FSE

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Contains m/f nonanthro scenes, must be of legal age to view. Constructive comments are welcome, [email protected] Enjoy!

The two stallions walk slowly through the meadow, steam wafting off their bodies as they cool from their earlier exploits. The paint stallion grabs a mouthful of grass as he spies a passing morsel, his heavy jowls chewing slowly as he pauses, looking over at the black horse at his side. Deacon chews on his mouthful, swallowing and looking with concern at the approaching herd. Spark looks back at the nervous colt, admiring his newfound friend. The muscles shown under the fine white hair, clearly outlined, the black spots well defined. Spark nickers softly to the paint, walking over to nibble gently on his neck, gazing into his blue eyes. Deacon sighs gently, licking the proffered nose and grooming gently under the silver mane. Blue eyes meet brown, and they walk together to meet the herd. Deacon looks over the small band of mares with interest, with a new perspective than he ever had in the past. His last herd was large, fully thirty five mares, and an equal number of younger colts and fillies. Once a horse joined that herd, there was no turning back. The only ones that ever were allowed to leave were the horses that the patriarch expelled himself. Even the lead mare was afraid of the stallion; Deacon found himself glad that he has escaped with just bites on his rump. His croup shook with remembered pain as he took a lame step. Spark looked up with distress; a wounded herdmate was always a major concern. Deacon shivered, and regained his rhythm as he examined the small band who was watching the oddly colored stallion with distress.

Watching the two stallions approach was Spark's herd; six mares and two colts, all solid, dark colored, and very thin. They had been ranging far and wide looking for food, and they had traveled weeks. The herd was small, it was the most that Spark had been able to take care of. Two of the mares were carrying their precious cargo, and were getting close to foaling. Spark paused in surprise when he saw a small bundle curled up in the sun. It didn't look like any of his horses, and it was too big to be a foal. A head peaked up, covered in mud. A mare nickered softly and walks over to lick at the little horse's filthy head, cleaning it off. A patch of grayish white shows itself, and Spark looks over curiously. All his mares are solid; none has more than a star on their heads. Spark whinnies to the herd and goes to investigate the new face, with Deacon shyly following. The mare continued her ministrations, her eyes soft and kind. She looks up and nickers to the stallions in greeting, a last lick clearing the young horse's eye revealing a deep blue. Spark and Deacon snorted in surprise, suspicion growing in the paint colt's mind. He took the little one's ear into his mouth in a swift motion, cleaning it and revealing a half black ear. Deacon reares in surprise, striking in the air and whinnying in joy. Its his filly! He knows that scent anywhere... he lands on the ground hard and drops his head to immediately join the efforts of the mare in cleaning the young mare. The two year old nickers weakly, greeting her friend and protector. Spark watches in amusement and joy as his newfound friend is reunited with his closest companion.

The two horses quickly clean off the filly. As the colt get closer to her hindquarters, he started to smell blood. His next lick gets a painful whinny in response as he reveals a deep cut in a half moon shape. She had been banished the same way he had... the stallion's hooves had dug deep into her rump. He continued his gentle caresses, working his way back to her tail. The scent reminded him of their last encounter, and he sighed in pain. As he put his head up to meet the other mares, he bumped into a chestnut colt that had his nose inches from the stallion's ears. They both jump back in surprise, then stretch out their necks to touch noses. The colt squealed and jumped forward, wanting to play with the paint. Deacon smiled to himself and gave the colt a quick nip, then gave the mare that helped him clean his filly a thankful nicker. She bowed her head to him, and went to stand by her stud. Each mare in turn came over to meet the new paint colt, greeting him politely and nickering their approval to their leader. Spark watched in amusement as his colts went to nurse from their dams. He had missed his band in the hours he had been away. Once everyone had met he eagerly tried to guide the group to greener pastures, the meadow and its sweet grasses ever present in his mind. But there was a problem... the filly was too weak to get up, and the mare and the paint colt refused to leave her side. One of the colts nuzzled his mother, the filly's protector. Spark paused in confusion, not knowing what to do. He didn't want to leave one of his herd behind, but they needed to eat and rest. Deacon nickered to the stallion, nuzzling him forward. He looked back at his love then back to the stallion, turning slowly to go clean her some more. The mare nickered softly, urging the herd to leave her behind while they graze.

Spark reluctantly leads the rest of the band to the meadow, looking back often to make sure they stay safe. Deacon nuzzles the colt towards his herd, nickering softly as he prances to join his other friend. The paint stallion returned his attention to the kind old mare that was helping his filly. He pulled up a clump of dry grass and put it next to his friend, but she was too tired to eat. He looked up in concern: if she didn't eat she wouldn't ever rise again. Deacon started to panic, not knowing what to do. He nudged her again and again, trying to encourage her to get up, but no matter how much she tried she just couldn't summon the energy. He finally looked up at the mare in defeat, resigned to the fact his filly wouldn't make it. He drops his head in shame, and turns away. A soft thud behind him causes him to look back, only to see the mare lying on top of his friend. He whinnied in surprise and trots back quickly, only to find the filly tucked between the mares legs, her udder resting just in front of the filly's nose. His blue eyes widen in shock as the feeble filly found the slick teat and started to suckle, her nimble tongue licking the firm and full udder. She head-butted the soft flesh in front of her, earning a sharp look from the udder's owner. The look turned to a smile as the filly took the teat into her muzzle and began to suckle, pulling the rich milk into her body. After the udder was empty she managed to find the other, draining it just as fast as the first. She had barely swallowed before she nodded off to sleep, completely drained from her traumatic journey. Deacon sighed in contentment, managing to flop himself down so that he was lying next to the mare, grooming her withers gratefully as she licked the small form tucked under her belly.

Spark returned a few hours later to find the two female lost in sleep, Deacon nowhere to be found. He whinnied in surprise, waking the mare. A soft nicker brought his attention to the paint stallion, watching carefully from a nearby tree. Deacon joins the stallion, giving him a quick sniff and a lick on his withers. The mare looks from stallion to stallion, and then gives her charge a long lick along her face. The filly looks up, eyes bright for the first time in days. Both stallions watch as the mare gives the filly a nudge towards her udder. The grateful filly whinnies in joy and eagerly attaches her soft lips to the warm and slick teat. She hadn't nursed for over five seasons, but the instinct remained. The warm milk slid down her throat warming her belly. She finished one side and was about to switch to the other when she was butted by a little chestnut head. The mare's colt had followed Spark back and was quite upset at the idea of this foreign filly using his udder. She looked up at the impatient colt and extended her nose in a greeting. They sniffed briefly before the colt jumped and stuck out, running away with his ears and tail straight in the air. A new playmate! The filly rocks to her feet and runs off after the colt, nickering happily. The stallions and the mare exchange a look as the yearling and the 2 year old play happily in the clearing. The colt bounces around his newfound friend as the filly struggles to keep up. She's quickly exhausted, and returns tired but bright eyed to the adults who were watching amusedly. The mare scrambles to her feet, and the group slowly works their way over to the rest of the herd.

The reunion was joyous, the entire herd upbeat with the addition of a second stallion to keep them safe. In addition, they now had unrelated blood to carry on their genes. The two newcomers were certainly odd, with their spots and very unusual colored eyes, but their actions and courage spoke volumes. The band was very pleased and accepting of the union. On top of that, the meadow was large enough to support them for many seasons. The rich grasses and clean water were far more than the band ever expected to find. As long as they could have access to this meadow they could live happily and contently, while increasing the size of their herd to rival the herds of the area. Spark was already contemplating covering the remainder of his mares to ensure a bountiful spring. Naughty thoughts were passing through his mind...

The herd settled into a new routine, exploring the huge fields surrounding the meadow, figuring out which herds claimed which fields. One stallion always stayed with the herd as the other ranged the fields. The filly grew strong once again, her muscles healing and growing stronger. Her unending enthusiasm and hope gave her her name as they celebrated her second foalday. Two weeks after she joined the herd she was named Endeavor, the unendingly grateful one. She had everything she wanted: she had her Deacon to keep her safe and to explore the world with; she had her new colt friends as they had their first foaldays; she had her adopted mare to take care of her; and she had the cautious attention of the herd stallion, Spark. What more could she ask for? The herd grew fat on the land, content and well fed.

Endeavor's adopted mare was always around the paints. She seemed to take a real liking to them. She was next to them grazing, she was always around to scratch withers or play with the yearlings. Spark noticed it as well, and was pleased to see them starting to bond. One night the two stallions wandered off together to graze and enjoy each other's company. The colt had spent the entire day grazing and watching over the herd while the older stallion had been busy, so he wasn't very hungry. Spark on the other hand seemed to be ravenous, pulling hard at the grass swallowing it down with hardly a chew. Deacon quickly filled his stomach and rested, leaning on his friend. As he rubbed his chin on his friend's neck, a strange scent filled his nose, causing him to curl his lip. That smelled like mare... he paused, giving the older stallion a look. Spark paused his chewing, looking up at the paint innocently, a dark stain on his chest. Deacon bent down to give it a sniff. Mare, for sure! Now why did Spark have mare essence on his chest? Deacon's eyes widened when he figured it out. Spark shook his head and returned to his meal, a glint in his eye. The colt stuck his nose under the older horse's neck, trying to find the delectable scent again.

Spark pauses his meal to whinny at the young stallion in amusement. Seconds after the stallion's laugh, the splash of urine breaks the crisp evening air. An answering nicker comes from one corner of the field where the filly's mare is standing, looking over her shoulder with her tail lifted in the air, her clit winking in the moonlight. Deacon perked his ears, looking over with interest, a low hurumph rising in his chest. Spark nickers softly, pressing his nose into the colt's shoulder and shoving him towards the mare. Deacon looks up in surprise as the older horse returns to his meal, completely content to rest from his earlier breeding. The paint takes a step away from the other stallion, looking for permission as his pink phallus peaks out of his sheath. Spark looks up one last time, shaking his head and whinnying before turning around and taking a few steps, returning to his grazing. Deacon makes his way carefully in the dark towards the mare who rescued his filly, the moonlight glinting off his shining hide. He was so focused he didn't see Spark gazing at him, a content look on his face as his friend stepped up to his new role in the herd.

The mare breaks her stance and wanders up to the handsome paint stallion. Deacon nickers quietly, almost silently. The mare returns his greeting, extending her neck to exchange breath. Deacon halts, blowing into the mare's nose. His jaw opens, taking her cheek into his teeth. The mare squeals, throwing her head up and spinning her hindquarters into his chest. He nibbles on her back, working his way back up to her neck. A splash of urine dashes the ground as the mare's tail lifts and her legs spread. She tries to turn around again, presenting herself to the young stallion. He licks her croup, gently taking her flesh into his teeth with a love bite. She squeals softly, her ears focused on his actions as her clitoris winks, revealing the warm pink flesh hidden behind her nether lips. He curls his lip into the air again, his cock straining against its skin.

The mare stands stiff, her hocks spread wide in anticipation of the paint's welcome weight on her back. Cool air circulates between her buttocks, her tight lips tingling as the air hits them. Her body yearns for the touch of the stallion; she's had eyes on him since he arrived. The kindness in his eyes, the flashy muscles and coloring, and the devotion to his friend all attracted her more than any other stallion. She loved her herd sire but there was something special about this paint horse. She felt his warm breath on her tail, the sensitive skin sending tingles through her body. She tucks her hindquarters, letting a stream of urine leave her body. She hears a strained breath and looks over her shoulder to see Deacon's nose in the air, lip curled. He quickly returns his attention to her, rubbing his head on her croup and licking gently. She sees his eyes bright and ears perked, and returns her gaze to the landscape in front of her. She feels the stallion's warm breath under her tail as his tongue moves lower to clean and taste her entrance. He licks simultaneous with her winking, and the rough tongue on her clit makes her sigh in lust. Her fluids run freely leaving a shining glean on Deacon's nose.

The stallion licks under her tail, his lips and tongue slipping over every surface. The smell is intoxicating. All this time he never knew what he was missing. He pauses to rub on her back again, his chin putting pressure on her as he prepares to mount. He lifts himself up on her back, resting his chest on her wide, strong rump. Deacon grabs onto her withers with his teeth to keep his balance as he brings his erect cock closer to its target. His forelegs grip her hips tight as he probes, his slick cock running between her legs. She squeals and tucks her hips up lining herself up for his next probe. The stallion pushes carefully into her, running up her legs and touching her exposed clit for the first time. A flash of pleasure runs through both horses. Deacon gently thrusts forward, slipping above her clit and into her body. The heat around his cock causes him to squeal and push in farther, the slick surface very well lubed by both participants.

The mare nickers as she feels Deacon's cock slip up to her clit. She tilts her hips and gasps as he enters her. Her fluids mix with the stallion's as he slides inside. Her clit spasms again as his ring slips inside of her, his hot breath blowing on her shoulder. Deacon pauses after his first thrust, his mind on overload of the sweet warmth and love from the mare below him. The mare clenches down on his cock, stimulating him to resume his breeding of her. She squeals as he pulls out and thrusts in again, pulling himself onto her with his forelegs and lifting off the ground with his hind, pressing hard against her yielding cervix. She clenches around the base of his cock when he is as far in her as he can get causing his eyes to glaze over. He thrusts inside again, pushing into her cervix feeling it give slightly. Her pussy tightens around his ring again as he pulls out to thrust again. His penetrating cock leaks precum with every motion. The next push causes his head to slip through her cervix, letting him hilt inside of her. The added pressure causes the mare to tilt herself again and let loose another stream of urine. Deacon hilts himself inside of the hot mare, the sensation and heat causing his flare to start forming. He tried to pull out but she gripped him too hard to get back through her cervix. He explodes into her, collapsing onto her back with the strain. His flare pumps stream after stream of his essence into her, a whinny escaping his quivering nose.

Spark nickers softly to himself, his own cock slapping is belly softly as the painted stallion rests on his first mare. He watches the pink cock slip out of the mare, flared end gleaming in the moonlight. A full minute later the exhausted colt dismounts the mare who then turns around to share a warm breath. Fluid drips from the hindquarters of both horses, the mare's tail straight in the air as her clit winks slower and slower as her passion cools. Spark throws his head in amusement as the colt tucks his legs under himself and crashes to the ground instantly drifting off to sleep. The mare nickers softly, giving her partner a nuzzle before setting herself beside him, nibbling on the grass within sight. Spark sighs to himself, satisfied with his choice for the breeding. Things are looking good.