"I don't know what you mean." Michael says, trying to throw the topic away as casually as possible.
Gwen gives him a knowing smile while continuing to wash the dishes. "They're blue and shiny, I wonder what they can do to the women, that get lost in them, I'm sure you get a lot of play, don't you huh."
Michael lets out a long, relieved exhale when he realizes she's only talking about the color of his eyes and not something more dangerous.
"Yeah, they're pretty cool for talking with the ladies." he answers with an awkward laugh, rubbing the back of his neck.
"If that's so, why were you so terrified by the question, or is there something else to those eyes:" Gwen continues without even looking at him. Her tone is light, but the way she keeps her eyes fixed on the plates makes the question feel heavier.
"No, no, it just caught me off guard." Michael replies, also refusing to look at her. The kitchen falls into an uncomfortable silence, broken only by the soft clinking of plates under running water.
After a while Gwen speaks again, her voice suddenly playful.
"Are you a virgin?"
Michael chokes hard on his own spit. Gwen bursts into loud, unrestrained laughter that echoes through the kitchen.
Still a bit flustered, Michael eventually escapes back to his room and drops onto his bed. He stares at the ceiling, Gwen's earlier words replaying in his head.
"What would happen if other people apart from Pierre and Fleure found out about my powers, would it cause an uproar, and they are other people apart from me and Fleure that have powers, I wonder how many they are."
He turns onto his side and closes his eyes. "This Isn't something I should be wrecking my head for now, I need to sleep, it's been a long Friday." Exhaustion quickly pulls him under.
---
Morning light filters through the curtains. The moment Michael opens his door, he finds Clara standing right outside. She is dressed in a simple but form-fitting farm-girl outfit — denim shorts, a tied-up shirt, and boots. Michael freezes for a second, caught between confusion and quiet appreciation of how well it suits her.
"Hey, no standing around, go wear some shorts, and a sleeveless shirt." Clara says, pointing at him with a no-nonsense expression.
"Why?" Michael asks, still half-asleep.
"Cause you're going to help out in the farm." she answers with a bright smile.
"Well to be honest, that wouldn't be all bad, it's better than rotting indoors all day." Michael tells her. A less innocent thought slips into his mind. "Plus maybe I'll get some action with cla-." He immediately cuts it off, scolding himself. "Dude again, that's your dad's fiancée, what's wrong with you!!."
He goes back inside, changes into the clothes she requested, and steps out again. Clara is already waiting by a large pickup truck, arms crossed.
"Woah are you really able to drive a truck this big, it's usually the men that take charge of this." Michael jokes as he approaches.
Clara raises one arm and playfully flexes her bicep. "Don't underestimate me." They both laugh as they climb into the truck and pull onto the road.
"Hey Clara, do you know where my dad went to, I didn't see him this morning." Michael asks once they're driving.
"Your dad had a big shipment of crops to deliver this morning, so he left extra early, that's why I asked for your help." Clara explains, eyes on the road.
"So I'm second choice huh." Michael teases.
"Third actually." Clara shoots back without hesitation. They both laugh again.
Michael turns to look out the window. The local people are already out working on the roads, smiling and chatting with one another. The simple, peaceful atmosphere makes him smile as the truck rolls past.
They eventually arrive at the farm and hop down from the vehicle.
"Woah, when did the farm become this big, last time I came, dad didn't have this much land." Michael says, genuinely impressed by the expanded fields.
"Your dad's neighbor said the land, he had been holding for so long, after years of persuasion." Clara answers.
While they're still talking, a ginger-haired woman in overalls comes walking out of a nearby building at a brisk pace, waving energetically.
"Holy cow." Michael thinks as his eyes are drawn to the way her large breasts bounce heavily with every step she takes.
"Hey Clara!!." the woman calls out, pulling Clara into a tight, friendly hug.
"Hey Beatrice." Clara replies with a matching smile.
Beatrice then turns her full attention to Michael, openly looking him up and down. "Who is this fine lad."
"It's Richard's son, Michael." Clara introduces.
"Oh really, he's so big and handsome, nothing like Richard at all." Beatrice teases with a playful grin. Clara gives her a light punch on the arm. The three of them head deeper into the farm, where Clara climbs onto a small podium and begins briefing the workers on the day's tasks.
While she speaks, almost every female worker keeps stealing long, flirty glances at Michael.
"This has to be heaven." he thinks, unable to stop a small, satisfied smile from forming. Every single one of them is older than him.
"Michael your assigned cow milking duty with Zoey." Clara announces from the podium.
Michael glances over at Zoey and notices she looks genuinely excited about the pairing. "She's not bad to be honest:" he monologues, taking in her long black hair and the full, eye-catching curves of her hips and bust.
Clara steps down and walks over to them. "Zoey, make sure to put Michael through, so he can be of help."
"Sure thing." Zoey answers, briefly licking her lips as her eyes flick toward Michael. Clara and Beatrice then leave for another section of the farm.
"So where are these cows?" Michael asks.
Zoey completely ignores the question. Instead she stands still and examines him with intense, hungry eyes, slowly dragging her gaze from his face down to his chest, arms, and lower.
"Is something wrong?" Michael asks, growing more confused by the open staring.
"nothing." she finally says in a flat tone, then suddenly walks off at a faster pace. Still puzzled, Michael reluctantly follows her.
They reach the cow barn and step inside. The air is warmer here, filled with the earthy scent of hay and animals. A row of large cows stands calmly in their stalls.
"Hope you aren't afraid of them." Zoey asks, glancing back at him.
"No, who's actually afraid of cows." Michael answers with a snarky tone.
Right on cue, one of the cows lets out a powerful, wet sneeze. Michael jumps hard, nearly dropping his composure.
"Yeah, who's scared of cows." Zoey laughs openly while Michael shoots the animal a dirty look.
"This is big Bertha, she's the cow you're going to be milking today." Zoey says, settling onto a small wooden stool next to the massive animal.
"I thought this was meant to be a group effort?" Michael asks, raising an eyebrow.
"Yeah it is, who else is going to supervise you, you know." she answers with a mischievous smile. Michael chuckles and looks around the empty barn.
"Go pick up the bucket over there." Zoey instructs. He retrieves the metal bucket and returns to her side.
"Place the bucket underneath the cows breasts." she tells him. Michael does as instructed, sliding it into position.
"What else?" he asks.
"Take off your shirt." Zoey says suddenly, biting her lower lip as her eyes linger on his chest.
"Is that really important to milking a cow?" Michael questions, clearly skeptical.
"Who's the superior here!!." Zoey replies with a grin that leaves no room for argument. Michael hesitates for a few seconds, then pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it aside.
"Yeah, that's what I thought." Zoey says, her voice a little lower than before.
"Woah he's ripped, you wouldn't think it would be the case. Underneath the shirt." she thinks, a visible flush rising to her cheeks as her eyes roam over his defined chest and abs.
"Now what?" Michael asks, snapping her out of her daze.
"Start pulling the cows breasts, not too hard, not too soft." she instructs, her voice slightly breathier.
Michael begins milking. At first the motion feels awkward and strange, but after a few minutes he finds a steady rhythm. After a while he glances up — and completely freezes.
Zoey is no longer sitting properly on the stool. Her skirt is hiked high up her thighs and her shirt is hanging open, completely exposing her. One hand is buried between her legs as she openly pleasures herself, eyes locked on Michael's half-naked body while he works.
"Is she pleasuring herself!!, and to me, damn, I didn't even have to use my eye." Michael thinks, heat rushing through him. He continues the milking motion, unable to look away for long. Zoey's breathing grows heavier, her expression twisting with approaching pleasure.
He forces himself to look back down at the bucket for a moment. When he glances up again, Zoey is no longer on the stool. She is standing right in front of him, so close he can feel the heat coming off her body. Spit glistens on her lips, and pure, unfiltered hunger is written across her face.
"Uhm, wh-, what's wrong." Michael manages with an awkward, nervous laugh.
"You've done enough, the milk should be ok." Zoey answers, her voice rough as she lets out a heavy breath.
"So what's ne-." Michael starts to ask as he begins to stand, but the words are cut off when Zoey suddenly surges forward and crashes her lips against his. The kiss is immediate and intense — tongues sliding together as they exchange saliva in a deep, hungry exchange.
"Woah this is happening, this is really happening, and here I was, thinking I'll have to use my eyes on this trip." Michael thinks, stunned by how aggressively she initiated it.
They break apart for only a second. Zoey's eyes are dark with desire, her chest rising and falling quickly.
"Have I ever been this lucky." Michael murmurs under his breath before pulling her back into another heated, open-mouthed kiss.