Perhaps an automatic milker for when I am atwork. I have been able to make it home for her lunch milking but adding anothermilking could be a problem.... That is a problem to be considered. Owning a milkcow is a responsibility. One that I enjoy. All this goes through my mind asI am milking her. I finish milking her and put her milk into the refrigerator. Then go and getdressed for our outing. After I am dressed, I put together a light picnic lunchfor myself with something extra for each of my. I’m no anthropologist, but I kind of thought she was Chinese or something – but not quite. “Hi!” I said. “Hi,” said Gemma. She smiled and then dropped her folder of work clumsily. “Oh let me help you,” I said, stooping to help her pick the sheaf up, which had scattered about the corridor. “Ah thank you!” She said. I looked down as I shuffled a few pages together and saw quite a way up her navy hockey skirt, since the two halves had flapped open. Her legs were smooth and slim and right at the. We seemed to have things under control. A little late, but better late than never. We were congratulating ourselves on our success when the phone rang.Jessica looked at me. "It's for you," she said, tossing me the receiver. I caught it deftly. "It's a Mrs Sargent," she said, and my heart fell through the floorboards, followed closely by my entrails.Mrs Sargent had hidden the coffee, but the girls had gone out and bought another jar, which they had concealed somewhere outside. They had also. We became close friends then. We used to share non-veg massages in night time on whatsapp.She was a lot happier than earlier as she has started new professional life. We used to go out on weekends for shopping in nearby areas as well for movies. There was difficult time watching Action Jackson with her so in meanwhile she was getting hornier. I could see hunger in her eyes and she got a lot hornier that time. It was 7.30pm show. I said we will go for dinner out and then have drinks as it was.