Christa woke with a start and had to rush to catch the bus to college, only just making it in time and pleased she hadn't had to face the blacksmith. Maisie rattled on about Robin and how sweet his cock was, she had sucked it for him and he'd been such a gentleman, telling her when he was about to cum to make sure she didn't get caught by surprise. Christa feigned interest and allowed Maisie to talk all the way into town.

All day she thought about Sherman, she had to get him his shoes, she wanted to ride him again, soon. She also thought about the blacksmith; her fantasy and her dream kept flashing through her mind and she knew she became wet every time she thought of him.

She said goodbye to Maisie as the bus dropped them off in the village saying, “I have to speak to Jake about shoes for Sherman. See you tomorrow.” Maisie waved goodbye and walked off towards her house. Christa slipped through the door of the smithy and stood watching the big man bending and beating red hot metal to his will.

He looked up and saw her, the golden tooth glinting into view as he grinned at her menacingly.

“There's something for you over here.” he said to her, pointing towards a single horseshoe propped against the anvil.

Christa walked towards him looking confused. “Sherman's got four feet, not one.” she said. The big man just shrugged his shoulders and continued beating a piece of glowing iron. “What am I supposed to do with one shoe!” she said, real frustration gathering in her voice.

“Don't know, Missy. What do you want to do about it?” he leered at her.

“Well if you think I'm touching your big horrible...'thing' again you're very much mistaken!” she took a step closer to him, trying to menace him with her anger. “And don't think I want your dirty horrid hands touching me either!” she continued, taking another step closer. “That would be unthinkable, I just won't do it!” she took a further step and was almost touching him now. The heat from his body surrounded her and his unmistakeable scent filled the air around her.

“Is that right?” he said, staring down into her blue eyes. “I'd best not show it to you again then, in case you go getting all offended and upset then run away crying again.” He pulled his leather apron off and started to release the beast from its restraining coverings. “We wouldn't want that to happen again now, would we?”

It seemed that something took over Christa, perhaps it was the heat from the forge, perhaps it was the overpowering manly smell which emanated from the blacksmith's oversized body so close to hers, maybe it was all the years of being in the shadow of Maisie's heaving bosom; certainly all thoughts of Sherman were far from her consciousness. She leaned forward and pulled open the blacksmith's trousers which were held together with a leather thong which boot-laced them together at the fly. Her hand dived in and dragged out his semi-flaccid knob, still monstrous in size despite its state and, falling to he knees pushed as much as she could inside her mouth.

She tugged his trousers down to his knees and one hand squeezed his balls while the other held onto his rapidly thickening shaft. Her head bobbed back and forth in a frenzy as her mouth sucked as hard as she could on the tip every time it came close to her lips. Every so often she would let it slip out and run her tongue around the head, flicking across its eye, licking the long length of its shaft, milking it with her hands to squeeze big drops of slippery clear goo out of the end which she lapped up hungrily.

The monster was quickly at its full size which just spurred Christa on. There was a frantic desperation about her work, an overwhelming urge to taste his cum again and soon. She put her hands on his hips, allowing her fingers to feel the strength in his muscular backside. His buttocks were clenching in time with her mouth sliding down his length, relaxing momentarily as she slipped back, almost allowing his prick to escape her warm wet mouth and tongue. His breathing was becoming hoarse and laboured and his clenching now included thrusting into her gaping mouth.

She imagined him throwing her onto the pile of sheepskins, throwing her skirt up and tearing her panties off; pulling her legs wide and forcing himself into her. She knew his brutal meat would most likely split her in two but the very thought almost made her cum. She felt her pussy squirt a drop of its nectar into her panties and knew she would explore the thought again when she lay awake in her own bed.

Two huge hands clamped onto her head, fingers reaching behind her ears while two thick thumbs stroked her temples. The blacksmith was making loud groaning sounds and pushing himself deeper and deeper into Christa's mouth. Hew jaw already ached from being so wide open for such a long time and she was sure he would choke her if he forced any more of his cock into her mouth towards the back of her throat. Despite this, she had no desire to stop until she had his cum in her mouth.

The first squirt hit the back of her throat and, even though she had been expecting it because of the crescendo the giant man was clearly approaching, she was caught off guard. The sheer volume of is hot seed meant she had to frantically gulp it down, knowing another huge load would follow imminently as sure as night follows day. She was barely more prepared for the second huge spurt and though she swallowed as much as she could a large drool spilled out of her mouth and ran down her chin and neck.

She managed to pull him out her mouth despite his strong hold on her head, almost desperate to avoid being drowned, but she placed both hands around his enormous tool and wanked his stiff prick as hard as she could. His cock continued to spray her with pulse after pulse of his cum, covering her face, neck and hair before she took him back into her mouth to swallow down the waning squirts and squeeze the last drops from him.

Christa had cum herself during this time and her knickers were wet with her own juice while it seemed the whole top half of her body was drenched in now cooling sticky white string. Her tiny nipples were so hard they ached quite deliciously.

She knelt before the blacksmith panting, almost unsure of what had just happened or how it had started, how it had got so out of hand so quickly. His grimy hands were stroking her hair and she was sure they were leaving dirty streaks through it.

She appeared to come to her senses and shook herself free of his touch, releasing her grip on his softening member, slightly reluctantly, and rose to her feet, knees still shaking. Raising herself to her full five feet nothing tall she looked straight into his big green eyes, “How dare you? You filthy beast!” she said, an indignant tone in her voice and she ran out to the street, grateful for the darkness which engulfed her and concealed the gooey evidence of her behaviour from prying eyes.

As she lay between cold sheets the thought of the smithy quickly warmed her through. She replayed the whole experience in her mind over and over again and knew she was dripping wet well before she decided to touch herself. When she finally allowed her fingers to slip between her thighs they found a warm pool of sticky wetness which covered them quickly and squelched as she feathered her clit with her fingers. The scene playing through her head combined with even the gentlest stimulation made her cum over again and again until she finally slipped into deep sleep. There she was teased by dream after dream where the filthy hands of the blacksmith explored every inch of her and he forced his massive prick into her every orifice time after time after time, covering her and filling her with his copious hot cum.

Feelings of disgust and pleasure forced her into shattering orgasms, pulling her into the waking world each time, shaking and panting, a cooling wetness between her thighs and a combination of emptiness and disappointment that her body wasn't being almost crushed by the huge body of the blacksmith taking his pleasure from her frail form.

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