Horny Day 8
Cody and Bertha get down and dirty in his yard while Beth watches.
This was written in celebration of national horny day.
Bertha gets down on her hands and knees, the depersoned cow mooing as she approaches the coyote standing tall before her, his shorts hardly able to contain the bursting erection within them. The two of them are right there in the sunlight, the warmth of this oddly hot day bearing down on them.
“That’s a good cow,” he croons, beckoning her with a taunting finger. “Get over here will you? I think I need a bit of your mouth before we give you a dose of seed.”
The mother cow opens her mouth, about to protest, but all she can manage is a grunt before he continues. “Something the matter, cow? A lowly broodcow like you has nothing to say, you know.”
She lowers her head, gripping the grass.
“But I interrupted your dinner, didn’t I?” he asks, squatting down before her, placing a hand on her head and petting her gently. “You should have something to eat before we get into all this vigorous exercise. And there ain’t nothing better for a cow like you than to be grass-fed, and look. It’s freshly mowed too. Nice and cud-like for you.”
She gulps, looking up to him, about to open her mouth again before she lowers her head.
“Wait!” the coyote responds, and she listens, her legs rubbing together. A frustrated, almost growl passes through her throat, but it is caught at the very last moment.
He turns to his chair and picks something up from it. “I almost forgot. We needs more of this,” he says, snapping a collar over her neck. Attached to that collar is a cowbell. Now, bon appetit.”
Bertha huffs and lowers herself slowly, trying not to make too much noise, but she can’t shake it, the bell clanging around as she presses her face to the freshly-cut, but not cleaned lawn. She takes a great big bite out of the wad of grass, not quite cud, but she isn’t going to complain to him. After all, she’s a cow built only for breeding, and she has to be big and strong to carry his pups.
With her face buried in the grass, the coyote looks over his shoulder, a sly smirk forming over his muzzle as he looks directly at the window where Beth watches.
Beth clutches her throat as their eyes lock, her other hand not visible—it’s beneath the window, between her legs.
He lets out a single “Heh,” before he walks around, his feet quietly crushing the wet grass, and soon his shorts fall down.
He wears nothing underneath them, having made himself comfortable for the whole ordeal, and gets down on his knees. “Keep it up. Eat all the grass in front of you,” he teases the cow as he leans in, pressing his hands to her rump. He presses his nose right up against her pussy, rubbing it with his muzzle, taking in great whiffs as he does.
“Aaah yeah, you’re extra fertile today. Fuck, how are you going to tell your kids that they’re gonna be relented to the neighbor’s kids, huh?” What will they think of their mom when she sleeps with a coyote regularly?”
Bertha groans, some of the grass falling out of her mouth, pushing her butt back, pushing his snout right up into her pussy.
He snorts and pulls back, licking over his muzzle. “Oh, but you’re quite the eager one today, leaving them all. What excuse did you give for walking over here? Guess we’ll never know,” he says, giving her rump a firm smack.
She yelps at that, but he’s quick, running around to the front to present his schlong in front of her face. He holds it by the base, staring down at her. “You had better have eaten it all, because here comes your dessert. Let me see if you’ve been a good cow.”
She gulps and opens her mouth, rolling out her tongue, presenting a mostly cleared mouth with a tongue stained green from her endeavor.
“Good enough,” the coyote says placing a hand on the back of her head and pushing her up against his engorged phallus. He rubs it over her face, rubbing her at awkward angles. Meanwhile, the cow attempts to grab at it with her lips and tongue, but she isn’t able to.
“My, you’re woefully out of practice, aren’t you? We’ll have to keep this up if you’re going to keep getting bred, aren’t we?”
Bertha moos pathetically, stopping and opening her mouth wide, keeping her tongue out “Aaah…?”
“Oh, but you are needy. Fine, fine,” he finally relents, grabbing his cock and stepping up to her, placing the head against her tongue.
The cow wraps her lips around him, swallowing the thing deep enough that her snout presses against his body. She breathes in, taking in his musky manliness.
Beth watches this, cursing herself for not getting a good whiff.
Cody rubs Bertha’s hair, sighing, and then he begins to rock, pushing his cock into her face, fucking her mouth right then and there. With two hands pressed to the back of her head, Bertha becomes a fuck toy, his cock rubbing against her tongue, slamming at her throat, making her tremble and whine and groan.
With her eyes closed, she cannot see it when he looks over his shoulders again. His impish grin widens as he locks eyes again with Beth and gives her a wink.
After all, he’s doing all this for her entertainment. As she stands there, her hand firmly between her legs, her other gripping to the windowsill for some form of balance, she can honestly say that her horniness is well and truly entertained, but not yet satisfied.