One Last Summer
Two friends, soon to leave for college, become cow girls and grow closer to one another. Explicit.
I learned I was gay the same day I turned into a cow girl.
Sam and I both wanted to go to the mall, so she drove us there in the used Subaru her parents got her for graduation. We were both restless. It was our last summer: stuck between the end of high school and the start of college, trying not to count the days and months until we'd both be moving into our dorms.
Even the mall felt ready to change. They still hadn't fixed the floor tile that clinks when you step on it, or the one duct-taped on the corner because it'd broken off, but it was already drifting away from the place we knew. A cheaper clothes store had moved into where the Old Navy had been. The bookstore where we'd spent days and days working our way through the manga shelf had been replaced by a branch of the local library.
"That's probably why they went out of business. If we'd actually bought books..." Sam said.
I said, "No one bought books. And then they were like, 'we're basically a library, let's make it official'."
We wandered up the first floor and down the second. Eventually, we started doing the thing where we'd point at ads as we passed and try to imitate whatever goofy grin the person had. It felt normal enough, but in the back of my head, Sam was playing soccer in her new school colors and hanging up posters she'd bought with me in her dorm room and laughing with new friends whose faces I'd pulled from TV shows. Would we even want to hang out when we came home for break? I knew we would change as people, but I didn't know how.
And I definitely wasn't expecting to get changed into a cow.
The food court pulled us in, gravitationally. It was only two-thirty, but it had the best chairs in the mall, and obviously, if we were sitting there, we had to get something to eat. The restaurants had shuffled around too--there was a taco place now, and a new ice cream place had replaced the Haagen-Dazs. We wound up grabbing a couple scoops of ice cream before we sat down.
"What'd you get?" Sam asked with her mouth full.
"Udderly Chocolate," I told her, carving off a scoop with my spoon. "How about you?"
She finished off her mouthful and stabbed her spoon into her bowl again. "Malted Moo Shake."
While we ate, we talked about whatever. I'd listened to a new album I figured she'd like, she wanted to tell me about a new anime she'd found online. None of her other friends were into nerd stuff as much as I was. Sometimes I felt like her Nerd Friend, but that was probably why we were so close. No one knew her taste in anime guys the way I did.
Sam finished her ice cream first and got up to toss the bowl in the trash. My eyes tagged along, watching her walk away. At the time, I thought it might just be me, but she seemed a bit thicker than usual, especially around the hips. I tried not to notice too much, since I didn't want to be rude, but it looked good on her, especially squeezed into her old track shorts.
"So, how's yours?" Sam asked. I blinked. She'd walked back and sat down again while I was staring off into the space her ass had occupied.
"Oh, it's good," I said quickly, and stuffed my mouth with another spoonful so I wouldn't have to say anything more. Feeling guilty but not sure why, I stared down at my ice cream and tried to finish it as quick as possible.
Sam let out an amused snort and said, "Moo."
I wiped my lips with a napkin and said, "Very funny." But as I got up from my seat, I didn't see Sam's usual teasing grin. Instead she was rubbing her throat, looking a bit surprised and confused. I didn't think much of it at the moment, and went to go pitch my bowl too.
As I walked back, though, I couldn't help staring at Sam's shorts again. They looked tight, especially with the little curve of her tummy hanging over the waistband. I wasn't trying to be judgey; she was still way more fit than I was. But I could swear she hadn't looked like that when we'd come in.
"Hey, are you feeling all right?" I asked as I came back to the table.
A look of concern wrinkled Sam's face. She looked up at me and said, "Moo."
"Yeah, I heard you the first time," I said. I sounded annoyed but I was starting to get worried.
Sam's eyes widened. She leaned forward and mooed emphatically. As she did, a set of short horns popped up from beneath her hair, and a pair of long ears coated in white fur flopped out from either side of her face.
"Um," I said. I stared at Sam's face, where her nose was stretching out broader and pinker. Or, at least, I tried to stare at it. It was hard, because her chest was swelling outward, and my eyes kept drifting down to her tightening tank top. I could even make out the fingertip-sized dents in the fabric that had to be her nipples.
"Moo!" Sam gasped.
Taking her by the arm, I started to pull her from the seat. "Shit. Come on, there's the bathroom—" I began to say.
Sam pointed at me and mooed insistently. I followed her finger, all the way down to the curve of pink that was pressing against the waistband of my sweatpants. We both just sort of stood there, watching wide-eyed. My new udder bulged outward from my belly, leaning over my waistband until it grew too big and slipped free. With a heavy, jiggling flop, it rolled forward, bounced against my legs, and came to rest there. Its warm weight pressed against my thighs and its teats wobbled as I staggered back a step.
"Oh shit," I said.
Suddenly, Sam was the one pulling me by the arm. I stumbled and sloshed behind her, dragging my pants up with my free hand. With every step the weight of my udder got heavier and tighter and more tender. I thought my legs were going to give out, but Sam kept dragging me behind her. A tail with a tassel unrolled from the base of her spine and swung back and forth in front of me. Her tank top rode up high enough that I could follow the trail of fuzzy white fur along her spine.
The two of us burst into the bathroom. I wobbled up to the counter and clutched at the edge to keep myself steady. My udder swung beneath me. It dragged my pants down as it inched fatter and rounder down my thighs. My legs squeezed together and my knees bent. I was starting to feel hot and fuzzy and pent-up.
Sam stood next to me, leaning toward the mirror with her jaw slack and her eyes open. She had her hands on her short cow snout, squeezing it like she was trying to shove it back into her face. I looked at my own reflection. My nose was spreading big and broad and bovine, and I'd sprouted a matching pair of horns and long ears, too.
Now that we were in private, Sam tugged her tank top off over her head to let her breasts hang free. Pink, swollen nipples protruded from their tips, thick and squeezable. She let out a deep sigh of relief and supported her chest with one arm.
As for me, I was struggling a little more with each breath. My breasts were filling up with a tight, warm weight and pulling my bra tight. I leaned over and pawed at my back, trying to reach for the strap. Sam put a hand on my shoulder to steady me, then reached under my shirt, snapped open my bra, and helped me pull it off.
Fat nipples dragging against rough cotton was too much for me, so I had to drag my shirt up until my breasts spilled free. Liberated, I took a few deep breaths, then said, "Oh god, we're cows."
Sam shuddered and winced. She leaned over the sink and groaned, "M-moo..." She squeezed a hand against her breast. A few tight drops of milk rolled from the tip of her nipple and fell into the sink. Her fur was still light and fuzzy, but I could already see the splotchy pattern emerging across her skin.
"Yeah...dairy cows," I said. I thought I'd gotten off lucky. Sure, I had an udder, but I wasn't having trouble speaking. That's when my milk kicked in. It felt like a hot, wet wave crashing across me, like stepping out into the muggiest summer day imaginable. I melted under the sudden weight and heat. Sam caught me before I fell and hoisted me up onto the counter. I sat there with my legs spread open, udder hanging full and aching between my thighs. My tail batted against the countertop as it flicked back and forth.
My whole body was filling up with milk. My nipples and teats throbbed along to my pounding heartbeat. I gripped my udder, trying to hold it back, but I only succeeded in making my head loll and my eyes flutter.
Sam stood in front of me, taking deep, shaky breaths. An occasional drop of milk leaked from her chest and fell to the floor. Her black-and-white fur had grown in fully, accentuating her frame. Becoming a cow had softened her around the hips and belly and chest, but if anything, it had bulked her up, too. The way her muscles rolled taut from shoulder to bicep gave me that warm, guilty feeling I hadn't figured out yet.
I was so warm and weighty and stiff. The sheer pressure of my thighs against the sides of my udder squeezed little spurts of milk from my tight teats. I squirmed. My sweatpants clung to my thighs like leggings, stretched between my legs with my big fat udder sitting on top.
Chocolate fur spread along my arms and across my chest, only a few shades darker than my own skin. It only made me warmer, like I was being wrapped up in a furry blanket.
Sam's eyes went down to my udder, then back up to my face. I was so swollen I could have traced each bulging lobe of my udder with my fingers. Her look of concern was clear. She saw how full I was getting. Putting her hands on my shoulders, she looked into my eyes, and gave me a reassuring moo.
She got down on her knees in front of me. I began to say, "Sam, what are you—" Her hands, sporting a pair of thick, hoof-like fingers each, cupped my udder. A little whine sneaked out of my snout. Her lips parted, then wrapped carefully around one of my teats.
I reached down and tried to grab Sam's head, to push her away, but her horns were too small and her hair too short to get a grip on. "W-wait. Fuck," I gasped. I squirmed. I was so tight it felt like my udder was squeezing against my brain, squishing everything under its aching hot milky mass. I was horny in a way I'd never imagined before. My thighs tightened and the thick lobes of my udder bulged outward. "Fuck," I repeated, eyes rolling back in my head. "Sammm."
Sam's eyes slid shut and she began to suck. It was amazing. I was so tight that the milk ached as it slid down my teat, but that was washed away by a feeling of release so deep and so strong that it pulled me under. I rocked gently against Sam's lips. I felt the brush of her tongue on the underside of my teat, and the pull as she drew a mouthful of milk from me, and the squeeze as she swallowed. Over and over. I was getting milked by my best friend, and I loved it.
I hardly had control of myself any more. I needed to be milked, and that was the only thing I could think of, not the looming end of summer, not the fact that it was Sam between my legs, drinking from my udder, and not even that we were in a bathroom in the middle of the mall. There was just the milk and me, and I needed to let the milk out.
My hands had grown into hooves like Sam's. They found their way to my chest, fumbling with my swollen nipples. They weren't as easy to handle as teats, and definitely not with hooves, but after some frantic, aching groping, I figured out the right way to cup and to squeeze them. Rivulets of hot milk ran down my fingers, rolling across my fur, pooling on the counter around me.
Sleek brown fur swallowed me up and hid the blush on my cheeks. I loved every moment of getting milked. I could hardly think, everything was milk and soft warm hot wet oh my god.
I told myself I shouldn't enjoy this, but no matter how guilty I tried to feel, all I could feel was Sam's lips and tongue and mouth drawing each heavy gulp from me. Over and over. I had so much milk in me. A feeling of bovine pride glowed deep in my belly. What a good cow.
I had no idea how long we'd been going at it before the bathroom door squealed open. My head bobbed up sleepily and my ears perked up. Sam's lips slipped from my teat, sending a small spray of milk splashing to the floor. An older woman stood in the doorway, staring at us—a pair of cow girls, milking themselves right in public.
Sam sat up, hands on my knees, and glared at the woman. "Moo!" she snapped.
I found my voice long enough to say, "Sorry, occupied."
The woman took a stumbling step back, bumped her shoulder against the side of the door frame, then swung the door shut as quickly as she could.
I looked down at Sam, she looked up at me, and we both laughed. My heart was still pounding, my head still spun, and I still felt heavy and full of milk, but my all-consuming need to be milked had softened into a gentle, constant urge.
On the other hand, as Sam pushed herself up onto her hooves, I could see the wince that flickered across her snout. Beads of milk rolled from her swollen nipples and dripped onto the floor. It had taken longer for her body to build up the milk, but now she was just as tight and tender as I had been.
"Your turn," I told her. Sam mooed sheepishly and tried to turn her shoulders, but I caught her by the elbow and pulled her close. Our short snouts nearly touched, and we were looking into each other's eyes. I'd never seen Sam look so shy before. I guessed she wasn't used to needing help.
She glanced away and mumbled, "M-moo."
"Come on," I told her. "You need milking too."
I slipped my hoof-tipped fingers up around Sam's chest. They were heavy and hot, and bigger than my own. Slowly, I began to milk her the way I'd milked myself: cradling her swollen nipples in my hands, stroking along the top with the flat of my thumb. Two spurts of milk squirted onto the counter. Sam shuddered and moaned deep in her throat. Her tail lashed against the backs of her thighs. I kept going.
Sam leaned into my hands. As she did, our snouts bumped together. Embarrassed, I jerked my head back, but she closed the distance again. Her hands found my hips, then slid down to hold my udder again. I stiffened and gasped. She gently grasped two of my teats and began to tug her fingers along them, copying my motions. My back curled and my eyes rolled back. I squeezed her breasts tighter. Her lips pressed against mine.
She kissed me.
I didn't know how to react. I felt guilty and stupid and giddy and flushed. I couldn't think clear enough to figure out what was happening. I just leaned against her and let my eyes roll shut and kept milking. My thighs squeezed tighter against my udder, giving me enough space to hook my hooves around her waist and draw her closer to me.
Getting milked drew out the cow in both of us. Sometimes Sam would break away, lean back, and let out a deep, luxurious moo that made me respond in kind. The counter and floor were soaked with our milk. Our bodies rocked together. I imagined the two of us in a field, and then that field became our farm, and we had run away together to wake up with the sun every morning and milk each other, though I'd need milking more often, at least twice a day, and there was nothing to do but eat sweet grass and clovers and let the sun warm our fur. No classes, no college, nothing to pull us apart.
Sam shifted her shoulders and slid one of her hands along the underside of my udder, up to the edge of my panties. I didn't even think about what she was doing until I felt her thick finger slip between my folds. I gasped and flinched. Drops of milk squeezed from my teats. The gentle brush of her hoof against my clit was enough to leave me gasping for breath and clinging on with my legs. Milking alone had gotten me so excited there wasn't much further to go.
My head sunk down against Sam's shoulder. I buried myself in her fur and tried to muffle the heavy moo that rose from my chest. Waves of heat washed over me. Spurts of milk trickled down my chest and rolled off the tips of my teats. My cheeks burned and I couldn't breathe and I felt better than I'd ever felt before.
I was numb and glowing, but I managed to move my head down to Sam's chest, and swap my mouth with one of my hands. Her thick nipple slipped between my lips. I started sucking. Her milk was creamier and sweeter than I'd imagined, and I found myself nuzzling against her, drinking hungrily. My free hand slipped lower, over her soft belly and down to the hem of her shorts. I didn't know what I was doing as well as she had, but I listened to her soft sighs and groans and let her body lead me.
Just as I was wondering if I was doing it right, Sam clutched my back, squeezed herself against me, and let out a long moo. I felt the sound against my lips and snout, pressed against her chest, and swallowed down the sudden gush of milk from her nipple.
I lifted my head up. Sam pushed her cheek against mine and held me tight while I wrapped my arms around her. I'm not sure how long we spent like that, but we were so warm together, and satisfied, and completely happy. It might have lasted forever. I'm not convinced it didn't.
The same day that I turned into a cow girl and learned I was gay, Sam drove the two of us out to the lake just outside of town. We spent the rest of the afternoon in a meadow of clover and tall grass that tickled our legs and noses and made us snicker.
By the time the sun came in sideways and golden through the trees, we were back by the shore, flicking rocks into the lake, and we'd put on clothes again. Before we'd left the mall, Sam had picked up a new tank top with a cow's skull across the front, and a pair of denim cutoffs that fit her new hips better. I'd found a pair of sweatpants that laced up across the front and taken out the laces to make room for my udder. With a new bra, my tee shirt still fit fine.
We had our phones in our laps. Sam's speech was getting better, but it was still easier for her to just text me than trying to string together a sentence without slipping into moos. She milled over a message for a minute or so before she finally sent it.
so....this is just for the summer right?
It was the conversation I'd been wanting to ignore. There was, what, two months left? A month and a half? Then everything would be completely different. Even more completely different than becoming cows. I wanted to pretend we could make the summer last forever, but Sam was too honest for that.
"I mean...I couldn't ask you to leave school." I flung a rock into the water. "...run away with me, start a farm..."
haha yeah...you were thinking about that too huh
I blushed. I was glad it was hard to see under the fur. "Dumb cow instincts," I said.
hey its not dumb
if this is gonna be short we should make it good right?
bet we could rent a farmhouse for a weekend
Sam was smiling up at me. Even with the lump in my throat, I found myself smiling back, and putting my hand on top of hers, and leaning against her shoulder to watch the sun set behind the trees on the other side of the lake.