saddle up and ride

“whoa stop” I say, but I don’t try to cover up.

“keep rubbing” he tells me, his eyes glued to my pussy, so I slid a finger inside myself, and then another. I’m close to cumming. I can see that he is too.

He moves himself to between my knees, pulling them open with his hands, his cock rubbing against my pussy lips. “I know you’re a boy, but any pussy will do right now” he says, as he pushes his head into me.

They don't tie you up. If you run you'll entertain him for longer. But that means when he finds you, you can distract him. You unpin your chiton and let it fall around your waist, exposing your heavy breasts. You bounce them, tweaking your nipples so they stand out proud and dark.

He stops, bull head on one side, and watches.

"You want a touch, hon?" You drop your voice low and seductive. "They feel even better than they look."

The minotaur has the head of a bull but he is still a youth, and he has never known a woman's body. So he palms your breasts in his massive hands and lows his pleasure.

"Go on," you coax. "Lick them."

He does as he is told, lapping across your nipple, supple lips working them to points. You groan in pleasure and scratch behind his ears.

"That feels so good baby," you croon. "You're so good at this, I hope this is half as good for you as it is for me." You might be praising him, but his hands are hot and rough on your hips and he's nuzzling your chest and it's shockingly arousing to be worshiped like this, with unbridled innocent lust.

You touch him back, gently caressing his thick muscles and raised scars. You slip your hand between his legs and seize his thick flared bull cock.

He flinches in shock, and you soothe him. "I'll make you feel good," you promise, and he bucks into your hand in answer. You speed your strokes and he gasps and growls, serrated teeth inches from your ear, until he comes with a bellow, spilling gallons of seed down your arms.

He's a generous lover, as eager for your praise as he is for your touch. He wakes you in the mornings with his mouth on your nipples or his wide, wet nose between your legs. He asks for your mouth with soft whimpers, his hands working his cock to hardness. He spends hours licking your cunny, until you're so fucked out you can't even move.

After weeks of fucking your mouth and slipping his fingers into your cunny, he figures it out. He's not stupid, even if he can only communicate in moos. You're three orgasms in and he's sliding his massive cock between your folds when he lifts your hips and pushes inside.

Nothing could have prepared you for how big he is, slamming against your cervix, stretching you past bearing. It feels like he's fucking your lungs, and you can't get enough air to tell him to stop. You don't want him to stop.

"Oh gods," you gasp. "Yes, yes, oh--please--"

He finished inside you, your belly rounding out with the volume of his bull come, and you clench around him, seeing stars, seeing the gods, shuddering and shaking as you see your future.

He doesn't even pull out before he's hard again, and then he's thrusting again, bull stamina dictating that your next week will be spent under him, sticky and sweaty as he holds you down in an endless mating press.

He notices your heavy breasts and swelling belly as soon as you do, his curiosity evident as he caresses you. You put your hands over his where they cup your hips. "You put a baby in me," you explain. "Your thick strong seed went into my belly and now I'm growing your child."

His hand covers your entire belly. He moos in pleasure, and it sounds like "More."

"Yes," you say. "Soon there will be three of us."

Moving you like you're made of porcelain, he lays you back and licks down your belly and between your legs. "More," he insists. "More, more."