Charles Richards - A Kingdom Of Love

Joan became aware of that fact and she humped her ass in a fantail as if she were a peacock. She wondered where Myrna had gone because she was certainly missing one hell of a show.

Justice socked his lumber to her and she sawed away fervently with the blazing churn of her hips. But then just moments later the lumber thrust again and was an angry bear having caught an invader in its cave. He remembered how glorious Joan's face had been as she had mounted her lips to his cockhead and sucked. Her eyes had shined in the centers like suns. He was a white goat with a red-centered eye being sucked into a dream.

Whap! The whip of his hips slipped her a good one and he felt the filly shudder. He was a cowpoke again but it did not matter to him because here she comes!

He felt Joan quake and shudder and he knew she was cumming from his rock hammer blasts. Justice felt his cum start. Boom! The cum shook out of the stern of his erection with gigantic power as he let every fiber of his being loose and he shot off the first orgiastic spasm into Joan.

The heat of the seminal fluid seared within Joan's pussy canal; and she clutched at him with the walls of her cunt, creating a snapping sound.

Wow! But this bitch is good, Justice thought to himself. So that she would not miss any of it he put all his might behind the blasts of cock cream hurled within. Joan felt absolutely gorged with wild, raw cock.

Pulsing and vibrating with aftershocks of their mutual cumming, they collapsed on the circus clods of earth beneath their sweating bodies.

They both rolled lazily over until Justice lay on his back with Joan on her side, leaning on his ribs and muscled thigh. With a groan of beautiful sexual surfeit she flung her delicate arm over his massive chest and they fell asleep like two exhausted children.

"Oliver! Oliver, you and I must talk," Myrna said in a gush as she burst in on the circus manager late that night. "You'll never believe this. But, already that little she-bitch has got her heat on-and I just left her licking Justice's ass in the center ring."

"You should have joined in, my dear." Oliver grinned lewdly at the animal whip in Myrna's hand. 'Evidently, you'll just have to start whipping the girl into shape earlier than you thought."

Oliver Oates, short, squat and blond, chuckled like a greedy fat child after three candy bars.

He was a punster when he could be but most often Myrna's whip cut his wit off short. She glared at him now.

"This is no time for bad jokes, Oliver Oates." She reprimanded the fat little man and the chuckle disappeared. "We're going to have trouble with that kid."

"What kind of trouble, Myrna?" Oliver whined. "I thought your sister said she was an animal lover."

"Oh, stop your sniveling and let me think!" Myrna snapped, then turned her back on Oliver's dismay and stared into the night. "Oh, it's no use!" She stomped her foot, then turned back to face Oates. "I'm sure what Amanda says about the girl is true enough, but that's not the question here."

"Why! I believe you're jealous, Myrna love," Oliver said cunningly.

"What? Of that kid? She couldn't possibly come between me and the animals. Why, my years of experience alone… Hell, I'm old enough to be her mother!"

"That's not what she's come between, dear," Oliver said with relish in his voice. "She's come between you and Justice, Dear. And you're afraid she might be better than you."

"That little brown nose," sneered Myrna unconvincingly. "She'll never be the cocksucker I am-I can assure you of that."

"Have you checked the animals yet?" asked Oliver, suddenly feeling queasy and wanting to change the subject in the face of Myrna's wrath.

"No," Myrna answered irritably. She had nearly forgotten her nightly check she was so pissed at that little bitch. "No, I haven't, dammit!

And wipe that sneer off your face!"

"Yes, Myrna," Oliver said sheepishly as with some effort he turned his lips up into a grin.

"And wipe that insane smile off your face, as well!" Myrna's voice rose in a tirade and Oliver was caught betwixt and between.

When Oliver had nowhere else to go, he became jovial: "Yes, indeedy!"

"Oh God, you are incorrigible," Myrna gasped, completely exasperated.

"Come on. I want you along when I check the animals."

"Not tonight, Myrna."

"Tonight, Oliver," Myrna insisted, now firmly gaining control of herself. "I haven't seen you around the ewe much lately. For a while there, a real love affair was going on. What happened, Oliver? She too hot to handle?"

"There's no need for abuse, Myrna. I'll come with you, of course; just let me get my coat."

As they walked together across the circus ground to the animal tent, Oliver's shape was like a butterball next to the statuesque Myrna. She was still in a lather and smacked the coiled whip against her leg like a tambourine in march step. Her jaw was set and her eyes gleamed with a hidden fever. Her strides were so long that the shorter legs of Oliver nearly had to run to keep up with her.

When Myrna was in this kind of mood Oliver knew better than to say anything; so he merely hurried along by her side and kept silent.

When they arrived at the animal tent, Myrna suddenly ordered: "Put your hipboots on, Oliver. I want you in the ring with the ewe."

Rather than enrage her any further Oliver shrugged his coat off and took the huge rubber boots to a nearby bench and sat down.

Myrna moved between the bars of the cage rows until she found the ewe and her ram. Then she trotted out the female while holding the old man off with the handle of her whip against his forehead. "Phew!" she grunted with the effort. Turning, she saw that Oliver already had his pants off and was into his hipboots. He looked ludicrous; the plump mounds of his white ass glared chubbily in the dark. She flicked the whip sharply from her side and a tiny ping of pain stung Oliver's behind.

"Now you know how I feel about the whip, Myrna. I forbid you to employ it on me!"

"Shut up, and get in the pen, Oliver. Here's the ewe."

The sheep's eyes gleamed like red rocks of fire in her white head as she gazed up at Oliver from beneath Myrna's hand. He was entranced by those eyes and moved like a fat wooden soldier into the training pen.

The ewe followed and Myrna swung the gate closed behind them. Oliver had his back to the animal and when she pawed the ground impatiently he turned to face her. He approached her with a coo in his voice so as not to get her excited at first. He wanted to avoid a struggle with her legs when he picked up her rear end and imprisoned the limbs within his boots. He soothed her fleecy coat with light strokes as he moved along her flank.

"Good girl. Good. Take it easy." Oliver's voice was gentle and sure; as he took her by the loins and dropped her hooves into the hipboot tops.

She squirmed a little and Oliver had to struggle to avoid being toppled, but soon she calmed and he soothed her rump with gentle hands.

Expertly his fingers found the puckered twat beneath the sheep's fleecy ass and he moved his stubby cock toward its goal. Wriggling the tip of his stem into the blossom of the ewe's cunt.

Just then Myrna's whip stung him like a bee on his chubby ass and he screeched his displeasure.

"No whip, Myrna! No whip-I told you that!"

Oliver was beginning to sweat from the effort required to keep the wriggling ewe impaled on his prick. He grasped each side of the sheep's flanks and clutched the loins of her legs to him while his midsection worked to get a rhythm started. He was huffing and puffing around the pen with the sheep's weight on her forward hooves like a wheelbarrow.

He was maintaining his own-but it was a struggle. Finally he managed to guide her into a corner of the square pen and to press her into it.