Behold… The Tit Barn

Anytime I take the Wife to work, I pass this barn out in the country. I’ve taken to calling it the Tit Barn for obvious reasons.

Tit Barn

Once seen, it cannot be unseen.

The word is only visible at the beginning and the end of the day, and from the shaded side. I like to think the Tit Barn is a place of wonder and magic. A place where, if you enter at just the right time, you be treated to pleasures of the flesh beyond compare. A place bigger on the inside than out, and full of well-endowed women, like a TARDIS of Titties. A place where geeks go to die, ensconced in the warmth of large, beautiful jubblies.

I shot this picture with my longest zoom lens. I don’t dare get any closer. I have to cling to the dream because I’m sure it’s a trap.

A Tit Barn? Come on. Too good to be true.

I open that barn door, I’m sure all I will find is a John Deere tractor, a banjo player, and a man eager to make me squeal like a pig.

About Mike Oliveri

Mike Oliveri is a writer, martial artist, cigar aficionado, motorcyclist, and family man, but not necessarily in that order. He is currently hard at work on the werewolf noir series The Pack for Evileye Books.

One comment

  1. TriMarkC says:

    LOL!! Only you cuz!

    Squeeeeeel