FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

In the strawberry fields outside Westir the mares all carried baskets. Spread across the acres with their heads bent for scanning they would bend and pluck whatever could add weight to their loads and provide food for later. The sun was high in the sky. The baked Earth's grasses were speckled by wild fruits that would catch the eye with colors of red, blue, and black. Necks and scalps grew warm in the rays, manes sleek with perspiration, the ankles blackened and raw from the stalks that would jab and crackle at their feet. A song would be at one mare's throat. The promise of a fine meal and time to snack kept her determined on the field just in front of her. Fingers painted by juices elicited hungry rumbles but none of them cheated, not even for a single strawberry no matter how plump. Miropo would reward the mare who collected the most. He would reward them all, of course, but her most handsomely.

The stud took part in the gathering, if only passively. Duty kept his head upturned for most of the mission. Weathered eyes made number of all his flock, their colorful details not escaping his identification even in the squinting light. Atop the field's highest point he stood tutelary and firm, a broad body swollen by muscle and burdened by virility imperfect for stooping all the time. His march across the hill was tepid. He stopped to pluck a berry only occasionally. The mares about him required constant diligence. The plains for their infinite charity and blessings were just as kind to those who would reap Miropo and his women for a meal.

It was Marissa who climbed the hill he was on to have a word. The shortest, plumpest legs marched her up the unkind slope, each footfall rattling the soft flesh of her chestnut-colored thighs. A half-filled wicker basket tied by her own hand was clutched to her hip next to a leather loincloth which failed to cover much beyond the V her chalice created. The greater burden lie in her mammoth chest, her fist-sized charcoal nipples facing in opposite directions with how opulently they hung and bounced with her. “Miropo, darling," she huffed upon reaching the hill's crest.

Miropo greeted her genially without tearing his gaze from the herd. “Marissa. Come with a full basket, I hope."

She pulled the basket in front of her stomach. “No, I fear not. The mares and I have scoured this acre through and through. Plucked about every berry Mother has to offer us here."

His eyes cut towards her through the slits in his gray visage. A smile tilted his trimmed, black beard. “And what you suggest we do? Head home with what we have?"

The poofy blonde mane atop Marissa's head danced when she shook her head. “No sir, not yet at least. Only that perhaps we break the herd across more fields to find food elsewhere."

He turned his head to face her completely, crinkling the skin of his neck where the hair faded into his buzzed scalp. “Break the herd? And leave my sweet, innocent mares to their own devices where I can't protect them?"

A scoff and rolling eyes. “Miropo, please. You know as well as I do that these ladies can protect themselves as well as you can. Any threat comes, they'll know how to handle it."

“But not all threats are equal. Any creature is safer in number, you know that."

“I do, which is why I suggest sending us off in pairs or threes or so."

“Well, alright. And how should I divvy these pairs or threes or so's?

Marissa pretended to think about it. “Perhaps let them pick themselves. I'm here already. Perhaps you and I can pair up and go off."

A hearty chuckle from the stallion. The braces of muscle which upheld his colossal pecs bounced. Crossing his arms was like grinding stone on stone, the topography of his trunk able to stop arrows. “And what would you and I accomplish on our own? I'm no forager. Hardly covered the floor of my basket."

He wasn't stupid, and Marissa knew that. She smiled. “I think the two of us could accomplish a lot if we tried. I'm not the best forager either. No chance of me earning your most gratitude with a hefty basket. Perhaps I can earn it otherwise with your guidance." She cradled her basket in two hands and lifted it towards her bosom. The rim pressed into the underslopes of her tits and their ample cleavage, her greatest fruit.

A stir in the stallion's loins, his further duties as a stud suddenly pertinent. “Aye, I think I can do that." He called upon the herd with a great bellow through cupped hands, a roaring baritone that flew across the field for many leagues before thinning into silence. Every woman stopped what they were doing and marched to the hill to hear what he had to say. He told them the new plan and said to rendezvous at this hill after exactly one hour. “Pick your own pairs," he said. “I'll travel with Marissa north." It didn't take a genius to put together what he and the pony had planned together.

The herd dispersed in about a dozen pairs while Miropo and Marissa descended the opposite slope north. “Good that you said north," said Marissa with a cheeky smile once the others were out of earshot. “I know the perfect place for 'foraging' that way."

Miropo grinned back. “Aye, I already know all about it. You think you're the first to ask me to go foraging alone with?"

Marissa chuckled, slightly embarrassed. “No, I shouldn't have thought."

The couple walked in pace for a few leagues, well beyond the strawberry fields and where the upper leaves of a crooked oak crept into view over the crest of another hill. Upon seeing it Marissa brought herself closer to him, her horse tail beating against the flank of his thigh every other step. Without taking his eyes off the tree, he transferred his basket to the opposite arm so that he could grab a nice fistful of her haunch and hold it the rest of the way. Marissa's tail cocked into the air and her teeth sank into a conniving smirk. A certain smell, one Miropo had gained hints of back on the hill, rose in intensity.

The oak was old and tall. A trunk big enough to fit three Miropos inside blossomed into an ornery crown of dense, wiry branches. It was the only tree for as far as the eye could see, the only shade but for the rogue cumuli that would drift the sky and blot the grasses. On a hot day like this, it was a blissful respite where two lovers could relax and connect at their leisure. Such plans pervaded their arrival, and when they reached the tree Marissa put down her basket, walked up to the trunk, then leaned back against it in her most provocative pose.

Miropo admired the view and chuckled. “Why, Marissa, if I didn't know any better, I'd think that it wasn't foraging you had planned way out here."

Some laughter hummed through her throat. “No, not quite." She turned around and faced the tree, that titanic rear end aiming back at him in all its explosive rotundity. Her blonde horse tail fell to the side, exposing the deep divide where Miropo could see her feminism. It was parted softly, those chunky cunt lips opening and closing involuntarily per the heat of her arousal that sighed all the way out to him. She peered over her shoulder, arms already bracing the trunk for the ramfucking she was about to receive. Sleepy eyes regarded him saucily. “But I do have something for you to help with, if you'd be so kind~" A lazy wag of her ass brought each gelatinous buttock crashing into the other and sent waves through her blubber.

A pressure in Miropo's sheathe had started growing since the first hint of her heat. It intensified, breaching his slot and prodding the leather of his loincloth. “Hmm, let's see what I can do." His cloth was done away with by a casual tug of the string. It fluttered to the Earth, leaving bare his cantankerous pair of crotch fruit which hung in their smooth, black skin purse. From his sheathe crowned the head of his pecker, a great disk of haughty horse flesh that peeked at Marissa with its singular pizzle hole. Miropo strutted up to her. Before touching anything else he pulled the string on her cloth and let it flop onto the oak's bulging roots. The two lovers were together in the mighty plant's shade as well as in nudity, their glowing sexes pulsing within reach.

Miropo helped himself to a double-handed grab of Marissa's ass. His fingers sank deeply into her dough and pulled them apart for a better look at her two holes. Her slavering cunt lips parted in greeting and let fall a thread of her fluid before closing shyly and then opening again. A satisfied murr rumbled in Miropo's chest. His nostrils flared and the growth of his pillar accelerated. One thumb prodded her quim with a nasty skwish, swaddling itself to the root in searing hot woman flesh.

Marissa gasped and shuddered. She swooned her head back and crinkled the skin of her neck. “Ahhhhh~" A steady vibration jiggled her whole body. “Mmmm, I'm going to need a lot more than that."

A cheeky grin pulled the corner of his mouth as he began prodding the tip of his thumb along her trench. The lips gaped and squelched around it. Out gushed a wad of her ichor which slapped onto the oak root with a nice splat. “Why's that? You seem to be enjoying it well enough." He found her girl spot with a practiced thrust, ordering another round of gasps and shivers.

“Huhhhhhh~!" Her grip on the trunk tightened. That sauciness in her gaze withered into desperation once those blissful shivers made her nipples go hard. “Yes~ It is… Mmmm… But I'd love your cock a whole lot more. Ohh~"

“Mmm, and I'd sure love giving it, but considering how you tore me from my duties as herd protector I'm hesitant to provide it." He said this with a playful smile and a cock already halfway out its cavern, that pink-mottled shaft of vascular graphite beginning to sag under its colossal weight between them.

Another curt jab against that sweetest of spots caught the air in her lungs. Her mouth shot open, but noise took a moment to escape. “Huhhhhhhhhhh-uhhhhhhhhh~ Miropo, please… Ohhhhh…"

He did her the mercy of removing his thumb. Covered in her glaze, he used it to pry one lip apart for one last look at her inner pink. Satisfied, he patted her rump with the other hand. “Alright. Help me the rest of the way and we'll start."

She thought he'd never ask. Without another word she shoved her ass back on him. Whumpf. His growing pecker was hung downward when it fell into her crack by the topside. Miropo had to back up and hoist it over and flop it down over her mounds for a more proper position. From there Marissa went to work, angrily grinding her haunches along the length of his pole for every inch that it grew out of him. Miropo licked his lips at the sight of all that ass rolling, bucking, and mushing up on him to roll around his hardening member.

He was where he needed to be soon enough, all of that burdensome breeding tool standing proudly along the length of her canyon. A hearty throb of his cock muscle signaled that he was hard, and Marissa slowed her roll to just hotdogging herself on that bountiful rod. She whined, “Mmmmm, put that big fucking cock inside me, please. I can hardly stand it anymore."

Hearing her beg had him feeling the same way. “Alright, my little pest. Here it comes."

Marissa smiled. “Yay~"

Miropo stopped her with a firm hand on her hip. The other grabbed his cock by the root and held it steady while he pulled his hips back and made aim unto her quim. Just a small push and he was prodding her door, the sensitive woman flesh sinking in front of him with an audible squish. Electricity ran through them both. Marissa met his prodding with another backwards shove, this one enough to make her cunt lips gape and then swallow the cock helmet. Her head swooned upwards, the mouth hung open in an erotic O. “Ohhhh~"

Such unforgiving tightness squeezed and milked Miropo enough to make his jaw clench. She drew another throb out of him, this one letting forth a tear of precum which melded into her molten sweetness. The neck of his cock head was sunken around her pussy lips, those which were stretched thin around his Draconian girth. He had the power to split her in half right then and there as the burning in his loins demanded of him, but he was not a savage. After readjusting his grip to the upper slope of her ass, he made a slow plunge into her cavity.

The splotches of rose which mottled his graphite pole disappeared one by one inside of her. Along the way Marissa gasped, moaned, and whimpered. A steady vibration jiggled the blubber of her ass and thighs, intensifying with every blissful inch which stretched her something incredible. At last she had him to the hilt, his war hammer kissing the entrance to her womb and blessing it with the thickish progenitor to his seed. He stayed there for a moment, feeling that grip of hers like a buzz of delight which traveled to his hamstrings and twitched them to the surface of his stony thighs.

Marissa was enjoying herself. “Ohhh! Ohhh! Ohhhhhhh… Yes… Miropo… Mmmmmmmmm~" Even with all that cock buried inside her she continued pressing back on him so that her ass flattened against his pelvis. That furry horse tail tickled his gut as it vibrated like the rest of her.

Miropo helped himself to a chunk of soft ass in both hands. He parted those giant hemispheres and let them crash back together with an entertaining jiggle. “Mmmmmmmm, yes, that's fantastic. Much better than foraging out in the hot sun, I'll say."

Marissa let out a laugh-moan. “Hahahahahhhhhhh~ I knew… Mmm… You'd like it. Huhhhh… Ohhh… Yes~"

His nostrils flared again, and his jaw clenched. “Yes, and I'm about to enjoy it a lot more." His hands maneuvered to her midriff and held on tight. He withdrew his cock from her slot up to the head before drilling home a deep, body-shoving thrust. Flesh squelched against flesh. A great wave rippled along the curvature of her ass and down the thighs. Her head whipped out the most dramatic one yet, soon to be outdone. One, two, three more heaves and Miropo was at the proper cadence, his whole body rocking backwards and then slamming home to fuck Marissa stupid.

Schlap! Schlap! Schlap! Schlap! Schlap! Schlap!

A pair of wrecking balls swung between his legs and crashed into Marissa's groin, just another shockwave that rolled through her body among the great symphony of forces which threatened to blow her back out. Miropo's arms were at work in sync with his glutes. Marissa was pulled into each impact and then pushed for a reload. All that big, bountiful woman was manipulated with ease. In his coital expertise Miropo could coordinate every muscle necessary to deliver hard and rolling thrusts, though his teeth remained gritted from the raw pleasure glowing within Marissa's greedy walls.

Marissa needed no such coordination, nor could she muster any with that huge cock fucking her senseless. “HUHHH! YES! OH FUCK! MIROPO! HUHHHHHH~!" Her squeals were half-constrained by the oak. The side of her face was pressed against it, rubbing against the bark with each pound from behind. Her fingers clawed and scraped at it. Her tits swung below her chest, coming close to slapping the tree with how far they would fling forward. All of that length was being drilled into her; she would move some distance every time Miropo would thrust. She hardly minded the tree, or the basket of berries she'd left abandoned, or the golden prairie which had turned audience to her wailing pleasure.

A grunting, grimacing Miropo leaned over her and tightened the grip on her trunk. His thrusts shortened into a back breaking jackhammer. Plap-plap-plap-plap-plap-plap! His glutes crunched away, dimpling the flesh of his haunches. Clots of Marissa's pussy cream congealed around the base of his pole and flew off his balls every time they would crash into her. The poor oak roots beneath them were dotted in wet spots, a constellation that grew with each thrust. An even greater calamity awaited it once Miropo's mien started to crunch into a scowl. “Hahhhh… I'm close. Mmmmm… About to cum! Hahhhhh~!"

Hearing him grunt those words a few inches behind her head was the catalyst to her own impending orgasm. Marissa spoke as clearly as she could, her croaking pleas carrying far across the fields. “Yes. Yes. Miropo. Hnnnnnnn… Cum inside me. Please. Huhhhh! Fucking cum in me. Huhhhhhh! Give it to me! Huhhhh! HUHHHHHHH~!"

Miropo's voice trembled alongside her and finally escalated into a roar once he came. The last thrust pasted itself to her ass as deeply as it would go. The epicenter of his erupting seed was planted on her womb, flooded in just the first rope which shot forth upon an epic throb of the cock muscle. His giant balls, heavy burdens that they were, lifted in their purse, insisting everything they had and crinkling the skin into their ovoid shapes. What couldn't be contained by her violently spasming velvet squirted from around Miropo's cock with sinister hisses and gurgles, the coppery smell of steaming love blossoming with it.

Marissa's wailing trembled with the rush of his molten heat. Bubbling and gurgling past her every sweetspot, it elevated her ecstasy into a fizzing euphoria that twitched and spasmed down her legs. “Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, yesssss~" She felt his pulses to the last drop, the two lovers left in a nice stupor while Miropo panted and sweated hard. Marissa purred. “Mmmmmm, thank you very much. Hahhhh~ That's the kind of foraging I enjoy."

Miropo was catching his breath amidst a pall of sweat which joined the aura of sex which pervaded them. “Whoooooo, I would have to agree." He gave her right buttock a nice swat. “Did you cum?"

Marissa chewed her lip. “Mmm, no, I didn't, terrific as that was."

Miropo frowned. It wasn't often his mares couldn't orgasm on his cock alone, but it did happen from time to time. “Well, that won't do at all." He grabbed his pecker by the root and made a slow retreat from her cunt. The lips bulged around his flare when the passed then let loose an ungodly torrent of his cum. Pllbblbbbthhh. Miropo with his loosening pecker fell into a squat behind her with his face in line with her giant ass. The smell of his cum hit him in the face like a fist, dilating his nostrils for as long as he would be there. Far from repulsed, he viewed his seed drooling out of her with a deep sense of pride before he opened his mouth, extended his tongue, then dove muzzle first into her battered sex pot.

A jolt ripped up Marissa's spine. “Ohh! Ohhhhh~ Yes, please. Mmmmmmm~"

Miropo cupped his lips to the shape of Marissa's slit and suckled away. Mch-mch-mch-mch-mch-mch. Globs of his own nectar came piling out and wriggled down his throat. There was that musky flavor of copper that belonged to him alongside a sweeter, fleshier taste of Marissa's. He savored them both until there was nothing but the latter left, all of his cum either back inside him or glazed on the oak root between the two.

The job wasn't finished. His tongue drove down the height of her trench and found that spongey clot of nerves that made her girl spot. A flick and prod of the tongue was enough to make her gasp and squeal. Worse was his middle and ring fingers coming up in front of his chin to lay siege upon her clit. While his tongue whipped and his fingers twiddled he continued suckling at her hard enough that his cheeks imploded. Schlllrp. Schlllrrk. Schlllllllp. Sccchlllllluck.

Marissa was back to gripping the oak trunk for dear life. “Huhhh! Huhhh! Huhhh! Huhhh!" She tried crying his name only to say something like. “Mir-uhhh! Mir-ohhh!" Her ass jiggled something fierce, tickling the topside of his snout which he kept buried. A supernova was building in her nethers, and in short order it went off. “HEEU- UUUUUGGGGGHHHHHHHH~~~!!!" Her convulsions hit a spike with her orgasm. Jittering thighs and quaking buttocks crashed about Miropo's face as a monument to his success, and even then he continued to caress and suckle her sweet bits. Only when she was done cumming her brains out did he pry himself from her cunt, there drooling a long curtain of spit and pussy slime from his chin. Marissa slumped up against the tree, her heat quelled and then some. Her whimpers were pathetic.

Miropo stayed in his squat to watch as her hind end and its two cavities shake and sway through the aftershock. He wiped his mouth and chin clean with the back of his wrist but could not hope to erase the taste of sex in his throat, not that he wished to. “Well, I say about everything we can forage around here has been plucked, hasn't it?" His penis was halfway back into its sheath as it hovered just an inch over the ground with his balls.

Marissa was still trying to catch her breath and stand upright against the oak. She turned around and leaned back before starting to laugh. “Hahhhhh… Aye, I'd say so. Mmmmm… Thank you."

Miropo picked up their loin cloths from the ground and handed Marissa hers. “The pleasure is mine, though next time I expect you to do some real foraging for the sake of the herd. I'll give you two baskets to make up for this time."

Marissa's smile folded into a pout. She snatched her cloth from him. “Hmph. Fine."

He smiled at her. “Lighten up. We still have the rest of the hour left before we're expected. Let's enjoy the shade, shall we?"

So they sat together at the oak's base, enjoying the cool of the shade and the heat of their bodies while the aftermath of their love making dried beneath them. They flirted in blissful ignorance of the third party who had seen their approach to the oak, their bombastic coitus, and most importantly, Miropo's physical gifts and expertise. Having stalked him from the foraging party, she smiled from behind the shrub where she hid. “Perfect~"

***

The group returned to Westir with a healthy stock of food, albeit lacking within Marissa's basket for whatever reason. A count was had to see who had gathered the most, and the winner was rewarded most kindly within the comforts of Miropo's tent. He and the winner slept together that night, and when morning came he left to go foraging again, albeit on his lonesome this time.

Roaming the strawberry fields in the great wide open was a relatively safe task with the luxury of an open horizon for looking out into in case of hazards. The bordering forest, however, proved a different hazard entirely. Unkind creatures who hide, climb, and pounce amongst the trees made dangerous goings for even the most well-watched of herds. A stallion can't keep an eye on his mares so long as there are a million trees to cover them all and provide cover for stalking. Arguably worse than the threat of predators was a terrain not suited for horse hooves. On the wavy grasslands a horse could trot safely for miles as Miropo and the herd liked to do. Among scratchy thickets, uneven ground, and trip-happy tree roots, even the sturdiest of hooves would buckle in short time.

Thus Miropo made the trip there entirely by himself. It was dangerous, but wholly necessary for medicinal fungi and herbs never found in the grass. On rotted tree trunks and in the cracks of split boulders were the ingredients to a poultice for keeping everyone healthy. Miropo's mares were a hard and sturdy bunch, a fact he was most proud of, but that wouldn't have been the case if not for his medicine woman who demanded the hardest to find ingredients in the hardest to traverse places.

In and out. That's what the chief repeated to himself while marching at a brisk pace among the scraggly trees and their unforgiving shrub. He did not dilly nor take precious care to harvest ingredients intact. When he saw them, he plucked them and dropped him in his basket. It was the medicine woman's job to determine which were right and which were poison. By the time he scraped the first log of its fungi he'd already accumulated a sweat and some scratches about his ankles from the briars. He would not let the pain nor the tickle of blood distract him. He filled his basket quickly and then left. Miropo was brave, but he wasn't stupid.

By the end he walked on battered feet all covered in sweat, mud, and scrapes, but his basket was full and the wellbeing of the herd was further assured. He carried the basket at his side, praying that it was mostly correct ingredients and that he wouldn't get nagged too hard by his medicine woman. But before he would return to the settlement, he made his way to a special spot on the forest edge, a place he'd discovered some years ago and visited every time he came to these dreadful parts.

Hidden in the recess of a small cliff was a limestone grotto where a large pool was hidden. The entrance was behind a quarry of large and medium sized boulders Miropo had to traverse carefully. The cave mouth was small, barely taller than Miropo with the cliff's mangled tree roots hanging from its precipice and tickling the chief's scalp as he ducked into its moist confines. The sigh of forest air grew dull, replaced by the Earth's thrum. He could hear Mother Nature's murmur in the dark where the rocks were slippery and his steps were careful. Further from the light there were echoes of gurgling water. He pressed his hand against the ceiling to keep his head from lifting into it, a mishap he'd performed a few times during his first few visits. In his experience he knew a rightwards bend was coming. There the sun would thin into nothing and he would have but his wits to navigate with.

The darkness consumed all, but not for long. Along the cave's curving tunnel a more mysterious light materialized. The cave blossomed into a grotto in which Miropo could stand freely. A beam of light daggered from the ceiling, a single hole drilled through by an untold many centuries of erosion. It fell into a pool of crystalline water into which a thin waterfall was pouring from the yonder wall. The light refracted off its ripples into a million shards which danced on the walls and sparkled Miropo's eyes. A small river was born from it. It carved its way into another smaller tunnel Miropo could not see into, leading somewhere even deeper underground. Vines wormed their way from cracks in the ceiling. The limestone floor that surrounded the pool grew a thin, mossy grass which survived off those brilliant fractals, life's abundance having found necessity in even the dimmest crevice. Miropo remembered his first time coming here. He had thought found a portal to the afterlife.

Not quite, but he did find a good place to relax after busting his ass in the forest for so long. His feet were on fire and his many thorn cuts stung. He'd earned himself a dip. The basket was slung off his shoulder and laid against a rock. Just a few more careful steps brought him to the pool's edge where he dipped a toe into the blissful coolness. A ripple bloomed from it and zoomed through the surface, mixing with what dispersed from the waterfall. Against his many cuts and battered soles it was the perfect balm. He let out a crisp sigh then wandered in deeper.

Water sloshed around his legs and belly loudly. He squatted at the very middle where it was deepest and made a quick dunk of his head. He resurfaced with a quiet gasp, the water pouring off his grizzled visage. The dirt and crusted blood melted away, but it was going to need a lot of scrubbing. He went to work ridding himself of the grime and filth, all of it drifting through the pristine wash before drifting away into the river's relentless current.

Clean and feeling much better, the nude Miropo leaned backwards and floated to a section of the pool's edge where it was steep enough for him to sit against. Eyes closed, his ears closed themselves off to the splashing waterfall. A great sigh blew through his nose, warping the water in front of it. Some peace and quiet at last. He wished he could lay there forever.

Then, a break in the peace. From the entrance tunnel there was a crack of gravel, coming footsteps. Miropo's eyes shot open. The water exploded off him when he shot upright. Beyond the light column's glow he could not see the tunnel, but he could clearly hear someone, perhaps something, getting closer. No doubt they knew he was in here. His legs started bending to get his feet beneath him in case he had to stand and fight; in here there would be no running.

Nor would there have to be, for who stepped from the blackness and into the grotto was a tall, beautiful mare. Her miraculously bright white coat had turned opaque well before she even came close to the light, an otherworldly glow like what bloomed from the cave pool pervading her like a halo. The fur feathered around her wrists and ankles to an immaculate slope accentuating dainty hands seemingly bereft of blemish or callous. A blindingly fantastic mane, one perhaps even whiter than the coat that covered her body, fell into a curtain down her beautiful face between the iciest eyes Miropo had ever seen. Curvy from top to bottom, her hourglass figure was covered only across the breasts and hips by thin cloths even more performative than the loincloth Miropo usually wore.

“Why, hello there," purred the sultry intruder.

Miropo realized he was still in that awkward position, ready to rocket to his feet should a threat come. Instead there was this pillar of beauty smiling down at him with half fluttered eyes full of the intent to join him in the pool and in nudity. Miropo cleared his throat, a sound which sounded explosive within the confines of the grotto, then he relaxed by sitting back against the pool wall. “Hello," he said. “I wasn't expecting company here, of all places."

“Nor I," she said. “Thought I was the only one who knew of this place. A good place to bathe and relax, isn't it?"

Miropo thought about the many small cuts that had dashed his skin. Looking at this woman quelled the pain into a sweet nothing that bordered on pleasure. Further measure of her soothing presence was the stir in his sheathe already on its way to an erection. “Aye, it is. Came here foraging and worked up a sweat." There was a peculiar lack of dirt and scuffs across her coat, not even a single bit of fur or mane out of place. Who on Earth is this woman? “My name's Miropo. I'm the chief of the Westir herd. You are?"

“Irisa," she said with a small curtsy. “From nowhere in particular. Westir, you say? I might've heard of you. How many stallions do you share this flock with?"

Miropo failed to see how that was important, at least to a mare. “None. I'm the only one."

That seemed to satisfy Irisa whose cheeks dimpled with a tiny smile. “Then you've got quite the load on your hands." She sauntered up to the pool's edge and dipped a single toe in with such dainty grace that the water did not visibly ripple around it. “It wouldn't bother you if I joined you, would it? I've come a very long way to soothe my bones as I'm certain you have." She stirred the water with her toe. The waves arced across the surface and bounced off the great island that was Miropo's chest.

Inside his heart was leaping. Miropo nodded dumbly. “Of course. It would be my pleasure."

Irisa purred. Both knew that he would accept. “Mine too." She reached behind her back and untied the cloth which held her breasts. They came plummeting into a tremendous shape that was still round and Jovian without the support. Her nipples, surprisingly dainty for the immensity of her tits, were such a soft shade of rose that they hardly made a difference with the surrounding snow. Her skirt wrap was done with next so that the smooth canvas above her chalice would glow as brightly as the rest of her. After letting the cloth fall to the cave floor she made a slow wade into the water which splashed around her descending legs. Where her body met the water's surface was where Miropo's eyes were, traveling those sleek calves, powerful thighs, wideload hips, and at last her trunk curvature.

He made eye contact only after she squatted at the pool's center, submerging herself to the collar with the underside of her muzzle broken apart by those millions of light ripples. Miropo realized he was staring again. Say something. Say something, you idiot. But nothing came. A hypermasculine stud, master in the art of wooing women into his herd and satisfying them, and his mind had frozen to death in the snowy fields of Irisa's body. Awkwardly, he resumed bathing himself by cupping water into his two hands and splashing his head. He noticed Irisa wasn't looking at him anymore. Her eyes were closed, deep in the relaxing bliss the cool cave water provided. Miropo continued splashing and scrubbing himself, but only robotically. When Irisa made a slow, backwards tread towards the waterfall Miropo's gaze was with her. His bathing was purely thoughtless.

When Irisa reached the waterfall she stood up with it splashing directly onto her head. Miropo followed every bit of drizzle that came down her breasts, the apex of their streams narrowing unto her nipples and squirting off their teats. Miropo imagined puttingone in his mouth, the spare pinched between his thumb and index finger. Irisa would be swooned into a long, womanly crescent with her joyful retorts sighing out of her and pleading for more. His view of her cunt was warped by the water, but it too joined his imagination where it was mapped by his mouth and tongue.

A knot had tied itself in his gut. Am I blushing? He'd never acted this way around a woman in a very long time. Relax. We're both guests here. Nothing will go wrong. He didn't bother to ask himself what it was that could go wrong when he turned away from her and resumed a dutiful cleanse. He splashed his muzzle and rubbed around his face. Yes, he was in fact blushing. His cheeks were steamy against the frigid water. Relax. Relax. What's gotten into you? This is conduct most unbefitting of a chief. She'll think you a liar if you continue to act like this. Breathe. Breeeeeeathe. The chief cooled his face and untied his gut with a few even breaths and some more splashes on the face. Perhaps she isn't real, he theorized to some amusement. He started to turn around. Maybe she's just a part of my-

Irisa turned out to be very real with the position she'd assumed against the pool wall. She was bent completely over it with the entirety of her ass aimed at Miropo. The tail was cocked aside to permit an unadulterated view of her two puffy holes. The obese lips that flanked her cunt hovered less than inch from the water's surface, connected by a thickish column of her arousal which bled from her steadily. Suddenly, her slit opened. In the second before it closed he saw the intricacies of her inner pink, the grisly curtains that made her labia and the cavity that fed into her womb. The soft gray inner canyon was framed by her giant ass and its slight imperfections, the shallowest dimples in the skin just outside her crack and the soft dip in the outer haunch which marked her glute muscles. Miropo was frozen by the immediate retying of his stomach knot and his reinvigorated pulse. No, Irisa was not just a part of his imagination; the way she presented herself and the crisp smell of her heat replacing the cave's moisture asserted as much.

She looked over her shoulder at him with a knowing smirk. “Like what you see, stud?"

Miropo responded at first with an anxious laugh. Well, I've been caught. “Ah, I certainly do. Something tells me you're showing it to me on purpose."

“That's right, and something tells me you're wanting to do something with it." Her eyes flashed downward. Miropo looked down and saw the wavy image of his fully erect penis hovering in front of him beneath the surface. The mottled pink splotches seemed to camouflage amidst the light and created the illusion that his cock was somewhere less than corporeal even as he felt it throb. How did I not notice that? He laughed nervously. “Ahah… Well, I can't exactly do anything about it around a woman like you."

“Oh, there's something you can do about it alright." She stood up and turned around to strut her way over to him. Again, her motion through the water was effortless as if none of it was there. All the inertia of her immense thighs and the water barely murmured around her. She was a spirit, some goddess sent to Miropo from the other to test his mettle for reasons unfathomable. Miropo stood dumbly as she got close and came to a stop only just in front of his fuck stick. She reached into the water for it and grabbed it by the neck, triggering a soft gasp in him. Her grip was ephemeral as well as inescapable. She used it to draw him between her parted thighs where he was dragged along the scorching length of her slit, a sizzling, steaming crack of magma deep within the ocean's abyss. The drag of inner thigh against his cock flare was more gentle, hugging him up until he was poking out under her giant backside. At the same time her teats poked into his chest and she laid her hands on the gargantuan traps that rose from his shoulders. Her face came closer, and Miropo thought she would kiss him. Instead her lips neared his ear to whisper. “I am in the most dreadful heat. It would be a blessed gift if you would fuck me until it is quelled."

The chill that ripped through him from her words, what plunged from the ear and blossomed through his feet, would've made a lesser man faint. Miropo, the strongest chieftain of the land, just smiled at her and wrapped his arms around the small of her back, above the titanic swell of her ass. “And that would be my happiest gift to supply." Then he closed his eyes and kissed her.

The pair closed in on each other with Irisa's breasts flattening against his chest and his penis reaching further out from inside her thighs. A tight clutch from them both meant neither of them would be going anywhere, at least until one of them had cum. The need swelled inside them both. Irisa grinded on the top part of his shaft, her feminine heat diffusing through the water and tickling up Miropo's loins. Their smacking lips joined the sound of sloshing water and dripping moisture. Irisa panted into his mouth when her mouth would open to breathe. Miropo was relentless in chewing her bottom lip and wrestling her tongue with his own. He brought one hand to her chest and pulled one breast out from between them so that he could squeeze it. A chirp came out through Irisa's nose. The way her teat tickled his palm encouraged a deep, groping massage.

Irisa pried her face back with a moan. Miropo went for her neck and gnawed at its exposed softness. “Ohhh… That's so nice," she said. “I want you to have me, all of me. Fill me with your seed and make me cum."

Miropo tore his mouth from her neck and smooched his way up to her ear. “That's what I had planned," he said in a sleazy murmur. He felt cunt shiver in response.

“Mmm, then do it, stud. Show me how well you treat your mares. If you're on your own in that herd like you said you are, you ought not disappoint."

Miropo gulped. Such a challenge was nothing new to him. His mares gave it to him on nigh on a daily basis, so why did his stomach churn when Irisa did the same? “Oh, I intend on showing you everything I can. I think you'll be satisfied." His words were confident, but something much less than sure rattled his tone.

Irisa squeezed her thighs around his cock. “I think so too, but I'm still waiting."

Miropo looked up from her neck and grinned. “Wait no longer." He descended a few inches until his face was level with her bosom, those rosy peaks looking back at him all merry and excited. He hoisted up one breast in his hand and opened his mouth. His lips closed around the teat, and with imploding cheeks and a swirling tongue he suckled her. Mch. Mch. Mch. Mch.

Irisa's head swooned back again. “Huhhhhhh~" She grabbed him by the back of his head, scratching her fingers on the sandpaper texture of his fade. A spasming bliss echoed through both breasts with one teat in Miropo's mouth, the other pinched and flicked at by his spare hand. His cock still throbbed between her legs. Though no longer at the crux of her womanhood, she could still squeeze and grind on it with her thighs. “Ohhh, dear… Yes… Yes, that's what I need. Mmmm…"

Miropo needed it too, to hear the luxurious voice of a mysterious woman crooning for his touch. To feel the leathery jab of her teat against his tongue and that white hot heat radiating near his cock was something he thought he almost didn't deserve. He imagined her as a part of the herd, the crown jewel of his harem as she would be in any other. Such a woman needed proper love and affection, thus Miropo pried himself from her tit and peered up at her.

Irisa licked her lips and looked down to see him smirking from in front of her tit. “What?" she pouted. Miropo said nothing, but began taking sudden, rapid breaths before making a slow plummet deeper into the water. Irisa grinned. “Oh, I see. Quite the adventurer, are we?"

Indeed he was. Miropo took one last deep breath before his mouth sank beneath the surface with the rest of his head. The sounds of the cave were replaced by a muffled grumble. His knees were on the pool floor behind him with his hands on Irisa's hips. In the gentler gravity of the pool he could hover in front of her rudely splayed cunt. Glassy bubbles of oxygen sat in his nostrils and floated from his fur to the surface. The heat of Irisa's feminism on his face and the pulse of his heart in his ears, Miropo opened his mouth to flood it with water and then Irisa's pussy.

She saw the bubbles from his maw pop at the surface before the clamp of his lips on her quim shot a lightning bolt up her spine. “Ooh~! Ohh, yes. You know what you're doing, don't you~?" The hand on his head massaged his scalp. Her mouth was hung open, gasping sharply enough that the swell of her lungs jiggled her breasts which still rang with the joy of his mouth and thumb. Even better was his tongue sweeping along her trench, parting the flaps and nudging her sweetspots. “Huhhhh~! Yes! Oh fuck… Miropo… Mmmmmm, tha'ts… so good."

Miropo heard his name beyond the dull thrumming water. Her scorching velvet was a welcome shelter from the cold cave water. He hid his muzzle from it in her crotch, searing his nose and tongue on her exquisitely feminine flavor. That bitty pearl hidden in her forward notch would tickle the tip of his tongue. When she was properly adjusted to his mouth he began jabbing and flicking at it. The thighs straddling his face spasmed and jiggled wildly, a sign he was doing a good job. Even more indicative were the wails and shouts coming from above the surface and how tightly her hand clenched at his scalp.

“Huhhhhh! Huhhhhh! Ohhhh! Yes! YES! Huhhhhhhhhhhhhhh~!!!" It was lucky for Miropo that his ears were protected from her screams underwater. Irisa's legs were threatening to come out from beneath her with all their bucking and convulsing, but she wouldn't dare collapse or move back into the wall for want of keeping Miropo right where he needed to be. She was on her way to the same place, that core-crunching delight swelling into a climax ready to incapacitate her. “Huhhhh~! Yes! Fuck! Ohhhhh! OHHHHHH~!"

Something moved underwater. Her dopamine-fried brain barely had time to even notice before Miropo had his arms between her thighs. They were pulled apart, and in one swift motion he was hooked around them with his hands cupped to Irisa's ass. A moan was choked back in her throat. Her icy eyes bugged when the world around her went weightless as the mighty Miropo was lifting her out of the water and onto his shoulders in a reverse piggyback ride. A shocked Irisa sat atop the dripping Miropo, holding onto his head for dear life. He had her cradled in his hands by the ass with her chalice in front of his snout. The strain of oxygen had forced him out of the water, but that wasn't going to stop him from the task at hand. Miropo knelt in the water with that goddess atop his shoulders like Atlas, his tongue doing more work than his heroic arms did.

Irisa hadn't a chance to admire his strength before she was wailing again. That expression of shock quickly warped into that of ecstasy. Her head whipped backwards, mouth towards the ceiling, her throat bobbing around a gutteral caterwaul. The way she bucked and rocked in his grasp required some extra concentration to keep her from plummeting into the water, but Miropo stayed firm. She wasn't leaving his grasp, not until he'd finished what he'd started which had risen far above the horizon into a blaring hot noon.

Irisa's voice jabbered on into a new octave, then another, then plummeted when her orgasm hit. It hit hard, the brunt of it squirting into Miropo's jaw as a heavenly fountain which splattered off his chin, down his chest, and into the water where it trickled loudly. Miropo didn't flinch. He absorbed her squirt with an effortless chug, even while his lips continued to suckle her pearl for as long as she was cumming. Irisa was not atop his shoulders anymore, but on a heavenly nimbus, rocketed there by a gentleman's tongue.

Her orgasm tapered away eventually, and a violently trembling Irisa fought to get a hold of herself. “Huhhhh! Huhhh! Oh my… Huhhhh… Fuck… Miropo…" Her hands soothed around his scalp which she had inadvertently clawed at the whole time.

An unbothered Miropo looked up with a smile as warm as the juices on his chin. “That's about how I treat my mares. I haven't disappointed, have I?"

Irisa's heavy breathing broke into laughter which shook her atop him. “No, not at all. That was wonderful~ You have quite the tongue, and quite the lungs too."

“I'm happy to have performed to your standards." Miropo realized he was blushing again. It's got to be the heat of her cunt in front of my face and all this water of hers. Miropo lowered himself back into the water slowly so he could slide Irisa off his shoulders. She came off into the water on her back. The moment Miropo stood back up she was on him again, addicted to his touch. She latched herself to him with her legs around his trunk and her arms clasped around his stony trap muscles. The pair resumed kissing. There was a soft splash when a throb made Miropo's cock bounce to the surface. The aftershock of her orgasm still tugged at her muscles, but the heat was not yet quelled. One more kiss and she pulled away to look at him with sleepy eyes. “Give me your seed, Miropo. Fuck me hard and make me cum again."

The heat of each other's sexes hummed close, but still so far. Miropo was painfully aware of the weight of cum in his balls as Irisa was of the great void in her pussy that demanded filling. An eager and slightly flustered Miropo smiled. “As you wish." He carefully lowered her until her buttocks grazed the topside of his erection. “If you'd be so kind and lift me upwards, dear?" he asked timidly, as if it might burden her.

It certainly wouldn't. She purred, “Of course~" Her hand reached beneath her bum and found his raging pecker. When it was firm in her grasp he lifted her up again, his cock craning upwards with her hand until it aimed skyward at her two vulnerable cavities. “Now bring me down," she said. “Carefully, please."

Miropo's face was hot with excitement. “Yes ma'am." He inched her down onto his pillar until it was brushing the flesh between her haunches. A brief pause allowed her to bring it in line with her quim, and at last their sexes met head on. That gentle impact alone sent a great shiver through them both. Her grip on him tightened, urging him to go lower. That he did, and with a fleshy skwish he gaped her to his flare and ensconced himself.

Irisa's head slumped backwards, her mane spilling and her mouth opening into an erotic O. “Ohhhh~" She let go of his cock and laid her arm back on his shoulder, surrendering all control back to him.

It was difficult for him with that exquisite pussy milking him to death. She only had him to the glans and yet he felt her tightness blowing through his whole shaft and the loins beyond it. Tears of pussy juice tickled down his pole, bobbing about the veins which wormed at the surface of his pink-splotched cock skin. At last he began lowering her further, and more of his masculinity was claimed. His face twitched with each passing inch. “Ah… Huhhhh… Oh, that's good, so good… Mmm…"

Irisa quivered and moaned along with him. “Huhhh! Yes! Mmmmm… Deeper… More… Please… Please…" She begged all the way to his balls where her fat rump sat on them like cushions. Her buttocks clenched into a steady vibration which buzzed herself on his divinely crafted breeding tool, that which she felt throbbing onto the gates of her fertility. Her fingers groped and clawed at his upper back. “Yes! Yes! Oh, that's so wonderful! Hahhhh! Miropo… Huhhh… Fuck me… Please… Oh fuck, I want it so bad. Fuck me. Fuck me…"

Miropo shook through a desperate need of his own, but her pussy grip was quite plainly too much for him. His snout was over her shoulder with teeth sunken into the lip as he struggled. White hot, quivering, down to the root, unforgivingly wet. This was the finest flesh of a woman he'd experienced in a very long time. He recalled the night many moons ago when he'd lost his virginity, the many surprising sensations, the sounds, the emotions. All of that was flooding back here like he'd never mated with a woman before now. How? he wondered. How is she doing this?

He couldn't wonder for too long. A gorgeous woman was begging him to fuck her when he was already balls deep. No turning back from that. Miropo pulled Irisa up his cock by her ass, up to the intermediary ring. His great reservoirs of strength ensured a swooping ascent that put her tail and mane in free fall during the brief second when he reeled his hips backwards. All of it came crashing together, his grip on her ass yanking her downwards at the same time he fired a pelvis-pulverizing hump.

PLAP!

It rattled Irisa to the bone. Her resulting cry of delight was hiccuped by the second thrust which Miropo levied with equal speed and power to the first. The rest came similarly, his every muscle working at full power and in full sync to fuck her like she so badly desired. The big and curvy Irisa moved with ease, those howitzer arms of his grinding, lifting, and pulling away. The triceps would bulge and then flex with thunderous force that rattled the flesh of his upper arm. The fingers sank into the dough of her backside up to the knuckle which kept her cheeks spread far apart. Flashes of her puffy gray donut would appear behind the airy bounce of her horsetail, directly above where her sorely gaped pussy lips were being slamfucked.

PLAP! PLAP! PLAP! PLAP! PLAP! PLAP! PLAP! PLAP! PLAP! PLAP!

Louder, much louder, than those meaty impacts were Irisa's screams. Equal in volume to the pleasure he fucked into her, they were deafening inside the grotto. “HUHHHH! YES! OH FUCK! HUHHHH! HUHHHHH! MIROPO! UHHHHHH! HUHHHHHHHHHH~!!!"

Miropo did not have the water to muffle his ears this time. He had to endure her loving shrieks, something he'd grown used to during his years of pleasing women. The most he could do here was fold his ears back against his head, but he wasn't about to slow down and take it easy. His pleasure screamed just as loudly inside him. It was expressed through his grunts and whimpers which he couldn't hope to choke back, not while she milked him so mercilessly. His orgasm was on the horizon, sooner than he'd hoped, but unavoidable with such flaring passions. “Huhhhh… Irisa… I'm going to cum… Hahhh! I'm cumming!" A hiss squirted through his clenched teeth. “Ffffffffffffh- Should I-? Huhhhh!"

Irisa's head slumped forward and bumped her nose onto his. Their open mouths hung in front of one another, swapping breaths. Irisa fought to get some control over her wailing to answer him. “Huhhhh! No! Inside… Cum inside me! YES! Breed me! Oh God! PLEASE! YES! HUHHHHHH~!!!"

It was all Miropo needed to hear. Not many thrusts later and he was at his bursting point. It was one last Herculean heave of the hips and pull on her ass that slammed his cocktip to the gate of her womb. “HRRRRRNNNGGGGHHHHHHH~~~!!!" Squirshhhh. Squirshhhh. Squirshhh. The sudden lift of his balls shrank the charcoal skin surrounding them. Out spurted a deluge of hot and heavy Miropo seed. In just two spurts it was gushing from Irisa's cunt and onto Miropo's scrotum. Much of it plopped into the water, its milky pearls floating on the surface before melting into ghostly clouds.

Irisa's whole spine was swung into a steep arc by the current of ecstasy blowing through it. Her orgasm struck hard, ignited by the sudden crush of Miropo's love. A shrill caterwaul joined his roaring growl, and the grotto became a cacophony. The droplets of his cum which had plipped into the pool were joined by a heavier, more chaotic waterfall of Irisa's squirt. It spewed around his cock like a waterhose with a thumb in its spout, those crystalline jets of hot Irisa water shooting far off in the distance and onto his trembling muscle gut.

The dripping ended, and so did the peaks they had rocketed onto. Irisa was left impaled on his cock with her head slumped back and her mouth agape like she was dead. Her legs certainly felt that way with a glorious afterglow rendering them twitchy and numb. The both of them breathed hard. Miropo buried his snout into her pillowy cleavage to hide his painfully blushing face. She's made me so weak. I feel ready to collapse into the water. What on Earth is she?

His thoughts were cut off by her weak laughter. “Ohhhh, Miropo, darling~ That was absolutely incredible. I see why you're the only stud in your herd. No other stallion would compare." She wriggled her bum on his cock, sloshing the great reservoir of cum he'd buried inside her. “Mmmmmm, so much~ I love it." She gave his forehead a kiss. “Hmm? Are you still there?" she teased.

He removed himself from her bosom, blinking himself through the dopamine fireworks still firing off in his brain. “Ahhh, just a little. Whew… That's the best I've had in a long time. Hahhh… I feel drained already."

Irisa pouted. “Awww, let's hope not. I've still got this heat burning away down there. I pray you can spare me some more and douse it."

She's still in heat!? But I bred her and made her cum! “Ahh, well we can certainly try, but-"

“Then try we will. If you'd lift me from your cock, please."

“Ah, right. Sorry."

Irisa giggled. “It's alright."

Miropo lifted her from his pole, and in doing so noticed something strange. Like any man, his erection should've started to deflate into a chub. Miropo liked to joke that it was Mother Earth's way of stopping men from fucking themselves to death. Here, however, his erection stayed perfectly intact. He had to lift Irisa up his full length when it should've flopped out of her much sooner. When it finally did it came out perfectly hard, falling forward and bouncing around like a diving board with his and her cum glazed from head to hilt. A sickening belch echoed through the grotto when a massive slug of his cum came plopping out from her cunt, going sploosh when it hit the water. Miropo could tell from the sound that it was a massive load. Appropriate for such a beautiful woman, but I hardly feel drained anymore, or tired for that matter. I feel like I can rut my way through an entire herd. But what he lacked in a herd he had Irisa. He set her down on her feet in the water. His cock was already throbbing out a stream of precum as if it hadn't just erupted.

Without looking down, Irisa stroked his penis with her hand and smiled at him. “Still hard for me and ready to go. I'm glad, because there's much, much more I'd like to get out of you." She gave a sexy tilt to her head. “Think you can indulge me?"

Miropo scoffed. I don't know what the hell's going on, but I'm not going to complain. “I can and then some, my sweet."

Irisa placed a bashful hand over her heart. “You're too kind, now be quiet and fuck me some more, you big, handsome brute."

That Miropo did, first pulling her in for some more gropes and kisses. He was grabbing her ass all the way to the side of the pool where he backed her into. She was lifted onto the mossy cave floor atop a steep dropoff at the pool's edge. Miropo stood between her legs in the water with his breeding tool laid across her splayed cunt and the river of nut that flowed from it. He didn't waste any more time, urged by the vigor in his loins to penetrate her to the balls in one slow but heavy thrust. Irisa's head swooned back with another groan. Her breasts, held apart across her chest by their immense gravity, were pulled together by Miropo's squeezing hands. She set her legs into a V on his chest, the shins and feet hovering beside his head lazily. They were soon bouncing and squirming about when Miropo started fucking her, and once more the grotto was rife with Irisa's love song.

Miropo's muscles clenched, the water around him sloshed, grunts and moans beat through his tightly clenched jaw. Her cunt grip was just as sweet and tight as before, hardly changed even after he pounded it once already. The only difference was the remnants of his previous orgasm which helped lube him into an even more vehement pace here. PLAP! PLAP! PLAP! PLAP! PLAP! His hands were busy about Irisa's body, pinching and groping every part of her that bounced and jiggled. The idiosyncratic orbits her nipples made atop her breasts hypnotized him. That pristine face of hers contorted and wrinkled because he fucked her so good plus the screams of his name had him forgetting where he was or how he got there. Miropo was flying, and this divine mare was his pilot. He came his brains out, and so did she. Another great heave pasted their loins together and flooded her womb. Surely, that had to be the end of him. This load had proven just as voluminous. Miropo was the most masculine of studs, but even he would admit to having a limit.

If he did, Irisa did not recognize it. Nor did his body, apparently, as his pecker came dragging out of her as dense as it had gone in. More of his cum came gurgling out of her and into the water where it bloomed into ghastly slime whisps. “More," demanded Irisa with a sultry purr. “Just one more. I'm still in heat. Fuck me, Miropo."

Miropo, confused and enthralled, obeyed. She was flipped onto her stomach right where she was and fucked from behind. Screams. The crash of flesh on flesh. Sloshing water. An ethereal velvet so sweet that it dragged Miropo to his third ball draining climax. There was the familiar hiss and dribble of her squirt coming down his legs and scrotum. Passions would fade, but not entirely. “Just one more. Come on, you can do it."

So he could. He wasn't surprised anymore, nor did he bother to ask anymore questions. After carving into her womanhood and bloating her womb for the fourth time he came to the conclusion that he'd died and gone to heaven. He had passed while bathing, and this was his angel come to please him for the rest of eternity. He would never grow tired. He would never grow old. His cock would stay hard forever and his cumtanks would remain full. The evidence of such only continued to mount with each orgasm, each gurgling squirt, each supernova of pleasure which would have them both howling and grunting like it was their first time.

Time moved so slowly that Miropo did not notice the grotto's single beacon of light fading into nothing, eventually pitting the cave into pitch. It was hardly a concern for Miropo who by this point had memorized Irisa's body to perfection. He maneuvered her body blindly, hands all over her many curves, lips returning to her mouth and her teats to deliver gentle and sometimes rough kisses. All the while, he did not tire, he did not wane, he did not empty. With Irisa as his lover, eternity would be paradise, even when she begged him. More. More. More.

The hours passed, and light returned to the grotto through that portal in the ceiling. The smell of sex pervaded everything from the entrance tunnel to the cliff above them. It saturated their lungs, not one sense of theirs left unburied by their many hours of sex.

“HRRRRNNGGGUUUUUUUUUUUhhhhhhhhh~~~!!!" Miropo's moan quaked and faltered into something effeminate on its last note. He was behind Irisa, holding onto her with shaky hands while he blasted her womb one last time from behind. She coincided with a violent squirt, her own reserves of water apparently infinite.

Irisa howled along with him until their ecstasies petered out. She slumped forward at the pool's edge, her arms laid out haphazardly in front of her, chest rising with her heavy breaths. “Huhhhh… Huhhhh… Oh my~ Well, I say that about does it."

Miropo's eyes shot open. That didn't sound like the usual 'One more' she usually gave him. “What did you say?"

She lifted her head from the moss and smiled back at him. “I said that will do. I think you've satisfied me. The heat is off me now. Thank you."

It sounded surreal. Hours and hours of breeding, and it ends just like that, without warning. Even stranger was the fatigue Miropo felt in his muscles plus a great vacancy in his balls. Looking down, he backed away from her and withdrew his pecker. It slumped out of her at a chub and was quickly growing softer. His latest orgasm piled out of her along with the remnants of those preceding it. He laid a hand over his beating heart. I guess I'm alive. This isn't paradise after all. Alive, but feeling like he was in heaven. Though only the fatigue of his previous romp griped at his muscles, he could feel the afterglow of each and every climax he'd provided Irisa like they'd been stacked on one another. His inner thigh muscles twitched out of his control, nigh to the point of vibrating. He had to sit down. “You're… welcome." Then he slumped to his butt in the water and turned around to sit back against the pool wall.

Irisa slid back into the water and cuddled up to him. She kissed his cheek and laid her head on his collar. “I have to thank you, Miropo. I doubt there's a single stallion across Mother Earth who could've fucked me so good and for so long. I've never felt more beautiful and loved." Her hand slid underwater onto his belly and rubbed it.

Miropo was still in a daze, fighting through a sea of happy chemicals. When just some of his cognition returned he resumed wondering, How? How was I able to do that? Who is she? What is she? So many questions that he could've simply asked her, but one stood above them all in pertinence. A mare in such a dire heat then bred so thoroughly had to carry a foal by the end. Miropo looked at Irisa. The image of her large with his child sprang to mind. It sparked an emotion that he, as a proud stallion, was not so eager to express. “Irisa, would you join my herd? Be one of my mares?" He disliked how desperate he sounded, but there was no holding back how he felt. The image of he and Irisa together, a young and chipper colt between them, drove him to continue. “I'll take care of you, protect you. Whatever has begun to grow inside you will be a proud addition. I'll raise them every step of the way, turn them into a splendid horse."

Irisa smiled sadly. “Miropo, that sounds wonderful, but I have to decline."

A great sadness fell onto his heart like a sledgehammer, shattering it. His throat clenched as he tried and failed to not look disappointed. “Oh," he said flatly.

The remorse was clear on Irisa's mien as she cradled his beefy jowls with both hands and turned his head to look him straight on. “Please, don't grieve too much. It isn't your fault, but mine. Laws forbid I join any herd down here. I must return to my own."

Miropo wasn't all surprised that she was already in a herd, but the mention of laws threw him for a loop. He frowned, confused. “Laws? What laws does your herd have? I don't mean to pry, but why would you come so far out here into the dangerous woods all on your own in such a heat if you did not plan on finding a new stallion and leaving your herd? What was it you wanted to do?"

Irisa said nothing. Her arms came from around his shoulders while she sat upright and pulled the bangs off her forehead. She was trying to show him something, but nothing was there besides plain white fur. Miropo just got more confused. He was just about to ask what to look for when suddenly a storm of small, pinprick lights materialized from the intermundane and quickly collapsed into Irisa's forehead with a whizz and pshew. There was a great flash. Miropo snapped his eyes shut and flinched away with a deep blue beacon burned into his retina. He opened his eyes and blinked several times to see the light was gone, the shimmering motes falling away and dissipating back into the mysterious other. What had been created was a crystal horn about 14 inches long which stood from the very center of Irisa's forehead. A tight spiral descended from the impossibly sharp tip which aimed with all the pride and majesty of the woman wielding it.

It took Miropo a moment to realize what he was looking at before his eyes went wide. “You're a-?" He couldn't even say it.

Irisa nodded, her horn moving along with her head. “Yes, I am a unicorn." The man in front of her gawked, the legends and myths having turned real before his very eyes. Such was a natural reaction, one she let him process for a minute before she continued. “You see, it's strictly forbidden that I become too involved with mortal affairs." Mortal, as in one who can die, which Irisa couldn't. It was one blow after another to Miropo. “I am only allowed to venture from my herd to find a stallion suitable to breed with, one who could quench my heat. I'm glad I found you, Miropo. You did so more fantastically than I could have possibly dreamed, and I'll be forever grateful to you for that."

Miropo had to gulp in order to speak with how fast his mind was racing. “Ah, I see. Erm…" He cleared his throat, then chuckled uneasily. “It explains the nerves and the stamina. I was fucking a goddess the whole time." Saying out loud made it seem even crazier. He felt like he was going to faint.

“Mmm, not quite a goddess, but close." She laid her head back onto his collar and hugged his shoulders tightly. “So sorry to have misled you in any way. My reasons were selfish, and it led you to catch feelings for me. I feel dreadful."

It was embarrassing how obvious he'd made it that he felt for her. He wouldn't let it gnaw at her. “No, please don't worry." He grabbed her hand and held it tightly. His finger lifted her chin so that they were looking at each other directly again. “I asked you to join our herd because I know that you will be with foal now. You gifted me with the greatest experience of my life so far, and I wanted to repay it in kind and ensure a good life for our child. It brings me solace to know that what you may carry will live its best life wherever you may come from, happier and prouder than it may ever be here on Earth."

Tears welled in Irisa's eyes, glossing over those crystal blue pools and then trailing down her cheeks. A smile quivered on her lips as she kissed him on the mouth. Miropo made sure to kiss her back and latch lips with her for a moment. He was grateful that her eyes were closed so that she wouldn't see the single tear running down his face.

They parted mouths with a sigh, the taste of each other's breath imprinted. “Thank you again, Miropo. I'll forever cherish the time we spent together here."

He smiled, no longer ashamed of the gloss over his eyes. “So will I."

Irisa's gaze fell sullen for a moment before she smiled back. “No, I'm afraid you won't."

Then she pressed a thumb to Miropo's forehead. In an instant his eyes fluttered shut, and he was asleep.

***

Miropo woke up fresh at sunrise atop a cushion of softness he did not expect while foraging. His eyes blinked open to the image of the sky, white cumuli drifting as lazy as he. He sat up with a groan, the vague sounds, images, and feelings of the night's dream floating about his head. A beautiful white mare, the grotto, unicorn, foal. A shame he could hardly remember it. Oh well. It was only a dream.

His thoughts about it were broken up by the realization that he wasn't in the grotto anymore. He was all the way outside surrounded by trees at the edge of a forest. A mild panic set in as he whipped his head and body around. Where am I? I don't ever recall coming here. Then he saw his foraging basket sitting nearby with his loincloth folded neatly right next to it. He scratched his head. “Huh…" he said aloud. “I guess I did."

Miropo got to his feet and performed a big stretch. He noticed a strange coolness that pervaded his groin when a slight breeze rolled past him. Looking down he saw his scrotum and sheath dusted in… something? He had no idea what it was. It was all over his crotch and engrained in his pubes. He pinched some of the substance off his thatch and looked more closely at it. Tiny, sparkling grains were spread between his thumb and index finger. Short of a powder, it was like very fine sand, only it was an amazing assortment of bright colors like he'd seen in rainbows. He gave it a big sniff, then huffed. He recognized the aftermath of a woman's orgasm when he smelled it, but where the hell did it come from? A chuckle bounced his chest. Maybe from that unicorn I dreamed about.

He flicked the grains away from his fingers and was about to fetch his basket when he noticed something beneath his feet. It was the grass which tickled his toes, there was something familiar about it. When he ran one foot across the blades it clicked. Is this silver moon grass? He fell to one knee and plucked a few blades. It is! And so much of it! Not only a delicacy for horses, silver moongrass possessed many health benefits and was a well-sought after ingredient for poultice. Miropo had only encountered the species a handful of times in his life, and here he had woken up in the middle of a giant patch. He hurried to collect all of it, eagerly replacing everything that was already in his basket until it was overflowing. He would make a mental note of where to find this spot. Now I know I won't get nagged at!

Miropo was over the moon with his haul. He tied his loincloth around his waist and made his merry way towards the settlement with his feet kicking, tail swishing, and a gay tune whistling through his lips. Not far behind him, where a rogue cliff's grotto glowed with a single beam of light and where the trickles of moisture echoed, someone was watching Miropo as he trotted his way home.

Bless you and your herd, Miropo, for many generations to come.

THE END