Monica big tits a gwan!


There she stood in all her glory. The scorching afternoon heat had brought out the lazy in her. We had fed her though she never did seem to have enough, and she had cultivated a habit of chewing stuff after every meal. Nasty habit this one! Her big tits looked lovely and i couldn’t wait to touch them later before the sun went down; they were her money makers! She was brown, that was Monica. Jane, the yellow yellow chic was inside, she no longer needed a sun tan.

“Monica!” granny called from the kitchen. Monica mooed in response. My granny had a way with these cows.

It was almost milking time and Monica had programmed herself to the timing. Her udder would be sagging, pregnant with milk.

She was a funny cow, this Monica; she would literally run into the milking shed when time came coz i think it felt kind of itchy having all that milk in the udder. There was a standard, agreed upon protocol handed down to every milking member of the Ndegwa family. Let cow in shed. Put generous amounts of Dairy meal on the feeding trunk. Hang licking salt within tongue distance. Throw in potato peels if available. Tie cow’s legs with rope. Wash and apply milking jelly to tits. Squeeze to let milk out.

this was the professionally accepted, KEBS approved, ISO-Certified way of milking a cow.

The tits would be washed with lukewarm water prior to applying the jelly. At times we would have fun washing them with hot water just so we could see the cow jump in surprise and pain. The legs were always tied coz most of our cows had a terrible habit of kicking the milking pail just when you are about to complete milking.

It was my turn to milk Monica. It was nice and easy with her coz she had very huge tits, easier to squeeze. If you want you can call her Monica big tits a gwan! She however died later of Ebola. Jane and her black predecessor Nyameni had slim tits which made it very difficult to squeeze out the milk.

Normally after milking we would sieve the milk into a churn and take it to the dairy which was like 2km away. On a rainy season we had to circumvent the kawaida route which made it 4km, one way. It was a routine that bored the hell out of me and my bro.

On this particular day i had hatched a plan not to go to the dairy. It was a weekend and i wanted to hang out with Mbatia at the soccer pitch. Going to the dairy meant i had to go back home early to wash the milk equipments; i sooo hated this job. This was the unfortunate part of not having a sister.

So i do the usual thing and take my stool (stool of seat not shit!Get the difference?) ready to start milking. If you have ever seen a milk shed, the village type, there is usually a set of stoppers which kind of sandwich a cow’s hind legs. One is to maintain maximum control and second to ensure it does not kick the milk pail. The stoppers are easy to remove and a mad heifer can even break them.

I squeeze the tits, the milk streams into the pail. To milk effectively you gotta use both hands. I am an expert milkman!

The moment to put my plan into action came. I looked behind me, granny was busy blowing a fire made of dried maize cobs; she was engulfed in a cloud of smoke. Grandpa was picking eggs from the chicken mansion. No one was in sight.

I executed my plan so fast it even caught Monica by suprise. I pulled one of the stoppers, hit Monica on her soft under belly making her hit the milk pail with all she had. I was quick to hold the pail just so there was enough milk left only to make tea for the family.

I smiled. I was a genius! There was no going to the dairy that day. Now to my second part of the plan.

“AAAAh, MONICA!!!!!!. I shouted, “fuda wewe (donkey you!)!

Granny peeped through a hole from the kitchen and queried why i was being so ungentleman while dealing with girls.

“AAAAAAAH, si Monica has poured the milk!” Monica stopped rambaing the huge rock of salt i had hanged for her. If she knew kung fu she would have side kicked me to death.

“Ah, ok,” sighed granny, “just come with whatever is remaining!”

I tapped Monica’s huge tummy in a show of victory then let her out.

I took the little remaining milk to my granny who seconded my opinion that it was barely enough to take to the dairy. I was glad, my plan had worked. I was off the hook……..

“OOOOohhhhhh!!” exclaimed granny, “there was left over milk from morning!”

I looked back at her, my heart and eyes willing her not to say what i thought she wanted to.

“God is good, take this to the dairy……”

Like WHHHHHHHAaaaAAT???!!!

I felt my heart drop to my knees.

Deep down i knew Monica was smiling at my little plan gone bad!

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2 thoughts on “Monica big tits a gwan!

  1. Pingback: Father’s Day: My Absentee father. | Akhy Mjanja

  2. Pingback: Just A random Post | Akhy Mjanja

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