R Geis - A donkey named Peter

"Meanwhile, Bess was kneeling beside the animal and her hands were moving closer and closer under his barrel of a chest, down into the shaggy yellow-white hair of his underbelly."

"She got her left hand on that wet purple thing and started playing with it, running her fingers up and down on it, and getting her hand around it and starting to kind of jack him off."

"Peter started gettin' frisky with her doing that to him. He brayed a lot, but not too loud, and he stomped the floorboards good. And he tossed his head and turned his neck to look at her."

"Bess let go of his pole and opened up her robe and let it fall off her shoulders. Oh, what a woman she was. I've never seen a woman to match her since, and I've seen my share."

"She was very white – white skin all over – and built like that ol' brick shithouae, you know? Had a pair of milkers on her… came out to here with beautiful, red, crinkled up teats. You'd swear she had a half-gallon of milk in them breasts of hers, they were so swollen and stuck-out and round. You'd swear it would be a kindness to her to start suckin' on them."

"And she had an ass on her… each half nice and smooth and round… and legs like you see in the movies."

"Only thing not perfect about Bess was her left foot, which was clubbed, from when she was born, and she walked with a limp and had to wear a special shoe. Shoes for her cost up to fifty dollars, I heard once. Still and all, everybody figured her husband got a bargain, marrying her."

"But maybe that clubfoot made her a little odd in the head. Kids can be cruel to crippled kids, and I bet she got bent in the head when she was young. Maybe that's why she took to that donkey. Or maybe it was those long, cold, dark mountain winters."

"But there I was crouchin' outside that barn lookin' in through a crack in the boards… and there she was crawlin' in under that donkey, with him stampin' and slobberin' from the mouth, all ready to go, with that long pecker all slid out."

"I frankly didn't think any woman could hope to encompass all that much pole. I frankly didn't think any woman had that much of a hole in her."

"But Bess… I'm telling you. She crawled under that animal with her ass rubbing the end of that big pecker, and she's on all fours, like an animal herself, and she gits on her hands and knees under him, between his four legs, like it was a natural thing. I got a cold chill seeing her in that position. Wasn't anything to the creepy feeling I got when she and him started fucking."

"Bess reached back under between her legs and grabbed that pole and put the end of it into herself. That was a thick chunk to get in, too, let me tell you. And Peter didn't make it any easier for her. He was moving around as much as he could, and beginning to shove, too."

"But she got it into herself and when he felt that he up and clopped his front feet up on a shelf, just like held been trained to, I expect, and this gave him a purchase and an angle he needed, like he was mounting a she-donkey, and he got that first big shove into her good."

"I could hear everything pretty good. That board wall was a sieve for sound, and when that pole slammed into her, Bess let out a grunt with a squeal on the end of it you could've heard for a hundred yards."

"Of course she didn't limit herself that way. She figured she was alone for ten miles every way around. So she let herself go. She talked to that animal like he was human."

"What she did – she leaned forward when he shoved, and leaned back when he pulled back, and that way she wasn't impaled all at once, and she didn't lose him, either. She had it all worked out."

"Even so… she didn't match him right a couple times and that pecker fell out of her. She had to reach back and put it back in."

"And a lot of times – 'specially toward the end – she or he lost the rhythm and she took nearly all of that pole -smack – whole! and boy, she howled good. But it was a good-feelin' howl, I could tell. She liked it even if it did near stretch her box to the limit. She had it plow into her like that over a dozen times, I imagine, and her whole body would snap tight like a jolt of electricity had gone through her."

"I think that fucking lasted a good ten minutes. She got to where she was out of her mind, had her hands straight forward on the boards, pushing herself back on that mighty pecker that was plowing into her, right up into her. I didn't believe a woman could find room for a pecker that big around and that long. I sure as hell ain't seen the like since."

"You take a look at a seven or eight-year-old's arm sometime, from the fist to the elbow, and you try to imagine that's a purple donkey pole getting shoved up into a handsome young woman, naked, in a barn… The things people will do."

"I got to admit I was sweating while watching all this. I got the hot chills from seeing it. And my right hand was down in my pants, rubbing away good."

"But Bess was the one who was really enjoying that fucking she was getting. She was grunting every time it went in… and usually it went in only about two-thirds. She was drooling a little, too, and not knowing or caring about it. The woman was out of her mind. I don't know what it feels like to be a woman, getting fucked like that animal was fucking her, and I don't want to."

"The cap on it was when the animal shot his wad into her. He got wild and was fucking her so hard I thought she'd get ruptured. She was having that pole all the way in, having it shoved in with a couple hundred pounds of impact."

"She was helpless, like a worm taking a hook. Except she kept pushing back for more each time he pushed her forward."

"I have to say she shocked me. I was squatting outside, peering in through that crack in the boards, beating my meat, watching it all, and I was hypnotized. Bess' milkers were wobbling under her, like round white pots. Her head was hanging down, and her long hair was trailing on the blanket over the little mattress."

"And all this was in that yellow light from the lantern and with all that fucking causing shadows. And that animal was breathing loud and fast, like a windstorm. And he kept clomping his hooves on the boards and braying once in a while… and shoving that pole into her as fast as he could. He couldn't get enough into her, it looked like, and she was grunting when he got most or all of it in, grunting like a big man had slugged her in the gut."

"When that animal shot his wad it was like a fountain of cream had backed up in her. It came shooting out around his pole from her insides, like a pump. Each time he shoved into her he shot more into her hole and each time when he got in deep enough the pressure would squirt the stuff out of her."

"I guess I was pop-eyed seeing all that. I had a handful of my own stuff shooting out into my pants, I admit that. Got nothing to hide. Not at this late date."

"Bess was grunting and howling like crazy while that animal was shooting in her. It was enough to turn me gray. Didn't know whether to run in there and stop it or not."

"Then it was over. Peter brayed loud once and started to struggle to get his front legs down off that shelf made of two-by-fours."

"Bess got out from under him quick. She looked punch-drunk, and she was dripping a steady flow of his stuff out of her hole."

"She stood up and helped him down. Then she put some extra oats in his feed trough and put on her robe again. She limped out of the barn with the lantern and went into the house."

"I went back to my car down the road and drove home. I was pretty wrung out, and I guess Bess slept good that night, too."

"The thing is, you see, I couldn't let it alone. I wanted to see that happen again, and stirrin' in my mind was a strong yen to do things with Bess myself."

"Now, I knew I had an ace to play, having seen what she did with old Peter. But I figured a picture would be something powerful to get my way with."