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_What would he be like? _

It was a question that swirled and bubbled in my brain, forever surfacing ever since I'd found out about him. One long agonizing year ago I found out I wasn't alone. My parents had died several years back, and a strange condition had prompted a simple enough question. One most folks would have no problems answering.

"This is hereditary. Tell me, do your father and mother show signs of Atkinson's Syndrome?"

Atkinson's was not a common disease, and not overly debilitating, but there were two types. Two treatments were possible. Simple medication, or surgery to remove a vestigial gland. The only problem was it had to be performed within a year of diagnoses for a positive outcome. Sometimes being equine sucked. If I didn't get treatment I'd have problems digesting food properly the older I got.

The porcine doctor had been quite off handed about it, busy scribbling on hit notepad as he asked, but that nonchalant question had finally raised a specter from the grave I had mostly ignored for the last 15 years or so.

I was adopted. I'd always known, after all its kind of hard to not notice you look nothing like your parents, especially when you're equine and they're canine.

As a kid I had thought about it a lot. What was my birth mother like? What about my father? Do I look anything like them? So many thoughts had come to mind, and then like all things that grab your attention when you're a teen, you forget about them as soon as the next computer game of fad caught your attention. For me it was Sam Hughes, the lupine quarterback. I digress.

Oh I didn't _entirely_forget that I was adopted. Every now and then it would come up in conversation. "Yeah, I know I look nothing like my parents, I'm adopted." Or maybe "Who knows, we could be related!" All kinds of little comments would prick my brain and tease my curiosity for a day or two, but never had I really seriously thought about it.

Then college and studies filled all of my spare time, after that a burgeoning career. I was actually making a lot of progress and about to get a major promotion when I got the call one winter night. A fire, started by a lit candle left burning in a window during the holidays had turned to a conflagration that engulfed my colt-hood home, and in a few hours there was nothing left. No home, no belongings, and more importantly, no loving parents. I'd cried my eyes out, and knelt in the cinders of the ruined home. Just black ash, soot, and the stench of wet burned wood were all that was left. All of my life I had grown up with the most loving of parents, they had adopted me, raised me as their own pup, and gave me everything. Mom and Dad were now dead, the flames so hot only a few charred bones left, not really enough to account for the large urns they were buried in. In one night, absolutely everything was gone.

I really buried myself in my work and ignored my loneliness for a long time. Meetings, travel, a new apartment across town, even a string of lovers all pulled me away from my own reality of pain and suffering.

But as the doctor asked that question, I blinked rapidly, almost confused. A long pause followed where only my breathing could be heard.

He asked the question again. "Do your father and mother show signs of Atkinson's Syndrome?"

I stared at his bald pink head for several seconds, about to answer with "No" since they hadn't, but then it dawned on me. My mother and father weren't my flesh and blood. They were my family, but where did I really come from?

"I-I don't know." I answered truthfully buttoning up my shirt. "I-I'm adopted. I never really thought about it, about health questions." I stepped down from the examining table, my hooves ringing on the hard floor.

"Huh. Well, it's common for people to not know their family medical history, but in your case it would be crucial to know which strain of Atkinson's you suffer from, otherwise we're taking a huge risk with either treatment. Any chance of finding out about your medical history? It can skip a generation at times, but anything you know would help."

"I think so. I know the agency that adopted me out I guess, maybe I could start with them?" I ran my hand through my mane, my curiosity piqued again, all my childhood dreams of finding out that I was related to someone important, maybe famous teasing my wildly reeling brain, not that it was very likely.

"Well, it would save you a lot of pain if we knew for sure and make a huge difference. If you can, try to find out, and we'll meet here in a month for a follow up, otherwise, we'll try the medication for a few years, but we won't know for a while if the treatment helps. It could make things worse."

I had nodded and checked out of the office. On the train ride back home on the other side of town I had made my decision and altered course, heading to the Children's Agency instead of my apartment.

The Children's Agency building was utilitarian and so were the people. It was all very bureaucratic. I was shuffled from window, to office, to table, to meeting room where I finally met caseworker who had handed me a simple file. It contained very little, the draconian protection laws allowing for almost no information to be released to me. It was devoid of anything I desperately needed like last names, social security numbers or anything important. All I knew was the following:

Subject: Foal 165987-1980

Species: Equine Morgan/Quarter

Coat: Paint

Eyes: Brown

Mother: Sandra XXXX

Age: 17

Species: Equine Quarter Horse

Coat: Paint

Eyes: Green

Father: Franklin XXXX

Species: Equine Morgan

Coat: Roan

Eyes: Brown

Age: 35

It wasn't a lot to go on. The receptionist told me I could go through an intermediary who would get access to the full files, search for and contact my parents, and then if my parents they agreed to it, I'd have the information needed to contact them directly. If they didn't agree? My file would be sealed forever. Oh, and it could take several years to track them down since I was now 37 and almost 40 years had passed since my birth.

The blood drained from my skin, and I felt my ears pale. With a calm voice I pleaded my case, explaining the extreme medical need and the receptionist finally decided to check the files again. In the back of the folder in the cabinet she found it, a reference card leading to another file. A new dossier was handed to me, the papers telling the story of someone else. Another foal.

Subject: Foal 786556-1991

Species: Equine Quarter/Walker

Coat: Paint

Eyes: Hazel/Green

Mother: Sandra XXXX

Species: Equine Quarter Horse

Coat: Paint

Eyes: Green

Age: 28

Father: Norman XXXX

Species: Equine Morgan

Coat: Roan

Eyes: Hazel/Green

Age: 32

I had a brother. A younger half-brother, and there in the back of the file was a flimsy piece of notebook paper. The receptionist explained that my brother had visited the agency some years back and had left his contact information for me, having been told he had a brother who'd been adopted out as well. He'd beaten me to the punch and had done all the searches and found his parents, and then left behind a letter for me:

**

Dear Howard,

I guess you're my older brother. They tell me I'm not allowed to contact you, or know anything about you at all except what you saw in your file. I'm leaving this letter with the agency in case you want to reach out to me. I already found our mother several years ago, and I'm sorry to say she's passed on from Atkinson's Syndrome, which I do have by the way, as do you probably. It's type B. It sucks, but it's treatable with medication. If you ever want to meet, feel free to contact me. I hope you do. It would be kind of cool to have an older brother.

Sincerely,

Edgar Harrison Swan

215 Chinshaw Ave Apt 805

Capitol City, 99899

555-9910

**

That evening I had held the thin paper in my paw and stared at it for hours. His handwriting was just like mine, kind of scrabbly and sloping. I couldn't stop looking at the phrasing either, the simple way he put things, a direct approach without a lot of flowery words. It was the kind of letter I would have written. Just looking at that simple note I felt the beginnings of a burning desire to know more. I had to find out more, I just had to.

But what would he be like?

I took a sip of my port and sighed, staring around my apartment. Clean, neat, modern, and very empty. It was just me here. No pictures of family, no knickknacks from my childhood, not even my stuffed bear Mr. Icky. Nothing. The slick gloss of my cell phone screen glimmered in the soft light as I picked it up for probably the hundredth time. Such a simple device, a cold lump of inanimate material in my left paw, and then, in my right, the simple flimsy organic paper with the hand written phone number. Two objects that together could change my life forever.

The port was sticky and richly smooth as it burned its way down my throat, the glass empty as I swallowed the last of the wine, the glass clicking on the table as it settled. My paw ruffled against my cropped mane, the brush-like texture of it tickling my paw. With ponderous deliberation I punched in his numbers and pressed 'send,' lifting the phone to my ear as my heart pounded in my chest.

It rang for a good long while before the line picked up and an out of breath voice answered.

"This better be good, Jim!? Is that you?"

My throat felt parched and scratchy. "Is this Edgar Harrison Swan?"

I could hear a muffled voice laughing and asking questions in the background. My throat felt dry and I felt a sticky panic flood my skin, goosebumps prickling under my fur.

"Yes it is."

It was him! What do I do? What do I say? Fear boiled over inside my heart. What if I say something wrong? What if he hates me? What if he never wants to see me?

"Hello? Who's there? Answer me!" The voice startled me and I spoke.

"Uh, it's me. Howard." My voice sounded small as I shakily answered, my paws trembling with raw nerves.

"Howard? Howard who?" The voice sounded exasperated. I swallowed the huge lump in my throat.

"Howard. I-I'm your brother Howard."

There was dead silence for a few moments, and a muffled voice calling the name Ed, over and over.

"Howard?"

I nodded then cursed myself realizing he wouldn't be able to see my simple gesture. "Yeah. Howard. I got your number from the Children's Agency this afternoon. I have Atkinson's too."

I could hear muttering on the other line and a few sharp words, then a hasty "I'll call you back" followed by silence as the connection went dead.

How much time passed as I sat there, replaying the sound of his voice in my head over and over, I don't know. After a while I got up and quickly drank two more glasses of the port before the shaking in my paws and legs stopped. The ruby liquid gurgled into another glass as I finally calmly poured a third measure when the phone rang. I set the bottle down, grabbed the crystal glass and answered, a much calmer horse, ready to deal with the situation.

"Ed?"

"Yeah. Howard?"

"Yeah. Hi."

We spoke timidly for a few hours. Mostly trading facts and statistics as if we were describing abstract concepts, or perfect strangers to a friend.

"I went to Northern High."

"Strange, I went to Southern. We were rivals."

"I'm 37."

"Really? I'm only 27."

"I work as an accountant."

"I'm in sales."

Facts came, facts went. Slowly the conversation loosened up.

"You know, your voice sounds like mine. Say the word 'orange.'"

"What did you think of that movie with..."

"You like the color blue? So do I!"

"You lost your parents? So did I about three years ago."

Then came the hard part to swallow. After all this time, he told me he was going out of town the next morning on an extended business trip for a year. I had interrupted him his boyfriend when I had called. My stomach felt a little odd at that. I told him I was gay too and we both shared a laugh over it. It turned out our mother told him that both _my_father and his had been closeted, which was why we were put up for adoption and why she never married. It seemed that at least in our case homosexuality was inherited.

"Listen, Howard. Keep in touch ok? Let's keep this up. Keep talking to each other right? I mean my parents are gone as are yours. I guess we're the only family either of us have."

"Yeah Ed, that would be great. Give me call when you get to Paris tomorrow night."

He did too, and it became a nightly ritual for a year. I told him about growing up with canines. He was a little luckier, he got placed with bovines. A nice bull and cow who had both tragically died of cancer. We had a lot in common from favorite bands, to political views and even had gone to not only rival high schools, but colleges as well. But there was one thing we absolutely were adamant about, and something we both insisted on. "No pictures!" We decided in our first conversation we wouldn't even describe ourselves or hint at what we would look like. That way we would have one final thing to share when we met face to face.

Finally, one year and a few weeks later, the day came.

"Nerrel Station, last stop for the red line." The speaker crackled and there were only a few furs left on the train as the electric brakes whined and the rocking of the car slowed down for the stop. He lived out on the edge of the metro on the south side of town, not that I blamed him. It was definitely quieter out here. Looking around outside the station, I stopped into a cab, and gave the directions, my hoof absently and nervously tapping as I rode the short distance to his apartment building. The trees were just budding, the small green shoots visible in the warm afternoon sun, the smell of flowers rich in the air, the landscaping outside the building meticulously cared for. The apartment building was very nice, and it was obvious to me that neither of us were hurting for money.

The elevator opened on the eighth floor, the long covered walkway echoing with my hoofbeats as I walked slowly to his door. I'd chosen to wear a simple white dress shirt and black slacks which would set off my paint coloring nicely, the brown and white looking almost vibrant instead of dull, my black cropped mane and tail giving me a military appearance.

At long last, there it was. Apartment 805, a plaque that read "Swan" on the door, and a small green potted plant sitting off to one side, a breeze played around the beige stuccoed walls of the breezeway as I stood there for a few moments. Here I was, in front of the last barrier separating us. My blood and his at that moment so close, for the first time, my heart pounded in my chest as I took a shuddering breath. Then before I could raise my hand the door swung open and there he was.

What would he be like?

I no longer had to wait, now I had the answer. He looked almost identical to me. There were little differences however, like his midnight dark mane was kept short but not cropped, his eyes were green instead of brown like mine and he was younger. But that other than those minor details we could have been twins. He even wore a black shirt and white pants, the reverse mirror to my outfit. He looked as stunned as I felt, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open as he looked me over, absolutely speechless. Neither of us could stop staring. Same height, same muscular build, same stance, both of us leaning on our left hooves more than the right, and even our markings were the same, from the white spot over our left eyes, to the pink patch at the tips of our muzzles.

"Howie?" His mouth gaped in shock.

I couldn't make my voice work, and I just nodded lightly.

Before I could react he stepped forward and desperately took me into his arms and began to cry, his shoulders shaking, and a soft keening sound in his throat. For a single second I was confused, and then the damn burst and my own tears began soaking my cheek fur, sobs wracking my body as I wrapped my arms around him.

"I'm here little brother, I'm here." I cooed to him, his muzzle sniffling into my shoulder, his arms gripping me as if he were afraid I'd disappear and he'd never see me again.

"Oh bro. I didn't know I missed you until I saw you." He whimpered into my shoulder as I held him, making soft comforting sounds. Time seeming to slow down for the two of us, the moment lengthened and I was aware of everything, the moment burning itself into my memory. How his arms felt, the musky sweet smell of his fur, familiar, and a little strange, and how my shoulder grew damp the longer we held each other, my breath catching almost every time I tried to breathe. The sound of footpads in the hallway snapped me back to reality. This was too public and intimate of a moment, and obviously Ed felt the same. He pulled off and beckoned me into his apartment wiping his eyes as he did so.

If I had been shocked when I saw him to see how similar we were, I was absolutely floored when I saw his apartment was almost identical in setup to mine. I kept doing double takes as my hooves carried me around in a daze, every item was exactly where I had mine back home. The couch on the right, tv on the left, a small table in the nook set up against the wall, with one of the four chairs set at the end, one set kitty corner to it, a small pile of papers and bills on it, the other two sitting in the living room in case guests came by. Even in the kitchen, there was a surprise. He kept his silverware in the second drawer down next to the stove, the same way I did, which the knives on the right. It was a quirke my friends made fun of me for, and it seemed that for once I wasn't alone in having that habit.

"Come, sit down. Can I get you something to drink?" He walked over to a small bar near the couch. I just nodded glancing at a picture on the wall. Ed and his parents at a theme park when Ed was young, the beaming young horse framed by two black and white bovines.

"Here" He handed me a small glass and I sniffed, my mane shivering.

"Port!? Tawny Port!?" I chuckled shaking my head smiling. "Not only do we look the same, and keep our silverware in the wrong drawer, we also like the same things. We should have been born twins!" I raised my glass to him and winked, "To my little brother, may we get along as well as I hope." He smiled as we both downed the flavorful wine, notes of cherries permeating my nose.

The night wore on, and it was with deep regret I headed home at about three am, needing to be at work no later than ten that morning. We had tried to share a lifetime in several hours, but we both knew it was impossible, but we agreed to keep meeting. Hanging out once a week became a common occurrence, then twice a week, then three times. One afternoon he came to my place and he had the distinct uneasy and astounded feeling that I had experienced as he realized I wasn't kidding that my own setup mirrored his. He laughed almost hysterically when he saw I kept my jocks next to my jeans instead of in the drawer where I kept my socks. Another odd quirk it seemed that we shared.

Once in a while we'd watch a movie together at our apartment, just sitting near each other, commenting at our favorite parts. It was both nice, and frustrating to be around him. He was everything I had been missing in my life up until that point, and yet, he was my half-brother. I began to almost dread the hugs I gave him before he left, each one lasting a little longer, a little more longing in my chest as I held him close to me. But he never complained that my attentions had grown a little warm. Was it my imagination that over time his arms would squeeze a little tighter, his paw rub my back a little more intimately? I didn't know if that was real, or imagined. I just shrugged internally as best as I could and moved on.

I never really got to digest the slow change in our attitudes, because just as a frog will ignore the gradual heating of water and succumb to its effects, so to did we succumb to each other. It was inevitable. We were both still young, and still single (he broke up with his boyfriend when he left for a year), and we figured why not? Just a nice innocent boy's night out, why not hit the town, kick up our hooves and have a little fun? Neither of us ever got out much, and we both hated to go alone to bars. It seemed like a good idea.

That night I showed up and rolled my eyes when he opened the door. If it had been anyone else, I would have gone home to change clothes. He had on the same exact outfit as me. White shirt with the two top buttons undone, black jeans, black belt with a silver buckle, and leather bracelet on his right wrist, mine was on my left. We both chuckled and headed out. The train ride wasn't a long one and before long we were in the gay district.

Another irony was that even though we went to the same bars in our youth, we had never run into each other. It did explain a lot of odd occurrences for both of us when people would swear we had 'just been here yesterday.' No need for six degrees of separation with us it seemed.

The "Bit and Bridle" was the bar we both preferred, sporting killer drink specials and cute bar-backs, including an adorable little donkey with abs for days. Despite the name, not all of the patrons were equine.

A wall of sound always just about bowled me over every time I entered, and tonight was no different. The music was more felt than heard, a forceful thrum that rattled my teeth. This establishment had a layout that explained why it was so popular though. Up front was the dance floor and stage, basically a night club in and of itself. In the middle was the bar with ample seating and in the back was an outdoor patio and a smaller bar where relative quiet reigned. Folks could party and dance, drink and socialize, or relax and enjoy some quiet depending on their mood, all in one place.

We both ordered beer and headed to the back. We found a nice spot by one of the wood railings that lined the fence and got to chatting about our day, our eyes lingering once in a while on a rounded ass or plump package. Perhaps a firm set of pecs or a strong set of arms caught our attention and we'd joke about what we'd do with our "victims." Every now and then someone would flirt with us, and ask us if we were twins. We'd just both grin and say "Yes."

"Yeah, so that's why I dumped him. He was just incredibly boring, and there just wasn't anything 'there' if you know what I mean." Ed was only slightly tipsy, only slurring his words a tiny bit. Again he was like me, when he got tipsy he just got giggly and horny, and as the night went on we both kept eying the same white palomino.

"That one though, he looks like nothing but trouble." I laughed as the white horse walked by smiling at the two of us, his plump rear filling out a pair of red running shorts that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. His lack of a shirt didn't help his 'I'm a slut' look either.

Ed snorted taking a sip of his drink. "Yeah, but I at least like to be able to anticipate what I'm gonna see later, not just get an eyeful first thing." His look turning haughty as the white equine saw us ogling him.

The palomino turned. "Who says you'd actually get to see let alone touch this?" He wiggled his hips in what he thought was a sexy manner, but it just came off as overly effeminate.

"Who says we'd want to?" I chuckled downing the rest of my beer, the sweet light malt coating my tongue and, ironically, making me thirsty.

"What's with this 'we' stuff? Who says I'd take on the both of you?" The white equine had a prissy look on his muzz. I saw Ed's green eyes twinkle and he gave me a look and a wink. We may not have super twin ESP or anything, but I knew him well enough now to know what was going on in his head.

"Might as well tell him Ed." I sat my beer glass down.

My handsome young half-brother smiled in a seductive manner and walked up to the snow white horse. "Oh come now, don't tell me you've never dreamed of having twins!?" He purred, one finger trailing down between the slender horse's pecs to his taught navel.

"Ah bullshit, you're not twins or even brothers. I've heard that line before." The palomino said rolling his eyes. A few other furs crowded around watching this little show unfold. "Nice job on making your face fur look the same, but I ain't buying it."

"You think we aren't?" I laughed reaching down to peel my shirt off, revealing a patchwork of brown and white, Edgar was standing a little in front of me. My crotch got tight as I watched my younger brother take his shirt off. I'd seen him with it off once as we compared our torso's to see if we had similar marks, which we did, but tonight though there was a different feeling in my chest as I realized he had a really sexy back, his well definite muscles rippling and sliding as he moved. The throbbing in my groin increased.

Wait, he's...he's my brother.

The white horse's eyes went wide as he looked at us both standing together, markings all but identical, only our eye color and mane length a little different, but the palomino couldn't probably tell that in the dim light. He rallied quickly though.

"Ok yeah, you're twins or brothers for sure, but brothers don't kiss and make out." He crossed his arms and there were a few snickers from the other furs, especially from a big black draft horse who looked like he would wipe the floor with the twinky little horse and not even raise a sweat.

"Heh, yeah, that's what you think." Ed snorted, then turned and took me in his arms and pressed his lips to mine. I nickered involuntarily, breathing hard out my nose into his muzzle, my arms wrapped around his neck as his sweet warm lips pushed into mine, his paws pressing against my pecs, his thick warm bulge rubbing against mine.

He's....he's my half-brother.

I shuddered and pulled away as a few of the other furs cheered as the two 'twins' made out.

"Yeah, sometimes brothers do make out and stuff." Ed gave the white horse a look. The white slut's mouth was open and he stormed off in a huff. We both watched him go.

"Fucking twinks." Ed spat walking over to the bar just as a big black paw dropped onto my shoulder.

"Yeah, twins. Right. Either way, you guys are hot." The draft whispered slipping me a business card before he trotted to the exit.

I watched him go and barely noticed when Ed put two shot glasses into my unresisting paws.

"Drink, I think I need it as much as you do." He muttered downing the whiskies. Finally something I hated. I figured my little brother would to. Nope. He savored his shots as I choked mine down.

The liquid burned as it snaked its way down, the acrid taste causing me to cough on the last swallow, Ed beaming at me. "Heh. I hate this stuff too. Just testing ya. Gah! Yuck." He wiped a paw across his muzzle lapping at his lips with his broad tongue. "Ok, let's get out of here." He grabbed my paw and I followed along obediently. The fresh air of the street was a welcome feeling, and when we finally sat down on the train it was with a dawning realization I had a few drinks more than I normally would have, and I'd lost my shirt somewhere. So had Ed though, and by the glazed look in his eyes, I could tell he was over his personal limit too.

We got to the metro stop near my apartment a little later and we were the only two to get off the car and to step onto the street below, our hooves a little steadier now. The cool night air caressed my fur as we walked down the street, our steps in perfect time, and his shoulder only an inch or two away from mine.

"Howie, I...I'm so glad we finally met each other. I've, well, never had a brother, or anyone I felt this close to." He leaned to his side a little, his muscular shoulder just brushing mine, a blush heating my nose neck and ears.

"I...I'm glad too Ed. It's like, something has always been missing." I closed my eyes and reached with my paw and was not surprised at all when his grasped mine.

But he's my...

We walked in silence, a hot tightness filling my groin, my cock slipping free from the sheath, pressing into my jock, the soft cotton soaked as my pre began to coat my soft flare.

But he's...

The breeze blew in from my left, and I caught the scent. I'd smelled him before. It would have been hard not to, but this was the first time I'd smelled him so closely, so intimately. I leaned into his shoulder and breathed him in. Spicy and sweet. He smelled nothing like me at all. I had a funky masculine almost feral smell, but he smelled almost delicate, but not in a feminine way, if anything he smelled more masculine than anyone else I'd known and I drank every bit as my nose twitched on the breeze.

We came to the door to my complex, and waited for the elevator in the lobby, just leaning against each other, and with that earie sixth sense we seemed to possess, we both let go of each other's hand slipping them around each other's waist, standing side by side, until finally the door opened, and we stepped in. I pressed the button for the 12th floor, and the doors closed with a soft thud.

He was on me in a heartbeat, his lips mashed against mine in a furiously sweet kiss, his passion driving his grasping paws over my pecs and sides as if he were frantically searching for something he had lost and just knew I had it buried in my fur. My own fingers gripped at his arms and pulled him into me, our groins digging into each other, a joyful whinny ripping from my throat as I felt his hardness against my own.

We stumbled out of the elevator when the doors slid open, sidling our way down the hall to the door to my place, our passionate kiss as unabated as the lust we both felt. I pushed him off roughly as I dug for my key in my pocket, his voice harsh. "Damnit, get the fucking thing OPEN." He all but shouted. I couldn't get the key into the slot at first, but finally got the door to open on the third try, my paw shoving him in roughly, his shoulder bouncing off the open door. I dove in and slammed the door behind us just as his back crashed against the plaster of the entry way, his breath was knocked out of him as I reached for him.

"Fuck" I growled all but ripping his black jeans off, a pair of white jocks that all but were identical to mine, save for the brand, barely kept his leaking mottled black and pink member at bay. My patience broke and I ripped the coal black cloth of his jeans from his legs, the sound of the tearing fabric like that of a snarling panther.

But....

He whimpered as I then ripped off his jock, the elastic bands snapping under the assault, his cock swinging free, raging hard with need and a long thick line of pre oozing down to the floor. The mottled flesh was hot in my paw as I grasped, using the living leash to pull him to me as we sank into a deeper passionate kiss that shook me to my core.

His meat pulsed in my grip as we kissed and his frantic movements told me that my little half-brother was just as eager to see if we matched up in a more intimate way. Soon my own denim pants were pooled around my hooves and I felt his soft paw wrap around my thick meat, a nicker of pleasure chortled out of his throat, my own answering his as we kissed even deeper my other paw around his neck as if I was trying to pull him into my very soul.

Suddenly I pulled back and gasped breaking the kiss, both of us breathing hard. My eyes bored into his green ones, searching. What I was looking for, I don't know, and whether or not he knew what he was looking for in mine was a mystery, but whatever meaning we were looking for, we knew we had found it. Without a single word, we both smiled, and made our way to the bedroom our paws clasping each other's.

"So, who gets to top first?" He looked back at me smirking.

I punched him in the shoulder. "Dibs! Besides, I'm older."

"Hey that's not mmmf!" His protest was silenced as I pressed my muzzle to his, my tongue caressing his, my arms insistently pushing him down, his rump slamming into the mattress, his tail flicking in excitement. My paws cupped his firm chest as it bunched and a firey thrill ran up my spine as my cock grazed his, the soft skin hot and pulsing with his heartbeat, the rhythm making it bounce lightly with gentle throbs, mine answering in kind, our slick pre soaked shafts sliding together.

He laid down against his elbows, his head leaning forward to watch me, intently, his mouth slightly open. I gave him one last quick peck on the lips, and then gripped his hocks leveraging his legs back and exposing his smooth leathery taint, the dark black skin covering his searing warm balls as they hung low.

The spice odor in the air went up a notch and I shuddered at the smell, my cock dripping a new load of pre out the slit. "Oh, fuck bro." I whispered bending down, the two very large equine nuts covered the treasure under them, the warmth of him bathing my muzzle as it dipped down. Those hefty orbs rose up slightly in anticipation, and I did not disappoint them or their owner, letting my moist tongue softly caress the musky dark skin.

"Oh...fuck..." He whispered breathlessly, the sound deep, powerful, and full of emotions. The spicy salty taste of his soft sack filled my mouth as I moved my tongue over his balls, suckling each in turn into my warm muzzle, my lips gently rolling them in, embracing his masculine essence. He tasted so good, the sensation making my mane shiver as a flurry of sight, sound, smell, taste and feel flooded me, my skin on fire and almost too tight with need.

Gently I released his jewels, and nosed them aside, a musky scent wafting into my nostrils, I hung there for a moment, breath huffing against his soft taint and puckered donut.

"Please Howard, please." It was softly insistent plea that I was ready to answer, deftly teasing his ring, kissing it gently, my lip fur brushing against the sensitive skin. He moaned a satisfied nicker, the musical sound filling my ears. His taste became my world, the sweetly musky spice almost overwhelming every part of me and I began to hunger for it like nothing else before, my tongue digging in eagerly, lapping at the ring, slowly prying it open, my mouth slurping at the soft skin with a wildly wet passion preparing him like I would a mare.

The muscle twitched a few times, then relaxed and my tongue slipped in easily, his taste bright and sensuous on my tongue. Further and further I quested with my rough broad muscle, his funky smell and spicy sweet taste driving me on. He whinnied when I found the hard little nub inside of him, his legs jerking involuntarily as my tongue brushed against it. I chuckled and flicked it several more times, a new scent filling my bedroom as more pre streamed out of him.

"Please. Howie. Please fuck me." He was insistent and kept panting the phrase over and over, a litany of a prayer begging for an answer. My cock was hard as rock, my balls tight with the need to fill him, and to join with him. My muzzle pulled back, my tongue lapping at my lips, trying to get every single possible taste of his musk that I could as I shifted myself upright. My paws gripped his thighs roughly as pulling his rump over the edge of the bed. He whined when my paws pushed down on his haunches, spreading him open, his hocks near his ears, his eyes boring into my very soul, the bright green locking to my chocolate brown.

I smiled at him.

But he's...he's...fuck it, he's mine.

"Ready for the plunge little bro? There's no going back you know, no pretending this didn't happen." I was dead serious even though I was smiling, and I let that creep into my voice. He sobered as well and returned the smile.

"Howard, big bro, I am well aware of what we are about to do, and if you don't stick your horse cock into my ass in three seconds, so help me, I'll...ooooooh!"

I could tell right away he wasn't a bottom. Considering how alike we were, he was probably a top like me. I only would consider myself a bottom for the right guy and as my cock sank into him slowly, his heat covering and enveloping every inch I pushed into him, I realized that for him I would bottom him in a heartbeat.

"Easy bro, easy!" I felt his paws press into my pecs, and I tensed, holding myself as still as possible, a look of fierce concentration on his muzzle, his green eyes boring into mine. He huffed a few times and grimaced as I felt him clench down on me, his ass ring a hot molten vice around my invading cock.

As quickly as he clamped down, he relaxed and sighed, giving me a short nod, his breath hissing through his teeth, his lips curled. I held myself still and closed my eyes, stamping a hoof, mentally holding myself back. I wanted to shove in as hard as possible, but I also knew Ed wouldn't thank me for that, and as much as I am equine, I didn't want a horseshoe shaped bruise on my chest from where he'd kick me.

With painful slowness I eased myself in some more, my medial pressing into his stretched ring, the thick ridge giving me pause. As I slowed his fingers dug into my hips and he pulled on them harshly, his grimace fierce and his voice in a commanding growl. "Don't stop, don't stop" He huffed, his eyes going wide as I sank further and further, the ring slipping into him with a squelching sound.

"Ah...ah! I cried as I finally hilted inside him, my brother's warm nuts resting against me, the soft sheath skin pressing up against his taint as I finally stilled my body, both of us taking huge shuddering breaths. I leaned down and brushed my lips against his velvet soft ones gently pulling my hips back, his warm satisfied sigh filling my muzzle.

With a smooth gentleness I reversed the motion and pushed in, a whimpering whinny escaping from his mouth as I continued to kiss into him, my tongue gently slipping into his mouth and caressing his in a sensual embrace.

"Ah..." He moaned as I slowly began to set into a slow sensual rhythm.

"Oh Edgar" My voice was raw and deep, just like my passion was for him. He felt divine, like a warm summer day, like the softest of silky cream encasing my length, and his taste was of the sweetest of roses as I lipped his cheek.

"Howie, please, please breed me. Fill me up with your seed, your cum, please bro." His eyes were shut tight, a look of concentration on his face as his paw slowly reached down to his stretched ass, his fingers sliding across my meat and his swollen ring.

"Ah yes!" I hissed as those words pushed me on. I began to buck into him, huge breaths and grunts filling my throat and muzzle. I tossed my head back, my eyes open and unseeing as I tuned everything but the feel of him out. I could feel every inch, every part of his ass as I drove in deeply, my pre coating him, preparing him for my foals.

"Ung!" He huffed a couple of times, and then I felt him clamp down, his ass almost sucking me in, my eyes were drawn down just in time to see the first stream of thick white cream jet out of the tip of his flare and paint his lips and nose, his tongue darting out to greedily taste the thick cum.

It was too damn much. My neck arched and my jaw grew tight as I dug my hips into his rump, breeding him as I would any mare, my rod planted firmly and triumphantly inside him. "Fuck!" The word was torn from me as I felt my load shoot deep inside of him, my flare blooming as it scraped against his tunnel walls as I pushed in heavily, my hooves grinding furiously into the carpet as I kept trying to push impossibly further. I kept filling him, the hard short thrusts beginning to sound wet as my cum began to leak out around his ring, his ass unable to hold my equine load as my bucking and snorting slowed.

"Oh...Oh fuck Ed!" I cried coming down from my high, the warm feeling of a good breeding filling my head and heart, the skin of my haunches twitching as tired muscles complained that they had been pushed well beyond their endurance.

I heard the chuckled, and a sticky paw reached up to my neck my exhausted body pulled down to his, the pink tongue darting into my mouth as he shared the tangy creamy flavor of his cum in our kiss.

"Hrm. That. Was. Hot." He said breaking the kiss, his eyes lidded, a drop of cum hanging from his chin. I laid down on him, white streaks of his copious seed streaking the brown spots on our fur.

"Yes, it was." I nodded panting.

"I think I could get used to having a brother like you." He chuckled again, a rich warm sound that sounded self-satisfied. The last little twinge in my moral compass gave way. Who was to say this was right or wrong? All I knew was that it felt right, and therefore to me it was. To hell what anyone else thought. I gazed into his twinkling green eyes and smiled.

"I think I could get used to this too." My voice was husky and deep as we both grinned and kissed, my cock softening, coming free with a soft pulse, the copious load of horse cum oozing out of his well-bred ass to the comforter below.

That night I fell asleep, warm, contented, and held by someone who now knew me better than anyone else in the world. Half-brother, blood relation or not, that was not something I was willing to let go of, and I'm quite contentedly happy to say, I never did.