He Cock Too Big For Her Gotdamn Cunt
Jackson and Sam were definitely an odd couple.
It wasn't often, after all, you saw a massive Shire walking hand in hand with a doe. Even less for the pair to be engaged, an engagement necklace proud on the doe's fine neck.
And then, of course, there was the fact that his massive cock was as wide around as she was.
Jackson and Sam were definitely an odd couple.
It wasn't often, after all, you saw a massive Shire walking hand in hand with a doe. Even less for the pair to be engaged, an engagement necklace proud on the doe's fine neck.
The thing, though, was that Jackson stood several feet taller than Sam. Was several times thicker than her in every way. Nothing was better than curling up in bed together, the massive stallion wrapped around her protectively, a massive line of warmth - her own personal heater.
But any time they'd tried to get intimate... well, it didn't go well. He was large even for a Shire - his cock so wide around it was almost thicker than her. She'd taken one look when they'd gotten particularly heated while kissing one day, and nearly keeled over dead of pure shock.
They'd known they'd need to start slow. So every few days, whenever they got heated and needy, he'd kneel between her legs. Work her open with his lips and flexible tongue, spread her as wide as he could with his fingers until she came, over and over, and then when she couldn't come any more he'd rut against her stomach until he came, covering her stomach with rope after rope of his cum until her tawny fur was soaked white. They'd curl up together then, the stallion wiping her clean as he praised her for stretching wider even more than the time before, "Soon you'll be able to take me Sammy," and she'd shake and shiver and moan at the thought.
Finally, he set her down on his cock, and tried to work her over. But he was just too damn wide - she could use him as a seat. Did, in fact, as he tried to push into her. But she sat on him like a stool, panting, her pupils blown wide with arousal, grinding down in desperation as her slick dripped down to mix with his fluids, his pre-cum soaking the tawny fur of her thighs and mound. "Damn," he grunted, carefully taking her hips in hand (he could easily touch his fingers together) and rocking her back and forth, trying to work into her but finding it futile - he'd been sure he'd stretched her enough, prepared her enough, gotten her used to taking his arm so surely she could fit his penis? But apparently not, her legs weren't even touching the ground, she'd have fallen off if it weren't for his grip.
He didn't even have the luck to have a pointed cock, one that could stretch her slowly. His was a coke-bottle's (they liked to joke it was a cock-bottle), round and flared at the tip, then a bit more narrow, then thicker and thicker until even he couldn't get his hands around the base. If she couldn't even get the tip in her, of course, there was no way she could take the base that would split her in half.
So they settled for grinding, the horse dropping one hand from her hip, careful not to let her lose her balance, to hold the thinner part beneath his head in place so he could drag her back and forth on top of the massive, flared head, pressing against every part of her mound, the doe lolling her head back as it pressed against her lips, spread them wide, dragged along her clit. It twitched, nearly threw her off, squirted pre-cum up onto her stomach, messed up her mound, and she moaned a pitiful sound, the horse lolling his head back at the sound, "Good girl."
They ground, and groaned, and rolled, and before long every heartbeat jerked his cock, splattered her with his mess, and heat curled tighter and tighter in their groins. They're close, closer and closer and, finally, he stretched his thumb to press against her clit and set her off; she bleated, her hips rolling with no rhythm, head snapping back to bare the fine curve of her throat, her delicate chest rising and falling rapidly as she bleated, over and over, and her fluids made a mess of her mound and his cock.
Jackson threw his head back with a loud whinny, the bucking of his hips that followed nearly throwing Sam, only his grip tightening keeping her atop his cockhead, and he whinnied, over and over, as he came forcefully, shooting rope after rope of cum that soaked her cunt, her thighs, her stomach and her chest and even her face, the doe flattening her ears as she had to close her eyes against it.
His cock softened and he pulled his much smaller partner to lie against his heaving chest, arching his neck to lip between her ears. "Good girl, love you so much," and she nuzzled into the thick fur of his chest, too exhausted to respond.
How were they to know that he'd ejaculated with such force that some of his seed had shot up into her, up through her channel, some of it managing to make it passed her cervix to pool in her womb and set to work?