Take the eggs and head to the house... almost

When you're at the barn door with the basket of eggs you look down at the pair of shorts on the ground and wonder if you should bother putting them on. You're still stiff as a pole and the idea of walking into the house fully nude was making you stiffer. You realise then that nobody else was probably home though because there were three other piles of discarded clothing still in the straw.

"I'll take those!" comes an excited voice whose owner scampers into the barn. Her paws are already taking the basket out of your hands before you fully process what's happening.

"Abby?" you say, as if seeing her for the first time.

"Yes Master Jon?" she says, pink tongue hanging out happily. Abby is one of the farm dogs, a morphed springer spaniel sheepdog cross with a bright and easily excitable disposition. She has mostly white fur, with floppy brown ears and brown patches over her eyes. She has a pair of the most pert and perfect breasts you've ever seen. They're perfectly proportioned to the rest of her fit and athletic body thanks to her herding instincts that have her running around the farmyard most of the day as she works. You're already imagining your hands holding onto her lean waist as you do her doggy style, or maybe hooking your fingers under her collar...

Her sparkling eyes fall to your erection and she retracts her panting tongue to swallow some saliva. Her wet nose twitches and she looks down at one of the eggs which has your drying cum splattered over the shell and her drooling recommences. Oh right the eggs.

"You're taking the eggs?" you ask her dumbly, brain a little under-served in oxygenated blood at the moment. Abby nods keenly and is already starting to back out of the barn.

"Yes! Bruce got us together this morning to divvy out your other farmyard tasks. I'll take these eggs back to house for you," she says. You don't want her to go and you see the dog **** to tear her eyes away from your cock. "So I can't... I can't play with master right now," she says sadly. "Too much work to do. But so do you! I think Mel is due for a shearing. You should head to the shearing shed!" And with that Abby dashes off with the basket of eggs and the last you see of her is a bushy wagging tail on her tight furry butt.

What a tease. You shrug it off and wonder if there's a map to the layout of the Big Barn because you don't really know where everything is. You think about where the milking station and chicken pens are situated and realise the interior of the Big Barn must reflect a similar layout to the farm proper, so you reorient yourself with those two land marks then head in the direction the sheep paddock would be.

Your assumptions are correct and reach the shearing station fast. It's more of a half-room with a doorless doorway and inside you find Mel already waiting. She seems embarrassed to see you there in all of your naked glory.

Mel isn't wearing any clothes either though her body is covered in pale wool. It's odd how naked she still looks. Perhaps because her shapeliness is still noticeable with the curve of her hips beneath her cloudy coat and the mounds of her breasts, large pink nipples poking out of the fluff. They're stiff and pointed. She looks down self-consciously, blushing.

"Hello, farmer Jon," she greets you, sheepishly (of course) .

image source: http://cyancapsule.tumblr.com/post/142148250606/mollys-seasonal-shearing-habits-this-ask-happens

"Wow," you say, approaching her as your cock starts to swell. "I mean, hello Mel." Her eyes can't help but move to your erection and she stares at it as you examine her. Stepping around you see that she is quite fluffy and does look ready for a shearing. Starting around the back of her shoulders you sink your fingers into her fleece. The sheep's wool is softer than you anticipated and when you push your hand through the outer layer you feel her almost silky inner coat. She shivers at your touch but doesn't otherwise move as you continue to investigate the depths of her wool like you really know what you're looking for. Your hands move down past her tail you're surprised by how much of the wool on her shapely ass isn't wool but just her natural thickness. You can't stifle an aroused grunt from yourself as you squeeze her warm flesh. She turns her head slightly and takes a step back, her tail brushing your balls. Now your hands slide up her woolly hips and you reach up to cup her breasts, your hands sinking beneath her coat to touch the softness of her flesh. The academic part of your wool investigation is obviously over and you hear her soft moans.

It's taking some degree of self control to stop yourself from thrusting your hardness blindly into her woolly behind. You imagine you could probably finish by simply pumping away between her cheeks and her soft silky wool, hole or no hole. But there's a job to do first. You should probably find out how to do it. You don't stop playing with Mel's amazing tits as you ask "What do you need me to do?"

She doesn't respond right away, instead just letting herself enjoy her massage which seems to ease the tension and shyness from the sheepgirl.

"The shears are on the wall," she sighs, moving her hips almost imperceptibly so that her tail caresses your cock like a tickling breeze. "...I need to be sheared first." You see the machine shears but continue massaging her fluffy breast, gently pinching her fleshy nipples.

"And then?" you ask in her soft, flopping pointed ear.

"And then..." she says, pausing as you pull her teat and she bristles. "And then you can... make me orgasm." You let go of her breasts and she takes a long breath.

"What will that do?" you ask, her timidness turning you on more than you expected.

"The stimulation will help me regrow my coat faster," she explains, now caressing her own breasts. "and your ... semen will keep my fleece thick and healthy." Well there you go. Science.