Printer hums in the corner. Mouse clicks echo from the open-space. Coffee stench mixes with my sweet perfume. I’m back from the bakery run, bike parked outside the old manoir office. That’s when I see him. Eugène, the farm boss, yanking Rosette by the halter. My sweet heifer. The one I bottle-fed last summer. He’s dragging her toward the pen by the conference room.
Heart races. I slip into the conference room. Door clicks shut. Locked. Window overlooks the enclosure. Eugène ties Rosette facing the stone wall. Disappears. Returns hauling Hannibal. That monster bull weighs a ton. Pink balls swing low. Cock slides out. Huge. Thicker than my wrist. Shiny tip.
The Tension Builds in the Open-Space
He bellows. Sniffs her cunt. Licks it sloppy. She lifts tail. Invites. Eugène stands a meter away. His eyes lock mine. Dark. Primal. Belly knots. He steps behind. Hands grip the sill beside mine. Breath hot on neck. Musk hits: sweat, tobacco, cum, shit. No words.
Hannibal mounts. Crashes in deep. One thrust. Rosette shudders under muscle mountain. Fucks brutal. Eugène’s callused paws seize my hips. Nails dig. Hard pole grinds my ass through jeans. I freeze. Like her. He rips open my blouse. Bra cups shoved down. Tits spill. Pinches nipples raw. Yanks jeans and thong to ankles.
Cock wedges between thighs. Legs bend. Up he surges. Fills me balls-deep. Stretched. Owned. Pounds like the bull. Slaps echo. Wet sucks from my pussy. Tits smash glass. I gasp. Crests hit. Cum gushes. He pauses. Surprised. Then hammers harder. Growls. Floods my womb. Second wave crashes. Legs buckle.
He zips up. Unties Rosette. Her gash drips. He walks off. I stagger. Pull up soaked panties. Jeans cling sticky. Stuff bra in pocket. Button blouse crooked. Sneak to bathroom. Shower long. Brain spins. Not frigid. This dirty farm grunt gave what boys couldn’t.
Days later. Libido burns. Fingers fail. Spot Émile spying from supply closet as I pet Rosette. His dad’s boy. Simple. Younger. I change. Short jean skirt. Tight blouse. Two buttons undone. Nipples peek. Stroll in. He hides poor. Ignore. Feed Rosette carrots.
The Explosive Release
Saunter to closet door. Eyes meet. Stare. I part blouse. Arch tits. Mouth drops. Real flesh. Not mags. Step close. Guide his hand to breast. Jumps. But holds. Mine dives zipper. Grips bulge. Semi-hard. Promising. Yank out cock. Thickens. He squeezes tit fierce.
Push to boxes. Like hay. Straddle. Stroke shaft. Too fast. He bucks. Squirts ropes. Hits skirt. Pats hair tender. Shrinks small. I hold. Flip skirt. Shove hand in thong. Teach rhythm. Fingers slide slit. Up down. Soak lace. He gets it. Digs deep.
Turn. Suck limp dick. Salty. Hardens. Sixty-nine. Thong off. Nose on clit. Tongue laps. Fingers fuck. I swallow cock. Balls tight. Pull hair. Kneel him. Legs on shoulders. Stares at pussy. Dives. Rams home. Pistons wild. Fills void. Cum together. Seed spurts.
Three more times. Purge first. Hand or mouth. Condoms grudging. He leads last. Doggy over boxes. Face in stacks. Hammers like dad. Bull-rides me.
Back to Paris. Apply trick. Tease slow. Orgasms flow. Thanks, Rosette. You showed the way.