Pom sat uncomfortably on her seat cushion. What with the four digit thread count and the feathers from a gilded goose, she found it way too warm. Hot, even. Pom's entire underside tingled with a deep desire, an alien but welcome feeling. The word to describe it was on the tip of her tongue. Her teeth clenched and eyes darted as if the eyes around noticed her discomfort. If there were a place where an ewe like her were to be lambasted for acting strange, this bed and breakfast would be it. No one seemed to notice, she sighed in relief as she went back to thinking about her current affliction. It was nothing serious, right? Right?
Suddenly, a sultan-like sultry voice echoed behind her and a shadow fell over her. It was Stronghoof, still the reigning Jarl of the Reine. It had been years since she met him for the first time, and this time it was a warm welcome. A very, very warm welcome.
“Oh, greetings Pom, I almost didn’t recognize you from all the layers you’re wearing. What I did recognize was those shakes. It's been a long time. Welcome back to Reine. Are you here for business or pleasure?” The last word rang Pom’s inner bell and the resonation coursed throughout her body.
“A- aye don’t know actually. Woogums said Aye’d be better off ‘ere for the time bein’.” Pom rubbed her shoulder out of unwarranted guilt.
“Ah. I understand completely. Would you like a drink? I’m sure your travels would warrant at least a hot chocolate.” Pom bit her lip. “It’ll warm you up. You look like you’re freezing.”
“Aye’m too hot in fact.” Her cheeks reddened with embarrassment.
Stronghoof’s winter sprite checked Pom’s temperature with a damp cloth, and then proceeded to whisper his findings back to the Jarl. Stronghoof smirked in a sudden moment of clarity. Pom was in heat. Better yet, the first heat of her life. Though he already knew this, he decided to test the severity of her symptoms with the best test he could muster: The Smoulder. He puffed his floof and leaned down ever so close. With a single smile on one side of his face and a gaze that could melt diamonds, he said something that would’ve been of inconsequence in any other situation.
“So, how are you feeling?” The question did not matter, but her bodily response did.
Pom’s padded seat moistened with sweat and something else, eyes focused on Stronghoof. Her legs felt like butter. She’d already had a crush on Stronghoof when they’d first met. Being at that age would surely have been trouble, but now that the years passed and her heart was fully realized, the option was open. Pom bit her lip once more and looked at Stronghoof with half-lidded eyes as she eked out a response.
“Aye’m okay Stronghoof sir.”
“You don’t look okay. How about you and I go to my place, and I’ll see if I can make you feel… better.”
Pom gave a slow nod, the slowest she’d ever done in her life, and they were off.
Pom felt her back against the linens, her tail poking out from the left side. The heat in her loins flared in anticipation. She bundled her forehooves around her face and hid her ever-growing blush. Strong hooves gently parted her hind legs. The stag came into view through her hooves. For him, this was casual and common practice. For her, it was the most sacred and consecrated thing in existence. Stronghoof knew this and empathized. First times were supposed to be special.
Stronghoof’s thick tongue brushed about around her nethers, tasting a fresh ewe ripe for eating. Pom squeaked, visibly wobbling from her head to her spread legs.
“Nervous? Don’t worry, my little ewe. I am a gentle giant.” He kissed her lower lips and continued eating her out. She could only stare as her nethers were marinated by the big stag. Pom was still silent and squeaking, pleasure building within her. Stronghoof lapped at her labia, spreading her lips with his meaty tongue, his nose booping her clit. As Pom got hotter, her pussy’s sweat mixed with his saliva, lubricating and expediting the process. Pretty soon, Stronghoof could lick her cunt’s dew off of her, but he needed something more. A finishing marination to put his cock into.
He roughened his approach, pushing his fat tongue against her hymen. The taste gave him some fervor. He pushed against it, stretching it but never breaking it, letting it stay for what was coming next, his dick.
Pom bit her hoof and exhaled through her nose. Haze and fog swept her vision and dulled her hearing. All she could feel was the stag’s tongue probing and prying at her insides. She was in the midst of deciding whether this was perverse or romantic. It was like they were on a tipping scale that had more in common with a metronome. With each lick, her mind was changed. Each side of the scale kept getting heavier and heavier. Pom’s body felt as if it were sinking into the bed. The linens creased under her hooves as if she was trying not to sink in completely. When Stronghoof’s tongue dove into her moist cunt, the scale inside her mind began to creak and crease with the pressure against her hymen. He licked. How lewd. He rolled his tongue around inside. How caring. Now he’swirling circles around my clit. Devious. Pulled me closer. Romantic. Sucked. Pervert…
This line of reasoning devolved into an amalgamation of abstracts as her mental scale’s chains cracked with each accelerating and nuanced thought. In the outside world, she thrashed about, her bell and her moans filling the room. The only thing keeping her in place were his strong hooves holding her lower half in place. She was close and they both knew it. Stronghoof smirked at this and came for the coup de grâce.
Stronghoof pulled his tongue out for a brief moment before pursing his lips against her budding clit, lining up his tongue one last time. He knelt into her, his horns gently pressing against her belly as he licked her taint. With one stroking, whipping motion, he snaked into her labia from one end to the other, dragged his tongue along her hood and licked against her cherry one last time.
Pom felt it all and more, his silver tongue from root to tip had The scales broke, sending the fulcrum's arms into a frenzy, and the mental image finally faded away. When her eyes opened, she realized what had happened: she'd climaxed all over Stronghoof’s floof, leaving a shining example of his expertise on his chest. His face showed no cause for remorse. He was proud, and cleaning up after his artful mess was his sprite’s job. A simple hoof towel patted down and absorbed the ewe juice in a matter of seconds.
Stronghoof looked her over and smiled reassuringly. He decided not to press further. It was her choice whether she wanted to continue. The charming stag kissed her pompadour and got ready to leave. Just as he was at the doors, his ears caught a whimper.
“W-wait. I… I want more. Please… Please fuck me.” Stronghoof rolled his eyes in amusement. He knew the only way he was leaving this room… was by fucking her silly.
“You know, no one’s ever not asked me that question.” He chuckled again. Pom blushed and buried her face inside her hooves once again.
“I-I’m… sorry. If you don’t want tae. It’s fine.” She dragged out a sigh.
“I just find it funny, my sweet ewe. Everyone I bed doesn’t let me leave the room till they are barely conscious. 86 the sheet, my boy. It’ll be a waste.” The Winter sprite saluted before disappearing through the bedroom doors.
Stronghoof dipped his head at the sprite and turned back to Pom. He stroked his beard in thought, wondering what this indecisive ewe would like. Being bent over the bed and fucked into sheets? No, too rough for her first time. Cowgirl? While I’ve admired her fervor, her body might not be able to take it if an ‘accident’ were to happen. He pondered a bit more, but he eventually went back to the tried and true method: Asking.
“How would you like your first time to be, Pom?” He stroked his beard one more time.
“Umm… Something personal… if ye don’t mind.” She clasped her legs as if she weren’t ready, even though she was more than ready.
Stronghoof's sheer weight shifted the mattress. Pom was rocked aside left and right before he settled at the headboard, her back against the gaudy cushioned embroidery. A silver shimmering aura encompassed Pom, cradling her to his lap. She wasn't restrained but uneager to move as her shyness welled up once again in his gaze. Confidence and assurance brushed up against her inexperience and timidness; she hated it. The attention she was receiving was too personal. More anxiety inducing than talking to the crowded sheep within the jury. While her eyes could deform the prying eyes of the masses, she couldn't escape the illustrious stare of Stronghoof.
With a single nose-to-nose boop, he had brought her out of her head once more. Pom giggled in embarrassment and let out a sigh of relief.
"You're quite headstrong, Pom. Maybe a bit too headstrong. Your mind wanders and cannot get out of your pretty head, but I will show you the way. Trust me." Suddenly, he pursed his lips against hers, stealing her first kiss. Pom's eyes widened and then softened as she returned the kiss. She moaned as both their lips smacked together in unison. Pom tasted a bit of herself on Stronghoof’s tongue, and when the kiss been abruptly ceased, the drool that spaghettid between them split into two.
"T-that… that was am-..." she was shushed by his tippy hooves and a slow low tone 'shh'
"Let not words muddle this. Quiet, please, little lamb." They both smiled in agreement and let their coitus speak for itself.
In subtle fashion Pom’s thighs brushed up against something bulbous and thick, spreading them slightly. As she looked down, the ‘thing’ brushed up against her taint and puckered against her tail. She found herself having a seat on his enormous tapered dick and instinctually wrapping her tail around his tip. It resembled an unopened lotus petal in all its elegance and form. Pom could not help but be enamored and lewdly stifled by the size, girth and warmth of his male endowments. The flustered ewe began to exhale stuttered drool filled moans. She began gargling some saliva as the liquid built up around her tongue.
“Dozing off again? Eyes up here. There’s a better view, my love.” Stronghoof lifted Pom’s chin with a light gesture and to her it felt like her neck creaked to see him.
Stronghoof’s gaze was like nothing else. Two morning suns peeking through a snow capped mountain range, his horns were a leafless forest brazen with gilded and tinsel decorations. He was close, closer than Pom would ever imagined. He cared, not for his own pleasure but the pleasure of her. He smirked then finally broke her final barrier. Pom felt the cracks of lightning in her loins as he thrusted into her. The synapses in her brain forced her out of her sex fueled haze and into the real world, just like he wanted of her. Words rolled out of her tongue like spilt marbles on a glass table. A gaggle of ‘Fuck me.’, ‘Yes’, ‘Deeper’ encouraged Stronghoof to pull her further and deeper. Pom’s Sheep pussy had been resilient and surprisingly adaptable, her lamb hole stretched around his member wonderfully tight. Even with the countless cherries popped under his belt, Stronghoof needed great effort not to cum immediately. He gyrated her hips around his dick, churning her insides and coating himself in lamb sauce. Pom had achieved hyper awareness as she focused on his eyes, his dick in her snatch and the heat generated between them. The stag raked her insides, pinching every nerve along her soaked and stuffed canal. The length slowly reaches more and more influence. This elation was the constant climax and layering of said climax with each thrust and each retreat. There was no reprieve, the force of his dick pulling at her pussy resided till the next inward thrust and vice versa.
Lewd squelching and sweat heavy panting echoed through the self-portraits and infinitely tasseled tapestry. Pom’s stomach bulge with Stronghoof’s obese cock. The lamb’s battered hole had fully accepted and reveled in being rammed into over and over again. There wasn’t anything left to give as his balls slapped against her ass and tip, rimming and booping her cervix each time he hilted her. Stronghoof had lost himself in the pleasure as this was the best pussy he had in months. Even for a freshly popped cherry, Pom’s eagerness combined with her severely tight cunt gave him trouble. Though his usual sexual bouts last for hours with no thought of climax whatsoever, This time he could swear it has been only fifteen minutes before he reaching his limit. It was obscure how confident, straight faced this sheep was while being pumped full of Stag meat. Pom had given little thought on how close Stronghoof was. She kept pushing him deeper and deeper, faster and faster, raking her insides as much as the shed leaves in autumn. Her abdomen was sore, sides were sore, backside sore but it was worth it to keep milking him and making her his. The stag had relinquished all of himself to the pleasure, laying back as Pom took the cowgirl position, appropriate for the job title, the shepherd. Stronghoof couldn’t hold back much longer. His dick pulsated with an aching need and what soon followed afterward was the best orgasm he had in ages.
Pom felt the sudden testosterone rush flooding her womb; deer cream splattered her walls and completely engulfed it in Thick cream. More and more spurts of had no other place to go but out, as this had happened, an ooze of both her cum and his preforated the lips of her right fucked cunt and his recently milked pole. They were both left panting, sweaty and smelt of sex. The stag and the ewe had no words for each other. Silence and afterglow were the only things speaking to them. They had both experienced something new and the feeling of it was just settling in. After a while, staying in this elated high, Pom had broken silence.
“I’m ready for round two.”