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It was a little late for a morning jog, close to noon in fact, and Toru had some catching up to do. It was sunnier, warmer, almost a little bit too humid, but he was a tough caribou who recently immigrated from Australia. The path he took was full of shade from old, proud trees anyway, and he liked the scent of the prairie grass once the morning dew burned off.

Living out in the country wasn't nearly as bad as he'd thought it would be. It was the perfect place to unwind after so much time in a city. Every day he spent felt regenerative, and his rural property was spacious enough that he could walk around it naked most of the time. Being a tall and muscular jock with a healthy amount of narcissism, Toru enjoyed being able to strut nude around what he owned.

He'd seen the Friar farm dozens of times. It was like any other farm out in the country: it had cornfields, a barn, a nice little homestead. Usually on his morning jogs he saw Mr. Friar out on the tractor or working the silo. He was a big and friendly Tennessee Walker with a drawl and a fondness for ten-gallon hats. Toru expected to see Mr. Friar today, but he saw someone else this time. It was a she - and of that there was no doubt. She was too young to be Mr. Friar's wife but looked just like him in color and size.

The mare had a basket of peaches in her sturdy arms when Toru threw a hand up in a wave. He saw how she was dressed and his jog slowed considerably. He'd seen pretty country girls, but they'd been just that: pretty. Maybe a little homely. Usually awfully flat and plain, not that that had stopped him from plowing some of them. Toru had learned that farmgirls could throw down with the best of them.

This mare was different. Toru had never seen a woman so stacked. She had a flannel shirt on, unbuttoned but tied so it covered and supported her prodigious breasts. She smiled at him and he smiled back, and he walked into the fence with a grunt. The mare laughed and said, "Golly, mister, but ain't you awful clumsy."

"The sun was in my eyes," the caribou muttered. He had recovered in no time. Without much shame he sized her up and he liked what he saw: titanic breasts, broad hips, and a very fat ass. She was pretty in the face, too, with big blue eyes and a straight, sweet smile. Her fur glistened with sweat, but so did his; it was close to ninety today, and the humidity was unbearable.

"What you got there? Peaches?" Toru asked, nodding at the basket.

"Oh, yep. Want one?" She held up the basket and her smile widened.

Just to be polite, he took one and ate it. He didn't care much for peaches, preferring apples and pears, but it was juicy and sweet. As he ate, she said, "Name's Mavis, Mavis Friar," and hugged the basket to her breasts so she could stick out a hand.

Toru shook it and said after swallowing the peach flesh, "Toru. Pleased to meet you, Mavis." He tossed the pit into the grass and said, "Never seen you around here, just your old man."

"Guess you just ain't looked hard enough for me, mister," Mavis said, voice both innocent and sultry in that farmgirl way. She set down the basket, bending unnecessarily low to do so. Toru stared into cleavage which seemed as bottomless and dark as an abyss. "Ya wanna come on over the fence and give me a little help up in the loft, mister Toru?"

The caribou grinned. "Sure thing. I've always been a helpful guy." He climbed over the wooden fence easily and followed the mare into the barn. Up a ladder, then another, shorter one into the hayloft. Without warning the mare pushed a kiss on the caribou. Slobbery lips locked, tongues entangled. Her hand went for his crotch, squeezed his cock through his shorts; Toru was already hard. He fished his hands into her flannel and cupped her massive tits. As his fingers slid over the sweaty, hot mounds, he groaned into her mouth.

Mavis broke the kiss off and gasped, "Yer awful big, mister Toru."

"So are you, miss Mavis," the caribou grunted. "I'd like to shake your daddy's hand. These are some spectacular tits."

"Like 'em, do ya?" Mavis asked, grinning devilishly. She undid the knot and her tits tumbled free like fat, sweaty boulders. Hands on either side of Toru's head, she crushed his snout into her jugs, vanishing his face under the sweaty bulk.

The caribou groaned and nuzzled deep into the cleavage, smelling horse musk and sour sweat. His cock tented his shorts, bowed badly by the constricting fabric. He undid his shorts but was clumsy, alternating between handing the mare's tits and undressing.

"Gosh, all I can see is your antlers when I smoosh 'em down like this, mister," the mare cooed, utterly burying his face in her cleavage. "Hope I ain't makin' it hard for you to breathe."

Toru slobbered across the mare's tits. Mavis was so stacked that he didn't think he could coat her breasts with drool without dying from dehydration. He pawed clumsily at her big, wobbling boobs, groping and rubbing and kneading. Slapping them around, making them jiggle and squish. He smacked his lips onto a big, gray nipple and gave it a suck, and the mare moaned for him.

"Fuck, I've never seen so much titty on one girl," Toru effused, packing his snout between them again. He smelled her sweat, licked over the deep cleavage and mashed them against the sides of his face. "Jesus Christ, baby, you could knock yourself out if you jumped on a trampoline. These things got names?"

Mavis laughed. She pinned the caribou to the wooden floor and smacked a kiss on his forehead. She indulgently rubbed her groin against his own; his fat cock throbbed under a jockstrap, red and saturated with sweat. She grumbled, "Feels like ya got a big ol' pecker, mister Toru. Big enough for my titties, ya think?"

The caribou grinned enormously. Such massive tits tended to have that effect on him, reducing him to a horny teenager. He smooshed his snout into them, slobbered them, grumbled and snorted. "Let's find out, baby. Lemme paint these big fucking boobs of yours."

"Gosh, but you city slickers got such foul mouths," said Mavis with a grin. "Well it's just too much for a poor, simple farmgirl like me to bear." She shoved her fat tits onto his face, smearing sweat onto his snout, making him stink powerfully of mare musk. When she pulled back the caribou appeared dazed, but he was smiling.

"Let's just have a lookie-loo what's down here," cooed the well-stacked mare, jugs wobbling and shifting as she straightened on her knees. Greedily she yanked down the caribou's jockstrap. His penis, some ten inches of uncircumcised meat, sprung free. Slippery strands of precum dangled from its tip, and with every meaty pulse it spewed a few more.

"Whew, goddang," Mavis huffed, cupping his cock. She pecked a slobbery kiss on its shaft, another a little further down. Another, and another, lower and lower; and then she was smacking kisses on his balls, big and round things with a stripe of brown, coarse pubic hair along their seam. "Look at these big ol' nuts ya got, mister Toru," cooed the farmgirl, long tail giving a flick. "Why, I betcha can just cover my titties in your sticky stuff with balls like these."

"I can try, baby, I can sure as hell try," groaned Toru. "Lemme at 'em, babe, I need these big fucking jugs on my dick."

Mavis Friar straightened up and clutched her enormous breasts. There was simply no containing them; they tried to spill through her fingers, seeming more liquid than solid at times, and sweat dribbled off of their curves. Her nipples were stiff, thick nubs surrounded by tiny bumps, and she twiddled them in full view of the caribou. The way the sunlight sliced through the dusty air of the loft framed Mavis as if she was some farmgirl fertility goddess, and Toru panted and pawed clumsily at her tits. His cock throbbed violently, spurting fat globules of precum.

"I need those fucking ti-i-its," the caribou moaned. "Holy shit, baby, I need 'em..."

"Bet you do," giggled the farmgirl. She leaned over Toru, dragged her hot and heavy breasts over his groin and smacked a kiss on his lips. Toru kissed her back, slurped into her maw, and entangled their tongues. He felt over her head, rubbing her ears and over blonde hair tied in a Dutch braid.

Mavis pulled out of the kiss with a gap. Slobber bridged their maws, sparkling in the golden sunlight. "Yer a real good kisser, mister Toru, sir," she cooed. "Don't suppose ya kiss a lady below the belt?"

"I do, I'll do that all day," the caribou breathed, hands roaming all over those fat country tits. "But I need these first, then I'll do whatever the hell you want, babe!"

The tall mare with the big tits pecked a playful smooch on the caribou's snout, then made her way back down. Her breasts dragged across his penis again, smothering it under their heft. "Let's see now," she murmured. "This goes in here..." Mavis clutched his cock, not that there was much need to steady such a thick and sturdy piece of meat. She guided it into her cleavage and his penis, fat and lengthy as it was, vanished into the sweaty abyss. Already Toru was huffing and scraping his hooves on the floor. The sordid heat of her cleavage wasn't nearly as hot as pussy or ass, but it was so sticky with sweat and plush with fur that it was a pleasure without equal.

Mavis held onto her fat jugs and she started to push against the caribou. She pressed his cock between the mounds as hard as she could, but they were so plush that they simply squished and slipped around it. His precum leaked wildly, at times spurting out of her generous cleavage; once it hit her chin and she giggled, "Ooh, surprise! You're a real leaky fella, ain't ya, Toru?"

The caribou was stupid with pleasure, inarticulate in its grip. His legs were far apart, one hanging over the loft's edge. His cock throbbed in the embrace of her cleavage, painting the fur and the flesh with precum, making the mare stink of caribou musk on top of her own sweaty funk. Still Mavis was grinding on him, bouncing on him, vanishing huge swaths of his toned stomach, hips and legs under her stupendous bosoms. He blurted, "Aw, fuck. Holy shit."

"Ooh, if mama heard, she'd wash your mouth out with soap," tutted Mavis, grinning toothily. She kept her jugs mashed together and worked them with far too much skill for this to be first or even fifth time titfucking some lucky guy. She was beginning to huff, but a little exercise didn't bother her. Sweat gleamed all over her body and her musk was getting heady in the loft, but Toru certainly didn't mind.

"Fuck-, fuck, baby," Toru shuddered. He pawed inelegantly at her breasts, just groping and kneading wherever he could as they squished and smooshed around his penis. His loins tingled with pleasure, big fat balls tightening up, cock throbbing and loosing big, vulgar spurts of natural lubrication. "Ooh, fuck, Mavi-i-is... those are just about the best fuckin' jugs I've ever felt..."

The mare giggled so sweetly that it was music to the caribou's ears. He bit his lip and he squeezed on her jugs, gazed into her eyes and bucked against her eager bouncing and grinding. Mavis pushed against him and slid his cock through her cleavage and over the big, plush curves of her tits again and again. His meat slid on a coating of precum and sweat, more than enough fluid to keep the sex slick. Toru was groaning, huffing through his nostrils, looking desperate and horny in equal measures.

With a groan, Toru threw his head back, antlers clattering on the loft floor. He arched his back and mashed his crotch into the mare's breasts. Mavis pushed back and tried to pin him down. "You gonna shoot? You shootin, cowboy?" she asked lowly, speaking in a sultry voice. Mavis kept going as he groaned and bucked until finally he came. Thick white slop shot out of her cleavage and landed everywhere on the curves, splattering all over the big tan mounds of her breasts. It drenched her neck and chin and formed a bib on her. Some of it hung messily off her lip. She gasped, "Ooh, dang, mister Toru, but you were so pent up," and she lapped at her lip, tasting the caribou's semen.

"Ho-o-oly shit," Toru groaned, strain thick in his voice. He clutched at the floor and kicked his hooves against it. He was trying to buck but Mavis smooshed him down with her great weight. His cum was still shooting, gushing out of her cleavage, spurting onto his chest and belly. He watched helplessly as she milked him with her tits. He could see his seed gumming in her cleavage, webbing in it and making the fur glint. He bleated, "F-fuck, baby, holy fuck... mercy, I got nothing left to shoot!"

Mavis squeezed his meat and pumped it until she was satisfied that there was indeed nothing left in the magazine. Only then did she slowly and deliberately pull herself up. Toru's cock was flaccid; once it cleared her cleavage it flopped onto his belly and drooled what remained of its load onto his washboard stomach. Semen dripped from the horse's cleavage, a vulgar display that put a big smile on the caribou's face. She cooed, "Lookit that, mister Toru. You really did paint 'em good..."

"I sure as shit did," Toru shuddered. "Hallelujah, that was a hell of a nut."

The mare was wet and needy. Toru's cock looked more than ample for what was on her mind. She unbuttoned her shorts - what else but ragged Daisy Dukes? - and shimmed out of them, baring a fat tan ass glimmering with sweat and a plush, gray equine pussy, the clitoris involuntarily winking. She climbed over the deer, laid on him, let her sticky tits flatten against his hard chest. Their lips locked in a lazy but sloppy kiss. Toru took hold of the mare's ass, squeezed the fat cheeks, traced his digits between them and tickled the plush doughnut of her anus. He'd have some of that later, oh yes, but the tits were the main attraction.

"Damn, girl," Toru huffed. "Fat titties, fat ass, great kisser... cute accent, too. Your daddy lookin' to marry you off?"

Mavis giggled. "Ma-a-aybe, mister Toru. But before we go talking marriage, how about you do a little something for me?"

Toru huffed and grinned. Already his cock was stiffening up. He held onto her big ass and said, "Anything, baby. Anything you want."