PB-296 DONKEY-RAPED DAUGHTER by David Crane
The dark-haired girl with the big tits was getting her ass fucked off by a donkey.
It was happening in a barn and there was a circle of interested men standing around, observing the spectacle. Most of the men were small, dark types with big, wide-brimmed hats. Their eyes were bulging out—and so were the fronts of their pants. They grabbed at their swollen pricks in desperation and their mouths hung wide open in awe—and in respect for a girl who could take a donkey’s prick. She even seemed to be enjoying the fucking.
Two of the watchers were tall, blond-haired men. They were enjoying the sight, too. They were Billy Watson and Hank Suchard, oil men from Texas, and when they had heard about the donkey show they’d figured it would be a sight worth seeing—and they were certainly getting their money’s worth.
The best part of it was that the girl was not some old worn-out slut, but a young nubile girl with a pretty face, dark flashing eyes, white teeth gleaming from parted, sensual lips—and those nice big tits. She wasn’t a whore—she actually liked to screw donkeys! She liked it even better when there were horny men watching her do it, too—which was why she was putting on such a fine performance, playing to the audience.
They had gathered in this barn in a dusty border town.
Billy and Hank had been doubtful and dubious about it, thinking it must be a trick. How could a woman take a prick that big? But then the girl had arrived and they had settled down to find out.
First she had taken her clothing off.
The men had appreciated this, but the donkey had seemed disinterested, standing in the corner with his head down and his ears flopping and his big prick soft and sheathed.
But then she had knelt beside the gray brute and begun to massage his cockmeat with both hands. Slowly the burro’s head had come up and his ears had pricked and, as if attached to his head by clockwork, his cock had begun to rise, as well. The girl had smiled happily as she felt and saw the results of her manipulations. The huge head of his cock had come squeezing out from the sheath and the long cockrod had stood, iron hard, under the animal’s belly.
She pulled the donkey-prick up and down with both hands.
Hank and Billy glanced at each other, wondering if this was to be the extent of the performance—if the girl was simply going to jack the donkey off by hand?
But then she leaned in and pushed her pink tongue out and began to lick the glistening head of the donkey’s cock. Her tongue laved all over the huge, meaty wedge and, from the look on her face, she was really enjoying the taste of his prick.
A thick drop of spunk oozed from his cleft prick-knob.
She watched it run sluggishly down his cockhead, smiling wantonly. Then she gathered it up with her tongue, slurping the sticky stuff from his hot cockmeat and letting the jism trickle around on her tongue for a moment before she swallowed it.
There was not a limp prick in the barn by this time.
Hank and Billy were as excited as the others.
Now they were wondering if this was to be the climax—if the sexy girl was going to tongue the brute’s cockhead while she jacked him off and let his cum shoot in her face?
But they had sold her short again.
She tongued his cock-knob for a while, purring with pleasure and running her pink tongue right up his cleft so that a little more donkey-jism spilled onto her taste buds. The animal was snorting and trembling by this time, his haunches starting to hump as if he were trying to fuck right through the girl’s willing head.
“Ummmm,” she purred, slurping.
Then she led the now-frantic burro over to the low wooden platform. She took up a rubber mold, an oval shield with a hole in the center. She worked this pliable device over the head of the donkey’s prick and tugged it down his vibrant stalk, so that his cockhead and some five inches of prickshaft stuck through the mold. No woman could take all of a burro’s cock, and the template would prevent the beast from ramming the whole thing up her pussy. But even the length of hard cock that was sticking out, throbbing, through the shield was more than most women could have managed. With his huge cock readied for her cunt, the girl slid onto the platform, under him. She looked around, smiling at her audience and licking her lips, where a trace of donkey-jism glistened.
Then she arched her back, her big tits thrusting up, and parted her sleek brown thighs. She fit the tip of the burro’s cock into her creamy fuck-slot and started to squirm against his cock.
The donkey’s haunches bunched up with taut muscles.
He began to fuck.
Slowly, inch by massive inch, his gigantic cock began to wedge its way into her steaming pussy. As the girl felt her cunt being stuffed to the brim with the great prick, she wailed and whimpered. Her thighs flashed and her heels drummed at the burro’s flanks. Each time the brute plunged he was fucking a bit more cockmeat into her cunt until, at last, she had taken every inch of the cock that was available through the template. The rubber shield clamped tightly to her crotch, preventing further penetration, and the donkey’s swollen balls were jammed between her legs.
The burro began to fuck her in earnest.
The girl met his fuck-strokes with equal gusto, thrusting her pelvis as his wide, long fuck-tool plunged in. Her cunt lips were spread so wide that they had almost turned inside out and her clit was swollen as it rubbed against his prick. Thick ribbons of cunt juice, pumped out by his pussy-filling plunger, poured down her crotch and seeped into the tight crack of her churning ass. She rolled her hips from side to side, winding her cunt around on his cock like a nut on a bolt.
Her face was a mask of pure lust.
This was no play-acting—it was obvious that the girl adored getting fucked by the burro.
Half of the keen observers had opened their flies and plucked out their pricks by this time, unable to restrain themselves. They crowded around in a tight circle, jerking off with vigor. The girl looked around, pleased to see how greatly her performance had inspired the watchers.
Neither Hank nor Billy had produced his prick in public.
Texans don’t jerk off—or at least, they don’t admit to it.
But they were both panting.
One of the watchers squirted a heavy dose of jism out. The sticky stuff splashed on the girl’s tits. Then a second one shot his hot wad into her face and they began going off in sequence, shooting one by one like a line of well-trained infantrymen. The girl was slathered with frothy jism even before the burro had come.
Then the donkey brayed and slammed the prickmeat home violently, and the girl was almost blown off the end of his prick by the gigantic torrent of cum that hosed her pussy.
The burro shot geyser after geyser of cum into her cunt and the girl melted with him, her hot pussy juice gushing out to blend with the animal’s slime, her whole crotch foaming with cream as it flooded out.
At last, the brute’s balls were emptied.
The girl continued to squirm on his cock, working off the final spasms of her own orgasm and milking out the final flow of her cunt juice. Then she gracefully pulled her pussy from his prick. The burro’s cock sagged under his belly, still semi-erect. The cock-knob was slathered with cum and cunt juice.
The girl twisted around and used her nimble tongue to lave the head of his cock until it gleamed as if polished.
The show was over.
She got up and took a bow. Cum was streaming down the insides of her thighs in a creamy river. The men who had finished jerking off, and therefore had both hands free, applauded. She acknowledged their cheers with a happy, contented smile.
Then she got dressed.
Someone led the satisfied burro away and the girl left by herself.
Every man there would have loved to fuck her.
But she was a strange girl.
She only fucked donkeys.
Billy and Hank were so impressed that they went to the nearest bar and looked around for girls to pick up and fuck. But they were in a weakened state, since a good portion of their blood was lodged firmly in their pricks, and so the alcohol went to their heads faster than normal—for Texans—and they soon became too drunk to make a conquest. They staggered back to their hotel and, in the privacy of their separate rooms… who can say if those tall Texans did, or did not, jack off?
In the morning, hungover and red-eyed, Hank Suchard wrote his weekly letter to his long, leggy, lusty wife in Dallas.
Hank had been so greatly impressed by the donkey show that he simply couldn’t resist the impulse to write about it, and he did so. It wasn’t as if he had done anything wrong, himself, he reasoned. He had just watched the bizarre performance as he would have a blue movie or a naughty nightclub act, and he didn’t expect his wife to be angry.
Nor was she.
But that letter from Hank Suchard to his lovely wife was going to have astonishing repercussions…
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