William leaned in and kissed Paul once again as he gently began to rub the Vingle nerve. Paul began to react to the stimulation, his body started to shake and quake as William more intently rubbed the nerve ending, sending Paul into orbit. He was gasping for breath.
"What are you doing? What’s going on? You can’t do this. Oh, don’t stop, please don’t stop, William. I’ve never felt this before. More, please. Gosh, more, please. Don’t stop." William stopped rubbing Paul’s secret spot and kissed him as he slowly came down from his first orgasm.
William slid down the bed and placed his head between Paul’s legs. What he did next made Paul howl—he started licking Paul’s vent that was partially open. William did not let up. He had his head buried in between Paul’s legs and Paul was all over that bed squealing, screeching, howling, and begging him not to stop doing whatever he was doing. It felt too fucking good.
"Keep it up, oh my gosh, don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop."
William hooked Paul’s legs over his shoulders and slowly crawled up between his legs. He kissed Paul passionately on the lips as he began to settle in.
"William, when you get ready to enter me, please let me know so I can be ready in case it hurts."
"Paul, can’t you feel me there? I’m already deep inside of you. And we’re almost ready to make this baby."
Paul suddenly realized that his vent was stretched wide. He felt William deep inside of his body, but it didn’t hurt. Virgins are supposed to hurt the first time. Why didn’t it hurt?
"William, why didn’t I feel you go inside?"
"Because Paul, I’m good. You were relaxed, and you were in the middle of an orgasm when I entered you. Making love doesn’t hurt, especially when you know what you’re doing, and I’m not bragging, but damn, I’m good. I’m ready to make this baby."
Paul slowly began to come back down and he could feel William starting to move in and out of his body. Paul wrapped his legs around William as William began to pick up speed, slowly increasing the thrust depth and intensity.
It wasn’t quite a fuck, that’s for damn sure. Paul was screaming, howling, crying, begging—all the above—and there was a crack as the bed came apart. This didn’t stop William at all. He was getting ready to put that baby inside Paul. No sooner than he loaded up and blew his load, the pain hit Paul like a freight train. It was burning his insides and he was in agony. But William took care of him, gently massaging his belly, and the burning soon went away. But William wasn’t through yet. He went for another round. In fact, he went for six more rounds. Paul didn’t know what to do—he was having orgasms one after the other. Paul ended up with a few scratches on his back, but hey, what are battle scars when you’re making kids.
William finally rolled off of Paul and gently caressed his glands. They were already bloated back again, almost full of nectar. He leaned over again and drained both of them. An exhausted Paul rolled on his side and William slid up behind him and entered his vent once again.
"Please, not again. I’m very sore and I don’t think I can do it again."
"Just stay the way you are. Let me hold you and I want to feel our baby developing inside of you." William whispered. William wrapped his arm around Paul and laid his hand on his lower stomach. "This boy here, right here that you have inside of you, is going to be the luckiest young man there is. I’m never going to abandon him. I’m his father, you’re his dad, and nothing will change that. Plus, Jonathan will spoil him rotten."
Zach’s office had been inundated with phone calls from concerned neighbors about all the noise coming from Paul’s cottage. Several were sure that somebody was trying to kill Paul. Something needed to be done. They were going to go open the door, crack the door open, bust the door open—he needed help. Of course, Zach, in his normal rancher way, replied, "They’re just in there making babies. Leave them alone."
Zach got one phone call from another ranch, the J&J, inquiring about one of theirs that they had sent to have bred. JJ, the guy that owned the ranch, was not a nice, pleasant person by any means, and proceeded to rile up Zach.
"Dammit, Zach, I sent that Jared out there to get bred and I want him bred and returned to me. He’s into the ranch deep. He’s already blown off two other breedings and looks like he’s going to fuck this one up too, unless you get a good breeder on him that will make him get bred."
Zach was as pleasant as he could be and told JJ he would check into the matter, but it would be a little bit because he had several things going on right now. Jared wasn’t his only concern; he had a whole ranch to worry about.
JJ was still upset. "He still hasn’t been touched yet. He would not commit to a breeding. He won’t even get close. He’s aggressive toward the breeder when he tries to be a little too insistent to breed him."
It didn’t take Zach very long to figure out who Jared was. He was the young man that spurned Frank’s advances in the breeding hall in front of Tim. It was a damn good thing that Jared was Jared, because Frank would hurt him if it was his first time.
Zach called Ty and told him that he needed Jared to show up to his office so he could sit down and talk with the young man.
Ty did exactly what his grandfather wanted, brought Jared in, and had him sit right in the chair in front of the desk.
Zach walked in the office and sized up the young man that was sitting there respectfully. He looked at him and said, "Turn around, boy." Jared complied, turning and showing Zach his entire Genman physique. "I understand you have a little problem. Seems like you don’t like to be bred. Your owners said this is the third time they’ve sent you out, and you’re not bred yet."
Jared was almost shaking as he answered in a low voice, just over a whisper. "No sir, I have not been bred yet, and I know I have to be bred before I return to the ranch or Mr. JJ will have them hold me down and still use his biggest breeder on me. I don’t want that, sir. I was hoping that this time would be different, but when that breeder came at me the other night and grabbed me and tried to force himself inside of me, slapping me on the butt, then grabbed my arm, I couldn’t help but defend myself. I did not want to—he was not a good guy, and the child would have been just like him, no good. I want my children to have a good father. I want them to have respect, because that’s what a good father brings to a breeding for his child."