Breeding Season at the Rocking R Ranch - Version Charlie
Chapters : 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6
Author's Comment: This story is written in three versions. This is version Charlie. While there are similarities and shared text between the stories, they have been written to appeal to specific (different) tastes. While all the versions are coded, the main theme of each version is presented here to assist you in choosing which version you wish to read:
Version Alpha: Incest between the boys and their mothers.
Version Bravo: Incest between the boys and their sisters. Sex between in-laws.
Version Charlie: More or less a free-for-all of incest between just about everybody, with a little husband sharing thrown in for spice.
Caution: This is not a story about beastiality, per se. However, since this is a story that involves horse breeding, there are elements of light beastiality which are necessary for the plot to develop. As a point of interest, the description of hand breeding is factual and was provided by a reader I'll just call Charles. His description led to this story.
Bobby turned his head for possibly the thousandth time and gazed out the window of the car as it sped through miles and miles of ... miles and miles. He had grown bored with the flat topped little mountains and piles of house-sized boulders an hour ago. He'd counted more cows than he cared to, even though he wanted to stay ahead of his sister, who was counting things on the other side of the car, competing with him. They counted everything in their friendly competition. Windmills, power pylons on high tension lines, silos, parked motorcycles, even old time water pumps. Basically anything that was repetitive could be counted and claimed. Mom, in the front seat, had a pad of paper she kept scores on, so nobody could cheat. She mechanically added lines beside the appropriate title, making groups of four lines with a slash through them to represent five. She'd gotten so good at it that she could carry on a conversation with her husband and never miss a beat.
He sighed. He was bored, but that was the only way they had to pass the time when they were on trips. Especially when they were going to his Aunt Diedre's ranch in Wyoming. He remembered the last few times they'd driven up there, but only parts of each visit. They'd gone when he was ten and his sister, Megan was nine. He remembered that time because his Uncle Tom had taught him to shoot the .22 rifle. That was a high point of his life. Then they'd gone again when he was thirteen. He remembered that time because he got to ride the horses and ...
He closed his eyes, remembering back to that night when he got back from a trail ride having to pee so bad that he was about to go in his pants. He was a city boy, though, and couldn't bring himself to just haul it out and let fly on the ground, like other men on the ranch did. So he had dashed for the bathroom, slamming through the closed door, pulling his zipper down. His cock was hard from holding it in and he pulled it through the open zipper just as he realized he wasn't alone in the bathroom.
Aunt Dee was there.
She had just stepped out of the shower and was reaching for a towel to dry off her dripping ... naked ... luscious ... womanly ... soft ... pale body. He remembered how brown her nipples had looked, sitting on those big soft looking breasts. He remembered her wide green eyes and the way her mouth went into an "o" as she looked at what was in his hand. He remembered his eyes dropping to where he expected to see golden hair, like the honey colored tresses on her head, and how there was nothing there but skin. And something else that hung down between her thighs.
At thirteen he knew what he was looking at, and if he hadn't had a piss boner he would have sprouted a regular one anyway.
He couldn't remember the sobbing explanation he made, or what she'd said to him, exactly. All he remembered was being unable to get a stream of urine started because he was hard as a rock, and the pain in his bladder making him almost ill. Aunt Dee had wrapped a towel around her amazing body, kissed him on the cheek and said "I'll just leave you alone to deal with your ... problem." Then she'd kissed him on the cheek again, which did nothing whatsoever to soften the rock that was currently his prick. He did remember he'd had to sit down, like a girl, to pee.
That was what he remembered about the last time they'd been to the ranch. Now he was seventeen, and a foot and a half taller, with broad swimmer's shoulders and curly dark hair. He glanced at his sister. He always thought of Megan when he thought about his Aunt, because she looked like a younger copy of the woman. His mother too sometimes. Cathy and Diedre were known as "The Miller twins" when they were growing, even though Cathy was a year older than Dee. And Megan looked just like the pictures of her mother and aunt when they were her age. She had the same hair, the same high cheekbones and even, in a lot of ways, the same temperament. He didn't know about the hair between her legs. Try as he might, he'd never been able to get a glimpse of that part of his sister.
He'd seen her tits, though. She wasn't shy about walking around in just panties, though she always wore at least those. And, at sixteen, her body had flowered into something most men would drool over. She wasn't shy in other ways either, having more self confidence that seemed either fair or legal. One of the things she wasn't shy about was ogling the lump in the front of the white briefs Bobby wore around the house.
Megan had a reputation as a tease at school. Bobby had never had to "protect" her. If a guy started getting pushy she used her Karate skills to cool him down. She knew enough pressure points that she usually didn't have to hit them. And if a guy was stupid enough to claim he'd crawled between her legs ... well, she was a popular girl and she knew all the other popular girls. More than one guy had gone through a long dry spell because Megan whispered that he had herpes, or genital warts, or whatever.
She didn't act like a little sister around him. She acted like a girl, about his own age, maybe a neighbor girl who had grown up next door to him, and had shared all her secrets. They were very comfortable around each other.
Unfortunately, that made her sexy, to his way of thinking.
She was looking out the other window, counting a herd of ... Buffalo of all things! She was wearing a tank top, without a bra. He could see where her adolescent nipples poked through the thin yellow cotton that covered them. Their mother was constantly trying to get her daughter to wear bras, but Megan resisted. She wore them to school, and on dates, but that was it.
As if she had radar or something Megan turned her hazel eyes toward him. She saw where he was looking before he could avert his own eyes.
"If you're counting those I'm going to win for sure," she said, not all that softly.
Bobby blushed. Why did she have the power to unsettle him every single time? He saw her eyes go to his lap.
"I've got one!" she yelled, her eyes leaving no doubt whatsoever that she was counting ... boners.
"One what?" asked Cathy, turning her head partway around, pencil poised over the paper, ready to make a tick mark.
Megan giggled. "One ... what do you call them? Those thingies that have ... milk in them, and you have to grip the long rod and move it up and down, and it makes ... butter?"
Cathy turned her head farther. "Butter churn? You saw a butter churn? Where in the world did you see one of those?"
Bobby looked down at the "rod" his sister had been talking about gripping. His gym shorts were poked out at least six inches and it was obvious he had a major hardon. In panic he grabbed the pillow between him and Megan and pulled it onto his lap.
"Oh, it was on a sign. For a dairy or something. Don't those count?" she asked innocently.
Cathy turned her head further, looking into the back seat. She knew her daughter, and that tone of voice meant she was teasing her brother. Both of them were just sitting there, though, and there was no clue as to what the teasing was about. Except that Bobby was beet red in the face.
"I don't think signs count." she said.
"Oh," said Megan, smiling at her brother. "They should. It made me all hungry ... you know, the thought of all that cream, and making it come out ..." she was grinning at her brother now, making the up and down classic gestures with her closed fist that any boy recognized instantly, "... as butter," she finished, giggling again.
Bobby reached out and slapped her arm. Just as his mother looked back, of course.
"What's going on back there?" demanded Cathy. "Bobby you know better than to hit your sister. Now, kiss and make up."
That was how their parents had handled sibling rivalry as they grew up. If the two kids got in a fight they were made to kiss and make up. When they were little that worked wonders, as neither child wanted anything to do with kissing the other. But their attitudes had changed just a little in the last three or four years. For Megan, it was a chance to practice kissing a boy without having to worry about making him stop afterwards, which appealed to her sense of exploration. For Bobby, all he had to do was look at Megan's green eyes and wheat colored hair and then close his eyes and pretend he was kissing Aunt Dee.
It had made for some interesting "punishment".
Bobby automatically leaned toward his sister, who leaned toward him. When their lips touched her tongue darted out and drilled its way between his lips, pressing into his mouth. He jerked back in surprise as Megan laughed out loud.
Cathy turned her head, thinking that her daughter was laughing because Bobby was embarrassed. "Maybe that will teach you not to hit your sister," she said, and turned back around.
To Bobby's disgust, Megan's hand flashed out and slapped his arm with a loud *SMACK*. Then she grabbed her own arm and yelled "Ow! Bobby!"
Bobby was outraged and started to protest his innocence as his mother's stony face turned to the back seat once more.
Rudy put a restraining hand on his wife's thigh. "That was Megan hitting Bobby. I saw it in the rear view mirror." His eyes bored into Megan's in that same mirror. "Nice try, but you're busted." He grinned. "Slave duty for two days. One day for hitting your brother and another for trying to set him up for failure."
That was the other way they were disciplined. If they did something really bad they had to do whatever the other family members told them to do for the specified period of time. Megan groaned. She knew her brother would keep her hopping and this was going to be at the ranch, where she'd planned on riding the horses and getting a suntan in her new string bikini. She scowled at Bobby, as if it was all his fault. Now it was his turn to grin.
He made sure his mother wasn't looking and did the same thing Megan had done, making a fist and moving it up and down over the pillow on his lap. Then he pointed at her and grinned, pointing back at his crotch.
"I saw that too," announced his father. Damn! He'd forgotten to check the rear view mirror. His dad spoke again. "That's one day of slave duty for you Bobby, after Megan has finished hers ... for taunting." It was obvious that he had seen Megan making the same motion earlier. Neither of the kids thought to question why she wasn't punished for that too.
Bobby scowled now. That meant he'd have to moderate his treatment of Megan, because, when it came to Megan, payback was a mother, and she'd have the perfect chance for payback when her period of slavery was up, and his began.
The rest of the trip was made in silence. Cathy was able to take a nap because neither of the kids felt like counting anything.
Two hours later they arrived at the big gate of the ranch. Bobby had always liked the gate, which had two tall poles on either side, with an arching metal sign between them. It had a big "R" on it with what Bobby had thought was a smile underneath when he was little. He always smiled when he went under that arch, like the smile under the R, because that meant he'd get to see his beautiful aunt.
They turned up the long, straight dusty road that led from the blacktop to the house, with its attending barns, sheds and trees. The house was set back into a hillside that was covered with trees, and looked cool and inviting after all the dust and barren looking wastes they'd driven through. Everyone was ready to be out of the car, so they could stretch and ease tight muscles.
Bobby stared toward the porch. There were two women waiting for them. One was his Aunt Dee. She was tanned and muscular from all the work and riding she did. She had on a worn and faded baseball cap that had a National Rifle Association emblem on it. Her usual pony tail hung through the back of the cap and dangled almost to her waist. Bobby sighed. She was the kind of woman who, when she walked in a room, got the attention of the men ... and probably some of the women too, if they swung that way. She was just a ball of walking, talking sex. And the funny part was that she didn't seem to have any idea what effect she had on men OR women.
The other woman was perhaps a little taller than his aunt. He peered closer and was astonished to recognize the second woman as his cousin, Molly. While they'd been friends when they were little, he hadn't spent much time with her in years. The last time he was at the ranch she was gone to summer camp somewhere.
Molly looked as different from her mother as Megan looked similar to her aunt. Molly had long straight black hair that a lot of Hawaiian women have, with that almost blue sheen to it. She was deeply tanned and looked exotic. But she too had the green eyes that were so common in the females of the Miller clan. She was almost painfully slim, except for her breasts, which stuck out like a Barbie Doll's breasts, out of proportion to the rest of her body. Bobby thought she looked like some fairy princess brought to life out of the swords and sorcery books he liked to read. She was a year older than him, though, and, to his High School trained mind, was "not available" because she was older. Girls like her just weren't interested in boys younger than themselves.
Bobby stared at her healthy, firm breasts and felt his dick begin to stiffen. It didn't see her as unavailable at all.
His mother and Aunt Dee were hugging and squealing about how happy they were to see each other. He turned away to help unload the car. His father looked at him surprised. "I figured you'd go say hi and make Megan do this," he said curtly.
"Um ... it's OK," said Bobby, unable to explain the real reason he wasn't hugging his aunt and cousin with the rest of the family.
Rudy wasn't stupid. He had the same reaction to seeing his beautiful sister-in-law and her daughter as any other man would have, and he knew his son was a man. At least in many ways. "Don't sweat it." he said, handing Bobby a box that he could hold over his crotch. "You're normal. They're both babes. Molly sure has grown up in the last few years." He winked at his astonished son and grabbed a suitcase, which he held covering HIS lap.
If they thought the women would all go inside, leaving the men to ferry things into the house, during which time their erections could go down, they were mistaken. Diedre stood, hands on hips, one leg cocked, with the toe pointing out.
"You boys can carry that stuff in later. I need hugs here!" she demanded.
Bobby tried to get away with just leaning in for a kiss, but Dee took the box from his hands and set it on the porch railing next to her. She pressed her soft womanly body against him and kissed him soundly on the lips. Her eyes popped open and stared into his as she felt his hard cock pressing against her mons. "My my, have you ever grown up!" she said, grinning. Then she dropped her arms and turned to her brother-in-law.
"Rudy, are you ever a sight for sore eyes!" she said. Rudy dropped the suitcase on the porch and took his sister-in-law into a bear hug. Not only did he let her feel his arousal, he pressed it into her crotch, squeezing her and crushing her breasts against his chest. He gave her a long kiss on the lips. She had met him on a blind date and been so effusive about his qualities that Cathy started going out with him too. He and Dee had never done more than some adolescent groping, but both had enjoyed that and had always been comfortable with each other physically.
"That goes for me too," he said, as he let go of his breathless sister-in-law.
Bobby watched, his eyes getting bigger and bigger as his aunt dropped her hands to his father's hips and pulled them against her lower body. His mother was standing right there, watching her husband crushing her sister's body to his and didn't say a word! He couldn't believe what he was seeing and he got even harder. He grabbed the box and turned toward the front door of the house only to run into Molly. She was staring at him.
"You must be Bobby," she said. Her voice had a melodious alto timbre to it. "Hi," she added shyly.
"Um ... yeah, Hi," he said, blushing.
"Mom talks about you sometimes," said his cousin. She didn't add anything to that, and curiosity ate at Bobby.
"Oh," he said, suddenly shy too. This gorgeous creature was actually talking to him and it made him squirm. "Maybe you could tell me about that sometime," he ventured.
Her smile made his balls get tight. "Sure thing. Maybe after you guys get settled in."
Then it was tote that barge and lift that bale for the two men, who moved in enough belongings stashed in the station wagon and trailer to keep them going for the two months they planned on staying.
Bobby had gotten to read the letter from his Aunt that had arrived several months ago. Uncle Tom had been elected as State Representative for the Wyoming District at Large, and was going to have to spend a lot of time in Washington D.C. The biggest problem with that was that he'd be gone during the time of year they bred most of their prize horses. The ranch raised prize winning Quarter horses and Arabians, and the proceeds from the sales of these horses, along with the breeding program, were the primary income of the whole operation. They also had cattle and some goats, but those were mostly for feeding the family and trading to Mexican migrant workers, who loved to eat goat more than any other kind of meat.
In their valley hideaway, surrounded by high hills and part of the Rockies, they had all kinds of weather and were able to raise crops as well as animals. Hired help dealt with all the crops and stock, except the horses. Only the Brooks family handled them. Chance, their eldest son, had gone off to college and had gotten an internship, so he couldn't be there. Tom was in Washington. That left only Dee and Molly, and the operation needed more than just the two of them. So the Tanner family was asked to come and spend two months, to help during breeding season.
Rudy ran his own business, so he could take time off. He couldn't stay the whole two months, but was able to take the time to drive them all up to Wyoming and get them started. Then he'd return home for a while. He thought he could probably afford to come back up every third week if things worked out like he hoped they would. Cathy worked at home, keeping the books for the business, but Rudy could cover that too, since there wouldn't be a family to spend time with. So there was no problem picking up the whole family and traipsing off to Wyoming.
The rest of the day and that night they sat around catching up on years gone by. Molly took Bobby and Megan on a tour of the immediate environs, showing them the stalls, where the milk cow was kept, the breeding pens, hay and alfalfa storage areas, oat bins and so on.
Bobby couldn't keep his eyes off his beautiful cousin. She was wearing a man's short sleeve shirt with the top three buttons undone and the tails tied below her breasts. Her midriff was bare above pale blue jeans shorts that were so worn they looked like they might actually fall to pieces at any second. She had tennis shoes on her feet with socks that came just to the tops of the shoes. Her long black hair was tied back in a pony tail that hung to her shoulder blades.
Megan had taken her suitcase to Molly's bedroom and had changed into a tube top that hugged her precious teen breasts like two gentle hands and did nothing whatsoever to conceal her nipples. She had on a pair of white cotton shorts and flip flops, which were giving her fits as she tried to pick her way through the hay and ... other things ... on the ground. She did a lot of jumping from one place to the other, and her breasts bounced beautifully.
All in all, Bobby was getting eye strain from watching the two gorgeous girls. He had changed into jeans, primarily because he could put his cock down the leg of those and it was under better control. It was uncomfortable, though, when it tried to stiffen, which it did all through the tour. He was looking forward to being alone in bed so he could jack his prick until it spurted all his growing lust out into a tissue or something.
He was disconcerted when during dinner, his Aunt apologized and said "Bobby, honey, I didn't have time to clean out Chance's old bedroom. So we put up his bed in Molly's room. The girls will have to share a bed and you can have the other one. Is that OK?"
The look on Bobby's face as he realized he would not be able to release the pain in his scrotum must have been something to see. His Aunt sighed. "I'm really sorry Bobby. Honest, I just didn't have a chance. We'll make that the first thing we do when we get a chance, OK? We got the guest bedroom cleaned out, but your mother is staying in there. We just don't have any other places for people to bunk down. It won't be so bad, I promise."
Cathy's eyebrows rose as she heard the comments about the sleeping arrangements. She looked at Rudy, who shrugged his shoulders.
Cathy leaned over and whispered in Dee's ear. "Are you sure it's a good idea? I mean putting a seventeen year old boy with your daughter?"
Diedre smiled and whispered back. "They haven't seen each other for years. What could they possibly do with Megan there? Besides, girls nowadays aren't as curious about sex as you and I were." She grinned at her sister. "It'll be fine, I'm sure."
And so it was that, when Bobby went to bed that night, he was treated to the sight of two very beautiful young women, wearing the scantiest of nightwear, most of which was almost see-through, as they brushed their hair and chatted about all the things that young girls chat about.
Bobby got up and went to the bathroom, where, as he beat his meat furiously, he tried to hit the water in the stool. He missed with four strong spurts of his teenage spooge as it blasted out of the tip of his prick, and he had to use a handful of toilet paper to clean things up.
The next morning Rudy stayed for breakfast and then drove off, waving out the window and yelling that he'd be back. At breakfast Dee got all businesslike and started handing out assignments. Molly and Megan would take the farm truck to Farson, the nearest town, and get supplies. There was a lot of shopping to do for a long list of things, and that would take the girls all day to finish.
Cathy spoke up. "Would it be OK for me to spend some time in the kitchen? I've been wanting to try some new recipies and do some baking, and we could freeze some things for quick meals in the future."
Dee agreed and she turned to Bobby. "Do you think you can handle horses?"
"I don't know," said Bobby, thrilled at the idea of working with horses. "What would I have to do?"
"Well, you'd be going to get them out of their stalls and bringing them to the breeding pen. Then there are some things that need to be done before we let them get together. After they breed, then you'll help take them back to their stalls. Sometimes the stallions get a little frisky when they smell the mares, but I think you can do it. You're a strapping young man. I can't believe how much you've grown since you were here last."
"Sure, I guess I can do that," he said.
"OK then, that will be your job. I used to help Tom, and once you get the hang of it, it will be easy."
After breakfast Dee took Bobby to the barns. Mares had their own barn, as did the males. She showed him the lists that had been prepared, showing which stallions would be mated to each mare. There were both names and numbers on the list and she showed him how the stalls were numbered. She and Molly had already put the horses in their assigned stalls that would be processed that day.
Bobby's part of the operation was a no brainer, really. All he had to do was control horses of one sex or another, and there were tricks he could use that helped him do his job. Like covering the eyes of the stallion so he couldn't see anything. He could still smell the mare, and that excited him, but he didn't know where to try to get to, so he just stood there ... horny, so to speak.
Watching his Aunt do her part was ... well, he really didn't know the word for what it was. If he'd have had to describe it so someone (and he would have to ... many times in the years to come) he'd have just told you what she did and you could imagine it.
First they brought in the mare they were going to breed and hobbled her, putting her in a chute that surrounded the front two thirds of her body. That left her hindquarters exposed. Then Bobby brought in one of the three stallions Dee had chosen to breed this particular mare and held his head while Aunt Dee 'prepped' him.
She had a little three legged stool that was usually used for milking the cow, and a bucket with a mild disinfectant in it, mixed in water. She had rubber gloves, but she only used them once and then they stayed in her back pocket for the rest of the day. In the days to follow he never saw them again.
But I'm getting ahead of the story.
The stallion, having already smelled the mare was ready to go. Guys are like that. When we think about sex we're ... just ready to go. So his penis was erect and extending from its sheath a foot and a half or so. The skin of a horse's penis has pigment in it just like the skin under his hair, so a penis could be all one color, or mottled. According to Dee they felt like velvet and were hard as a rock.
But we're getting ahead of the story yet again.
Thoroughbreds are valuable animals, and people brought their prize mares from all over to get them bred to one of the Brooks studs. They expected to get a pregnant mare back, with no side effects from the breeding. The Brooks ranch preferred to do what was called "Hand Breeding", which gave the breeders more control over the process. Any errant bacteria might cause a problem. You don't want that, so Dee's job was to wash down the stallion's penis with the disinfectant and clean him before he was allowed to enter the mare.
Aunt Dee explained that Tom had always done this part in the past, while she held the horse's head. But she knew the theory of prepping a stud.
Now how you do that is to grasp the penis with one hand and get it nice and wet with a soaked rag from the bucket. Then you sort of squeegee off the fluid. The hands, circled around the erect penis, make a perfect squeegee. That squeegee/stroking action also had the effect of making sure the stallion was completely hard, so when he mounted the mare everything went well.
So, all things considered, Bobby watched his aunt jacking off the stallions.
Oh sure, it only took one swipe from the base to the tip to effectively get all the extra disinfectant off the stallion's penis. And that's what happened with the first few mares they processed. She'd sterilize the stallion's penis and then stand back and let nature take its course.
Have you ever watched horses mating? If not then you should arrange to see that some time. It's something you'll never forget. That huge muscular male jumps with his front legs like he doesn't weigh a thing, and cozies up to the mare's rear. If she's ready, she moves her tail and, just like that, two feet of hard cock slide into her. A couple of three humps and it's over. Talk about your premature ejaculation. A horse could never satisfy a woman, because he'd never last long enough.
But it's an awfully erotic thing to watch.
And, after four mares, Bobby noticed that his Aunt started taking two or three swipes with her hands, instead of just one. And she slid her hands the wrong way a couple of times.
It was hot, and she was sweating freely. Her light cotton shirt was a kind of ivory color, and was so soaked that it was translucent. When she stood up to let the stallion mount mare number four, Bobby got an eyeful of her dark nipples through the shirt. His prick bloomed into erection. It was painful because his jeans didn't give it any room to move. It just balled up under the cloth and made it look like he had some horrible growth on the front of his crotch or something.
He was staring at her luscious tits, and licking his lips when he glanced up and saw her watching him ... watching her.
Bobby brought in the sixth stallion, a big quarter horse that was restive and excited even before Bobby brought him into the breeding pen. He had to cover the big horse's eyes to calm him down. Bobby held his head as Aunt Dee got under him and started in.
Dee was breathing fast, like she'd just run somewhere or something, and this time her hands just kept moving along that stallion's long hard penis. Her breathing got ragged. She was really squeezing that thing too, and the horse started to dance a little. She seemed to be in a kind of dream-like state, unaware of what was going on around her. Bobby had visions of her being stomped and was about to yell at her when, all of a sudden, there was this fire-hose kind of event from under the horse. She'd jerked that eighteen inch prick one too many times, and it was pointed right at her when it went off.
One thing Bobby learned that day was that horses produce a lot of semen when they ejaculate. Now the term "a lot" is relative in many ways. "A lot" of clothing might be the three shirts you wear, one on top of the other, in the winter time to keep warm. That's "a lot" of clothing. And if you sat down to a chicken dinner and somebody served you a whole chicken, that's "a lot" of chicken. And a virile man might produce "a lot" of semen when he ejaculates, and that might be three quarters of an ounce. In the real world, that's "a lot" of semen.
Human semen, anyway.
Horses produce amounts of semen that are proportionally larger than their penises are to human penises. To follow the same analogies, if horse semen were clothing, you'd be so warmly dressed you wouldn't be able to move. And if it were chicken ... Well, it wouldn't even BE chicken. We're talking more like Ostrich. That's why Bobby thought of it as a "fire-hose" type of event.
She got hit so hard she leaned back on that little three legged stool, and horse goo splashed just every-fucking-where. I mean it was like there was somebody under there with one of those 'Super-Jumbo-two-gallon-backpack-mounted-summertime-for use only in the pool-squirt-cannons' and they had just water-cannoned her but good. She was soaked. It hit her right about at the top button of her shirt, but it got her face, her hair, her blouse, her arms and the legs of Bobby's jeans just soaked.
She spluttered and her arms waved and she fell backwards off the stool onto the hay, like she was having a seizure or something and the horse - and Bobby would swear to his dying day this was true - the horse let out a big long sigh and relaxed all of a sudden. It stepped sideways and suddenly his aunt was under the horse.
Then round two rocketed out. It sort of drifted on the wind for a split second, a long thumb-thick line of mostly clear looking fluid that hung, suspended above his aunt, who was lying on her back on the hay, her jeans-clad legs spread and up off the ground, like she was waiting for her lover but had forgotten to take off her pants.
Then that stream of fluid descended and the crotch of those jeans turned dark as they were soaked too. In a line from crotch to chin that second shot splashed on her already soaked body.
It was eerily quiet. Aunt Dee went limp as a sock full of marbles. Bobby looked down at his semen-splattered legs. He pushed the stallion away from his aunt, afraid she'd be stepped on and then bent over his her to see if she was OK - you know, breathing and stuff. Her eyes opened and she looked at him, upside down.
Then, in the most normal voice you could even imagine, she said "Damn. I guess we'll have to let him charge again before we can breed her."
"Are you OK?" Bobby asked.
"You need a shower" she said, still looking at him upside down.
"I need a shower." she added.
She sat up with his help and looked around, sort of dazed. "We need a shower." she said. "Come on, there's a shower in the bunkhouse."
Then she pulled him toward the door of the barn.
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