Pig Tit
Pig Tit stories
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Autoplay OFF  •  a year ago
“Have you ever seen a pig's tit before?” The farmer whispered in my ear. His hot breath filling my canal as his coarse mustache tickled my cartilage. I leaned away from him, unsure of how to respond. I had not seen a pig's tit before and if it was anything like a woman's, I'm sure it would be a treat. But I had just met this man and his question unsettled me.
By greatballsofwonder https://www.reddit.com/r/...

Pig Tit

by greatballsofwonder

“Have you ever seen a pig's tit before?” The farmer whispered in my ear. His hot breath filling my canal as his coarse mustache tickled my cartilage. I leaned away from him, unsure of how to respond.

I had not seen a pig's tit before and if it was anything like a woman's, I'm sure it would be a treat. But I had just met this man and his question unsettled me.

I wasn't sure I wanted to look at any kind of tit with him, let alone a pig's. I proceeded cautiously.

“Are they big?” I asked him.

“The biggest.” he responded.

“And the nipples?”

“Exquisite.”

This was not going to be easy. We were locked in a mental chess match and it was clear the man was practiced.

He was proud of his pig's tits and if they were anything like how he described, it would be hard to blame him. Even so, it was getting late. I simply didn't have time for this.

“Listen Mister, I'm sure your pig's tits are great, and I'd really like to look at them sometime, but I should be going.”

He looked at me with vacant eyes, his mouth slightly ajar. I was beginning to think I had deeply offended him when suddenly, he leaned close, and unleashed his secret weapon.

“I'll. let. you. milk. them.” He said slowly, making sure I drank in every word.

He can't be serious, I thought. No self-respecting farmer would let a perfect stranger touch his animals' tits, not to mention a pig's.

Yet there he was, staring at me in anticipation, panting silently, eyes wet with excitement. And I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little excited too.

These weren't just any ordinary tits, they were milkin' tits. The kind of tits you only hear about in stories.

As I wondered if he'd let me taste the milk, I felt a hand grip me firmly by the arm and yank me backwards.

“It's time to go Billy, didn't you hear me calling you?” Ms. Palanski began pulling me towards the school bus.

“But Ms. Palanski, the farmer said-”

“What farmer?”

I turned back only to see an empty field. The farmer had vanished.

I stayed silent while she escorted me onto the bus, my fellow classmates staring as I searched for an open seat. They have no idea, I thought. No idea how close I came to milking some tits.

The bus roared to life and slowly started down the farm's dirt driveway. I watched the barn get smaller and smaller through a cloud of dust, wondering if I'd ever come back.

Wondering if the tits would still be there when I did.

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