Big, black and powerful. A dark boxcar of latent, dynamic energy. His muscles rippled under the shiny dark hair over his firm, bulky shoulders and haunches. He was standing near the fence, a square block of massive movement. Lowering his head, he sniffed through the fence, his lips curled back, his nostrils flared, his shoulders hunched. He could smell the cow in heat, although she was not yet in sight. The scent made him all male, urgent and demanding. He was in constant, restless movement, at times almost dancing with a heavy tread as he sidled along the fence, scraping it with his side. Saliva dripped from his lips. He swayed slowly from side to side, his tail raised at an angle. Beneath him his large, potent testicles were stretched tautly from the urge in his body. He snorted loudly again and then backed away, pawing the ground with one hoof as he raised his head. With his square, black face raised towards the luminescent sky he roared a mighty bellow which was insistent, commanding, almost an ultimatum.

When he had moved over to the other side of the corral, Chris quickly opened the gate and let the cow in. She stood quietly, switching her tail and looking at the bull. He turned towards her immediately, lowered his head and pawed the ground. Moving to her haunches he sniffed loudly and wetly at her rear. She lifted her tail and he began licking the opening beneath it. His rough tongue caressed her moistly as saliva drooled from his mouth and fell to the ground below.

Cynthia held her breath as she watched the animalistic ritual going on in the corral. Tiny dewdrops of moisture formed between her own legs without her fully understanding why and she closed them tightly together to try and snuff out the tiny ripples of sensation that were for the fast time in her life beginning to stir there.

The bull's heavy, thick pointed penis suddenly emerged from the thick sheath enclosing it. It was wet and glistened in the afternoon sun as its full prominence burst into view.