Evelyn Street: Behind the barn

"All right, Eve," Mike laughed. "We don't stand on formality here, so you might as well call me Mike."

Mike felt more at ease when Sam had ambled off to attend to the animals already milked. He felt a warm friendliness exuding silently from Eve, and it comforted him somehow, as he was still stinging from Sandra's verbal blows. He felt that her accusations had been unjust; he had bent over backwards over the past year to make up for the affair she had found out about, and yet nothing seemed to please her. She had changed so much over the past few years, he mused sadly to himself; she wasn't the same woman he'd married, laughing, full of fun, ready for anything. She had turned into a nagging, whining shrew and didn't seem to care whether he was there or not. It was that feeling of not being wanted that had made him seek refuge in other women. Of course, he felt guilty about it, feeling like a rat as he slunk off to his clandestine meetings, but he had to do something, or he'd go mad. Still, it was unfair of her to accuse him of being interested that way in Eve. He'd be mad to try anything with her, right under Sandra's nose. Not that he'd mind…

"A penny for them!" Eve's light-hearted voice chimed in on his rambling thoughts, and her interruption caused him to blush to the roots of his hair.

"I'm sorry, Miss… Eve, I mean… I've been so rude; I was completely carried away…" he stammered, conscious of her twinkling gray eyes fixed on him. He felt awkward, like a schoolboy. Her searching graze was so intent, he felt sure for a brief instant that she must have read his thoughts, but knew that was ridiculous.

"Well," he began lamely, "do you think you'll enjoy working here?"

"Oh yes," she exclaimed, smiling widely. "Everything's so up-to-date, and you've got a fine herd. Sam showed me around everywhere, and I even saw your donkey herd. That broken-colored stallion is magnificent!"

"Yes, he's a fine fellow, isn't he? Imported from England from one of the champions over there. I hope to have some good progeny from him next year."

"How is he working out as a sire?" Eve asked interestedly. Mike started, her question disturbing him. What did she mean? She knew he had only just got the stallion, that there wouldn't be any foals till next year.

"Eh, what do you mean?" he asked guardedly.

"I mean, does he do the job properly? He looked pretty young to me!"

Mike found himself coloring again. What was the matter with the girl, asking questions like that?

"He's able to manage," Mike faltered, and immediately turned his attention to placing the clusters on the first cow's teats. Normally, the dairy girl and Sam did the actual milking, but as Eve was new, and the machine might be unfamiliar to her, Mike had decided to help her, in case she needed any instructions or had any problems.

"I love the feel of a cow's teat in my hand," Eve mused to him, moving on to the next animal. "It feels so soft, so sensuous," she went on dreamily, "and it almost comes to life as the milk flows through it, and the thick frothy cream spurts out of it…" Mike was glad he was hidden from her sight, and that she couldn't see the flushed look of astonishment on his face. Her voice was so hazy, her tone so sultry, and Mike could see out of the corner of his eye that she was caressing one of the pink-tinged teats as tenderly and lovingly as if… He felt stunned by the impact of his own lewd thought. As if it were a man's cock! That was the thought that leaped into his head and drummed persistently at his consciousness.

"Mike, could you help me please!" she called out suddenly, and he found himself rushing over to her, glad of the chance to be near her again. She was hunched over one of the milk tube clusters which was lying on the ground, and Mike's eyes were drawn, as if by a magnet, to the exciting split between the tops of her creamy white breasts. He was mesmerized by the enticing glimpse of her deep cleft and had to drag his eyes away when she looked anxiously up at him.

"I seem to have lost one of the tops," she said worriedly, and Mike got down on his knees beside her, and scanned the straw for the dark-rimmed cap.

"Here it is!" he said suddenly, picking it out of a golden sheaf, and he began to screw it back into the tube.

"Oh thank goodness you found it," Eve breathed, laying one of her small white hands on his thigh, "I was so worried." Her touch was like a firebrand on his flesh and when he looked at her, she was smiling at him.

"Well, we'd better get on with the milking," he said weakly, and reluctantly, it seemed to him, she removed her hand from his thigh. He suddenly felt bereft, as if a part of him was missing. Pull yourself together, he chided himself, you're acting like a teenager, imagining all sort of ridiculous things.

They worked silently, preparing all the cows for milking, and Mike's thoughts were swirling around in his head. He couldn't shake loose the memory of her touch on his thigh. Did she mean to do that, or was it just an accident? And what did she mean by all that stuff about the teat?

Finally, Mike switched on the milking machine, and the barn was filled with the vibratory sounds of the pulsator.

"Mmm, it's hot in here!" Eve said suddenly, and began to unbutton her dairy coat.

"D'you mind if I take this off?" she queried Mike, and when he replied, "of course not," she removed it, and Mike saw that she was wearing a red see-through blouse and a tight black mini-skirt. He could see that she was wearing a matching red bra, really only a strip of lace, and his eyes were riveted on the generous mounds of her ivory breasts which were visible through the red nylon.

"Do you like them?" Eve's voice broke in on his distraction, and he could only stare open-mouthed at her. Had he heard her right? His heart began to thud uncomfortably in his chest and he was at a loss as to what to do.

"Would you like to see them?" Again her gay, mocking voice startled him.

"Wha…" he could only stammer.

"Would you like to see my breasts, Mike?" she asked again with exaggerated slowness, walking a step closer to him.

"Are you out of your mind?" Mike snapped, afraid that his mind was playing tricks on him. "This is no time for games!"

"I'm not playing any games!" Eve said silkily, and Mike watched in boggling disbelief as her fingers fumbled with the buttons on her sheer blouse. Gaping, he saw the edges fall away and reveal the exquisite form of her perfectly molded breasts, made all the more provocative by the dainty confines of her lacy bra. He could see the alabaster flesh heaving slightly and was hypnotized by the rhythmic rise and fall of the luscious orbs.

Incredibly, he saw Eve's hand slip around to the back, and in a moment, she was shrugging the thin satin straps from her smooth, pearly shoulders.

"Christ, they're beautiful!" He couldn't resist gasping as the full glory of her exquisitely sculpted breasts came into his astonished view. Craning his neck, his eyes bulged as he stared at the creamy expanse of the silky mounds, surmounted by delicate pink nipples, semi-erect from the rustling of her bra. Her hands crept up and cupped the full rounded young spheres, thrusting them out, pointing the hardening little buds at her disbelieving employer.

"God, Eve, I…" he murmured, unable to tear his eyes away from the half-naked girl. His head was swirling – things were happening too fast for him. He could feel the protuberance of his cock growing, and it was beginning to swell against the confines of his pants. His hands fidgeted by his sides – they itched to reach out and clasp those glorious globes of young college-girl tit flesh, to knead and pummel them. His mouth longed to take the tiny budding nipples between his lips, coax them into turgidity with his tongue, nip on their sweetness with his teeth. God, she was driving him mad, standing there half-dressed, like some youthfully naked Venus. She moved closer to him, so close that her naked breasts brushed against the blue denim of his workshirt, and the delicious contact sent eddies of almost intolerable pleasure soaring through him. Sinuously, she rubbed the hardened tips against his chest, purring like a cat, her arm resting casually on his thigh again. He wanted to pull away, order his errant young employee to get dressed, get on with the milking, but he couldn't. What he really wanted to do was take her in his arms, crush his mouth down on hers, knock the breath out of her with his kiss, caress those ripe boobies of hers, and then fuck her, yes, fuck her to within an inch of her life. Instead, he managed to inch backward a little.