Why the Boss is Always Relaxed After Lunch
Ethan leaned against the truck and sneered vengefully at the sky. The desert sun had turned the temperature past 100 and it wasn't even noon yet. The tabby learned quickly to regret his move when the calender claimed spring had sprung and the thermometer believed it was chucked onto the surface of the sun. Luckily for Ethan, a shrill whistle brought all work to a halt for the morning.
Construction work was hard enough on it's own, and the sweltering, dry heat would only make it worse. So the foreman, one Quincy Vance, found himself quite ingratiated with his team for calling extra breaks and early lunches when the asphalt began to sizzle. The feline perched against the dirty pickup was especially fond of him; then again he had a soft spot for herculean equines.
He couldn't help but stare as the zebra strode away from what would become a palatial home for some lucky family. His overalls covered surprisingly little when compared to the expanse of surface area on his broad torso. The dusty denim didn't even hide the abs neatly defined by a once-white shirt worn several sizes too small for just that reason. Quincy was obviously proud of the body he built through dedicated hours at the gym and rewarding days on site. If he wasn't he wouldn't toss his powerful shoulders as he walked or gave Ethan that sly look which could only scream: "Intimidating, isn't it?"
The cat fought back the urge to drool before he lowered his eyes to scan the familiat legs marching toward him. However, instead of admiring the tightly confined sinew of quardiceps designed to propel tanks rather than a mere mortal body, Ethan stared at a button fly left wide opn to reveal shaded meat shifting without the support of the jockstrap he would have assumed his supervisor would wear. it was free and massive, as free as it could be in tight overalls, and, even from this angle, Ethan could see it glisten with sweat.
It took every modicum of restraint in the tabby's body to break his gaze away and flash his boss an innocent grin. Quincy nickered in return, as was his customary greeting, and clapped a heavy hand on Ethan's back. The cat was big by most standards, in fact despite the hint of classic feline litheness, he'd served as "the muscle" all his life. But he always felt small around Quincy. That's why he liked him so much.
For both of them, lunch was waiting in the truck bed so when the titanic zebra reached in, he extracted two boxes with a cheery grin. He muttered something about the heat and air conditioning but Ethan was entirely too busy not looking at the package still in plain view and still very naked to parse a complete sentence. So he just agreed an let himself be ushered into the cab.
The cat climbed in quickly, spreading his own strong legs to avoid the gearshaft but he couldn't get to the passenger side before he was beseiged on either side. Just as his legs were spreading the far door opened and the once empty space was filled with a draft horse by the name of Lafferty. Lafferty, with his rich brown fur and orange dyed mane, was built much like the zebra squeezing in through the door on the other side. The most obvious difference was the beer gut hiding the horses steely abs and giving him a less imposing profile.
It was a bit like being a kitten again, squeezed in between these powerhouses of equine flesh. Well if it wouldn't have been if he wasn't being scraped to death in a very adult way by his zipper, he'd lost all hope of feeling small before that ever happened. The air conditioning clicked on mere moments after all three bodies were wedged into the cab designed for much smaller men, circulating the air filled with dirt, sweat and sun warmed hogie then the trio bgan to eat in companionable silence. Despite himself, Ethan ate quickly and watched as his associates began to agrue about the radio.
Of course for Ethan, watching meant stealing glances at the two horse crotches. It was common knowledge that Lafferty didn't wear underwear. "After all, ye ne'er wear 'em with ye kilt," he'd say as loudly as possible at every opportunity in his worst Scotish accent. That knowledge only made it more piteous that he could only see one cock for lunch. So he made himself content watching the dark flesh inside his bosses denim and trying to make out an outline in his co-worker's heavy fabric.
But after a while, it seemed he was doomed to see nothing from the nigh-exhibitionist and just when Ethan was ready to give up, he felt something heavy fall onto his leg. He turned quickly and blanched as he witnessed a slab of zebra dick sloppily bounce off his thigh. He checked for a lecherous look or some predatory glare, maybe a threat for his job or demeaning jibe at his sexuality but Quincy was just munching on his sandwich, bobbing his head as his fellow equine tuned into a hair band singing veiled innuendo.
The cat looked away from the straight face and down to the monstrous flesh in his lap. It's owner flexed that special muscle that makes cock jump and it flopped its way further up Ethan's lap. No dire threats. No perverse demands. No lewd harrassment. The zebra didn't even betray his sandwich. It was just an insistent request from a male who wanted some physical attention. The tabby glanced over to Lafferty; maybe he was in on it, maybe they'd worked out some sort of plan. The draft simply watched the guys outside while stuffing his mouth with chips. There was nothing else to do then. He set down his last bite of hogie and curled his fingers around the obsidian tube steak. It squished nicely in his grip so he turned his wrist so the heavy head would swing around and around in playful loops until it grew hard enough to stroke. The obelisk was thicker around than Ethan'shand could reach and towered toward it's owner's pecs; it was massive and majestic and the cat felt lucky to get to play with it.
Quincy was a kind fellow and gave his workers hour long lunches. One of his men's favourite traits. So with less than ten minutes wasted on eating, the feline was in no hurry to move things along. His fingers slid slowly to the base, tracing a bold vein which pulsed warmly against his touch. His other hand reached for the open fly still housing the balls which by all rights should be too big for a lesser man to carry between his legs. But His paw when the exact opposite direction he meant to send it. Instead of feeling the monsterballs belonging to his zebra employer he found his fingers drifting toward Lafferty's tented kilt. It was a beautiful sight once Ethan wrenched his eyes away from the cock already in his hand: heavy cloth clinging limp around a a heavy, growing shaft, quivers in time with the horse's heartbeat shaking the shiny studs decorating it and a dark wet spot creeping out from the tip.The tabby smiled up at Lafferty, even knowing it would go ignored, and let him guide his hand into the swampy confines of his groin. He grabbed hold of the fat cock throbbing within and resumed his slow strokes on the pair of huge horse cocks.
Ethan breathed in their growing scents with a happy, silent shiver. THe mix was brutish and manly, nothing subtle about it. Just the smell of hot, sweaty, horny males. Ethan could almost feel the boggy air charging through his body to pool in his crotch. It was the most viciously arousing feeling, proven by the threat of his jeans to rip around his erection and the bubbling spurts of precum staining through his jockstrap and the thick denim. His coworkers, though were out-producing him by an order of magnitude each. Gushing rivers of warm juices jetted out of the steely cocks, soaking his hand in a thick layer of precum. He looked back and forth, marveling at how small his big meaty hands looked in comparison and eventually his eyes drifted upward to either, chiseled face. They were definitely enjoying themselves but they were definitely trying to hide it from the rest of the site so the feline sighed and picked up his pace.
He squeezed the flared heads on the upstrokes and massaged gently on the down, twisting his hands around to give them nice tight corkscrews to enjoy as they finished their sandwiches. It didn't take long for the musclebound fellows to really get caught up despite themselves. They nicked and groaned quietly at first but the sounds grew as they shot more of their liquid arousal into the damp, musky air. Soon even the smell of sweat was masked totally by the meaty stank of sex and horse pre. Ethan couldn't help but work faster. His own excitement was starting to take over his hands, making them squeeze with less concerted effort and with greater sexual abandon. Veins strained against his fingers and each shaft jumped like racers at the bit.
A purr went unheard even by the one making it as the sounds of sloppy handjobs and splatters on the windshield filled the little cabin. All the mess and the writhing from a pair of hands. It would have made Ethan laugh if he wasn't so busy trying to make it a bigger scene. He was so far gone that the only reason he hadn't ripped off his clothes and shoved both dicks in his mouth was the promise of both blasting off so he could see it. He breathed the powerful horse sex again then he found his two pillars of need ramming into his grip.
Lafferty started first, his plentiful belly jiggling a bit with his desperate thrusts, but the zebra wasn't far behind. It was rewarding to see such sexual fervour, they needed to cum and Ethan was the one to do it for them. They spent this whole time trying to be non-chalant but Ethan was able to force them out of their facades and fuck his hands like wild beasts. So in thanks, he gripped tight, holding still best he could and watched their flares swell and the cumholes on the end expand with their impending climax.
Finally, with a pair of wild neighs the equines hit their orgasms in unison. Cum erupted from their dicks like white bolts from rivet guns and hit the windshield so hard it quivered and even cracked around the edges. Their first shots seemed to last forever but in the lull between them and the second volley, the horse on Ethan's Right wanked itself free of his grip, jekred hard with both its owners hands. The cat looked to see what was going on but was greeted instead with a faceful of steaming hot cum. He barely shut his eyes in time as Lafferty's nut rushed around his head like a flood. He sputtered and spit for a minute trying to get his bearings and in the chaos lost his grasp on the zebra's cock as well but Quincy took charge of it quickly and laughed as his workers found their rhythm, working together to make sure Ethan drank and was soaked in more than his fair share of horse cum.
Meanwhile the dark pillar which started this whole mess was painting the entire cabin in a thick coat of white jizz, grunting and whinnying in ecstasy while the cat moaned for the same. He was in heaven in that moment; so sexually fulfilled that he didn't even need to cum anymore. Cum on his face, his chest, raining down on his head, dominating every one of his senses while he basked in the pleasure of a job well done. He reveled in the thicker texture and the sweeter tastes of horse cum. He promised himself that next boyfriend would be a horse. It was a solemn oath in front of the god of the fags and these messengers the cocks of his colleagues. He loved the way it rolled down his cheeks and it stcuk between the roof of his mouth and his tongue. He need more and more but all too soon the party was over.
He rubbed his eyes, slowly, making little headway thanks to the amount of spooge on his fists. The damage was spectacular and he wished he had a camera to immortalize it but alas he just had the inevitable stains to remind him. It seemed some sort of miracle occurred and his "molesters" were left relatively untouched; a few spots where their asses met the seat, a distinct halo of wet around Quincy's fly and a few drops on Lafferty's back. He couldn't imagine how it was possible but some how it only excited him more. He licked his lips, swallowing another big load of cum as they laughed among each other and promised him drinks at the bar tonight for being "a good sport". Of course, he was a little less of a good sport when he realized they left him with the clen up detail.
Bastards. Sexy, delicious bastards.