"You know, Maury isn't here yet."The stunned look on her face spawned an outburst of laughter from her friends. I grinned at the thought of her with m... closing bartender. Maury was a five foot, eight inch, 150 pound, banty rooster of a cowboy in his early fifties. He really was a cowboy, since he ranched during the day and then tended bar most nights.My grin turned into a smile as I watched her discomfort. Apparently that wasn't the bartender she'd meant. I saw the joy drain out of her face as. Doris reminded me of what to do and how to do it. Measuring the feed sometimes became a challenge, since Doris had changed quite a bit. If you read the first part of the Doris story, you remember how her breasts had just begun to bud. Well, the buds became more like little bulges.We busied ourselves, and finished the chores in what seemed to be no time. That left us time for fun. Doris took me on a tour of the farm, as some changes had taken place since I was there last. As we walked, we also. More

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