Enter Buttercup's stall and use my mouth on her pussy to make her cum

Cowgirl Barn, Building Seven, Paradise Breeding Farm, Rural Montana, at 11:13 AM on Monday April 3rd, 2024 (Day 1 of 7)

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I move quickly to Buttercup's stall, my hands trembling as I unlatch the door. It swings open and the blonde cowgirl practically collapses against me, her massive breasts pressing against my chest, milk soaking through my shirt instantly.

"Please, please, please," Buttercup whimpers, her pupils blown wide with heat-driven need. "I can't think, I can't breathe, everything hurts, please help me—"

"Shh," I murmur, guiding her back against the stall wall. "I'm going to take care of you."

I drop to my knees on the hay-covered floor, and Buttercup immediately spreads her thick thighs wide, revealing her pussy—swollen, flushed deep pink, absolutely drenched with arousal. Her inner thighs are slick with it, glistening in the barn light, and the scent hits me like a physical force: fertile, sweet, overwhelming.

"Yes, yes, please touch me," she begs, her hips already rolling forward desperately.

I lean in and press my mouth to her pussy, my tongue sliding through her slick folds. She tastes incredible—sweet and musky and so fucking wet that my chin is instantly coated. I flatten my tongue and lick upward, finding her clit swollen and throbbing.

"Oh fuck!" Buttercup cries out, her hand fisting in my hair. "Yes, right there, please don't stop—"

I seal my lips around her clit and suck, my tongue flicking rapidly over the sensitive bud. Her thighs clamp around my head and she grinds against my face, fucking my mouth with desperate, jerky movements. Milk streams from her nipples, running down her belly, dripping onto my shoulders.

"Gonna cum," she gasps, her voice breaking. "Gonna cum, gonna cum, oh god I'm—"

I slide two fingers inside her and curl them upward, stroking that textured spot on her inner wall while my mouth works her clit relentlessly. She's so tight, clenching rhythmically around my fingers, her whole body trembling.

"FUCK!" Buttercup screams, and then she's cumming—hard.

Her pussy clamps down on my fingers like a vice and then she's gushing, a torrent of clear fluid spraying directly into my face, flooding my mouth, soaking my hair and shirt. I swallow reflexively but there's too much—it pours down my chin, my neck, drenching me completely as her orgasm goes on and on, wave after wave of squirting release.

When she finally stops, I'm absolutely drenched. My shirt clings to my skin, transparent and soaked through with a mixture of Buttercup's milk and ejaculate. The scent of fertile cowgirl arousal is so strong I can taste it with every breath.

Buttercup sags against the wall, panting, her eyes clearer now.

"Thank you," she breathes. "Oh god, thank you."

From Clover's stall, I hear a low, satisfied chuckle.

"Fuck, that was beautiful," Clover purrs. "You look perfect like that, Cassandra—on your knees, face dripping with pussy juice, completely soaked in breeding scent. Every futa in this barn can smell you now. Tonight's going to be very interesting."