She was still catching her breath when he turned her over.
His hands at her waist, rolling her, positioning her, and Rhea went onto her knees and elbows like a woman who had dreamed of exactly this for months without ever admitting it. Her skirt up over her back. Her enormous ass raised and presented to him, the twin moons of her cheeks spread wide, the silver rose of the butt plug gleaming between them.
She wiggled her hips, a small, wanton little sway, her hanging tits swinging beneath her, dripping milk onto the grass.
His hand came down and roamed over her ass cheeks, savoring the softness, and his fingers found the plug, tapped it, felt it shift in her, felt her clench around its stem.
"This," he said, "is interesting. What do we have here."
"Do you want to get fucked, My Lady?" He whispered into the grass, trembling with need. "With my cock?"
"It will be my pleasure, Master," she breathed.
