The first thing Teresa did when she saw Vicky was grab her wrist, drag her into the lingerie section, and whisper, "You still remember how I taught you to flick your tongue?" The question wasn’t about nostalgia—it was a challenge, low and rough, her fingers already sliding under the hem of Vicky’s skirt.
That’s how it always started: with a dare disguised as casual conversation, their bodies moving closer than necessary under fluorescent store lights. Vicky bit her lip, feeling the familiar thrill crawl up her spine as Teresa tugged a lacy thong off the rack, dangling it between them like a promise. "Prove it, " Teresa murmured, pressing her knee between Vicky’s thighs.
The clerk—nervous-eyed, name tag crooked—barely had time to blink before Teresa was steering them all toward the changing rooms, her grip firm on Vicky’s waist, fingers dipping beneath fabric just enough to tease. "We need your opinion, " Teresa lied smoothly, pushing the door shut behind them, the click of the lock louder than it had any right to be.
The kid—his Adam’s apple bobbing—didn’t know where to look. Teresa’s hands were already sliding Vicky’s top off, slow and deliberate, while Vicky arched into the touch, her breath hitching as Teresa’s teeth grazed her collarbone. "See?" Teresa murmured against Vicky’s skin, eyes flicking up to the clerk’s frozen expression. "She likes it rough."
Vicky, half-dressed and shameless, stepped closer to him, her fingers tracing the outline of his stiffening cock through his slacks before Teresa reached in and yanked his zipper down, exposing him entirely. The air smelled like sweat and synthetic fabric, the changing room suddenly too small for three bodies thrumming with want. "Ever been with two girls at once?" Vicky whispered, her thumb swiping lazily over his leaking tip.
His breath hitched—a choked, involuntary sound—as Teresa dropped to her knees without preamble, her dark hair falling forward as she took him deep into her throat in one slick motion. No hesitation, no preamble, just the wet heat of her mouth swallowing him whole while Vicky claimed his lips, her tongue pushing past his teeth, tasting the sharp gasp he couldn’t suppress.
Teresa flicked her tongue on the underside of his cock as her mouth slid up and down his length, the tip tracing the pulsing vein there with deliberate precision, her fingers tightening around his hips to keep him from bucking forward. The contrast was dizzying: the slow, teasing licks against the sensitive ridge while her throat worked him relentlessly, the suction almost painful in its intensity as they laid him on his back on the dressing room floor.
Vicky shifted her weight above him, grinding down against his tongue—not a request, not even a demand, just an unspoken expectation he was already desperate to meet. His nose pressed into her folds, breath hot against her skin as he licked deeper, tasting the salt-slick sweetness of her arousal, the way her thighs trembled against his temples when he curled his tongue just right.
Teresa's fingers dug into his hips, urging him upward as she straddled him in one fluid motion, her cunt hovering over his cock for a heartbeat before she slammed down, taking him to the hilt with a gasp that was half pleasure, half punch-drunk relief. She didn't bother with rhythm—not yet—just rolled her hips in tight, aching circles, her inner walls fluttering around him like she was memorizing the shape of him inside her.
Vicky arched above them, one hand tangled in Teresa's hair while the other braced against the mirrored wall, her thighs shaking as his tongue found her clit again—flicking, sucking, relentless—the pressure building in her belly like a storm surge. Every time Teresa ground down, Vicky's hips jerked forward, her moans punched out of her in ragged bursts, the slick sound of their bodies mingling with the clerk's muffled whimpers beneath them.
Then she came—violently, messily—her thighs clamping around his ears as she spasmed, her cunt pulsing against his tongue while her climax sprayed across his chin, his throat, the open collar of his store-issue shirt. She didn't hold back; couldn't have if she'd tried. Teresa laughed against her shoulder, low and satisfied, while the clerk gasped, his fingers digging into Teresa's thighs as she rode him harder, faster, her rhythm turning jagged with need.
And then he exploded inside her. She pushed down hard to capture as much of his length as she could, driving him deeper and deeper in her as he squirted deep inside. It felt wonderful—the hot rush of him filling her, the way his hips stuttered beneath her like a dying engine, his groan muffled against Vicky’s thigh where she still pinned him with her weight. Teresa clenched around him, milking every last drop, her lips parted in a silent oh as she rocked through the aftershocks.
When they finally let him escape, he staggered out of the room pulling himself together—shirt untucked, belt undone, his expression somewhere between dazed and devout. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving the scent of sex and sweat thick in the air. Teresa looked at Vicky, both of them half-dressed and laid back against the dressing room bench, their skin glistening under the harsh fluorescent lights.
"You owe me one girl, " Teresa said as she laid back and spread her legs wide, her smirk sharp enough to cut glass. Her thighs were still slick, the proof of their little game smeared across her skin. Vicky groaned—half-amused, half-aroused—knowing exactly what Teresa meant.
Vicky dove into Teresa’s pussy like a girl possessed, licking and sucking and fingering deep in her slippery cunt. The taste was intoxicating—salt and musk and something unmistakably Teresa—and Vicky moaned against her, flattening her tongue against Teresa’s clit before swirling it in tight circles. Teresa’s fingers tangled in her hair, yanking hard enough to make her gasp, the sting only fueling her hunger. "Fuck, yes—just like that, " Teresa hissed, her hips lifting off the bench to meet Vicky’s mouth.
Teresa came hard, her thighs clamping around Vicky’s head as her back arched off the bench, her entire body shuddering with pleasure. A ragged moan tore from her throat, but she clapped a hand over her mouth just in time—muffling the sound into something desperate and choked. The orgasm rolled through her in waves, her cunt clenching rhythmically around Vicky’s fingers still buried inside her.
Vicky didn’t let up, dragging her tongue over Teresa’s swollen clit again and again, coaxing out every last pulse of pleasure until Teresa finally shoved her away with a breathless laugh. "Jesus, " she panted, slick thighs trembling as she tried to catch her breath. "We should get going—mom’s expecting us."
The mention of her mother sent a fresh jolt of heat through Vicky’s gut. She could already picture it: Teresa sprawled across the leather seat of her mother’s sybian, legs spread wide, her back arching as the machine’s relentless vibrations drove her higher and higher. The thought alone made Vicky’s fingers twitch against her own damp skin.
She had practiced for weeks—her mother’s collection of attachments laid out on the bed like surgical tools, each one thicker, more textured than the last. The horse cock had been her favorite, its ridged length stretching her to the brink every time she sank down onto it, her thighs shaking as she imagined Teresa watching, lips parted, eyes dark with hunger.
Now, in the backseat of Teresa’s car, Vicky pressed her forehead against the cool window, her pulse still thrumming from the changing room. Teresa’s fingers traced idle circles on her thigh, the touch light enough to tease, heavy enough to promise. "You gonna tell me why you kept texting me those videos?" Teresa murmured, her breath warm against Vicky’s ear. "Or do I have to guess?"
Vicky’s laugh was shaky, her hips shifting against the seat as she remembered the last one—the way the thick, veined toy had stretched her open, her moans muffled into the pillow. "Mom’s got a new stud at the farm, " she admitted, biting her lip. "She said if I could take the biggest one, I could ride him next time." Teresa’s fingers stilled, then dug in—possessive, approving.
The car swerved slightly as Teresa’s grip tightened on the wheel. "That why you’ve been training?" Her voice dropped, rough with want. "I’ve seen the videos—your ass bouncing on that black monstrosity, your fingers shoved in your mouth to keep quiet." Vicky’s breath hitched; Teresa had watched. More than once, if the slick heat between her legs was any indication.
Teresa’s thumb rubbed circles on Vicky’s thigh, slow and deliberate. "You sure you’re ready for that?" The question wasn’t doubt—it was a dare. "I heard you have to fuck everyone just to get the opportunity to try the stud." The words hung between them, thick as the humidity fogging the windows. Vicky’s skin prickled, imagining it: the farmer’s calloused hands pinning her hips, his wife’s nails raking down her back while the sons took turns filling her mouth.
Linda had been there for years—Vicky remembered stumbling across her profile late one night, the grainy footage of her blindfolded and spread across a bale of hay, thighs slick with sweat and lube as the stable hands took turns with her. The comments section was a mess of volunteers begging to be next, their handles tacky with desperation. Linda never replied. She just kept arching into each new thrust, her moans muffled by the cock in her mouth.
Vicky’s pulse kicked when Teresa’s fingers tightened around hers—not possessive, but anticipatory, like she already knew Vicky was picturing the same thing: the way Linda’s ass had bounced under the farmhand’s rough grip, her tits swaying as another man fisted her hair and dragged her head back. The memory made Vicky’s breath hitch, her thighs pressing together under the scratchy car seat. "She liked it rough, " Teresa murmured, and Vicky didn’t have to ask who she meant.
The first stretch was always the worst—Vicky knew that now, after weeks of training—but the way Teresa’s fingers curled inside her, knuckles deep and relentless, made her gasp. The stretch burned, deliciously, her body resisting before giving way, her cunt fluttering around Teresa’s fingers as she twisted them just so. "That’s it, " Teresa breathed against her ear, her free hand pinching Vicky’s nipple hard enough to make her jerk. "You take it so fucking good."
Vicky’s thighs trembled, her hips lifting off the seat to meet Teresa’s thrusts, the rough fabric of the car’s upholstery scraping against her bare skin. Teresa’s fingers crooked inside her, pressing against that spot that made her vision blur, her toes curling against the dashboard. "Think you can take more?" Teresa murmured, her teeth grazing Vicky’s earlobe. The question was rhetorical—they both knew the answer, knew Vicky had been practicing for this, her body stretched and slick and eager.
Teresa’s free hand slid between them, her thumb pressing against Vicky’s clit in slow, deliberate circles, the pressure just shy of painful. Vicky’s breath hitched, her hips jerking forward, her cunt clenching around Teresa’s fingers as the pleasure coiled tight in her belly. "Like Linda, " Teresa whispered, her voice rough with want. "You remember how she looked? Spread open for all of them, taking every inch, her ass red from the spanking?" Vicky moaned, the image flooding her mind—Linda’s thighs slick with sweat and cum, her body used and marked, her moans muffled by the cock in her mouth.
Then the cameras and lights were turned on, Linda's blindfold was put in place, and the show began. The harsh fluorescents buzzed overhead, casting sharp shadows across the stable floor, the scent of hay and sweat thick in the air. Linda knelt between two farmhands, her wrists bound behind her back, her head tipped back as one of them traced the line of her throat with the tip of his cock. She shivered, her lips parting instinctively, her tongue darting out to taste him before he slid between her lips with a groan. The other man circled behind her, his calloused hands gripping her hips, his cock already slick with lube as he pressed against her asshole.
The first thrust made her gasp around the cock in her mouth, her body arching against the intrusion, her thighs trembling as he pushed deeper. The farmhand chuckled, his fingers tightening in her hair as she choked slightly, her throat working around him. "That's it, take it, " he murmured, his hips rolling forward, his cock hitting the back of her throat. Behind her, the other man was relentless, his thrusts short and sharp, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her hips hard enough to bruise. Linda moaned, the vibrations sending a shudder through the man in her mouth, his cock twitching against her tongue.
Then she felt it—the heavy weight of paws pressing into her back, the rough pads scraping against her skin as the German shepherd mounted her. The blanket beneath her did little to cushion the hay’s prickling sting, and she whimpered as the dog’s hot breath ghosted over her spine, his cock prodding against her slick folds. The farmhand behind her didn’t stop—if anything, his thrusts grew harder, his grip bruising as he held her open for the animal. "Good girl, " he rasped, his voice thick with approval, his cock buried to the hilt inside her ass. "Take him, too."
She didn’t see how they did it, but suddenly the man was straddling her, his thick cock plunging into her ass while the dog’s paws braced against his back, its knot swelling against her entrance. Both of them fucked her wildly, the rhythm chaotic—dog’s hips jerking forward in frantic bursts, the man grinding deep with every thrust—while the third man at her head kept his cock buried in her throat. She gagged, tears streaking her cheeks, her body stretched impossibly full. The farmhand’s hand fisted in her hair, forcing her nose into his groin, the musky scent of his skin drowning her senses.
The dog’s claws scraped down her spine as it came, its knot locking inside her with a pulse of hot, thick release that flooded her womb. She screamed around the cock in her mouth, her thighs trembling violently as her own climax ripped through her, the contractions milking the man in her ass. He groaned, his fingers digging into her hips hard enough to leave bruises, his hips stuttering as he emptied himself inside her. The third man followed moments later, his grip tightening in her hair as he came down her throat, the salty spurts hitting the back of her tongue, her throat working instinctively to swallow around him.
Teresa looked at Vicky, her fingers still buried knuckle-deep inside her, the slick sound of her thrusts loud in the quiet car. "You sure you're ready for that?" she murmured, her thumb circling Vicky’s clit with deliberate pressure. "They won’t go easy on you." Vicky’s breath hitched, her hips jerking forward, her cunt clenching around Teresa’s fingers as the image burned behind her eyelids—Linda’s body used and marked, her thighs slick with cum, her ass red from the spanking. "You’re young and slight, " Teresa continued, her voice rough with want. "They’ll really put it on you for the cameras."
Vicky swallowed hard, her thighs trembling as Teresa’s fingers crooked inside her, pressing against that spot that made her vision blur. The stretch burned deliciously, her body resisting before giving way, her cunt fluttering around Teresa’s fingers as she twisted them just so. "I want it, " she gasped, her nails digging into Teresa’s wrist. "I want to feel it all." Teresa’s free hand slid between them, her thumb pressing against Vicky’s clit in slow, deliberate circles, the pressure just shy of painful. "The dogs?" Teresa murmured, her teeth grazing Vicky’s earlobe. "The stud?" Vicky moaned, the image flooding her mind—the horse’s thick cock plunging into her, the hot rush of cum shooting so deep it moved her body. "Yes, " she breathed. "All of it."
They eventually arrived at home and Linda was there to meet them. Vicky was flushed from Teresa’s advances, her cheeks pink, her lips swollen from biting back moans in the car. Linda took one look at her—the way her thighs kept pressing together, the way her breath hitched when Teresa’s hand brushed the small of her back—and grinned. "What have you been up to?" she said with a knowing smile, her eyes flicking to the damp spot on the front of Vicky’s skirt. Teresa smirked, her fingers trailing up Vicky’s arm. "Just getting her ready for you." Linda’s gaze darkened, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. "Good, " she murmured. "Because the stable’s waiting."
Linda led them out back, where the barn loomed against the twilight, its weathered boards groaning in the wind. The air smelled of hay and leather, the tang of animal musk thick beneath it. Inside, the farmer leaned against a stall, his arms crossed over his broad chest, his gaze flicking over Vicky with a hunger that made her shiver. His wife stood beside him, her fingers drumming against her thigh, her lips curved in a smirk. The sons—two of them, barely older than Vicky—were already stripping off their shirts, their muscles flexing as they tossed them aside. Four other men lounged on bales of hay, their eyes sharp with anticipation. "We’ve got a full house tonight, " Linda purred, her fingers trailing down Vicky’s spine. "Hope you’re not shy."
The first touch was the farmer’s calloused palm sliding up Vicky’s thigh, his fingers digging into the soft flesh just above her knee. His grip was firm, almost painful, his thumb rubbing slow circles against the sensitive skin there. His wife stepped forward, her nails scraping down Vicky’s back, leaving faint red trails in their wake. The sons crowded in, their hands rough and eager, one of them cupping her breast through her thin shirt, his fingers pinching her nipple hard enough to make her gasp. The other slid a hand between her legs, his palm pressing against her clit through the damp fabric of her panties, his fingers rubbing in slow, deliberate circles. The heat of their bodies surrounded her, the scent of sweat and leather and musk thick in the air, the sound of their breathing ragged with want.
One of the sons tore her shirt open, buttons scattering across the hay-strewn floor, his mouth closing over her breast with a groan. The farmer’s wife tangled her fingers in Vicky’s hair, yanking her head back, her lips pressing against Vicky’s in a bruising kiss. The farmer’s hands slid down to her hips, his fingers hooking into the waistband of her skirt, yanking it down with a sharp tug. The other men crowded in, their hands everywhere—one gripping her ass, another sliding a finger into her cunt, his knuckles pressing against her clit as he curled his finger inside her. The farmer’s wife pulled back from the kiss, her lips swollen, her breath hot against Vicky’s ear. "You’re going to take everything we give you, " she murmured, her voice rough with want. "Every last inch."
The farmer spun her around, pressing her face-first against the rough wood of the stall, his hands spreading her thighs wide. The first thrust was brutal—his cock plunging into her cunt without warning, his hips slamming against her ass with enough force to make her gasp. The farmer’s wife pressed against her back, her hands sliding around to pinch Vicky’s nipples, her teeth grazing Vicky’s shoulder. The sons knelt in front of her, one of them gripping her chin, forcing her mouth open, his cock sliding between her lips. The other son’s fingers worked her asshole open, his thumb pressing against the tight ring of muscle, the stretch burning deliciously.
Vicky moaned around the cock in her mouth, her cunt clenching around the farmer’s thick length, her thighs trembling as he fucked her hard and deep. The farmer’s wife chuckled against her skin, her fingers twisting Vicky’s nipples cruelly, her other hand sliding down to rub Vicky’s clit in rough circles. The son behind her pushed his thumb inside her ass, the stretch sharp and sweet, his fingers gripping her hips hard enough to leave bruises. The other son groaned as Vicky’s tongue flicked against the head of his cock, her lips tightening around him as she sucked him deeper.
The farmer’s thrusts grew erratic, his breath hot against Vicky’s shoulder as he drove into her harder, his cock pulsing inside her. Vicky could feel the moment he lost control—his hips stuttering, his grip tightening on her waist, the ragged groan that tore from his throat as he came, his cum flooding her cunt in hot, thick spurts. The farmer’s wife laughed, low and satisfied, her fingers still working Vicky’s clit relentlessly, her teeth grazing Vicky’s ear. "Good girl, " she murmured, her voice rough with approval. "Taking it just like your mama taught you."
Linda watched from her chair, legs spread wide, her fingers tangled in Teresa’s hair as Teresa licked her clit with slow, deliberate strokes. The sight of Vicky bent over the stall, her cunt dripping with the farmer’s release, her ass red from the spanking, made Linda’s breath hitch. Teresa’s tongue flicked against her clit, her fingers curling inside Linda just right, the pressure building in her belly like a storm surge. Linda moaned, her hips lifting off the chair to meet Teresa’s mouth, her thighs trembling as Teresa sucked her clit into her mouth, the sensation sharp and sweet.
The farmer’s wife knelt between Vicky’s spread thighs, her tongue tracing lazy circles around Vicky’s clit, her fingers working in and out of her cunt, spreading the farmer’s cum inside her. Vicky whimpered, her hips jerking forward, her fingers scrabbling against the stall’s rough wood as the farmer’s wife’s tongue flicked faster, the pressure building unbearably. The farmer’s wife chuckled against Vicky’s skin, her fingers pressing deeper, her tongue swirling around Vicky’s clit in tight circles, the sensation almost painful in its intensity. Vicky came with a choked gasp, her cunt pulsing around the farmer’s wife’s fingers, her thighs clamping around the woman’s head as the orgasm ripped through her.
The farmer’s wife stood, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, her smirk sharp as she glanced at the sons. "Your turn, " she murmured, stepping back as the two boys crowded in, their cocks hard and slick with lube. The first son gripped Vicky’s hips, his cock pressing against her asshole, the stretch sharp and sweet as he pushed inside, his groan muffled against her shoulder. The second son knelt in front of her, his fingers spreading her lips wide, his tongue flicking against her clit, the sensation sending fresh shivers up her spine. Vicky moaned, her hips jerking forward, her cunt clenching around nothing as the first son fucked her ass, his thrusts slow and deep, his fingers digging into her hips hard enough to bruise. They finally finished leaving Vicky covered in cum and saliva.
The boys put her face down on two bales with her breasts hanging down between them. One son rubbed something on Vicky's nipples and her clit. Then they brought in a german shepherd puppy and two young calves. They led the calves under her breasts and when they caught the scent, they raised their heads and started nursing on Vicky's breasts. The puppy started fervently licking her inner thighs working his way to her pussy.
The puppy whined, its paws scrabbling against the hay-strewn floor as it sniffed at Vicky’s thighs, its tongue darting out to lap at the slickness there. The calves’ suction grew stronger, their tongues rough against her nipples, the sensation strange and electric, sending jolts of pleasure straight to her clit. The farmer’s wife chuckled, her fingers trailing down Vicky’s back, her nails scraping lightly over the red marks left by the spanking. "Look at her, " she murmured, her voice thick with approval. "Taking it all like a good little slut."
The puppy’s tongue flicked against Vicky’s clit, the sensation sharp and sudden, making her gasp and arch against the hay. The calves’ mouths worked her nipples rhythmically, their warm breath ghosting over her skin, the rough pull of their tongues sending fresh waves of heat through her belly. One of the sons knelt beside her, his fingers tangling in her hair, his other hand tracing the curve of her ass. "You like that, don’t you?" he murmured, his breath hot against her ear. "Animals fucking you just as good as men."
The farmer’s wife dragged a fingertip along Vicky’s spine, her touch light but deliberate, her nails scraping just enough to raise goosebumps. "Wait till the stud gets here, " she whispered, her voice dripping with promise. "You’ll feel that one for days." Vicky whimpered, her thighs trembling as the puppy’s tongue worked faster, lapping at her slick folds with eager, unpracticed strokes. The calves’ suction grew stronger, their tongues pressing harder against her nipples, the sensation toeing the line between pleasure and pain.
Linda’s moan echoed across the stable as Teresa’s tongue flicked against her clit in quick, relentless circles, her fingers buried knuckle-deep inside her. The scent of sex and sweat mingled with the musk of animals, the air thick with the sound of wet, hungry mouths. Teresa’s free hand gripped Linda’s thigh, her nails digging in hard enough to leave crescent-shaped marks as Linda arched into her touch, her hips lifting off the hay bale to meet Teresa’s tongue.
Vicky’s breath hitched as the puppy’s tongue worked faster, its rough little licks sending sparks of pleasure up her spine. The calves’ suction grew more insistent, their warm mouths tugging rhythmically at her nipples, the sensation toeing the line between pleasure and pain. She could feel the farmer’s wife’s hands on her ass, spreading her wider, her fingers tracing the swollen, sensitive rim of her asshole before pressing inside with deliberate slowness. The stretch burned deliciously, her body resisting before yielding, the fullness making her gasp.
The boys laughed, low and approving, as they adjusted the camera angles, their voices rough with excitement. "The mama and daughter are fantastic, " one murmured, his fingers tightening around Linda’s wrist as Teresa pinned her mother’s thighs apart. "We need two more blindfolds to record them." Linda’s moan was muffled as they stripped her quickly, her skin flushing under the harsh lights, her nipples already peaked with anticipation. Teresa’s smirk was sharp as she leaned down, her tongue tracing the shell of her mother’s ear before whispering something that made Linda shudder.
Vicky’s breath hitched as the stable doors creaked open again—the heavy, rhythmic clop of hooves against wood sending a fresh thrill up her spine. The stud’s breath was hot against her shoulder, his massive chest pressing into her back, the sheer size of him making her pulse spike. His cock, thick and veined, brushed against her thigh, the heat of it searing even through the air between them. The farmer’s wife chuckled, her fingers trailing down Vicky’s spine. "You wanted the real thing, " she murmured, her voice thick with promise. "Now take it."
Teresa’s laughter was sharp as she straddled the stable’s wooden divider, her thighs framing the farmer’s shoulders while he knelt beneath her, his tongue working in slow, deliberate circles around her clit. The cameras pivoted toward her, the lenses catching the way her back arched as she gripped the German shepherd’s ruff, guiding the dog’s muzzle between her thighs. "Like this, " she breathed, her hips rolling forward, the dog’s tongue flicking against her in eager, unpracticed strokes. The farmer groaned against her, his fingers digging into her hips as the dog’s rough licks sent tremors through her body.
Vicky’s gasp was muffled by the stud’s thick cock filling her mouth, her jaw stretched wide around the pulsing girth as he rocked forward, the salty pre-cum coating her tongue. Blindfolded, she could only feel—the warm, calloused hands of the farmer’s sons pinning her wrists to the hay bale, the calves’ tongues still nursing at her nipples, the insistent pressure of the stud’s cockhead nudging the back of her throat. The contrast was dizzying: the soft suction at her breasts, the brutal stretch of her jaw, the wet heat of the puppy still lapping at her clit between frantic whimpers.
Teresa arched against the German shepherd’s thrusts, her thighs trembling as the dog’s knot swelled inside her, locking them together with a sharp, shuddering pulse. Blindfolded, she couldn’t see the way her mother’s lips parted in envy, couldn’t witness the farmer’s wife stroking Linda’s hair like a proud instructor watching her prize student. But she could hear—the wet slap of skin against fur, the choked moan Linda couldn’t suppress when Teresa’s fingers twisted in her own hair, forcing her head back onto the stallion’s cock.
Vicky’s world narrowed to the stud’s weight pinning her hips, the way his hooves scraped the hay-strewn floor as he mounted her, his thick cock stretching her impossibly wide. The calves’ nursing had turned her nipples raw and oversensitive, every suck sending jolts of pleasure-pain straight to her clit where the puppy still lapped, its tongue now clumsy with exhaustion. The farmer’s sons chuckled as they filmed her trembling thighs, the way her cunt fluttered around nothing when the stud finally pulled out—only to slam back in with a force that knocked the breath from her lungs. All three women being used by the beasts, moaning and writhing as they started fucking them in ernest. The camers panning from one to the next, horse, dogs, puppy, calves. It was a love zoo covering all of them.
Linda’s moan was guttural as the stallion’s cock pistoned into her, her back arching off the hay bale, her fingers scrabbling for purchase against the rough wood. Blindfolded, she couldn’t see the way Teresa’s thighs shook around the German shepherd’s knot, couldn’t witness the farmer’s wife guiding the younger calf’s muzzle between Vicky’s legs to replace the tired puppy. But she could feel—the farmer’s calloused hands spreading her wider, the hot drip of pre-cum down her throat where the stable hand still fucked her mouth, the stud’s thick cock pulsing inside her with each thrust.
Linda’s husband leaned against the stable wall, his fingers tightening around the whiskey bottle as he watched his wife take the stud’s full length, her body jerking forward with each punishing stroke. The farmer’s daughter—cheeks flushed, lips swollen from biting back moans—dropped to her knees beside him, her fingers already working his belt loose. "Fuck me, " she breathed against his ear, her tongue tracing the shell of it before she took him into her mouth in one smooth motion. The contrast was dizzying: the wet heat of her throat around him while the stud’s hooves scraped the floor behind them, driving into Linda with enough force to make the hay bale shudder.
Vicky’s gasp was muffled by the calf’s rough tongue against her clit, the sensation toeing the line between pleasure and pain as the animal’s suction grew more insistent. The farmer’s wife chuckled, her fingers tightening in Vicky’s hair as she guided her head back onto the stable hand’s cock, the stretch sharp and sudden. "Good girl, " she murmured, her thumb tracing the swollen outline of Vicky’s lips stretched around the thick shaft. The stud’s breath was hot against Vicky’s spine as he mounted her again, his cock slick with her arousal and the farmer’s cum, the stretch bordering on unbearable as he bottomed out inside her with a groan.
Teresa’s moan was ragged as the German shepherd’s knot swelled inside her, locking them together with a shuddering pulse, her thighs trembling against the dog’s frantic thrusts. Blindfolded, she couldn’t see the way her mother arched into the stallion’s cock, couldn’t witness the farmer’s wife’s smirk as she pressed a hand between Linda’s shoulder blades, forcing her deeper onto the thick shaft. But she could feel—the farmer’s daughter’s fingers tangling in her hair, the rough scrape of hay against her bare skin, the way the dog’s claws dug into her hips as his thrusts grew erratic.
The farmer’s daughter gasped around the husband’s cock, her lips stretched wide, her tongue swirling just under the crown as he groaned above her. His fingers tightened in her hair, not guiding, just holding—letting her set the pace while his eyes flicked between his wife’s shuddering form and Teresa’s trembling thighs. The contrast was dizzying: the wet heat of the girl’s throat around him, the sharp cry Linda couldn’t suppress as the stallion bottomed out inside her, the rough panting of the German shepherd as it came deep inside Teresa, and Vicky wiggling and humping under her own equine cock.
Linda’s thighs trembled against the farmer’s calloused hands, her hips jerking forward with each thick pulse of the stallion’s release inside her. The cum spilled out around his still-hard cock, dripping down her inner thighs in hot, sticky rivulets, the scent of salt and musk thick in the air. She arched back against the farmer’s wife, her breath coming in ragged gasps as the stud’s weight pinned her hips to the hay bale, his hooves scraping the floor in restless circles. The farmer’s wife laughed low in her ear, her fingers tracing the mess between Linda’s thighs, her touch teasingly light. "Look at you, " she murmured, her voice rough with approval. "Dripping like a bitch in heat."
Teresa’s moan was muffled against the German shepherd’s fur, her fingers tangled in its ruff as the dog’s knot kept them locked together, his thrusts growing frantic before he came with a shuddering groan. The heat of it flooded her, the sensation foreign and electric, her thighs clamping around the animal’s hips instinctively. The farmer’s daughter watched with dark eyes, her lips parted around the husband’s cock, her tongue swirling lazily over his tip as Teresa’s body convulsed with each pulse of the dog’s release. The contrast was dizzying—the rough panting of the animal against Teresa’s neck, the slick sounds of the farmer’s daughter’s mouth working the husband’s cock, the wet slap of the stallion’s cock still buried deep in Linda.
The farmer’s wife knelt between Teresa’s trembling thighs, her fingers already tracing the swollen, sensitive skin of Teresa’s clit, the pressure deliberate and unrelenting. Teresa jerked against her touch, her breath hitching as the farmer’s wife’s nails scraped lightly over her inner thighs, the sting sharpening the pleasure coiling in her belly. The German shepherd whined, his knot still buried inside her, his paws scrabbling against the hay as Teresa’s hips lifted off the bale, her back arching into the farmer’s wife’s touch. "That’s it, " the farmer’s wife murmured, her thumb circling Teresa’s clit faster, her other hand pressing down on Teresa’s hips to keep her from bucking away. "Take it like a good little bitch."
Teresa’s moan was ragged, her fingers twisting in the dog’s fur as the farmer’s wife’s fingers worked her clit in tight, relentless circles, the pressure building unbearably fast. The dog’s breath was hot against her neck, his tongue laving at her skin between panting whines, his cock twitching inside her as her cunt fluttered around him. The farmer’s wife chuckled, her fingers dipping lower, tracing the swollen, sensitive rim of Teresa’s stretched hole where the dog’s knot kept them locked together. "You like that, don’t you?" she murmured, her thumb pressing harder against Teresa’s clit, the pressure toeing the line between pleasure and pain. "Being fucked full of dog while I make you cum?"
Vicky’s gasp was muffled by the stable hand’s cock filling her mouth, her jaw aching around the thick girth as he rocked forward, the salty pre-cum coating her tongue. The stud’s hooves scraped the hay-strewn floor behind her, his breath hot against her spine as he mounted her again, his cock slick with her arousal and the farmer’s cum, the stretch bordering on unbearable as he bottomed out inside her with a groan. The contrast was dizzying—the rough thrusts of the stud against her hips, the stable hand’s fingers tightening in her hair, the calf’s tongue still lapping at her oversensitive clit—her body thrummed with pleasure so intense it bordered on pain.
"Oh yes!!" Teresa screamed, her thighs clamping around the German shepherd’s hips as the farmer’s wife’s fingers worked her clit relentlessly, the pressure toeing the line between pleasure and agony. She loved it—the way the dog’s knot kept them locked together, the way the farmer’s wife’s nails scraped her inner thighs, the way the stable air smelled like sweat and animal musk—and she wished it would go on forever. The woman was an expert, her thumb circling Teresa’s clit with cruel precision, her other hand pressing down on Teresa’s hips to keep her from bucking away, and Teresa was about to cum again, her vision whiting out at the edges as the pleasure coiled tight in her belly.
All at once Teresa exploded with a powerful orgasm. Her hips left the hay bale and went high in the air loosening the hold of the dog inside her. His cum, now free squirted out of her in a gush. The woman followed her hips, still rubbing her clit ferociously and now sliding her fingers in Teresa's pussy. She pushed harder and her hand and wrist slipped inside her. The woman was fisting her, pushing her arm into Teresa as far as she could thrusting in and out. Teresa’s cunt stretched impossibly wide around the farmer’s wife’s forearm, the sensation bordering on unbearable—but Teresa didn’t pull away. She arched into it, her fingers scrabbling against the hay bale, her thighs trembling as the woman’s knuckles pressed against her cervix, the stretch sharp and electric.
The farmer’s wife laughed low in Teresa’s ear, her breath hot against Teresa’s sweat-slick skin as she twisted her arm deeper, her fingers curling inside Teresa’s cunt in slow, deliberate circles. Teresa gasped, her body jerking forward with each thrust, her clit swollen and throbbing under the woman’s relentless thumb. "You take it so fucking good, " the farmer’s wife murmured, her voice rough with approval as Teresa’s cunt fluttered around her wrist, the wet heat almost suffocating.
Then she moved around Teresa’s legs, her lips closing around Teresa’s engorged clit with a hunger that made Teresa’s thighs tremble. The feeling was unworldly—the woman’s tongue flicking against the sensitive bud in quick, precise strokes, her teeth grazing just enough to make Teresa’s back arch off the hay bale. Teresa was stretched to the breaking point, the farmer’s wife’s arm still buried deep inside her, but the mouth on her clit felt *wonderful*, the dual sensations sending sparks of pleasure shooting up her spine.
Vicky whimpered beneath the stud’s weight, her thighs slick with his cum and her own arousal, the calf’s rough tongue still nursing at her clit in greedy pulls. Every flick sent jolts of oversensitive pleasure through her, her cunt fluttering around nothing as the stud finally pulled out, his cock leaving her gaping and dripping onto the hay-strewn floor. She was *ruined*—her body trembling, her mind hazy with pleasure—but the calf didn’t stop, its warm mouth sucking harder now, as if determined to milk every last shudder from her.
Linda gasped as the farmer finally pulled the stallion away, her thighs streaked with sweat and cum, her cunt still twitching around the phantom stretch of his cock. She barely had time to catch her breath before the farmer’s hands were between her thighs again, his fingers slicking something cold and wriggling against her swollen entrance. The eel—its sleek body glistening under the stable lights—twisted in his grip before sliding into her with a sinuous ease, its smooth scales catching against her stretched walls as it slithered deeper. The sensation was *alive*—undulating inside her like liquid heat—and Linda moaned, her hips jerking forward instinctively as the eel coiled tight against her cervix, its movements sending ripples of pleasure through her exhausted body.
The farmer chuckled, his fingers tracing the outline of the eel’s writhing form beneath Linda’s skin before he tugged it halfway out, the creature’s slick body leaving a trail of glistening fluid in its wake. "Again, " he murmured, pushing it back inside with deliberate slowness, the eel’s tail flicking against her clit as it disappeared into her once more. Linda’s breath hitched—her thighs trembling, her nails digging into the hay bale—as the eel spiraled deeper, its movements now purposeful, almost *knowing*, as if it sensed the exact rhythm to make her arch off the bale with a shattered cry. The cameras zoomed in, capturing the way her stomach quivered with each undulation, the outline of the eel’s body visible beneath her skin as it curled into tight, pleasure-drunk circles.
Teresa watched, her own cunt clenching around nothing, the farmer’s wife’s arm still buried wrist-deep inside her. The woman twisted her fingers just so, pressing against the spongy spot deep within Teresa’s cunt while her other hand dragged sharp nails down Teresa’s inner thigh—a dual assault that made Teresa’s vision blur at the edges. "You’re *dripping*, " the farmer’s wife taunted, her thumb circling Teresa’s clit in lazy, teasing strokes, her voice thick with amusement. Teresa couldn’t respond—could only gasp as the woman’s fingers crooked inside her, the stretch bordering on unbearable, the pleasure so intense it bordered on pain. The contrast was dizzying: the rough scrape of hay against her back, the wet heat of the farmer’s wife’s mouth still hovering over her clit, the distant sound of Linda’s moans as the eel coiled tighter inside her.
Linda’s thighs trembled against the farmer’s calloused hands, her hips jerking forward with each sinuous undulation of the eel’s body inside her. The creature’s movements were *alive*—purposeful, knowing—its slick scales catching against her swollen walls in a rhythm that made her toes curl. The farmer’s wife chuckled, her fingers tracing the outline of the eel beneath Linda’s skin, the creature’s tail flicking against her clit with each twist. "Look at you, " she murmured, her voice rough with approval. "Taking it like a *natural*." Linda’s breath hitched—her cunt fluttering around the eel’s writhing form—as the farmer’s fingers pressed down on her lower belly, forcing the creature deeper, the pressure toeing the line between pleasure and agony.
Teresa watched, transfixed, her own body still stretched around the farmer’s wife’s wrist, the woman’s fingers curled deep inside her. The sight of Linda’s stomach quivering with each undulation sent a fresh jolt of heat through her—her cunt clenching instinctively around the intrusion, her thighs slick with sweat and arousal. "I want one too, " Teresa begged, her voice ragged, her fingers digging into the hay bale beneath her. The farmer’s wife smirked, her thumb circling Teresa’s clit in slow, deliberate strokes. "Greedy little thing, " she murmured, her breath hot against Teresa’s ear. "You’re already *full*." Teresa whimpered—her hips lifting off the bale—as the woman’s fingers twisted inside her, the stretch bordering on unbearable, the pleasure so intense it blurred her vision.
The stable hand’s fingers tightened in Vicky’s hair, his cock twitching against her tongue as he watched Linda writhe beneath the eel’s relentless movements. Vicky’s jaw ached around his girth, her breath hitching as the calf’s rough tongue flicked against her swollen clit—each stroke sending sparks of pleasure shooting up her spine. The farmer’s wife chuckled, her fingers pressing down on Teresa’s lower belly as she reached for another eel—its sleek body glistening under the harsh stable lights. Teresa’s breath hitched—her thighs trembling—as the creature slithered against her inner thigh, its cool scales sending goosebumps erupting across her skin. The farmer’s wife traced the eel’s sinuous path along Teresa’s slit, the tip catching against her stretched entrance before pushing inside with a slow, deliberate twist.
The eel shot inside Teresa like lightning—its smooth body coiling tight against her cervix, its movements sinuous and *alive*. The sensation was dizzying—unlike anything she’d ever felt—the creature’s undulations sending ripples of pleasure through her exhausted body. The farmer’s wife smirked, her fingers tracing the outline of the eel beneath Teresa’s skin, pressing down to guide its writhing path deeper. Teresa gasped—her back arching off the hay bale—as the eel spiraled inside her, its slick scales catching against her swollen walls with each pulse. The contrast was intoxicating: the rough scrape of hay against her back, the wet heat of the farmer’s wife’s mouth hovering over her clit, the *living* thing twisting inside her with unrelenting precision.
Vicky watched—her jaw slack around the stable hand’s cock—as Teresa’s stomach quivered with each movement of the eel, its outline visible beneath her skin like a second pulse. The sight sent a fresh wave of arousal dripping down Vicky’s thighs, her own cunt clenching around nothing as the calf’s tongue flicked faster against her oversensitive clit. The farmer’s wife chuckled—low and knowing—her fingers pressing harder against Teresa’s lower belly, forcing the eel deeper. Teresa’s moan was ragged—her thighs trembling—as the creature’s tail flicked against her cervix, the sharp burst of pleasure-pain making her toes curl. "Fuck—yes—" she gasped, her hips jerking forward instinctively, her fingers scrabbling against the hay bale as the eel’s movements grew more frantic, its body twisting in tight, pleasure-drunk circles.
The stable hand groaned—his cock twitching against Vicky’s tongue—as Linda arched off the bale, her thighs slick with sweat and the eel’s glistening trail. The farmer’s fingers pressed down on her lower belly, guiding the creature’s path as it spiraled deeper, its scales catching against her swollen walls with each pulse. Linda’s breath hitched—her cunt fluttering around the eel’s writhing form—as the farmer’s wife leaned down, her lips brushing Linda’s ear. "You like that, don’t you?" she murmured, her voice rough with approval. "Feeling it *move* inside you?" Linda couldn’t speak—could only nod—her body jerking with each undulation, her stomach quivering beneath the farmer’s calloused hands. The eel’s tail flicked against her clit again—sharp and electric—and she came with a shattered cry, her thighs clamping around nothing as her orgasm ripped through her.
Vicky watched—her jaw slack around the stable hand’s cock—as Linda’s stomach quivered with each movement of the eel, its outline visible beneath her skin like a second pulse. The sight sent a fresh wave of arousal dripping down Vicky’s thighs, her own cunt clenching around nothing as the calf’s tongue flicked faster against her oversensitive clit. The farmer’s wife chuckled—low and knowing—her fingers pressing harder against Teresa’s lower belly, forcing the eel deeper. Teresa’s moan was ragged—her thighs trembling—as the creature’s tail flicked against her cervix, the sharp burst of pleasure-pain making her toes curl. "Fuck—yes—" she gasped, her hips jerking forward instinctively, her fingers scrabbling against the hay bale as the eel’s movements grew more frantic, its body twisting in tight, pleasure-drunk circles.
The stable hand groaned—his cock twitching against Vicky’s tongue—as Linda arched off the bale, her thighs slick with sweat and the eel’s glistening trail. The farmer’s fingers pressed down on her lower belly, guiding the creature’s path as it spiraled deeper, its scales catching against her swollen walls with each pulse. Linda’s breath hitched—her cunt fluttering around the eel’s writhing form—as the farmer’s wife leaned down, her lips brushing Linda’s ear. "You like that, don’t you?" she murmured, her voice rough with approval. "Feeling it *move* inside you?" Linda couldn’t speak—could only nod—her body jerking with each undulation, her stomach quivering beneath the farmer’s calloused hands. The eel’s tail flicked against her clit again—sharp and electric—and she came with a shattered cry, her thighs clamping around nothing as her orgasm ripped through her.
"Me too!" Vicky screamed, the words muffled around the stable hand’s cock, her thighs trembling with desperation. She arched against the calf’s relentless tongue, her clit swollen and oversensitive, her cunt clenching around nothing as she watched Teresa writhe beneath the eel’s sinuous movements. The farmer’s wife chuckled—low and dark—as she reached for another eel, its sleek body twisting in her grip like liquid shadow. Vicky’s breath hitched as the creature slithered against her inner thigh, its cool scales sending goosebumps erupting across her skin, the sensation almost *alive* against her overheated flesh.
The eel flicked its tongue against Vicky’s slit—once, twice—before pushing inside with a slow, deliberate twist. Vicky gasped, her back arching off the hay-strewn floor as the creature coiled deep within her, its movements sinuous and *knowing*, as if it had mapped her body before she had. The stretch was exquisite—cool and slick and utterly foreign—the eel’s undulations sending ripples of pleasure through her exhausted cunt. Its tail brushed against her cervix, sharp and electric, before spiraling deeper, its body twisting in tight, pleasure-drunk circles that made Vicky’s vision blur at the edges.
The farmer’s wife smirked, pressing down on Vicky’s lower stomach with one calloused palm, nudging the eel deeper inside her. The pressure was relentless—forcing the creature’s writhing form against Vicky’s g-spot with each undulation—until Vicky’s thighs trembled, her toes curling against the stable floor. "Feel that?" the woman murmured, her thumb tracing the outline of the eel beneath Vicky’s skin, its sleek body visible beneath her flushed belly. Vicky could only nod, her breath hitching as the eel’s tail flicked against her clit—once, twice—before coiling tight around her cervix, the sensation bordering on unbearable.
Linda whimpered beside her, her own eel twisting deeper inside her with a wet, sinuous glide, its scales catching against her swollen walls. The farmer’s hands gripped her hips, holding her open as the creature pulsed inside her—its movements timed to the sharp, rhythmic strokes of the stable hand’s cock thrusting into Linda’s mouth. The contrast was dizzying: the rough scrape of hay against Linda’s back, the wet heat of the eel undulating inside her, the thick stretch of the man’s cock hitting the back of her throat with each snap of his hips.
Teresa’s thighs trembled as her eel coiled tighter, its tail flicking against her clit in sharp, erratic bursts. She arched off the hay bale, her fingers scrabbling for purchase as the farmer’s wife leaned down, her tongue tracing the outline of the eel beneath Teresa’s skin. The sensation was electric—the cool, wet drag of the woman’s tongue following the creature’s writhing path—until Teresa’s breath hitched, her cunt fluttering around nothing as the eel’s movements grew more frantic.
Vicky’s vision blurred as her own eel pulsed inside her, its scales catching against her swollen walls with each sinuous twist. The farmer’s wife pressed down harder on her belly, forcing the creature deeper, until Vicky could feel its tail brushing against her cervix—sharp, insistent—before coiling tight. The pressure was unbearable, the pleasure bordering on pain, as the eel’s undulations sent ripples through her exhausted body. She gasped, her thighs clamping around nothing as the creature’s tail flicked against her clit again—sharp and electric—before spiraling deeper.
Beside her, Teresa arched off the hay bale with a ragged moan, her stomach quivering beneath the farmer’s wife’s calloused hands. The eel inside her twisted in tight, frantic circles, its movements timed to the rough thrusts of the stable hand’s cock pumping into her mouth. Teresa’s thighs trembled—her cunt fluttering around nothing—as the creature’s tail flicked against her g-spot again and again, the sharp bursts of pleasure-pain making her toes curl against the stable floor. Her breath hitched—a choked, desperate sound—as the farmer’s wife leaned down, her tongue tracing the outline of the eel beneath Teresa’s skin, following its writhing path with deliberate precision.
All three women were pushing their hips in the air. Looking as if they were having some kind of fit. They were writhing with nothing around them to give an observer a clue as to what was taking place inside them.
Finally the farmer stepped forward and turned off the cameras and lights. It was time to go. The eels were extracted as the girls all whimpered and told to clean up for the trip home.
Vicky’s thighs still trembled as Teresa’s fingers traced lazy circles between them in the backseat, their skin sticky with sweat and something darker. The memory of the eel’s sinuous movements inside her made her clench around nothing—a phantom pulse that had her biting her lip hard enough to taste copper. Teresa’s thumb swiped over her clit, rough and knowing, and Vicky arched into the touch with a shudder. "Still feel it?" Teresa murmured, her breath hot against Vicky’s ear. The question wasn’t teasing—it was reverence.
The car rolled to a stop in Linda’s driveway, gravel crunching under the tires like bones. Linda’s husband emerged from the house, his silhouette framed by the porch light, his expression unreadable as he circled to the trunk. When he popped it open, the faint glow of the aquarium’s filter illuminated three sleek bodies twisting in the water—their scales catching the light like oil slicks. Vicky’s breath hitched; the eels moved with the same liquid grace they’d had inside her, their undulations hypnotic. Teresa’s grip tightened on her thigh. Linda had a huge smile on her face.
Linda’s husband tossed the keys to Teresa with a smirk, his fingers lingering just a second too long. "Consider them yours, " he said, his voice rough with something that wasn’t just amusement. "Anytime you want them." The implication hung in the air, thick as the humidity clinging to their skin. Vicky’s pulse kicked—her cunt clenching around nothing—as she remembered the way the creatures had *moved* inside her, their sinuous bodies mapping her deepest contours like they’d been made for her. Teresa’s fingers traced the outline of Vicky’s still-trembling belly through her dress, her touch feather-light but deliberate. Linda was heard to allow a short chuckle before entering the house.
The eels were secured in the front room, a curiousity to anyone seeing them but something different to the three women who knew what they could do.