Horny Day 7
Beginning to question if her suppositions are correct, Beth is confronted with the strangely hot reality of the situation.
This was written to celebrate National Horny Day
Family dinner was awkward. It always is, but this time, Beth has to sit through her father’s boasting, and her brother’s doom-scrolling, all while receiving psychic backlash from her time fucking the neighbor. The way that he held her and unrelentingly pounding into her, and finally shooting his shot deep into her—that was all ways that he said he fucked Bertha Kine.
Was it part of a bit? Was it just stuff the two of them said to one another to make the experience hotter? That’s a possibility for sure. But the family spends much time at his place, her father talking sports, her mom helping him around the house, and Billy. Well, Billy was straight up just fucking the guy. He couldn’t make any excuses that she didn’t see right through.
Even so, the idea that Cody’s bi does make her wonder… if he’s so brazenly fucking both Kine siblings. Would he also fuck the parents as well?”
“Now, dear, you haven’t started. Is something wrong?” It’s her mom. The pleasantly plump Holstein smiles, placing a hand on Beth’s shoulder and squeezing it gently.
“Ah, nothing. Just business,” Beth says, digging into her meal. She could figure all this out later. This was something that could wait, surely. But as she’s just starting to get into mealtime, her phone buzzes, alerting her of a text message.
“Get to your window. You’ll want a good seat.”
Narrowing her gaze, Beth looked to her mom and then to the phone. Huffing gently, she responded. “What are you trying to pull. She’s right here!”
Just as she sends the text, her mother receives a phone call. The larger bovine woman wipes her face with a paper towel and excuses herself, pulling out the phone. “Yes? Oh, I see.” She taps her fingers on the table, biting her lip.
Oh fuck.
“Excuse me,” Beth says, pushing herself from the table, her body trembling. Bob quirks an eyebrow, and Billy buried his head in his phone. Beth runs off to her room, closing the door fast shut behind her, clutching at her chest.
“What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck?” she asks herself, moving a hand downwards, down to her navel and below. “Oh fuck,” she shudders “This is… it shouldn’t be but… but it’s so fuckin’ hot,” she breathes out and then heads on over to her window. There, she opens the blinds and peers outside, toward Cody’s.
He’s out there, sitting on a lawn chair, dressed only in shorts and sipping a beer. In his other hand, he’s holding his phone, laughing and talking away. There can be many people he’s talking to, surely. So many explanations for these events don’t lead ot the one that swirls around her mind immediately.
The door opens downstairs, and Beth’s heart leaps nearly out of her chest. Someone just stepped out. That’s all that was going on. But Cody Rey’s gate opens, and she enters his and her mother's yards.
Really, could there be any doubting the truth about what’s happening any longer? Beth grips the windowsill with one hand and bites the knuckles of the other Cody is going to fuck her mother, and he invited Beth to watch.
* * *
“Now, dear, you haven’t started. Is something wrong?”
A mother always knows when something is going on with her daughter, especially when her daughter is so much like her at her age—not that Beth would ever want to hear such a thing, nor Bertha tell her such a thing. But still, things can be dangerous for a gal in her twenties—she really should know.
But before the conversation can get off the ground, her phone rings. When Bertha checks it, her heart skips a beat, and she answers immediately. “Yes?”
“It’s that time of month, Bertha, old gal,” croons the voice on the other end.
She knew it, but hearing it from him makes her bite her lip. She taps on the table excitedly. “Oh, I see.”
“Come on over, so we can try to get a kid in ya,” Cody says. “It’s a beautiful day.”
By this time, Beth excuses herself and heads upstairs.
“Alright. I’ll be right over.” She says this, hanging up and kissing her husband on the cheek. “Sorry ‘bout this, Bob, but Cody needs my help with…” she glances toward Billy, who is paying them both no mind, “Something.”
“Need me to help out?” asks Bob.
“Nah, this requires a woman’s touch.”
Bob nods and grabs the TV remote, turning it on for some quiet dinner time viewing. “Let him know he owes me a beer, then.”
With that, Bertha takes a deep breath and she heads outside. It’s a warm day—very warm—too warm for this time of year. But that’s weather in the town for ya. She pushes the gate open and steps in.
“That’s far enough for now,” says Cody, sitting on a lawn chair, one leg crossed over the other. “At least far enough for the lovely neighborhood wife Bertha Kine.”
Bertha bites her lip, fiddling with her jeans. “Y-yeah?”
“You know every well who enters this garden when she’s by herself,” he says, pushing himself up, standing up, turning to face her. His shorts are loose and they hang down, the top of his pelvis showing off, even down to the dick root. “Now say it,”
She gulps and closes her eyes, unbuttoning her pants and shimmying down out of them. “Mm…. Moooo…” she lulls.
“That’s right,” he says, licking his sharp canine teeth. “We agreed. When hubby’s away, you’re my personal breeding cow. Now, cow, dress the part.”
* * *
And so Bertha Kine sheds herself of her clothing, piece-by-piece, and stands in the window watching the whole thing with her daughter, her breath caught in her throat.
The sheer power and influence that Cody has on her mother—it’s incredible. Who is this man that he can do this? And who the fuck is Beth to be locked in, watching, and anticipating what comes next…?
A horny little slut, perhaps, is what the answer to that question would be.