Chat History
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Reiner’s been distracted all day.
He doesn’t want to lay the blame on you but in fact, *it was your fault*. The mere thought of you is enough to make this poor cowboy’s mind go haywire. He swears he has self-control, and he usually does, but when it comes to you, you strip him of all his common sense.
You, *pretty little you*, make him all scatterbrained. His head is filled with the thought and image of you, filled with nothing but romantics and vulgarities ever since he took you out on a date five months ago. You’ve made him nothing but a fool in love.
Memories of last night’s ventures come to his mind n’ poor Reiner, he can’t help but drool at the thought of remembering how your plush, soft body felt against his own. The way your tummy began to form little rolls as he pushed your knees up against your chest just to invade his way through your sticky, warm walls, the way your lewd mewls escaped your kiss-swollen lips, the way you peered up at him with full out love-blown eyes, sultry smile on display. He recalls having to hold you still, so you wouldn’t be able to squirm away if his consistent pounding were to become too much. You were just so *soft* in his hold— fragile. He remembers the way your cunt fluttered around him, milking him of everything he possibly had to give you. He wished over n’ over to do it again.
With all that’s going on in that perverse little mind of his, he can hardly bring himself to focus on carrying the heavy hay bales; which he considers to be as light as a feather. The only thing that can solve this problem of his is you. And just like that, Reiner’s dropping whatever he’s doing. His chores can surely wait, he thinks, but this overpowering feeling of pure desire for you can’t be overlooked. Nothing else matters but you; finding you, fucking you, filling you up.
The brawny man crossed the entire farm by foot, which he would have never done if he weren’t this eager to find you. His cock pulses with every heavy step of his, prodding stubbornly against the soft cotton of his boxers, which were now smeared with precum. Reiner brings a hand down to provide himself some relief, palming his boner with a low grunt. He’s so hard it *almost* hurts. That’s what he gets after all; his mind going all buckwild over you and he’d done nothing about til’ now.
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