Sex is the best way to learn about other cultures. - Chapter 4

“On summer vacation.”

Carol answered while lifting hay for the cows with a big fork-like farm tool. This was in response to my question about school, even though it was a weekday afternoon.

In America, the new school term starts in September, not April, and now it seems they are on a long summer vacation.

I didn’t know how old Carol was, but I figured it was unlikely for a normal high school student to be feeding hay to cows in a barn. So I understand that she is in a slightly special environment living on Stanley Farm.

I guessed that most American girls her age would probably be working part-time at a fast-food restaurant or something like that, like Liz. And frankly, I doubted they’d ever end up covered in mud and dry grass in a room smelling of livestock.

“It’s time to eat.”

But Carol herself was smiling like a sunflower. She didn’t look like she was reluctantly working on the farm as a household helper. On the contrary, I could tell that they treated each cow with love and care as if they were family.

The livestock at Stanley Farm are beef and dairy cows. I don’t know the specific types, but I guess they make a living by selling the beef cows for meat and the milk from the dairy cows for beverages and processed materials to a factory or somewhere.

There were also a few horses.

Like the horses I rode with Alicia this morning, they are probably kept more as a means of transportation than as livestock.

Or maybe they are kept as racehorses, but I don’t know about that because I’m a farm novice.

“Eat it up.”

Carol spoke to each cow gently, just like a mother to her cows. We were in the dairy cow shed. It’s not a large, mechanized farm, so there aren’t that many, but that probably makes them more attached to the cows.

These are dairy cows, but I wonder if she treats the beef cows that are shipped off for meat in the same way.

I bet the answer is yes.

Her love and kindness didn’t change, no matter who or what she was with.

In this country, where many people discriminate against Asians, this mother and daughter didn’t seem to have any prejudices.

Of course, not everyone was prejudiced, but Alicia and Carol seemed especially open-minded compared to others here.

She doesn’t care at all if her beautiful blonde ponytail gets covered in dust, if the smell of feces permeates her overalls and sleeveless top, or if her boots get covered in mud.

I didn’t think of myself as livestock, but even if I were, she would probably still treat me kindly.

“Come on, eat up!”

As a thank you for hiring me, a stranger, I gave the cows a huge pile of dry hay.

It looked easy, but it took some strength. I couldn’t let a teenage girl beat me at this.

“Wow, powerful!”

Carol let out a cry of joy as she saw the hay flying high into the air. At first, I was resistant to working in the cowshed but watching her, I didn’t care about the smell or dirt.

“Do you want to try milking?”

Carol approached me with a radiant smile. I didn’t know what “milking” meant, but I guessed it was about milking cows. Probably the actual milking was done in the morning, but Carol was suggesting I give it a try for the experience.

“OK?”

“Sure.”

When I asked her if it was okay, Carol readily agreed. I’d come to America to work part-time on a farm. I wanted to try anything unusual.

“Watch, I’m going to start now.”

Carol brought over a silver bucket and put it under a cow that had finished eating hay. Of course, it was a female cow.

On a farm, milking usually means using a milking machine, but Carol grabbed the cow’s full udder with her bare hands and began to skillfully milk the cow.

Pure white liquid spurted out like a water pistol.

Carol made it look very easy, but I wondered if a novice like me could do it so well.

“Uh… what?”

As expected, when I tried squeezing the n1pple, not a drop of milk came out. Even if it did, it would only be a tiny leak from the tip, nothing like proper milking.

“More gently. Take it easy.”

Carol moved right next to me, patiently showing me how to do it.

She wrapped her hand around mine, giving me step-by-step instructions.

Carol’s hands were very smooth. Not used to being touched by a beautiful girl, I felt awkward and clumsy. Maybe that affected my milking too, because still no milk was coming out.

“That’s odd…”

Carol also seemed to be getting a little worked up, leaning forward to milk the cow. Perhaps she was so engrossed that she forgot her position, or perhaps she just didn’t care about the man’s gaze, but as she leaned forward, Carol’s full br3asts were in full view.

To be honest, she was even more impressive than Liz’s.

Liz’s br3asts were a little on the larger side for an American student, but Carol’s were impressive enough to make you think she was Alicia’s daughter.

How could she look so slim in this skimpy sleeveless top? Her pure white bra looked so innocent, it only emphasized her ladylike figure. But the way her br3asts bounced around inside the cups was just… amazing.

Carol was almost on all fours, exposing her bra and cleavage, milking a cow.

The image that healthy men would imagine from this situation would be the extremely blasphemous sight of her voluptuous br3asts being milked.

“At last!!”

Maybe because I was so distracted by the sight, but the milk suddenly started pouring out of the cow. Carol was jumping up and down with excitement, but honestly, I had more pressing concerns.

My crotch was completely tenting.

I’d like to meet any man who wouldn’t get an erection when his hand was held by such a beautiful white girl with big br3asts and her chest exposed.

But this situation indeed looks incredibly perverted. If Carol saw my bulging crotch, I might get fired on my first day of work.

I should probably bend over right now to hide it.

That’s what most guys would do. Even if it seems weird, they’d squat down, put their p3nis back where it belongs, and try to calm it by thinking about something unappealing—like old men naked or whatever.

But strangely, I didn’t do that.

With Liz, we eventually ended up having s3x.

It was the same with the beautiful woman I met in Los Angeles and Tracker Amanda—we all ended up getting intimate.

If this country is more sexually open than I thought,

If even someone like Carol, pure as an angel, could be accepting of s3x—

This ridiculous idea took hold of me, making me forget the basic courtesy of covering my erect p3nis.

What would happen if Carol saw it in this state?

This absurd theory wouldn’t leave my mind.

As a result, Carol turned towards me.

She stood up, brushed the straw off her knees, picked up the bucket of milk with a satisfied look, and glanced at me as if to say, “Good job.”

At first, she seemed genuinely unaware of anything unusual.

As proof, she’s paying no attention to my crotch as she tries to pour fresh milk from a bucket into my mouth.

However, at one point, I realized that Carol had noticed my crotch.

She’s pretending to be calm, but her cheeks are flushed, and her movements have become awkward. It’s obvious she’s trying not to look below my waist, so she’s aware of my crotch.

Carol was probably trying to get through the situation as it was.

She was pretending not to notice my crotch and was trying to move on to the next task.

But it wasn’t going to be that easy. In an attempt to force Carol to notice my erection, I gently guide her hand to my tent.

Instantly, I feel her delicate shoulders shudder.

I guess it’s only natural for her to react that way when a big, burly man suddenly guides her hand there.

But now I can’t back down either. With my p3nis this erect, it won’t go down without a woman’s help.

“Can you calm it down?”

Surprisingly, Carol didn’t resist when I said that.

Her face was bright red, and she seemed embarrassed, but she didn’t remove her hand from my crotch. She also didn’t scream for her mother’s help.

She probably didn’t understand a single word of Japanese. But in this situation, what a man asks a woman to do is universal, and even innocent Carol seemed to understand that much.

“Yes, I get it…”

Though she hesitated quite a bit, Carol started stroking my crotch with awkward movements.

You might think it wouldn’t feel good to just be touched through my pants, but when you’re rock-hard, even that can be more pleasurable than a handjob or blowjob. Unlike those, which use long strokes, the stimulation is more efficiently transmitted to your c0ck.

“Is… is this right now?”

Carol asked, confused. It seemed like she was checking if this was the right way to stimulate the p3nis. The girls here seem to be more free s3x than in Japan, so perhaps Carol has little experience.

“Show me how you’d handle it with your hands, Carol.”

As if teaching a younger girl, I slowly unzipped my pants. My p3nis, which hadn’t fit in my underwear, immediately sprang out. Now, even with pants on, only the base and tip were covered. More than half of it was sticking out completely.

“Wow…” 

Seeing my p3nis popping out, Carol let out a cry of surprise. She stared at it with bashful interest, as if it were the first time she had ever seen a male organ.

“…So big, and so strong.”

As I pulled down my pants and exposed the base and balls, I could see Carol swallowing her saliva. She seemed mesmerized by the erection she had never seen before. I wonder if Carol was a virgin.

“Please, blow job.”

“B, blow job?”

I asked her for a blow job in English, but Carol didn’t seem to know what it meant. Living in this small town with her mother, she might not have much sexual knowledge.

I wondered how turned on I’d be if this innocent-looking blonde girl started sucking on my c0ck.

But I didn’t know any other way to ask for a blowjob besides “blow job.”

She didn’t understand “suck” or “lick” either.

Just as I considered switching to asking for a hand job, I realized I didn’t know the word for that either.

I could have taken Carol’s hand and guided it to my p3nis, just like before. But that would be too simple. Showing a sexually innocent girl step by step how to do it wouldn’t count as a real sexual act.

“Please milk this.”

At that moment, I could see that Carol was greatly shaken. Milking means milking. Carol herself had used it earlier.

However, milking is a term used for cows and other animals, not for an erect male p3nis. Moreover, I wasn’t sure if she would understand the comparison between semen and milk. Or perhaps she didn’t even know that a man’s organ can shoot out a white liquid.

“I…I got it.”

Gulping deeply, Carol accepted my words. It seemed that she roughly understood what I meant by milking.

Soon, Carol timidly reached out with her smooth, cool white hands and grasped my erect p3nis. With incredible skill, she began to stroke me.

“Ca… Carol…”

Carol’s handjob, a technique she had mastered through daily milking, brought me incredible pleasure.

Most women simply moved their hands up and down on a p3nis. Even with slight variations in pressure or added oral work, there wasn’t much difference in basic technique.

But Carol’s hand job as a farm girl was different. It felt like she was squeezing every drop of semen from me.

Instead of just moving up and down, she worked from the base to the tip, using perfect pressure and rhythm to milk my balls.

“That’s… That’s incredible… I’ve never felt this before…”

I couldn’t help but let out a pathetic voice.

That’s how amazing Carol’s milking was.

When a white woman gives a handjob, her hand starts from the erect p3nis and moves in a rubbing motion. In other words, the p3nis doesn’t move, and the woman’s hand moves in a rubbing motion. But Carol’s handjob is different.

Her smooth hands grip my base firmly. She keeps the ring made by her thumb and index finger fixed at the base of my p3nis, and squeezes my whole p3nis with the remaining four fingers, squeezing it.

Instead of stimulating me through friction, she used a rhythm of squeezing and releasing. It was more like kneading than rubbing. Since I’d never experienced this kind of stimulation before, I was instantly hooked on Carol’s milking handjob.

If she kept going like this, I’d run out of semen in no time.

“Feel good?”

I could only reply with a nod to the question. If I made a sound, I would ejaculate in an instant.

“Ahh! I’m cumming, Carol!”

Unable to bear the pleasure any longer, I shot a huge load of semen straight onto Carol’s beautiful face.

“What!?”

After the electric shock, a huge amount of milky white liquid was released onto the girl’s blonde hair, her pure white skin, and her chest, which was bulging out of her tank top. The sensation of semen rushing through my urethra was addictive, no matter how many times I experienced it.

In no time, Carol was covered in milky white liquid, and she didn’t seem to understand what had happened to her.

She sat there in a daze, receiving the semen that had spurted out from the tip of my p3nis.

“What’s this white stuff…?”

Carol was completely in a daze.

Her trademark ponytail was sticky and dirty with semen, and to make matters worse, my semen was on the corner of her cute mouth.

As soon as I had finished ejaculating and calmed down a little, the thought “What have I done?” flashed through my mind.

I had just covered a pure young girl, who might still be a virgin, with my dirty semen.

“I’m sorry! Very very sorry!”

I found myself kneeling on the spot. It didn’t matter that the ground was covered in straw or that it smelled like cow dung. I had done something terrible to Carol.

“Okay… If you think about how it started, it’s my fault.”

She tried to pretend everything was fine, but it was clear Carol was shaken. She stood up unsteadily, and she didn’t even try to wipe off the semen covering her body.

In the end, I used a towel to clean her up, and we decided to pretend this never happened.

It might have been fine if Carol herself had forgiven me, but I still had to reflect deeply on what I had done. Even in a country where s3x is free, some things are okay and things that are not.

Carol let it slide because she’s a kind girl, but normally, someone would call the cops. If Mrs. Alicia found out her precious daughter had been turned into a sticky mess by some random Asian guy, she’d be furious.

So I swore to myself I’d never do anything weird again and threw myself into my work that day.

Carol, who worked with me in the same shed, kept glancing at my crotch. I figured she was just being cautious. Her face was red—maybe she was trying to hold back her anger—and she wasn’t talking as much as usual.

In the end, we hardly said anything to each other until Mrs. Alicia came to tell us dinner was ready.