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.17 HMR (MF, varmit, varmint hunting with handguns, light DS, graphic, menstrual sex
*Author's note: this is probably my favorite adult erotic fiction story of all time that I myself authored because it sounds so real and authentic to me at least, your opinion may be different and opinions do vary, but in any case I give you my word that no actual varmits were harmed during the production of this story, enjoy!*
(MF, varmit, varmint hunting with handguns, light DS, graphic, light
"Hey yourself Bigger Guy" giving my bigger-than-most bigger-guy-fiancÚ'
a sweeterstill but hard kiss on the lips as I got out of my old Celica
"Missed you too" his hands roughly groping me through the heavy duck
fabric of my camouflaged coveralls, my hands lightly pushing them away for
"We've got plenty of time for that later, Mr. Horny-Day-Dog, it'll be
light soon and we need to go get staked out before the little critters wake
up" as I grabbed my ThompsonCenter Contender pistol and hunting
shoulder-holster rig from the trunk of my trusty old rust bucket, he
handing me my new Peterson Custom Armory special barrel in .17 Hornaday
Magnum Rimfire / HMR caliber, a twenty grain bullet traveling at a
half-mileper-second velocity (2245 fps) smaller than common .22 rimfire
round but speeding faster than any sniper-rifle round I unlocking my old
.22-250 barrel from the T-C Contender's single-shot receiver block and
locking the new .17 HMR barrel in place, he shoving a couple of small
plastic boxes of .17 ammo in my coverall's pockets trying to cop a free
feel of my pantied crotch and I letting him before playfully pulling away
"Yeah, I know" his smile now a bit of a frown as he put his arm around
my waist and we walked down the well-worn path around his old Southern
mansion farmhouse to the gate of his fenced-in three nearly four thousand
acres of open pasture.
"I love you" I kissing him on the cheek as we made our way over the
multitude of hills and dales of his family's now only his now that his
father now deceased last year his mother gone years before massive old
agricultural holding one time one of the largest continuous unbroken
stretches of livestock pasture in the state he growing up here just outside
of the major metro city of Raleigh and loving it but now not loving
metro-arealevel taxes even with the so-called farmland property tax break
and never loving the hardwork of cattle and horses growing up he now
leasing his acreage to neighbors for their cattle to graze on to where he
could make enough profit off of it to pay his taxes before in time he would
sell out to some developer for yet another family farm lost and another
last of landed blueblood gentry millionaires made, hopefully by then we'd
be married and I'd be Mrs. Big Guy, actually Mrs. Jonathan
Ballaerin-Guerre, thank you.
We walked over the ridge of a small hillock and saw three or four of the
little buggers we were after scurrying around foraging early in the dewed
grass in the easing dawn's light. The main colony of them was another
quarter-mile away but this was too good an opportunity to pass up.
"Remember, the round is ballistically perfect zero at one hundred yards,
drops four-anda-quarter at one-fifty, twelve and change at two hundred
yards out" he prattling on as the whistle-pigs about seventy five yards
perked up to notice us for a moment, we freezing in our tracks until they
went back to feeding.
"It's sweet that you always think of me as a girl" I kidded him back as
I opened the factory ammo case up and shook a few rounds loose in my hand,
putting one in the barrek and one loose between my fingers and the others
back in my pocket.
"You are a girl, dear, thankfully, or I'd be gay as a motherfucker" he
easing a kiss on my lips and a hand forced its way over the crotch of my
heavy cammo coveralls, the thick fabric comfortable in the damp morning
"Not now, honey, later, after we've wasted some greasy groundhog ass."
"On three as usual?"
Slowly we kneeled down, sitting on the ground with our knees in front,
using them as a base to steady our heavy T-C target pistols, him picking
out the fat buck in the middle of the grazing small herd, me picking out a
smaller juvenile closer to me out on the edge.
"Three, two, one!" he whispered as both our pistols retorted virtually
simultaneously and two varmints dropped like they had been hit by lightning
where they stood, two perfect single shot kills, my heart rate
accelerating, my breathing increasing, my excitement increasing, God, I do
love hunting so much.
My guy got hit midships in his belly area but surprisingly there wasn't
an exit wound, surprisingly because this new caliber of bullet was supposed
to be the hottest thing for killing small helpless defenseless critters
since the .454 Casull wildcat round was created. Strange.
I flicked my folding Buck knife open and sliced his belly open and then
saw why Deary and so many others have been raving about this round; his
insides weren't there when I sliced him open; well, there were there but
were unrecognizable, were an absolute mass of goo, the tremendous amount of
energy of the round expended inside his body cavity just turning his
stomach and lungs and intestines into absolute groundhog-jello. Cool!
Sweetie's single-shot-kill round had passed completely through his guy,
leaving a pencil-lead-sized exit wound and having an almost imperceptible
entry point in the fur, but the results on his whistlepig was pretty much
the same, his insides compressed and relaxed and then Cuisinarted into an
unrecognizable mass of raw groundhog-guts tartar stew inside. Cooler!
Poor little guy of Sweetie's, he was still breathing a little, still
alive somehow, so I put another round between his eyes so he wouldn't
suffer, and much to my surprise got some brain-splatter back as his skull
exploded at my feet, evidently his skull creating enough resistance to
where the bullet prematurely exploded and mushroomed before penetrating
through. Oh, well.
Don't get me wrong. I do enjoy hunting, enjoy the skill required for
long-range kills, but this was a matter of necessity. Groundhogs create
burrows all over the place, all over Sweety's pastures, and the cattle then
step in the gopher holes and break legs and such and have to be put to
sleep, creating real economic hardships for the folks that lease his land.
Our having some fun by long-range target shooting them helps keep their
population in check and helps prevent livestock injuries and deaths too, so
it's a win-win.
Yeah, I love varmint hunting, love working on engines and yeah can
change my own friggin' oil thank you and do my own tune-ups too, love
Carolina Packers football and actually know what illegal contact within
five yards is, can drink beer with the best of them including Dear but
seldom do, can clean my own fish when we go trout fishing up in the
mountains and happen to actually accidentally catch a couple of them. As
my love says, I am the perfect man's woman, whatever he means by that.
"It's almost light, we need to get a move on" he urged as we
re-holstered our pistols.
At the main groundhog colony near the big pond where all the cattle came
to drink and sometimes bathe there weren't any little heads popping up or
furry little bodies scurrying around as we took our positions inside our
small blind made from cammo netting and natural materials up just below the
main ridgeline overlooking the kay-zee.
"Damn, those loud reports must have scarred them off."
"They weren't much louder than the old .22-250's we used to use, let's
just bide our time, they'll come out."
"Wanna give me a blow job while we wait?"
"Maybe, as long as you'll pay attention and let me know when they start
His cock tasted of piss, again. Guy or no guy, he could have at least
taken a shower last night like I always seemingly fuss at him about doing.
I'll do anything for him, but he could at least give me the respect of
washing his nasty dick off before asking me to suck it. I shrugged and
sucked away anyway.
"Uhhmmmm, baby, baby, baby."
"Pay fucking attention Daniel Boone Junior and let me know when they
start coming out."
"God baby, you're so good, suck it, suck it!" his hand groping my tits
as I think he continued to scan the beautiful vale below us for signs of
live furry targets.
"God, Jeannie, I've got to have you, now, fuck the hogs" he pulling me
up to his face and kissing me deeply, my hands now over him his over me,
zippers zipping zipping down.
"I'm on my period."
"Yeah, I know, so?"
"So, I'm real heavy this month."
"So? We're both used to blood. Out of that coverall now, b*tch!"
God, I do love it when he takes control like that even though I'd never
tell him so. His hand began rubbing padded panties hard, rubbing and
rubbing the crotch fabric with my Always Maxi underneath it, inside of it,
as he sucked on my nipples and rubbed my maxied panties even more
"My pad's having a lovely time, it thanks you for getting it off, it had
a nice orgasm, but now can I have some of that attention too?" his face
puzzled for a moment before getting the joke and grinning as a whole bunch
of little curious heads popped up from various burrow entrances about
one-twenty yards down the slope in front of us as we garnered an audience
to watch us, ten then twelve then almost twenty live targets just watching
us a little before their appointments to be wasted.
Neither of said a word as half-naked to-naked we grabbed our pistols,
rolled off each other and quickly took shots at the first hog that came
into our sights, me blowing my critter away but Sweety missing his as some
scattered and some dove back into the burrow and some just stood there
frozen volunteering to be firing squaded. You'd have thought after being
hunting almost weekly they would have learned but there was always
seemingly a few stupid ones left for next week that needed to be culled out
of the evolutionary tree. We reloaded and shot at will for a full five
minutes, me naked except for bra and panties in the warming morning chill
inside our blind, my flow seemingly gopping heavier in my panties the more
excited I got the more I shot and hit three then four then eight then nine
groundhogs, a new single morning kill record for me, all but one being
single-shot drops over a hundred yards downrange and a couple over two
hundred yards and this with a handgun mind you if it was T-C Contender with
a ten-inch barrel, all the while slightly freezing in my underwear only and
with my period in full flow. Shoot, if I could snag ten kills on a single
Saturday morning with this new .17 HMR caliber round while naked and on my
period, then, well, let's say the assholes on I-40 going into Research
Triangle Park in Monday morning commuting traffic had better watch out!
"Damn good shooting, Dear, I've never seen you shoot that good before"
he relaxing back in the blind as the last of the non-stupid groundhogs
finished going back into their massive burrow complex, pouring me a cup of
coffee from the stainless Thermos he always considerately brings along with
sandwiches and snacks too.
"Yeah, ten kills, nine one shot ones, the best I've ever done, I just
love this new round" my uterus cramping a tad from all my excitement of the
moment of having sent a couple of furry families to groundhog heaven.
I fished a new pad from my gear bag as I made a show of changing it
front of him, dropping my drawers to my knees and peeling and rolling up
the old one tossing it back in my Cabelo's hunting gear bag and pressing
the new one on inside my slightly stained underwear, his eyes big and his
mouth almost drooling with anticipation.
'Damn, Dear, you know how much I love you?" he grabbing me and pulling
me to his lap, his hand forced past my panties and pad and into my bleeding
"You just wanna get laid, Mister, is all" I teased back.
"Yeah, and what if I do?"
"Then I think Dan'll Jr.'ll get laid if he wants to fuck through some of
"Like a master hunter minds a little blood" he no longer kissing me but
forcing me to all fours before him.
"Or a missus master hunter minds being fucked through her sacrifice" his
cock hard being rammed as hard inside me perfectly with all the velocity of
our new point seventeen caliber Hornaday horny round, driving his
bullet-cock home to my insides, liquefying my uterus and guts into a
dripping goo, my love for him the red of my loveblood and the clear of my
G-spot mixing and dripping and flooding all over him and his cock, the
hunter now the hunted, the hunted now caught, willingly, hopefully,
|hunting, light ds, m&f, menstrual sex, romantic|
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