The old, uneven boards creaked softly beneath his hooves as he stood before the sink. His belly, straining within the confines of his flannel shirt, rumbled in protest as he leaned against the counter to dip his hands into the tepid suds. Ander pulled up a white plate, the border glazed with the shapes of blue flowers, and sighed. Taking an old cloth, he wiped down the soapy surface. Setting the plate into the cupboard, the goat began to reach into the sink to fish out another piece of ceramic, when he stopped. Framed in the shimmering glass of the kitchen window, his own reflection gazed back at him. His long snout, white, with splotches of black around his eyes peered back. His lips were pulled into a tight frown. Ander sighed, reaching up to tug at the short braid which dangled from his left shoulder, heedless of the suds he left to gather upon his hair. Through the window, the deep violet and blue of evening were fast setting over the woods which hemmed in their cabin. The black skeletons of the waving pines swayed in the night breeze, scratching faintly against the glass. Ignoring the fluttering within his swollen belly, Ander leaned in closer to the goat reflected in the glass. “Maybe I did something to anger him?” he asked. Behind him, the old, dented refrigerator hummed. “Was… Was I embarrassing him?” He tugged his braid and looked down, his gaze wandering over the flannel expanse of his gravid belly, which ballooned over the sink. “Oh, why did I wear this today?” “Wear what?” came a hoarse reply. A pair of strong, hard hands clapped to his pregnant belly, and the goat nearly leapt from his skin. “Markus,” he yelped, letting his dishcloth tumble from his dripping fingers to hit the floor with a wet slap. “Yes,” replied a goat with dark brown hair. His eyes were a luminous yellow, like a cat’s, in the shimmering reflection of the window. “That is my name, dear. Next, are you going to tell me that we’ve been married for five years?” Ander placed a hand to his breast, taking a deep breath to steady himself. “Seven, husband. We’ve been married for seven years.” “Really?” The billy’s ears swiveled. “Are you sure? I don’t think it’s been that long already.” Ander rolled his eyes. “You wouldn’t,” he said with a laugh. He placed his hands over his husband’s, his mouth quickly turning back down into a frown. Markus slid his hands around the goat’s gravid belly, the rasp of flannel in his ears as his fingers sought the straining button’s of his lover’s shirt. “You seemed distant at dinner,” he said, plucking one button. Ander did not respond, the goat leaned heavily against the counter as Markus continued to undo the buttons of his shirt. “Is something on your mind?” “On my mind?” Ander asked. “Um, as a matter of fact.” He toyed with the braid on his shoulder. “Markus, do I… embarrass you?” At this, Markus immediately stopped. The billy looked to his wife, his yellow gaze flashing with concern. “Embarrass me? How so?” Ander squirmed from the other goat’s grasp. Whirling about to face his love, he then let his gaze wander to the floor. His palms on the counter, he leaned back, biting at his lower lip as he said, “This morning, when I went to the mill. You seemed so keen to turn me away.” “The mill?” replied Markus. Suddenly, his ears pricked up. “Oh, that.” The sun was just peaking through the iron grey clouds, heavy with rain, when Ander had found himself at the wide, front doors of the sawmill. His hooves squished gently in the black mud as he made his way to the open doorway. He was clad in his favorite red flannel and a pair of canvas shorts which hugged his firm, round thighs so deliciously as they descended to just above his knees. The ripe swell of his full buttocks wobbled as his gravid hips swayed with each step. His pregnant belly, distended like a plaid globe, leading the way as he entered the squatting, behemoth of concrete. Instantly, the raw scent of fresh lumber caught his nose as the shrill scream of the saw pierced his ears. He watched as a great log of solid pine was placed onto the conveyor belt, the teeth of the ever hungry saw screeched in their lust for the fresh wood. Steel met lumber with a satisfying crunch as the workers scurried across the floor to load up another log. “Markus!” Ander cupped a hand to his mouth and cried out his husband’s name over the shrill cries of the saw. “Markus! Honey! I brought your lunch.” A greasy paper bag crinkled in his hand, which he kept close to his round hip. “Honey?” he called. “Are you here?” “Ander!” The cry cut the dusty air like a bullwhip. Ander winced and spun about to see Markus striding across the floor. A yellow hard hat adorned his head, holes cut away to allow his horns to protrude freely. A pair of scratched goggles dangled about his neck, while his front was plastered in a fine layer of sawdust. “Oh, there you are, dear,” chirped the goat. He held up the paper bag, which Markus snatched away, making Ander flinch. “O-Oh, is something wrong?” “Wrong?” hissed the billy. “You can’t be here. What are you doing?” “I-I just wanted to see you at work,” stammered Ander. The pregnant goat began to shrink back. “I-I was lonely and--” “You have to go,” Markus snapped. Taking Ander by the shoulders, he hustled the other goat to the door. Glancing over his shoulder, he then said, “Just get out before anyone sees you.” Ander’s lower lip quivered as he rested against the counter. “You seemed upset that I was there.” Tears glistened in his eyes making those big, brown orbs shimmer. “Markus, do I embarrass you? Is it because… because of what I am? What we are? Markus?” The brown goat reached up, his hands, big, calloused from working in the mill, gently cupped Ander’s face. His lips closed in, meeting the other goat in a kiss which made Ander stagger as the strength melted from his gravid body. “I would never be embarrassed of you,” whispered Markus. His hands slid down to the buttons of Ander’s shirt, one by one, plucking them open, letting the round orb of soft, swollen flesh spill free. Like fresh bread in the oven, Ander’s white belly swelled, filling his palms with warm, soft skin. “But, today at the mill,” said Ander. He stopped as he spied a grin spread over Markus’s face. “What’s so funny?” Markus’s fingertips glided up the curve of his wife’s belly, tangling in the scruff of thick, black fur which spilled down from Ander’s throat to descend below the waistband of his shorts. The billy licked his lips, his thoughts turning to the thick nest of dark, musky fur and the treasures which lay concealed within that jungle. “You see,” Markus chuckled. “The guys at work have this thing. When someone’s wife comes to visit they will never let it slide.” He laughed, a high, warbling bleat. “Oh, you should have seen it when Frank’s wife showed up. Oh, we would not let him forget it for a week!” He smiled and ran his hand down the back of his head. “I suppose I should have said something sooner.” Ander shook his head, but he could not restrain the broad grin from splitting his face. “My husband, ever the dolt.” “I guess I am,” said Markus. His hands fell upon Ander’s belly, swirling over the ripe mound of gravid flesh. Ander’s breath quickly became a soft pant as his husband’s rough fingers slid up to cup a soft, milky breast. Once, his chest was as firm as Markus’s, hard with muscle. Now, his breast was bloated, tender to the touch. How his flannel shirt did chafe at times. Markus’s hand curled over the soft, jiggling mound, causing the goat to tremble at his touch. Ander’s bosom filled his palm, as if made just for him. His finger found the slick, bumpy areola, he pressed himself to Ander’s pregnant belly, his lips meeting the goat’s mouth as he traced the billy’s firm nipple. The goat shivered, moaned softly through his nose as Markus plucked at the erect nub of flesh. Pinching gently, he twisted, pain and pleasure dancing up Ander’s spine. “Ah, husband,” he moaned, tearing his lips from Markus. Markus attacked his throat, his soft, dry lips seeking the supple flesh as his other hand plunged for Ander’s shorts. Strong fingers ripped away the zipper, allowing the black rod of throbbing flesh to rise like a pillar beneath the maternal swell of Ander’s belly. His shorts pulled down his wide hips, Ander wrapped his arms around his husband’s neck, whimpering as powerful fingers curled around his cock. “O-Oh Markus,” he sighed, his breath a whisper of longing that played about Markus’s ears. “Please, take me.” His leg rose, hooking around his husband’s firm, muscular thigh as the other goat stroked his quivering member. Ander groaned, while Markus continued to swirl his thumb around the goat’s nipple. His questing mouth fell to the deep well of Ander’s collarbone. There, he filled that wanting chalice with his kisses as Ander melted in his arms. The billy trembled, his wobbling belly quaking against the firm ridges of Markus’s abdominals. “I think we should call it a night,” Markus whispered. His cock strained against the confines of his jeans, eager to leap free even as he grasped the hot, throbbing flesh of his lover. “Y-Yes,” replied Ander. His voice was a thin croak, choking with the primal lust welling up from within him. A fire burned hot in his belly as he gazed upon his husband. “Oh!” He leapt up, nearly slipping out of Markus’s grasp. “The dishes!” He made to turn back to the sink when a hairy hand took his chin, spinning him around. His eyes filled with a luminous yellow, twin orbs burning with a primitive need that made the goat’s throat grow tight. “Leave them,” commanded Markus. His voice was a husky growl. Ander nodded, feeling the heat blooming in his cheeks. “Y-Yes,” he said, licking his lips. “I-I can get them in the morning.” His mouth curled into a small smile. “I’ll meet you in the bedroom. But, honey, I need to get something first.” He pushed himself from Markus, his erect shaft thrust out like a black lance from his pulled down shorts. “Don’t be long,” said Markus. He gave a wink that sent ripples tingling down Ander’s spine. “I’ll be waiting.” [center]***[/center] The trees were painted a deep purple and blue behind him. Through the black clouds, the moon spilled a radiant silver, adding its brushstroke to the wooded landscape. The soft wind blew a delicate sigh that set the boughs of the gnarled pines to sway outside their bedroom windows. Sitting at the edge of their oak framed bed, Markus hung his calloused hands between his bare knees and waited. Waited for his love to enter through the door, to stride across the woven rug which slumped across the creaking planks. His brown fur was short and shone with a gentle silver as the moonlight crept over the bedroom. His yellow eyes darted from the door, to the clock which ticked softly on the wall and then back again. His broad chest, hardened by years of hewing the ample lumber of the forest, heaved as he sighed. Then, suddenly, his ears pricked up. Was that a squeak he heard? Markus turned to the door, his breath catching in his throat. Slowly, the tarnished brass knob turned, bringing with it a shrill squeak as metal rubbed against metal. The heavy oak door swung open, as if peeling back from the wall, allowing a single, shapely calf to emerge. Silver in the moonlight, that hooved leg would grow, tapering into a plump, round thigh blotched a deep ebony. Markus gulped, his fingers clasping together as Ander materialized from the gloom. Closing the door behind him, the pregnant goat leaned heavily against the jamb, one hand beneath the maternal swell of his belly, the other toying with the loose braid which dangled down his left shoulder. His eyes were a rich amber, glowing like molten bronze as the moonlight struck his heavenly face. It was then that Markus caught the rich crimson of his full, glistening lips, shimmering wetly in the darkness beneath eyes painted a vibrant emerald. “How do I look?” Ander asked. He tugged his braid across his mouth like a veil, letting the end fall freely from his strong, yet slender hand. Markus made to speak, but his mouth was stuffed with cotton. His lips trembled, but no words could come. The goat, his love, his mate, was beautiful. His fur was a brilliant silver white in the moonlight, splotched as if by ink with a deep black that drank in his very soul. Ander crossed one leg over the other, a leg thick with hard, strong muscle, now made so perfectly soft by a maternal padding. His hips were wide, round, rising to his swollen belly, the navel a small hump protruding from his abdomen. Arms still thick with muscle hugged his gravid frame, pushing up the soft mounds of his bloated, milky breasts, nipples shiny and black, catching the light as the goat swayed, revealing the plump curve of his fat ass. “You look,” Markus fought for the simplest of words “Um, great…” His heart hammered in his chest, thumping against his ribs. His broad chest pumped as he gasped for breath, his cock rising, becoming painfully erect. His throat constricted as he watched Ander drop the braid from his lips, a smile of bright crimson cutting his face like the bite of the goat’s ax into a fresh log. “I’m so glad,” the pregnant goat replied. “I was concerned. I know money is tight right now and I so hated to spend it on such frivolities. But, when I was in town, I saw them and just had to get them.” He pawed the end of his braid, his amber gaze falling on the strong, wide shoulder of Markus, dipping down the chiseled jaw with its crest of beard. His eyes roved across the expanse of the goat’s chest, the rippling strength of his stomach, coming to a halt at the quivering spear thrust upright between his legs. The moonlight glowed silver on the taut black flesh of Markus’s swollen tip, an opalescent bead of fresh dew welling up as the goat sat rigid. “I see you are ready, dear.” “I was born ready.” Markus’s voice was a raspy grunt. Ander pursed his lips in a haughty smirk and pushed his heavy body from the door. With long, graceful strides, he crossed the rug, his hooves scuffing on the rough weave. Markus licked his lips, his eyes drinking in the spectral beauty of his love. The trees danced behind them their writhing shadows playing across Ander’s features, masking parts of him, while exposing others. An eye glowed hot and molten, only to dip into black shadow, revealing the play of ruby lips which beckoned to the ripe swell of his pregnant belly, the kicks of new life making it quake in his hand. His body seemed to fade into the shadow, always moving, giving Markus but a small taste of the honeyed pleasures to come, yet always to pull back as if teasing him. The goat’s cock strained, veins standing up like steel cables as his fat balls hung between his thighs, churning with fresh seed. His breath blew hot and moist, puffing searing clouds of mist in the cool air of their bedroom. His great body burned, hot with a raw lust for the ethereal creature which glided up to him. Ander slung his arms around Markus’s neck, pulling his husband to him. Markus took the goat’s hips, placing his lips to Ander’s belly. Beneath the soft, taut flesh, the flutterings of their unborn shifted peacefully. Markus sniffed, tears stinging at the corners of his eyes. His hard hands slid from Ander’s hips to caress the swollen orb of the goat’s belly. “I love you,” he croaked in a voice that was almost a sob. Ander stroked the back of his head. “I know,” was his only reply. His hand came around to tilt the billy’s chin up, bringing his mouth close. Ander leaned down, his ruby lips claiming his husband’s mouth. Warm, pink tongues slithered like enraged serpents, spiraling and twisting, twining endless around one another. Ander’s tongue jabbed deep, rubbing the roof of Markus’s mouth, exploring his flat, white teeth as his husband moaned through his nose. Meanwhile, Markus too, did slide himself into the waiting mouth of his love. He tickled the underside of Ander’s tongue slithering around to caress the bumpy surface of his taste buds. Ander pulled back, letting their questing tongues writhe in the open air, a shimmering string of saliva hanging between them, drool trickling down their chins as he laughed. “I think it looks better on you.” Ander giggled at the red smear which now stained his husband’s lips. He sank down, his mouth hungry for the flesh of Markus’s throat. His hot kisses rained down on his husband, flowing like the summer rain down his neck, filling the hollow of his collarbone as they spilled down the broad sweep of his firm, powerful chest. Markus clung to the biceps of his wif, offering only a contented moan as Ander continued to descend. His belly clenched as soft lips grazed the rippling flesh. Slowly, Ander lowered himself between Markus’s thighs. His hands fell to the hard muscles of his husband’s legs, fingertips tracing the grooves of the sartorius, like carved marble. His knees sank into the rug as his breath puffed hot and wet on the goat’s throbbing shaft. His hands rose to cup the firm spheres of his husband’s balls, fondling them as if they were a precious treasure. Precious indeed, the pregnant goat thought. For were they not the jewels which blessed him with the joy which even now squirmed within his bloated womb? His massive belly scraping against the floor, pressing against the squealing boards until the life within him shuddered with a flurry of protesting kicks, Ander leaned forward. His fingers curled around Markus’s fat, hard rod, sliding effortlessly up the hot, throbbing shaft, delighting in the bumpy texture of the billy’s pulsing veins as he sought the velvet tip. Markus, his palms on the mattress, let his head fall back. His belly heaved as he gasped for breath, huffing in rasping pants as Ander stroked his erect penis. “Ngh,” the goat moaned. Ander placed his lips to that bulbous tip, his nimble tongue slipping from his jaws to circle the wide opening of his husband’s urethra. He tasted the bitter dew, lapping the pungent musk from Markus’s cock, savoring the heady flavor on his tongue as if it were a fine wine. Then, Ander slid his tongue down the plump underside of the goat’s shaft. Slipping, curling, he slithered up Markus’s rod, flicking the firm, spongy tip as his fingers continued to stroke. With soft, popping smacks, his full, red lips worked down the hot black pole, meeting his balls in a kiss that sent Markus plummeting to the mattress. His belly rose and fell with short, rapid breaths as he laid sprawling across the bed. Ander took up that throbbing rod and with a grin, he said to Markus, “How does that line go? If you need me, just whistle, right? You know how to whistle? Simply put your lips together and blow.” His lips wrapped around the goat’s cock as his voice trailed off into a sultry purr. Bloated tits sagging, he plunged into the bristling nest of dark brown pubic hair. His nose tickled as he inhaled the rich, intoxicating perfume of Markus’s body. The sour odor of sweat mingled with the bitter stench of his musk, making Ander’s head swim. More than any wine, the goat found himself drunk on his husband’s scent. The taste of sweat and the raw flavor of naked flesh danced on his tongue as he lapped at the swollen rod of firm meat which filled his mouth. Lower, he slid, taking that great spear into his mouth, letting the velvet tip press against his tonsils. Then, lips clenching, he pulled back, milking Markus’s cock until the billy let out a warbling groan of utter delight. “U-Uggghhhhh….” came the cry. Markus slung an arm over his face, covering his eyes. His hair was dampened with sweat, shining in the moonlight as he panted. “Oh… Oh, Ander.” “I’m going to have to have a talk with the foreman at the mill,” said Ander, plucking his lips from Markus’s shaft. “He’s working my man so hard that he has no stamina left.” He gingerly traced his fingertips along the firm, hot flesh, now shiny and slick with the goat’s saliva. “Can my big, strong husband still go the distance?” At this a gleam shone in Markus’s eye. The goat raised his head, his yellow eyes like sparks of witchfire in the gloom. “Hop up here and I’ll show you.” Struggling to his hooves, Ander clambered onto the bed. The old springs squealed beneath his gravid weight as he straddled the prostrate Markus. His fat rump nudged the wet, rigid pole of throbbing flesh as he let his heavy belly press down on his husband’s chest. His amber eyes gleamed, the moonlight setting them to glow like hot coals as he placed his hands on Markus’s palms. Fingers spreading, he laid his palms on the goat’s hands, his mouth lowering to his husband’s chest. His ass inched back, the ripe cheeks, like two fat pumpkins, split before that hard, black rod, taking the goat’s cock between their wobbling folds. Markus let out a gasp as his tip struck the slackened ring. Like a delicate flower, Ander’s anus bloomed, wet and ready, sliding over Markus’s cock, engulfing his flesh, wrapping around the slick rod like the goat’s ruby lips had done only minutes before. A flush blossomed on his cheeks as Ander sat back, taking that hot, quivering shaft into him. His gravid belly swelled and the pregnant goat let out a sigh as he relished in the feeling of fullness which washed over him. Crimson lips pecked the hard muscular chest of Markus as Ander pushed himself upright. Straddled atop his husband, he placed his hands on the goat’s chest to steady himself as he began to rock. Lips pursed, fat cheeks grinding against Markus’s pubic bone, Ander let out a contented sigh. His hips blacked, lifting him up as he clenched his ring tight around the goat’s throbbing cock. Up, his cheeks hovering above the groaning billy, only to descend, slowly, achingly, deliciously. Markus’s hands crept up Ander’s knees, caressing his thighs to seek those fleshy spheres. His fingers sank deep into the jiggling flesh, bringing a squeal to his lover’s lips as Ander dropped hard. “O-Oh,” moaned Markus. His cheeks flushed crimson as the pregnant goat rode him. “Don’t tell me you’ve had enough,” said Ander. “Ugh, don’t bet on it.” Markus slid his hands to Ander’s hips, dragging the goat down. Belly pressed to his chest, Markus hooked his arms beneath Ander’s armpits. With a sudden wrench, he turned, flipping the pair over. Ander let out a cry as he plummeted to the bed, only to be replaced by a belly-shaking laugh. “Oh my,” he wheezed. “My man is so forceful.” He wrapped his thighs around Markus’s waist, lockinghis hooves together as the billy gripped his hips. Now on top, Markus pumped, thrusting with wanton fury, building into a grunting crescendo that saw sparks bursting in Ander’s eyes. “Ah,” he cried out as that velvet tip struck his prostate. “Ah! Ah! Yes! Yes, Markus!” Sweat poured down his husband’s dark brow, raining crystalline droplets that sparkled in the moonlight. His legs came unwound, now falling freely to the sides as the billy took him. With hard, slow thrusts Markus pushed deeper, seeking the goat’s core. Ander whimpered, his voice rising into a high, thin wail that shook the rafters as his husband crashed against the gates of his womb. His belly ballooned above him, a massive mound of white, crested with a bushy ridge of thick black fur, wobbled as he sobbed for breath. His temples pounded, drowning out his shrieks of such utter elation. Until… Markus pulled out with a wet [i]schulp[/i]. Trailing shimmering precum down his hard, black shaft, the goat sat back. “Hey,” whined Ander. “What gives?” Markus only smiled and took the goat by his wide maternal hips. Guided by his husband’s strong calloused hands, Ander felt himself being turned. “Oh? Oh, I see,” he chuckled. He allowed himself to rotate, flipping onto his belly. On hands and knees, he spread his thighs, raising his fat rump up in the air. “Wanted to take me from behind, love?” “More than that,” replied Markus. The billy slipped his hand between those jiggling cheeks, two fingers plunging into Ander’s gaping anus. The pregnant goat shivered, giving a low moan as his husband's fingers gingerly caressed the smooth, tight walls. Meanwhile, the goat’s other hand was sliding around Ander’s swollen belly. Playing in the thick scruff of his fur, Markus descended. His powerful fingers curled around Ander’s cock, stroking his love until the goat was bleating like a nanny. “A-Ah, M-Markus,” Ander moaned. “O-Oh, I can’t take it.” Shimmering precum spurting from his tip, spreading across the itchy blankets in a wide, dark stain. His belly lurched, clenching hard as he panted desperately. Markus slid his hand from the goat’s throbbing member, leaving it slick with shining fluid. His fingers slipped from Ander’s ring as he pried the goat’s cheeks apart. With both hands, he spread open the delicate flower before him. “Markus?” Ander’s eyes grew wide. “W-What are you doing?” “Just this,” came the reply. “No, you wouldn’t,” Ander squeaked. “Please, no! I-I’ll go crazy. Makrus, don’t I--” The goat’s feeble protests were cut short by a guttural scream that tore itself from his throat. Markus had brought his lips to that quivering ring, his mouth meeting that blossom in a kiss that sent the goat into a dizzying spiral of ecstasy. Markus’s tongue came alive, slithering into Ander’s wet, hot anus, lapping at his shuddering rectum with wet slurps as he plunged for the goat’s weakening prostate. His senses inflamed, Markus drank deep the heady musk of his love. The spicy odor filled his nostrils as he savored the pungent aroma. Sweet honey lathered his tongue as he devoured the shrieking goat’s ass, his hunger only intensifying, spurring his desire. Ander screamed, the air blasted from his aching lungs, leaving him with nothing more than a thin whisper as his husband’s nimble tongue continued to swirl and flick. His arms prickled as if they had gone numb. His strength ebbing, he collapsed to the bed, a hand over his breast as he fought to breathe. “Oh fuck,” he sobbed. Tears streamed down his black cheeks. “Oh fuck… M-Markus…” The billy’s warm, dry lips pulled away from the goat’s wet, slackened ring. His hot kisses danced up Ander’s back, his strong arms wrapping around his pregnant belly. One rough paw glided down the curve of Ander’s belly, falling his thigh to gently pry his legs apart. Ander offered no resistance, giving himself fully to his husband as Markus rose to mount his sweet lover. Ander buried his hot, damp face into the blankets, his cries muffled as Markus guided himself into the goat’s wanting ring. His cock, still slick with the juices of his lover, slipped effortlessly into that quivering donut. His hands came to rest on Ander’s hips and with a steady rhythm, he began to thrust. Slow, steady pumps soon quickened into hard, fast strikes that pounded Ander’s prostate. A stream of hot seed erupted from his erect shaft, spurting onto the bed as Markus continued to drill himself into him. Faster now, the wet slap of raw meat echoed as his pelvis crashed into the pregnant goat’s wobbling cheeks. Ander’s belly hung pendulous below his sagging tits as he rocked back and forth carried away on a pulsating sea of giddy pleasure. Markus pumped faster, crashing harder, his balls churning with fresh seed eager to burst like a ripe fruit. His fingers dug into soft flesh, his tip quaking, itching with the need to expend itself. “A-Ah, husband,” wailed Ander. “Please, finish me!” Markus shuddered, letting himself go. Hot, bubbling seed burst deep into Ander’s belly, flooding his bloated womb, swelling his ripe belly with fresh expansion as Markus gave himself once more with a low groan. Muscles straining, spittle frothing his lips, the goat slamming his pelvis hard against Ander’s rump, locking the pair together. His arms slipped under the goat’s leg, lifting him, turning him once more so that the two now lay on their sides. His arm under Ander’s raised knee, Markus wrapped his other arm around the goat’s belly, hugging him to his broad, sweaty chest. Ander looped an arm around his husband’s neck, bringing his lips to Markus, meeting him with a deep, soulful kiss. “That was incredible, dear,” he said through bleary, half-lidded eyes. “Mmm, I feel so dreamy” His head swam as if he were drunk. Ander giggled as his husband pulled his softening cock from his battered flower. A thin trickle of semen oozed from his slackened anus, dribbling down his inner thigh. “Oh my, I hope I don’t get pregnant.” This brought a grin to Markus’s dark face. In the silvery moonlight, his yellow eyes shone like a cat’s. “Well, if you do,” he said, giving the goat's belly a loving rub. “I suppose I’ll have to marry you.” “Ugh,” said Ander. “I suppose then, you’ll expect me to cook for you?” “Nah,” replied the billy. “I’ve had your cooking. I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy.” Ander’s ears pricked up. “Hey, my cooking is not [i]that[/i] bad!” Both goats erupted into bleating laughter. Roused by the commotion, Ander’s belly gave a tremble. “Oh, we woke up the little one,” he said, patting the shuddering swell of his gravid belly. “He’s an active one,” said Markus. He placed a hand on Ander’s belly. “Must take after his dad.” “Which one?” asked Ander with a chuckle. This earned him a kiss from Markus. “So, dear,” he added. “Can I come visit you at the mill tomorrow?” Markus reeled back as if struck, the color drained from his face. “Not on your life.” Ander clapped a hand over his mouth, his shoulders shaking. “What’s so funny?” “Oh, honey,” bleated Ander. “You are too much.” The dark goat rolled his eyes. “And this, dear, is why we don’t let the wives come to our workplace.”