Summary: A cow visits a stud service to get bred and finds that the experience exceeds her expectations. (M/F, furry, big boobs, big cock, impregnation, Southern accents)
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"Hello. I'm Elsie, from Andersen's Dairy. I have an appointment for eight o'clock?"
"Yes, good evening. I'm Ada," said the attractive ewe behind the counter. She wore silver-rimmed glasses, her wool was sparkling white, and she had a genuine, welcoming smile. "Please have a seat, and I'll be right with you."
Elsie sat down in one of the comfortable waiting-room chairs and looked down at herself. She was six-foot two, about average height for a cow. Her hide was milk-chocolate brown, just light enough to contrast with her long, dark, wavy hair--both of which she had shampooed thoroughly after getting off work. Her white blouse was unbuttoned far enough to show a considerable length of cleavage as it hugged her impressive udders. That and her tight suit skirt gave her a look that was simultaneously businesslike and terribly sexy, which was exactly how she wanted to look...and feel.
The ewe came over and sat in the chair next to her. "Miss Elsie, how are you this evening? Did you find your way here all right? I hope you didn't get too chilly on the way--I just moved up here to the mountains a few months ago, and I didn't realize how low the temperature can get at night, even in July."
Ada stopped herself. "Oh, listen to me rattling on. Welcome to O'Leary's Stud Service, Miss Elsie. I understand this is your first visit. Have you been bred before?"
"Oh, yes, I had a calf two years ago," said Elsie, "by Zack, our stud at the dairy. But not long after he bred me, he threw his back out one time too many and took early retirement, so Farmer Andersen has been sending us girls to your service ever since."
"Yes, he's been a very good client. And he's paid for four breeding sessions for you."
"Well, my milk production has been a little low recently, and I've been thinking about having another calf for a while now, so Farmer Andersen and I agreed that this would be a good time for me to get bred." Elsie sighed. "He's a sweet man. If he were a bull, I'd ask him to breed me himself."
Ada smiled slyly. "And have you ever...I mean, he doesn't need to be a bull to show a girl a good time, does he?"
"Why Miss Ada! A lady would never reveal such a thing!" Elsie declared, but she knew her wicked half-grin was giving her away.
"Please forgive me," Ada said with a knowing smile as she adjusted her glasses. "What with all that goes on around here, I sometimes lose my sense of propriety. Now then," she said, glancing at a clipboard, "I see you've chosen Jeffrey as your stud."
"Yes. I was very pleased with what I saw in his profile online, and several of the girls at the dairy recommended him."
"He's definitely one of our most popular. And he's waiting for you in breeding room three. Are you ready?"
"Very."
Ada led Elsie out of the waiting room and down a white corridor to a door with a number 3 stenciled on it. A green light was on above the door; the red bulb next to it was off.
"Here we are," said Ada. "I hope you have a very nice session."
"Thank you kindly," said Elsie.
Before doing anything else, Elsie willed her milk ducts to close--a trick she'd learned in her first week at the dairy. After all, she was here to make a calf, not a big mess. Besides, Farmer Andersen paid her by the fluid ounce.
Then she knocked.
"Please come in," said a bass voice.
She had thought that the breeding room might look like a doctor's office, but it bore very little resemblance to one. Instead, behind the white door was what looked like an attractively furnished master bedroom. The walls and floor were light-colored wood; by the back wall was a king-size, four-poster bed; and, just beyond the royal blue throw rug, a pair of armchairs flanked a handsome fireplace, where a fire was currently roaring. There was a small bar near the armchairs, and on the wall near them was the one unusual piece of furniture in the room: a dining-room sized table that was padded on top.
The overhead lights were dimmed, so the fire was the main source of light in the room. Combined with the faint smell of wood smoke, the firelight created an atmosphere that was comforting and homey and yet mildly erotic.
From one of the chairs by the fireplace arose the bull whose pictures Elsie had seen on line but who was far more impressive in person. He was perhaps six-foot ten, with a medium-brown hide, shiny black horns, and warm brown eyes. Like most bulls who didn't have office jobs, he wore no shirt--just khaki slacks and cordovan loafers. His chest was broad and muscular, and Elsie suddenly imagined how it would feel to run her hands over it.
"You must be Miss Elsie," the bull said as he strode toward her, holding out his hand. "I'm Jeffrey. It's a pleasure." His voice was deep and rich and, Elsie found, incredibly sexy.
She shook his huge hand; his grip was simultaneously firm and gentle. "I'm delighted to meet you. I've heard very good things about you."
"That's kind of you to say." Jeffrey gestured to the small bar near his easy chair. "May I offer you something? A whiskey, perhaps, or a bourbon and cola?"
"Oh, no, thank you, Mister Jeffrey. Alcohol goes right to my head, and I would like to be entirely possessed of my senses for this experience." She couldn't help but smile a bit.
"I see," said Jeffrey with a somewhat slyer smile. "Then I take it you would prefer...thorough service, rather than simply getting things over and done with?"
"Oh, yes indeed," Elsie said with only a hint of embarrassment. "I would like all the trimmings, if you don't mind."
Unabashedly, he looked her over, his big brown eyes travelling over her face, her neck, her heavy breasts, her wide hips, her strong legs, then back up again until he was looking her in the eye.
"I don't mind in the least," he said. "You are a very fine woman, Miss Elsie."
Elsie felt her face getting warm. "Why thank you, Mister Jeffrey," she replied. "And you are-" she looked at his broad chest again "...well, I don't believe I have the words, but I am, to say the least, very pleased with my choice thus far."
Jeffrey took a half-step closer. She could smell a bit of cologne, combined with the smallest hint of his natural musk. For a faint scent, it was surprisingly heady.
"You are very kind, Miss Elsie." She could practically feel his bass voice tickling the inside of her chest.
She couldn't help herself; she put a hand on his upper arm, feeling soft hide over hard muscle.
"Would you like to begin?" Jeffrey said warmly.
Elsie slid her hand upward, over his shoulder and behind his neck, taking her time to feel every muscle, every soft fiber of his hide, as her eyes admired him in the firelight--the way his shiny black horns reflected it, the way his big brown eyes captured specks of it, as if he were magic. Her hand entered his neatly cropped black hair, and she gently pulled his face down to hers.
