I’ve just gotten home from a hot date with my bull, and you can probably tell from how glowing I am that I came more times than I can count. I know you’re desperate to cum too after waiting around for me to come home and tell you everything. I’ll give you every detail, but you’re not getting off. No, my dates are for my pleasure and my bull’s pleasure, not yours. You get to sit there and get hotter and more frustrated while I paint a verbal picture of my sex life—how he played with my pussy, how he fucked me, what his cock feels like—but you still won’t cum the way I did. You’re not cumming at all.