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I couldn’t imagine just how a dirty naked guy like me, for instance, would fit into the animal competition at the coming county fair or why a bunch of quite conservative farming folks would be so interested in how my penis works.There was a strange mystique that had developed and there had to be some unearthly influence guiding community people’s minds. They were all programmed to assume four legged beasts fucking because their livelihood depended on it but I was a human guy with an enormous penis that was being put to use in local women. My penis was as big as large livestock, maybe bigger, but it was magic when I used it because no woman ever complained about the size. It was a fits-all. It was addictive, creamy smooth and soft plus the gizem produced seemed a compelling opiate, aside from its food value.But how in the world was it possible it was just okay that I was fucking them. The oddest situation arose when a farmer would schedule servicing using one our bulls with a couple. She looked to the raised dais at the front of the chapel. Damn, this Elvis was good. Not the fat, cheesy older one. Not the boyish man-child that had stepped on the world’s stage. The man…the mature one in black leather that had ruled this town as its top headliner for almost a decade in the seventies. He had that song down pat. How many times a day did he sing it, she wondered? How many of those were the disasters in the making that her first tow marriages had been? Her eyes drifted to Elvis’s right. He stood there in a suit. Simple but functional like the man. His shoulders were broad. Broad enough to carry the baggage that she had brought to this relationship. Broad enough to break down the doors…walls…fortresses…that she had built around her heart. Lynn smiled and tried to focus upon his face. But the tears must be back because all she saw was a… *** All she saw was a blur. Lynn sat bolt upright in her bed. The sheets were wet with sweat. But it was a different kind of.
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