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Jeannie Boyd sat on the porch in the early morning and sipped coffee and looked out over the farm.
My farm, she thought. All mine.
She felt a mixture of emotions: pride, a sense of accomplishment and, most of all, a feeling of contentment and satisfaction. She felt, she knew, that she had made the right choice in coming to the farm and settling down.
It had not been easy.
Six months before, she had been living in the city, pursuing a successful career. Then, fate had stepped in, as it often does. She received the news that her uncle had passed away and left her his farm.
Why her uncle would bequeath her the farm was a question Jeannie couldn’t answer with certainty. She hadn’t been particularly close to her uncle, and she hadn’t lived on a farm for years–not since she had left home after high school. She supposed it had something to do with the fact that she was her uncle’s only living relative.
When Jeannie had arrived at the farm, she had been overwhelmed. It was a medium-sized spread; actually, it was a combination farm and ranch, and Jeannie had thought: No way; no way am I going to be able to manage this. But she had found that it was manageable–thanks to Stumpy. He was a little old wizened bantam rooster of a man, and he had been her uncle’s manager and overseer for decades. And he more than knew his stuff. The farm-ranch was a going concern; crops as well as livestock were produced for market, and a number of workers were employed. Stumpy managed and oversaw it all with efficiency, and Jeannie quickly understood that she should leave things as they were. Stumpy would be the real manager of the farm-ranch; she would only be the owner. That didn’t mean that she could sit on her tush though; far from it. Jeannie had quickly found that, day in and day out, there was a lot of work for her to do.
And she had done it. She had become a real working owner of a farm-ranch. And as the months went by, she found herself growing more and more attached and connected to the farm; so much so in fact that she wondered how she had ever been happy and fulfilled working in the city.
Now, after six months, she could sit on the porch and feel real pride and accomplishment and, more importantly, contentment. She knew where she belonged: right there, on the farm-ranch….
A dark movement near the barn caught her attention. She looked and saw Stumpy’s dog Buck coming around from the rear of the barn. She watched as he sauntered along. Buck was a big black dog, of uncertain breed, short-haired and stump-tailed. He was husky, bigger than a Doberman; and as Jeannie watched him, a fizzy feeling rippled from the pit of her tummy to her chest and a warm knot formed in her throat. She recalled seeing Buck the day before, or rather watching him as he topped another dog. She had watched as Buck pumped his penis, jamming it hard and fast into the bitch. She recalled that his penis was pink-red and smooth, slick and wet. She let out a heavy breath and gulped and wiped her dry lips with her tongue. A sigh escaped her as she stood and walked into the house.
She walked to the bedroom, aware for the first time of how warm she felt and how a fizzy tingling was rippling up and down her tummy.
Without thinking of why she did it, she undressed and got on the bed.
Jeannie was a young woman, not yet twenty-five. She was one of those women who are attractive but who give the impression that they are unconcerned with their looks. She usually wore jeans and an untucked shirt. Her honey-colored hair was tousled; her blue-green eyes matched her peachy tanned skin–devoid of make-up.
She lay naked on the bed, absently stroking her tummy. Her body tingled. She slowly moved her hands up to her breasts and slid them over the firm, full mounds. A warm delicious feeling radiated from her breasts. She began stroking, running the palms of her hands over them. She let out a sigh of pleasure and stroked harder, rubbing and kneading her warm throbbing tits, running her thumbs over the rubbery erect nipples. She was breathing hard now, almost gasping and panting. An image suddenly flashed in her mind. The image of Buck on the back of the dog, his big black husky body on top of the bitch, pumping his penis in her, jabbing his smooth slick wet pink-red prick in her.
Jeannie slid a hand down and raised her legs and drew them back. With one hand she squeezed a breast and with the other she rubbed between her legs. She gasped and panted as hot wet shafts stabbed and shot through her body.
Again the image of Buck came to her. She slid a finger into her pussy and rubbed her clit up and down as she pictured the big dog’s dick pumping in and out of the bitch.
She lurched upward and cried out in passion as a mini-climax swirled and rippled through her cunt….
She opened her eyes and sighed and felt a letdown. The masturbation had felt good, but it was so momentary, so fleeting, and it was a substitute. It wasn’t the real thing. Jeannie sighed again as she realized how long it had been since she’d been fucked. Six months. Since she had left the city and come to the farm. In those six months, she had stayed busy, and there was also the simple fact that she was the owner of the farm-ranch; she didn’t come into contact with any males very often.
She slowly got off the bed and without dressing walked through the house. She stood naked before the screendoor, looking out onto the porch.
She saw Buck. He was now lying on the porch. She saw that the dog was licking itself, running its tongue over its penis.
He’s got a good-sized dick, she thought.
The dog suddenly looked up, rose to its feet and walked to the screendoor. It stood, looking at Jeannie, then it raised its front legs and landed them on the screen. She looked down and saw the dog’s pink-red prick, sticking up, firm and slick and smooth.
She slowly opened the screendoor, and the dog entered.
It pranced around her, sniffing at her legs and rump, then it halted in front of her and sniffed between her thighs. It nuzzled her pubic hair and then moved its muzzle down.
Jeannie breathed out huskily with the sensation of the dog’s nose and muzzle on her pussy. She opened her legs and the dog dove in. It began licking her cunt, lapping it with its big thick wet tongue.
“Umm, ah,” she breathed out heavily. The dog’s tongue was so thick and wet and its breath so hot on her pussy.
She suddenly realized that it could be even better if she didn’t stand up. She broke away and walked to the couch and sat. She raised her legs and drew them back and scooted down on the couch. Her cunt was fully exposed and opened.
“Come and get it, boy,” she said.
The dog lowered its head between her legs and proceeded to lap her yoni, swiping its tongue all over her vagina.
“Unh, ah, oh, ah!” Jeannie gasped and raised her quim up and swirled it around as the dog ceaselessly licked and lapped it.
She grasped the dog’s head and shoulders, clutched at its legs, pulling it up on her.
“Can you do it to me, boy?” she breathed out raggedly. “Can you fuck me?” The dog suddenly moved up and mounted her, and with no preliminaries slid its penis in her pussy. It gave out a yelp as it hunched forward.
“Oh god, unh, oh!” she cried as she felt its prick slide up her cunt. Its cock was rubbery and wet and hot, and the dog stuffed it in her yoni without halting.
It humped her with rapid jabs, growling as it pumped its meat up her quiff.
Jeannie gasped and panted and hunched as the big dog fucked her.
She felt its penis swell suddenly, and it yipped and jerked forward. “Oh, ah, god–yes!” she gasped in lust as she felt the dog’s hot juice spurting from its dick and gushing up her quim. “Fuck!” she cried out. “Fuck hot cum in me!”
The next morning, Jeannie arose, slipped on a robe and went to the kitchen, prepared coffee, and opened the kitchen door and looked through the screen to check the weather outside. It was bright and clear.
She was getting ready to prepare breakfast when she heard a scratching and thumping on the screendoor. She looked and saw Buck, standing on the porch, looking through the screen at her.
She opened the screendoor and the dog came in. It circled her, sniffing and nuzzling.
“Umm, you want some pussy, don’t you, boy,” she said.
She slipped off her robe and the dog began sniffing her rear end, running its muzzle over her behind.
Jeannie breathed out deeply at the sensation. She bent her knees and arched her butt. Then she felt the dog’s tongue as it began lapping her rump.
“Umm, ah, oh Buck, that feels good,” she breathed out huskily as she moved her rear end around in little circles.
The dog began licking between her cheeks, lapping her butthole.
“Ah!” she gasped with pleasure. She lowered herself down as the dog licked her ass, going down on her knees. She thrust her behind up and began grinding it.
The dog suddenly ceased its lapping and moved up, climbing on her back. It growled as it mounted her.
Jeannie cried out as the dog dug its dick in her rumphole. It humped her fast and hard, jabbing its prick back and forth in her ass.
“Oh, ah, unh, ah,” Jeannie panted in passion and hunched her butt back to meet the dog’s thrusts.
With one hand she pulled and squeezed a breast and with the other she rubbed her quiff.
“Unh, ooh, ah, fuck me!” she gasped with lust at the feeling of the dog’s hot wet rubbery cock jamming her ass. “Buggerfuck me, frig me, dogfuck me! Ah, I’m your bitch, and I’m in heat. Fuck your bitch, Buck, fuck your bitch!”
She hunched and cried out as the dog spurted its hot semen up her ass. “Jesus Christ, hot fucking cum! Now! Oh god, yes, I’m cuming now!”
She humped her body back and forth and panted and gasped, caught up completely in the throes of orgasm.
That evening, Jeannie sat on the porch swing with the dog sprawled at her feet. She heard a whistle and then a “Yo, Buck!”