Richard Long: Beasts are better

Eileen turned the corner of the barn and came upon Doreen sitting on an upturned bucket and gazing intently into the corral. Looking that way, she saw Jackson, one of the burros they kept around the ranch for pack trips. An obstinate but sturdy little gray creature, he could be depended upon to eat anything left lying around a campsite and could empty a foodbox quicker than any group of cowboys she had ever known. Jackson stood placidly in the corral and nibbled at a few wisps of hay. Eileen walked closer to the woman, who stared at the burro as if she had been put into a trance; she was standing only a couple of feet away from Doreen before the woman turned to notice her. Eileen saw that her cheeks were flushed a deep hue of red and that she was highly agitated.

"My God, I'd always heard that about donkeys but I never really believed it!" Doreen whispered.

"What?" Eileen asked, seeing only the obstinate troublemaker she had always known. "I'm afraid I don't understand."

"That cock! Look at that cock hanging down from his belly!"

Eileen looked and had to suppress a giggle. As Doreen had said, Jackson's prick was indeed hanging from his scruffy gray belly. The instrument was dark-brown and drooped limply for about a foot. Doreen's hotly flushed face and bright, glinting eyes suggested that she found the sight exciting.

"Oh, that," Eileen said. "The burros are always doing that. The horses, too, at least the geldings and the stud. It doesn't mean anything, I don't think. My husband used to tell me that they ran their cocks out to cool them off!"

"Yes, I can see that it isn't hard," Doreen whispered. "But the size of the thing! Are horses much bigger than that?"

"Come to think of it, they're not," Eileen remarked. "That's a curious thing about animals, at least horses and burros. There isn't much difference in their cocks when they're hard and when they aren't, except that they get harder. But no bigger, though."

She could see that the woman was highly excited by the donkey's prick, which amused her. She herself had been around the ranch's animals far too long to see them as anything but familiar fixtures.

"I'll tell you what," Eileen suggested after a moment, during which Doreen had said nothing at all and had not removed her eyes from Jackson's cock. "If you'd like to go along, we could take a little drive tomorrow. I know something that might really interest you. Some of the neighbors are bringing over a couple of mares who are coming into heat; they're going to breed them to my stallion. We can slip down to the horse pasture tomorrow and have a good look at the proceedings if you'd like."

"Could we?" Doreen asked, moving her eyes away from Jackson for the first time. "My God, what an exciting thing to see! I've always beard about stallions and their mares; it sounds like it would be out of sight! Ooohh, I'd love to go!"

They made a date of it and Eileen promised to pick Doreen up at eight o'clock sharp for the drive to the horse pasture. She kept Ace, her prize stallion, in a pen by himself a couple of miles farther up a canyon, well away from the main cluster of buildings. Doreen had a question as soon as she got into the pickup the next morning.

"Will there be other people there?" she asked. "I think I'd be ashamed to watch if there were other people around. Isn't that hypocritical of me?"

"I don't know if it's hypocritical or not," Eileen said, "but I came prepared just in case. I've got a spotting telescope here and we can park well away from the lot if you'd rather. There will be some other people there – Hank, my foreman, and the men who own the mares. Come to think of it, you might feel a little out of place around them. I mean, it would be perfectly obvious that we'd come there just to see the mares get fucked."

Eileen had deliberately used the vulgar term, hoping to measure Doreen's reaction, and she scored a success right away. The woman's face flushed brightly and she averted her eyes at the mention of the plain, sturdy verb. Eileen congratulated herself upon having read her guest correctly: Doreen wanted to witness the breeding of a mare simply to excite herself. Evidently she was the kind of woman who found sexual activity exciting to watch, even though it only involved animals. Eileen had witnessed far too many breedings to find any special erotic thrill in it any longer; she associated a breeding with a lot of hard, dusty, sweaty work.

"It might be a little different from what you're expecting," she said as she turned off the main track and took the pickup into rougher country. "A stallion isn't always as horny as a man; sometimes he has to be coaxed into doing his work."

Doreen wanted to know what she meant but Eileen refused to explain, saying that she would see soon enough for herself. They clattered along over progressively rougher country and finally came to a halt. Eileen got out, bringing her spotting scope – Jack, Sr. had used it for target practice and hunting – and its tripod, and led Doreen into a thick clump of junipers crowning a low ridge. They squatted down in the edge of the thick growth and she set up the scope, pointing it at the small barn and corral laid out in the canyon floor beneath them. The corral was perhaps a quarter-mile off but the scope would bring it into close view, permitting them to see everything. She focused the instrument and then rolled out of the way for Doreen to see.

"We're just in time," she murmured. "And like I told you, the stallion's a bit balky. He's the sorrel."

Ace was indeed a handsome brute of an animal. His coat glistened in the sharp morning sunlight. He showed only a slight interest in the mares, a gray and a bay, and continued munching hay out of the trough before him.

"What are they doing with that burro?" Doreen asked.

Eileen explained that she was watching Jackson, the same burro she had seen yesterday. When a stallion proved balky and unwilling to mount the mares, she added, the men had to provoke his jealousy and get him more in the mood for servicing his mates. Burros, she said, were exceptionally horny and needed no such enticement; they were always ready to belly up to a mare and sink their cocks in a hot pussy. She allowed Doreen exclusive use of the scope, since she knew quite well what was going on, and explained the proceedings as she watched with her naked eyes.

"They get Jackson excited and he tries to mount the mare," she whispered. "But they don't let him fuck her; that would produce a mule instead of a horse colt and nobody wants a mule. So, as soon as it looks like he's going to get his prick in the mare, they slap it down and pull him off. After a while Ace will get interested and do his work properly."

Doreen expressed a compassionate regard for the frustrated burro, who was braying angrily and scuffing the dusty corral's floor in his impatience to start fucking. He sniffed under the gray mare's tail and mounted her with surprising ease. Doreen marveled at the way the tiny burro could strain and stretch himself in his effort to get his cock into the mare's pussy. Jackson cavorted like an acrobat and once seemed on the verge of crawling onto the mare's back.

Eileen could see that her guest was growing more excited by the minute and caught the sensual fever. Perhaps it was merely due to her proximity to the highly excited woman but whatever the cause, she felt a surge of hot, passionate blood flowing through the tissues of her pussy and became more aware of her sexual hungers. Doreen's grunts of surprise and moans of astonishment became more and more pronounced until Eileen began to wonder if the woman might come while watching the performance in the corral below. Ace finally caught the fever and quickly fucked both mares, nudging Jackson aside with proud disdain and mounting with an urgency. The mares shrieked with excitement when they felt the massive prick spearing their cunts, plowing deep and blasting out a load of hot come. Doreen expressed great surprise at the quickness of the act, once Ace had gotten the message.