index


Message-ID: <56395asstr$1186528202@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Jim Dogget" <jim_dogget@hotmail.com>
Mime-Version: 1.0
Subject: {ASSM} Country Vet {Jim Dogget} MF, Cons
Lines: 670
Date: Tue, 07 Aug 2007 19:10:02 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

Country Vet {Jim Dogget} {MF, cons)

Disclaimer: This is a work which contains explicit sex.  If it is illegal
for you to be reading this, then don't read it.  It may be posted to any
free site, but an acknowledgment sent to the author by email is
appreciated. It may not be posted to any pay site.  This work is
copyrighted by jim_dogget@hotmail.com.  The story should never be separated 
from this message.


COUNTRY VET

My life was never the same after I met the Reid family.  Phil Reid was a 
dairy farmer and the largest farm client of the veterinary practice in which 
I worked.

When Joe Sanderson, the boss of the veterinary practice, died unexpectedly I 
worked for Joe's widow, struggling to keep the practice going.  It was a 
stressful time.  I had graduated from veterinary college only three years 
before and had not expected to be running a struggling business at this 
stage of my career. My future in the practice was still uncertain.  I would 
have liked to have bought it but I didn't have the money and I was afraid 
Mrs. Sanderson would sell it to someone else and I would be out of a job.

One day Phil came to me with a proposition

"If you stay here and work with us, I'll put up the money for you to buy the 
practice from old Sanderson's widow.  Joe was never much of a dairy vet 
really, but you've done a good job with our cows.  We'd like you to stay 
here in the valley and do our veterinary work."

That autumn I bought the practice from Mrs. Sanderson with the help of a 
loan from Phil.  Ten months later my wife Jean filed for divorce and took 
what little money I had left. When she divorced me she was already fucking a 
grain farmer called Tony Greeley, with whom she now lives, so I find it hard 
to understand how she ended up with most of my money.  But that's the way 
the world works, isn't it? I was in a financially vulnerable state, working 
too hard as a solo practitioner, always tired, and often lonely - a recipe 
for something more than just financial vulnerability.  My indebtedness to 
Phil over the purchase of the practice was just the first step down a path 
that drew me into a far deeper attachment to the Reid family than I could 
ever have imagined.

The Reids were good clients though. They managed the cows well and they paid 
their bills on time. They could handle many of the routine veterinary 
problems themselves: milk fevers, mastitis cases and most routine calving 
problems. They called for help before a sick cow was so ill that you 
couldn't help the poor animal you had been called to treat.

One November night I had a telephone call from Phil's wife. Irene was his 
second wife, a small, self-contained competent woman with dark hair and 
glasses.  Irene was quiet and reserved, a contrast to Phil who was an 
outgoing, rough and ready sort of a man.  I liked her.  She was kind to me 
when I visited the farm, and always had me up to the farmhouse for a cup of 
tea or a drink when the work was finished.  Some nights when I'd been there 
for an emergency, a caesarean section or something like that, she'd come 
downstairs in the middle of the night to make me a drink and a sandwich.

"Can you come and look at a cow.  She's been trying to give birth since 
tea-time.  There's one of the calf's feet showing and the cow's still 
pushing but she's not getting anywhere."

I didn't mind being called out at night, although night emergencies make 
life hard for a single handed vet.  It's one of the reasons large animal 
vets suffer burn-out early in their careers.  Irene wouldn't have called me 
unless there was a big problem with the cow.  She was level headed and she 
knew well enough when it was a crisis she couldn't deal with herself.   She 
and Phil were good like that. I had some clients that would try and pull a 
calf themselves, use too much force, ruin the cow and leave me to clear up 
the mess.  They weren't like that; these were good and caring stockmen who 
did right by their cows.  I work for some farms where I would hate to be a 
cow, but this wasn't one of them.

There was no traffic on the road at that time of night.  The valley's steep 
walls were lit by a full moon. I suppose it was pretty in a way, but I found 
the big shadows cast by the moon a bit spooky.  I was glad when the car 
headlights illuminated the dry stone walls that bordered the lane leading to 
the farm.  There were no lights on in the house but there was light shining 
from a door in the side of the old barn. I stopped outside, got my bucket 
and soap and a few pieces of equipment from the back of the car and stepped 
into the barn.  I always liked this barn; the thick stone walls gave a 
feeling of security and it was always warm and dry, whatever the weather.  
The old barn used to house the cows in the winter, tied with neck chains to 
the manger running down one side of it.  Now the cows lived in the new barn 
in comfortable sawdust bedded cubicles.  This old barn was mostly used for 
hay storage, but one end had been given over to two calving pens which were 
fitted snugly under the hay loft.

The hanging light down at the end of the barn cast a golden reflection on 
the straw bedding in the calving pen.  A black and white cow lay quietly in 
the pool of light, occasionally straining to push the calf out and making a 
low moaning sound in her throat. Irene was kneeling in the straw near the 
cow's tail, her hands on her knees, and her old jacket thrown over her 
shoulders, watching.

She stood up when I came in and wiped her hands on her denim skirt.  I put 
the bucket down.

"Thank you for coming.  I'll get you some hot water."

She took the bucket and went through to the milk house.

I took a look at the cow, checked its pupils with my penlight and felt its 
ears, which were nice and warm.  I checked its muzzle and sniffed its 
breath, the well practiced rituals of the country vet.  I was kneeling by 
the side of the cow listening with my stethoscope to her stomach gurgling 
away under her flank when Irene came back with the water.

Never trust a dairy farmer over the business of hot water.  They seem to 
spend most of their working lives with their hands in boiling water as they 
clean up around the dairy.  I've been scalded more than once by plunging my 
hand into the bucket of "warm" water I asked a farmer to bring me when I 
wanted to examine a cow.

I dipped my finger tentatively into the water.

Irene smiled. "Trust me."

I started washing around the cow's tail and vulva with soap and water.

"I felt inside," said Irene. "I could feel the nose and one front leg, but I 
couldn't feel the other leg.  I don't think my arms are long enough."

"Well, it's probably just got one leg tucked back into the womb. It's common 
enough.  The head was in the birth canal, though?"

"Oh, yeah.  He sucked on my fingers."

I laughed.  I'd suck on her fingers too, given half a chance.

I stripped to the waist and washed my arms.  There was some heat from the 
lamp, so I wasn't particularly cold and I knew that the exertion of 
delivering a calf would soon warm me up.

Irene was looking at me appraisingly.

"You know," she said. "You're the only vet I know that strips off to deliver 
a calf."

"Well, I'm not naked," I said.

She laughed. "Well, that would be something, wouldn't it?  I'd always be 
calling you out.  I'd never deliver another calf myself - I'd just ring you 
up and wait for the show."

It was my turn to laugh.

"All the other vets that have been here have worn some sort of gown over 
their clothes."

"Oh, yes - a calving gown.  I don't like it much.  It's plastic and it's 
cold and clammy and it gets in the way."

I finished washing the cow's rear end and poured some water over the vulva 
and the protruding foot to get rid of the soap.

"Well, I like it that you strip down.  It seems closer to nature somehow - 
more natural."

"I'd never have said it if you hadn't. Actually I like it too - I mean the 
being close to nature part."

"You mean skin to skin?" She said it quietly and  I hardly heard her.

"Skin to skin with a cow?"

"It's sensual, isn't it?"

"Yes." I said. "I like that about being around cows."

"It's not sexual, though, is it?"

I laughed ruefully. "No, although I've been with some real cows in my time; 
not this kind of cow though."

She blushed and touched my shoulder.

"I'm sorry.  I shouldn't have said that. You had a tough time"

I knew she was thinking about Jean. I changed the subject.

"Where's Phil?"

"He went up north to Tommy Bell's with Bunny.  He'll be back tomorrow."

Tommy Bell was a well known cattle dealer.   Bunny was Phil and Irene's 
daughter.

"I heard Bunny is buying a share in the farm.  Is that right?"

"Mmm - yes, she's got some cows in the herd already. Now she wants to buy 
some older heifers so she can put more cows in the herd.  That's why Phil 
took her."

Bunny was a big, unattractive girl with not many prospects of being taken 
off Phil and Irene's hands, so it probably wasn't a bad idea for her to be 
making some sort of future for herself on the farm.

"I wish she'd find a man, though.  I don't like the idea of her having to 
look after us in our old age, and farming on her own."

"No," I said.  "She needs a bloke.  Can you give me some lube?"

She squeezed out some obstetrical lubricant onto my arms. The veterinary 
stuff is basically K-Y jelly by the quart!

"I like this stuff," she said, rubbing it on my forearms and up past my 
elbows.

I laughed. "The slipperier the better."

I knelt behind the cow and slid my hand in, following the calf's leg.  I 
found its nose and made sure the leg was a front leg and belonged to the 
same calf as the head. I've been caught out like that before. I once 
attended a cow with twins inside her, and one front leg and one back leg 
belonging to two different calves were sticking out of her back end. When 
that happens it doesn't matter how hard you pull.  Nothing much happens 
except a lot of grunting and bellowing!

Although I could grasp the muzzle and one leg I couldn't reach the other leg 
because the head was too tight in the birth canal. The cow can't deliver the 
calf unless both front feet and the head are in the pelvic opening. The 
standard procedure is to push the calf far enough back into the womb until 
there is room to hook your fingers round the other leg and pull it up into 
the pelvis.  If she's straining to push the calf out you usually need to 
give her an epidural anesthetic, otherwise she shoves harder than you can 
and you can't push the calf back into the uterus.

"Irene, do you want to give me a hand? She's not pushing that hard.  You 
could help me push the calf back."

"Of course. Show me."

"We need to lube your arms, and then I want you to reach in."

She looked at me, but she didn't move.

"Irene?"

"Can I do it like you?" she asked in a whisper.

"Like me?"

She looked me in the eye. "Stripped down."

"Stripped down?"

Her eyes twinkled, and then she looked down.

"I'd like to try it," she murmured.  "What it feels like."

"Oh, my God,"  I laughed. "Sure let's try it if you want to."

"You don't mind?"

"Me? Mind? I'd be ... I'd love it! It's a fantasy of mine!"

"Oh, I didn't mean that.  I wasn't propositioning you. I just wanted to see 
what it would feel like."

"That's OK - let's do it.  It'll be nice."

She dropped her coat in the straw.  She was wearing a short sleeved blouse, 
and her arms were sticky from her previous attempts to pull the calf.

She unbuttoned her blouse, dropped it on the coat and turned away.

"Unhook me, please."

It took me a while because my hands were slippery.  She was shivering when I 
finished. She turned round, her arms crossed over her loosened bra.

"We need to wash your arms."

She dropped the bra and held her arms down to the bucket while I soaped 
them.  There were goose bumps on her arms, and the little circle of brown 
skin around her nipples was crinkled by the cold air in the barn.

"Jeez, it's cold.  Don't you get cold?"

"No, warmest place in the world is up a cow's bum, especially on a cold 
night."

That made her laugh.  I lubed her arms.

She complained. "You might have warmed the lube."

"It's not the first time I've heard that," I said.

"Oh, no! Oh, not really!"  Then she laughed.  "You're awful."

The cow was still lying on her side.  She'd stopped pushing for the time 
being and was resting and chewing her cud.

"Lie down and reach in and see if you can push the head back.  That'll give 
me some room to get the other leg."

Irene lay on her side in the straw in her skirt and gum boots, naked from 
the waist up.  She wriggled close to the cow and slid her arm in until she 
was up to her shoulder in the cow's vagina and her cheek-bone was resting on 
the top of its tail.

"Can you feel the head?"

"Yes, it's right there in the pelvis."

"See if you can get hold of its lower jaw or its muzzle and push its head 
back."

Irene's brow furrowed in concentration. She pushed harder into the cow, 
stretching to push the calf's muzzle back through the pelvis.

"It's moving," she said, "a little".

Her face was red and she was grimacing with effort.  Fluids from the cow's 
birth canal were squeezing around her shoulder and down onto her breast, but 
she was managing to move it, and the foot was being pulled back into the 
vulva.

"That's good, Irene, let me get in there."

I lay down beside her, my chest against her breasts and pushed my hand along 
the length of her arm until I reached her hand.  I could feel her fist 
grasping the calf's jaw.  I slid my hand past hers and into the hot depths 
of the uterus searching for the calf's other leg.  I could feel alongside 
the calf's head and reach its neck but I couldn't find the shoulder or upper 
arm.

The cow gave a bellow as she strained to expel both the calf and the 
invading humans. The uterus and birth canal constricted around our two arms 
with immense pressure.  The intense compression cut off the blood supply to 
my hand. My wrist felt as if it was swelling to twice its normal size and my 
hand ached.  Next to me I could feel Irene's arm being squeezed in the same 
vice.

"Ouch!" she said, her nose an inch from mine. "That's so powerful.  I can't 
move anything."

"Let's just wait it out.  It won't be a minute."

We were welded together by the power of the cow's contraction, our naked 
arms squeezed against each other's in the cow's warm womb.  Irene's breath 
was warm on my face, and the mix of lubricant and drying birth juices from 
the cow's vagina was sticking our bodies together.  Irene's breasts were 
glued to my chest as we rode out the contraction.  Finally the spasm eased 
and the cow relaxed.

"Let's get this calf moved before the next contraction," I said. "My arm's 
getting tired."

"Oh, mine too.  I can hardly feel it any more."

I reached behind my back and grabbed the lube, poured it liberally over our 
arms and shoulders, anointing us and the cow at the same time.

I reached in one last time, my chest sliding in the lube over Irene's breast 
as I reached as far as I could. The last contraction had just about brought 
the leg within reach. If I nestled my head into Irene's neck I could just 
reach the calf's elbow and I was able to hook it with my fingers and pull 
the leg.  With a grunt I managed to flick the leg forward. I cupped the 
little hoof in my hand to protect the fragile wall of the uterus and with a 
great effort I pulled the foot up to the brim of the pelvis.

"Nearly there," I gasped. "Keep pushing the head back."

"I can't do it for much longer."  Her whole body was shaking with the 
effort.

I pulled the foot out.

"Now pull the muzzle up.  Just hook your fingers in its jaw and pull."

Irene screeched with the effort, but she did it.  Now we had two front feet 
and the muzzle in the birth canal.  From now on, with a bit of help from the 
mother, it would be relatively easy.

But the effort of manipulating the calf in that confined space with the 
cow's powerful contractions squeezing our arms and hands had exhausted us.  
We lay there catching our breath, our arms still in the cow.  I put my free 
arm around Irene's warm body.  She pressed her face into mine and kissed me.

Her lips were soft and sticky and tasted of cow but they couldn't have been 
sweeter and more satisfying.

"Wow!  That was hard."

"You did well. I suppose we'd better get this calf out."

"Or I could just lie here.  I'm warm and sticky and tired." She started to 
giggle.

"Come on! Get moving or she's going to push the calf out on our heads." More 
giggles.

"Ouch!  We're stuck together.  That birth stuff is really sticky."

She unstuck her breasts from my chest, and took a few of my chest hairs with 
her when she did so.

"Get some more lube and ease the calf's head through the birth canal while I 
pull on the legs."

I dried my hands with some straw and grasped the fetlocks, braced my feet 
against the cow's backside, and began to pull gently.  Irene lubricated the 
passage, and the cow started to push while I pulled on the feet.  Slowly, 
over a matter of minutes with stops for the cow to rest, the nose emerged 
and most of the head.  Irene used her hands to ease the top of the calf's 
head through the outermost part of the vagina.  With one last bellow and 
push from the mother the top of the calf's head popped through the stretched 
lips of the vulva, the shoulders slipped through easily and the head and 
chest slid onto the straw.

Irene sat down in the straw and pulled the calf the rest of the way out and 
onto her lap, its head flopping across her thigh.  I pulled the birth sac 
off the calf's muzzle, cupped my hands round it's nose and blew into it.  
The calf shook its head and took a deep rattling breath.  Irene rubbed its 
chest and soon the calf was breathing vigorously and wriggling around.

"Oh, lovely - it's a heifer," she said

I knelt next to Irene and reached back into the womb to check for another 
calf.  There were no more feet inside and the placenta was beginning to 
separate nicely so I left it all alone and stood up, stretching my back.

I looked at Irene and laughed.

"You're a mess."

She had straw in her matted hair, straw stuck to her sides and bits of 
placenta and orange amniotic fluids all over her ribs and breasts where she 
was cuddling the calf.

"Oh, but it feels so good," she said and hugged the calf to her naked chest.

I got hold of the calf's front feet and started dragging it off her.

"Don't take it away.

"I've got to.  Got to take her round to momma so she can clean her off."

Irene felt her sticky breasts and made that giggle again. "And who's going 
to clean me off?"

The cow started licking her new baby's head as soon as I put it in front of 
her.

Irene got up and followed me to the front of the cow and put her arm over my 
shoulder as we watched the cow taking care of her calf.

We were quiet for a minute, until we started to feel the cold.

"Uhh! I'm soaked.  Look at me."

She felt her skirt.

"And I've been sitting in it too.  Feel that."

I put my arms round her and felt her bottom.  The denim was wet and cold.

"Oh, squeeze me. That's good," she said "Keep me warm."

I squeezed her against me and nuzzled her sticky neck.

"I've decided I do like the way you deliver calves.  And I do like the skin 
to skin bit of it."

She held my face.

"And it can be very sexual... if you let it."

I kissed her again.

"Undo my skirt."

I undid the side zipper with slippery fingers.

"Up or down?"

"Up."

I pulled the soggy denim over her head.  She was wearing red high cut 
panties under the skirt. I pulled them down, struggling to get them past her 
green rubber boots.

She pulled me down into the straw next to the mother and baby.  The cow was 
too busy licking her calf to give us more than a passing glance.

"Do you still have the lube?"

"The cow lube?"

"Why, what other one do you have on you?"

"Back pocket," I said.

She pulled it from my trouser pocket, took the cap off and poured a huge 
quantity onto her stomach and her wiry pubic hair. It glittered in a pool on 
her skin and silvery bubbles tangled in her untrimmed bush.

"Ohhh - it's so cold.  You still didn't warm it, did you?"

She smoothed it on her stomach and into the hair of her pussy and down into 
her slit.

"You used more than I used on the cow!" I said accusingly. "You're going to 
bankrupt my veterinary practice."

"Well," she said. "You said the slipperier the better."

I laughed and drew in the liquid on her belly with my finger, making her 
stomach muscles spasm.

"Hey, stop it!  Don't play with me.  I can't stand it. Give me your cock."

I crawled on my knees to her and she poured a liberal measure of lubricant 
onto my stiffening rod and balls as they lay cupped in her hand.  It ran 
everywhere, through her fingers, down my leg.  My balls were swimming in it, 
and she was right.  It was cold - really cold and it momentarily shrank my 
balls, but I was beginning to pump so much hot blood through my cock that I 
could soon have boiled water with it.

She slid her hand up and down my penis, squeezing off globs of lube into the 
straw.
In a moment I was fully erect, filling her small hand with a slick, swollen, 
pulsing piece of flesh.

I started to slide my fingers into the mess of slippery lube that coated her 
pussy.

"No, don't play with me! Put it in me now.  I just want you inside me."

I put my cock between her legs - the cold lube was a shock, but she opened 
her legs and pulled me into her.  The contrast between the cold, slippery 
wetness of the lips guarding her cunt and the intense heat of her inside 
passage was a shock.

I revised my opinion of the best place to be on a cold day.  A cow's bum is 
fine to warm your arms in, but having your prick in a hot pussy will heat 
you all the way through.

"Oh, Irene.  My God - you're hot inside."

She pulled me down so I lay on top of her, the cold wetness of our bellies 
suddenly becoming a focus of slippery heat.

"Then fuck me and keep the rest of me warm."

I started to move inside her.  After initial resistance from the clasping 
walls of her vagina I carried so much lube into her that I could slide in 
and out almost frictionless.  With no foreplay this was not a recipe for 
getting off quickly but I was quite happy to enjoy the sensations, and the 
sounds too.  Irene started to breathe heavily and make little squeaking 
noises in her throat, accompanied by the squelching sounds of my cock 
plunging into her pussy.

Irene lifted her green wellies up in the air, her red panties hanging from 
one foot and pulled me hard into her with her slippery hands. She ground her 
clitoris against the soggy root of my cock.  The slurping sounds grew louder 
as I pumped away.

I raised myself up above her and drove my cock down into her pussy towards 
her bottom, trying to generate more friction and at the same time buffeting 
her clitoris with the root of my penis. Judging by the noise she made - a 
rhythmic `Oooh, oooh,oooh' -  she really liked it.

Next to us the cow had cleaned the calf. Her tongue created spiky damp 
swirls in its black and white coat. The white hair was now very white and 
the black parts of the coat a deep vivid gloss in the light of the hanging 
lamp.  The calf wobbled onto her knees as her mother nudged and encouraged 
her.  The cow continued to lick briskly, making concerned lowing sounds in 
her throat, until the calf finally staggered to her feet.

I changed my position and knelt between Irene's soaking thighs. I hooked my 
arms behind her knees, hauled her buttocks off the straw and began to pound 
my prick into her pussy as hard as I could.

She cried out and threw her arms wide in the straw. The cow gave the calf an 
extra hard nudge and it fell over on Irene.  She wrapped her arm around the 
calf and pulled it to her.  The cow bent her head and continued to lick the 
calf which gave a happy little bleat, while Irene continued to moan.

"Oooh, Oooh, Oooh!"

The head of my cock barreled in and out of her sex, moving fast in the 
sloppy confines of her belly, until suddenly her walls began to contract 
around me.  Her cunt clutched my cock fiercely, making what had been a 
loose, wet alley into an exquisitely grasping tunnel.  The pleasure came to 
me quickly and forcefully.  I didn't want to hold back; no more could I.  
With a joyful groan I let loose a hot flume of cum deep into the crypt 
surrounding her cervix, the pulsing vessels of my cock bursting against her 
oh, so tight pussy.

Irene was shaking with pleasure, a red flush suffusing her from the tops of 
her breasts up to her cheeks.

"Oh, God, that was good."

She was smiling and hugging the calf, as the aftershocks sent little tremors 
through her.

After a few moments of basking in the warmth and pleasure of  my release I 
started to feel the cold winter air in the barn.  I pulled out of her even 
though I was still half erect, only to have my detumescence completed in an 
instant by the evaporation of my wetness into the frigid night.  I shivered 
and looked for my clothes.

Irene lay dreamily where she was.  Her legs were still spread apart and the 
inside of her thighs were red and wet from the clash of our bodies. The 
trickle of sperm that leaked out of her was just a creamy streak in the pool 
of lubricant that puddled in the crack between her buttocks and leaked down 
towards her ass.

The cow rasped its tongue across the calf's flank as it lay in Irene's arms, 
and then explored the woman's nakedness with its wet muzzle.  It sniffed her 
stomach, smelling the mixed odors of calf, afterbirth and human sex. It 
reached out its tongue and dragged it through the mess of fluids smeared 
over her belly and the matt of hair at the junction of her thighs.

Irene gasped and flinched, but she didn't move.

"Aaargh - it's so rough."

The cow vigorously licked her belly, cleaning and stimulating her just like 
she had done to her calf.  Irene laughed and squirmed and once or twice put 
her hands in the way when the sensation of the rasping tongue became too 
much for her.  I stood and watched with my trousers and shirt in my hand.  I 
had never seen anything like it before.

The cow did a good job of removing all the gunk from her lower abdomen. 
After stopping to take a swipe with her tongue at the calf, which was still 
lying cradled in Irene's arm the cow licked its way to her midriff.  The 
tongue scouring across her navel made Irene yelp and sit up, pushing the 
calf away.  The beast's tongue caught her breast, dragging it's rough 
surface across the nipple and pulling at the tender white flesh.

That was too much for Irene.

"Ouch!  Fuck it!"

She clasped one hand over her molested tit, swatted the cow's nose with her 
other hand and got up on all fours in the straw.  The cow half-heartedly 
butted her and flicked at her with its tongue before turning its attention 
back to its baby.

Irene picked up her skirt and the coat.

"Come on up to the house and get in the shower with me.  We'll get cleaned 
up and I'll make you a nice drink."

"That's why I come here.  You always make me a nice drink."

"Well, maybe now you'll have another reason to come."

"Yeah, but I'll still need the drink," I said.

She put her sticky hand on my cheek. "And I'll always make sure you earn 
it."

I collected my bucket and instruments and the rest of the clothes and 
followed her to the door of the barn.  As I left the building the calf was 
on its feet butting at its mother's udder and starting to suckle.  Judging 
by the frisky way it wiggled its tail it was happy.

I was, too, but my life had just become a lot more complicated.


(C) Jim Dogget February 2007 http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/jim_dogget

Thanks for reading.  Do let me know what you thought of it.
jim_dogget@hotmail.com

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com>|
| FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderators: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|ASSM Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org>   Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org> |
|Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}|
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+


  index