Following two requests for further bestial adventures after my previous story Better Than Boyfriends, which you should read and enjoy first. Here is what I dreamed up: -

Lara is now a year older and living in a converted barn on the zoo. The elephant thing, while still of interest, but difficult for Erik and Lara to enable, she is getting all the cock she craves from Erik the German boss and his Appenzell dog Kurt.

Eighteen months have passed since Lara’s initiation into bestiality, having been fascinated by Raj the young elephant’s exploration with his trunk between her legs, initially when washing him and since, by inserting pieces of his favourite fruit – banana - in her capacious and thickly lipped fanny. Much fun and excitement had generated, developing with Erik the now general manager, since promotion at Paulwell tourist park/zoo, introducing Kurt his big German hound to her snatch, which she loved. She borrowed him often.

Ingrid, Erik’s wife, now joint general manager - No way would she accept being assistant manager - had taken on a lot of other responsibilities following his elevation to top brass. She had just returned from a seminar in Africa, the main discussions being the preservation of elephants, their poaching, their abuse, welfare and zoo attitudes as that was Erik’s and her main interest. She had told him about specialists she had met and the videos she had viewed. Being curious, she had stumbled on a video presentation showing the abuse of many animals, such as inbreeding and one of the featured videos was how to prevent humans having sex with animals. In one particular motion for change by international animal authorities she had been disgusted and outraged by men and women in Vietnam using the famous pot-bellied pig for sexual partners. There had been no success with the motion, mainly because various consultants present indulged in the taboo themselves.

Erik hadn’t accompanied her to the seminar because his place was at Paulwells in the low season, overseeing major repairs, extensions and additions to the park and buildings. Also he loved the freedom without having frosty faced sixty one year old Ingrid around and being able to indulge in as much sex he could manage at the same age as Ingrid with such a rampant young nymphomaniac as Lara. Demanding could be her middle name – but it was actually Demelza, she was originally from Lostwithiel in Cornwall.

“The other disgusting thing during that was a black scientist from Nevada, breast feeding her child in full view, no shrouds to cover her breasts...” Ingrid moaned while they were having their evening meal of sauerkraut and meatballs. “I mean while watching such disgraceful things.”

“A baby at a seminar... ?

“Apparently her descendants were from nearby and her husband, black as her, owned a big zoo in Detroit US, so they’d travelled together – makes sense – but you know...”

Erik would loved to have watched the black woman milking her babe from full, bursting knockers, but didn’t say so. But the mention of a pig might be fun. He caught some TV while she wrote up notes and he snuck off to bed. He played with his cock. He also played with his nipples, knowing his brain worked better on evil ideas when her rubbed and circled them lightly. It felt like someone else was doing it. In his youth at a camp, he’d burned his fingers and now had no feeling in the tips. It was difficult in many ways, but for that very personal reason it was sublime. He thought of introducing Lara to Anh Dung, one of the zoo’s own Pot-bellied porkers in another section of the complex, the one popular with families, as the animals were in the cute range. The fact that Anh Dung lived up to the Viet name meaning Heroism and Strength was the considerable amount of shit he left behind him, according to Boris the ranger in that section.

Being ensconced in two rooms and a bathroom in a converted barn on the Paulwell establishment, Lara was a free agent, not pleasing her mum and dad who missed her bright, chubby presence. They’d moved up to Hampshire when she was five, with her brother John when Frank her builder father had secured a job on a private estate. Also resident, with a tidy private area, in the large barn was Hugh and Sybil Balabon, an elderly pair, who handled the farm shop on Paulwell, farm shops being the trendy thing to attach to any country business on a main road with parking. The Balabons were long term nudists, as indeed so was German Ingrid who had met them at Haslemere Sun Club, liked them and offered them the position when the farm shop was being planned, some years back. Erik had tried naturism, but was not committed enough to bother with it frequently, especially in the UK unhinged weather.

Lara’s door to her apartment was under repair, so she went round the back, where there was a communal entrance. The workmen had left gear all round the old barn, so to get through she used the garden, which was a short cut. The garden area was divided by what had been walled gardens within the garden and she heard to sound of light music to one side. She like the sound, it being Ella Fitzgerald singing ‘It ain’t got that swing’ having had jazz introduced to Lara as a child by her grand parents. She diverted her way round the outer walled section and cut through an ancient brick arch to find Hugh Balabon dozing on a lounger, a glass of beer in a hand resting on his stomach - the glass in great danger of spilling such was his sleepy state. Lara was concerned – not by the wet mess he would soon be in but by the delicious sight of his cock. He was trying to catch the waning suns rays after closing the farm shop. He was stark naked.

Hugh had been reading N, a subscription magazine published by a Nudist group, dropped where the beer would soon drench it. The photographs were totally related to the nudist movement and he’d been quite excited by some of them in a junior section, surprised they’d been published, very close to being illicit.

“Hugh...” bellowed a distant Sybil, startling Hugh and Lara, who stood transfixed by his dick, it could have been Erik lounging there. He sat up, shook his head, the beer went on his belly, his crotch and the grass, missing the dark blue recliner. He had turned to one side and when Sybil screeched this time, he turned towards their residence and saw Lara. She started to turn and run.

“Lara that you?” he asked groggily, clumsily fumbling to retrieve the magazine to mask his genitals.

“So sorry Hugh, I heard the music, came in and...”

“For Christ sake Hugh...” exclaimed an irate Sybil, entering through the arch behind Lara. “What are you ... Lara, what’s he... ? We’re due out soon, been calling you for ages, sorry Lara, we’re a pair of silly buggers aren’t we?”

The fact that she was near as dammit naked too, didn’t help her trying to be bossy and dominant, with only a small joke pinafore round her fat, over hanging belly, not fully shielding her big black bush. Lara as usual when faced with male nudity hadn’t been fazed with Hugh, but to see his wife’s totally opposite bodily structure nude, where he was good looking, tall and lean, was not only a surprise but awakened her long wished and impossible to achieve for bigger tits than her small paps.

Sybil’s teats were low slung on low slung hangers and impressively big, round and dark.

“It’s my fault Sybil, I just wandered in liking the music and there he was...”

“Ballock naked,” Hugh chuckled. “I thought you knew we used this area to build up our tan,” getting a shake of Lara’s head, who didn’t even know her near neighbours were nudists, which she assumed. “Well we do and now you know ... Why on earth are you wearing that?” Hugh pointed at Sybil’s pinny.

His exasperated wife held up her hands white with flour. “Because I wanted to finish the cake I was baking to take with us - silly. Never mind him Lara, come on now Hugh.”

She wobbled off, her big wide fat buttocks wobbling, her massive drooping knockers swaying, the string round her waist smothered in the rolls of spare flesh. She spotted something on the brick path, stopped and bent down to study then pick it up. To do so, Sybil splayed her legs wide making her buttocks open and through her blubbly legs, Lara saw the white pinafore providing a background to what looked like to Lara, the hanging gardens of Balabon. Mrs Balabon was extremely hirsute, that motion revealing her hairy armpits too.

Her butt was too fleshy to reveal her rear orifice, but the distinct entrance to where it would be was clear. The debris she picked was crumbled in her fist and she continued. Hugh grumpily followed after gathering his glasses and the empty beer glass, muttering apologies to the young zoo assistant, whose eyes never left the swing of his donger.

Eating her dinner, Lara watched TV, a programme about eating disorders. Lara was sturdily built, big boned, not overweight and she stared and shook her head at the stick insect like girls – always girls, depicted. She thought back to Hugh, well of course she did; a handsome mature naked man to a nympho – is the Pope a Catholic? So like Erik. Tall lean, rangy and has a cock that partly in repose was very very sexy - I wonder. He and Sybil always seem content in the few times she’d been in their company, usually at corporate functions or more likely staff events. It wasn’t as if Lara had noises from their bedroom which was adjacent to hers, but the barn walls were immense. He might be a cock worth exploring, but watch out for Sybil.