The moment was so surreal and exciting that the intense cramp deep in his groin that signaled an approaching orgasm was building fast.Davey couldn’t...hear his mom’s side of the conversation, but he could tell she had asked what they were doing when Abby said, “Oh, we’re just having breakfast.”His mom must have asked what they were having, because as Abby continued to stroke him, she nonchalantly said, “Well I made Davey his chocolate pancakes, and I’m having this new breakfast sausage I found…. Milk-cows spend their milk-producing years in a barn, being milked by young teen milk-maids. They don’t mind, however. By this point in their lives, they’ve usually had a full-on lobotomy and their brain has been totally turned to mush. They typically sit in their pen on all fours, smiling dumbly, drool running off their chins, udders hanging down being pinched and squeezed, as the milk-maids fill the milk buckets. They often know only one word by then, a word that all milk-cows in all. “If they start toward you, get out of there fast!” I told him.“Can do, Bill!” he returned.I had been using a parabolic mike also, but so far I had only picked up the conversations of the women and a couple of the guys bullshitting. The younger men had all gotten beers and then moved off in a group by themselves on the far side of the yard. All that I picked up from them now were some lewd remarks about the other men’s wives and some of their older daughters, none of whom appeared to be over ten. “Now in addition to your name, first name only please, we’d like you to also put down the three digit number that you were given in your confirmation email,” Madeline instructed. “As you each meet someone new, we’d like you to record that number on your pad. It might sound a bit impersonal at first, but we’ve found that it actually saves a lot of time and confusion in the long run.”Thinking about it, Laurel found herself agreeing. Poor handwriting, hard to spell names, or simply a commonly.