I Am A Cow

I had always prided myself on staying fit and keeping lean throughout my primary and secondary education. In High School, I was on the track team, played soccer and was often referred to as a tomboy who didn't mind getting dirty. I also was told I was very cute back then and would get more than a little attention from the boys. 5'4", 115 pounds and enough lean muscle that you could see some slight abdominal muscles. I had shorter sandy brown hair and would get compliments on my dark almond shaped eyes and dimples that appeared when I smiled.

Looking back now, it feels like I have the memories of a completely different person. I can remember standing in front of the mirror and smiling to make my dimples appear. I used to pull my shirt off and admire my thin frame even if it was a bit boyish. I preferred my small breasts because large breasts would be a hindrance in sports and I was pretty enough that boys didn't care if I was somewhat flat chested.

After college, I married a handsome, smart investment broker and pretty much lost any interest in using my college degree to gain employment. Rick made more than enough money to support us both so I focused on shopping, practicing my backhand and meeting my girlfriends for lunch. A couple years into our marriage we decided it was time to start a family but I was adamant that, no matter what, I was going to get back to my pre-birth weight after that child was born and continue to stay physically active.

Promises are made but more often than not life happens in unexpected ways. When I got pregnant, my estrogen levels shot up and I had a very difficult time with morning sickness and spent a lot of time in bed. My weight ballooned and I felt extremely fat and tired. Much of the weight went to my breasts and part of that seemed to be a result of my high estrogen production. When I looked in the mirror my body was completely transformed. My belly was obviously swollen but there were some other unexpected and more subtle changes. My pubic hairs became darker and thicker and I had a discoloration from my crotch up to my belly button. The weirdest thing was I started developing large brown spots on my side, back, arms and thighs. The spots ranged from 3 inches to around 8 inches and were apparently another hormonal side effect. I also had a lot of swelling in my hands, feet and knees.

The other big change was in my breasts which went from nearly flat to full and firm to heavy and pendulous. I would place one hand on my belly and the other cradling my breasts feeling a sense of womanliness that I had never felt before. At first my breasts were simply growing outwards but as they became larger and heavier they began to lay atop and along my belly. I was continually buying new bra sizes and began to worry that there was no possible way my body could snap back. I had put on so much weight that it seemed hard to believe that losing the weight wouldn't cause loose skin but the hormones may have been helping me to not care.

Along with the breast growth, I also experienced significant growth in my nipples and areolas as well as darkening of both. My relatively small areolas went from a diameter of around an inch or so to something closer to the size of a saucer and my nipples grew to over an inch in length and around an inch diameter. Their thickness was what freaked me out the most and I started to worry that they were too large to latch on to. Once my son was born my milk production exploded and my breasts reached their peak size. In 9 months I had gone from a modest B cup to a beefy J cup and my breasts felt heavy as hell with super sensitive nipples. For the first time I was able to orgasm simply from nipple play.

At this point, I started eating wheatgrass at a suggestion from a friend. My husband even planted a patch of wheatgrass in the yard so I could get it as fresh as possible with no pesticides. My son was getting all his sustenance from my breasts and I still had enough to fill more than a bottle a day AND occasionally feed my husband. Maybe it was the hormones directing me but I became obsessed with everything being natural including consuming raw wheatgrass and being milked rather than pump. The easiest way was to strip down naked, get down on all fours and have my husband pull on my teats with the weight of my breasts being enough to cause the milk to start flowing out.

One day, I was sitting on our deck and my breasts and nipples were absolutely aching. I called Rick outside and suggested he milk me right there on the lawn to avoid the chance for a mess. We have a privacy fence and a bit of distance from our neighbors so there's no chance for spying. I removed my dress, bra and panties and noticed that the brown blotches on my body were darker and more pronounced than ever but I would deal with the problem in time. Rick laid out a pan and I got down on all fours with my swollen hands and knees. Rick grabbed my nipples and after a few tugs the milk began squirting out. One then the other and back again the milk sprayed into the pan. Over and over again.

Feeling the milk pour from my body was one of the most organic, womanly feelings I have ever experienced and it made it all the more better than I was being milked naked on the soft grass. There was a cool breeze that cut the heat of the afternoon sun and I noticed that I was right above the patch of wheatgrass. On a whim I bent my head down and chewed off a bit. I chewed the tough grass with big masticating bites and leaned my head back enjoying the feeling of release as Rick relieved the pressure in my breasts and the sensation of my now huge nipples being tugged on. I let out a low mmmmmmmm as Rick pulled on my teat and I could hear the milk hitting the pan. As he released the pull on my nipple I let out an ooooooohhh. My head was lolling around as I let out an mmmmmmmm followed by an ooooooohhh.

My voice seemed to get lower and lower as I reached a state of female euphoria. Mmmmmmm... ooooooohh. Mmmmmoooooooh. Suddenly, I froze and stopped chewing my grass. What had I become? It hit my all at once that I had become a cow. My life, as it was, was over and now I had become nothing but a dairy cow producing milk. It took awhile for me to accept my new place in life and even longer for Rick. In fact, I'm not sure he has ever accepted who I am. I like to spend a few hours a day grazing about naked in the backyard as my breasts and nipples hang down nearly brushing against my delicious, green afternoon meal. The brown spots on my body are large and beautiful and when the sun shines down on my flesh I lean my head back and emit a satisfied moooo.

If my friends and family don't understand, that's fine. I know who I am and my one great contribution to the world is the delicious, life sustaining liquid that I produce through my engorged breasts. Practicing a backhand or trying to run a marathon is just a wasteful distraction. I am a cow, I give milk, I don't need to apologize to anyone.