FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Scarlet lifted the spoon to her mouth, chewed on the cereal, and listened to her heartbeat in her head. The dawn had broken to no great effect, the light outside had gone merely from non-existent to a hard grey. Scarlet had awoken, to her dismay and surprise, as horny as the night before; despite having slept in a bed thoroughly wet with the juices from from her plethora of masturbation during the night.

Now she was restless, trying to calm herself down with normal activities and deep breathing. Attempts to get into carving had simply led to her thinking how phallic the big handled hammer looked. Every time she went to breathe deeply, her massive breasts would rock up and down, and she would simply end up imagining a cock between them.

It was a totally ridiculous situation, Scarlet had never felt anywhere near this aroused. She was simply sitting still and trying to eat, hoping to calm herself. She cursed the semi-darkness, and as if on cue, she heard a soft hum as the power clicked back into life, and the lights blinked on around her.

She heaved out a long sigh. The light seemed to bring some sense of normality back to her, and as the gloom dispersed, she felt her sex somewhat calm. Her breasts, only a moment ago having seemed lusciously enormous, seemed their normal size again. Scarlet shook her head and reached for the remote and flicked the TV back on.

The weather channel flashed onto the screen. Scarlet didn't know whether to be happy or aggrieved, as the screen showed an announcer pointing gravely to thunderclouds and warning signs across the map. The storm looked like a real rarity, and the weatherman gravely predicted that the storm was set to last, on and off, for a week.

There were some flood warnings, but a respite from the rain. If not, the wind was predicted sometime tomorrow. Face passive, the mare looked at the glass, as the water swirled and danced, the storm pressed at the walls of her house, like a living presence. The surface of the horse's mind was turbulent, and disturbed.

She stood up and carried her bowl to the sink; steeling her emotions as she moved, keeping her motions smooth and neat. She washed the dishes, losing herself in the repetition of scrubbing and rinsing. Her thoughts wandered oddly to the farmer, who certainly wouldn't be getting the slates for his Granary today. His barn would be awash already with last nights rain.

She stacked the last bowl on the draining board and turned to lean back against the sink and wish hard that there could be some activity to take her mind off things. The phone lines were, unlike the power were still down. It had been a falling telegraph pole landing on the substation at the end of the island's bridge that had killed the power in the first place. John had headed out early to take a look, and evidently had manged to get it going again.

As she thought of John again, Scarlet chewed her lip in consternation. He'd be back before long but she was surprised he hadn't already arrived. Unless he had some other thing to fix. She stepped forward, dismissing the thought with a frown. Now, she felt yet again, drawn by the power of the weather.

Water drew shifting spirals across the glass, but she could barely see. She pulled back the glass, and stepped out. Water poured down on her, and the wind was a welcome slap in the face after the tensions of the kitchen. She looked towards the bridge, and saw John, setting up some sort of rigging to pull the telegraph pole off of the substation with the Shogun. She stared for a moment, the water drawing false tears down her cheeks as she stepped down to the stone way and walked out into the cover of the Arboretum.

She wandered into the recesses of the lake-side garden, as the weather roared at her, and tugging at her shirt. She looked down, and her eyes widened as she realised she was totally soaked. The white shirt did nothing to hide her hard nipples, the lounge pants clung to her, see-through. She hastily looked about, eager to remain unseen, but there was no way John would spot her from here; and anyway, he would be busy with the pole.

Walking through the willows and oaks, she ran her hand across their slick, yet rough, trunks, and marvelled at the lack of cover they offered against rainfall this immense. Soaked through, she reached the centre of the Arboretum, which consisted of a small circle of grass, surrounded by a low wall. Scarlet walked in through the picket gate.

The grass was slick beneath her nude feet, and she sat on the low wall, watching the rain that slashed the sky around her. The Arboretum waved in the wind. 'What am I doing out here... This is insane. I'm sitting outside, in a gale, dressed like a whore.' She was wet, but not cold, the air of the storm was warm, and she could feel her passions rising. She imagined John's tool and dropped to her knees from the wall to the ground, lying back in the grass.

Lying there, she ripped away her shirt, hair across her breast slick with rain. She then pulled off her loungers to lay completely naked in the storm, writhing in the grass and digging channels of mud. The sensation was so free, so liberating. She thrust her fingers into her throbbing sex, and massaged her clit and walls. She brayed out loud, roaring her pleasure to the winds, and arched her back as she thrust more fingers inside herself. Mud slopped round her round arse and back, as she revelled in the sheer carnal pleasure of the storm, filling her brain with filth, wishing for a mate.

She pulled one hand from herself, jerking in joy, and switched to the other, stuffing the first, honey-laden fist into her mouth and licking it clean, tongue flicking across her digits. She thrust her new hand into her cunt, deeper, bunching it inside, her body squirming like a snake, in pure ecstasy.

Her mind raced with images of cock, and as she pictured being filled, she came, spraying her dew across the grass. With eyes wild, she jumped to the pool and licked the grass clean, licking her hands and swallowing her honey. Done, she laid back. She couldn't believe the ferocity her sexuality had shown, and her body was already tired. Grinning widely, her eyes closed.

Above in the clouds, the presence moved again, feeling the mind below. It descended, riding on the rain that soaked the creature's body, and like a finger tracing the curves of a lover, it caressed her brain, feeding her mind.

She stood on an island, looking down. Far away, so far, the green hills played out, masked by the eternally falling rain. The surface upon which she stood was of cloud, and ice. Gently, a lattice of frozen liquid was tracing it's way up her hooves, but she felt no cold. Her vision seemed odd, as if she were looking through a hundred pairs of eyes, and she could feel the squall and pull of the storm.

She stepped forward off of her clouded throne, and fell through the air, like hail, the rain touching her skin as she dropped. Above the stone bridge, awash with rain, she halted her descent. It seemed to take no effort, as the wind buoyed her up, holding her in a loving embrace against the storm's immense power. The surface of the air was like some giant's hand, and all about her she felt the immensity of the storm, soaking through her pores like liquid flame, lighting her mind even as it drenched her short hair.

With eyes gazing, she looked out through the sweeping curtains of rain, at the bull labouring on the stone ramp, pulling at ropes and hooks, struggling to encircle the windswept frame of the shattered tree; he took no notice of the airborne horse. With outstretched hand, the horse whinnied softly, and a blast of wind buffeted the bull, nearly knocking him down. She hovered, considering blowing him off his feet; yet suddenly a thunderclap sounded behind her, and the wind turned her about, facing across the lake.

"Is it not... wonderful?" The voice was sonorous, like rolling thunder, or the rippling wind. Scarlet's mind observed the turbulent surface of the lake, roiling in the wind. "Will you hold me, little one? I am becoming weary of my rage. You shall be my settling and my refuge. My embrace is the call of the storm. Do with that as you will, little one." The horse nodded, slowly, as the voice faded into the wash of the falling rain, leaving her with a profound sense of loss, coupled with an exhilarating feeling of the wind's call. She descended, and her storm-borne form faded into so much mist.

A gasp, and the rush of light into eyes. It is like the breaking of dawn over mist, hard and cold. The sensation of rain against flesh, and mud on hair. Cold air, and soft earth. The horse struggles to her feet, like a swimmer breaking the surface. All around the storm is heaving, the trees sway like a chorus of hands, crying for water.

The mare sways, and walks along the path of soaked stone; her frame is claggy with mud, and the clothes she has donned run with the storm's rain. As she walks silently, hurriedly, her head is down, but she does not shiver. After some time, passing through the tiny forest, the horse pulls open a door of swimming glass, and leaves the attentions of the howling wind for the protection of stone and slate.

John braced himself against the watery swirl, with gritted jaw. He tugged at a flapping rope, and finally managed to bring the ends of the cord together, yanking them back toward the truck. Grunting, the bull heaved a final time, and the fallen log was secured tight to the Shogun's towbar. The mud under his hooves had been churned by his efforts, and he rested on his haunches, chest rising and falling heavily as the rain and wind continued to batter the ramp, and the bull frowned at the substation's bent frame.

Turning off the transformers power supply and connecting to the reserve had been a fiddly task thanks to the cables being slick with rain, but he'd managed, and if he could get the tree off of the power enclosure, they might manage to hold onto the electricity through the storm. As it was, it was seriously at risk of blowing off the transformer and crushing the cabling, and the bull didn't fancy having to come out into the storm again any time soon to repair the line. He snorted, steam rising from his nostrils, and walked to the truck, pulling open the door.

‘Damnit this is heavy. I'll have to clean out the damn car.' The bull sighed, and clambered in anyway, soaking the leather seat, and shifting uncomfortably. He started the 4x4, and gently began to push, feeling the weight of the tree. The trunk groaned, moving, and with a soft thud came free of the transformer, as the Shogun tugged the small beech free of the crushed fence.

He pulled it to the verge, and shifted the tow-lever, releasing the tree. He looked back at the trail of branches, mud and broken fencing with a sigh, wiping water from his eyes. The truck rolled forward with a rush of muddy wheels, wipers brushing, futile against the torrential rain. Tired and soaked through, John turned the truck around and headed back for the comfort of the house, glancing uneasily at the fury of the leaden sky, as thunder rolled about the valley.

Scarlet sat in her bathroom, wrapped in towels and slowly feeling the warmth come back into her limbs. She tried to organise her thoughts, grasping her skull, grinding her teeth. But her normally so precise mind was cluttered and confused. For a fair time she simply rested, considering what had happened while she had writhed in the madness of the rain. The bathroom was tiled all around, soft yellow-white light bathing the form of the restless equine as she sat in thought, hooves occasionally tapping softly against the wall.

After some time, she stood, placing a hand gently on the sink, and breathed out, shaking her mane gently. Walking into her bedroom, she dressed slowly, drawing jeans and a shirt over herself, stretching her muscles and pulling a wide leather belt about her, buckling it. With a glance in the mirror, she felt she freshened and her mind seemed to have cooled with her brief rest. The shaking of the storm-winds in her ears had faded, even while the winds themselves still strained at the walls of the house that perched on the watery island.

The bull looked up at the house. It was half obscured by the driving weather, yet it's frame stood out; imposing, almost Gothic in the mist of spray. He rushed from the truck, scrambling into the house through the soaked portal, and closed the door heavily behind him.

The rain rolled off him, soaking the stone flags beneath his feet, and he grabbed a towel from an ornate cabinet by the door, which he had left earlier, expecting a soaking. The bull looked about the open plan room as he dried his hair, peeling off his shirt and shivering somewhat.

The lights lit up the central table, the seating area with it's soft armchairs, the kitchen and stove, and the heavy oak staircase that ran up on the right hand side of the hall. The room was quiet save for the wind, and seemed calm and safe, warm after the buffeting weather. John wrapped the towel about his naked form and walked toward the stairs, eager to rest after his exertions.

"Oh, hello John." He stopped suddenly, and turned.

Scarlet stepped out of the workshop, lightly sprinkled in wood shavings. She held a chisel in one hand and a mug in the other; wearing her carpenter's apron. She looked up and spoke again; "Heard you come in, thanks for going out there. Do you want some tea?" The bull smiled at the mare and shook his still-damp head, holding onto his towel with one hand, and gesturing with the other to show that he was fine.

"It's alright miss. I think I'll go and get some sleep if you don't need any more help?" Scarlet nodded back, returning the smile.

"Of course, John. You must be exhausted! Go, rest and I'll see you later, then." The bull gave a small wave and headed on up, his heavy form causing the solid stairs to creak slightly. He was tired to the bone, and went straight to his room. Without even bothering to wash or dress as he had planned. He dried himself a little more, and climbed onto his bed, lying on top of the covers in the warm room. He closed his eyes with a deep yawn, and fell into a heavy sleep within minutes.

The door creaked slightly, and she froze. Letting out a soft breath, the golden mare slipped into the room, crouching, and looked at the bed in the centre of the room, tongue slightly out and head cocked. Her heart was fluttering and she took light breaths, preserving her silence as she stole across the floor toward the sleeping bull, coming to a stop at the foot of his resting place.

She began to stand up, carefully. The idea had come to her as soon as John had mentioned that he was going to bed, and she thought that with his being a heavy sleeper, as well as his current exhaustion, she might go unnoticed. As her nervousness threatened to overflow, the mare leaned forward with utmost care, and placed a knee, followed by a hand on the double bed. Her eyes sparkled with lust as she crept forth, eyes locked on the sleeping face of the bull. Sweat beaded her brow, and with the slightest tremor her hand stretched out, reaching delicately, like the lightest touch of a butterfly landing, for his bare crotch.

John stirred, ever so softly. His thoughts were groggy with sleep and he shifted slowly, stretching somewhat. Suddenly he felt the brush of a hand, and heard the intake of breath, and his thoughts raced into action, as the bull quickly feigned sleep, keeping his eyes closed, straining his ears. His mind woke instantly, and he was alert in a moment.

'What the hell?' Thought the bull, and he waited, breathing level, still listening intently. 'There's no way... It can't be her!' But after several agonizing minutes, the disbelieving bovine felt that hand brush again, and the touch of fingers, stealing like wind across his member. As they touched him, the bull barely restrained a deep blush, feeling the heat pushing toward his cheeks; and his member stirred rapidly, beginning to harden. He held on, heart thumping like a frightened child's. The touch increased, seemed eagerly to greet his rising manhood, and gently the strokes began as the bull's penis gorged on blood and rose to it's full height, held high by the tender hand, and beginning to throb.

Scarlet licked her lips, in anticipation as well as her own disquietude. She kept her strokes gentle and steady, eyes playing over the surface of the large member as it bucked slightly beneath her hand. She gulped back her tribulations and kept moving her hand softly, shifting her own position somewhat. She was tempted to bring her mouth to bear, but was sure it would wake him, despite his heavy sleep.

Biting her lip, she knelt up, and put a hand to his large balls, tenderly fondling them as carefully as she could. She smelt the bull's musk rising, and her nostrils flared as she shuddered at the perfect scent. She stroked slightly faster, feeling the balls tighten beneath her gentle grip, and grinned to herself, brow still sweaty, as she felt the bull's reaction.

John felt his body twitch at the relentless attentions of the mare, and he desperately tried to conceal the clenching of his teeth. If he let his jaw hang loose, his moans would surely spill out, and the ruse would be up. The bull gripped the sheets tight with a hand, hidden under his pillow, in an attempt to vent his passions. He couldn't believe what was happening, but he sure as hell wasn't going to complain. If miss thought he was sleeping, he would damn well make sure things stayed that way. He was sure she would hear the roar of his heart, or even, as he felt pre spill from his tip, see the intense flush of his cheeks.

The mare lost her abandon as she saw the jewel of pre, and began to jack the cock hard, with long, fast, two-handed strokes up and down it's entire length. She saw the bull's legs twitch, and froze for just a second, watching his face, then satisfied turned her gaze back to the cock and kept milking it.

As she felt it move and strain, she bent her long neck down, opened her maw, hungrily sliding her mouth onto the cock-tip; and gave it a final stroke. She heard a grunt, and a thick jet of hot cum burst between her lips, which she swallowed eagerly. Another spurt flew, and another, filling her mouth, and as she swallowed again and again, seed dribbled out in glistening strands, crawling down his bucking penis.

Finally the flow of milk ended, and the mare gave a single, rapid bob of her head, cleaning the shaft of cum as she took it into her throat. She came up with a quiet gasp, licking her lips free of his spooge. She panted, chest heaving, and looked intently at the bull. Now that the deed was over, it seemed infinitely foolish, and she was sure he must have awoken. But yet he seemed to rest still... The mare ran a finger across her chin, swallowed the last gathered mouthful of cream, and fled the room on tiptoes.

On the bed the bull moaned, and stroked his still-hard tool.

In her room, exhausted by the thrill, Scarlet dozed.

Once again, an island of cloud, rain and lightning sleeting about her. But this time the sonorous voice came quickly, and with it a presence more powerful than before. She could see nothing but carpets of cloud, and walls of wind.

"There is little time now. You will hold me, little mammal. You will feel my full passions. I must release myself, or else this storm will not end. Find a release of your own, and the storm will, in time, pass. But things may yet become fiercer. Do not underestimate these winds. Your body will, I am sure, guide you. Animals seem to take their own steps. Fare careful, little one." With a roar of thunder, and a burst of light like a thousand suns, the eyes of the mare snapped open. For a mere moment, their sockets glowed.

Awake with thunder resonating in her head, she thought for a moment. Soon her mind was made up, and the storm that was howling in her mind egged her on. She rose from the bed, treading lightly, and walked to her drawers, hunting for clothes. As her hands searched and her eyes watched, she soon found what she was looking for, and an impish grin split the mare's face.

She glanced at her shapely hips in the mirror, and held the clothes up against them, considering their look. A quick, small, tearing tug completed them. They would serve perfectly. Feeling the heat rising in her, she strode to the stairs, heading down.

John sat at the table, wrestling with the battery compartment of a torch, finger prising at the stiff casing. He made a brief snarl of irritation and slapped the torch down on the table, standing and turning for the stove as he noted the growing hunger in his belly.

From the wide oaken staircase he heard the click of hooves, and as he reached for a packet of pasta, he turned to look up with a smile.

The smile froze on his face, and his words of greeting emanated as a slight croak. For a second his jaw dropped, before he quickly snicked it closed again. Scarlet dismounted the last step and smiled sweetly at the frozen bull.

"Hi there John. Are you making lunch?" The bull coughed, cheeks flushing, and wrenched his eyes from his employer, eyes darting. After a second he looked back.

"Yes, miss... Just making some, um... pasta." He coughed again, the mare cocked her head, and he unintentionally looked her up and down. The golden horse stood tall, leaning against an upright beam, wearing a smile on her lips. As for her body, Scarlet was clothed in a pair of denim shorts, running barely to mid way down her thighs, and a fawn-coloured, skin-tight tank top that left nothing to the imagination. Her cleavage was displayed by a tantalizing inch of tear at the neck of the top, and her mane was plaited across her shoulders.

As he tore his gaze away again, she gently wiggled her hips. The outfit was a mile from her normal working clothes or business-like dresses.

"Great, I'm as hungry as anything!" Scarlet gave a tiny giggle and turned away from the bull. She walked, hips swaying, toward the door, looking back over her shoulder. "Well, I just need to go and get another chisel from the barn. I'll see you soon." The bull gulped and nodded as she picked up a raincoat, swung it about her shoulders and walked out into the yard. Breathing out slowly, John shook his head quickly and turned back to the stove, clearing his thoughts with the familiar steps of cooking.

As the rain beat down outside and the water in the pan began to heat, he noted that the mare had been gone some time, and shifted uneasily. He walked to the shelves and grabbed some onions, chopping them with steady hand, yet gently chewing his lips. The intercom on the wall buzzed, sending John jumping into the air.

"Say John; could you come out here a minute hun?" Her voice was soft. "I need a hand." The intercom clicked silent. John swallowed, and headed for the door.

Softly, his hooves padded into the dry warmth of the barn. It was dim, and the rain thundered softly on the roof above. The bull peered about, squinting into the gloom, and called out.

"Miss...?" He walked a little further, around the plough in the middle of the floor, and spotted a shape, standing at the barns far end. He stopped, frowning. "Scarlet, what's..." The words died in his throat. With a buzz the lights had clicked on, and Scarlet stood, leaning against a beam, eyes glittering in the glow of the bulbs above. The bull's face flushed.

"Hello there, John." The golden mare's legs were bare, and her arms were robed in long, red, silk gloves. She wore a corset, in a matching deep red, with a plunging cleavage that gripped the curves of her body, and her crotch was covered by a black lace thong. She stood, hips askance, with her tail swishing, her face in a deep grin, and tongue running across her teeth. She paced forward, arse swaying, and stopped a few meters from the Bull, hands on hips. "Quiet tonight, hun?" Her voice was husky and full of temptation.

John could feel sweat pricking his brow, and his mind boggled at the sight in front of him. He coughed with a slight squeak and blushed a deeper red. "Miss.. I.. umm.. Sorry miss do you want me to..." He squirmed uncomfortably under the grinning gaze of the mare and bit his lip. "Should I... I'll go.." He turned, stumbling slightly, and walked toward the door of the barn. After a few paces, a hoof reached out and deftly tripped him into the dry straw. He fell with a strangled cry, and a gentle kick flipped him onto his back. Scarlet stood above him with a small frown, and a hoof deliberately placed on his chest.

"Well now. For someone with your manners, John, I'm shocked. You can hardly just leave me out here in the barn after all the effort I've made, now can you." He could hear a tinge of amusement, and mischief in her voice as she cocked an eyebrow at the bull, lying in the dust. "Now then, seeing as you're not taking the initiative, I guess I'll have to lead, won't I?"

With that the mare pulled the knot on the back of her corset and let it drop onto the bulls chest, letting her chest drop free. The bull gulped. Scarlet took her hoof from him, and beckoned with a single hooked finger, grinning toothily at him. He hesitated for just a few moments, then smiled, and stood shyly, drawn by the allure of the female in front of him. Scarlet's grin widened and her eyes seemed to glow with light, as the beautiful mare leaned back against the body of the large plow. Thunder rolled.

The bull stepped forward, and tentatively put a hand onto Scarlet's hip, breaths hot and shallow. She responded with a soft murr, and John put a second hand onto her side, rubbing at the edge of her breast with his palm. As he moved in closer and locked lips with the horse, kissing her passionately their bodies touched. He pushed her back against the wooden lip of the plow, and his hands gripped her sides eagerly as a rumbling sound issued from his chest. The mare moaned into his lips and pushed her hips back against him, wiggling seductively.

"That's better." Her voice was husky, and John put a hand to her breast, gently stroking and massaging as he ground his groin against her, pressing her arse back against the makeshift wooden seat formed by the plow's wooden rim. Her arms wrapped around his back as their hips touched, and she felt the growing bulge of his erection pushing at her, as she kissed him deeply and writhed in pleasure.

"I think we should deal with that." She broke the kiss as she spoke, and grinned wickedly, dropping to her knees with a soft thud. Her hands reached for his waist, as her fingers flicked the button open, and pulled down his boxers. A semi-hard, already 9" bull member broke free, dangling in front of Scarlet. She wasted no time in putting her hands to it and wrapping her lips around its tip with an appreciative murr, eliciting a groan from the rapidly hardening bull.

John put his hands to scarlets long mane as she began to suck him, her maw taking in a few inches of cock, her tongue flicking around it's head and around his foreskin. She worked deeper as the cock strained to its full 13" glory, veins clear on it's surface. Her long head took in 6, then 8 inches, as she sucked eagerly, with lewd slurps; drool spilling from her lips.

He bucked unconsciously as she blew him, thrusting nearly all the way in, eliciting a tiny gag; but the mare redoubled her efforts, and with a working of her lips, and a slow push. She hilted his cock in her throat and grinned around the thick member. John grinned too, down at the stuffed face of the horse, and took the initiative, pulling out, then thrusting back, beginning to fuck her face. His large, pendulous balls clapped off her chin, wet with her drool, as he pushed her against the plow again, tipping her head back and pushing hard in and out of her maw.

Scarlet's moans were silenced, but her sex was dripping with wetness, and she slid a hand into her thong, fingering her clit and stroking the entrance to her cleft. She watched his face, eyes sparkling, as his tip spurted pre-cum into her mouth. Soon, she felt his cock and balls tighten, and as she fingered her pussy John came hard, spraying a jet of cum into her throat. As he pulled back, more sprays filled her mouth, as she desperately gulped the seed down, and a final trio of jets coated her face, cum running down her cheeks to coat her breasts and dripping from her lips as she gasped for breath, grinning widely.

"Now that's a better start..." She giggled, and wiped a strand of spooge into her mouth, licking her lips and swallowing eagerly. John grinned down at her again, and pointed to the plow.

"Ok then Scarlet. Bend over." His face was wicked, and he stroked his still gorged cock as the mare giggled again and leant over the plow's edge, wiggling her ass at the giant bull shaft. He pulled her soaked panties aside, tugging her tiny skirt up over her pert arse, and pushed his slick cock against her slit, murring and spanking her.

As Scarlet whinnied and shied, bucking back instinctively, he thrust inward, pushing 6" of cock into her pussy, and the whinny grew into a deep, guttural bray of passion, her knees knocking, as she gripped the plow hard. He moaned, kissing her neck, stroking her sides and breasts, and desperately he pushed again, nearly hilting inside of her. He needed to mate her.

"Do it... ghhnnff... Please..." She groaned, hands clawing at the plow, hooves digging ruts in the earthen floor. The bull didn't hesitate, and began to fuck her in earnest. Pushing in and out of her and pushing her body down against the plow and he caressed and kissed her. Mating passionately inside her, cock thrusting back and forth as he rutted her deeply again and again.

For what seemed like hours, they remained locked in each others embrace, John turning Scarlet over to lie on her back on the plow, her legs over his shoulders as they continued to fuck; moans, shouts, and lewd slurps filling the air. At length, they rolled into the straw, continuing to mate with a furious heat, until finally, as a pair, with screams of pleasure, they climaxed together. Seed filled her womb as her honey gushed out around their thighs. They lay, in the afterglow, wrapped in each others frames, kissing and clutching each other, for quite a time in the glorious warmth of each other embrace, until finally, they parted in a rush of spilled seed, and mutual laughter.

"Mmm... that was brilliant. I'm glad I called you out, stud." Scarlet murred, eyelids heavy, stroking the bulls chest. He smiled at her and nodded, then went back to stroking her hair, till she fell asleep, silent and calm amid the hay and the smell of the earth.

As dawn broke, A bull, carrying a sleeping mare, crossed the gloom of the yard. For now, the storm had calmed, and no rain fell. He watched the leaden skies, smiling, and took his lover to her bed.