“Hey there, pretty lady. Ain’t seen you around these parts before.  Ya mind if I join ya?”


“Who, me? What would a strong, broad bull such as yourself want with little ol’ me?”


“I reckon I could think of a thing or two.” Vic flicked at his brimmed hat. A prop hat, but it felt nice on his head. “Depends on what yer sellin’?”


“Well,” Clea sat on the bar stool at their counter. The dingo’s eyes gazed his way, slowly, seductively blinking. “I’m certainly sellin’ what you may be seekin’. But I have a problem you see, I’m havin’ a problem with the men.”


“Oh..”


“Mmhmm, they can’t handle me. Thought I was a delicate flower who couldn’t take a lickin’. From the tales I heard ‘round these parts, those yellow bellies couldn’t hold hide nor hair to you.”


“Well, I ain’t one fer tootin’ my own horn.” Vic countered leaning his way forward across the counter. Biting on the toothpick in his maw. “But ain’t that a shame, a sweet thing like you deserves better.”


“You sayin’ yer solicitin’ my services this evenin’?” Clea leaned forward, their eyes held each other. A silent dance and battle for who was going to break character first. But this wasn’t Vic’s first rodeo, he could keep the cowboy shtick up for as long as he needed to. Long enough to woo his lovely mate to bed, and beyond.


It was a fun pastime for these two. Vic wasn’t a cowboy. They weren’t roughing it on the frontier plains. Clea wasn’t a precocious harlot. It was all fantasy, and it was all fun. It dulls the monotony and drudgery of mundane life.


“I reckon I am.”


“Well, take me away hunk of prime, grade A beef.” The bull needed no further encouragement. He crossed around the counter, various dishes and silverware from dinner sat soaking in the sink. They probably wouldn’t be done tonight. But someone will be, he was slowly feeling the adrenaline and arousal stir his heart. He nearly slipped on their tiled floors as he spun around the edges. Clea’s shocked face was what really put a fire in his belly and below his belt. The squeal she made as he lifted her over his shoulder just fanned it hotter.


“Vic, Vic, put me down! You dick!”


“Sorry, little lady, yer mine tonight. If I’m hankerin’ to hogtie you up, you can bet your ass that’s what’ll happen.” He groped her rear as he said it, squeezing the fine mounds of his wife. Her legs kicked as she tried to squirm out of his grasp.


“Ah! You pig.” Her words may have been harsh but the bull didn’t care. It was all part of the game anyway.


“Yer the one squealin’ like a hog.” Vic countered keeping in character, as he wandered down the hallways of their house. Portraits of their lives together serving as mementos. Their wedding, their vacation to Europe, their hikes through the Appliacian mountains. No matter the backdrop or location Clea beamed, he just felt lucky to have been involved. His daydreams were interrupted by a sharp pain from his lower back. He halted and turned his head. Fine ass filled his view.


“There a good reason you pulled my tail?” He dropped the bad accent he had adapted.


“I had a hankerin’ for it.” Clea teased as she tugged it again. Languished in her drawl.


“Do I need to tone it down?”


“You're fine, you know I like it rough.” A fine smack echoed through the hall as she spanked him. “So get your backside in gear, cow.”


“Yes, ma’am.” The bad accent returned.


The bedroom was a standard affair but it didn’t matter, to him it was a dusty saloon in the far off uncivilized frontier. Years and miles away from here. Clea chuckled as she flew onto the bed, springs and throw pillows bounced with her as her kinetic energy flew into sound and laughter.


“You alright there, missy? Rough as I may be, I wouldn’t want to cause you any stress.”


She propped herself up on elbows, tail tip flicking. “You say that after tossin’ me like a bale of hay?” Vic shrugged before winking at her. A smile alighted her eyes, the green gems just teasing him in the simplest of ways. He needed her, he wanted her everything. However she let him take it.


He wondered how sharp his eyes must be, how wild, how scary. He stalked towards the bed, green iris as his waypoint towards her. She looked so calm, so content. The mattress sagged under his weight after foot and arm were set upon it. He eclipsed the ceiling fan’s light from her form as he towered over her. The bull noticed with intrigue the way their breaths deepened as he brought more of her scent in. She hadn’t showered today, proven by the barest traces of musk lighting up from where Clea lay. He needed that, for all he loved the perfume, the floral and sweet scents she used, nothing beat natural smells to him. Here in the now, or there in the fantasy, she was his. All of it.


“Well, you should let me know now, before I can’t hold myself back anymore, Clea.” He hemmed her in between his elbows as he stared her down, literally. She just smiled before licking his nose. He flinched at the gesture, the unexpected nature spilling out his latent personality.


“Like you’ve ever held back before, Vic.”


“You’ve never asked me to.”


“And I’m not starting now.” Hands and arms whipped out faster than he could react. For all his posturing and size, he really was putty in her hands when she handled the bull’s horns. The minx sought his weak points with such accuracy and verve, she must be just as roaring to go as he was. There wasn’t any shame as he groaned. She loved knowing how she made him feel, he loved letting her know. Her tongue speared deep into his maw and he tasted their past meal on her tongue. He fought back for control that she was quickly seizing, but it was a wasted effort.


Grabbing the bull by the horns was effective, at least as far as he was concerned. Hardly wanting to be passive in getting felt up, he sprang to act and reciprocate. Clea’s ears twitched with the massage as he pulled the sensitive skin to and fro. The shuddering breath that slipped through her snout was not enough for him. Vic wanted her to beg, bolster his ego even more. 


A large paw parted the partition between bed and head as he scooped around her head. All to smash their lips, tongues, and love into a smaller space. The clutches to his keratin spires doubled over, coaxing even more euphoria across his scalp. His remaining elbow gave out in ecstasy. Chests collapsed onto each other.


He felt her, she felt him. Clea always seemed so small to Vic, just a little twig. The blue collar working bull had been so scared when they first met. Trying everything in his power to avoid breaking her. Memories of their first moments together, getting physical and handsy.


Her line about men thinking she was a delicate flower wasn’t a line for the roleplay, it was actually a big insecurity of hers. It has taken a lot of trust and time to know where her limits were, and his too. All this to say, she could take getting crushed by him. And the way her legs gripped around his hips, further cementing their union, was just as much of a sign of her peace with it.


He growled, snorted, pushed his hips into her. His spire flushing out slightly. ‘More, more, more, Clea.’ He wanted everything. He took it. The two taps let him know she needed it back. Precious life-feeding breath was stolen from her, she needed it back. It wasn’t without regret that Vic lifted his frame from her body, but he also needed to breathe.


Deep lungfuls of air swept in and out of him, and Clea was no different.


“Fuck, girl. Why don’t we kiss like that more?” Swirly thoughts and air deprivation broke his concentration, Cowboy Vic took a backseat for a moment.


“But we do.” The dingo huffed out between breaths. He questioned the words, and made his inquiry known with a stare. She giggled and licked his snout before answering. “Oh, come on, Vee. You always take my breath away when we kiss.” Butterflies would have been jealous of the way she fluttered her eyes.


Groans the likes never seen before emerged from the bull’s chest. “You for real? I’ve had cobs with less corn on them.”


“Sue me, I know you love the cheese.”


“Oh, do I?” Vic sassed back.


“Deny it all you want, Cowboy. I’ve seen how you get around dairy.” She flicked the hat still atop his head. The thin plastic thwumped with the impact and echoed about the chamber. The bull couldn’t deny that, he did love dairy. Almost as much as Clea. She knew him too well, he was just denying it to keep up appearances. Some acts were incredibly easy to see through.


“Maybe I do need to hogtie you up when we get back into it?”


“Think I need just a minute more, then I’ll be ready.”


“Take all the time you need, I can’t take your breath away before you get it back.” He would just spend the time feeling her up and nursing the bulge under his pants.


“My breath’s back already, I just love looking at you in that stupid hat.”


“Alright, missy,” Cowboy Vic answered. “If yer gonna be brat, I’m gonna have to punish you.”


“Little ol’ me? What’s a girl to do when a strong bull has her pinned and waiting? Beg?”


His chuckles were sinister. “Sounds like a mighty fine plan to me.”


“Well, I never.”


“Turn around, little lady. I bought yer ass for the evening, I’d like to see it.” It was a travesty to lose sight of her eyes, but the sight of her shapely rear was almost as wonderful. Anachronistic black leggings gripped his wife’s hindquarters, teasing the treasure underneath.


Her tail wagged as a sign of her anticipation, all waiting for him to get his own ass in gear. But why not have his own fun?


He sank down on top of her, aligning his bovine hips with her lithe canine ones. She sighed as his weight pressed down upon her, their bed creaking under settling weight. Clea’s nape flashed back with dusty brown fur, pulling delightful thoughts to the forefront of his mind. The devil himself couldn't have stopped himself from kissing her scruff. Shoulders relaxed, weight fell, breath caught. Peck after peck.


“What a fine girl. I'm gonna take real good care of you tonight.” Husky tones threaded across the air between them. Hips pressed together, thighs frotted as he ground his groin against her rear. The only response was to huff and grip at sheets. Pride swelled as her tail tried to wag against his stomach. “I'm gonna make you scream my name. You'll be walking out of here funny.”


“Vic.” Need burrowed their way into his ears.


“I'm gonna ruin you for all those other men. Yer gonna wish it was me instead. Yer gonna have to bite your lip to stop from moaning for your cowboy.”


“Vic, I…” She was beyond acting anymore. True passions rising buoyantly. All the better for it, his sweet nothings were real. As real as he could be.


“I said yer ass is mine tonight. Do you know what I'm saying?”


She nodded into the bed, her hands clasped in prayer. Every fiber of his being knew it was for him to hurry up. All the more reason to hold out. Anticipation rushing through himself as well. The pulses of his lively heart making itself known against the hems of his pants. He wanted her, needed her, all of her.


“Are you ready then? I'm going to ride you harder than my station. Break you like a wild bronco. I won't stop.”


“Vic…”


“Clea..”


“Please…” her melodic voice dripped, wet and sticky.


“Oh, darlin’. You can do better than that.” Another kiss to her neck. Another pump of his hips into her. “Tell me you want me.”


“I want you.”


“Good.”


“I need you.”


“Better.”


“Take me now, you cow!”


“Best.”


Friction of sliding clothes heated his skin. Discarded fabric that served no purpose anymore. Fine golden fur dotted her body, all on display for him. And he ate her form, the creases and folds of pelt and hair, the anatomy of a lover. Costumes discarded, yet he kept the hat. He was her cowboy tonight.


She raised her ass, head and chest pressed to the mattress. Her tail still wagged, charging the air with the scent of her need. And it smelled heavenly to the bull. It looked heavenly to the bull. It felt godly to touch.


Thick fingers grasped at her thighs and her hips, an oasis among the sea of lovely things. He leaned in close. Scent and sights of sex growing in his vision and nasal cavity. Control drained as he approached her. Craving this just as much as she was.


Broad tongue swiped across her lower lips, the taste of her peppered his mind. He was only vaguely aware of the noise she made, too intent on his prize to pay her any mind now. Vic’s lick rose up and up, passing into the valley of her ass. The taste of fur and sweat and musk was replaced with plastic and chemicals. The feeling of the rigid plug she’d been wearing for who knows how long today. He flicked at the plastic, teasing the base and his wife in one go.


He dug down for another lick, just as slow and deliberate. Her tail wags bopped him in the face, and it took a moment of recoil to comprehend and appreciate her excitement. The bull leaned back to appreciate her grandeur again. Small droplets of glistening saliva refracted the ceiling light back into his eyes.


“Damn, girl. You were a fine purchase.” Her tail wagging intensified. He slobbered on his right pointer finger a moment before teasing her cunt with it. Smoothly, lazily, slipping in and around the hot folds. “A fine little pussy, sweatin’ like a pig under the sun. I reckon a number of men would brave the desert without water for a whore like you.” Her knees pressed back, chasing more of that touch. Her vent swallowed the digit to his lowest knuckle. It felt hot and wet, loosening up as he rotated in soft circles. The rest of his hand pressing at her lips.


She ground against his hand, humping against his palm. He chuckled at her vibrating tail. “What a good slut. But..” Vic pressed against the plastic base of her plug with his thumb. Pressing it further against the stretched limits. The elicited gasp and way her back arched even more couldn’t have been a better reaction. “I bought yer ass. Or had you forgotten?”


“No..” She said as her head shook into the mattress. His finger slipped with a squelching noise as he removed it from her. It tasted amazing, bitter, biting, delicious.


“Turn over.” There was no hesitation in her movements, eyes wide as they whipped back into his view. Breasts bouncing with momentum before settling, the areola pert. He winked at her and tipped his silly hat. “Ma’am.” Clea kissed the air at him. “You relaxed enough?” He inquired. She breathed deeply.


“I will be.” The barest trepidation in her tone.


“I’ll get ready then.” The bed squeaked as he fiddled to the edge towards his night stand.


“Don’t keep me waiting too long, cowboy.”


“Yes, ma’am!” Drawers pulled open. A little metallic square condom wrapper and a tube of lube were quickly extracted. His own shaft had been neglected until he pulled along it. Physical stimulation waking the beast slumbering below the surface.


“Mmmm,” his ears picked up from his side. Vic shot her a gaze, the way she lounged and longed for him. He almost had half a mind to snuggle up close and kiss every inch of her instead, however, thoughts from his other head won out. He did turn to jerk off to her directly though.


“Missy see something she likes?” Bouncing his inflated cock while her stares inflated his ego.


“The girls said you were a beast, but you’re a true, blue bull down there?”


“Trying to butter me up? Cause it’s working.” The bovine teased with a couple of flirtatious raises of his eyebrows.


“And I told you not to make me wait, cowboy.” He tore the wrapper open with his smiling teeth, vaporous fumes of machined plastic met his nose. He took his time rolling it down his dick, if not to just tease more seconds of stares from her. Give his dick a couple more pumps through thin, stretched plastic. 


“Well, I beg your pardon, ma’am. I’ll get back to that ruttin’ I ordered.”


“You better.”


He pounced her way, through with being teased and teasing. He grinned greedily down at her as he laid atop her. “Alright, missy, I’ve had enough of that smart mouth of yours. If you aren’t screamin’ and moanin’ my name. I ain’t gonna hear it.”


“Oh, Vic! Please!” Sarcasm pooled in her mouth and sank in his ears. He tsked before pounding the mattress inches away from her head. Clea silenced herself quite quickly at that. Growls from his dormant beast ancestors flew from his throat. Their noses centimeters from each other. The knowledge with how her breath was pushing out her agape mouth, in fear, excitement, or anticipation or combination of all three. The reins were back in his hands. He moved his hand down her flank. Trimmed, but coarse nails scratched at her delicate coat and skin. Eyes locked in death stares.


Consideration for her safety notwithstanding, he vowed to not hold back. Assertive pulls manually placed the back of her knee at his shoulder. Exposing everything she had, everything he wanted. Vic’s paws seized her flesh, round muscular mounds gave way to the strength in his palm, tugging the malleable posterior, his wife’s ass. Which for intents and purposes was his ass tonight, in character or not.


Bovine hands toyed at the plug she had stuffed up her tail hole, rolling it round and round. The edges of his cheeks hurt more as he grinned deeper, loving every twitch of her face and every hitch of her breath. it popped out as it came to the greatest width. Clea moaned into his chest. He tossed the hard plastic aside without any more thought. Thick, sausage like fingers stuffed their way into her. The immediate ring gave way easily as she was invaded.


“Mmmmm, Vic!” Music.


He wedged her open with two prongs and relished in the way the muscles bit and fought against him. Not that he’d lose when his prize was within his grasp. She was loose, she needed to be looser. He wanted her to be looser.


“Ready for a third?” Clea didn’t register the question as writhes wracked her form. Each jab and prod eliciting more and more cute moans. The hisses she made burned his own fire greater. If two garnered this reaction, a third would summon more, but not without a dollop of lube . Liberal drips of the cold, slippery stuff coated his three inner fingers.


“Vic, ahh, please.” He snorted as he fashioned a triangle of fingers and returned to digging. He spun, prodded, wiggled, speared, everywhere, anywhere he could reach. Claws came for his flesh, scratching their way through his shaggy fur. The lady’s other leg wrapped about his other side, permitting more access of her nethers to her lover. Wet sounds and noises accompanied the symphony of moans from her mouth.


Vic was silent, wary of each and every reaction. Ever searching out for new zones to please her. The sweet scent of her arousal bubbled up from her skin. Each breath softened his heart, the stern attitude of Cowboy Vic didn’t hold up to scrutiny under assault of his senses. But he buried that down as well as he could, just as he jabbed all phalanges as deep as possible in her ass. The groan and involuntary flex of her loose rim was a grand source of feedback, the subconscious statement to his physical prowess. “Does the little lady lust for more?”


“Always…” She moaned. “Fuck me…” He nuzzled her snout with his own as she languidly licked at his.


“Yippee ki-yay.” He responded. Wet sounds and creaking bed springs followed his motions as he readjusted. Clea rested on her back still, legs held high above his shoulders. Plastic creaked as he slathered more lube on his shaft.


The dingo below him looked so very flushed, eyes half closed and waiting for him to move on. Patience wasn’t in his cards either though as he set his cock to her winking hole. “Last chance, Clea. I won’t stop once I start. Tell me what you want.”


She squinted, brow and eyes firming up. “Fuck me, you cow. Make me scream.”


“Gladly.” His first thrust wasn’t slow, or shallow, or soft. As much prep as they did, her ass gripped him hard. The suddenness of a rather indelicate intrusion, the throes of passion, the desperate horny need, he saw it all on her face. Eyes widening, maw widening as she groaned, rather unladylike noises echoing in the bedroom.


Not that he was feeling anything less than bliss. Spasms upon his sensitive organ, constrictions along her entire tunnel, it all set him ablaze. He balled fists full of sheets in his hand. His breath seeped in through crunching teeth and molars. Steeped in the warm inner most part of his wife, his whore, and everything in between. He needed more. He wanted more. He wanted everything.


“Goddamm, Clea.” Her breaths were short and shallow. He pulled back from her. Pleasant moans crooned from her. His next thrust was just as quick and strong, and again met with tremors along his dick. He built up momentum, pistoning fully in and out of her. Paws gripped at his forearms, the touches and claws dug their way down into his pelt. Sharp incisions timed with the rocks of the bovine’s hips.


“Vic, fuck me…”


“Say that again!”


“Vic.”

“Say. It. Again.” He pounded each word into her. Slipping her legs off around his shoulders so he could be closer to her.


“Fuck me, Vic.”


“Again!”


“Fuck me!”


“Again!!!”


“Fuck me, Vic! Fuck me like the whore I am, you fucking beast.” He redoubled his efforts. Doubled his speed, doubled his strength, doubled whatever he could to double her pleasure. All so she’d scream for him more and more.


“Vic! More, ah, ah. Vic…” Her words became more and more incoherent. But he understood them. His eyes had long since closed. The overwhelming presences flooding his senses were too stimulating. His snout buried in her breast, the lovely boobs jiggled with each thrust into her ass. He felt shockwaves resound through her and back to him, cementing the cycle between them, their bodies as echo chambers.


It was too much, always too much and never enough. He still wanted everything, but it couldn’t last forever. And he couldn’t hold onto her more tightly than he was, squeezing her as tightly as he dared to. Just steps from going over, moments from peaking over. He just needed her to sing in his ear, scream his name again.


“Clea, I fucking can’t. I’m gonna…” His rhythm faltered. Mixed signals crossing from his brain on whether to go deeper or pull back. A grand vice gripped his horns, the triggering pleasure broke his composure. Eyes burst wide open. Green feral iris came into view.


“Fucking do it, Vic. Ruin me, cow. Fuck me until you can’t move! Give me everything.” The words spat his way, rending his complaint in two.


 He moo’d, low, loud. All as he felt wave after wave of his second wind burst through him. “Fucking bitch, course I was gonna give you everything. Just you wait. You’ll be begging for it.” The mask of the role returned. He was in charge, he couldn’t bow out yet. Not while he still had more to give her.


The bull went back to the rut, the blunt thrusts deep in her. Wet slaps and thumping thighs returned. He breathed her in, sweat and musk of two beasts in passion stank the air. And through it all, he held her gaze. Those emerald gems rooting his thoughts and focus in the most enrapturing way. Everything, that’s what she wants. She’ll get it. His lust, his throes, his longing, his strength, his cock, his body, his sweat, his touch. Everything, including his love. The bull bashed his lips to hers. Locking them together in a second way. She let him in.


He tasted dinner on her teeth, he felt her shoulders in his hand and her hands on his horns, he heard her muted moans through their bond. She was everywhere and everything to him. Nothing existed but her. And he wanted it all for the rest of time. Yet Vic’s limits were close, only so much stimulation was possible before boiling over. Vic didn’t stop this time, the bull charged forward.


He thrust deep, as deep as his strength could take him. Their bodies tilted back as he pierced her. His eruption came with fireworks. The blinding feeling of orgasm shutting everything else out.


Sensations slowly started to return. Heaving lungs. Tense muscles. A second body in his arms. Reactionary twitches as his dick tried to deposit all of his seed in Clea. He felt woozy, immediately exhausted by exertion. Soft licks along his brow felt miraculous. The bitter scent of love and sweat seeped into his nostrils. His legs and arms felt weak, so he laughed.


“You good? Cause I can’t move.” She giggled sweetly.


“What a good cow, doing just as he was asked.” The licks resumed.


“I thought I was supposed to be in charge here.” He whispered, the rules of their game coming back to mind.


“Please, you can’t fool me.” He cast his gaze upwards, just to look at Clea’s charming face. Plastic and paper bent as she grabbed the hat that was wedged between his horns, the flimsy prop was quickly placed on her head. The pink glittery costume decoration looked a lot better on her head than his. “We both know you’re the cow, and I’m the cowgirl round these parts.” The bull lamented that her accent was better than his ever was. He sighed and rolled his eyes. “But there are perks to being my cow.”


“Such as?” Vic asked, unprepared for the answer. Both eyes nearly rolled back into his head. Fine, rounded claws rubbing along his skull where the horns break through his skin. He moo’d, soft and sweet. And then it was gone. “No, wait!” He said. The touches quickly returned as he settled into her, using her chest as pillow.


“Told ya.” She snickered.


“Well, it’s a pretty good perk.” Light lips pressed against his forehead. “But did you enjoy it, Clea?” He wondered aloud.


“You have to ask?”


With a shrug. “Well…”


“I loved it. You made a great Cowboy.”


“Then could we do that one again?”


Her humming laugh sang to his soul. “Of course, but maybe we should get you a better hat first.”