It was the first time Emma held a fully grown mans 'thingy' in her hand. She tried to think of the polite names she heard it called, such as; a penis, an instrument, a baby maker, but her mind couldn't help wandering into the more lurid names. She thought how her older cousins Martha and Edith had much more exciting names for it like; a cock, dick, prick, tool, weapon, shaft, spike, or one of their favourite descriptions 'that he was hung like a horse'. That image she was familiar with, growing up on an estate she saw more than her fair share of horse cock, including bulls, dogs and a variety of other a****ls and the inevitable copulations that went on between them in their times of season.

Lately every time she set her eyes on a man she glanced casually at his crotch to see if she could discern the outline of his pole running down inside his pants leg. It was a new game for her and every time she saw one in that way she would feel a hot flush come to her cheeks
The proud owner of the one she was holding now was Jake's, one of the farmhands on the estate. Jake was a dark haired burly young man in his mid-30's. She stumbled across him while she was picking windfalls off the orchard floor and stacking them in her basket. As she moved between the apple trees suddenly there he was relieving himself of his water as he supported himself with one shoulder against a tree, while holding his semi flaccid pipe in his hand as he jet hosed a strong spray that arced away from him before it fell crackling on the fallen leaves a good three feet or so out from him. In spite of having no desire to be found watching, he must have heard her footsteps in the leaves as she sneaked closer moving from tree to tree to get a closer peek. Looking over in her direction he spotted her and ceasing his spraying as suddenly as shutting off a tap, he gestured to her to come forward calling her by name. Although shy, she was drawn towards his exposed 'prick'. After all this is the first manly one that she saw in the flesh so to speak. She often caught her younger brothers playing with their thin stemmed pink mushroom capped willies, but this was the real thing.
One morning recently cousin Edith had taken her to the milking parlour. She was fascinated how with a squeeze, a slight twist and a pull on the cow's teat, Edith expertly drew milk in strong squirts into the metal bucket in front of her. Unexpectedly Edith embarrassed her by saying men are milked of their cream in nearly the same way. What on earth did Edith mean she wondered? Surely men's things were just for relieving them of their water in the way that her hairy little slit did. Edith went on to explain that at the start men's cocks may be soft like the cow's teat - 'depending on their state of mind at the time of taking them in hand', she coyly added! However, there are distinct differences. Dependant on their age, or if they are caught by surprise, they need to be made stiff before you can draw cream from them. You will also notice as they get harder in your hand that the skin on their pricks gets thinner and more flexible and will slide ever more freely over the ripples of the muscle that grows ever harder underneath as you handle them. Disappointingly, Edith's fascinating lecture came to an abrupt halt when her father entered the milking parlour.
Shyly now, as she approached Jake she noticed he showed no embarrassment and continued to hold his cock in his hand as she nervously came forward. In fact, she couldn't believe her ears when he asked her if she would like to hold it for him, adding he wished to continue to finish releasing his water. Then taking his hand away he let his cock droop offering for her to grip it. Instead of it hanging down limply as she expected, it hung arc like as if it was beginning to grow and stiffen. Unexpectedly her desire to feel/touch it overcame her shyness to look away or to run from the scene. Instead she reached out and just tipped the pink end of it with the tips of her fingers. He then asked her to go behind him and invited her to hold it. Doing as he suggested she went up close behind him and wrapping her fingers lightly around his pole she felt it lift slightly as if to fit into her hand. Almost instantly his water jetted forth as before. Continuing to hold him lightly in her hand she could feel the water trickling through the soft hose on the underside of his tool. Fascinated she watched the water emit like a double edged blade from the slit at the end of his pink cone which she felt had now widened and was trying to shed the prepuce that was struggling to contain it. As he finished with a couple of brisk spurts, he asked her to shake the last few drops off for him. When she felt he was finished she let go of it and noticed that the arc in which it hung before she grasped it had now flattened considerably. Unless she was imagining it, it looked as if it was growing, rapidly extending outwards and widening. He must have noticed her staring wide eyed at it as he asked her, 'do you want to see more'? She asked him what he meant by more...what more was there?
'Why don't you put your pretty little hand inside my fly and see what you will find in there', he asked her in a quiet and even voice. At this stage his dick had lost its arc and was pointing out horizontally from his body leaving an open gap in his fly underneath big enough to comfortably put her hand in. Nervously she slipped her hand into the darkness of his fly. There was a warm 'earthy' air emitting from inside there which met her hand just at the point of entry. Almost immediately she encountered a brown thick mass of wiry curly hair which she could now see was extending outside his fly forming a hairy collar around the base of his every thickening stem. Her fingers initially got entangled in the hair mass and she twitched them too and fro in an effort to untangle them. As she did so, she encountered the pulsing rigid muscle at the very root of his virile manhood. Throwing his head back he muttered 'lower'. Dropping her fingers, she felt a portion of elongated sack like loose flesh until the backs of her fingers dropped low enough to brush two egg like shapes. Breathing heavily, he murmured 'lower, lower, cup them in your hand take them out'. Dropping her hand further and cupping underneath his 'eggs', she lifted them out clear of his fly as he had asked. As she lifted them, they separated rolling outwards either side of her hand. Not having seen the likes before, she nervously let them drop clear outside his pants in the open air, where they settled like two potatoes hanging loosely in a hessian bag. When she focused now on his prick it had grown enormous extending almost vertically forming an acute angle with his tummy. It had stretched in both length and width to the point she thought it must be on the verge of bursting! Its head had changed from pink to boarding on purple and it had dismissed any remaining foreskin to the underside of the distended ring of its mushroomed head. The soft under hose that only recently delivered his water had also thickened considerably, so much so that it looked as if was a separate and supporting conduit to the veiny thick rippling muscle of the prick that supported it.
He looked towards her with his eyes bulging his face red and sweating and in an almost pleading voice said to her, ‘move behind me again and pull it for me'. Mesmerised and robot like she moved behind him as he asked. Edith's demonstration in the milking parlour hit her like a wave. Her time had now come to ‘milk' her first man when she least expected it and with no proper instruction and much less preparation. As if he read her mind he asked her ‘do you know what I want you to do'? She answered surprising herself saying ‘she did' adding ‘but I haven't done it before'. He told her not to worry and to hold it in her hand like she did before, but this time squeeze it and pull the skin back and forth, adding not to worry it won't take long and it will ‘come' soon. This time however, it had grown so big that she struggled to clasp it so she could close her fingers comfortably around it. When she clasped it leaped in her hand as if it had taken on a life of its own. When she started to ‘pull' she was reminded instantly of Edith's words that the skin would slide effortlessly backwards and forwards over the rippling muscle in its state of hardness. Silky smooth the skin slid back and forth as Jake between gasps urged her ‘faster, faster, take your other hand, hold my balls and squeeze them gently when I tell you', At the tip of his mushroom she noticed how his pee slit was spread open and a clear drop started to form and swell there before it emitted itself in the form of a silky tread. When she saw it she asked him if he was going to pee again he gasped ‘No it is a sign my spurting is close now'. She was holding his balls lightly enough that she felt them lift slightly while at the same time she felt the hose resting in her palm beginning to pulse and swell. ‘NOW', he gasped ‘squeeze my balls firmly but not over hard. As she did so great gushes of white creamy milk shot forth from the eye of his knob in rope like spurts. She counted five spurts as she struggled to hold his leaping prick in her hand while relentlessly continuing to milk him until every drop of his seed was spent, the man cream that Edith spoke of. (To be contd....)