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His musky scent increased, and I twirled faster, sensing his growing need before he thrust into the air.Cream flying about, he rolled to sitting, grabbing my stalk and bringing it in front of his firing cock and covering me in it.The sticky cream ran down my fuzzies and I leaked custard.That’s it, my ballsy-bull, cover me in your cream.Dirty me up so you can lick me clean.
Panting and groaning, he sucked me into the warm, wet cavern of his mouth.His tongue snaked around my stalk, lapping up my juices.
So tasty.
Only for you.
Breathless and sticky, he flopped back on the bed and I shifted, pinning him to the mattress as I lay on top of him.I cupped his cheeks, staring deep into his beautiful eyes.“Feeling better, Daddy?”
His lips widened into a big grin.“We’re gonna be Daddies.”
I kissed him just because.“We are.”I kissed him again, thinking I needed him to clean his teeth properly, but that could wait.My Burke was feeling all kinds of happy at thoughts of babies now the shock had worn off.
“But will it be baby rhu’s or calves?”I murmured, intrigued and impatient to find out.
Chapter Eighteen
Burke
“This is not my fault,” Ricky protested.
I grinned.He sounded as if he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
“I’m gonna stage an intervention if he keeps doing that,” Maximus declared.
“How exactly, oh custard of my loins, are you going to intervene?”Tim asked, rubbing his belly.He was such a slim stalk, it made the pronounced baby bump really obvious.
“I’ll cut it down.It’s more rust than metal, anyway.He’s not safe up there.”
‘Up there’ was ten feet off the ground.I clung on and rested my forehead against the pole as I listened to them talk.Maximus was right about one thing.This pole was a rust factory.
I looked down at my mate and pride leader.“It’s not my fault either.You know I have no control over this.”
Ricky looked up and grinned at me.“Want me to come up and rescue you, heart of mine?”
“Yes please,” I confessed sheepishly, doing my best to hide my embarrassment.
He climbed the pole as if he were born to do it, reaching me in seconds.
“You’re going to have to teach them how to get down,” I pointed out.Or was that me who needed teaching?Who knew, but right then I wasn’t thinking about anything other than falling flat on my face.
Ricky groaned aloud.“I’ve tried.They’re not listening to reason.”
I sighed heavily because he was right.The babies never listened.
We had…an issue.
My babies liked to climb.Problem with that… they weren’t even born yet.They loved climbing just like their Papa.How that was possible when I was as agile as a bull, Great Rhu would need to explain to me.So far, I’d found myself up trees, poles and ladders, with no clue how I got there.The first several times, it freaked me out.At least now I can say I’m damn good at climbing.
The problem was none of my little stalks knew how to get me down.I had an alarm and a tracker now, so Ricky could find me and come rescue me.Hefound it funny.The pride and the town, not so much.It could be the fact I was nearly always stark ballsy naked, and my balls were the first thing they saw when they looked up.It wasn’t a show anyone needed to see, except my stalk, if only I could get my babies to agree.
Ricky guided me down, and I reached the ground, sighing in relief.I shifted, needing the comfort of four hooves in the soil.My mate scratched behind my fluffy ears, and I mooed low in pleasure.He could do that all day.
Maximus gave me a stern look, but I could see the worry behind his eyes.“This has got to stop, Ricky.What happens if your mate faints again and falls to the ground?It could hurt your babies.”
“I’ve had that conversation with them,” Ricky muttered, his hand stroking my belly.“I don’t know who they take after, I was never like this.”
I mooed to make a point that until I’d gotten pregnant, I’d never been adventurous.My baby rhubarb sure had changed that, and we both had tried over and over to talk sense into them.But they were babies, and they didn’t understand danger.When you were giving birth to a calf and a crown of rhubarb, it seemed the rules were thrown out the window, or off the top of the pole.They loved climbing, and I was the only way they could get there.The town had locked away its ladders, but unless they wanted to cut all the trees down, there was no shortage of places for me to climb—them.
