Thursday Spotlight: Sable Hunter

 Sable Does Cows
I am my Daddy’s only child.  He is a Texas rancher and I am his heir.  I won’t say that he ever wished that I was a boy, but I’m sure it had to cross his mind more than once.  He has taught me the ropes of ranching and farming – and I’m pretty good if I have to say so myself. We have cowboys to help us, so I don’t have to do anything terribly physical, but I can ride among the cows and I can drive the tractor and hook up a trailer if I have to.  I’ve given him the son he never had when I married Jason (a Yankee from Massachusetts) and he has fulfilled all of my dad’s expectations – it took a while – but he is hard to tell from the homegrown boys now.
The one thing that my dad and I had a problem about was the fact that we raised cattle for the slaughter pen.  From the time I was small I had a terrible problem with that.  That was probably due to the fact that every calf that was born – or as many as I could keep up with – I named, tamed and petted until they were shipped off to the sale barn.  Me and my dad have had dozens of arguments bout that through the years – and I finally won.  He knew that I was going to inherit everything someday, so he might as well make the changes now.  So, he changed our ways of doing things -just for me. 
 
We sold all of our regular cattle to another rancher and bought registered beefmasters.  Now, these cattle are sold for breeding purposes only – so I can name them, love them, pet them and not have to worry about eating one in a hamburger sometimes.  We have sales where ranchers come from all over to look at our stock.  We meet them at the gate with a cocktail.  Some of them arrive in their own helicopters – this is serious business.  The cattle come out of the barn and into the ring walking on a carpet – I kid you not – of course, its astro turf so it can be hosed down after accidents – but carpet nonetheless.  So, these cattle are a whole different story.  Their genealogical records are kept meticulously and the bull’s sperms are sold by the straw.  I kid my husband that his swimmers wouldn’t draw near the price that one of our special bulls would. 
 
But my dad and I have always had a special relationship and he has always let me get involved with the cattle.  When I was small, sometimes he would go out at night to help a calf be born.  He wouldn’t tell me the nitty-gritty, because I would have wanted to go watch.  Instead he would tell me that he was going to go ‘dig up a calf’.  I would think about that long and hard.  One day I wanted to pet a calf really bad – so I got my shovel and went out to the pasture.  HE came along and found me and fussed because the holes that I was digging was dangerous to the horses.  He covered them up then asked what in the tarnation that I was doing.  I told him that I was trying to ‘dig up a calf’.  Not to long after that I learned about the birds and the bees – at his insistence.  Now, look what happened – I write erotic romance.
Here’s a racy excerpt from Cowboy Heat when Libby tries to milk a cow – and Aron decides to help. 
     “Where are you going?”  Aron watched Libby head toward the back door.  He was about ready to go to bed.  First, he wanted to warn her about Nathan, then he wanted to drill, baby drill.
     “I’m going to go milk the cow.”  Hell, she was serious.
     “At ten o’clock?  She’ll be asleep.”  Aron almost whined.  He was horny.
     “I promised Jacob that I would do it at three, but I took everybody a bowl of gumbo, instead.”  Aron walked behind her as she purposefully strode to the barn.  Libby acted like she lived here.  Funny, Aron didn’t mind at all.
     Harumph!  He thought he had been the only recipient of the afternoon gumbo treat.  He wanted to be special in Libby’s eyes. 
     “Jacob said that the cow’s tits hurt if she isn’t milked regularly.”  Libby’s words hit him right between the legs.  Aron knew he was probably crazy, but Libby was turning him on with her udder talk.
     “It’s teats on a cow, baby – not tits.” 
     “Same thing,” 
     Aron groaned.
     “Why are you making funny rackets?”
     “Because all this talk about teats and tits has got my dick all awake and excited, that’s why.” 
     “Oh,” Libby’s voice went soft with excitement.  “I’ll milk fast, okay?”  She got her stool and her bucket and she settled down to do as Jacob had instructed.  Grasping the teats, she began to pull, rhythmically.  Bossy swished her tail and Libby ducked.  But, she kept pulling on those cow teats and the milk was filling the bottom of the bucket.  The more she pulled, the more Aron remembered the night that he watched her milk and knead her own puffy little nipples.  He watched for a few seconds more, then he growled.  “Get up, Libby.  My hands are stronger, I can do it faster.”
      She complied, but she fussed.  “It was a learning experience, Aron.  I wanted to do it.”
     “You’re killing me baby.  I’ll teach you everything you need to know – upstairs, in my bed.  All I can think about is you pulling on your own nipples in that stock tank, and how I’m going to do the same thing to you in just a minute.”  His words effectively cooled her anger and heated her everything else.  Soon, she found that her hips were moving in tandem with the sound of the streams of milk hitting the side of the bucket.  As Aron finished up, Libby walked over and locked every barn door.  She pulled every shutter tight and secured every entrance.  Then, she walked back to where Aron was rising and behind his back; she stripped down to her altogether. 
     Little hands crept around his waist and began to unfasten his buckle. “What are you doing?” Aron asked hoarsely.
     “Giving us both what we want.”  She whispered in his ear and she nipped his lobe.  Soon, he was as naked as she was, and God Almighty, he was fine.  Perspiration glittered on every surface, delineating every bulge and ripple.  Stepping up to him, she ran her fingers up his chest, through the crisp hair and around his nipples.  Then, boldly, she bent down and cupped his sack.  “Is tonight cucumber night?” she asked hopefully.

     “No, too excited.” Aron was honest.  “I have something else in mind.”  Showing her what he meant, he put both hands at her waist and lifted.  “Wrap your legs around me, Lilibet.”  The endearment warmed her heart.

     All thoughts of Nathan and his request slipped Aron’s mind for the moment.  Cupping her hips in his hand, he lifted her until her breasts were mouth level.  “I wish you had milk, I would suck you dry.”
His words rushed right to her womb.  To have milk, she would have to be pregnant.  With his child.  Glory be!  What she wouldn’t give for that to be true!  He swirled his tongue around each nipple.  Next, he scraped his teeth over them, nipping ever so slightly.  It might be wrong, but Libby liked a bit of pain with her pleasure.  It made her feel so alive.  Traveling outward he gave her little love bites all around each breast, stopping to mark her in a place that no eye but his would ever see.  The deep suction made her hips move against him.  “Suck my nipples.  Please Aron, suck them hard.’  She almost smiled when she said that.  How many times had she read that phrase in one of her erotic novels?  And to think – now it was her turn to say it.  Glory be!  And when he did as she asked . . . the earth moved; she could swear it did.  Nothing could beat the incredible sensation of a man’s mouth at your breast.  Womb-clenchers.  That’s what Aron’s breast kisses were – womb-clenchers.  She could feel every sharp pull all the way to her always-meant-to-be-empty womb.  Despite the bite of sadness, she fell apart in his arms, quaking from one of the hardest orgasms she had ever experienced.
Thanks for reading.
Sable Hunter

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