Her Breeding Bull Billionaire

By: Francis Ashe


The next day was absolutely frantic. Cleaning and fretting took up most of my time. Jeff just sort of wandered around in a haze, still a little dumbfounded at everything. Usually before these encounters, he gets chipper but this time he seemed a little over-mellowed.

“You doing okay?” I asked, rubbing the back of Jeff’s leg as he rooted around for something in the attic.

He poked his head out of the hatch. “Hey honey, what’s up?”

“Seem kinda out of it. You doing okay? We can call this guy and tell him not to show if you’re nervous about it. Big step and all.”

“Oh, no, no – not at all. I’m really excited. Just have a lot to do. Mr. Richards, you know, he asked for rope, so I’ve been looking. I think I have one up here somewhere.” He stuck his head back up in the attic. A moment later, a strange thwip sound came from somewhere above my head. “Grab my leg!” Jeff called, muffled by insulation. “I gotta really pull this thing!”

Jeff braced himself against me and tugged.

“Got it! Whew!”

Very carefully, he descended the ladder and proudly showed me his dust-covered trophy: about a six-foot length of nylon rope with a dummy tied to the end. “Halloween, what, three years ago? Remember, we tied this little guy to the chimney.” Jeff wobbled the zombie’s head at me, making its googly-eyes go stupidly from side to side.

“Huh-hey, Athlee!” He jibbered.

In spite of myself, I snorted, sucked in a honking laugh and slapped Jeff on the back. After all the tension, stress and cleaning, it was good to know we could still laugh. We sat there and played with the zombie, who we named “Jed” for a few minutes until I happened to look outside to see the sun setting behind the tree-line.

“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.

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