Horse Cock Chronicles, Vol. 7

Just recently, I had the opportunity to chop it up, as the youngins would say, with a well-known content creator on her podcast. Being that she is a fellow writer herself, she makes it her mission to give back to up and coming content creators such as myself.

We must’ve talked for hours upon hours it seems. She gave me a lot of great advice that I plan on using. She wasn’t combative in the least bit. For someone who has had as much as she’s had, she wasn’t snobbish either. She was just pure and genuine. She was so kind and sweet to me.

As we got deep into our conversation, we begin flirting with one another. I told her that I like the top that she was wearing. She had on this nice, flowery dress with some white stockings. She was wearing these little bicycle earrings which I thought were real cute.

She pretty much had the perfect blend of hotness mixed with humbleness. She kinda looked like one of those throwback honies from “the Little House on a Prairie” days and I even told her so. I said to her that I would watch her churn some butter anytime.

She got kind of embarrassed but I told her to don’t be. I told her that women like that were definitely getting wifed up and dicked down on a regular basis back then. I said to her:

“Why do you think they had so many kids back in the day. It’s because those little house on the prairie babes was getting bent over on the dinette table right next to the buttered rolls.”

And those rolls weren’t the only thing that was piping hot either. There’s nothing like some hot twat to go along with a hot meal.

I said to her that a woman in the kitchen wearing what she was wearing, resting in her femininity just brings out raw masculinity. It’s unfiltered and that’s when the best fucking ensues. She asked me to elaborate on that a little bit more and I laid down a few scenarios for her as well.

I told her that nothing would give me greater satisfaction then coming home from a hard day working out in the field and just having my way with her as soon as I came through the door. I would bend her fine ass over and go deep inside that pussy raw without any protection.

I told her that if she got pregnant then she got pregnant but I would just have to have her. That’s the kind of hardcore fucking they used to do back in the 1940’s which is were the real freaks resided.

She started squirming around a little bit and biting her lip. I asked her did I make her feel uncomfortable which I knew she wasn’t because on how she sensuously bit her lip.

She remarked, no and that she was in fact extremely horny. She hiked up her skirt, pulled her panties off and placed them in my hand as she started rubbing on her pussy. I crumbled up her soaking wet panties in the palm of my hand as I watched her spread open her pussy lips.

She said to me, “fuck me daddy.” I hiked that bitch’s skirt up and went deep sea diving in her river of sweet pussy juices. I had her riding me like a jockey rides a stallion trying to win the Triple Crown.

She came in first by the way as I followed up a close second right behind her. This was one swell gal. She made us both dinner and dessert. She made the best cherry pie I ever tasted.

I ate it all up and then I ate her all out right afterwards. Til’ this day, I’m not sure which was sweeter that cherry pie or her sweet nectar of punani juices from when she squirted all over face and beard.

I can still taste the remnants of her sweet juices til’ this very day. I might need to give her another call and set up another….. (cough, cough) interview.