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Dinner that evening was fairly awkward, though mercifully not much besides small talk was touched upon.

I did finally manage to pick up on the father's name, however. Apparently when he's not at home playing some variation of 'dad', 'daddy', or 'father' to Arthur, he goes by Clark. I can't say that I wasn't at least a little embarrassed to have made out with someone without even knowing their name.

But before too long dinner was over and we all tucked in fairly early for the night. No reason for this was stated outright, but I'd guess it was because we all had a lot of thinking to do. I know I did, at least.

I was shown to the guest bedroom upstairs, as well as the bathroom. After a quick five minute shower and a hurried brushing of the teeth using an extra brand new toothbrush, I said goodnight to my classmate and closed the door to the bedroom.

Softly biting his lip, he looked as though he might have wished to say something more, perhaps to comfort me or thank me for staying when I could have left. But in the end he let it be and only said that he'd see me in the morning.

I realize now that I probably could have done more to make him feel at ease at the time, were I more mature. But at the time I was dealing with my own struggles and couldn't find the willpower to tackle his as well.

Sleep that night was elusive. And when it did finally come, it was filled with vague dreams of anxiety and confusion. As I slept, nothing made sense and I tossed and turned unconsciously in my bed as my subconscious mind churned over everything it had learned in the last several hours.

Sometime in the early AM, I awoke. I could tell from the signals my semi-achy body was sending to my brain that there was no way I would be getting back to sleep. Checking my phone on the nightstand, I saw that it was just after 6 AM.

Grunting to myself as I threw my legs over the side of the bed and forced them to support my full weight, I stood upright, even as I used a hand on the wall to steady myself.

Stumbling out of my room in a manner that was akin to a shambling zombie than a graceful stallion, I found myself in the bathroom and pissed away a full bladder through a morning hardon.

It was after this that I made what ended up being a fateful decision.

I could have gone back to the guest room and simply watched movies or listened to music on my phone until the day was ready to start in earnest.

Instead, I decided I wanted a glass of water from the kitchen and quietly made my way to the steps that led downstairs. But on my way there I happened by the railing that overlooked the den. And what I saw made me freeze in my tracks.

Sitting in an oversized easy chair was not one but two horses. Both Arthur and his dad Clark were sharing the seat, sitting before the ethereal glow of the nearly muted television set. The high-def set being the only active light source in the room, it cast an ethereal glow over the pair that washed out most colors in the room.

Thankfully, even though I was standing within their line of sight, since I found myself behind the TV I was obscured by the darkness. Still, I shrank up against the wall and knelt down, afraid that my white fur would still cause me stand out amongst my surroundings. This was probably unnecessary as their eyes had adjusted to the luminosity directed towards them.

I'm also not sure what compelled me to take cover, other than that I felt unready to face them after all that had transpired the day before. But within seconds of observing the two of them, I was glad I did.

Still waking up from my groggy state, it had taken me a several long moments to piece together what my eyes were telling me. Rather than it being as simple as Arthur and Clark sharing a chair while enjoying some lame early-morning-quality broadcast, things were a good deal more intense than that.

The initial thing I noticed was that while the dad was more or less clothed (Though without his shirt on. Or shoes for that matter), his son, who was sitting on the man's lap, was entirely naked. Except for his ever-present chastity device, of course.

But you wouldn't know it at first, from the massive erection that jutting up and out from between my friend's legs. For a second I assumed that Arthur was uncaged, and that his cock must have been just about as long and thick and his dad's. It took several blinks and a shake or two of my head to notice that it wasn't the brown horse's own length jutting out into the morning air. It was his father's, pushing up from between his thighs, hiding his own chastised member behind its impressive girth.

Laying prone with the lazy chair reclined back, the black horse's position and body language was one of extreme comfort. His legs propped up, his arms relaxed on the armrests, and a content smile on his face.

Arthur was a different story altogether. He looked excited, alert, and more than a little pent up. His right hand was busying itself playing with his dad's sensitive flesh, while his left arm was extended up and back, with his hand and wrist laying behind the other horse's neck.

A large portion of Clark's body was hidden underneath the smaller frame. Not that the muscular horse seemed to mind the weight pressing down on him.

I'm not sure how long the two had been at it, but enough time had passed since they'd started that the father's cock and Arthur's hand were both glistening in pre-cum. Things went on this way for several minutes as I watched from the shadows, my own length filling out in my pants as I did.

Other than the constant slow stroking of Arthur's hand, a few other things transpired in the first several minutes. Clark played with and pinched both of the brown horse's nipples at one point or another, causing his boy to silently squirm in response. The black horse whispered a few times into Arthur's ear, much to the son's embarrassment.

These words were too quietly said for me to make them, but their impact on the younger horse was obvious. Whenever the dad spoke, his son blushed, bit his lip, and panted more heavily. One time, in response to whatever obscene dirty talk Clark was murmuring into his ear, Arthur attempted some feeble attempt to deny his father's words, shaking his head in protest even as he looked utterly defeated and humiliated.

The younger male opened his mouth to articulate an objection, only to earn himself a muzzle full of horse cock as his dad thrust upwards while simultaneously pushing down on the stallion's head.

Forgetting to whisper entirely in the heat of the moment, the larger horse spoke in a deep voice that filled the den. So much so that I could easily hear him speak from my hiding place on the second floor.

"You're a horny little schoolboy, Arthur, who hasn't even begun to grow up. You are the same perverted colt that I found digging through my underwear drawer that day. Or don't you remember? Laying on my bed, sniffing my jock strap, petite boyhood in hand. The shameful look on your face when I caught you with your pants down around your thighs."

The worst part was, rather than recoiling at the man's indictment, by all appearances Arthur's lust was fueled to even greater heights. He gripped his father's length tightly in both hands and attacked the black horse's thickly veined shaft with his lips and tongue. The wet noises of one male orally pleasuring another were having quite the effect on me.

Not yet having driven the point home to his satisfaction, Clark berated his child even as the youth did his best to bring the man sexual pleasure.

"You think you've left your childhood behind, do you? And yet your friend was hardly here fifteen minutes and you were already on your knees trying to suck out a load like a bitch in heat. Just like you're behaving now. Tell me, son, which of us tastes sweeter?"

If his adopted son even bothered to try to answer his authoritative father, it was lost in all the gargling and gagging as the older stallion began bending Arthur like a pretzel to cram more of his meat past the lad's lips.

Not terribly concerned that his boy was having difficulty keeping fresh air in his lungs, Clark kept his verbal barrage up.

"Or maybe you've grown tired of your old man's stud stick? What's the matter, boy? This not doing it for you anymore? Looks like I'm going to need to find some new games to keep you engaged and interested."

Pulling Arthur off his cock, my friend coughed and tried to catch his breath and his dad strong armed him into a new position on his lap, where the two were facing one another. Grabbing his son's mane, the black horse pulled his submissive ward into a lustful kiss, stealing what little breath he'd managed to gather in the seconds where his mouth had been free.

This went on for over a minute, and as the two stallion's kissed I could only assume that Clark's rigid shaft was pressed between their stomachs. I wasn't able to tell from where I was lay crouched, but it was the only reasonable conclusion I could draw given their positions.

The father yanked the other horse's head back using his grip on his hair and told him, "Go. Give your friend a wakeup call worth remembering... and don't come out until your school pal has given up his seed."

I couldn't see Arthur's expression from my vantage point, but his reaction to the man's command was still obvious based on his response.

Voice filled with disbelief and apprehension, my classmate stammered out, "Da-dad! We don't have that kind of relationship! We're just friends... if I do that... he'll... he'll think I'm a slut!"

His father's reply was as firm and unrelenting as I had already come to expect from him.

The larger horse said, "He'll think you're a slut because you'll be acting like a slut. You'll be acting like a slut because you'll be a slut. You'll be a slut because that's what I'm telling you to be. Understood? You're going to give him the fuck of a lifetime... and he better come away happy and believing it was your idea or I'll ground you so hard that you'll have forgotten what cumming even feels like by the time you're finally allowed to play with yourself again. Is that clear, mister?"

Apparently Arthur knew when to back down because he folded like a bad poker hand.

"Yes, sir! Please don't ground me, daddy!"

With a gentle but insistent push, Clark maneuvered his son off his lap and onto the ground where he stayed kneeling, looking up at his father. With a crass casualness that surprised me, the black horse slapped his boy softly across the face and remarked, "That's my boy. Now... what do we say?"

Back straightening like a school boy being called on to give an answer in front of the class as his dad repositioned himself, Arthur happily intoned, "Thank you, dad, for helping this spoiled brat follow the rules. Please, keep your horny boy caged and chaste today, tomorrow, and the day after, so I can stay focused on what's important. I love you, father."

Rubbing the underside of his palm lovingly back and forth over the cheek he'd just nonchalantly slapped, he replied with a surprising amount of affection in his voice, "I love you too, son. Now, go have some fun with your friend. You've earned it."

Of course, the effect of the heartwarming moment was somewhat ruined by the fact the dad's fat, and still very aroused, dick now lay draped over the brown horse's left shoulder, small droplets of pre-cum dripping from the blunt head onto his back, soaking into his fur.

Standing up, Arthur carefully moved his guardian's pole out of the way before joyfully leaned down and hugging his old man. Chuckling, Clark said, "Okay, okay. Off with you. And be sure to tell him his cock tastes delicious when you run your tongue over his piss slit. Guys love that."

It was at that precise moment, as my friend grinned, nodded, and turned away from Clark that it occurred to me that my voyeurism was about to be discovered.

Heart racing, I headed back to the bedroom as speedily as I dared, paranoid that my footsteps would give me away. Reaching my room, I closed the door softly behind me and practically dived into the bed.

Closing my eyes and trying to listen for his intrusion over deafening thumping of my blood pressure in my ear, I waited. And waited. And waited...

What could have only been two or three minutes felt like an eternity as my mind raced with what I'd seen and overheard. I fretted that my spying had been discovered, that I had left some trace of myself behind or that Arthur had seen me as I made my escape from my perch behind the banister.

Every worst case scenario marched through my brain like a parade of horrors. And when, at last, the door to the guest bedroom finally opened, my reaction wasn't one of excitement but of dread. I felt certain that my intrusion into their intimate time together had been found out, and that I would now face the consequences for my betrayal of trust.

But, needless to say, that isn't what happened.

Instead, closing the door behind him, the lithe yet well-built horse slipped under the sheets and into the bed as I did my best to maintain the illusion that I remained deep asleep. I was laying on my back, eyes closed with my face pointing towards the ceiling in the almost perfectly dark room.

It took all the self control I had not to allow myself a nervous spasm when I felt a warm hand touch the center of my chest. With exaggerated slowness, the other stallion's hand journeyed down until it eventually bumped into the head of my erect stiffness.

If it were possible for my heart to burst out of my chest, it would have.

Having encountered my unignorable arousal, Arthur's hand softly gripped the head of my cock. I heard a soft gasp from under the covers, and could barely make out my friend whispering to himself.

"...Jaden is almost as big as daddy... whoa."

In the darkness, my ear twitched in response to the unexpected comparison, but with no light and with the brown horse under the bed sheets, the potential give-away went unnoticed.

I had no idea what Arthur was planning or how long I should pretend to be asleep. But as I considered the possibilities and my options, the other youth took matters into his own hands. Or, in this case, he took matters into his mouth.

Suddenly I felt a moist warm encompass the top third of my rod. Reacting instinctively, my hands gripped both sides of his head and I outright moaned as the horse began to work even more of my flesh into muzzle, so the additional inches might be teased by his active tongue.

Despite my hands cupping his head, Arthur quickly got into a pattern of movement where he was using his own face as a masturbation aid. He was moving quickly and with purpose, most likely in an effort to get me off as quickly as possible. My friend most likely figured that the sooner he could complete his father's instructions, the less of an opportunity for this awkward, forced situation to blow up in his face.

And while it may have been the easier route to just jizz down his throat and allow him to quietly slip out of the room, as if nothing had ever happened, the thought of us both acting later as if nothing had ever happened was too much.

Before I even said a word, I was already mentally kicking myself for throwing a wrench into things. I could have just laid back and gotten an awesome blowjob, but no. I had to try and get involved in things that weren't any of my business.

I'm an idiot like that sometimes, I guess.

Using my grip on his head to force him to stop moving, I spoke up.

"Arthur... I'm guessing your dad probably sent you in here, didn't he?"

The brown horse tried to pull himself off my shaft so that he could offer up feeble denials, but I held him down and kept him gagged and silent with my dripping cock.

"I'm not done talking, yet. ...Let me put it another way. I'm fairly sure your father put you up to this. And I'm not too interested in hearing you deny it. So I'll tell you how this is going to play out, bud. You and I are going to do what we want to do. And since I can't trust you yet to just do what you'd like over what your dad wants you to do, that means we're going to do what I want to do. And if you have a problem with that, we'll just call things square and you can leave. Got it?"

Once again he tried to pull off to answer me, but, for some reason, I continued to hold him down. I didn't have a good reason for it. Logically, I should have been interested in his response. And yet, here we were.

And so it was the height of audacity when I pressed him a second time, "I said, got it, Arthur?"

Not knowing what else to do, he ran his tongue all over the bottom of my shaft in way of response, then stopped.

I kept on with, "Good. And you're going to do what I say?"

Again I felt him tease my flesh erotically with his tongue.

"Good."

I let him up then, but before he could get a word out, I laid down the law.

"Get these covers off the bed and then let's switch positions. I want you on your back."

By this time, my eyes had adjusted to the faint light and based on how body language and how he hurried to follow my instructions, he seemed relieved to have someone else take the lead. Part of me was annoyed at his lack of self-agency, but the part of me that was only just a horny college kid was fine that things were going my way.

In the span of a few heavy breaths, Arthur had gotten the covers out of the way and was on his back, legs spread, smiling up at me awkwardly. In some ways he was far more sexually experienced than me, but from another perspective he had absolutely no clue what to expect.

It was exhilarating.

That's not to say that everything was picturesque between us. There was still the phantasm of his dad there in the room with us, leeching away some of the fun innocence of the moment we were sharing. And then there was the matter of his locked chastity device, its metal gleaming in the soft window light.

This was my real opportunity to study it as he lay there, patiently waiting for me to make the first move. I couldn't fully understand the appeal behind such a device. Sure, it was sort of hot to think that his manhood, the very source of his masculinity, was out of his reach and its intense pleasures denied him. But on the other hand, I knew that the one-sidedness of our liaison would eat away at me, until the guilt spoiled everything.

It was then that I decided that I'd have fun despite Clark's constant interference and heavy handed manipulation. No... that I would go even further than that. Looking down at Arthur, I knew just how to enjoy this on my own terms.

Speaking confidently, but without the harsh edge in my voice that my friend's dad tended to adopt, I told the stud, "Reach back and grab two of the headboard's poles. Don't let go until I tell you."

Not comprehending my intent, but with a lifetime of practice at following directions, the brown horse did as he was told, tensing up as he did so. I could tell that he was expecting to be fucked... hard, and moreover, he was expecting it to hurt.

This time is my turn to place my hand on his chest, trying to calm him through my touch. Then I reassured him by saying, "Trust me. You'll like this."

He looked vaguely confused, but before he could react further I leaned down between his spread legs, found my prize, and began my sensual assault.

Arthur's cock was out of my reach, but his balls certainly weren't. As my tongue began massaging his favorite erogenous zone with long, persistent strokes, my classmate's reaction was music to my ears.

With all his muscles tensing up briefly at the unexpected oral reciprocation, the other horse called out, "Ohh! ohhhh, Jaden! Please, don't stop! Oh fuck yes.... ohhhh yes, yessssss!"

I did pause then, actually, but only long enough to tell him, "Oh, don't worry. I don't plan on stopping until I get what I want."

Without bothering to explain to him what I meant, I resumed my thrilling task as he squirmed and buckled under the extreme signals his balls were relaying. He moaned, gasped, groaned, in virtually every variation of these he could articulate.

As for me, well, it was more than a little entertaining to spend so much time on part of foreplay that had historically only lasted only a couple minutes for me, if that. His sack was, in a word, perfect.

Entirely smooth, Arthur's plump ovals were completely exposed to me... defenseless against my attention. I took my time as I explored my new toy. I was soft when I felt like being soft... firm whenever the whim took me. I alternated between kisses and licks... between gentle nips and demanding tugs.

There we times when I would focus all my efforts on one seed-filled orb over the other. Likewise, there were moments engrossed myself with shoving his entire sack behind my front teeth. I loved how weighty and full of life his pair felt against my lips. And the taste was this great blend of earthy musk, combined with need and potent male arousal.

From his responses, it was obvious that he was experiencing an emotional rollercoaster from the sensations. His body tensed and relaxed in waves... I could feel it in how his legs pressed up against me as I rested on my stomach. Directly in my line of sight, his abs flexed before me, testifying to how unprepared he was for the affect my caresses were having on him.

Eventually, even his discipline broke down as he allowed himself to express himself verbally. He wasn't yet willing to break the rules and let go of the two poles he was clenching onto, but my classmate was ready to plead.

"Jaden... Jaden, please! It's too much! Just... just fuck me, already! I can't... this is... fuuuuck!"

Using my hands to take over for a moment while I responded, I tugged on his nuts and rolled his balls in my palm as I replied, "This will be over as soon as you give me what I want. You decide how long this lasts... and I'm not stopping until you give it up."

I immediately resumed my ministrations, redoubling my efforts. He was on the ropes, even if he didn't fully understand what was happening. Which was clear when, with confusion evident in his panting tone, he demanded, "What...? What are you talking about? Whatever I have... you can take it, man! Just fuck me already!"

Deciding he was making a good point, I smiled in the dark and said, "...As you wish, stud."

Taking two of my fingers into my mouth, I slathered them in saliva before reaching down between his legs, under his fat juicers, and pressed them steadily into his puckered rear.

Now I was attacking him on two fronts, and his reaction to this change in circumstances was essentially cataclysmic. Now he was almost yelping as his chastised member bounced around on his chest, swinging to the right and left as his pulse did its damnedest to force blood into the restrained cock.

The reason for this was obvious to me, but my sexually naive lover couldn't begin to understand the signals his body was sending him. His balls were telling him something his conscious mind couldn't begin to accept: They were approaching the point of no return. They would, without a doubt, be releasing their over-due pent up load, come hell or high water.

With my jaw beginning to ache from my sustained endeavor, I made my final push. Molesting him with my tongue and enthusiastically fucking him with two fingers, I knew he wouldn't last long.

In the end, Arthur only pieced together what was happening after his body had passed the point of no returning. His eyes were wide in shocked disbelief as long, highly pressurized strings of pearly cum began to erupt out of the hole at the tip of his chastity device.

Though his member was, predictably, still almost entirely flaccid, the stallion's tenderized balls had given up. They were unable to ignore their biological imperative any longer. In unison, they clenched, shuddered, and pulsed, sending streams of seed through the brown horse's urethra.

In turn, college boy goop sprayed wherever Arthur's bobbing, chastised cock happened to be pointing at the moment. On his face... over his chest... against the headboard and wall.

All too late, the submissive male began to protest.

"No! No-no-no-no, no! Please! I can't--"

Only to be cut off as his own flesh hosed down the inside of his mouth with hot, musky cum. Coughing as the jism unexpectedly struck the back of his throat, my handsome friend's disobedient package continued on making a mess of its owner.

During this visually satisfying climatic event, I continued to lick, rub, and squeeze his balls, encouraging them to give it their all. At the same time, I reached down between my own legs and finished myself off. I had already been close to the tipping point, and this felt like the perfect time to let loose. Unlike Arthur, however, my own mess was nearly entirely contained to a patch of sheets directly under the end of my dick.

All too soon, our climaxes came to an end. Left behind in their wake were two panting stallions. Though, one of us was a completely soaked wreck. Funnily enough, he was still gripping the headboard's poles, as if holding onto them for dear life.

When Arthur cleared his obstructed throat enough to speak again, he breathed out only two words at first.

"...Holy shit."