J. Bradley: The hog wives

Phyllis had been whimpering nasally as she mouthed his cock; now she moaned and lowered her crotch until the flared lips of her twat squished over Dean's mouth. He gave up all pretense of disinterest as he probed her hole with his tongue, then licked around in the wetness of the fleshy petals and gathered in her dew.

She moaned more loudly as he licked and nibbled at the inside edges of her swollen lips, then flicked the tip of his tongue at the hard little stub of her clit.

Dean breathed in her fragrance as he reveled in the exciting flavor of the honey he was gathering. She was burying his cock in her throat at every stroke, now. He had the feeling that they were more completely connected than ever before. It was like the proverbial pair of snakes; each swallowing the other's tail until they both disappeared completely.

His cock was vibrantly alive a pulsing extension of his mind and soul as well as his body and it was deep inside her head, his balls pressed to her moist lips. He had his tongue once more thrust inside her cunt, probing as far as he could reach.

He had a momentary fantasy in which he imagined that he was so far within her at both ends that he could touch the tip of his tongue to the head of his cock.

Phyllis was moving her ass in circles now. She was steaming with passion, and for every little fuck he gave her with his tongue, she gave him a good suck that made him groan into her cunt with a sound of ecstatic pleasure.

She was nearing her climax, and she gloried in the joyful connection that melted them together. She wanted him to eat her cunt until she exploded, and she was fiercely greedy for the hot come that she knew he would give her soon.

Her ass was moving up and down, now, as well as in lateral and spiral jerks. Dean was growing more excited, too. He fucked up into her delicious mouth, meeting her nods with gentle but demanding thrusts that pressed his cock along her tongue and into her throat.

She was giving it powerful little sucks each time it withdrew, leaving only the mammoth head behind her lips. And from the way Dean was groaning into her cunt, she knew he was about to unload.

Dean seized her clit in his lips, and he began to give her suck for suck. She moaned around the hard flesh that filled her mouth, and she felt her heated body swell as though it might explode at any moment.

Then she began to come, and Dean had to grab her by the cheeks of her ass and hold her cunt to his mouth as she shook and jerked in the hard spasm of her orgasm.

He felt his guts tighten, then his sperm boiled up and shot into her mouth. She swallowed as each jet splashed against her throat, and they kept coming together until they broke apart as if controlled by the same puppet master.

Groans filled the room, then there was only the sound of heavy breathing as they lay there on the sweat-soaked sheet and panted. Dean felt as if a giant hand bad grabbed him around the middle and wrung him like a sponge; he bad never felt so drained.

"I've had it, baby!" he said hoarsely. "If you need more, I'm afraid you'll have to get it from Laddie; this threshing seems to take a lot out of me."

From the kitchen came a soft whine of recognition as the big collie heard his name. But he knew he was not allowed in any other room of the house, so he heaved a heavy canine sigh, then grew quiet.

Phyllis knew that Dean had been joking, but she refused to pass up the opportunity to sound him out. She changed her position so that she was not lying in such a damp spot on the sheet; she swallowed and took a deep breath.

"You're all talk," she said, hoping that she had just the right amount of teasing mixed with sincerity in her voice. "Even if I got so hot I was about to lose my mind, you'd be mad if I let Laddie get to me."

"I don't know…" Dean's voice was speculative as well as sleepy. "Most animals are cleaner than humans… and he sure as hell can't knock you up! Jesus, but I'm tired…"

Phyllis listened quietly for a while. Soon she heard Dean's soft snoring sounds. She moved very carefully to right herself in bed, then lay with her head off the pillow as she thought about visiting Mary Margaret.

Just before she fell asleep, she wondered if she should take one of Laddie's bones from the freezer for the Great Dane… there was nothing like starting off on the right foot…

Cole McDonald watched the last of the rich goat milk being broken down by the centrifugal force of the cream separator, then he left the machine to take the five-gallon can of whole milk into the cooler room. Soon he had the vessels of separated milk and thick cream covered and sitting on the shelf in the cooler, above the big can that awaited pickup by the dairy co-operative.

It was so pleasantly refreshing in the cooler room that he hated to leave it, but when his sweaty clothes began to feel cold next to his skin, he got out quickly and went back into the milking barn to finish his chores.

The wind was blowing from the direction of the big pen where he kept his stud billy goat, and he frowned at the potency of the odor. It was again time to get busy with the Lysol and garden hose; occasional visitors could be unsold on the idea of drinking goat milk or giving it to their children, if they caught a whiff of that. The Wilson County Goat Dairy Co-operative sometimes sent people to visit member facilities without warning.

He saw that one of the Nubians had remained in the barn, instead of trotting outside to play with the others. She was sniffing at the ripe billy-goat smell in the wind, and he could see that her twat was oozing juice. Her stubby tail waggled excitedly, and she gave out a few low bleats as she restlessly clicked her hooves on the concrete floor.

"So you're ready for old Randy, huh?" he said, walking over to her and scratching her neck sympathetically. She turned to look over her shoulder at him, her eyes rolling to show the whites as she bleated again.

Cole was not sure, then or later, if it was the contact of her rump as she swung nervously against him, bumping into his cock warmly, or whether the acrid stud scent had affected him to some degree.

Whatever triggered him off, he impulsively opened the fly of his white coveralls, reached into the slit of his shorts, then fished out his suddenly rigid prick. He groaned as he shinned it back and squeezed the pulsing shaft. He maneuvered himself into an attack position behind the trembling nanny.

He almost did a split trying to separate his booted feet far enough to get his cock lowered to the same level as the goat's dripping cunt. He swore as he straightened up, then hooked a finger into her collar and led her up the ramp to the nearest milking station.

He secured her head in the stanchion, noticing that there was still some molasses-oats in the manager, then he resumed his position behind her, standing on the middle slope of the ramp. His cock was throbbing excitedly now as he leaned in toward the moist warmth of the twitching goat cunt.

His hands caressed her flanks soothingly as he spoke to her in the low, reassuring tones he used to calm skittish nannies during the period of their first milkings.

"Easy, Raquel!" he said. The name on her collar tag was Rachel but Cole allowed himself his own fantasies as he slowly eased the tip of his cock into the heated ooze of her flared cuntlips. "Just keep sniffing old Randy on the breeze, girl… imagine you're getting his hairy prong in you the way you did last year!"

She bleated, moved nervously, then almost put a hoof down on his instep. He moved quickly, and she stepped just next to the rubber boot as he got the head of his cock wedged into the quivering hole.

"Easy, baby… don't fight it, Raquel!" he crooned. He applied a little pressure. His hands pressed down over her hipbones, and she bleated excitedly, her rear end rocking backward and upward as she moved to meet the stimulus of his probing prick.