Her Breeding Bull Billionaire

By: Francis Ashe

“Oh, shit,” I said, “he’s going to be here soon. Maybe. Gotta finish getting the place ready. Does he seem like a ‘candles’ kind of guy to you?”

Jeff shook his head.

“Yeah, I didn’t think so. Ah, man. I don’t know what to do. I guess we should just have a glass of wine and relax a little. Calm my own nerves, if nothing else.” I had become acutely aware in the few minutes between our discovering Jed and seeing the sun set that I was the nervous one. Feels like a whole lot of dreams coming true at once – Clark Richards, hopefully a baby. Ash, Ash, Ash. You gotta calm down, girl. Thinking it and doing it though were very different, though. Jeff plodded ahead of me to the kitchen, poured a couple of very stout glasses of red.

“Here’s to... whatever happens,” he said, and clinked my glass.

“Whatever happens,” I took a swallow. The liquid tasted good and as it slid down my throat, the tension I carried at the top of my shoulders relaxed slightly.

“Everything’s going to be fine. Don’t worry, baby,” Jeff said after a few moments of silence. “Or is it just excited nerves?”

I nodded, eyebrows arched and eyes closed.

“Me too. I’m not going to pretend I’m not a little scared, but holy Hell I am looking forward to this.”

For some reason, that’s just what I wanted to hear. I also had the feeling that part of what Jeff was so riled up about was one of the last things Clark said before we left: “he’s going to get me ready.” Jeff had never done prep work with any of our bulls, and I think it was something he always wanted to try. He knew this one was going to be special. Leaning over, I gave him a kiss on the top of the head.

As much as my husband was excited about watching me be bred by this incredible man, I was looking forward to being fucked and filled. My thoughts turned dirty. They turned to the rope that Mr. Richards had requested. I hope he’s going to do something... rough. Something just a little dangerous, I thought, finishing my wine.

Darkness set in, and we waited.

But, not for long.


Seven o’clock rolled around and one glass of wine turned to two. Halfway through, I realized that a car had been sitting out front of our house for who-knows-how-long. We both peered through the blinds in a kind of hushed wonderment at the long, black, chrome-lined limousine. It seemed like something out of time – tall tail fins, side rails like on an old Studebaker, and white-walled tires.

This guy is the real deal. Even though that was apparent from his private elevator only office, the car drove it home. So to speak.

Clark Richards’ back was turned to the house, illuminated by the overhead light, and it was obvious from his movements that he had a phone to one ear. The driver sat perfectly still, his white gloves on the wheel the only part of him visible through the dark glass.

“Well,” Jeff kissed me on the back of the head, “this is it. I guess. He doesn’t seem to be making any moves. How long has he been there, d’ya think?”

I just shook my head, still in shock at the thing parked in front of my house.

Finally, the driver emerged and opened the door for the man who was about to father my – our – child.

When he finally stepped out into the night, he was gorgeous. Perfectly combed hair, just the right amount of stubble across his jaw, those big shoulders and arms covered in a perfectly tailored charcoal grey suit. His trousers were obviously well-tailored, but the muscles in his thighs made them fit tightly around him nonetheless. Oh this is going to be good, oh this is going to be good.

I watched him walk up our little stone path and straighten his lapels in the reflection of the door glass. That gesture made him seem a bit more human than he had in the office when he was just perfection.

As soon as I opened the door, the spicy, delicious cologne that I smelled between his legs the day before struck me. For the first time in my life, the whiff of a scent made me a little wet. Mr. Richards’ immediacy finished the job.

“Not much time,” he said, “I have an engagement soon. Well, now, actually, but I put them off for an hour. Do you have the rope?”

Jeff nodded.


I started to reach for his hand and take him around the house, like I would any guest, but he shrugged me off.

“No, apologies and all that, but I’m not interested. I came here for one thing. You. I’ve seen houses before. I hope that wasn’t too forward?”

Oh my God, I’ve never met anyone so abrupt and straight forward. A little rude, sure, but... It’s just so...

My thoughts were interrupted by our guest speaking again.

“Alright,” he cast his gaze at Jeff, “I told you that you would be getting me ready to fuck your wife. That you were going to get my dick hard so that I could do what you can’t, or even worse, that she doesn’t want you to. How does that feel, exactly? I’m going to fuck your wife, cum inside her, and you’re going to raise my child.”

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