As I lowered my ass, his rock hard eight-inch love pole slid deep inside me, one last time. Eric pushed up so hard I thought he was trying to get his steamy balls to enter my ass as well. Eric grunted triumphantly, “I’m Cumming. I told you every stallion can be broken!” His hands tightened on my shoulders and his breath was almost a gasp as he whispered into my ear. I whispered back with and smile of ecstasy on my face, “Ha you think so? I’m riding you; a prize bull and you love it! I WIN!!” I felt his cock enlarge even more as I whispered into his ear and Eric’s body began to tremble. Gushing in wave after wave, his seed flooded my ass oozing out of my stretched hole. It was enough to put me over the edge and I began an orgasm greater than any I had known in the past.

I tightened my ass and flexed my hips while I pumped my semen between our stomachs and chests. I laid atop Eric with my legs straddled on each side and he tightened his grip holding our bodies together as one. My actions had an erotic effect on Eric as his still rock-hard cock began shooting another wave of thick sticky cum into my gyrating, throbbing ass. I turned my head and our lips met with open mouths and we kissed with wild unadulterated primal passion!

Slowly the riptide of pleasure dissolved into heavy breathing and exhaustion. Our bodies were now drenched in sweat and man seed. Eric released his grip and I did not move. While our cocks deflated and Eric’s prick retreated from the depths of my bowels, I couldn’t stop thinking of how we got to this almost primeval, testosterone filled desire for lust, power and need to cum long and hard.

My name is Jonathan and I stand about five foot eight and weigh in at about one hundred and thirty pounds. I have broad shoulders and a flat stomach. My right arm is well muscled, from years of working on my farm. My left arm though equally worked out remains damaged and scarred by a bull which trampled me while I was riding in the rodeo circuit and crushed my fore arm.

My cock is a little above average being seven and a half inches long and cut. But what defines me for who I am is my hair. My chest, arms, legs and crotch, are covered with thick curly blondish brown hair, The hair on my head is golden blonde and flows in soft curly waves half way down my back. It reflects the sun and almost shimmers when I am working outside in my fields. But enough about me, back to current events.

I was looking thru Craigslist for anyone who might be selling goats at a good price. I wanted it increase my herd and bring in some new blood. I came across an ad for goats for sale on a farm on the outskirts of a town about an hour’s drive away. I called and I talked to a man named Eric. We negotiated a price and set up a time for me to pick up several goats at his farm. I hitched the trailer to the back of my truck and at the time we set up I drove to Eric’s farm.

As I arrived, I first saw Eric off in the distance on the back part of the farm. He looked to be feeding hey to his animals. He must have heard my truck because he stopped what he was doing, looked up, and waved at me to pull in, and drive down the dirt road to where he was working.

Eric was a tall man about six foot two or so, He was shirtless and wearing tight low cut 501 jeans which accented a thick mat of black hair sprouting up from the waist line of the jeans, surrounding his naval, and spreading out to cover his stomach and well-defined chest. He wore a pair of over used dusty brown cowboy boots. He took off his cowboy hat to wipe the sweat from his brow, exposing the jet-black hair on his head, and deep blue eyes. His chest glistened in the sunlight through beads of sweat running down his well-defined pecs and rippling six pack, being deflected back and forth by his thick black curly chest hair.

His beard stubble was only a couple days old and I wasn’t sure if Eric just forgot to shave or if he was starting a beard. What I was sure of, was that the shadowy effect of his facial hair made Eric look even more rugged and desirable.

Eric smiled as I got out of the truck and walked over to shake my hand and introduce himself. I couldn’t help but notice an enormous bulge being corralled down the left leg of his jeans which seemed just a little too tight for farm work.

As we grasped each other’s hand, Eric began to squeeze. As he did, he looked into my eyes as if it were a challenge. I accepted the challenge by twisting my wrist slightly to get a better grip advantage and began to squeeze back.