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The summer after graduating from college, I spent traveling around the country, and I stopped for a week to visit one of my friends who was then living on a farm in northern California. The farm was run as a commune by several young, hippie-type men and women who had moved there to escape modern city life. They were all very friendly, and I liked them right away, but one in particular caught my attention, a girl named Molly. She was a redhead with a farm-girl plumpness, and a large, heavy bosom which gave her an earth-mother quality. At first sight I was seized with a desire to suckle at those huge, nourishing breasts, but I was far too shy to make any approach. Finally I did manage to talk to her, and her easy, free-spirited manner made me feel so comfortable, that I arranged to help her with her chores the next day.

I didn't know just how free-spirited she was until the next day when I went to the barn to meet her. I heard some footsteps, and out of the door came Molly, carrying a full bucket of milk in each hand and-- incredibly-- nude from the waist up! I stared open mouthed at her two massive breasts hanging bare before me, and she was the first to speak.

"Oh, hi! I already started with the milking." I was still staring dumbly at her bosom, unable to pull my eyes away. "I guess you're surprised to see me like this. I usually don't wear much when I'm doing the milking, it gets pretty warm in the barn. You don't mind if I keep my top off, do you?"

I managed to stammer, "N...No, not at all..."

"Good. The guys here on the farm are used to it, we all go around half naked, but it does bother some guys, I know. I don't want you to think I'm making a comeon by showing you my tits. It's just a lot more comfortable without my top. Sure you don't mind?"

I assured her I had no objections, trying to sound perfectly casual. I could feel my member starting to throb painfully inside my pants, but this was a small price to pay for such a vision.

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We got down to work, spending much of the afternoon milking the cows and performing other routine chores in the barn. I must have seemed pretty dumb to her, because I could hardly work or converse with my attention so attracted by the magnets of her breasts. Whenever she walked, the heavy pendants swayed hypnotically. Each time she leaned forward to milk a cow's udder, her own teat swung down beneath her, and I longed to seize it and mimic her rhythmic squeezing with my own hands. I tried not to be obvious in my voyeurism, but often she caught my eyes rivited on her endowments and seemed to smile slightly.

Although I wanted to prolong the heavenly feast for my eyes, the chores and milking were done at last. I expected Molly to replace her top and head for the house. Instead, she stood in front of me, her hands squarely on her hips, her breasts proudly bare. She looked down at my crotch and at the stiff erection plainly visible through my jeans and frowned,

"Now what's that all about?"

I stammered, "I... I'm sorry Molly... I can't help getting like this... when I look at you..."

She laughed. "No, I guess not. You're not used to the way country girls dress, are you? Actually, I thought you might give me some hassle, but you've been a good boy all afternoon, and I think that deserves a reward. How'd you like to try your hand at milking?"

She placed her palms beneath her heavy breasts and hefted them slightly toward me. I fell to my knees at her feet, and grasped her treasures. She gently pressed my head to her bosom and let me suckle to my hearts delight on each rosy nipple.

Finally, she said, "Now I think there's just one more little cow that needs milking." She unsnapped the front of my jeans and had me get down on my hands and knees. Reaching underneath, she grasped my penis in her hands and began squeezing it with practiced movements, milking me exactly as she had the cows. She pulled slowly at my teat, teasing me towards release, until finally I let down my milk in gushing spurts between her fingers.

I helped Molly every day that remained in my visit, and she repeated her service each time. She never showed interest in anything further sexually, and I don't think she really considered what she was doing for me to be a sexual act. To her it was just a friendly favor to releive the tension that I built up while helping her. And being then (and still!) a compulsive masturbator, I wasn't wanting for anything more.