The Bullman - Part 4 posted in Loving Wives

Let Sensual Sharon cast her spell on you once again
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The bullman drove me to a deserted spot a few miles out of town, down a dirt road near a quarry. He stopped in a secluded spot by some large trees and killed the engine. We sat in brief silence before he turned to me.

"OK Mary, talk..." He was curt, emotionless, a bastard.

"I, um. I wanted to see you Mike."

"I got that much," he answered, his tone flat, inscrutable.

"Mike, I'm pregnant. It's yours."

"And?" The same flat, emotionless tone.

"Why are you being like this Mike?" I couldn't disguise my agitation.

"Oh come on Mary, we're both grown-ups. We had some no strings sex, it was great. You're a married woman, this can't go anywhere, and I can't be a father to your baby."

"I..." stuttering "I don't want you to be. But I can't forget. That night, it was special. I don't want any...strings. I just want..."

"What?" he interrupted.

I turned slowly, catching his gaze. Then I looked down at my hands, fidgeting in my lap.

"Why did you bring me all the way out here Michael?" I felt him looking back at me, but he said nothing. The atmosphere shifted uncomfortably.

"Huh? C'mon Michael, we're both..." I said in mock imitation, pausing for effect, then finishing with a softly suggestive "...grown ups." I shifted in my seat, my heart was beating hard.

He leaned across me, I thought he was going to grab my breast, but he reached over me and pulled the door handle.

"Get out Mary" he said coldly.

I opened the door and stepped down, sure for a moment he was going to drive off and leave me here. His door creaked open. He jumped down, his boots making a skidding noise as they hit the dirt. He walked around the front of the truck, over to where I stood. I can't tell you what I felt. I don't know if it was hormones but I've never wanted anything so badly.

He didn't make we wait, he unbuckled his belt with one hand, he pushed the other between my legs, pressing the fabric of my dress into my crotch with his fingers.

"Maybe you just need a good nailing," he sneered at me.

My eyes were glued to him as he drew out his semi-hard cock. It looked so big and thick hanging slightly downwards. I felt sick with lust, it wasn't food my pregnancy made me crave. The sight of it, purple, twitching, swelling, rising slowly upwards, made my pussy ooze with anticipation.

He pushed me back against the door of his truck, his hands went up under my dress gliding along the outside of my thighs to my hips, where they found the waistband of my panties. He yanked them down to my ankles and I lifted out one foot, leaving my wet mucous stained panties dangling from the other.

In one fluid motion, he moved in between my legs and guided his cock to my slit. It was dizzying, my head fell back against the truck door.

"Do you like nailing pregnant married woman against the door of your truck?" I asked, my voice laced with husky emotion.

He responded by smoothly injecting his cock up inside me with a heavenly thrust. I felt the bullman's length twitch inside my pussy as I wrapped a leg around behind him.

Here I was, out in the middle of nowhere, my pregnant belly bumped by his as he fucked me against the door of his pick-up truck. Anyone might happen by at any moment. His cock filled me with the most intoxicating sensations as thoughts of being spotted by someone raced through my panicked mind. I didn't care. I was in heaven.

My supporting knee moved in and out as I moved myself up and down on his rod, wanting him deeper. He wasn't gentle, he fucked me hard, urgently. His deep crushing thrusts forced breathy whimpers from my lungs, as he nailed my squelching snatch. My head was spinning as a dizzying orgasms flooded my senses. My whole body convulsed as he continued nailing me hard, like some cheap slut, against the cold metal door.

He grabbed the lapels of my dress and tugged sharply, exposing my heaving breasts, squeezing, biting in tandem with his penetrating thrusts. He ravished my semi-naked body so forcibly, beyond my wildest fantasies, living up to his moniker.

"Fuck me Bullman" I urged him, as he somehow found a way to work his cock even deeper. My shortness of breath prevented me from repeating the words, but I kept repeating it in my head. As I watched his face, I began having a hallucinatory experience, his features momentarily taking on a bovine bullish quality, before slowly dissolving back to their original state.

The bullman finished each thrust with a more powerful follow through than the last, he'd wrench his hips almost bucking me into the air, arching his back and neck. At the pinnacle of deepest penetration, his head was thrown back, the cords in his neck strained against his skin, his features turned strongly bullish.

Then as he slid his length out so deliberately slowly, the hallucinatory effect diminished, like a cloud of dissipating ether.

This went on in a cyclic fashion, making me orgasm harder and harder. It was like a dream. My legs eventually gave out but he continued using me, the beast taking his pregnant slut, laying on the grass. Once more he took me to a place I'd only ever been with him. He took me there, to a state of utter perfection, then he kept me there, enraptured for so long.

The bullman finally finished me off against the slanted trunk of a tree, squeezing me against the rough bark, his spuming cock ejaculating heavily inside my already pregnant pussy. As his spunk sprayed into me I collapsed in ecstasy, overwhelmed by surging shock-waves of pure bliss. It was as if his semen was a drug, which instantaneously flooded the synapses in my brain with opiate rushes. It felt like I was no longer made of organic matter, the sun was at my core, radiating outwards, and I was a being made of glorious golden light. Maybe I fainted, I'm not sure.

It took some time for the illusion to fade, before reality slowly returned. I was outside of myself, I think they call it an "out of body" experience. I watched from above, the bullman impaled his adulterous mistress, his ass was jerking in time with his explosive spurts. It took me a moment to realise I was seeing myself. I had both legs wrapped around him, hanging on for dear life, sprawled helplessly against the tree, my dress hanging open so indecently, panties still dangling from my ankle. My face was twisted in a tortured expression.

Despite being outside of myself, I could still feel sensations. I was aware of the panties hanging from my ankle, the coarse tree bark hard and rough against my soft skin, the air icy cold, prickly. As the sensory awareness grew, it felt like I was being sucked back into my violently orgasming body by a gravitational force. What had this beast done to me? I had no idea how he did these things.

Afterwards, I tried to make myself look decent, fixing my dress. I had to remove my torn bra, but managed to make myself almost presentable. We drove mostly in silence, back to town. As he drove he reached over and started to massage my belly. I closed my eyes, so deeply relaxed, putting my hand on top of his. His touch dripped soothing magic into my pregnant belly. Butterfly wings tickled my insides. As we got closer to town, I found myself guiding his hand downwards, under my dress, between my spread legs, against my soaking knickers, down into my insatiably craving wetness.

Hi fingers probed my pussy as he pulled in to a lay-bay. Some of his semen had oozed from my pussy and gotten onto my own hand. I felt compelled to taste it, such luscious salty sweetness. I leaned over, the gear-knob sticking uncomfortably into my breast as I unbuckled him and took him in my mouth. licking and sucking his rod, tasting that same seedy flavour, mingled with my on juice.

His fingers pumped gooey spurts of wetness from my pussy, like a soap dispenser. My dress was sodden, as if my waters had broken. I continued sucking him with loving tenderness, craving the taste of his seed, as my discharge gushed non-stop.

Finally, his hips jackknifed, a splash of his semen coated the back of my throat, hot and salty. The idea of such practice would normally have disgusted me, but now it was an exquisite elixir. My pussy squirted harmoniously as his hot jets of spunk slid down my throat into my belly.

Afterwards we didn't speak, he drove me back to town and stopped by my car.

"Will I see you again?" I asked, distraught, sure I would not. I don't know why, hormones maybe, but I was fighting back tears.

I fully expected him to drive off without a word me, but he surprised me by giving me his cellphone number. He smiled, turning my anguish into joy. I almost blurted "I love you" but I knew it would've been a mistake.

I stepped down from the cab of his pick-up and took four steps to the door of my car, glowing inside. I couldn't help glancing back, the glow deepening further when I saw he was watching me, the father of my unborn child. Then I got in my car, and drove back to the farm, back to my husband, glowing with the satisfaction of knowing I had a memento deep within, lashings of his fresh spunk in my pussy, in my belly, on my skin and on my dress.

I was trying to think of an excuse for the wet splodges of orgasmic discharge on my dress, a mix of his and hers, but he barely acknowledged me as I walked upstairs to change clothes.

For the next few days I was not quite present, constantly reliving my encounter with the bullman in my mind, over and over. I couldn't concentrate on anything.

When I slept I dreamed the strangest dreams of him. I was dreaming about swimming in a creamy river of his semen, the fluid itself was alive, an organism capable of forming into shapes, pliable yet with solid form. It basted me all over me, solidified into phallic forms and moved up inside me, a dildo made from partially solidified semen, spraying liquid semen that set inside me, filling my womb, filling my every hollow with living bullman spawn. When I woke from these dreams, the bedsheets needed changing, saturated by my vaginal discharges.

While awake, I masturbated to the bullman frequently, every chance I got, while my husband did his farm work. As each day blurred in to the next, the urge to call him grew more insistent, and I knew it was only a matter of time until I gave in to my cravings. I knew I had to find a way to make something happen.

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