Chapter 3: A Donkey Named Peter

The Kinsey reports tell us that women are known to give cunnilingus to cows and mares, sheep and goats. They fellate donkeys and manage coitus with bulls, stallions, donkeys, and ponies. Not always for "show" purposes, but because they prefer it and like it.

Most bestiality on farms is between boys and animals. Dr. Frank Caprio details this in Variations in Sexual Behavior, but "most" means some bestiality is between girls and women and animals.

And Dr. Rosenberger, in Bestiality, suggests it is of greater incidence: "It is believed by many medical authorities that the percentage for women is even higher!"

Thus it is not too surprising that an adult woman could or would involve herself sexually with a donkey. Given the circumstances described below by a retired veterinarian it is highly credible.

Howie is sixty-five years old and a retired veterinarian. He used to live in a mountain state, in a poor country that was mostly scratch farms and rocks.

I met him when I stopped at a local park for a few moments to watch a shuffleboard match.

Howie is a garrulous, white-haired, small, portly man who, when I first met him and later when I interviewed him in depth, was wearing violent red suspenders and a wildly colorful Hawaiian shirt... with gray pants and wing-tip brogues... and a straw hat.

He was soaking up the sun, peering through sunglasses and talking at anyone who came near.

He vented a constant flow of information about himself, about life, about his circumstances, about his former profession, about people and life in general:

'Well, you know, the grave is the last place anyone expects to end up, even when he's got one foot in it."

The bad thing about working with animals is you have to put up with their owners.

"With Social Security I get lots of society but damn little security."

Howie isn't very original but he talks fast, he has a pleasant lilt to his slightly nasal voice, and he uses his hands like an orchestra conductor.

After a few minutes of talking about himself, he asked me why I was free in the middle of the afternoon. I told him I was my own boss--a writer... and inevitably I told him my specialty."

"Things I could tell you if you're interested... things happen on farms you wouldn't believe. People and animals are isolated--snowed in--for months on end; some pretty hairy things happen."

"Yes, air, and not just with the men doing things with cows and sheep and mares and pigs... that's common. What I mean is the farm women sometimes out there in the mountains without men. Widows... women in their forties sometimes, with a lot of vinegar left in them, they do some strange things to scratch that old sex itch."

"No one out there, to tell on them, you see. Animals won't tell. Well, that ain't true exactly, either. An animal will tell a vet a lot in small ways... there's ways of telling what's been goin' on, to a trained eye. I could tell you..."

Of course I invited him to my place with the understanding I would make a recording of what he said, but would alter names and places, if specific names and places were mentioned, and when they were mentioned."

That was agreeable to Howie; he loved to talk, and "Talking down-and-dirty about sex--that's my favorite kind of talk."

I laid in a supply of beer to keep his throat well oiled at his hinted request and he showed up exactly when he said he'd be by.

"I used to laugh my fool head off when a cow or heifer or a mare or filly'd get colic or something and I'd be called out to a farm. If there was a boy on the farm in his teens maybe, or a young hand, and he was hanging around looking worried about the animal and he didn't own the animal, then right away I knew he'd been dipping it in on the sly and was scared I'd find out some way."

"You know, sometimes the young ones would be worried sick they'd caused the animal to be sick. Some figured sure as hell the animal was pregnant from him and was goin' to have a half-man foal or something."

"But what raised the hair on the back of my neck was when a woman was the one who was worried about a stud animal, worried in a certain way. Hard to describe what I mean. Didn't come across it too much, but..."

"Well, there was a time like that about thirty years ago during the war. This young woman was stuck on a farm and her husband was off in the Army--in North Africa, I think--and she was just putting in her time, not farming the land. She lived off the allotment checks. That was a hard, lonely life for her with nothing but a radio and a donkey for company."

"Turned out that donkey... name was Peter, as I remember... turned out that donkey was a lot more than company for her."

"How I got into it was this way: the animal turned croupy some time in, oh, I guess it was February or so of '43, and she came in to my office to have me come out to see to it."

Now I remember this in detail, in vivid detail, what comes later, because it is something you do not see every day or every year or every decade, even. Seeing a pretty woman getting poled by a donkey is a sight to see!"

"Now I got to set this scene for you, so you bear with me now. I liked this woman, let's just call her Bess since I don't want to give her, real first name and you don't want me to anyway."

"I liked Bess, and I had an idea I might get close to her if she had a yen for it and didn't mind cheating on her husband a little."

"Bess was a pretty woman... damned pretty... with long chestnut brown hair hanging straight down, like your hippie girls wear hair now, and Bess kept her hair long and combed shiny. Never saw a speck of dandruff in her hair. And she was tall for a woman, too, about five-nine or so, and solid. Not fat, not chunky or too hippy. She had a figure on her! Curves in the right places. A nice big pair of milkers an her, meat on her bones, but not a bit too much. Fine, shapely woman, oh, about thirty-three years old or so."

"She had a proud look to her. Kept her head up all the time and looked everybody right square in the eye."

"You could have knocked me over with a straw when I saw what I saw that day a couple weeks later."

"Right away I went along to her place--about fifteen miles out--and dosed that animal with some new stuff that was out that was good for the croup. Peter--the donkey--was wheezin' and coughin' pretty bad. That was when I got the cold feeling along my neck--the way she stood over him and had to be sure he'd get better. She was in love with that animal, more'n she loved her husband. I could tell. The little barn was neat, clean, everything painted, fresh hay, feed, oh, she was pampering that stud."

"What made me sick and sure was how clean that animal was. She must have given him shampoos and put perfume on him... for all I know she maybe wiped his asshole after he shit. He was that clean."

"But what clinched it for me was the way that animal reacted to her. He brayed soft-like, and looked at her--followed her with his eyes everywhere she went in that barn."

"And if she got close and petted him, stroked his neck like, then that pecker of his started to come out into sight. Slid out like a pink bone, it did."

"I noticed it and she saw me look and she turned red--just colored up like a girl seeing her first naked man."

"She stopped touching that animal then. She moved away fast and turned away and went out to the house to get me a drink of something."

"But I knew. I had the stomach flops for a few minutes, thinking about it."

"And over in a corner of the barn, maybe twenty feet away, was this narrow little mattress with a blanket sewn around it. Not more than two feet wide and three feet long--it was a baby's mattress, from a crib. Had to be, now I think on it. Always puzzled me. Now I figure it out thirty years later. The mind of man is a wondrously stupid thing, sometimes."

"Well, I couldn't figure at the time what that little mattress was for. When I came back two weeks later without her knowing I'd be visiting... I found out my suspicions were right."

"What a sight--Bess on her hands and knees on that mattress under that animal, her getting poled with that pink bone like there was no tomorrow!"

"I admit, I admit, there's a lot of pure dirty curiosity in me, and a good handful of voyeur in me, too. I've seen things on the sly that few men ever see."

"Seen lots of men and boys poling animals. Some were right out in the open about it with me. They didn't think it wrong at all. They figured it didn't matter one way or the other, since it's only an animal, and it feels good."

"One old coot of a prospector used to bang his donkey mare all the time--for years--out in the mountains while he was panning out stake money and looking for a big strike."

"Lots of widowers take to their cows. Can't say I blame them. No woman will live on them scratch farms with 'em. Those men got no place else to go and nothin' else they can do. A man needs some pleasure and a man's pecker gets pretty demanding."

"So you get the rare woman who takes to a stallion donkey or maybe a colt... not too surprisin' under some situations."

"Usually, though, a woman can always find a man, if she needs company and some fun in bed. No call to start using an animal. Most men will travel a long way to bed a woman."

"And you take a handsome young woman like Bess! Well... maybe she figured it wasn't adultery if she did it with Peter, her donkey. Just an animal, you see, just an animal."

"I don't know her psychology. I'm only speculating. Had to be something a little loose in her mind, though."

"Trouble is, and I speak frankly now, trouble is, once a woman gets a taste of the right animal--you know, once she gets one of them big poles in her and an animal whomps it into her a time or two--then she's no good for a man after that. Once a woman gets a taste of that kind of fucking... she's spoiled. She won't ever be full satisfied with a mere man again."

"Yes, I'm gettin' to it. As I said, I went back to Bess's farm a couple weeks later with the excuse in my mind to check up on Peter."

"Actually, I drove up there in the early evening with the idea maybe I'd get to see something. Well, I'll confess to you... I went on out to her place and snuck around in the bushes six times before I hit."

"Left my car around the hill and walked in half a mile each time. Crept up and saw a light in the barn."

"Crept up to the barn and peeked in through a crack between those old, warped boards. Big enough to get a good look-see."

"It like to took my breath away. I was right on the money. There was Bess pushing that little mattress under Peter. She had him haltered and boxed into a corner so he couldn't move very much and maybe do her damage with his hooves."

"She had a robe on, I guess, wrapped around her and from where I was looking, her bent over and a lot of leg showing, and her big milkers jiggling and hanging loose when she moved, I got me the idea she was stark naked underneath."

"My heart started pumping heavy, let me tell you. But I could tell I wasn't going to get a good view from where I was looking, so I crept slow and quiet around to where Peter was tied up against the wall and found me another good crack to look in through."

"Bess had electricity for the house, but it wasn't strung for the barn, so she had an oil lantern hung up on a spike in a post near Peter."

"I could see in fine, but she couldn't see me peeking in. Shadows in the cracks and such."

"Bess was kneeling beside that donkey, rubbing his neck and sides and sort of crooning to him, saying words I couldn't get. But I was looking through a crack low enough down for me to see his pole sliding out."

"Now let me tell you a few things about a donkey. Most city people don't know beans about animals, 'specially a donkey. A donkey is like a very small horse, but shaggier, and his ears are longer. He comes up to a man's stomach with his body and he'll look you in the eye with his head up. A donkey'll weigh three-- four times what a man does. So you can expect a donkey's pecker is a mighty size for a woman to get around."

"When Peter's pecker came easing down I was in a good position to see it--I wasn't more than three or four feet away, actually. And that thing was like... well, like a child's arm from fist to elbow, just about that size. Kind of a wet purple in color. Mean-looking thing. My belly was knotting up tight, from anticipating Bess taking that ugly pole into her passage."

"Meanwhile, Bess was kneeling beside the animal and her hands were moving closer and closer under his barrel of a chest, down into the shaggy yellow-white hair of his underbelly."

"She got her left hand on that wet purple thing and started playing with it, running her fingers up and down on it, and getting her hand around it and starting to kind of jack him off."

"Peter started gettin' frisky with her doing that to him. He brayed a lot, but not too loud, and he stomped the floorboards good. And he tossed his head and turned his neck to look at her."

"Bess let go of his pole and opened up her robe and let it fall off her shoulders. Oh, what a woman she was. I've never seen a woman to match her since, and I've seen my share."

"She was very white--white skin all over--and built like that ol' brick shithouae, you know? Had a pair of milkers on her... came out to here with beautiful, red, crinkled up teats. You'd swear she had a half-gallon of milk in them breasts of hers, they were so swollen and stuck-out and round. You'd swear it would be a kindness to her to start suckin' on them."

"And she had an ass on her... each half nice and smooth and round... and legs like you see in the movies."

"Only thing not perfect about Bess was her left foot, which was clubbed, from when she was born, and she walked with a limp and had to wear a special shoe. Shoes for her cost up to fifty dollars, I heard once. Still and all, everybody figured her husband got a bargain, marrying her."

"But maybe that clubfoot made her a little odd In the head. Kids can be cruel to crippled kids, and I bet she got bent in the head when she was young. Maybe that's why she took to that donkey. Or maybe it was those long, cold, dark mountain winters."

"But there I was crouchin' outside that barn lookin' in through a crack in the boards... and there she was crawlin' in under that donkey, with him stampin' and slobberin' from the mouth, all ready to go, with that long pecker all slid out."

"I frankly didn't think any woman could hope to encompass all that much pole. I frankly didn't think any woman had that much of a hole in her."

"But Bess... I'm telling you. She crawled under that animal with her ass rubbing the end of that big pecker, and she's on all fours, like an animal herself, and she gits on her hands and knees under him, between his four legs, like it was a natural thing. I got a cold chill seeing her in that position. Wasn't anything to the creepy feeling I got when she and him started fucking."

"Bess reached back under between her legs and grabbed that pole and put the end of it into herself. That was a thick chunk to get in, too, let me tell you. And Peter didn't make it any easier for her. He was moving around as much as he could, and beginning to shove, too."

"But she got it into herself and when he felt that he up and clopped his front feet up on a shelf, just like held been trained to, I expect, and this gave him a purchase and an angle he needed, like he was mounting a she-donkey, and he got that first big shove into her good."

"I could hear everything pretty good. That board wall was a sieve for sound, and when that pole slammed into her, Bess let out a grunt with a squeal on the end of it you could've heard for a hundred yards."

"Of course she didn't limit herself that way. She figured she was alone for ten miles every way around. So she let herself go. She talked to that animal like he was human."

"What she did--she leaned forward when he shoved, and leaned back when he pulled back, and that way she wasn't impaled all at once, and she didn't lose him, either. She had it all worked out."

"Even so... she didn't match him right a couple times and that pecker fell out of her. She had to reach back and put it back in."

"And a lot of times--'specially toward the end--she or he lost the rhythm and she took nearly all of that pole--SMACK-- whole! and boy, she howled good. But it was a good-feelin' howl, I could tell. She liked it even if it did near stretch her box to the limit. She had it plow into her like that over a dozen times, I imagine, and her whole body would snap tight like a jolt of electricity had gone through her."

"I think that fucking lasted a good ten minutes. She got to where she was out of her mind, had her hands straight forward on the boards, pushing herself back on that mighty pecker that was plowing into her, right up into her. I didn't believe a woman could find room for a pecker that big around and that long. I sure as hell ain't seen the like since."

"You take a look at a seven or eight-year-old's arm sometime, from the fist to the elbow, and you try to imagine that's a purple donkey pole getting shoved up into a handsome young woman, naked, in a barn... The things people will do."

"I got to admit I was sweating while watching all this. I got the hot chills from seeing it. And my right hand was down in my pants, rubbing away good."

"But Bess was the one who was really enjoying that fucking she was getting. She was grunting every time it went in... and usually it went in only about two-thirds. She was drooling a little, too, and not knowing or caring about it. The woman was out of her mind. I don't know what it feels like to be a woman, getting fucked like that animal was fucking her, and I don't want to."

"The cap on it was when the animal shot his wad into her. He got wild and was fucking her so hard I thought she'd get ruptured. She was having that pole all the way in, having it shoved in with a couple hundred pounds of impact."

"She was helpless, like a worm taking a hook. Except she kept pushing back for more each time he pushed her forward."

"I have to say she shocked me. I was squatting outside, peering in through that crack in the boards, beating my meat, watching it all, and I was hypnotized. Bess's milkers were wobbling under her, like round white pots. Her head was hanging down, and her long hair was trailing on the blanket over the little mattress."

"And all this was in that yellow light from the lantern and with all that fucking causing shadows. And that animal was breathing loud and fast, like a windstorm. And he kept clomping his hooves on the boards and braying once in a while... and shoving that pole into her as fast as he could. He couldn't get enough into her, it looked like, and she was grunting when he got most or all of it in, grunting like a big man had slugged her in the gut."

"When that animal shot his wad it was like a fountain of cream had backed up in her. It came shooting out around his pole from her insides, like a pump. Each time he shoved into her he shot more into her hole and each time when he got in deep enough the pressure would squirt the stuff out of her."

"I guess I was pop-eyed seeing all that. I had a handful of my own stuff shooting out into my pants, I admit that. Got nothing to hide. Not at this late date."

"Bess was grunting and howling like crazy while that animal was shooting in her. It was enough to turn me gray. Didn't know whether to run in there and stop it or not."

"Then it was over. Peter brayed loud once and started to struggle to get his front legs down off that shelf made of two-by- fours."

"Bess got out from under him quick. She looked punch-drunk, and she was dripping a steady flow of his stuff out of her hole."

"She stood up and helped him down. Then she put some extra oats in his feed trough and put on her robe again. She limped out of the barn with the lantern and went into the house."

"I went back to my car down the road and drove home. I was pretty wrung out, and I guess Bess slept good that night, too."

"The thing is, you see, I couldn't let it alone. I wanted to see that happen again, and stirrin' in my mind was a strong yen to do things with Bess myself."

"Now, I knew I had an ace to play, having seen what she did with old Peter. But I figured a picture would be something powerful to get my way with."

"Understand, I was a young man then, and I had a lot of Piss and vinegar in me. And good lookin' women were hard to find in that county."

"I'm not too particular how I get my way, sometimes. I figured Bess was fair game. All I needed was a good lever."

"I wasn't too nice a guy in those days. I was 4-F because of ulcers and the fact that the county draft board figured I was essential to the area, being the only vet for fifty miles or so."

"I had a good camera, used it to take picture of animals for records and such. Did some picture-taking at the county fairs-- prize animals and such as that, for the local weekly."

"So... you guessed it, yes, I haunted Bess's farm every afternoon and early evening for a week before she got her yen up for that donkey's pole."

"I got my hopes up one afternoon, but she was full-dressed and carrying a bucket. She spent an hour combing and brushing and wiping that animal."

"I kept coming back each day. I'm a persistent cuss, sometimes. I figured she'd set him up again in the same place, so he could rear up and get his front feet on that shelf... so I sneaked up to the barn and I whittled out that crack so it was wide enough to take a picture through. Then I rubbed dirt on the cut parts so she wouldn't notice right away."

"Well, she came out to the barn one early evening, and I was a-waiting. Camera ready. I wasn't sure what kind of picture I'd get with only that lantern for light, but I had a big lens and I could open 'er up to one point five and I figured a tenth of a sec would do 'er. Had that fast double film."

"She had a little bit of hard candy for Peter. She fed it to him in the palm of her hand and stroked his neck and scratched his ears good. He smelled her. She had on the same robe and from the way her milkers jiggled and her teats stuck out, I could make a good guess she was mother naked under it."

"Sure enough, she led him over to the same place and pulled that blanket-covered little mattress over. Then she let her robe fall... and all that beautiful white body was there to see. Those big milkers. I remember thinking it was a waste she never had any kids."