Page 8 of Bred By the Minotaur
Since my first time at DreamTogether, I’ve learned to use the dilator for two weeks as suggested, and I made sure to be prepared for today. So when the flared edge of the minotaur’s cock works its way into me, I’m ready for its size—but not at all for how wonderful, how thick and heavy and yet giving it is inside me.
He huffs against the back of my head. “You feel incredible,” he groans, stopping himself before he goes too deep. He learned.
Then he pulls back, gripping my ass with one hand. When he shoves himself in again, it lights up every last one of my nerve endings like a Christmas tree. “I missed you.”
I wonder if he intended to say those words as he pumps again, pushing deeper, asking for even more of me to open for him. I collapse forward against the bench, gripping the padding under my hands tightly as he rocks into me, sliding in farther before pulling out.
Saying I missed you, too doesn’t quite encompass how I feel about hearing his voice again. For the nearly eleven months I carried his baby, I thought of him. Fantasized about him. Eleven months I grew it inside me, wondering where he was, what he was doing, what he would think. When I went into the delivery room with my sister holding my hand, I had wished it was him there with me, making sure the baby came out safely.
Today, he confirmed for me that I have a son out there. I was always aware of it in the back of my mind; I carried it, after all. But after the baby was taken away and returned to their father, I tried never to think about them. That wasn’t a good path to go down.
But now the minotaur is back. For me.
“I’m glad you’re here,” is finally what I say. I’m glad it’s him, that I could have him one more time.
His exploration of my body slows. Remaining sheathed in me, he leans down, trailing his hands over my bare hips, up under my shirt. A wide nose whiffs at my hair, and then those hands slide loosely back down to my ass.
“Did you know,” he says quietly, right behind my ear, “that he likes broccoli?”
He pushes his cock into me slowly, tantalizingly slow.
Does he mean... our kid?
“Our calf’s name is Milo,” he whispers, plunging into me again, pressing that blunt head deeper. I gasp and fall forward as he fills me, stopping just before he would bottom out.
We still hadn’t worked up to his full length last time. Maybe this time will be different.
“Milo,” I repeat, keeping the words tight against me so the overlords at DreamTogether can’t overhear us. “That’s—” I moan as he speeds up his thrusts, remaining at the same depth that’s sending shockwaves all across my central nervous system. “—a wonderful name.”
And it is. Adorable, perfect.
“I always hoped you’d like it,” he murmurs, settling deep inside me. There he rocks his hips, just sampling me, testing me. “I’ve thought about you a lot as he grows up. Wondering what parts of him are me, and what parts... are you.”
I cry out as he pushes into me again, and then even more of him fills me up, stretching me, demanding that I widen and lengthen. I wish I could reach out and touch him.
As if he can read my mind, a hand drifts up my back, down my shoulder, to my knuckles. There, I look down to find his massive fingers wrapped around the back of my hand as he crouches over me. They’re brown splotched with white.
“He’s so rambunctious,” he says, just for me, “getting into all sorts of trouble, like calves do.” He’s so calm, so quiet as he thrusts in and out, his hooves dragging on the tile as he pumps into me. I’m flying higher and higher, and somehow his words are twisting up my emotions into pure pleasure.
We have a child. His name is Milo. He’s rambunctious.
I wonder what he looks like. What are his other favorite foods?
As my minotaur wraps his body around mine, he slams in, burying an obscene amount of that seemingly endless length inside me so I cry out. Each thrust is stimulating everything, his furry balls brushing over my clit each time he pounds into me—I’m vibrating, tense all over with my desperate need to orgasm.
“Come for me,” he murmurs, and I do. I do, completely, utterly, my whole body clamping down tight around him and the bench and everything, and I don’t even realize I’m screaming until I hear the echo of my voice around the room. The minotaur grunts against my neck and jams himself in one more time.
Then he roars. It’s a powerful, rumbling sound, and immediately I feel his hot seed surge inside me, so much that it’s spilling in a torrent down my legs. His roar morphs into a bovine low as he pumps again, releasing even more.
“Hank,” he whispers in my ear as he remains lodged inside me, his heartbeat thrumming in time with mine. “My name is Hank Pittsfield.”
Hank
I need her to know who I am. I need her to... what? To want to find me? To seek me out, beyond this room, and meet our calf?
Yes. That’s what I want. Now I’m going to put the ball in her court.
Slowly I pull out of her, and my cock falls thick and wet between my legs. Her sweet pussy is gaping, spilling over with my seed. I wonder if I’ll have to visit a few times.
