Coach's Stallion Slut
#9 of Fetish Shorts
A submissive stallion gets on his knees for his studly coach...
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Coach's Stallion Slut
"You know you can take more than that."
The burly, draft horse coach, Coach Jones, smirked as he ground his hips forward, loose jogging bottoms only pulled low enough to free his erection and heavy, swinging balls. His bay coat was rougher in places than it would have been on a younger stallion - but that was why he had the young stud on his knees before him, leaning back against the wall of the university locker room.
"Yes..."
The stud, his star player, whimpered around his cock, the younger stallion's blonde forelock falling over his eyes. He glowed and shone in every way but Coach Jones had him there, right there and then, all for himself, shoving his dick down his throat, the fat, plump meat of a stud-cock demanding more that Troy would not have been able to take for himself if he'd been with someone, perhaps, of his own age.
Troy's head pounded, but all in a good way, his cock trapped in his workout trousers, the loose fabric doing nothing to hide the proud bulge there. Oh, he wanted it, so desperately, but coaches and students were not supposed to date and there was something in him too that thought that they probably weren't at all supposed to fuck each other's brains out either.
That didn't mean he didn't want to be there, in the locker room, the hard floor pressing up into his knees, begging for his coach's cock again and again. All he really needed was the heady slide of that fat stud-prick into his throat to forget about everything else in the world, his kind of submission another touch and break from reality that he could never have expected to glean for himself.
No, he knew what he loved, what he lusted for, and took every inch of that thick cock down his throat that he could, hacking and gulping, even though he didn't have a true gag reflex. It was one benefit to being a stallion, of course, but the feeling of something pushing down his throat like that was still wrong physically, even if right in every other way. The coach's fingers twisted into his mane, pushing on, demanding that he take it all, Troy's cheeks plumping out, trying to make room.
Yet there was something else that Coach Jones craved, lusting for him, rubbing the rougher, coarser hair on his chin, hips working.
"Unff... Get on all fours. Now."
There was no question to be had about it as his slut-stallion moaned and dropped to the ground in an instant, hips pushing back, assuming the position. It was telling of how many times over they had fucked and come together, though there was no stopping the moment as Coach Jones yanked down his joggers, exposing the pucker of his tail hole. Troy shoved his tail up and out of the way as he groaned, wanting his partner of the moment to have easy access, panting and heaving, wanting it all.
And he got it all, every inch, his coach powering over him, a large paw coming down beside his head. The thrust of that cock struck home and drove inside, slow inch after inch, stretching him out without any extra lubrication, that slutty hole taking him as well as it always did.
"You been fucking anyone else?" Coach goaded him. "You're loose..."
No, no... No, he couldn't have been loose, nickering, lowering his head, rolling his hips back. He had to grunt, had to groan, had to take every inch that Coach Jones had to offer. He craved it all, needing it, the bud of his tail hole stretching and straining, tightly clenching around his coach's dick. He groaned, nose brushing the tiled floor, submission trembling through every line of his body.
He had everything he needed as his coach's hot breath washed over the back of his neck, ruffling up the base of his mane, though he needed it all the more. He grunted and moaned and made every sound that he had never been able to make with any partner before, fucking mares and then realising, well...that he liked someone else, something else, instead.
But that was okay. That was why his coach, as he had been for so many things, was there to show him the way, grunting heavily, pushing on, the thick length of his cock burrowing deep. It knew what it wanted, driving in hard and fast, the thrusting grinds begging for a touch more, everything that the younger stud-stallion had to give and more.
All he had to deliver was the softness of his tail hole, relaxing, allowing him inside, deeper and deeper, harder and faster. Troy could have tried to rock back into those thrusts but he had already given all that he had in him, submitting with a throaty nicker, nostrils fluttering weakly.
His cock throbbed, pushed into his grey joggers, but he was not present in the moment, mind drifting, only feeling. Only the rush of orgasm, everything too much for him, spending his load, brought him back to sharp reality, breath catching, the headiness of the moment swarming him, swamping him, dragging him down into such pits of lust that he doubted he could ever claw his way back out of it.
But that was alright. That was right where he wanted to be as Coach Jones powered into him, grunting heavily, dominating him so easily that it was as if it took no effort at all from the older stud-stallion. He heaved and groaned and rolled his hips, smacking into the smaller stallion's backside, but there was no drop of cum to be held back as he finally blasted out a neigh of orgasm, slamming into him, powering and driving, a feral creature in the heat of the present moment.
His slut was there to take every drop too, deeper and deeper, his cock rammed deep, not a single pearl of creamy seed flowing out of that tight hole. He had to stay still, panting heavily, though the shuddering gasps of breath were all for Coach Jones as his hide rippled with heat, desperate for it all and taking what was his due.
His stallion slut needed to be fucked again and again and he had just the cock to train Troy right.
Troy groaned.
He'd always be the coach's slut-pony for as long as he'd have him.