He loved us but we were not Mom.We had a milk cow and from age six I milked. The milk probably saved our lives. When Bessie died we were thirteen. I w...lked ten miles to the Aaronson farm and in the dark of the night stole one of their hundreds of milk cows. We named her Bessie — we thought all milk cows were named Bessie."Cindy! Don't ever; don't ever let Bessie out in the daytime." I thought all cows looked the same but I didn't know. Cindy didn't either.We were clean. Some memory when we were. But when I stepped up behind her and put my hands on her hips and had to stand back an extra inch to avoid poking my erection into her bottom, I knew I was lying! Taking the hem of her shirt, I slowly began to raise it, exposing her flat firm abs and the pierced belly button. “Watch me in the mirror.” She said. She had a dreamy wicked smile on her lips and she licked them when she saw I was staring at her. “Put your hands on my stomach. Pull me back against you. I want to feel your hard. More

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