I'm Sarah. Standing 5' 7" and weighing 130 pounds, I'm your average size female college sophomore. I have an OK social life, but nothing serious. My breasts are average for my weight and height and a size 34B bra is my usual size, but that depends on brand. During high school I dated a little and after my senior prom my date popped my cherry. I have a decent academic record, but I know that my mom and dad struggle a little financially to send me to college.
It was during the first semester of my sophomore year when I decided that I was doing really well enough and it would be a good idea to get a part-time job. Some of my friends worked in the dining hall or library, but these did not pay particularly well. Instead I spent a couple of weeks scouring the web to see if I could find something better. Then one day the following appeared:
Part-time technician assistant needed. Hours flexible but must have a driver's license and bring their own rubber boots. $15/hr, but must be open to training. Contact Acme Bovine Services.
I knew that bovine had to do with cattle, but otherwise the ad told me very little. I googled Acme, but didn't learn much other than they provided breeding services to farms. "Sure, why not?" I asked myself and replied to the ad. Within hours I got back a reply and I arranged to visit them for an interview.
When I showed up at their small office I was greeted by Doug, the owner, who was a fairly young well-built guy with a friendly demeanor. He explained that his company did artificial insemination for dairy farms. I was pretty naïve about the process, but the money was good so I signed on. Doug and I worked out a schedule and I was told that I would begin the following Thursday afternoon. So far, so good.
Thursday morning I attended my classes as always, went to lunch, and then back to the dorm where I collected my pink Hunter wellies and headed over to Acme. Curiosity was now getting the best of me and had some butterflies in my stomach. When I got there Doug greeted me again, had me sign a couple of forms and took me to the supply room where he found brown Carhartt coveralls for me to wear but also handed me a long rubber apron that I was to take along with me. Since it was a warm autumn day, Doug suggested that I wear just wear the coveralls over my underwear. For my first shift I was to work with Doug himself and we went outside and got into one of the trucks and headed off. While my pink wellies didn't really coordinate well with the coveralls, they would be sufficiently functional and I was not that concerned.
About a half hour later we got to the first farm. The two of us got out of the truck and Doug retrieved a stainless steel vessel and the two of us headed toward the barn. The farm was neat, but still mudpuddles were everywhere and I thought that I now understood the rubber boot requirement, but was not 100% correct because there was also cow poop all around as well.
At the first cow, Doug had me use a pair of forceps to remove a plastic straw from the stainless container and carefully place it into the end of a long plastic tube. In the meantime Doug donned a shoulder length plastic glove and applied some surgical lubricant. This was fascinating because the next thing was he inserted his arm into the cow's anus, poop oozing out around it as he did so. Then with his other hand he inserted the plastic tube into the cow's vagina and with the hand in her rectum guided its end into her cervix. A quick motion on the plunger and the frozen slug of semen was deposited.
When he withdrew his arm from her anus, it was my job to strip the plastic glove off his arm and then hand him a clean one so that he could inseminate the next cow. This was where wearing that apron came in. I'm not sure if it was the fact that Doug had had his arm inside that first cow, but I had no sooner taken off Doug's glove when that cow had a huge bowel movement. It splattered my coveralls and completely buried my left foot. Now I was glad to be wearing my wellies.
As Doug was doing his thing I could not help but think how little enjoyment that these poor cows were getting from their experience. Certainly when I have sex I have a much better time of it. Still the idea was making me more than a little horny.
This was how the afternoon went at two different dairy farms. Doug and I must have inseminated two dozen cows. When we were ready to head back to the office, Doug suggested that we rinse our boots off. Good thing, too, because that first cow was not the only one to take a dump on my feet.
During the drive the smell of cow manure filled the air of the truck and I thought it might be days or even weeks before I would get the smell out of my nose. When we got back to the office, Doug showed me the shower area at the end of the storeroom and told me to put my coveralls in the bin so that they could be washed before I wore them again.
The shower was a welcome idea and after I got cleaned up and changed, I headed home. Thinking back about the afternoon, it was an acceptable job, it paid well, but above all I got to work with Doug, who I was increasingly thinking of as a true hunk. As I drove home the thought of his hard six pack abs would not leave my mind and by the time I got home I had my hand down my panties rubbing my pussy.
The following Tuesday was my next day of work and I arrived at the Acme offices a bit early. Doug looked up from his desk, greeted me, and told me to go ahead and change. When I saw him sitting there in his muscle shirt I thought I'd cum on the spot. I went into the supply room, found my coveralls, and stripped down to my underwear. Minutes later I returned to the office dressed in my rubber boots and coveralls ready to go to work.
