Breeding Season at the Rocking R Ranch - Version Alpha
Chapters : 1 | 2 | 3 | 4
Author's Comment: This story is written in three versions. This is version Alpha. While there are similarities and shared text between the stories, they have been written to appeal to specific (different) tastes. All the versions are coded, but 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 bestiality, per se. However, since this is a story that involves horse breeding, there are elements of light bestiality 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 of an event in his life 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 and his mother, who was driving, had talked about anything and everything on the long trip, but they had been quiet for a while now, about talked out. Bobby, however, kept looking at her, because she was easy on the eyes.
He found it a little crazy that he thought his mother was sexy. Like any normal boy he had a few well-thumbed Playboys, some with a few pages stuck together, and he was quite familiar with Victoria's Secret catalogues and the like.
But his mother, with her long brown hair, and arching eyebrows, and baby blue eyes put most of those models to shame in his own mind. And her breasts ...
Her breasts just about drove him crazy. They were big, and soft and she pressed them against him all the time when she hugged him. She hugged him a lot. His mother was always hugging him and calling him her "little man". Like when he got home from school she'd say, "How was my little man's day at school?" and hug him. And in the morning sometimes it was, "How did my little man sleep?" followed by a hug. It didn't help that, most of the time, all she had on in the mornings was a T shirt and panties. She got up and made breakfast for him and his dad and then got dressed later. She slept in that shirt. She never wore a bra to bed and once in a while she didn't have on panties under it. He had figured out those were the times when his dad and mom had sex the night before. And when she hugged him in the morning, those soft, warm breasts pressed into his chest and he could smell her ... her ... he could just smell "Mom". And mom smelled good.
Sometimes, when she got dressed, she still didn't put on a bra. Bobby could always tell because her breasts sagged a little lower than when she had one on. And of course there were the nipples. He didn't know what they looked like - he'd have given a lot to find out - but they stuck out through her blouses. On days like today, when she was wearing a halter top, he got a double treat of being able to see all that lovely cleavage, as well as the bumps that were her nipples.
So Bobby watched his mother a lot on the trip. He was pretty sure he wasn't supposed to think his mother was sexy, but he'd given up caring about that. He'd had a hardon for the last hundred miles. It didn't bother him though. He just pushed at it once in a while, which felt good, and looked forward to a nice beat-off session when they got to his Aunt and Uncle's ranch later that day.
He remembered the last few times they'd driven up there, but only parts of each visit. He remembered one time they'd gone when he was ten. 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 compact firm 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. Pussy lips. At thirteen he knew what he was looking at, and if he hadn't had a piss boner he would have sprouted one immediately.
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, getting close to him, 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 mother again. She was so different looking from her sister, Aunt Dee.
Aunt Dee was blonde, and reminded him of some of the girls he loved to watch playing fast pitch softball. They were athletic and trim and tanned and just ... healthy looking. Aunt Dee had smallish breasts, but her waist was very narrow and her hips swelled out into a pair of legs that were so long she ought to be six feet tall. But she wasn't. She was only about five feet eight. He remembered what Aunt Dee's naked breasts had looked like, all wet and glistening. Her nipples pointed up a little and had been sharp and long. He looked back at his mother's breasts. They looked bigger, rounder. He wondered if her nipples were pink or brown.
"Why are you looking at me so much?" asked his mother, turning her lovely head towards him.
He'd been caught and his mind searched frantically for something to say. Horrified, he heard his mouth spout, "You're pretty."
His mother laughed. "Well well, little man, you've got a silver tongue in that head of yours. Are you practicing for all those dates you have lined up?"
"I don't know" mumbled Bobby. He didn't know what else to say.
"Well thank you." said his mother. "A girl can't hear enough of that kind of talk, even if it is from her own son."
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. His mom had called ahead and there was a woman waiting for them. It was his Aunt Dee. She was tanned and muscular from all the riding she did. She had on a worn 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 into 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. She had a big grin on her face. He knew she'd hug him too, and ever since seeing her naked that time, just thinking about her caused him to get a boner. Since he already had one, it would only make it bigger and he was afraid she'd feel it.
"I'll get the suitcases mom," he said. She punched the button that made the trunk open and he went straight there. He got two of the four suitcases out and carried them in front of his lump.
Bobby watched his mom greet her sister. They hugged, and suddenly Bobby wondered what it felt like to a girl to have another pair of breasts pressed against her own. He began to wonder if there was something wrong with him. All he thought about any more was sex.
If he thought his aunt would go inside, leaving him to ferry things in and let his erection go down, he was mistaken. Diedre stood, hands on hips, one leg cocked, with the toe pointing out.
"You can carry that stuff in later. I need hugs here!" she demanded.
Bobby tried to get away with just leaning in for a quick kiss, but Dee took the suitcases from his hands and set them down beside him. In the process her face was about a foot from the obvious and pronounced lump at his groin. She looked straight at it and raised an eyebrow as she stood up. She looked up at Bobby's face and then pressed her hard womanly body against him and kissed him soundly on the lips. "My my, have you ever grown up!" she said, grinning. Then she dropped her arms and turned to her sister.
"What have you been feeding this boy? He's almost as tall as Chance!" Chance was her son, and he was nineteen. Chance was going to college to learn business so he could run the ranch some day.
"He about eats us out of house and home" said Cathy wryly.
"Well, he's going to make some girl awfully happy some day." She paused, smiled, and said "If he hasn't already." She laughed and Bobby's mom called her horrible, but laughed too.
"Come on inside and get something to drink. Chance isn't home yet. I begged him to come and I'm so thankful that you and Bobby could come too. With Tom gone there's no way I could get through breeding season alone and that's where we get most of our income."
Then, instead of going in, Dee went to the trunk of the car and got out more of the belongings they'd brought 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 people brought horses for hundreds, even thousands of miles to have them bred by the studs on the Brooks ranch.
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. With very few exceptions, only the Brooks family handled them. And, with Chance, doing an internship between terms at school, and Tom off in Washington, that only left Dee, and the operation needed more than just her. So the Tanner family was invited to come and spend two months, to help during breeding season.
Rudy, Bobby's dad, ran his own business, but couldn't take that much time off. He could maybe visit once in a while and help out for a few days, but that was all. Cathy had decided to go and asked Bobby to go with her, since it would be nice to have a man around for the heavy work, if there was any. Bobby, not excited about spending the summer with nothing to do, agreed, and now, here they were.
The rest of the day and that night they sat around catching up on years gone by. Dee took Bobby and his mother 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 aunt. 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 that were so worn they looked like they might actually fall to pieces at any second. She had pointy-toed worn cowboy boots on and she just looked ... delicious. And then there was his mother too, who bent over looking at things. That caused her breasts to hang in that halter top and he could see clear to the bottom of her cleavage.
All in all, Bobby was getting eye strain from watching the two gorgeous women. 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. It's just chock full of junk, so You'll have to sleep on the couch for tonight. Maybe tomorrow we can clear out enough stuff that you can sleep in his room tomorrow night. He's coming back tomorrow some time, and we'll have to put you two together. I hope that's okay."
Bobby's face fell. He couldn't beat off on the couch. The hallway to his aunt's bedroom looked right at the couch, and if either his aunt or his mother came out to go to the bathroom they'd be able to see him. 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 tomorrow, okay? It won't be so bad, I promise."
And so it was that, when Bobby went to bed that night, he lay down on the couch. His mother came to kiss him good night and she had changed into her T shirt. Her nipples were prominent and as she bent over he could see down the neck of the shirt. He saw the insides of her hanging breasts and past them to her panties.
Then it was his aunt, who wore a frilly panty and bra set with a diaphanous robe over it. She was just gorgeous and she kissed him on the lips. Then she whispered, "I shower in the morning, so you might want to knock before you come in there to ... you know." She grinned. It was obvious she hadn't forgotten the "bathroom incident" either.
As soon as the bedroom door closed 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 at breakfast Dee explained that the breeding operations took two persons. Once Chance got home they could go in shifts, to spread the work out.
"So it's hard work?" asked Cathy.
"Well, not exactly" explained Dee. It's just that Tom always worked under the stallion before, but I know what he had to do and the thought of that ... well, I have a feeling that whoever is under there will want a break now and then."
"I don't understand," said Cathy.
"Well, see it's like this," said Dee. "We don't want any stray bacteria from the stallion's penis getting into the mare, so we have to wash the penis with a solution that gets rid of it. But that solution is also a spermacide, so we have to leave as little of it on the penis as possible. It sort of involves ... well ... I guess some people might call it masturbating the stallion."
Cathy's eyes were big. "Oh! You have to actually ... touch ... the penis?"
"Yes." said Dee. She looked at Bobby. "You think you could do that?"
Bobby felt a lump in his throat. Teenage boys just didn't give serious thought to handling a penis, horse or any other kind. At least other than his own. "Not me" he said, holding up his hands.
Dee sighed. "That's always been Chance's attitude too. Tom would do it, but he's not here. And that leaves just us women. How about you Cathy, could you do that?"
Cathy's eyes were a little unfocused. She didn't know exactly how big a horse penis might be, but she knew it would be bigger than Tom's, and she just loved playing with his. The question got into her brain finally and she shook her head.
"Sure! I mean how hard could it be?"
"I'll help. We'll get through it just fine," Said Dee. She turned back to Bobby. "That means you have to be the hostler. Can you do that?"
Bobby's pride was stung. "I guess so," he said, actually thrilled at the idea of working with horses. "What would I have to do?"
"Well, you'd be going to get the horses 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 handle 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.
"Okay 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 Cathy and Bobby to the barns. The mares had their own barn, as did the stallions. She showed them 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 them how the stalls were numbered. She had already put the horses that would be processed that day in their assigned stalls.
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.
They brought in the first 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 to show Cathy how it was done.
There was 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. Dee sat on the stool and put the bucket under the stallion's penis.
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.
Dee explained the process further as she prepped the first stud.
"Thoroughbreds are valuable animals, and people bring their prize mares from all over to get them bred to one of the Brooks studs. They expect to get a pregnant mare back, with no side effects from the breeding. Here at the ranch we prefer to do what is called "Hand Breeding", which gives us more control over the process. We could just put them in a pen and let them do what comes naturally, but there's more room for error or injury. And when we prep the stud, it helps make sure he's fully erect and ready to go. With the mare's movements limited, she can't really get away from him. It just goes smoother."
Watching his aunt prep the stallion 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.
She reached out with one hand and grasped the penis. Then, with the other hand she got the rag from the bucket and used it to get the penis nice and wet with the sterilizing solution. Then she closed both hands around the penis at the back, by the balls, and sort of squeegeed off the excess fluid. The hands, circled around the erect penis, make a perfect squeegee. That caused the fluid to fall back into the bucket. 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.
But it also made it look a little like the horse was cumming in the bucket.
So, all things considered, Bobby watched his aunt jacking off the stallion.
Cathy watched too, her mouth open. She'd expected the horse cock to be big, but she hadn't expected it to be a foot and a half long, and as big around as her wrist. Some turned out to be even longer. Dee was talking and ... masturbating ... the horse at the same time, and she was breathing hard. Cathy had a pretty good idea that her shortness of breath wasn't from the talking.
Oh sure, it only took one swipe from the base to the tip to effectively get most of the disinfectant off the stallion's penis. It was obvious that Dee liked the feel of that silky smooth thing in her hands, because she gave it a few extra strokes before standing back and telling Bobby to lead him over to the mare's hindquarters.
He did, and then he stood back and watched nature take its course.
Have you ever watched horses mating? 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 human woman, because he'd never last long enough.
But it's an awfully erotic thing to watch.
Both Cathy and Dee were breathing hard when the stallion hopped back down, his penis drooping almost to the dust. It was dripping too, and it obviously wasn't the sterilizing solution this time.
Cathy moaned. "I'm not sure I can do that," she said breathlessly.
"Sure you can," said Dee, just as breathlessly. "Bobby, take the stud back to his stall and get the next one. I'll get the mare." That left Cathy to gather her thoughts and get ready for her first try at prepping a stud.
Bobby brought in a huge roan stallion. Dee had already brought in the next mare and had her hobbled and in the chute. The stallion pranced as he smelled the mare's estrus.
"Hold him tight" warned Dee. "Okay, Cathy, give it a try."
Bobby watched as his mom sat down on the stool. She was wearing another halter top, and as she leaned forward most of her breasts were exposed to his hungry eyes. He saw her reach under the horse and heard her intake of breath.
"It's so hard!" she squealed.
"They can sense your excitement, especially if you talk loud," warned Dee. Her hands twitched as she saw her sister begin stroking the big stud's penis. This one was all of two feet long.
"Ohhhhh" moaned Cathy as her hands played along the hard length of the satiny penis.
"Okay, stop now," said Dee. "You're done Cathy ... you have to stop or he'll ..."
"What?" came Cathy's dreamy voice.
"He'll cum Cathy ... right in your hands," said Dee softly.
Cathy gasped and stumbled to her feet, backing up. Bobby led the stallion to the mare and soon those two feet of hard cock were buried in horse pussy. The stallion snorted as he bucked into the mare and she whinnied. Just as suddenly he was down. But he hadn't finished in the mare. His cock dribbled a cup or more of a mostly clear looking fluid, as if he were pissing into the dirt.
"Ohhh fuck!" exclaimed Cathy. She was panting now. Nobody thought to correct her language.
Dee did the next stallion, and when she stepped back her eyes had a glazed kind of look in them.
It was then that the bell on the side of the barn began ringing. It was hooked to the phone in the house. Dee said she'd be right back and ran for the house, leaving Bobby and his mother to put away the last two horses and bring in the next pair.
They started on the next pair.
It was hot, and Cathy was sweating freely. Her light halter top was a kind of ivory color, and was so soaked that it had become 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 his mother's luscious tits, and licking his lips when he glanced up and saw her watching him ... watching her.
Bobby brought in the fifth 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 Cathy got under him and started in.
Cathy was breathing fast, like she'd just run somewhere or maybe finished a brisk courwe of cardio exercises. 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 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 normal 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 was surprised, of course, and she just naturally leaned back on that little three legged stool, while 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 where her blouse would be, if she'd been wearing a blouse. Instead it landed right in the cleavage of her breasts, where her halter top cut low. That cleavage directed a lot of it up, and it got her face, her hair, her halter top, her arms and the legs of Bobby's jeans just soaked.
She spluttered and her arms waved as she fell backwards off the stool onto the hay-strewn ground, 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, stepped left and relaxed all of a sudden. It was a good thing Cathy had fallen, because the horse stepped right where she would have been. Now she was, more or less, 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 mother, 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 it 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 sopping body.
It was eerily quiet. Cathy went as limp as a sock full of marbles. Bobby looked down at his semen-splattered legs. He pushed the stallion to one side and bent over his mother to see if she was okay - 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 "Bobby honey, I need a shower."
"Are you okay?" Bobby asked.
"You need a shower, too," she said, still looking at him upside down.
"Mom?" he said, trying to get her to respond to him.
"I need a shower," she added, repeating herself.
She sat up with his help and looked around, sort of dazed. "We need a shower," she said. "There's a shower in the bunkhouse."
Bobby helped her stand up and she took his hand and pulled him toward the bunkhouse, which was closer than the big house. There wasn't anybody in there, but even if there had been it probably wouldn't have made any difference. She pulled him to the shower room, which was a big tiled room with three shower heads sprouting from the walls, and started taking her soaked clothes off. First the tennis shoes she usually ran in, and then she got her halter top off, baring the most gorgeous set of tits he had ever seen, Playboy included, and turned on one of the showers. Then she pushed her jeans and panties down and stepped out of them.
Like it was the most normal thing in the world, his Mother turned to him. She didn't tell him to get undressed. He was just standing there, his hands hanging limply at his side. In fact all of him was feeling a little limp.
Well, almost all of him. There was one part of him that was as far from limp as it's possible to get. If you had looked in the dictionary to see the list of antonyms for 'limp' there would have been a picture of his penis there as a visual aid.
Cathy undressed her son as she had when he was a little boy, taking his shirt off first. Her hands flitted across his muscular chest and she hummed. Then she knelt and unbuckled his belt, her face only inches from the lump that would soon be exposed if she continued to undress her 'little man'.
When she jerked his jeans down and the visual aid sprang forth like some too-perky cheerleader, she stopped everything and stared at it and said, "Mmmmm ... Ahhhh".
Bobby was a big boy. He stood at six feet and an inch, and he swam a lot, so he was sort of wedge shaped, with wide shoulders and slim hips. He'd never measured his cock, mostly because he knew he'd feel stupid trying to do that. Besides, who do you tell once you've done that? It's not like you bounce into the kitchen while your Mom is fixing dinner and announce "Guess what? My prick is seven and five sixteenths inches long! Aren't you proud of me?"
And you wouldn't tell your friends either. They'd laugh at you, for one thing, and then claim they were an inch longer, whether it was true or not.
But Cathy had seen a couple of these things before, and she recognized a dyed-in-the-wool-man-sized phallus when she saw one. And she was looking at one that was bigger than any other she'd seen ... on a man, anyway. That this man-sized prick belonged to her own son didn't seem to penetrate her lust-fogged mind.
She kept trying to get his jeans off over his tennis shoes, but that wasn't working and she apparently got frustrated because she shouted, "Get the damn things off!". Bobby kicked off the shoes without untying them and then tugged the wet jeans off. His socks were wet from the water running along the floor toward the drain.
So there he was, standing there, naked, with soggy white socks on, and his thoroughly wet but astonishingly beautiful mother was standing about the length of a horse penis away from him, also totally naked.
She stared at him, wild-eyed for a few seconds, and then tugged him toward the flowing water. She grabbed a bar of soap and pressed it to his chest, rubbing it in a circle over his hard pecs. She was humming again. Her hair was wet now, and it hung down in strings across her face. Bobby reached up and pushed her wet hair off of her cheek, and her blue eyes looked up into his.
"I have to wash you," she said, panting. "I got stuff on you."
"Mom ..." said Bobby. He wasn't thinking too clearly either. He'd wanted to see her breasts naked for years, and there they were, just inches from him. Her nipples were dark brown, set on lighter areolas and they were as big as his little fingertip. They were also standing at attention like an honor guard Marine.
Cathy ignored him, and washed lower and lower, sinking slowly down to her knees. She stared at his erect prick. It was pointing up, like an anti-aircraft gun looking for a target. Her soapy hands slid closer and closer until suddenly, she was ... prepping her own son. She heard him groan as the ecstasy of what she was doing flooded his brain and he unconsciously arched his back, shoving his prick closer to his mother's face. She whimpered as she stroked him.
"So long" she whispered. "So hard."
"I have to sit down" he gasped. "I'm going to fall down." His knees sagged as he said it.
Cathy helped him to his own knees and then he sat, his legs straight out, as the water cascaded over his head and shoulders. In a daze Cathy pushed him backwards until he was lying on the cold tile. She stared at his clean, wet prick and licked her lips. She knew she shouldn't, but she couldn't control herself. Before Bobby could get his eyes cleared of water, his mother had scrambled over him, squatting until her pussy was right over his cock. She leaned over and fisted it one more time, notched it in her pussy, and sank down, filling her pussy with her little man's cock.
"Ahhhhhhhhhh," she groaned as the end of his prick kissed her cervix.
"Maaaaaaaaa," groaned Bobby, as his cock was enveloped in hot slippery pussy.
Bobby, despite all the lies he told his friends, had never actually done this before. He really didn't know what to expect. Even so, he was surprised. All he felt was heat. She was so slick that there was almost no friction. Then he felt the tip of his cock plunge into something rubbery and her hands came down on his chest. Her hips slid toward his face, and then reversed themselves with alarming violence, sliding back toward his feet. Again he felt the tip of his cock dig into something spongy and she wailed, howling like a cat in heat. Her hips were jerking so hard that her breasts were flopping up and down, in opposite to each other. Bobby watched in awe as her left one went up, while the right one went down. Then they reversed. He put his hands up to stop them, because it looked like it had to hurt.
"Yes! Squeeze my titties," she cried, and he mauled them, pushing them this way and that and squeezing them together. Then she leaned forward and her oily clit rubbed up and down his stomach. Now her breasts were rubbing all over his face and her mouth was right by his ear and she was gasping "so close ... so close ... awwwww so close."
She leaned back a little and through wet hair she looked at him. It was her face, but when Bobby looked at it she seemed ... not quite there, like some alternate personality had taken over her body. There was a hunger in her blue eyes that he'd never forget.
Then she kissed him and he thought he might just faint from the pleasure of it. It snapped something inside of him and he felt his balls ache as they powered his teenage spunk into his prick. It swelled with its heavy load and his cock spat a long thick string of cum into his mother's pussy.
She felt it and screamed "Yes!" She strained to slide toward his feet, and his cock burrowed into that rubbery spot again. He felt something open for him and it sort of slid all around the tip of his dick, like two lips kissing it.
That was just in time for his next three ropes of sperm to rocket out of his cock and directly into his mother's fertile womb. She used a diaphragm at home, but since Rudy wasn't going to be here ... well it was in its case on her night stand ... where it wouldn't do her any good at all.
She didn't care. Like the mares she had seen being fucked, she wanted only to mate, and this was the stud she'd been partnered with. She welcomed that slippery thick heat into her body with an orgasm of her own that locked her jaw and made her hands slide up her son's chest and to the floor as she fell helplessly on top of him. Her breasts squashed as she lay on top of her son, while his cock kept spitting shots of active, healthy sperm into her womb.
They lay there together, limp, the warm water still raining down on them. Cathy didn't want to move, but the civilized part of her brain knew that her sister would come looking for them. She couldn't be found like this.
"Oh Bobby," she said sadly as she began to push herself up.
His hands caught her face and pulled it to his and he kissed her deeply and hungrily, as a lover does. She almost fell back into the control of her lust at that kiss, wanted to suck his cock back to hardness so she could feel it going off in her pussy again. But she found some self discipline from somewhere and pushed herself up.
"Oh Bobby," she said again. "I'm so sorry baby."
"I'm not," he said more or less firmly.
"But we shouldn't have done that," she complained. She almost laughed. His cock was still inside her, still half hard.
"I'm glad we did," he said. "I love you, Mother." He said it as if there were nothing wrong with loving his mother ... as a lover. Her heart strings twanged and she smiled.
"I know. And I love you too. But we aren't supposed to love each other this much. Your aunt will come looking for us soon. Do you want her to find us like this?"
That mind picture, in Bobby's brain, involved Dee finding them ... and joining them ... getting naked and ... all the rest. His cock twitched in his mother's pussy.
Cathy's eyes got round as she felt that. "Men!" she huffed. "They're all the same!" But she leaned over and kissed him gently. "You might like that, but I wouldn't. We've got to get dressed. Come on."
Their clothes were soaked, but that's all they had. And they had no choice but to put them back on. At least the horse semen had been washed out of them. They were walking toward the door of the bunkhouse when Dee opened it, calling for them.
"I've been looking everywhere for you two! What in the world are you two doing?" she sounded exasperated.
"We had an ... accident," said Cathy.
"A horse spunked my mother," said Bobby.
"And it got all over Bobby too," said Cathy, blushing red. "And we had to get it off, so I just brought him here. I remembered the shower from when you showed us around."
Dee looked at them narrowly. Something was wrong here. But they looked normal, or at least as normal as two people can look while they're walking around completely soaked.
"Well, I wondered. I found a mare in the chute and Dancer wandering around in the paddock. That was Chance on the phone. He'll be here in the morning. We've gotten enough done for this morning. I put the horses away. Come on up to the house and get into some dry clothes and we'll have lunch."
She turned on her heel and walked out.
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