Taylor leaned on the wooden fence, looking out over the family herd, a piece of wheatgrass between his teeth. He didn't care much that he looked like a country bumpkin. This field would be his one day soon.
No one was quite sure what happened to cause the change, but some years back, some female humans - and the occasional bovine - were born as a cross species, and they kept breeding true. The bulls didn't, unfortunately, and the hucows couldn't take a full-grown bull, so there had to be... arrangements made. Obviously, the rancher had first crack, but guys paying to come spend some time with the heifers was both good for the genetic strains and business.
In fact, two of the hands, Jesse and Andrew, were using the faces of two of the cows. "HEY, YOU TWO! If you're gonna spread your oats like that, at least use the other end! Might get some new stock out of 'em that way."
The younger men waved back at Taylor and pulled their cocks out of the mouths of the confused cattle. The pair moved behind their chosen heifers and began to plow them proper. The well-endowed hucows mooed appreciatively as they were filled proper. Taylor took a moment to appreciate the dangling breasts of the cattle before he made a mental note to set those two aside against the possibility the hands had knocked them up.
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