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Anyone who knew her would tell you that Carmella was a hard worker. Her daddy didn't raise no slacker. She did what she was told and didn't give no lip. Whatever her folks needed of her, whether it was cooking in the kitchen with her momma, cleaning something the house, or helping with something small in the barn, she did it, no questions asked. That didn't mean she was never lazy. During her downtime she liked to take naps underneath the oak canopy just outside the property. She liked to spend time with the milk cows in the barn and share gossip. Often she would prowl the open countryside for wild flowers. Entire afternoons would be spent plucking them from the emerald landscape, then weaving them together into a cute wreath.

And when she wasn't doing any of that, she was busy tormenting the horses.

Carmella was a big girl in just the right places, fit for showing off in the most teasing manner. She had a broad build, most notably around her thighs, hips, and shoulders. She liked to keep her long, auburn hair tied in pigtails with little bows that she draped down the front of her shoulders. Her breasts were enormous, bloating the cropped shirts she wore to an ostentatious degree. Her chest curved inwards to form her waist, then ballooned into her expansive hips. Her ass was just as big, standing on top of a pair of thighs that were like small trunks. She had a soft, round face, highlighted by plush lips. That didn't mean she wasn't built for work on the farm. Her arms were big and so were her hands. Her ass and thighs were just as much muscle as they were fluff. Years of working and healthy eating meant her luxurious frame maintained its bountiful shape.

It also meant she got the attention of the stallions who worked there, much to her entertainment. Her wardrobe hardly consisted of anything that could be considered modest, with the exception of her church clothes, of course. Her fathomless cleavage was a common sight, along with the very bottom curve of her buttocks. Cropped plaid shirts were her favorites, the kind that were too small to button in front of her bosom, thus they had to be tied into a sorely-strained knot. The denim shorts she wore were hardly more than underwear, cut so briefly that the bottom of her pockets were visible underneath the frayed pant leg. It left her muscular tummy and towering white thighs on display. Adding to her garish presentation were her cowboy boots and white cowboy hat. She looked more like a girl on a farm-themed calendar than somebody who actually worked on one.

The horses fought hard not to pay her any mind, but that proved impossible. She chatted with them often, asking how they were doing or if they needed any help. They would kindly refuse, then be forced to watch as she shrugged, turned around, then walked away with a very pronounced sway of her behind. Her time filling buckets with water at the hand pump was often spent with overly dramatic pulls and heaves on the lever, an action that made her tits jiggle wildly. If she ever started sweating, a frequent occurrence under the hot southern sun, she would wipe herself clean with a rag, making sure to get her forehead, neck, and breasts as dry as she could get them. A favorite activity of hers was fetching glasses of water for the boys while they worked, offering it to them on a platter. They always accepted, too gentlemanly to refuse and too tired to go without some refreshing water. While they enjoyed the crisp coldness slithering down their throats, they were forced to stand in the presence of Carmella. Try as they might, they couldn't stop themselves from sending the quickest of glances at her curvy figure.

She knew they were looking, but she certainly didn't mind. Men as strapping as them could look as much as they desired, she believed. Five stallions worked and lived on her daddy's farm, plowing and sowing the fields. They were each a different breed of work horse, tall, burly, and strong. The oldest and tallest of them was Jim, a Belgian Draft who had been living on the farm for a decade now. He was in his fifties, sporting a grizzled mug beset with gray. His coat was a sandy blonde, blooming into white feathering around his sleeves and calves. More than just tall, his entire body was swollen with dense, vascular muscle. His pecs were the size of infants. A big belly hung above his beltline. Carrying all of that cumbersome weight were glutes like boulders and thighs like human torsos. He was an intimidating fellow to look at, but not to chat with. Though his voice was gruff, it carried a soft southern charm that could put even the most ornery of souls at ease.

Matthew was the youngest of the five, barely into twenties. He hadn't yet lost the ring of Pomp and Circumstance in his ears. A Suffolk Punch, he wasn't as tall or as burly as the more elderly Jim, but compensated with a far more hyperactive and chipper demeanor. Even when the sweat came down his face in droves, saturating his clothes, he was often seen smiling. Jokes were his go to, rarely failing to make the fellows around him have a chuckle. His fur was red like clay. He kept his blonde hair tied into a top knot. He was much more lean than his counterparts, but that did not mean he was any less capable than them, sporting a musculature that was defined as it was strong.

Nat was a Shire Horse, black across most of his fur and white along his sleeves and shins. He was tall like Jim, albeit not as stocky. Of the five, he was the most reticent, rarely expressing any emotions beyond soft chortles and smiles. His stoic demeanor meant Carmella worked hard to get reactions out of him, no matter how subtle. Making him stare at her body or forcing a smile was always a small victory for her, like making a stone cold statue of a person laugh. At the same time, she liked to learn more about him. He was so quiet that he remained an enigma to her and the other fellows on the farm. If it meant making him laugh or giving him an erection, she wanted to be his friend.

Larry was a Percheron with a dappled gray and white coat. He was big and round, even more so than Jim. He was shorter, but with hips and shoulders broader than everyone else's. His truncated limbs were dense like rock. He had biceps like miniature boulders. Though the competition was close, he was the strongest of the five. If something, be it a dead tree stump or the back end of a tractor, Larry could move it. He was strong, but he was also smart. It was a strange and amusing sight to see his portly body sitting in the shade of a tree, glasses perched on his snout, holding a book that looked small in his ginormous hooves. He was the go to guy for knowledge as much as muscle, often spouting facts that had little to no bearing with the conversation that was going on. He was usually teased that a smart fella like him shouldn't be wasting his time on a farm with the fart smellas. To that, he simply said that he “wasn't built for school," whatever that meant.

Lastly was Willard, a Friesian whose entire body was drenched in obsidian black fur. In Carmella's personal opinion, he was the most handsome of the five, harboring a pair of soft, glassy eyes that stood brightly within his pitch face. He was of an unknown origin in Europe, speaking with a soft accent nobody could quite place. The Netherlands made the most sense, given his breed, but nobody had heard him ever speak a lick of Dutch, nor French, German, or any other language that would've been nearby, not that anybody would have recognized them. He was soft spoken like Nat, if only because his English was limited. In spite of the language barrier, he got along on the farm just fine. He recognized enough English to know what to do when he was told to do it. He treated Carmella the most kindly, greeting her at every chance with a gentlemanly “How do you do, Carmella?" She would gladly respond and ask the same, to which he would say, without fail, “Splendid."

More so than Nat, he was a mystery to be unraveled by his workmates. Asking him where he was from would just get an answer of “Europe." Where in Europe? “West Europe." Carmella had prodded him ceaselessly to no avail. He was a sweet man, but he was also a brick wall in front of a hoard of secrets. The mystery grew when Carmella saw him chatting with Skylar, one of the milk cows on the farm. Skylar was the latest addition to the milk crew, having only been there for a few months. She was Dutch, and properly built like a cow who originated there. Her breasts were like a pair of bean bags, requiring bras specially made in Europe. Her hips and ass were equally gargantuan, filling her out into a spectacular specimen of woman. That aside, she was one of the sweetest women to talk to, possessing a distinct charm thanks to her Dutch accent and kindness. Her fur was a soft gray like graphite, mottled by white across her body. Her eyes were the softest blue, accentuating what was a very young looking face. To Carmella, she was the best person to talk to out of all the cows who lived on her daddy's farm. That was saying a lot when comparing her to the other matrons Skyler shared a barn with.

So it was no surprise when Carmella saw her chatting with Willard by a fence post on the very edge of the property. It was on the crest of a small hill where the crude fence ran a circle outside of the fields, just in front of the oak tree where Carmella liked to take naps. Willard was leaning on his elbow against the post, dressed in denim jeans and a white t-shirt. He was smiling broadly, laughing on occasion. Skyler's back was to the rest of the farm, facing away from Carmella. Her fur-tipped cow tail was flicking behind her, an easy-to-spot sign of her enjoyment. Carmella was far away, but she could hear their laughter and see the white of Willard's teeth as he smiled.

She had to get a closer look. Just a few yards away from the two chatters was the hand pump, a viable excuse to get close to them. Carmella grabbed a pail and sauntered over, trying her best to seem uninterested. As she got closer, stepping on the grass with her bare feet, she could hear their voices. They weren't speaking English. She couldn't tell what language, but she was willing to bet her left foot that it was Dutch. It was her first time hearing Willard talk in another language. [i]They've gotta be from the same place,[/i] Carmella surmised.

She set the pale down on the concrete pedestal beneath the hand pump and began to crank it. The lever squeaked. A deep rumble came from beneath her feet. After two pumps, water gurgled from the spigot and rattled into the bucket. It caught the attention of Skylar and Willard, both of whom shot a glance at Carmella. They grew quiet. Carmella just kept pumping, acting like nothing was going on. [i]I'm minding my own business. You mind yours.[/i]

They did, and resumed their conversation, albeit in a more hushed tone. By the time Carmella filled the bucket, they were laughing again. They spoke a few more words Carmella couldn't decipher. She looked over at them and saw Willard shrug. Skyler's tail was flicking behind her like crazy. Her hand hooves were clasped in front of her. Her gaze was locked on the handsome horse in front of her like there was nothing else to look at. Willard cut his eyes at Carmella, who did the same to her bucket. She heard him mutter something.

Then things got quiet.

Skyler said something in return, something Carmella didn't hear. She didn't have an excuse to stay around any longer. The bucket was totally full, spilling over the edges. She grabbed the handle, then walked away, pretending that she hadn't seen or heard a single thing. With nothing to do with the water, she placed it near the entrance to the barn, in case anybody might have needed it. When she turned around, she saw that Willard and Skyler were gone. Curious, she made her way back up the hill to the post where they had been. She looked across the open field, past the oak tree and down the other side of the hill where a dirt road led into the surrounding forest. The two of them were walking down it, shoulders close together, Willard's face turned towards her, mouth moving, saying something to her. She did not look at him, instead looking ahead resolutely. The very tip of her tail was flicking itself into a blur.

Carmella couldn't help herself. She had to follow. She jumped the fence and made a brisk pace after them. She peeled off to her right, opposite of where Willard was looking. She didn't want to get caught. If they saw her while she was far away, she would simply keep going and act like she was headed somewhere else. If they caught her while she was close, she would simply tell them the truth: she saw them leave and wanted to know where they were headed, an innocent curiosity enough, she hoped.

They disappeared into the forest. A minute later she followed, leaving the open sun for a road glittered in gold filtered through the canopy above, lined down its center by a spine of grass unmolested by the wheels of traffic. Willard and Skyler were nowhere to be seen. She looked down and saw a pair of footprints in the dust. She followed it and saw it disappear straight into the woods. “What?" she asked aloud. She left the dirt road for the bordering forest. The footprints were much more dull now, nothing more than parted grass, then loose soil. She stepped around the discarded twigs cautiously, trying not to prick her bare feet. Her head was turned down, focused solely on the pair of tracks before her. She didn't bother with the many trees around her, focused entirely on finding her two friends.

Then, she heard them. It was faint, like a whisper or a huff. Carmella's foot was in mid-stride, ready to fall on the crisp Earth when the sound found her ears. She froze, wobbling on one foot and nearly toppling over. She stopped herself from falling on her butt, then listened more closely. She scanned the trees around her. Was that a voice? Or was her mind playing tricks on her? She twisted her head, aiming her ear at where she thought it came from.

“Uhhh…"

Yes. There it was again. A voice, for sure. It was Skyler's. Less anxious about hurting her feet, Carmella continued on. She scowled her eyes on the forest in front of her, looking for Skyler's big, round body or Willard's onyx profile. Finally, she saw them, together, against what looked like a very large tree. She didn't have a direct line of sight thanks to the many trees in front of her, but it was enough to make out their very distinct profiles. Carmella, leaning her torso to get a better look, continued forward. What were they doing? Maybe if she-

Carmella gasped sharply. With as much stealth and speed as she could muster, she hopped on the very tips of her toes to the nearest tree. She slammed her back into the tree's trunk, hand clasped over her mouth, heart beating painfully in her chest. [i]Fuck! Fuck! Oh shit! Did they see me?[/i] Her widened eyes peered over to her left. She listened closely. There was no indication that they had seen or heard her. The two of them went on with their activities merrily, like there was nothing else to do in the world.

They were making out, and Skyler's top was totally gone. Skyler's back was to a tree. Her overalls were undone. The shoulder straps dangled down to her shin. Her blouse was discarded to the Earth like a wet rag, sprinkled with dirt. Her leviathan bosom was like an entirely different entity, thrusted before her like some gatekeeper to hold back the very promiscuous horse in front of her. Of course, that did nothing to stop Willard whose mouth was very firmly planted on hers. His shirt was gone too. His jeans were already halfway done crumpling their way down his muscular legs. His boxers were a bloody shade of red that seemed blinding in Carmella's eyes, even for the brief moment she saw them. His hooves were squeezing Skyler's ass. Even from behind the tree, Carmella could hear the very dedicated smack of their lips.

There was a crisp suction sound, followed by a relieved sigh. Willard said something in Dutch. His voice was deep and airy, a tone Carmella had never considered he was capable of. Skyler responded. She sounded desperate and needy, no doubt a result of her arousal. Carmella was beginning to feel the same. With her cheeks beginning to burn red, a certain ache was forming deep inside of her loins. She clenched her thighs together and fought it back. [i]Now's not the time or place.[/i]

That proved false as she heard the two lovers resume their makeout session. Skyler murred and moaned. Their mouths parted so that she could say something to him. Carmella didn't know what she said, but the meaning was clear. [i]You gotta fuck me.[/i] Willard said something back, also getting the message across. [i]You got it.[/i] There was a shuffling of feet, followed by silence, then some soft moaning. Carmella's grip on her mouth tightened and the heat in her cheeks intensified. [i]I should go.[/i] But how? Leaving would risk them hearing her. She had barely gotten there without getting detected in the first place. She couldn't stay either. She was against the tree on the side where they had come from. They would see her on the way out.

And then there was curiosity. She wanted to see. The arousal brought on by Skyler's moaning had her on fire, both on her blushing face and in her pussy. That couldn't be ignored, and she had the feeling that she would regret never getting a look, like missing some historical event. She carefully turned around. She hadn't noticed until now, but the tree she was hiding behind was double-trunked, forming a colossal V. The crotch of the two trunks was right above her line of sight, requiring her to lift on her tippy toes to see through.

There they were, right where she had last seen them. Skyler was facing the tree, leaning against the trunk. She was completely naked now; her overalls and underwear were slumped around her ankles. She was bent over, aiming her leviathan ass at Willard, who was equally nude. He was massaging her flanks, admiring the way her haunches and thighs sank and whispered beneath the glide of his hooves. He pulled one ass cheek apart from the other, then let go to watch it jiggle. He was smiling from ear to ear. He liked what he saw.

Carmella did too, but not because of Skyler. Grabbing her attention like the inevitable pull of a black hole was Willard's horse cock, currently laid on Skyler's ass crack. It was a shade of black even darker than his fur, looking like a pillar of solid ink that had laid claim to Skyler's backside. Even more astonishing was its size, somehow managing to look big even when held up against such a gigantic posterior. Carmella's breath caught in her throat at the sight of it. The excitement brewing between her legs intensified. Caution begged her to look away, but pure fascination and a burgeoning lust kept her locked in place. She had to see him in action. She had to see what that magnificent pillar could do.

Willard demonstrated. He pulled back and let his dick fall from her ass. He shoved his hooves into her cushiony buttocks and parted them, laying eyes on her dripping cunt and bloated pink donut. Holding her ass cheeks open, he pushed his hips forward, awkwardly colliding the head of his staff with her pussy.

“Uhhh…" sighed Skyler. She pushed back on him, penetrating herself. Another moan escaped her, then continued as he let go of her ass, grabbed her hips, then slid the rest of the way down into her squelching flower. “[i]Uhhhh… Ja… Das is het…[/i]" His hips smushed into her buttocks, flattening them. He gripped her hips tightly, clamping her where she was. He lurched his head back and sighed through his nose, flaring his nostrils.

And then he began to fuck her. He didn't bother going slow or timidly, opting for an ass-slapping assault that echoed through the trees around them. Skyler's voice was the loudest. She whimpered and groaned like there was nobody listening, oblivious of the woman watching from between the double-trunks nearby. Carmella didn't blame her. Willard's cock was powerful as it was large. That black piston vanished into her with almost disturbing ease. It was shocking to see the kind and gentlemanly Willard fuck so brutally, as was hearing Skyler's motherly voice be reduced into gurgling shouts and screams.

It was too much for Carmella. Without much thought or choice, she slid her fingers down to her crotch and opened her fly. Her fingers slid into her hot and moist panties. They slid down between her thighs and started rubbing her cunt. A sigh escaped her. She bit her lip as her middle finger twirled itself into a tiny circle around her clit. Her breath stuttered in her chest. She kept her face pressed into the gap in the tree, staring hard. She could hardly choose where to focus, be it on Willard's thrusting penis, his clenching buttocks and cocked tail, Skylar's wobbling ass, or the contorted expression of joy on her face.

Through the shouting moans she managed to say something. Each syllable was broken apart by the slam of Willard's pelvis. Willard growled something in response. His nostrils flared. Something like a whiney grunt came out of him. Carmella's eyes went wide. Oh my God. He's close. He's going to cum. Judging by the escalation in Skyler's pitch, so was she. It was just a handful of devastating, jilted thrusts from that point on and Willard came. His head threw back, whipping his majestic black mane. His rocky glutes dimpled into a mighty clench. Skyler's ass squished in front of his pelvis. He groaned through his teeth which were dug into his bottom lip. “[i]HHHHHNNNNNGGGHFFFFFFFFFHHH~!!![/i]"

The impact of his orgasm hit Carmella hard, but not nearly as hard as it did Skyler. Her voluptuous body was thrown into an epic spasm as her own climax, forcefully brought on by his, shredded through her muscles. A very ugly moan ripped out of her mouth, originating from the very depths of her chest and throat. Her cunt squeezed Willard's cock, milking it for every last drop of potent seed he had in him. He delivered it dutifully, flexing every muscle throughout his manhood so that her womb could feel his equine flood. It left the two of them panting and moaning hard. Willard stepped back, pulling his cock free from her and letting it slump downwards. There was an awful squelching sound as his cum gurgled free of her gaping vulva then fell to the forest floor. Willard chuckled and said something in Dutch. Skyler murred and wagged her very satisfied backside. She responded, apparently agreeing with him.

Carmella wasn't there to offer a third opinion. She was already gone. The shock of their mutual climaxes was enough to knock her out of her trance and make her realize what she was doing. She hastily zipped her fly up and skedaddled while Willard and Skyler's voice were still announcing their orgasms. Carmella ran out the forest, up the road, then through the fence onto her daddy's property. She made a beeline for the house and barged inside, not caring if anybody heard or saw her. She climbed the stairs to her room, feet thumping, made it to her door, opened it, then slammed it behind her with her back pressed against it.

She didn't make it any further than that. She tore at her fly, opening it so abruptly that it nearly ripped at the seam. Her shorts weren't even halfway down her thighs before she started fingering herself violently. “[i]Oh God… Oh God… Oh fuck…[/i]" Her back bumped into the door, rattling it. Her legs opened on their own, sliding her feet against the hardwood floor, shaking like mad. The denim of her shorts bounced and danced around her flexing hand. She hooked and swung her finger into her cunt with wild abandon. Her voice echoed loudly, uncaring of any potential listeners, just like Skyler before her.

What she had just witnessed flashed through her mind. She saw Willard's cock, his masculine fruit, his flexing muscles. Skyler was there only briefly before being replaced by Carmella herself. She felt the awesome brunt of his penis, electrifying every sweet spot inside of her. Soon Willard was replaced too, first by Jim. Then it was Nat, then Larry, then Matthew, then back to Willard. They took her in every position she could imagine, defiling her with their epic horse cocks, flooding her chalice and painting her chest with their seed. She pleased them in every way she could, utilizing her hands, mouth, pussy, and tits.

Then she came. It hit her with such force that her body slammed backwards into the door again. Her mouth flew open into an O. Shrill gasps made her jaw stutter. Her juicy thighs quaked and her toes curled. Liquid love gushed from her cunt, dousing her still-thrashing fingers. It seemed to last forever, until sadly it had to come to an end. Her eyes shot open. She felt like she was in shock, witnessing it all from outside of her body. The bliss died down slowly, and she pried her fingers from out of her crotch. They were smeared in a thickish coating of cum, reeking of sex. She blushed hard, somewhat ashamed, but equally invigorated. Her heart was pounding away in her chest. She felt lightheaded. She had to sit down. With her shorts undone around her waist she staggered over to her bed and sat on it. She hoped nobody had heard that, most of all her daddy. What would he think? What would Willard or Skyler think? What would the other horses think? Her mind flashed back to Willard's cock. [i]So big…[/i] She had assumed the other horses were like that too. Were they really?

She laid back on her bed and wiggled out of her shorts. She opened her legs and began fingering herself again. After a few minutes of running her imagination wild, she came again. Just like that, it was official. Her curiosity had to be satiated. She had to know. She had to see.

She had to get fucked.