Fields of Daisies and Clover – A Hucow Story, Parts I - VI - Sex Stories

Fields of Daisies and Clover – A Hucow Story, Parts I - VI

... udders jutted out far in front of her and hung down almost to her waist. They were barely contained within the milk-soaked sheer cow-patterned bikini top she wore. Her mammaries sloshed when she moved, and her wide brown aureoles were visible under the translucent bikini. Her waist was narrow and her ass and hips looked sculpted. The thong bottom she wore disappeared between her perfect ass cheeks while a narrow strip of short mottled cow fur ran up from above her thong to just below her navel. She was a model of a perfect woman, if a perfect woman had immense, milk-filled glands and six inch horns coming out of the sides of her head.

“Oh, look at her,” my wife said. “Look at those big brown eyes and those long lashes. Oh, she’s so adorable.”

I have to admit, I was a little surprised at my wife’s reaction.

“I always wanted a cow when I was a little girl,” she continued. “But my parents never would get me one. They got me a pony instead. I always kind of resented that.”

“I don’t ever recall you mentioning that,” I said to her as we climbed out of the car. “In fact, I never even knew that cow girls were a real thing.”

“Yeah, I kind of blocked it out of my mind, no use crying over spilled cow milk. And yeah, they’re very real. I’ve always fantasized about having one of my own.”

I was still processing this information as Alina approached the cow. The cow was standing in our yard, bending down and pulling up tufts of grass that she would slowly munch on. When she ...

... bent over, the thong pressed against her thick, meaty labia, and the narrow cord failed to cover her crinkled, puckered, fuckable asshole.

“What’s your name, sweetie?” Alina asked, petting the cow on the head, running her hand down the cow’s back, then – to my continued surprise – running her fingers softly across the cow’s overwhelming chest.

“Helga,” said the cow, softly, chewing on the grass. She had a sweet, sexy, sultry voice.

“Hi Helga,” said Alina. “Did you get separated from your herd?”

“I don’t have a herd,” Helga said, a tear slipping down her cheek. “My parents didn’t approve of me becoming a cow so I got kicked out of the house. I have no place to go.”

“How old are you, sweetheart?”

“Nineteen,” said Helga. “My dad was real strict about things. He said if I ever became a cow he would disown me. I...I...I really didn’t think I would actually turn into a cow. I know what they say, but I thought it was just an urban legend…”

“Just an urban legend?” I asked my wife. “What’s she talking about?”

“The tales about how a girl becomes a cow.”

“How is that?”

“A girl becomes a cow by eating out another cow girl. The tales are true.”

“What?” I said. “Like lesbians? I never heard anything like that.”

“Not surprising,” Alina replied. “A few minutes ago you didn’t even think cows were real.”

I acceded her point. “True. It’s been an educational three minutes.”

My wife softly ran her fingers across the cow’s tits, circling the thick nipples ...