Chapter 95: A new record

Andrew had never felt so exhausted in his whole life. 

He lay on the bed at this point, hos body unable to hold himself up. Maxwell was a giggling fool beside him, all bright blue eyes curled into beautiful crescents, soft touches and pure, male pride. 

He was cocky, and Andrew couldn't deny it. He had every right to be so. 

Andrew had thought that he had milked Maxwell in the bathroom. He had been very, very wrong. Milking? He had no understanding of the word. He'd been a fool, thinking he was a dairy farmer, when in fact, he owned one fucking cow. 

Maxwell? Maxwell was a dairy farmer. And the giggling warmth pressed against his side had earned that title. 

"You did such a good job, Andy. You came 12 times. That's amazing. Are you doing okay? Could you go another round?" The man asked with plump, swollen lips. Andrew worried that he was in pain, but instead he seemed invigorated. Andrew was worried even more.