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. My mouth watered as I imagined my tongue delving between Amber’s pussy lips, probing down, sampling the sweet juices leaking from her vagina. I imagined seeing Amber’s eyes widen as I sucked and swallowed. I’d moan to let her know how much I was enjoying what I was doing to her. The shocked response to every sensation would let me know she’d never been licked like that before. Amber’s lips would curl into a smile of anticipation as she felt my tongue sliding upwards, until the soft tip caressed. More

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