Okay Johnny, just breathe deep. 
Remember your training. 
Remember that this is a pretty well-paying job, especially for someone who can’t even put ‘Some college’ on his resume.
Besides, how awkward can it possibly be?
Well I wouldn’t have to wait much longer to find out. The door I was standing in front of opened and the person who was quite obviously my client stood in the frame, tightening the ties on the robe I guess she just threw on. Yeah, my first client was a woman, although I’m not sure if that would make it more or less awkward than if it had been a ram.
“Oh, please tell me you’re from the salon?” the middle-aged ewe asked, and even I was a complete newbie at this I could tell by the thickness of her coat that she’d been on a waiting list for a while.
“Yes ma’am. Johnny… I mean John Crocker, pleased to meet you…” I said, trying not to blush after introducing myself with the name I’d been called by for as long as I can remember. But I was an adult now, although just barely, and I’d been determined to use my given name to give of an impression of a mature young professional. Well, so much for that.
“Oh thank goodness! I’m Bethany, Bethany Mueller. Come in, come in…” she said, obviously quite eager to be free of the fluffy coat with the early spring we were having. “I can’t tell you how glad I am to see you! It feels like ages since I put my name down for a shearing, but everywhere I called seems to be booked solid.” She said, a chit-chat tone that I had to admit was helping make me feel more comfortable about this. It was starting to seem like a much less sordid job than what I imagined. I guess my brain had conjured up lurid scenes accompanied by the sound of a buzzing clipper, soft moans and a slow sax, but Bethany just seemed like one of the middle-aged women that I’d grown up around.
“Yeah, it’s the early heat. I guess everyone figured they had a few more weeks to make an appointment.” I said, knowing it was the avalanche in appointments that I got this job. Not to mention the crash course – a week sheering feral sheep, a few instructional videos and I was given my uniform and my kit and sent out to make my fortune.
Now in case you don’t have as many caprines in your home town as I do, you probably need some clearing up at this point. I work (as of today) in a saloon catering to anthros, and sheep are very good clients, even if they do come by only about three times a year. Although to be honest, very few actually come by. I don’t really understand it, but getting sheared is a bit intimate for them (especially for the ewes, apparently) and they prefer to have it done at home. And since it requires only some basic equipment and a lot of space, salons are more than happy to send their workers on house-calls.
“I’ve prepared the usual set-up in the living room, just there to your right…” she said, and I just nodded as I followed behind her. It was pretty much like in the training videos – just a large patch of carpet cleared of any furniture with a heavy plastic sheet of the sort painters use covering it. The windows had been closed and the blinds shut, a necessary precaution considering what was to follow. Bethany took her place in the middle of the sheet while I took a seat to put on my shoe covers. Cleanliness was the key here, especially considering how much the wool of an anthro sheep went for.
“So you live here alone?” I asked, trying to make some small talk while trying to get the covers over my sneakers. And I had to admit one scenario I was worried about was someone walking in while I was doing my job. The door had been locked, but a family member would still be able to get in with a key. Such as a husband.
“Mmm-hmm. My daughter went to college the summer before last so I became an empty-nester just before turning forty. And of course I’ve been a divorcee for ages. Not a nasty divorce, mind you, and to tell the truth we were probably too young to get married, but with little Tabitha on the way I supposed it seemed like the right thing to do…”  she said, chattering happily while I looked for the nearest power outlet to plug in my trimmer.
“Okay I think that’s got it…” I said, plugging the thing in and taking a deep breath before looking up.
“Ready when you are!” the ewe chirped, and I saw that she had already flung away her robe and was standing there in nothing but the thick woolly coat. All an all, I figured I’d be fine. She had a nice enough figure for a woman her age but… well my worst fears were something like a college-aged ewe, or one in her twenties. Seeing a naked woman like that would have been… stimulating… enough without having to run my hands over her naked body as a part of my job. I’d had this dream a few nights ago where I had an appointment with an pretty young ewe and I was getting harder and harder the more of her toned young body I exposed under the thick layer of cloud-soft wool. Ever since then I’d been seriously terrified of that really happening at work, wondering if I’d just get giggled at or possibly accused of sexual harassment.
But I figured I’d be fine with Bethany. She was a Suffolk which meant that she had short black fur covering her face, her arms about half-way up to her elbows and her feet half-way up her calves. And considering how thick her coat was, the dark limbs looked almost comically skinny. She had a pretty enough face, with hair as white as her coat that probably fell down in loose curls when it wasn’t tied up in a messy bun to keep it out of the way. All in all a slightly silly and quite pleasant middle aged woman, something I figured I could deal with more easily than a caprine co-ed moaning softly as I ran my trimmer along her firm young body.
“Do you want me from behind?” she asked, and the question had my eyes going wide for a split second before I remembered why I had a naked woman in front of me asking me that.
“Uh, yeah. Sorry if I seem a bit awkward but this is my first time… I mean you’re my first client!” I stammered out. I have no idea why I’d sad ‘my first time’, and I suspect that a woman asking me if I wanted her from behind had derailed my thoughts a little.
“Oh? Well don’t worry, I’ve been through this plenty of times. Just take your time and I’m sure you’ll do fine…” she said, genuinely putting me at ease.
Right then, the videos had said that with anthro sheep you need to think of the fleece sort of like taking off clothing – you take the top off and then the bottom. I switched the clippers on and touched the trimmer against the ewe’s lower back, just a few inches above the base of her tail. She stayed perfectly still and I had no trouble following the contour of her spine, being careful not to nick the skin until I reached her neck, where the fleece stopped and the short black fur started, covering her neck and stopping where fur gave way to hair. I went back to her waist and made my next cut just right of the first one, noticing that the fleece was staying together, and after my next stroke I saw what looked like a thick, fluffy sheet falling away from the finely-shorn fuzz covering Bethany’s back. All in all, it was really starting to look like I was taking some sort of thick, tight sweater off her, which was a relief, but the shape this was revealing quite frankly wasn’t. By the time I had half her back bare I could see that there were curves under that wool that I hadn’t noticed, such as the one along her waist. 
I would later learn that even though the wool did grow pretty uniformly, the fact that anthro sheep wore clothing meant that the fleece got slightly compacted wherever fabric pressed against them. Such as around the hips and the front of the chest, at least as far as ewes were concerned. This meant that when their coat was fully grown, they tended to look fairly dumpy. And Bethany hadn’t looked all that shabby even with her coat on her. Now that I’d done her back I could feel even the hand not holding the electric clippers trembling.
“Uh, could you lift your arms, please?” I said, glad that at least my voice was still calm and steady.
“Certainly. You’re doing fine, by the way…”
Well I definitely appreciated that, but I was only barely doing fine, and I’d just finished a pretty easy part. Well, the arms weren’t too hard – a line from just behind one shoulder, and then you sort of opened it up like a sleeve. The trick was to have as many pieces that sort of held together as much as possible. But with the back and arms done, all that was left were pretty… tricky parts. I’d walked around the ewe and while her front still didn’t seem all that arousing, I remembered the toned, firm back and surprisingly slim waist I’d revealed, and was a bit worried what was buried under that white fluff. Bethany apparently just thought I was a bit stuck on how to continue.
“Usually the boys just start in the middle, just above the belt, so to speak. Then you clear either side of the belly before moving up to the chest, which is usually the trickiest bit…” she said calmly, and I had to admit it was pretty ridiculous that the person standing naked in front of a stranger wasn’t the one feeling the least bit awkward.
But I did as she was told, running the trimmer along the middle of her abs and then along either side, exposing a snow-white belly that now looked just barely rounded now that the wool was off it. And that left me with a very tricky area just above. They were still pretty well hidden, apart from the two almost-black nipples, but with her stomach, back and waist revealed I could make a guess at what was under that pile of fluff.
“I’ll just get some band-aids out of my kit bag. For… you know…” I said, stumbling around my words. Now I had a small first aid kit in there, but the band-aids I was referring to weren’t in it, because they were meant to prevent cuts and nicks, rather than treat them.
“Actually, do you mind if we don’t?” she asked before I’d managed to dig the things out. “It’s just that… well you’re doing quite a good job and you’ve got a nice, steady hand. And I’m pretty sure the reason salons insist on those things is more for propriety’s sake than actual protection, which is a fine idea until you have to pull them off…” she said, wincing a little at the thought.
“Well, I guess it’s your call…” I said, trying to sound more nonchalant than I really felt. After all, I had three of the adhesive tapes for each client – two big round ones, and a wide, long strip. I had a feeling that I would regret not insisting on that last one, but I figured my discomfort was nothing compared to having to yank a band-aid from down there…
“Oh you really are a dear! Don’t worry, my lips are sealed…” she said, and for a moment I wasn’t sure if this nice lady was fucking with me.
“I’ll need you to lean forward a bit for the next part…” I said giving her a benefit of the doubt.
“Oh, of course. That’s why I put the foil near the wall…” she said, putting her palms flat against it with her back bent forward. This meant that the things I’d be shearing next were conveniently hanging. Sure, I could have lifted them, but this was considered the more polite and less awkward approach. I took a deep breath, noticing for the first time how much the air in the house had changed. Normally shearing a sheep just makes things smell more of fur, but as the fleece was slowly pulled from Bethany’s body I could smell her scent as well as the fruity aroma of either her shampoo or conditioner. Well, feral sheep don’t use those, so it’s no wonder this sort of wool sells for serious money.
“Can you get down there okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine…” I replied, getting under her on one knee and gently placing the trimmer at the top of her chest. Due to the tricky topography, I wasn’t expected to remove this part in a single sheet, so I just started doing thick strips from just below her neck to the pace I could tell her bust began. Chunks of fluff began to fall around me, but I was still holding it together. I mean, it’s not like this is the first pair I’d ever handled, and not even the first one that had fur. I’d cleared the top of her chest, and the sparser strip along the bottom of the ribcage, and once I’d shaved a deep gouge between them there was only one thing left. Or two things, depending how you looked at it…
I put the trimmer at the top of the right one, and pushed it very gently down, skipping over the areolae and what I couldn’t help but notice was a stiffening nipple, before pushing the clipper back where the fur resumed. Now as I mentioned, I’d learned later about the way an anthro ewe’s fleece gets compressed, but back then I was shocked to see just how thin and dense the layer of wool I was removing was, which meant that the heavy mass on the ewe’s chest was not sweater material, but rather sweater-filler. By the time I’d laid the heavy mound bare I was glad that from her vantage point the ewe could only see the back of my head.
“Don’t worry, you’re doing great…”
“That’s… good to hear…” I replied, fighting to keep my voice steady. Good God, I’d never seen one this big!
“It’s just that I can feel you breathing a little harder down there, so I thought you might be getting nervous, this being your first time and all…”
“No, just… being a little extra careful.”
“Mmmh, well I can certainly appreciate that.”
The next one was easier, in the sense that I knew what to expect, but having the ewe’s truly majestic mammaries dangling so close to me, and being in a position that I had to touch them at least a little (shaving something that jiggles so much is harder than you think) was having a predictable effect on me. It was all I could do to fight to keep my breathing steady. And fighting the urge to sniff. Damn, she really did smell nice…
“Okay, I’m all done with this part…”
“Ooh, that’s a relief! My back was starting to get stiff…” she said before straightening up in front of me and crossing her arms behind her head as she stretched out, giving me a view that acutely made my jaw drop for a second as those tear-drop shaped breasts were pulled up high on her chest. A part of me realized that at her age standing bent over like that for as long as she did would make her back uncomfortable stiff and that it only made sense to stretch a little. But another part of me was becoming pretty certain that she really was fucking with me. 
“Mhh, I have to say for a first–timer you did very nice work…” she said, and I quite frankly had to agree. Some of the bits had been tricky, but the parts of her that weren’t covered in short black fuzz were now covered in a perfectly even layer of very short and very dense white fluff that gave the impression that her skin was made of marshmallow. “So as long as you’re down there, would you like to keep going? Or we could take a little break if you’d prefer…”
“No, I can keep going just fine…” I said, maybe a little too quickly. But I desperately wanted to give a certain something a chance to go down before I got up and risked the ewe spotting it.
“Okay then…” she chirped, turning around and standing with her feet shoulder-width apart. What was currently facing me was still more or less a ball of fluff, but I was a bit worried what my clippers would uncover once I started taking that fleece off. “You going top-down?” she asked once I’d finished her tail, which I knew would be the easy part compared to what was to follow.
“Uh, yeah…”
“Okay, then let me help you out a little…” she said, before putting her hands on her knees and sticking her rear out a little. “The cheeks are easier to work with when the muscles are taut. Just don’t take too much time. At my age I can only keep this up for so long…”
The change in posture was… well less than modest, but it really did help. Her cheeks had parted a little, just enough to show me where the fur ended and bare skin began. Sitting was another of those things feral sheep don’t do very often, and that also served to compress fleece. What my trimmer was slowly revealing was quite a generous rump, soft looking but rounded out just enough… just enough to make matters worse! Fuck Johnny, will you focus!? At this point by the time you’re done you’ll either be pitching a circus tent or have a very awkward wet-spot to explain!
I did my best to keep my hand steady, struggling to both do a good job and at the same time not think about the job I was doing. I’d managed the seat, and the calves were certainly no problem. I’d even been fine with most of the thighs but I’m pretty sure I was once again breathing a little hard by the time I had to move on to the in-seam, so to speak. It only then occurred to me that I definitely shouldn’t have left that part for last. I did my best to keep my hands from shaking as I did the insides of the thighs and then the little bits of fleece on either side of the thing that would have been covered by a band-aid if I hadn’t tried to be a gentleman. Since I did, ironically enough, my face was now mere inches away from the ewe’s charcoal-grey slit.
“All done!” I said, heaving a heavy sigh and trying to keep a straight face as the ewe held a hand out to help me up. It was like having an inappropriate day-dream in class and then being called out to solve a problem on the chalkboard in front of everyone!
“Ooh, I can’t tell you what a relief this is. Goodness, just look at the mess I’d been carrying all this time…” she said, gesturing to the honestly quite impressive pile of fluff around the two of us. She stepped out of it and took out the pin holding the bun in place, shaking out a mess of shoulder-length white hair. 
“Do you need any help with this?” I asked, gesturing to the pieces of her fleece, big and small, strewn over the plastic cover. Anything to keep her eyes away from me, really, at least for a little while longer. I mean, I was sure she was going to put her robe back on any moment now…
“Ooh, yes please! You grab those two corners over there, and I’ll grab these, then we just tie them up in a bundle. I’ve got a friend coming over later to pick the thing up.”
“Really? I thought most of this stuff wound up on auction?” I said, carefully pulling the ends up so that the white fluff pooled up in the middle of the nylon cover.
“Oh Laura always gives me a fair price, and I get the satisfaction of helping out a local business. Besides, she also spins some of this into yarn for me. A lot of the times it will get sorted by color and quality and mixed up, but with her I’m sure what I get is guaranteed 100% me…” she explained while tying the thing up. “I like knitting, although I end up giving most of my work away. But it’s a great feeling when you can give someone a present you made yourself, and at the same time have it be a very fancy sort of gift…”
“Well, you’ve paid up online when you made the booking, so if there’s nothing else…” I began, hoping to scurry away without the tent under my belt getting noticed.
“Well, there is one thing… Oh, I always get bashful about asking but… well there’s a sort of special tip I like to give you boys. You see, a few hours after sheering my skin is always incredibly sensitive, and it’s a thrill just to get touched. You’ve been a perfect professional so far, but… would you like to do something a little unprofessional?” she asked, smiling impishly and standing just a foot away from me with her hands clasped behind her back and her shoulders squared, perfectly framing those two glorious marshmallows. 
I wasn’t sure if I understood her, since my brain wasn’t getting as much blood as it would have liked to make a decision like this. In the end, it wasn’t my brain that made it. One moment I was getting ready to pack up and leave, and the next I had my hands on the ewe’s breasts, amazed at how small they looked resting on Bethany’s pillowy mounds. And I’m pretty sure she wasn’t kidding about being over-sensitive after being shorn. I’ve had girls I was with make that sound, but it always took a lot more than a simple grope to get them to make it!
"I take it that's a 'yes'?" she said, smiling down at the sight of me trying to handle her handful. "Come on, bedroom's upstairs..." she said. I followed zombie-like, eyes glued to her snowy-white rump as she climbed the stairs ahead of me, hip swaying with every step. Once there she helped me out of my clothes, ears perking as she seemed to approve of the young man standing naked in front of her.

"Up on the bed now. Just lie down and let me do all the work..." she said, and I found my muscles responding to the tone before the words had properly registered. Despite the fact she was buck naked and openly eyeing me, it had been a sort of 'mother knows best' tone that had apparently been drilled too deep into my psyche.
"Well I see you're already rearin' to go. But would you mind getting me ready? I feel a bit anxious about taking something so big without a bit of prep..." she asked, running one palm along my shaft and climbing into bed without bothering to wait for an answer.
"Uh, sure..." I replied and in the blink of an eye had the matronly ewe straddling my head, an already wet slit less than a foot from my face.
"Oh you are a darling!" she cooed, her long ears flicking as she slowly descended, pressing her messy muff against my mouth and sighing as her folds parted just a little. "Use your hands too honey. Doesn't matter where, it just feels so amazing to be touched and stroked after shearing..."
I didn't need to be told twice since my palms had been itching to feel those amazing curves the ewe was sporting. With her clit booping my nose I stuck my tongue out and let it slide past those plump folds, licking up the honey dripping from the ewe's sex even as my hands rose. They settled on her thighs, earning me another flick of those floppy ears as I let my palms glide over that fine, short and extremely dense fuzz. It gave the already voluptuous woman an indescribably cuddly quality, and something about the way her shorn skin felt left my hands tingling, and quite curious to feel more.
I ran them along the thick thighs, making sure not to slack off on my tongue work as I reached those big round cheeks, drawing a moan from the smiling ewe's throat as my fingers squeezed on reflex. They were soft but with a fair bit of bounce, and the sheer size of the caprine behind meant there was plenty for curious hands to feel up. I ended up just stroking and kneading the ewe's magnificent ass, so lost in my groping that I'd failed to notice she was moving a little, gently sliding her slit up and down the lower half of my face. I figured it was harmless, just the ewe getting into it, but when her muff started moving up far enough to cover both my mouth and nose every now and again, I figured I better try and get some control.
It took a lot of willpower but I managed to get my hands to slide up from that glorious behind until I had a grip on her hips. The idea that I could get a grip on her this way seemed a bit unrealistic, as I realized just what a big girl the ewe was. She was grinding herself against me now, her eyes lidded as she looked down at me with little pants and gasps leaving her parted lips. It was a look that made me feel like I'd break her heart if I asked her to slow down, so I just did my best trying to hold those child-bearing hips steady as she proceeded to glaze more and more of my face with the honey dripping from between her folds. I wasn’t sure if the ewe was just going to get her kicks from straddling my face, but she stopped short of coming and laid that buxom body down on the mattress next to me.
"Come on sugar, don't leave me waiting..." she said, sprawled out on the bed.
Lying on her back changed the way her body looked. The pear-shaped breasts were now spread out over her chest - like obscenely large half-melted marshmallows, save for the dark areolae and the thick, inviting nipples sticking out of the little dark patches. It also served to make her belly look flatter, and while I had to admit that the bit of plush had looked good on her, with it gone there was nothing but an hourglass figure that went from an eye-popping chest to flared hips and thick but shapely thighs. It was a body I should have sent ages admiring, but with her taste on my tongue and her eyes beckoning I chose carnal sensation over aesthetic appreciation. A little too eager, I practically scrambled over her but she seemed to find my enthusiasm endearing. I was bracing myself with one hand on the mattress and about to use the other to guide myself in when she stopped me.
"No honey, not like that..."
"S-sorry?" I said, a bit confused.
"I told you about how my skin is all tingly so soon after a shear? I wanna feel you in me and on me sweetie. Don't worry, I'm a big girl, and with enough padding to make sure we're both comfy..." she cooed, brushing my law with one hand as the other slid along my back.
I'm not very bulky but I do work out, so it's been a while since I was able to just rest my whole weight on a girl without her grunting in protest. But the ewe under me wasn't a girl, and as I laid my hard body against her soft one her sigh had my shaft twitching against her mons. Fuck, that freshly shorn fuzz felt even better against my privates than it did against my palm, and even with her steamy sex inches away I was tempted to ask for a boobjob. Not that it looked like I was going anywhere. Bethany hugged me close to her, pressing the back of my head and pushing my face against her neck, shuddering at the feel of warm breath against skin that had been trapped under heavy fleece until a few minutes ago.
I had just enough room to move my hips, letting my tip slide a little lower, trailing wetness across the down-soft fuzz until I felt the electric contact of skin on wet skin. She cooed as if I needed encouraging at his point, opening those shapely legs a little wider to catch me. I pulled back just a little, enough to feel my tip graze the top of her hood, drawing a gasp from the ewe that turned into a moan as I pushed forward and sank in. After the tongue-work the dark folds parted around my tip, wet warmth engulfing me as I groaned into Bethany's neck.
Laying on top of the motherly ewe, I no longer regretted not asking about a boobjob. It would have been amazing, but as I felt her walls grip me as if they never wanted to let me go, I knew there was nothing to compare to this. I had never been with an older woman, let alone a mother, and maybe I was a jerk for expecting her to be a bit loose, but nothing could be further from the truth. I pushed the rest of myself in gently, and was surprised when my crotch met hers with nothing buy happy coos from the buxom ewe. It usually takes a bit of time and effort for me to work the last inch or so into a girl but I seemed to be a perfect fit for the motherly sheep holding me tight in every sense of the word. I looked up in time to see her looking down at me, and to have her lips pressed against mine. It was a playful kiss, affection rather than romantic passion, but her mouth tasted sweet, her lips were soft and I took my time kissing her back.
Bethany wasn't kidding around when she said she was well cushioned. Her breasts in particular were pillowy enough to take my weight comfortable, squished between us to the point I could feel her nipples poking against my pecs, pushed up so far that I could have wedged my chin in her cleavage. During the kiss I started grinding against her, and when she started moving her hips to meet mine I knew she was impatient for more. I slid out as far as I could, imagining those plump dark labia clinging to me before I slid back in to an approving sigh from the buxom ewe. My next thrust was just as deep but a little harder, and since I got no complaint I started bucking into her hard enough to make things bounce. Once I did her moans, gasps and sighs all melted together, her arm still tight around me as our bodies rubbed together. Her shorn coat made her feel like a warm cloud against me, and I could only imagine how it felt for her. 
Good, I bet because the ewe was soon writhing in an attempt to rub herself against me as much as she could. Fuck, how did this happen? I walked into the home of a cute but somewhat dumpy-shaped housewife, now I'm being crushed against the bombshell body of a woman hungry for everything a young man in his prime can give her. Young as I am, it had been a few years since my first time, but in these years I'd tamed my pubescent urge to hump like mad into something smoother and more sensual. As I slowly picked up my tempo I kept my eyes on Bethany's face, on the lookout for any wince or sign of discomfort.
"That's it baby, harder!" she moaned.
So much for discomfort. At a point most girls would have been telling me to slow down, this woman was goading me into releasing everything that was pent up inside me on her writhing body. Things were getting wet down there, a sure sign I was doing a good job as smacks filled the room each time I drove my cock into the slippery warmth that felt like the only place it belonged. Everything I had, as rough as I could give it, and still no sign from the ewe that it was too much or too hard. As a sheen of sweat covered my back the air of the room felt cool, a sharp contrast to the heat of the curvaceous body under me. I felt Bethany's legs lift, making sure I could reach as deep inside her as possible, finally folding together behind me as the moaning momma-sheep wrapped herself around me.
God, no wonder she preys on young salon boys if this is what took to satisfy her. I was in the prime of youth, fit and in great shape and even I felt like I'd be wiped out by the time we were done. But a few minutes after, still humping like a machine on full tilt I realized that the risk of exhaustion wasn't the only reason one should pace themself in bed. Fuck, and I wasn't going anywhere, was I? Bethany was clinging to me as hard as he could, pressing her body against mine and thrilling in the contact on bare-on-freshly shorn skin. I stopped dead but even without her bucking against me I wasn't sure it would have helped even if the horned up woman under me hadn't been bucking her hips. After the longest several seconds of my life my efforts to hold back a breaking dam failed and I groaned long and deep, feeling my cock flex against the slick ovine love-glove gripping it. The ewe hold me as she cooed in my ear, but those weren’t the sound I was hoping to coax from her. I should have been embarrassed, this hasn't happened to me in years, but there is just no way to biologically feel bad when you're in the embrace of a curvy, sexy woman in every sense of the word, feeling her body take everything you could give it. It was bliss, it was mind-blowing, but when it was over things got awkward fast.
"S-sorry I... guess it's been a while since I last..." I said as I fought to get my breath back, the exhaustion of the wild rutting hitting me all at once.
"Oh, don't worry about it. Youth has its drawbacks, but I find it has advantages. You aren't in a hurry, right?" she asked, and I figured she wanted me to stick around until I was ready for another go.
"No..." I replied, since I still had hours until my next appointment.
"Mmmh, that's what I like to hear." she said, unwrapping her legs and surprising me by rolling herself over, and me along with her. The word spun for a second and when it stopped I had the ewe looking coyly at me as she rested her hands against my shoulders. I was still out of breath which is a hell of a time to see her breathtaking tits smooshed together between her arms. It was a neat little trick, all done without so much as letting my still half-hard shaft slip from her freshly flooded sex, and while I was waiting for her to get off and maybe ask me to finger her she just pushed back until she was grinding he rear against me.
"Mhhh, just like I thought. Still not going soft on me. Is it that you like what you see?" she said, and I was about to reply when I felt her clench and draw a groan from my lips. "Mhhh, thought so. You'll be ready for action in no time, tiger. And after all the hard work you put in shearing me, and even harder work fucking me, I think it's fair that I handle the rest, hmm?" she asked and clenched again.
"W-what..."
"Oh, a while back I got really into Kegels. I have to admit, it comes in handy..." she said, clenching up again. After just cumming my cock was so sensitive that I had to clench my teeth whenever she did it, the sweet torture of having that velvety vise squeeze down on me. But it seemed to be working. I wasn't really getting hard yet, but I wasn't in any danger of slipping out of her either. "Now I did mention that I liked being touched after a shear, didn't I?" she asked, arching her back out and thrusting her chest forward.
I didn't need more coxing than that. I had my hands over those lush mounds minutes ago, but back then I was doing my best to be a professional. No reason for any of that now, so I laid my hands on each freshly-shorn teardrop, savoring Bethany's moan as his fingers sunk just a little in. I have fairly big hands, and I've never been with a girl who had more than they could handle, but the ewe's motherly mounds were a handful. Real beyond a doubt, they seemed to want to run and slip from my grip, each one soft, warm and thrillingly heavy as I cupped them. Sensitive too, judging by how Bethany was looking at me through her long lashes as her lids grew a little heavy. She was still working my shaft over, grinding her hips up and down a little as she kept her chest thrust out at my face. I did everything I could think of - pushing them up, kneading them, letting them hand down and running my hands up and down, feeling the lush flesh covered in cloud-soft fuzz. But the bare skin they showed was tantalizing, and soon I had both of her nipples in my grip, tweaking, pinching and drawing interesting noises from the woman they were attached to. They went from stiff to hard, the dark areolae wrinkling a little and contracting as the fleshy nubs jutted out. 
"Oooh baby, you're amazing! C'mon now, don't be shy..." she said, grabbing my hands and pulling them up."... just need a little more." she moaned, pressing my palms hard against her newly shorn chest. 
I didn't really need much more urging than that. The tits sitting in my hands demanded to be touched by the very fact they existed. Thrillingly heavy, tantalizingly soft they looked like half-globes when held up and teardrops when released. It didn't hurt that they had the color and texture of marshmallows, nor that every touch and caress drew amorous noises from the ewe straddling me. And the ewe was caressing me back, both with the hands she was running lovingly up and down my chest and with that snug caprine sex. The flared hips were swiveling, moving just a little but not enough to risk me slipping out. Not that it was much of a risk anymore. I don't really need much time to get ready for another go but Bethany hadn't been kidding about those Kegels. 
Every once in a while I'd feel her clench up, pushing out some of my mess as the soft, moist walls of her sex wrapped around me like my manhood was in the grip of an amorous python. I was still sensitive after cumming, so every time she did it my whole body would tense in response as I groaned, a response the plump ewe seemed to enjoy. It didn't take long for me to get hard again, nor did the freshly shorn momma-sheep fail to notice the shaft she was gripping was once again ready for action. Her grinding slowly changed into longer, smooth movements, her back arching and bowing as she slid just a little bit off me before taking everything I had again. Every time her back arched her chest was pushed out, the breasts mashed against my hands as the dark nipples went from stiff to hard. I caught each one between my ring and middle finger, pushing my digits together to pinch the rubbery nubs as I continued to knead and fondle the bounty of feminine flesh filling my hands.
Bethany was getting into it, her strokes becoming longer as she slid forward a little further each time before swallowing me with a soft coo. She was leaning forward more and more, my crotch now a mess as the squelching strokes pumped out everything I'd left in there. Finally she bent over far enough to plant her palms on either side of my head, my arms almost folded against my chest as I kept them glued to her tits. It took some willpower to release one, but it paid off. The heavy supple breast hung and swayed as the ewe rode me, the peaked black nipple brushing against my nose once before I lunged it and caught it in my mouth. I sucked the firm nub in and got a long, lilting moan in response from the buxom sheep straddling me.
I released her other breast to sway beside me, letting my hands slip around her, trailing my palms across the expanse of fine white fuzz. Just running my hands up and down my back coaxed the most peculiar noises from Bethany, and I did take some time just to hug the sheep-mom close and savor the warmth of her freshly shorn fluff against my bare skin. But inevitable my hands slid along her lower back, following the flare of her hips until they settled on the lush caprine cheeks. Bethany's breasts had been a handful but I could just about palm the mound I was suckling and its twin brushing my cheek as it swayed back and forth. 
No chance of that with this pillowy behind, the two bouncy cheeks making my palms tingle as I ran them along the supple curves of Bethany's ass. Kneading them gently made the momma-sheep coo lovingly, so I decided to try my luck and give them a really good grope. That made Bethany cry out as she returned the squeeze with a squeeze, her sex tightening around me just as she slid off my shaft, making my toes curl as her slit tugged on my erection. An unsubtle hint that I was doing something right.
Damn, I can't believe I'd thought this woman was just some harmless middle-aged housewife! Here I was pinned under an avalanche of feminine charms, suckling on a breast slightly smaller than my head as I dug my fingers into the yielding flesh of the ewe's supple butt. The more I groped the friskier Bethany got, pressing her chest against my face to give her rump more leverage. The hips were rising up and slamming down hard now, bouncing me against the straining mattress as my dominant hold on her ass turned into a grip for dear life. I'd released her nipple in the hopes of switching to the other, but there was no hope. The two heavy tits mashed against my head as my face ended up in the ewe's cleavage, every breath I managed to take laced with that sweet scent I'd first notice when I started taking Bethany's fleece off. Judging by her noises, the sensation of someone huffing and puffing in the cleft between her pillowy mounds felt nice, since Bethany was now really riding me. My hands dug into her cheeks in a steely grip and I could just imagine the strong digits digging into those soft white curves.
But as strong as my grip was, hers was stronger. The slippery caprine sex was clenching around me even as Bethany slammed her hips down on mine, her cries growing higher and louder. I was holding on for dear life now, pinned under her and powerless to do anything but enjoy. She was laying down on me now, writhing against me as friction from outside combined with the friction within to drive her wild. If not for the weight of her this would have been like fucking a cloud, or rather being fucked like one. I'd had a girl get on top of me before and while nothing can make you feel like a stallion better than a cowgirl riding you, it hadn't prepared me for something like this.
 When Bethany's hips slowed I tilted my head up, noticing the ewe was a bit winded. The dark fur of her face hid a flush but the insides of her long ears were glowing a nice rosy-pink as she panted above me.
 "I... huff... thing I'm feeling my age a little... would you mind?" she asked, and the tone she'd said the words was enough.
 I thrust up as hard as I could, making the sheep-momma gasp in surprise as my buck slid her half-way off my shaft. I pumped up again just as she slid back, and soon I was jack-hammering up into the caprine woman stringing happy, shaky moans into one long cry. I could tell she was close so I didn't hold anything back, thrusting at a pace that would have had most girls squealing for me to calm down. But Bethany had plenty of cushioning to enjoy the hard pace without discomfort, the wet staccato of my trusts into that sweltering sex continuing until I felt her shudder against me. The slick walls of her sex fluttered for a few moments around the hard length rubbing against them before Bethany cried out and came hard around me. 
I was sure that having come so soon I was still a long way from my orgasm, but as the ewe pushed my face between her tits her pussy began milking me as I instinctively drove in deep and held myself there. I was pressed into her cleavage so deep that I could hardly breathe, the pillowy mounds wrapping around my head enough to muffle the cries of the motherly ewe cumming hard around the shaft her quivering sex was gripping. The cleavage served to muffle my own groans as I finally gave Bethany's love tunnel what it had been trying to coax from me, my shaft twitching even as it was drained of every drop I had left. At some point Bethany released me and I my head flopped back onto he mattress as I gasped for breath while the buxom sheep nuzzled up against me, my spent cock giving a few last spurts as I caught my breath…
*******
 "Okay, I think I packed up everything so..." I said, feeling a little strange to just pack up my gear and leave after a mind-shattering sex session.
 "Oh wait a sec, I got one more thing... there!" the ewe said, bouncing over in her big robe and carrying a length of knitted, undyed wool. "I told you I give away most of my knitting away, didn't I? I know the cold weather's pretty much over for now, but come fall and winter you'll be happy to have a scarf like this..." she said, wrapping the off-white garment loosely around my neck. "Don't be a stranger now!" she said as she saw me off. It was a bit warm for a scarf, but the wool was softer than goose down and it had a very familiar scent. I remembered what Bethany had said, that her knitting was made entirely from her own wool so I kept it on, letting it fill my mind with visions of thick fleece dropping away from supple curves.
 Damn, my first day on the job set the bar pretty high...