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"Aurel! No! I'm taking this one!"

"Just take that one instead."

"No! It's too heavy for me! I told you!"

"I already picked this one u--hey! Atlas! Leave it alone!"

"It's mine! Dad! Daaad! Make Aurel carry something else...!"

Hest turned, his arms filled with armoire, and glared at his sons. "Hey! Enough!" The arguing stopped, but the two teenage horses continued trying to tug the box of records away from one another, and their father stamped one foot. "What did I just say? Atlas!"

"But Daaaad!" The younger of the twins looked over in despair. "I can't carry the other thing! It's too heavy!"

His brother shrugged. "Got to work out more, then," he said, getting a kick to his shin for his trouble. "Ow! Fuck you! Dad!"

"Aurel! Language!"

"Dad!"

Hest stamped his foot again, harder. "Enough! Aurel: give your brother the box. Atlas: stop whining."

Silence fell, and Hest chose to ignore the dirty looks his sons exchanged. They'd had a difficult few weeks, but so had he, and he just didn't have the energy to mediate another of their spats. He knew he should, though. They deserved better parenting than merely being told off. If he'd been up to it, he should have sat them down and told them that there'd been a lot of change in all their lives in the last few weeks, and that was bound to cause friction and disagreements, but that they needed to remember that all of them were going through the same thing. They had to work together to get through this instead of pulling one another down.

But it wouldn't work. Not now. Hest knew he couldn't give the words the necessary weight to be taken seriously when what he actually felt like saying was Boys, can you please get along for just a while by yourselves because your Dad's really fucking horny, and he desperately needs some alone time to jerk off before he can focus on things again.

With a final firm stare to remind them that he meant business, he turned and walked down the ramp leading out the back of the moving vehicle. His arms were aching from holding the heavy armoire, but if he put it down now, he'd just have to pick it up again--and his back would not like that.

The front door to the house had swung mostly closed, and the stallion grunted in annoyance. He was about to attempt a risky centre-of-mass balancing act on one leg to kick it open with the other when a genial voice behind him made him tense up.

"Need some help?"

The sharp retort already forming on Hest's lips died as he spun around to find a tall, dark-haired man standing at the end of the driveway with one hand tucked into a pocket and a borderline-smug smile on his handsome face. There was no other car parked nearby; he must have walked over from a nearby house. The horse's eyes whisked up and down the man's form before he could stop them. He was well-built, and wore expensive clothes that accentuated that fact. High cheekbones gave him an arch look, and his yellow eyes glistered like dollops of honey.

One of the new neighbours was a werewolf, then--and a hot one at that.

The werewolf raised his eyebrows when the horse didn't respond, and Hest quickly smiled.

"Sure," he said. "Thanks."

The man pushed the door open and preceded the horse into the house to hold it open as the equine struggled through the entranceway, scraping a knuckle on the doorframe as he went through.

"Fuck!" he exclaimed. "Shit! Owwww..."

"You alright?"

Hest nodded to the werewolf and staggered to one side, lowering the armoire halfway to the ground before dropping it the rest of the way with a crash that made him wince. "Yeah." He sucked on the injury for a moment, then offered the hand to the man before pausing. "Heh. Sorry." He switched to the other, forcing an awkward off-hand shake that the man's easy smile took in stride. "Hest. Nice to meet you, uh...?"

The werewolf's grip was firm and preternaturally warm. "Fantus," he answered. "Pleased to meet you too, Hest. Welcome to the neighbourhood."

"Thanks."

As the stallion's sons followed in after the two males, Hest clapped a hand onto their respective shoulders. "And these two troublemakers are Aurel and Atlas."

Fantus chuckled, exposing the long canines at the corners of his mouth. "Hello, boys," the werewolf said. "Welcome to Silver Lakes."

Vaguely murmured greetings emerged from the twins, rising in volume and clarity when their father squeezed their shoulders slightly.

"These two can get quite raucous out on the yard," Hest said, "so if it ever gets too much, let me know. I'll make them mow your lawn."

"Dad..." Atlas whined.

"Atlas, you can't opt-out of garden work already."

"No, Dad. My arms are getting sore."

"Oh." With a final firm pat, the horse let his sons go. They hurried away down the passageway, and the werewolf chuckled.

"Twins?" he asked.

"You can tell?" Hest was surprised. They weren't identical, and most people were surprised to hear they were twins at all.

"Just a guess. That, or adopted. They're the same age--"

Hest waited for the sentence to end, but that was it. The werewolf's intonation had made it sound like he was going to keep speaking. "Yeah, though Aurel's proud of being a whole two minutes older."

"What year are they in at school?"

"Final."

"Mmh. Tricky time to move around."

The horse sighed. "Yeah. Not exactly a...a choice."

It wasn't a topic he felt like covering in any more detail than that, so it was a relief when the werewolf picked up on that--or didn't care enough to ask. Either suited the stallion.

Fantus stuck one thumb into a pocket on his jeans and hiked the other at the truck outside. "Need any more help shifting stuff inside?" he asked. "I've got time."

"Thanks, yeah. That'd help a lot."

With the werewolf's help, the pace of moving in sped up considerably. Hest, not in much of a conversational mood at first, was happy to let the werewolf talk and add his two terse cents only when needed. The other male kept things mostly light, at least, telling Hest about the neighbourhood and the city, asking what school the boys would be attending, and recommending restaurants and entertainment.

After a good twenty minutes of battling a queen mattress up the stairs and into the master bedroom, Hest excused himself and went into the bathroom to wash his face and get a drink of water. He heard Fantus picking at the window latch in the room next door, and then a breeze was brushing along his cheek. There was a soft thwoomp as something heavy collapsed onto the bed.

"So," Fantus drawled, "is your wife arriving later, or...?"

The question trailed off at just the right speed to imply the rest, and Hest felt his insides clench. The exertion and harmless chatter had almost let him forget about all that shit. He braced his hands against the edge of the sink and stared at his reflection in the mirror, then down at his right hand. Every time he'd put his fingers around the gold band to pull it off, anxiety had come thundering along, making breathing difficult and his hands tremble. He'd left it on and told himself he'd do it when it didn't matter anymore. But even now, with the documents signed and the ring transformed into a quiet lie, he just couldn't. Because he felt like when he finally pulled that ring off, he was basically confirming to the whole world that he was...that he...

Well, were you gonna keep it a secret forever?

"No, she's... she's not in the picture anymore." The silence that followed was even more awkward than the question had been, and Hest grimaced. "Uh...yours?"

The male chuckled. "No wife--but my husband will be home later."

Hest stared at his reflection as a hope he'd not dared to grasp slithered away. A vein in his forehead began to throb, and he took a few deep breaths, then splashed his face one more time and walked back into the bedroom. Fantus lay on his side on the plain mattress, ankles crossed, picking idly at a fingernail. His jeans showed off what might merely be the bend of the fabric--or the bulge of a generous cock. Hest had shot sidelong glances at it several times in the last couple of hours and still couldn't decide which it was.

Fantus smiled at him as he reappeared, but there seemed to be a touch more smirk in the twist of his mouth now than before. "He might drop by sometime with a little something to say hi. He loves to bake, and he's awfully big on properly welcoming new friends."

"Oh. That's very kind."

"Do you prefer fudge or cookies?"

"Uh...the boys like cookies, so...I guess that."

"Great." The werewolf slapped his palm against the bed and then hopped back to his feet. "I'll make sure to let him know...what you like."

"Thanks."

The corners of Fantus' mouth rose a little higher, starting to resemble the sort of smile you might see under a street light on a corner. The hope that had slithered out of Hest's mind moments earlier crept hesitantly back, unsure if it should. The guy had just said he was married...but he was also staring at Hest with a renewed intensity that didn't look like simple friendliness. Hest dared to match the look for a few moments, then let his eyes slide away. It felt...shit. He didn't know! This was all too fucking new to him.

Beyond telling the boys and Jeanne, the most he'd done was log onto some chat rooms and stare at the names as if they'd magically help him make sense of himself with no further action required from his end. All of this was new to him. For all he knew, the werewolf had been giving him signals all day that he just didn't know how to read. With mares, he could simply lift his lip and smell...but with guys? Fuck knew. He might make a simple pass at the werewolf and get his throat ripped out an hour later by a jealous husband.

The werewolf, thankfully, seemed to get the gist of his awkward silence and walked towards the door, merely patting the horse on the shoulder as he went past.

"Shall we finish up?"

The rest of the moving in was thankfully interspersed only by the same safe and shallow conversation as before. Still, at several points, Hest looked up at or turned towards Fantus to see glancing away from what could only have been stares aimed at the horse's rear...or crotch. Far too often to simply be a coincidence. After the lounge suite was moved in, marking the end of the process, both males took a break to pant and wipe sweat from their faces. Hest took the opportunity to remove his shirt, exposing his muscular chest and thick midriff, and made a point of watching the werewolf as he did so. Fantus gave him a frank and shameless appraisal, then grinned.

"You look after yourself, hm, horse?"

Hest shrugged. "I could do more. I try to get some cardio in a couple times a week." He flexed his shoulders. "Today will probably count as a week's exercise, though."

"Heh. Guess it's just those horse genes, then."

"They definitely have their advantages."

The street-corner smile returned. "Definitely."

The horse flicked his ears awkwardly, then gestured at the werewolf. "Where do you work out? I should really get back into a more regular habit."

Fantus smirked. "Don't have to. Upside to being a werewolf." He grinned, showing off his long canines again. "After every transformation, it just resets me to...this." He gestured at his near-perfect body. "And three weeks ain't enough time to fuck it up before I change again. So."

"Shit." Hest shook his head. "Luck of the draw."

"Hey, now. Don't act like you got nothing out of your draw, stallion." Fantus nodded knowingly at Hest's crotch, and the horse blushed and fluttered his ears.

"True. Heh."

The werewolf stared at him a moment longer and seemed about to say something--but stopped when Aurel came clattering down the stairs and peered through the balustrades at them. Hest's son seemed momentarily taken aback by his father's shirtlessness, and Hest cocked his head at him.

"Yes, Aurel?"

"Um." The colt found his tongue. "Where're the consoles, Dad?"

"The consoles?"

"The game consoles."

Hest looked around at the forest of boxes. "I don't know, Aurel! Did you label it?"

"Atlas says he did. He says it was a brown box."

"All the boxes are brown, Aurel."

"No, but a...a different brown..."

Fantus coughed, and Hest looked over to see the werewolf standing formally.

"I...should be off."

"Oh! Sure." The guy had been about to say something, though, right? It wasn't just in his head? "Thanks a lot for your help, Fantus."

"Oh, it's my pleasure, Hest. Glad to help a new face in the neighbourhood get settled. We're all friends here."

Hest pointed at the kitchen. "I've got some beers in a cooler box if you want? Before you go?" Beer was a start. He could invite the guy to stand outside with him on some pretext, where they'd be alone, and maybe once he'd finished his bottle, he'd find the courage to ask him if all the looks he'd been giving Hest meant that--

"Mmm." The werewolf looked at his watch. "I should probably be getting home. The man's getting back soon." He smiled. "But, another time."

"Sure. Another time." Now he was just reading things into every word. Fuck's sake. It was like being in high school all over again, except he wasn't popular this time.

Hest followed Fantus to the front door and said his farewells, then watched the werewolf's firm ass walking away for probably a few too many seconds before shutting the door. There was an ache in his balls, he realised: deep and throbbing. Worse than not having regular sex was finally wanting to cum, after so long...and being cockblocked by his own brain over a handsome neighbour.

Fuck this new Hest.

"Dad?"

He squinted at Atlas. "I don't know where the consoles are, Atlas."

"No, I found those. But what's for dinner?"

Not cock. "What have we got?"

"I don't know."

"Well, go and look, Atlas, and then you will know." The throb in his nuts was distractingly regular.

His son turned on the spot and peered towards the kitchen. "We, um, we have pasta...and, um...some fruit..."

"I can't make dinner out of those, Atlas."

"I know, but you said I must look, and I did look and--"

"Look properly, Atlas!"

"I did!"

Hest bit back fiercer words and clenched his eyes shut. Usually, he could deal with Atlas and his unique way of doing things, but right now, he just...he just fucking couldn't. He had to get away, he had to be alone, he had to..._ _

"...Dad?"

Later. Later, for sure. After the boys.

Hest signed deeply and reopened his eyes, then patted Atlas on the head.

"Come, then. Let's go and look together."

---

Hest managed to assemble a horrible-looking amalgam of stale tortilla chips, savoury mince and chopped peppers that ended up tasting mostly fine. The boys, to their credit, would eat anything that wasn't actively bubbling on their plates, so the only noises they made were grunts of satisfaction and burps that he didn't even have the energy to caution them over. He finished a beer off while they were all at the table and then opened another once his sons got up to go and play games on the television.

As he drank, he watched them. The food had helped; while his balls still desperately needed to be emptied, he felt he could let them wait just a little longer to let his sons feel like their dad was actually around. The boys bickered quietly about something, and then some sort of fighting game appeared on the television. Within a few moments, Aurel and Atlas' characters were battling one another to the death atop some garish re-creation of a crashing airship. The twins argued almost constantly, but they were close as only family could be, and sometimes Hest was a little envious of the bond they had. Of course, he would always be their dad...but to be one of a pair of twins was something special. You couldn't just stop being a twin. You couldn't realise something about yourself that dissolved twinhood and made you have to give up your middle-aged suburban life and start all over again.

He loved his sons deeply, and he knew they loved him too; they'd both elected to move with him, after all. And in moments like this, when the beer's buzz kicked in, and his sons were distracted by entertainment, it almost felt like nothing had really changed. You just had to ignore the new house, the salty coastal air, the unpacked boxes still sitting everywhere...and the missing parent. It was going to be a while before things truly felt normal again, and he was going to have to set the standard for that. Things would be hard enough for the twins at a new school midway through their final year; the last thing they needed was their dad going to pieces at the same time. So he had to do whatever it took to keep things together for the next six months. When the boys had graduated, then maybe he could schedule time for a minor breakdown. Not now, though. Not yet.

He finished the second beer. For now, he'd have to make do with the next best thing.

The hot shower was a relief after the day's sweaty exertions, and the fluffy dressing gown he pulled on after felt like a hug. The bottle he pushed into one pocket fit it neatly, and he walked across the upstairs landing from his bedroom to another door, set at an odd angle into the wall. It opened into a room that sat squarely on a back corner of the house.

Hest slipped inside and shut the door, standing still for a moment, listening. He could just make out his sons arguing as they played games in the living room downstairs. They'd be busy a while yet, hopefully, but just in case...

He turned the key in the lock.

The horse had earmarked this room for his new office the moment he saw it. The exterior-facing walls were mainly glass: huge windows stretching from floor to ceiling. It gave an unparalleled view out over their yard, a bit of the neighbour's yard, and the undeveloped national park they backed up against. In time, he'd set up his workspace to let him stare out over the back fence and onto the river and trees and mountains beyond. For now, the desk sat in disassembled pieces against one wall, and only his plush office chair sat in lonely assembled splendour on the floor.

Hest eased into it, wincing as the chair groaned like it was an extension of his body. He'd probably overexerted during the move, and he did not look forward to finding out what parts of himself would be yelling at him when he woke up the next day. But that would have to be Future Hest's problem. His hand fished into one pocket of his dressing gown and pulled free the almost empty bottle of schnapps he'd been hanging onto since before the move. His tiny, personal celebration...for surviving.

"Welcome to the rest of your life, horse," he sighed, swallowing half of the bottle's contents in one gulp, his face scrunching up as the liquid burned down into his belly. "Shit!" Maybe he shouldn't pretend he could still drink like a colt. Beers were easy, but Jeanne hadn't liked it when he drank spirits, so he was out of practice. Jeanne hadn't enjoyed a lot of things, though. Even before he'd told her about his self-realisation, she'd not been one for having much fun, or drinking...or even fucking.

Hest downed the rest of the bottle.

As the empty container clinked to the floor and the strong alcohol got to work finishing off whatever parts of him the beer had missed, he whisked a flap of his gown aside, letting the air stroke his sheath and partly dropped cock. He was so pent up that that simple contact already felt like soft fingers running across his sensitive skin. He groaned and let his head fall back, clenching his hand into a fist. He wanted to grab his dick and jerk off as fast as he could until his balls inverted in their haste to empty themselves of every drop of cum he'd had to hold back in the last two weeks...but his stupid fucking brain also knew that if he was this pent up, then teasing it out just a little longer would make the final orgasm so much better.

He glanced around the floor, checking for anything he might hurt himself on if he passed out, then shuffled a little in the seat and tucked one hand under his balls.

Electricity danced across his scrotum the moment his palm made contact, and he shivered as his balls made a run for his body cavity, then crept back down like skittish waterfowl. The feeling of those giant orbs shifting about was so fucking good. He ran his middle finger along his taint as he cradled them, snorting with desire at the pleasure of the light touch. He could just about fit both balls in one hand, but anyone with smaller hands would have to make more of an effort. Especially with how fucking full they were just then.

His cock was halfway out already, laying across his wrist and hanging down like a sleepy snake. He lifted it with his free hand and stroked it a bit, groaning at the feeling of the warm, firm flesh. One finger teased open his piss-slit and picked up a drop of pre-cum; he quickly lifted it to his mouth and smeared the flavour across his lips. So good. Fuck, he'd been doing that all his life, and it had still taken him a couple decades to figure out what he was.

"Idiot", he growled. He didn't want to think about this shit now. He just wanted to have a good wank. Fucking brain...!

Some unexpected motion in the corner of his eye pulled his attention to the windows overlooking the neighbour's yard. While trees obscured most of the view of that property, there was a spot near the end of the garden that could see straight up into his new office--and he into it. He'd noted the fact earlier, seeing only a garden shed and part of a pool...but now a person was there as well. Another neighbour. Hest quickly flipped his dressing gown closed again. He would have to put up curtains or something if this was to be his regular jerk-off location.

The neighbour in question was a wolf, and for a second Hest thought it might be Fantus in his other form...but the next full moon was at least a week away still. Besides, this wolf was too normal sized to be a werewolf; they were hulking things when transformed, taller even than Hest. If "normal" could honestly be applied to the fit, broad-shouldered male busy cleaning the pool with long, bored strokes of a pool brush. He was shirtless, and every thrust of the cleaning tool made his back and arm muscles flex in intriguing ways that did nothing to ease the state of Hest's dick. He had oddly large ears that looked to be pierced along the lower edges, and a ruff of dark fur along the back of his neck and around his shoulders. A trail of that same fur ran down from his throat and down his lighter-coloured chest, thinning as it went until it disappeared into his pants. He couldn't be over twenty-five.

This must be the husband. It seemed that Fantus had used his good looks and perfect body to snag a very pretty young thing for himself.

When the wolf switched sides to finish cleaning the rest of the pool, his bored expression drifted up to Hest's office. The stallion saw the wolf start with surprise when he found the horse looking back at him, and for a few seconds, the two of them stared motionlessly at one another. Eventually, the wolf raised one hand in greeting, and Hest hesitantly responded. The wolf had a beautiful face, with large eyes looking seductively out from under a dark brow and a muzzle as pale as his chest--except for a cute dark splotch at the very end. Sexy. Very sexy. The stallion was suddenly more painfully aware of the size and presence of his half-hard cock than he'd ever been. The dressing gown was loose and generous, sure--but right now, so was Hest. As soon as the wolf returned to his task, the horse tugged more of the fabric around his crotch until he felt sufficiently obscured. Then, with the basics of modesty catered for, he relaxed to enjoy the show.

And what a show it was.

If Hest had had any remaining doubts about the wolf being Fantus' husband, they'd have been quashed by the change in his neighbour's behaviour. Once he was aware of his audience, the wolf began to treat the pool cleaning as less of a chore to be completed as quickly as possible, and more of a partner in a hastily assembled erotic double act. While Fantus had seemingly been content to simply eye-fuck Hest, his husband had fewer hang-ups. If anything, he seemed to want to make a statement.

One that read: kindly admire this fine fucking ass, Mr Stallion.

The wolf cleaned the rest of the pool as if he were getting a dollar tucked into his underwear for every sweep of the brush. There was absolutely no need for his tail to swish about as it did, but Hest wasn't going to complain. At the end of each thrust, the wolf would lean forward--far forward--to make sure the brush reached the far side of the pool. With his ass lifted into the air and his tail flagged: neither action needed for what he was doing, but profoundly appreciated by the leering stallion nonetheless. Even from a distance, Hest could see the smoothness of the lupine's ass-cheeks. After a few seconds, the wolf would tug the brush back towards himself and stand upright again, clutching the pole hard enough to make his arms bulge, and slide it along his clavicle like a different sort of pole.

Hest watched the display with horny delight--and growing arousal. His dressing gown soon showed a noticeable bulge, and his attempts to subtly hide it by pushing more fabric towards the middle did not go unnoticed. In between lifting his ass for inspection, the wolf shot glances at the horse that lingered for quite a while...and lingered longer and longer the larger Hest's bulge grew. When the stallion's horniness finally overcame his self-control, and he openly laid a hand on his crotch, the wolf, too, abandoned any pretence of cleaning the pool further. Tossing the brush to one side, he walked towards the stallion until he was hidden from sight from anyone except Hest by the large shed. Staring straight up at the horse next door, he set one paw very deliberately onto his crotch and began rubbing it with a massive, horny grin on his face.

These, Hest decided, were fucking awesome neighbours.

He snorted lustfully, groping himself as he took in the sight of the sexy wolf openly enjoying his body. Having this stranger's eyes on him felt so fucking good. The wolf looked at him like Jeanne had initially, and it made both his ego and his cock swell. It made him think that he still had all that stuff his twenty-year-old self had had: the body, the looks, the attitude. The raw, dripping sex appeal of a prime-of-his-life stallion that made every mare in sight--and, if he thought back with renewed insight, no small number of other stallions, too--try to get close to him. Before Jeanne. Before marriage. Before two kids and a belly and fetlocks that hurt if he walked too fast. Back when he was not much younger than that wolf down there. Back when all he wanted to do, all day and night, was fuck.

Jeanne's gone now, though. And the twins will be soon, too. And then it'll just be the two of us, staring one another down.

My confused, dick-loving ass--and the rest of my life.

But that's what he'd wanted, right? That's why he'd moved away from all the memories--good and bad--in the old place. Nothing to tie him back to that Hest. The shitty one. He could do with the rest of his years whatever he liked. All he'd known for sure was that that wouldn't include a second marriage...but maybe it had the potential for more than that. Perhaps he still had a spark of Hest the Stud burning inside him, and perhaps some people would still react to it like they used to. People were into dads, now, right? That was a thing? Well, you didn't get more daddy than having a couple kids. And it wasn't like his dick had gotten any shorter since then. And sure, he was huskier in a lot of places than he used to be...but he'd never lost the strength underneath. Even the horny that had practically gone into hibernation with Jeanne was waking back up...and it was hungry.

As hungry as a wolf.

A grin formed on Hest's face as he stared down at his nameless voyeur. It'd be supremely cruel to deny his audience what they'd come to see, and he was not a cruel horse. Getting to his feet, using one hand to hold the flaps of his dressing gown together, the stallion walked up to the window and placed one palm flat against it. The wolf's eyes widened and the hand at his crotch slowed, waiting to see what the stallion would do. Hest's grin widened, and he stared in silence at the wolf for a few seconds, savouring the power he had over him. If he turned back around and sat down again--or, worse, left the room--he somehow knew the lupine would be devastated. Probably stand there for fifteen minutes more, hoping the stallion would return. And when he accepted that he wouldn't, he'd probably go back inside and ask his handsome husband to fuck him within an inch of his life, trying to pretend the werewolf's knot was even half as thick as Hest was...

He twitched his dressing gown aside, then nickered with pleasure when the wolf's jaw dropped at the reveal of the size of the stallion's long, mottled member. Hest let his penis hang still for a few moments, then shook his hips a little to make it swing. He knew--from many experiments in front of a mirror as a colt--that motion was what really sold the size of it. It seemed too thick if it wasn't moving: like he'd stuck a prosthetic over his actual dick. But when it swung, and that mass of meat tugged on the skin of his sheath and lower belly, you could tell it was all real. That Hest's endowment was just ridiculously thick, even for a stallion.

Which, based on how the wolf's eyes almost fell out of their sockets, seemed to appeal to him very much.

Hest took his cock in hand and began stroking it, keeping the smirk on his face. He moved his nose a little closer to the glass, snorting to make it fog up, then letting it clear. Then snorting again. He didn't need words. Stallion horny. The wolf's one hand was inside his pants now--and then the pants were gone. Loosened and dropped to the wolf's ankles in the blink of an eye. Hest froze, his hand midway along his length, a flash of guilt and uncertainty shooting through him at so openly ogling another guy's naked husband...but both Fantus and the wolf seemed extremely comfortable with showing off. And the wolf had had many opportunities to leave. And...

And I fucking need this.

As if he could read his mind, the wolf gave Hest a few moments to take in all of what he had just put on display. Hest could trace the rest of the wolf's treasure trail now: it thickened up again as it crossed the wolf's Adonis belt, before merging neatly into the top of a dark and very generous sheath which had swollen to contain the impressive girth of wolf knot growing inside it. A shiny crimson cock-rocket stuck proudly out of the end of the sheath, bobbing in the air in time with the wolf's pulse--and with the heavy balls below it. They could barely fit between the lupine's thick thighs, it seemed, and jostled against one another for position as their master shifted about. And when the wolf gripped the base of that thick sheath and started masturbating it--making his cock thicken and lengthen even more, deepening in colour as it grew--the balls came along for the ride, bouncing heavily in an echo of Hest's heavy cock-swing earlier. Hot, young, and hung: Fantus had found himself a real boy-toy.

When the wolf raised an eyebrow at him--as if asking if what he saw was up to scratch--Hest responded by snorting on the glass again, redoubling his grip on his cock and pressing the fat, blunt head against the glass to leave a gooey trail of pre-cum. The wolf's tongue dropped from his mouth and his large eyes lidded over with lust, making the stallion grin again. He leaned forward to press his entire length against the glass, the flesh flattening out to make it seem even thicker than it was. The wolf's response was to hook his hand behind his still-sheathed knot, and Hest's mouth ran dry at the realisation of how big it was. He could so easily transpose them both into some of the porn he'd watched, and see himself sliding his cock into the tailhole the wolf had teased earlier while that fat knot hung loose and heavy and unused beneath its owner, swinging with every hard, lusty thrust the horse made into the wolf's tight, fit body...

He snorted again, sliding his hand up to just behind his flare and squeezing, making the flesh grow and making his legs shiver with the pleasure of feeling his blood rushing along the long length of his cock. A vein trapped right under his thumb throbbed back at him with his heart's rhythm. He squeezed harder, lifting his thumb to tease it across the nubs of his corona, and his cock pulsed and squirted a dollop of pre-cum onto the glass. The wolf gasped in silence, and his hand stroked faster, luring more and more of his member free of his sheath until--with an almost artistic unfolding of the skin that had grown taut as a balloon around it--the knot itself came free and hung proudly in the air before the gorgeous wolf.

Hest clenched the hand pressed against the window into a fist and grabbed his flare with the other. His upper lip rose in flehmen, though the only musk he smelled in here was his own. But that would do. He'd always enjoyed his own scent; the erotic mix of warm hair, musky pre-cum and strong sweat. It would linger anywhere he stayed too long. Dogs and cats and wolves had to piss on things if they hoped people to know they'd been around; a stallion merely had to be. And if his kind wished to leave a longer-lasting, near-indelible mark, all they needed to do was drop their pants, grab their dicks...and cum.

The stallion's palm rubbed against his sensitive head, his tail swishing behind him, one leg clenching and rising from the ground. His balls were throbbing with need, desperate to finally empty themselves of their long-contained load. Hest whinnied hard, grimacing and glaring at the wolf as if he was solely responsible for this. The wolf had snuck a hand behind himself and seemed to be fingering his hole as he held his knot as tightly as Hest was holding his flare. Dribbles of pre-cum ran between the horse's fingers now, and he spared a second to slap his sticky hand to the window. See what you did to me. Another wordless moan from the wolf, then renewed attention to his knot as he stared lustfully up at the equine show being put on for him. He looked close. He'd better be--because Hest wasn't going to wait.

The stallion's cock was entirely erect, the fat meat curving down from his crotch and ending sixteen inches below. Hest crumped his flare with a rhythm he'd memorised over countless horny nights, compressing and releasing, touching this part and then that. Teasing into his wide urethra with a fingertip, then twisting the whole thing like a bottle top to run his rough fingers across every sensitive bump. The leg that had risen into the air kicked out whenever the pleasure spiked. His balls were barely visible anymore, their ample mass lifted into himself through sheer passion to prepare for climax. The wolf didn't even matter anymore. Hest felt the fog forming around his vision, the wonderful fog that always took him when he finally, finally, finally got to cum...

Deep inside a hot wolf's ass.

The whinny he bellowed as his orgasm crested must have been loud enough for the wolf to hear. Hest's couldn't tell; the fog was everywhere, and his sense of vision had been replaced by one that could only sense his cock and his balls and could only tell him how fucking amazing every part of them felt. His ears vaguely reported the wet smack of rope after rope of hot, thick horse semen against his window, and the guttural moans he gave with each massive shot, and his nose was full of his own heavy, delicious scent, but all senses were secondary right now to the pillar of fire between his legs. Hest let it consume him. The long-delayed pleasure hammered through every part of him like rivets through steel. His one raised leg kicked out with the painful ecstasy of it all. The horse had to lean his forearm against the window to support his weight as he moaned and groaned and sprayed every drop of cum his heavy nuts had against the glass.

Even after it ended, he kept leaning against the glass, eyes shut, breathing deep, satisfied breaths. The ache in his balls was finally gone, and it felt like a huge weight had been lifted from his mind. Every breath in now carried the sharp bite of fresh stallion jizz, and he opened his eyes to see it covering the entire window below his arm--and much of the floor below.

When he looked out of the window, the wolf was still there. He'd also cum; the pale proof glistened on the hand wrapped around his dick. As the horse's eyes met his, he grinned, then lifted his hand to his mouth and licked the spunk off his fur with long, deliberate strokes of a too-pink tongue. Hest's own jaw dropped in turn as the lupine carefully cleaned every inch of his hand, then held it up to show the horse it was clean--before pointing at Hest and lapping his tongue at him with a sensual look. Hest's head was still buzzing from his orgasm, but the message was clear.

I'd clean that up too.

The stallion stepped back from the window, cock still heavy and hanging, and looked at the complete mess he'd made. Cum had splattered across the glass, then dripped down. Where it had reached the floor, it pooled like melted wax, thick and dense. Rivulets of it still oozed down like sluggish white raindrops. He stared, then reached out with one finger and scooped up one of them. It was colder and gooier than he'd expected, but not at all unpleasant. He sucked the finger clean and smiled at the wolf, who grinned in horny approval and clapped his hands. His head suddenly snapped to the side, looking in the direction of his house, and he looked back at the horse with a rueful look. It seemed he'd been summoned home.

"Time to go do your husbandly duties, wolf," Hest murmured. When the wolf raised a hand in farewell, Hest raised his in return, then let it fall as he watched the wolf pull his pants back on and disappear out of sight around the corner of the garden shed.

Hest gave a deep sigh, walking back to his chair and thumping down into it. His cock still hung well loose of his sheath, and he hefted it thoughtfully. Maybe the new place wouldn't be too difficult to settle into after all.

He studiously ignored the twinge of guilt hovering at the edges of his mind.

---

Aurel and Atlas stared up at the ceiling, the game controllers forgotten in their hands. There had only been the one loud whinny, but straining ears could make out softer grunts at the edge of hearing.

Atlas giggled. "Finally. Maybe he'll be a bit more relaxed now."

Aurel chuckled. "He should just have asked Mom before we left."

"He couldn't. He's not into mares now."

Aurel squinted at his brother. "How do you know?"

"'cos he likes stallions now."

"That's not how it works, idiot."

"Actually, it is, double idiot." Atlas gripped his controller and looked back at the television. "Come, I wanna finish kicking your ass."

"Whatever," the older twin drawled, shooting a glance up at the ceiling once more before resting his hands in his lap and shuffling backwards on the couch until the gentle swelling in his pants was obscured.