FSE

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The needs had been growing for weeks now. Those deep gnawing needs, those cravings. I could slap them down for a while, even ignore them, but they were always there tormenting my dreams and interrupting me in meetings. Just yesterday I had been sitting there while the Vice President droned on about sales forecasts when I noticed the new sales rep for Eastern; he was a fresh looking bull with perfect horns and a cute little nosering and a body under his suit you could just about eat.

I ended up jacking it in the bathroom at lunch but it wasn't enough. I needed my fix.

Trying to forget the guilt and the shame I made my plans. My wife was at a conference and my son was on a football camp. It was perfect. I told myself I really wasn't doing anything bad at all, nothing really bad. Just scratching an itch, before I tore my own skin off.

To avoid that I shed my skin in other ways. Standing in front of the door, nondescript in a big old building that used to be a hotel, I pondered the sign. Part business name, part promise.

Wet.

Simple. Direct. Intriguing. Hot.

The buck on the door knew me, and I had a momentary twinge of anger when he didn't bother checking my ID. I knew there was no way I would pass for under eighteen any more, and at forty two I was anything but twinky. Still, I would have preferred he did it just for form and to make me feel better. I was acutely conscious of my age in this place, and my place in the pecking order. A middle aged bull with a bit of grey in his fur and a slight belly was nothing to write home about. Still, they always took my money, and when it came to it, my ass too. Surprising how many of the hot and buff twinks or studs had a decent sized daddy fetish.

Exchanging clothes for a towel I headed for the bar beside the pool. A couple of felines, probably early twenties, were engaging in a lighthearted game straddling a pole and smacking each other with plastic baseball bats. In the pool, a Doberman in a G-string did languid laps while several other furs lounged around and watched while sipping their drinks. A few had the overbright look in their eyes of a genuine pinger. I sighed inside with middle aged judgement but secretly wanted one of them to join me later. Nothing quite like getting a pounding from a guy on the gear who couldn't cum and didn't care.

Just scratching an itch.

"Hey handsome..."

He was a husky, about thirty or so. Built as fuck, wearing nothing but a towel. His pecs were the size of small African countries, his abdominals so defined it looked like you could use them as a xylophone. He had a nipple ring in his left nip, a stud in his left ear, and that magic wide eyed look of an eccie going to work. Magic.

"Hey...stud. Hows it going?"

He snorted and looked at the pool. An otter had just joined the throng in the water and was playfully splashing the Doberman. One of the felines had fallen in, and the other joined him, and they were kissing like they were going to fuck right there to wild cheering.

"Too many twinkies. I like my guys more...mature..."

I managed to slam down my drink and not cough in spite of the growing burn in my face. My groin was alive to the sound of music.

"Well that's good..."

Fuck I was no good at this.

"Yeah. And I like them big. Means I can fuck without holding back."

It appeared I didn't need to be good at this anyway. My first catch of the night.

Tailhole already tingling we headed upstairs. I turned towards one of the unoccupied private rooms but my gym bunny grunted again and pulled me the other direction. Towards the playroom.

Blushing again, I followed. I really couldn't complain, and I did get an extra kick out of this. I loved it you see, watching, being watched. In the barely lit almost-dark of the big playroom, faces blurred but cocks always miraculously distinct, and the sound of squelching, grunts, moans, cries and occasional screams. The brotherhood of cock, and I could be part of it for a night.

The usual suspects were sitting by the door, older furs checking out the new entrants. They saw I came with company, and let me go. Inside, I felt the sudden gust of wind as my date for the night claimed his first prize, my towel, pulled off roughly enough to hurt my tail and tossed into the pile by the wall. He claimed my muzzle next, hard enough to leave me gasping, his tongue practically tunnelling through my throat, hard hands clasped on either cheek so I couldn't escape. This one was hungry.

He seemed thirsty too. Leading me to a low play bench he made me kneel on the padded surface with my back to the wall. He took up a position on the floor and gripped my cock in a no-nonsense deathgrip. I mooed slightly miffed. He didn't seem to give a fuck, instead jacking me to hardness and letting his tongue soothe the burn in my cock by lapping precum droplets from the tip.

Needs. I needed. My cock dribbled a constant stream of it into his muzzle.

"Turn and face the wall cow..."

I didn't want to, enjoying that muzzle too much, but he seemed in a hurry and I didn't mind where this was going. My disappointment for lost blowjobs was tempered by the reapplication of a nicely tapered muzzle to my ass crack and the touch of a rough husky tongue on my tailhole. Rimming was a singular pleasure, and one my wife never would have contemplated worse luck.

"Fuuuuuuuuuckkkkk...."

I always got verbal when I got a nice deep asslicking. He was good too, licking from under my tail over the crinkled muscled ring of my ass and down my taint. He washed my balls, making them extra needy, and used his lips as well on my taint, enough to have me gasping, before spreading my cheeks hard and ramming his tongue inside. I melted, and let out a long satisfied moo, my cock leaking on the vinyl leaving a small puddle of contentment.

"Fuck yeah deeper stud..."

He obeyed too, tongue laving at the twitching skin of my hole, eating me out nice and deep. I pressed my hands to the concrete, muzzle to one side, and opened my eyes to look at the scene.

Over to my right a buck and a bear were watching us. The buck had his towel off, long thin cervine cock out, pink in the dusky light, jacking. He was tall, and nicely muscled, about twenty. The bear was older, about forty, with brown fur shot with grey, a massive chunky body, and a chintuft. He had the redneck look I loved, and judging by the bear claw brand on the buck's chest, he also had a stag admirer. The bear was still in his towel, but the bulge in the front told me he was enjoying the show.

Sudden cold air enveloped my hole, tail lifted in midair, and I waited for the moment of truth. My pucker was almost singing it was so happy.

"Such a hot cow..."

The gym junkie behind me seemed to have a limited vocabulary. I judge him about as thick as two shot planks, but I wasn't here for conversation. I was here for this.

"Ohhhhhhhfuckkkkkmoooooooooo!"

Fortunately, his brain wasn't the only thing that was thick. The first nudge of his fat cock against my hole made me shudder. He had made use of the condoms and lube arrayed round the walls, thankfully, or I would have had to stop him. Instead I felt the heat of his fat tip even through the latex, the slightly cold intrusion of slickness followed by the deep burn of a thick steel-hard husky cock taking me to the knot. I braced against the wall, balls dancing, and closed my eyes to enjoy the ride.

He wiggled his hips a little, sliding back to leave just the tip inside. I whimpered, wanting it rough not gentle, and I wasn't disappointed. He rammed it in all the way, knot slapping my hole almost hard enough to tie me, and I grunted out my appreciation as he began a wild rolling fuck, hips moving like a steam engine, pounding his piston into a willing receptacle. The squelch of lubed up cock in tight bull hole filled the room, joining the other similar sounds of ecstacy, accompanied by panting grunts from behind as my partner enjoyed the best cardio workout of his schedule.

My ass was nicely tingly, and my leaking cock twitching beautifully under the remorseless pounding of the husky, when I heard a new sound to my right. A gasp, then a giggle. It was so incongruous I opened my eyed again, then wished I hadn't.

In my lust dimmed gaze I could see him well enough. A tall lean equine, wearing a towel. He looked about twenty, with the tall lean physique of a colt becoming a stallion. Buff cremello colouring, a blonde mane, and blonde feathering on his forearms were especially delicious, as were the pert pink nipples crowning decent sized brown areolae. His pecs were flat and defined, very different to the bunched masses of my current fuckbuddy, but he had defined abdominals too, leading to an enticing patch of honey coloured pubes poking above his towel. His tail swished behind in time to the thrusts from the husky behind me.

I knew of course that he wasn't twenty though, because I had attended his eighteenth birthday just a week ago. It was Justin, our next door neighbours' colt, a rather prim and proper quarterhorse couple in accounting, and he was also my son's best friend. And he had the biggest, cheesiest grin on his muzzle watching me get a hard merciless fucking from a brain free muscle stud husky who only seemed capable of repeating "take it cow" over and over as he ravished my tailhole with the thoroughness and compassion of a jackhammer.

The shame I had felt approaching the building magnified a hundredfold. As did my arousal; a feedback loop of heat and shame that threatened to go nuclear. I couldn't take my eyes off him.

He nodded and waved. Oh fuck he waved. Then he was joined by the two I had seen before.

The bear seemed to whisper something in his ear. The long shapely equine ear flicked, something I always found cute even when I wasn't contemplating him as I was now. He smirked and nodded, still staring at me. Bear muzzle contacted colt neck, nibbling, kissing, and his head leaned back a little, muzzle open, tongue out, as the bear stood behind him and wrapped him in a big pair of arms.

The stag was kissing too, but kissing colt chest, suckling each nipple before kissing his muzzle. As they kissed, a towel fell to earth, and my remaining equilibrium went with it.

Fuck his cock was sublime. Long, thin, tapered with a fat flared head, pink and black mottled with a prominent medial over a pair of fat testicles contained in a taut leather sac. Fucking equines.

As I watched him watching me, my brain almost detached, I saw him succumbing to the couple. First the stag reached for his cock, jacking nice and slow, the first trickle of colt precum glistening on his flare. Then he cupped those heavy nuts and squeezed while the bear's paws found colt nipples and rubbed, then twisted as it seemed he liked rougher treatment. Finally the stag sank to his knees.

"Oh..ohhhhhhhhhh!"

That sound was so beautiful. Above all the sighs, moans and grunts and the slapping of flesh and flesh, the sound of pure surprised teenage bliss. The stag licked a trail down the underside of his cock, the pillar of horseflesh bounced and slapped his chest, and then he got a long slow nut bath as the buck lapped at the underside of his scrotum. I watched his flare pulse, then a bear paw reached round to grip his colthood. One meaty paw jacked him off, claws digging into sensitive flesh, while the stag tongue almost delicately bathed his scrotum.

I was so close, the burn in my ass building into a firestorm of heat. The colt looked on the brink too, his cock jerking like a wild animal. Then he came.

"Ahhhhhhhh!"

It was a guttural cry of release, followed by a fountain of colt spunk, a flood of it spraying the stag's face and muzzle, strings dripping off his antlers, as the wide eyed young stallion ejaculated out a months worth of cum, or so it looked. I lost it then too, my cock unleashing an answering burst against the wall.

As I gushed my pleasure in spurt after spurt, I locked eyes again, and watched his green pools sparkle, and then I saw him grin.

"Yeah, loved my cock didn't you cow?"

I grunted in agreement, not having the heart to tell him it was watching the unbridled release of a young stud that brought me off not his incessant mechanical fucking. I realised in a moment though that I had a problem.

Drug inhibited orgasm delay was fine, unless your tailhole had already taken enough, in which case it could really ruin your day. As well as the structural integrity of your sphincter.

"Fuck...take it easy..."

I got a slap to the rump for my troubles, and a woof.

"I fuck hard cow, and I fuck long. Told you."

My groans turned to whimpers, turned to little pleading yelps. He pounded on like the Energizer bunny on roids, which was probably what he was. My only consolation was the sight of the colt.

Things had moved on now. The stag was on one of the play benches like me, kneeling facing the wall, his little diamond tail lifted. The bear was applying a condom to the colt, equine pattern, with nice big flared tip, and rubbing enough lube on to coat a small battleship.

And I was still in spite of it all achingly hard.

He watched me then too, eyes on mine, smile broadening, as he took the stag's ass. The flare popped inside, drawing a bleat, the stag scrunching his eyes tight, and then he sank the full length of that magnificent organ into the heated depths of his conquest. The bear stood behind him, coaxing, rubbing his fat cock on the colt's ass cleft, each new thrust poking through a mass of unkempt blonde tail. I watched the dimple on the side of his ass cheeks, as it appeared and disappeared with each fresh flex of his hips and ass, and the way his long slender organ swelled with each passage into heaven.

Even with the bear teasing his ass and his hole he lasted a lot longer this time. I saw his eyes glaze as he felt the fuck, the perfect plateau of pleasure where everything is possible and time seems to stop. His muzzle formed a kiss and he blew it to me, drawing an answering sigh, 'oh fuck'.

"Hot daddy bull...that's it...take it cow..."

His limited repertoire was beginning to grate. Thankfully he had the sense to reach around, rubbing my raw cock as harshly as his cock rubbed the sides of my tunnel. I moaned. I mooed. I willed it to finish.

Then the bear sank to his knees, and poked his snout into colt cleft, even as Justin began to speed up. I watched tongue lap at the swinging scrotum, the cleft, and then the fat pucker of his tailhole, while the colt spread his legs and lifted his tail into the heavens.

There is something about watching a young guy cum. The way his cock jerks, the way you see the cum pulse along his cumtube, the high pitched moans almost of surprise, the way his body tenses like its going to break. He had his head back, eyes closed, tongue out, mane shaking, and he rammed in deep and used short thrusts to fill the condom and ignite a fire in the stag.

He was about to pull out when the bear stopped him. Standing again, he whispered in that cute colt ear, and the stud seemed to get the message, using only the first few inches of his cock. I realised he was massaging the buck's prostate then, eyes wide in shock at the feel of a fat nut against his flare. Discovery is wonderful, especially when you are young.

The stag was jacking off now, hand moving in rapid strokes, and the bear's paws were also active. One returned to twisting colt nipple, the other buried two fat fingers up the colt's ass, massaging a second prostate in sympathy with the first.

He came again, just as the stag shot off hard, ass clenching on colt cock. Another discovery it seemed, the feeling of ass in orgasm while you plunder. He laughed, eyes sparkling, and gave me a wink.

I spunked all over the husky's paw, and enjoyed a brief moment of perfection before the screaming pain of a knot tying me broke through and I bellowed out and tried to escape through the wall. At least that finished him, the husky howling as he filled his own condom inside me and I felt the blessed relief of heated cum soothing my inner pains. He rested sweaty on my back with his muzzle over my shoulder panting.

"See, now you know what the best feels like cow."

Well, I knew what it looked like, anyway.

It took a good fifteen minutes before his knot went down enough to pull out without ripping my ass out. In that time I got to see the bear finally get his own climax. He fucked his partner up against a wall, raw and wild, while the colt watched and jacked off. The husky did notice, finally.

"Looks like he works out, but he hasn't got the bulk. Needs some supplements, and a better trainer that one if he wants to get real swole..."

"Yeah, real swole...he looks a bit disappointing now really..."

I got a kiss for that, my apparent agreement. He didn't seem to get irony either, unless he thought irony was something like bronzy.

Then he pulled out and I whimpered like a schoolgirl again, my raw pucker feeling like it needed the six million dollar man treatment. Don't worry bull, we can rebuild it. The bionic ass.

Pass the twine...and forceps...we will have this tightened in a jiffy...

Suddenly conscious of the harsh reality of my predicament, I bolted for the pool again. Water soothed my swollen hole, and I sank a vodka and tried to decide what to do next. Of course, the young shit wouldn't allow me any room.

"Incoming!"

He dived in, splashing my muzzle and filling my eyes with water. As I blinked away the chlorinated torrent, he emerged from the surface, still grinning, and winked.

"Fancy meeting you here Mister Douglas!"

"Yes Justin...fancy..."

He knew he had me at a disadvantage, and like the cocky young cunt he was, he sought to use it.

"Well...Mark never told me about this..."

I gave him my best evil stare. "Mark doesn't know."

He tried to look innocent. "Really? And Mrs Douglas...?"

I swallowed. "No. And what about you...does Mark or your parents know you are out on a school night getting your end away in a gay bath house?"

I might have sounded a little waspish. I told myself it was due to the ache in my ruined tailhole.

He finally managed to look a little uncertain.

"Look, Mister Douglas..."

"Gavin. I think after this, we can probably use first names."

That perked him up a bit, ears up, tail flicking. He even looked a little contrite.

"Gavin. Nice. Look, Mister Dougals, your secret is safe don't worry. I don't tell anyone either, the guys at school would give me so much grief, its not worth it. I just...well, I never guessed."

"Nor did I Justin. Nor did I."

That was probably one reason for my slight anger too. I thought my gaydar was better than that. One of my true skills, and an important one. As a closeted gay bull, I needed to be very careful who I propositioned. I had been good so far; or maybe I had been lucky.

Maybe I would need to restrict my servicing of my needs to Wet from here on in. It wasn't worth it, even if that tradie wolf two months ago who came to fix the downpipe had been smoking hot...

"So, how about it?"

I coughed up the vodka, thoughts of tradie wolf forgotten. This was not going well.

He looked so matter-of-fact too, like he was suggesting we go for Maccas, not...well, I guess I had to ask.

"Justin! What the..."

"I always thought you were hot Mister Douglas. I like them older, and with a bit of a belly. And your cock looks so fine...and that husky was pounding your ass so hard I thought it would catch fire and..."

"Justin! No way...no fucking way..."

He ran down like a toy, suddenly needing a new twist of the key to get him going, and he looked so fucking cute and sad. I almost broke and kissed him.

"But...am I ugly?"

Oh fuck. I needed a will of steel now.

"Justin, you are fucking gorgeous. But you are our neighbour, I used to baby sit for you when you were ten for fuck sake, and you are my son's best friend. No way, no how."

His mask of agonized hurt turned to beaming sunshine.

"You think I'm gorgeous?"

Oh fuck. Now what have I done.

"Yes, of course you are you stupid pony!"

He was not listening anymore, instead bouncing in the water splashing all and sundry like some demented equine lawn sprinkler.

"He loves me, he loves me a lot, he loves me, he loves me a lot..."

"Fucking can it!"

A colt hand gripped my scrotum. I almost drowned then, and had to work hard to pull it away.

"No!"

"I felt your balls. Nuts don't lie. You waaaaaant it..."

"I will so spank your ass. Your dad doesn't spank your ass enough. Need to have a word to that stallion..."

"Oh? Whatcha gonna tell him?"

Stalemate. I stared him out, hand firmly clasped round his wrist. His ears dropped slowly, and his tail sank into the water. He looked mulish instead.

"But I want you. Ive wanted you a long time!"

"We cant always get what we want Justin."

"But you liked watching! I saw it!"

Mistake of mistakes. Honesty.

"Yeah, I did. Watching you get serviced by those two...fucking hell Justin, don't you know how hot you are? You should be out chasing another hot guy your age and fucking up a storm that would make tonight look like dinner theatre!"

"But no nookie for us?"

"No."

"Hmmmmmm..."

He gave me a wink again, and went to order a Bundy and coke. Typical teenager, I thought, and went back to gingerly feeling the remains of my ass. If I was very lucky it might just be up for more sex in about a millennium.

****

I waited for the storm to come, but it didn't, not immediately. The sense of impending doom felt like one though, the way the air feels before a thunderstorm, charged and ominous. My wife noticed it, as did Mark, but there was no way I could tell them. I just pretended it was pressure of work.

Two weeks later though, just as I was beginning to think it might be ok after all, the hammer dropped. It came in the form of a buzz from my phone.

I was used to late night calls, and usually it was a customer complaining that their shipment had gone astray. This one was not from a number I recognised though. I frowned.

Go to the study window.

What the fuck?

I grunted, and typed the only possible response.

Fuck off.

Beep Beep.

Go to the study window or else.

This time there was a horse head emoticon, and a smiley. I got the picture.

Excusing myself from the family sitting round the TV, I headed upstairs with heavy tread. My wife and firstborn barely noticed anyway, Marj reading a knitting book, and Mark on his iPad. It was nothing new for me to head to the study for some urgent work business at 10 pm. With a slight sense of regret I knew they would probably not care if I came down again. Marj would come up about 11, get into bed, and complain before turning out the light. Mark would head to his room to play Overwatch.

For now, I would be safely alone.

I turned on the light, waiting.

Beep Beep.

Open the curtain.

Swallowing hard, my throat suddenly dry, I obeyed.

Across the gap between our houses, another room lit up. A bedroom. I hadn't realised I guess, we tended to leave the curtains closed for privacy. But there was Justin's room, lit up too, with the curtain open.

He was standing in his football gear, still a bit muddy. I remembered he had training late on Thursdays, as he had joined one of the elite under 19 teams. My calf was still very much an amateur, playing for fun. The days when I used to pick them both up were a couple of years ago. I dimly remembered giving Justin my number once, when I agreed to pick him up when Mark was home with flu and his own parents couldn't do it.

Turn off the light.

I was obeying all his commands now. In a trance, and yet not.

You like to watch don't you. Well watch then, if you won't do anything else.

A whimper, louder than when the husky tied my ass. I stood stock still and waited.

He turned the light of too, his caramel coloured coat darkened, the moonlight glinting off his feathering, his tail, his mane. And his eyes, green and glistening. They sparkled like stars.

Facing me, he pulled off his football top. I saw that perfect torso again, and he showed off, flexing, first showing his guns, then his pecs. He reached for his own nipples, playing with them with his head thrown partly back as I remembered. His sweatpants bulged, and I saw the outline of a teenage horsecock, the flare obvious enough I could see the scalloped pattern in his flesh against fabric.

My hand had found its way into my pants somehow, even without seeming to mean it. I was jacking, still inside my clothes though, the agony delicious. Hand on flesh, nerves on fire, heart a mess. I worshipped his body from a distance as he worshipped it in person, our eyes locked across an empty space of air and suburban fence.

He had his phone in his hand again, fingers moving.

Drop your pants. I want to see your cock.

I shook my head, pleading with my eyes.

Beep Beep.

0596 338 242

It was Mark's mobile number. The threat was there, belied by the white grin from 10 metres away, moonlight shining on perfect colt teeth.

I dropped them, and my boxers, naked and vulnerable, cock hard and dripping. And I couldn't stop myself jacking, and groaning as I watched him teasingly drop his sweats, then his footy shorts, and finally, turned so his ass pointed at me, his jock. He twirled it in his fingers, then flung it across his bedroom and turned to me, revealing his full frontal naked body, cock up just as I remembered, balls as beautiful and hefty, flare already glistening with precum.

He matched my strokes, deliberately. I tested him, slowing down, speeding up, and he followed my lead. I became daring, cupping my sac, squeezing, and he went with it, his bulging scrotum so sweet, his cock spurting a long sticky line of precum to the floor.

Then he cocked his head slightly to one side and brought a finger to his muzzle, sliding it in and out like he was giving the unsuspecting digit a sloppy blowjob. The reason was clear soon enough, as he ostentatiously lifted his left leg onto the window sill, and slid his hand under his scrotum and plunged a finger into his own ass right before my startled eyes.

As he shuddered, muscles in his chest and arms flexing as he pleasured his own ass, he looked at me. I knew what he meant. My own shaking hand followed his lead, into my still sore pucker, and then towards my prostate. I bit my tongue to stop myself screaming, watching his movements become jerkier as he got close, the sway of his cock, the flare suddenly filling with blood and the urethra poking out like a periscope.

We came together, across a moonlit night. His prodigious balls spent their load all over his carpet and his hooves, mine across my desk. I think my laptop was fucked.

Barely able to stand, I sucked in air, and watched. He turned and bent over the end of his bed, showing off his rump, and then I saw something that made me cut off a scream. A thick dildo, glistening in lube. He probed his own pucker, tail raised high, and I saw it disappear into that deep canyon of delights. My cock ached again.

Beep Beep.

Same time every Thursday Gavin. Don't be late.

Then he sent me a close up of his cock, just as he dumped his second load with the dildo planted in his ass. I got the rear view, his tail flagging wildly, back muscles bunching, head back and mane shaking as he let out a whinny of delight.

Then the curtains closed and I was left a very tormented blue balled bull with a cock demanding attention. I went to the bathroom and took care of it; but God forgive me if I was looking at his picture while I shot, imagining the taste of that cock in my muzzle and the thick rich texture of colt spunk on my tongue.

****

He was true to his word, my tormenter. A new show each Thursday, and every time I ate my heart out and shot buckets to match his teenage loads. A month later I was sitting in front of the TV, reading reports, when the time suddenly hit me. I stood up, a little flustered, and realised my son had also stood up and looked sheepish.

"Where are you going dad?"

His voice cracked a bit, and his big brown eyes looked wary. I looked at my hooves trying not to let him see my discomfort.

"Ahhh got to send some emails for work."

"Oh...cool..."

"What are you up to?"

He seemed to stammer a little. "Uhhhh...big steam session. Got a raid planned."

"None of that is English for me Mark, but whatever."

"Cool..."

"Cool..."

We both headed upstairs in palpable disquiet.

He waved at the top of the stairs.

"Cool..."

"Yes. Whatever. Don't stay up too late Mark."

"N...no Dad..."

My son's strangeness didn't register really. I had my own worries. How to call this to a halt.

Or even, could I if I wanted to.

He was there, a little impatient it seemed, as I settled into my usual spot near the desk. The light was off, but he had a little lamp on beside his bed. Enough to illuminate him like a renaissance angel in a cathedral. If only renaissance angels had looked like this.

He got straight to it, jacking off, his hand moving easily over a lubed up cock. He was teasing tonight, edging, his cock swaying on the edge of release then gripping under the flare to quell the impending climax and instead release a spurt of pre into the night. Then again, while he rubbed his own nuts, or a nipple, licking his finger before using it to touch just the tip of his nip, or circle his areolae, or rub his piss slit and make it spurt fresh gouts of pre. He took them on his finger then, and tasted, muzzle breaking into a grin.

Something seemed to disturb him, and he reached for his phone. The grin became feral, and his fingers moved. He moved it behind himself to get a closeup of his ass and took a picture, then his thumb hit send.

And my phone did not beep.

I waited, and waited, cock in my hand, and it never came. My mind clouded, and then the blood rang in my temples. It hammered like a tolling bell. I knew what window was next to the one I was currently looking out of. Finally I remembered the geography of our own house.

Mark had his own ensuite, and the window was high up but on the wall next to me. Not wanting to believe, I pressed my ear to the wall, to hear the sounds of moaning, of groaning, and the unmistakable sound of teenage climax.

I stumbled into my own bathroom and locked the door. My cock was still hard as steel, and I jacked slow. Finally my phone beeped.

It was a picture, but not of a horsecock. A bullcock, young, thick, thicker than mine, with a big pair of nuts encased in dark leather skin, and a fat head revealed from under a stretched back foreskin. It leaked cum, a long milky trail that coated its skin and the fat testicles.

He is almost as big as you Gavin. Thicker too.

I shot before I could stop myself, cum spraying the tiles. I wiped it up with toilet paper and went to bed my brain beyond fucked. I didn't sleep though; it took me four more cums before I could. In the meantime, I checked my boy. He was sleeping, the covers thrown off in a warm evening, cock outlined in his boxers. It was thick, I mused, hating myself for the thought. Then I saw something else. Beside his bed, a used jockstrap. A familiar one, with a pouch used to holding a pair of equine nuts. They looked stained, and I realised they were coated in cum. I shuddered and closed the door, and headed to a fitful sleep with my wife blissfully ignorant beside me.

****

As always, I resolved to do something and failed to come up with the magic formula. A week passed, a week in which I went to my son's bedroom door every night determined to have 'the talk' and failed each time. Come Thursday, work at least provided some welcome relief in the form of a full on supply chain disaster that took me all day and half the night to fix.

I came home cranky, tired, and hungry, smashing a tofu burger to pieces while Marj knitted. It was a while before I became civilised enough for small talk.

"Where is Mark tonight?"

My wife looked at me quizzically, and shrugged. "Didn't he tell you? He was going out with Justin tonight, some sort of party. I told him to be back by midnight."

I grunted, then almost choked on my tofu. I checked my watch.

9:58 p.m.

"Dear, is everything allright?"

No, everything was not fucking allright. I mumbled my assurances though and exited as fast as I could up the stairs. Into the study, door closed, blind open, hoping against hope.

The light wasn't on, and I sighed, but as I watched the door opened. I hid to one side a little, not in front of the window, but able to see well enough. Why I would want to see I didn't know. Or perhaps I did.

It was Justin and Mark all right. And they were definitely in the mood for a party.

As soon as they came into the room it was on. The colt stripped my calf of his top, running his hands over Mark's chest. Bulky like mine, not as defined as the colt, but still impressive, and Justin seemed to like it. He paid proper attention to the pecs and nips, first rubbing, then squeezing. My boy mooed, his nosering jingling, eyes wide in shock. And I could not look away.

The touching became a kiss, their bodies locked, the lean colt rubbing against my calf, chest to chest. Mark removed the colt's footy top too, and they felt skin on skin, fur on fur, nipples on nipples. I remembered my first time like that , in school, the captain of the football team leading me into temptation and then into heaven. The first touch of chest on chest almost made me cum. Then the first touch of hand on cock did.

My boy was made of sterner stuff it seemed. They rubbed groins, kiss turning heated, Justin's hands on his flanks, his on the colt's back. Then the colt worked a hand steadily under Mark's waistband and into his pants, and I saw him getting a handjob through the denim.

The impatient young stallion decided he wanted more though, and undid the belt and pulled his friend's jeans down over a pair of broad hips. They sank below knee level, unheeded, and Mark returned the favour and suddenly two teenage cocks felt the tingle of evening air and the proximity of eachother. The natural progression of things continued, the kiss returned, groins plastered together, the two frotting wildly, cocks trapped against muscled bellies and eachother as nerves fired in sync.

When the colt knelt before my son I slapped a hand over my muzzle. It was just as well, because as he cupped the calf's testicles, and my boy closed his eyes in impending bliss, I saw those green stallion eyes turn to me and wink. I cried out, muffled thankfully but distinct.

A muzzle pressed to Mark's cockhead, now up and throbbing to his heartbeat. The fat head was red and raw, begging for it, and the colt obliged, lapping at the oversensitive skin and then engulfing his head slow. Down the lips flowed, over his shaft, pressed to his nuts, the thick shaft stretching a colt muzzle to its limits. Then back, inching, up and down, while a hand tickled his nuts.

Five minutes it took, probably less. Mark's hands first rested on the colt's head, playing with his mane, but by the end he had it entwined in his fingers, using the purchase to force his way deeper into the dark wet perfection of a colt muzzle. I saw the first pulse of cum, the flick of his tailtuft, and the flex of a young bullcock and the colt swallowed every drop, before letting my son drop to the bed in a sort of post orgasmic faint.

Justin let him lie there a second, jacking his own meat but not seriously, just enough to keep on the boil. He finally knelt at the end of the bed, first pulling my boy's pants completely off, leaving him half sitting naked and still hard.

The colt tried to suck him again, but it looked like it was too much. I knew the feeling, after a blow my cock was too sensitive. The colt seemed to shrug and find a better game anyway; he gripped Mark's ankles and lifted easily, so the calf was laid back with his hooves to the ceiling. Then he bent forward but not to an oversensitive cock; instead he went for the gold. I saw my son getting what I hoped was his first rimming, and he seemed to enjoy it.

I felt every lick too. The long colt tongue played him like an instrument. Just under his scrotum, circling his pucker, down his taint. Mark stared at the ceiling, eyes wide, panting, crying out, snorting, dealing with these wondrous new sensations. Justin planted his lips now right over a tight pucker and I saw Marks eyes go wider still. Tongue invaded virgin territory. He was conquered, cock leaking like a broken pipe.

Then my brain cleared rapidly as I watched Justin hook my son's hooves over his shoulder, and lined up his flare on the well licked pucker of my calf.

I managed to find the phone. Somehow I managed to type, though my fingers were covered in precum. I knew my duty.

Use a condom.

I saw him smile and reach for his phone. He shook his head.

Use a condom or I break in there and end this now.

He looked at the phone for a long second, and shrugged. From his bedside table he produced the goods, my calf waiting impatiently, and handed them to him. He was clumsy, taking a couple of goes to get the condom rolled on right, then applying way too much lube. I didn't blame him though; Id want as much as possible taking that horsemeat.

Back in position, I waited not breathing. I had one hand in my muzzle to stop me screaming, one on my cock furiously jacking. I had lost one load and a second was coming, I knew it.

Colt flare met calf pucker, and met resistance. But not forever, and suddenly he broke through and sank inside. I saw it disappear, imagining the feeling of that flare scraping over the skin of my hole, nudging my prostate, sinking in so deep.

Bull cock twitched on each new thrust, until the colt hit bottom. His first hilting. Yeah, I remembered that too. How hot, how painful, how amazing.

Then the long, patient, first withdrawl. With just the flare inside, Justin leaned over and kissed Mark. Still kissing he sank into the hilt again, and my son's hooves shook with the feelings. I shot a second time, painting the desk with bull cum.

Those pert ass cheeks were amazing again, just as they were when he fucked the stag. I could watch those dimples for ages. Two big melon sized bowls of muscle flexing as he conducted a long, slow fuck with utmost care and attention. Hips, thighs, ass, his muscles moved under skin and fur as he learned a new athletic skill, how to fuck, how to breed, how to make a bottom feel like their universe ended to be replaced by your cock taking their hole.

Breaking the kiss he leaned back and I got to see my son's first anal orgasm too, cock spurting wildly, a look of beatified surprise on his muzzle. They rested a moment before the colt began to fuck wildly, a stallion in full flight, and my poor calf just had to hold on. This was part of it too, how a top showed a bottom how to take it. He did, a little painfully, until the stallion threw his head back and whinnied and I saw his tail flagging as his nuts drew up to his body.

They lay together after, coated in a sheen of sweat, and Justin gave his friend a final climax, just an old fashioned handjob, ending with a spurt of bull milk and a long tonguekiss. I headed for bed, not wanting to hear the thud of my teenagers hooves on the carpet as he headed for his room. My phone buzzed. I could not resist.

Told you that you like to watch. How many times did you cum?

Go to sleep Justin.

Awww...his cherry was so sweet though. You told me to fuck up a storm with someone my age anyway. He moos just like you do when he cums by the way. So answer my question.

Three times.

Wow...you really do like to watch don't ya?

I sighed and put the phone away. Yeah, I fucking did. And just how the fuck was I going to get myself out of this?

****

I found one last gift from the colt the next evening. Coming home from work, I found a package addressed to me. Heading for my study, I opened it a little apprehensively. I should have been more than apprehensive.

It contained a colt jockstrap, well soiled. It looked like the one he wore last night, and I shuddered at that memory.

It also contained a condom, used, with a huge deposit of liquid spunk in the tip.

Playing with fire...

Unable to stop myself, I hefted the rubber. I thought I knew where this had come from. Oh to feel what this one had felt last night. Still...

The cum flowed freely enough. I sniffed some, the scent powerful of raw teenage horse stud, musky and potent and ripe. I licked just a little, enough to fill my snout with the scent, and without knowing exactly why, pulled out my cock.

Some colt cum, and my cock felt amazing, slick, hard, ready. I wrapped the colt's jockstrap round my meat, fabric causing the skin to tingle. Sliding along, I reached the head and gasped, the sensation incredible. I closed my eyes, remembering the sights, the plunge of colt cock into calf ass, the flex of his butt.

"Dad, I need to talk to you about something, its important and..."

Caught like a satyr in the headlights. The calf wasn't supposed to be home until late, but God was definitely a bastard right enough.

He stood in the doorway, blinking, looking down to my groin, up to my eyes, and down, his muzzle wide open, his eyes wider still.

"Dad...?"

I saw the moment he realised who the jock belonged to. His ears went out to the side, then forward, and his eyes narrowed.

"Errrr son....yeah, I think we need to talk..."

I guess I found a way to broach the subject after all.