Misdirection
He reconsidered his plan. It was hot and he was hung over and neither made the prospect of a six mile run very appealing. But he'd told her he was going to jog to her house and pride convinced him not to go back on either part of the plan. He choked down another glass of water, it tasted repulsively tinny as is the case the morning after serious drinking. Stashing a key for later the equine took off down the windy road.
The next forty minutes was a rhythmic beating of his feet on the ground and a throbbing in his head. His mind traced over the steps with, "This fucking sucks, this fucking sucks..."
He got to her doorstep hoping his agony would at least look impressive; with bulging pectoral veins and a glistening gray coat. Courting this mare was precarious, she was flighty and difficult to read. He had walked the fine line between subtlety and deliberateness this far, but only achieved lukewarm results.
She opened the door and gave him a peck on the cheek, leaving the donkey feeling somewhat slighted. "Good run? Hey, I tried to get ahold of you, my friend Steph just broke up with her boyfriend and she really needs me. Just stick around, I'll be back in an hour."
He managed to maintain some neutrality in his wry smirk.
"Oh yeah and Tara's here, she's fine by herself but I'm supposed to watch her." She saw in his eyes that the implicit request registered. He actually didn't mind an hour with the mare's younger sister, she was very easy to get along with. He initially felt the age differential should mean an interest gap, but Tara's youth was accompanied by tomboyishness and a lean social life.
The mare took off with a warm smile and the male again contemplated her interest. Watching her mane shift in the wind and fall over her slim lower back convinced him, once again, to tolerate the game.
He went inside the house, relieved to have the opportunity to relax out of the heat. Tara bounded down the stairs, excited to have a visitor. A smaller copy of her sister, the filly had the same slim frame and flowing hair. And a far more straightforward demeanor, he mused. She sported one of probably three swimsuits that would be on rotation throughout the summer, his summers were like that not so long ago.
"Looks like you're stuck babysitting me," said the male, "so what'll it be, boss?"
"Swimming," replied the girl, "it's hot plus you smell bad anyways." She feigned choking.
His mood instantly elevated, he tried to deadpan a scowl as he closed the gap between them and hoisted the filly over his shoulder. "And you get to test the water temperature." He stepped into the yard and lofted the flailing girl a few feet over the water before splashdown. All too happy to cool his weary muscles, the donkey hopped in after the giggling equine.
Trying to exact vengeance, Tara wrapped her arms around his thick neck in an attempt to drag him under. Unsure if etiquette demanded succumbing to his greatly outmatched opponent or resisting, he decided the latter would be more fun. He grasped her by the inexplicably small waist, plucked her from the water, and dropped her straight down. Prepared for this, the filly sank to the bottom and wrapped herself around his leg. He was struck by the feeling of her body so tightly clenching his, but he quickly recovered and executed a flawless dead fish charade so his tiny opponent could claim victory.
He waded and relaxed as the sun climbed higher. Tara dove and swam and discharged impossible amounts of energy. He stole fleeting glimpses of her sleek form and dared himself to study the boundaries of her swimwear. The male equine had always been focused on the filly's sister and, well, this one was young. But her nymphlike grace and earnestness was baring itself and he could not but admire the beauty.
At last she beached herself face down on the warm ground beside the pool. Letting his indulgent eyes have a moment of modesty, he missed the filly's deft unlacing of her bikini top. The male nearly vocalized his surprise seeing her bare back and ties splayed out. For a moment he considered possible implications of her move, but realized she was just mimicking something her big sis would do. The filly's naivete left her ignorant to nuances of romance and oblivious to the critical eyes of others.
He let a furtive gaze trail up the young horse's wiry leg to her taught rump and thick fountain of a tail raining down on her hips and bare lower back. He must have lingered in the moment because she sensed a drawn out silence and asked if he was sneaking around. Caught off guard for the first time he could only mutter indecipherably.
"Well would you come tie my top for me? I'm ready to go inside."
"Sure thing," he recovered from his lapse in focus a bit too earnestly.
The donkey retied the filly's bikini strings with the proper tension; he was familiar with the maneuver. Conceding again to Freud, physiology, or both, his gaze followed her spine past the two small points created by her pelvis, around her charcoal tail, and finally to the small gap between her buttocks and swim suit bottoms. The edification was fleeting but impossible to remove from his mind. So too was the moment he noticed her glancing at his body, more specifically the outlines created by his wet trunks.
Of course she's curious, he resigned, but at her age the curiosity is different from that of, say, a horny drunk girl. And what of his own newfound opinion of her? Was he just projecting his feelings toward the elder mare on a more convenient equivalent? Should he just find an excuse to start walking- his thoughts were interrupted.
"I'm dry, you're wet, stay at the door." She returned promptly with a towel. "You can dry those on the pool chair." He wrapped the towel around himself and kicked off the trunks, then neatly hung them. An unexpected scenario, he'd swam there before, but always had a change of clothes. He'd have to be careful with the towel, again he sensed only youthful frankness in her - this wasn't like an older girl inviting him in for coffee.
"Should I borrow a pair of pajama bottoms or something? I'm practically naked."
She scoffed. "If you want to switch with me, you're welcome to. But you're a few feet too tall for anything in mine or my sister's closet," she added hyperbolically.
"Okay okay, so what now?" He knew she already had an answer.
"Hair. Water, sun, bad." She grabbed him by the hand and led him to her bathroom, gave him a brush, and motioned to her tail. The filly worked on her mane as he gingerly stroked her tail, again stunned by her straightforwardness. Looking into the girl's eyes, he realized that she was caught off guard by the gratification of having a boy groom her. She seemed happy to evaluate the new sensations. He had seen such a look during his earliest romantic endeavors, but since forgotten. Perhaps the alacrity with which intimacy develops eclipses the more purely beautiful moments, he considered.
Afraid she might recoil from the new sensation he cut in, "So are we going to do mine next?" The idle suggestion eased her.
"No you look better all ruffly." He smirked and tossed his head, letting his own thick mane wave in what he immediately realized was a mating gesture. The male bowed his head in private embarrassment and returned to his task, almost certain she did not understand. Having groomed the ends of her tail, he began brushing its full length. To prevent her any discomfort, he wrapped his thumb and finger around the base of her tail to pull against his own grip. He eyed her for a reaction as his other fingers came to rest on her rump. The filly did not withdrawal, indeed he felt her push back ever so slightly.
The closeness felt good, and it had developed so rapidly and unexpectedly. He decided to take the lead and tugged her into the equine's adjacent bedroom. He sprawled out on the bed and let Tara rest her head on his chest. Stroking her mane he could see the disquiet melt away. "You know you're very tall for a donkey," she surprised him.
"Well thanks," a loss for a pithy reprisal. His increasingly ambitious eyes hungrily examined the filly's midriff. His gaze traversed the most pleasing topography of the female body, moving from firm abs to belly button, to hip bones, and finally the two concavities that ran down to her bathing suit.
"Sis says you're a good runner, you're lanky enough to be a horse." He knew where this was going next. "Except you got floppy ears."
The donkey chortled and rolled his eyes. "I'll assume that meant you think I'm handsome. Did you examination determine anything else?"
"I haven't finished my examination, you still have a towel on."
Within his own mind, the equine gasped. Her intonation said she was not fully committed to the implication, but it wasn't a joke either. He wasn't going to let the moment pass and he knew being coy would stifle her fleeting experimentation. Without shirking his duties as a steady pillow, the donkey raised his hips and pulled the towel aside, ardently eyeing her reaction. The young horse seemed equally shocked and excited by both her own words and the other's response. She played it cool though, and did not immediately turn to ogle the new sight.
"Yes, I see, thighs, errr sheath, and... it all seems in order." Finally continuing her 'examination' she seemed lost and unsure how to handle her first naked boy.
Rescuing the situation, the male let their interaction regress to their foundation. "I'm ready to switch clothes with you now," he jokingly echoed her previous offer while lunging playfully at the filly. Her bikini top was in his hand almost instantly and he reeled to prepare another strike. She was now back in her element and unfazed by having uncovered parts. The girl flung herself at the donkey's neck and sent him backward toward the headboard. He expected the strike, but didn't want to claim his spoils too quickly.
After several long minutes of flailing limbs and taunting and panting, the donkey pinned his opponent and slid her bottoms down her slender legs. He was briefly treated to an intimate view of the tight garment fitting sleekly over her pubic bone. But the next sight was considerably more entrancing.
The wrestling had clearly aroused new physical impulses for the girl as she had wrapped herself around the stout male and was nuzzling his chest. He ran his hand down the length of her back and gave her rump its first caress. She pressed harder against him, first with her chest, then hips. He rolled the equine onto her back and placed himself between her legs. He pressed his nose to hers, then tilted his head and met her lips. The male looked into her eyes and saw uncertainty but complete trust.
He kissed the filly again and slid briskly down until his snout was between her spread legs. He glanced up with a warming smile and met a gaze that oozed curiosity and anticipation. With their eyes locked he lapped once, gingerly with his tongue. The girl's petite rib cage heaved and her head thrust backward. The donkey repeated with a bit more pressure and she shuddered. Minding her sensitivity, he began to give her pleasure she could not have imagined the day before.
The male returned to his previous position and let the filly taste herself from his mouth. He examined her delicate shoulders and long, slim neck. Her ecstasy had aroused him completely. The equine lifted himself off her body and let her see his length. She instinctively reached for it and began experimentally handling his organ. The girl clumsily stroked it, kneaded it, and grasped it. Her touch was gratifying, as was providing her the new experience.
As the filly accustomed herself with him, they both noticed her hips occasionally pressing upward, hungering for him. He looked intensely at his mate and let her grasp on his organ fall away. He lowered himself back onto her and let his tip rest against her abdomen. She was well moistened by his licking and her own fluids. The male wrapped his arms behind the filly's back and grasped her shoulders firmly. She sensed his desire and arched her back, then giggled as she lightly wrapped her hands around his flopping ears. He smirked and then nuzzled her as he steadily slid himself into her. The filly gasped, she whinnied, she cooed as she felt herself be penetrated for the first time. The donkey moved a hand down to her rump and supported her arched lower back with his wrist.
He began a very gentle rhythm, balancing his desire to ravage with his concern for her. The girl's head reared back as her breathing met his pace, she clenched pillows between her fingers. Her panting grew in both pleasure and pain, and this drove him to quickly approach edification. His passion soon became unreigned and he thrust into her with all the power and pace that his large, sinewy leg muscles could offer. The filly was now exhaling overwhelmed and plaintive gasps with his savage rhythm. At last he loosed a feral grunt and felt his muscles propel dose upon dose of his seed into her. The stimulation overwhelmed the girl and she surged with ecstasy, driving her sore innards one last time onto his rigid shaft and cascade of virile fluid.