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Days at the farm quickly blurred together, the hours strung together by banal and mindnumbing chores. Washing the dishes, collecting fresh eggs, and odd jobs like fetching orange juice from the market and mowing the lawn. Remy was able to plow through his tasks in a couple hours, but he liked to spread them across the day. Finding something to occupy the empty hours was easy enough. Remy had always been good at keeping himself busy, having grown up as an only child whose parents were frequently on business trips. A small stack of books sat on his nightstand, all of them practically devoured over the last several days. They were already coated in a thin layer of dust, just like everything else on this goddamned farm. Atop the bookstack was an IPod that only worked after Remy let it warm up for ten minutes first. Books and music had been his saving grace the last several days. It had taken a day for the bruises to fully form, and then another for it to begin to heal. Nasty purple and yellow splotches had formed where the dog’s teeth had latched onto Remy’s shoulder. His butterscotch colored fur mostly covered the area, but it did nothing to mask the dull ache down to the muscle. Matthew’s touch on his shoulder made Remy wince. The wolf didn’t notice Remy’s pain, and if he had, he didn’t mention it. Matthew hadn’t talked much since it happened. He wasn’t angry. Remy had seen his boyfriend angry plenty of times before, and that anger typically came with yelling and the rare fist through drywall. It seemed like some of the fight had been knocked from Matthew, like a little piece of him had broken. It was almost like watching your boyfriend get fucked up the ass by a slobbering, feral dog in exchange for food and board might break something in you, Remy thought. All he could do was give Matthew time. That specific detail had slipped out the day after it happened, the fact that Matthew had watched everything. “Just so you know, I saw it,” Matthew had said the next morning while they were getting dressed for the day in the hay loft. Remy didn’t look up, but paused shoving his foot through a pant hole. “Saw what?” he asked, although he knew exactly what. “All of it. When he mounted you.” “Babe, you knew this was happening, and what we were getting into. You don’t get to be mad if you changed your mind afterwards,” “I’m not mad,” Matthew said quickly. “I feel a lot of things, but I’m not angry at you. I just thought… you should know, you know? Full transparency, like we talk about. I wanted to make sure you were okay. I wanted to be nearby if you needed help if Abe got too aggro or something.” Radical honesty was something the pair had discussed since the very beginning of their relationship, but this entire experience was something Remy would have preferred to drop permanently. It was humiliating enough that Remy was forced to participate in the depraved act. Just being fucked by the mastiff was horrific enough, but the alternative was to starve on the streets. Still, the knowledge that his boyfriend had seen him mating with a feral dog made the bile rise in his throat. “Okay. I appreciate that you were looking out for me. I don’t think you should see it next time though.” The conversation had seemed like Matthew was attempting to build a bridge between them, but his attempts stopped there. Remy didn’t push Matthew. The wolf just needed time to process. And he had plenty of time out in the fields while Remy stayed inside playing house. Today, Remy holed away in the loft that doubled as his and Matthew’s bedroom. Sunlight beamed through thin slates in the wall. Although rustic and quaint at first, the charm had worn off. The rays of light were now too bright and irritating. Remy would have to go to the store later today and buy some duct tape to cover them up. He pushed himself off the worn mattress. He needed fresh air. Somewhere open, and solitary. On the far side of the barn was a small, unattached shed. Remy found a rusty step ladder, moved it over, climbed to the shed’s flat roof, and leaped carefully over the foot gap to the barn roof. Overlapping metal panels made up most of the barn roof. It was a gable roof, with two slopes facing opposite sides. It was slanted enough that Remy could easily walk to the top, but he wouldn’t dare on an icy or wet day. It was early enough in the day that the metal was pleasantly warm on his paw pads. He sat on the roof’s apex, riding it like a saddle. Then he hiked his other leg over and sat crosslegged. The first time he’d climbed here, he had gone slow, like crossing a newly frozen lake. He’d had images of himself breaking through and crashing down to the loft, or worse, the ground. But he’s grown confident in the roof’s stability the more he returned. Below, Remy could see the daily activities that kept the farm breathing. Wayne and Sal worked in the tool shed, fixing a harvester engine. Sal at the wheel, sounding a loud mechanical grind when he started it. Wayne at the side of the engine, shaking his head in frustration. Matthew was half a mile out, near the cattle. He was pounding a fence post into the ground with a post driver. He’d taken his shirt off so his deep grey chest was a speck of lint in the distance. Even Abe sprawled out in the grass, munching on a raw hide. Remy’s mind lingered on Abe for a moment, reliving the sensation of the mastiff’s swollen knot plopping inside, forcing pumps of doggy cum into his guts. Remy shut the thought down hard. He got up and moved to the other side of the roof, facing away from the farm’s activities. Picture perfect was such an overused phrase. But for this, it was accurate. Farmyards stretched into mute blue at the edge of the horizon, the rolling hills squashed to mere bumps at this height. Just yesterday, Remy had asked Matthew if he was okay. If they, as a couple, were okay. Matthew muttered a brief ‘fine’, which, of course, meant the opposite. Remy had only done his real job once, but there would be more to come. He figured Matthew would warm up to it. They’d had sex this morning. Remy had initiated, and it was cold, weirdly dispassionate, but that had to mean something anyways, right? Remy listed their options in his mind again. They were limited. Option 1: Leave the farm. Move back to the city, where they would never have to see a stupid tractor ever again. Not a good option. They barely had an income, would be homeless, and had no contacts who could help. Option 2: Change the deal they made with Wayne. Remy would quit servicing the animals, and work as a regular farmhand. Also a bad option. Wayne had explicitly said he only needed one extra farmhand. If Remy wouldn’t service the animals, then he was useless. Wayne didn’t seem to type to tolerate waste. Option 3: Find another farm to work on. A nonstarter. Remy didn’t like the odds that someone would need not one, but two farmhands, and they were nearby, and also hiring immediately. Option 4: Stay here. Wait. Save their nickels and dimes until they could leave, find somewhere better. Remy laid his head back. The roof was still mostly smooth despite the rusted edges. It warmed his back like a hot compress, not that his back needed it. Remy lifted his tank top off, and tossed it to the side. Better. Since he was facing away from the others, no one within a couple miles could see him unless they got binoculars. Suddenly, the ladder scraped against the shed, startling the coyote. He shot up to see a shaggy mane of black hair, which rose to reveal a donkey, who locked eyes with Remy. The donkey seemed just as shocked. “Knew I didn’t leave the ladder there myself,” Rhett said after a moment. He sighed and looked back at the ground, thunk it over, and then hauled himself onto the shed then to the barn. His heavy steps made the roof shudder dangerously. He had just as much trust in the metal panels as Remy. Rhett was one of the workers on the farm. He was a true workhorse, stocky and built for hard labor. He typically kept to himself when he wasn’t working. A layer of dirt covered the man’s faded tank top and jeans. Sweat stained his pits. Rhett reached into his back pocket and pulled out a pack of Camels, then wordlessly offered one to Remy, who shook his head no. Rhett dug into his other pocket to find a heavy zippo with a sailboat on the side. He lit the cigarette and drew a long, unhurried drag, then puffed it out in a spew that dissipated quickly in the clear morning air. Remy recognized it from the occasional whiffs he got when walking passed the donkey. Rhett leaned back and stared out at the horizon, like Remy had done earlier. It was difficult to ignore the donkey’s presence. He wanted to say something to break the silence. Anything. Maybe a quip about how crazy this entire situation was, or some small talk about sports. Rhett seemed like the type to watch football. Remy was just about to ask if Rhett had seen last week’s game, when Rhett spoke up. “You and the wolf don’t seem to be getting along,” Rhett observed flatly. He kept his eyes trained on the view. Smoke wafted from his mouth. Blood flushed across Remy’s cheeks. He didn’t realize it had been that obvious. He wondered if the others had noticed this too. There was no point in lying. “Matthew is still processing the situation,” Remy said, also looking straight ahead. He squinted to see a neighbor’s herd of cattle by an irrigation canal. Rhett inhaled another breath of nicotine. “It’s just sex, ain’t it? Abe’s just doin’ what’s in his nature. You did it for rent, didn’t you? It’s that simple.” Not really. Sex is supposed to mean something. It’s special to Matthew and I. Even if we both agreed to this, I feel like I’m ruining something sacred,” said Remy. It wasn’t just that though. Beyond the bestiality, which was horrendous in and of itself, it was the horrible, drowning knowledge that a deep part of Remy had enjoyed the experience. The singular act of sex with the beast couldn’t compare to what Remy and Matthew had, but the memory clung to his thoughts. Rhett flicked his finished cigarette butt off the roof, and laid back with his hands behind his head. Then, as if he just remembered he had it, he sat back up and stuffed his hand inside his pocket to pull out a flask. Rhett took a swig and relaxed again, now fully content. He offered it to Remy. This time, Remy indulged in a couple sips of cheap whiskey, coughing at the taste. Now that the air was clear of cigarette smoke, and once Remy’s throat was clear of the bitter alcohol, he noticed there was another scent in the air. Deep and musky. He snivelled his nose, forming lines across his tawny muzzle. The whiskey made his head swim. He’d always been a lightweight. Remy glanced at the donkey from the corner of his eye. “I guess, uh… deodorant hasn’t quite made its way here yet,” he joked. He doubted Rhett was the joking type, but a bad joke was better than the deafening silence. The burly donkey snorted out a chuckle. This was the most, and only emotion he’d shown in the last few days. “Plenty of worse smells out here, ‘yote. Shit, if you can’t handle the boys being a little rank, you’re in the wrong profession.” Rhett said, placing heavy emphasis on the ‘pro’ in ‘profession’. “The boys?” Rhett butterflied his arms to emphasize his armpits. Thick, dark patches of hair sprouted from each damp caver, the coarse hairs glistening with sweat that dripped onto the roof and quickly evaporated, leaving white crust behind. They were ripe with donkey musk. Rhett took another swig from the flask. Remy spun around to look at what the others were doing. Wayne and Sal had gotten the tractor working. Wayne was now heading inside while Sal had gotten a start swathing an overgrown field. Matthew, out in the distance, sat on the side of the field taking a break and eating a pack of jerky. “So what makes you stay?” Remy asked, changing the topic. “I mean, Matthew and I, we don’t really have a choice. Do you?” Rhett pulled another cigarette, flicked the lighter, and spoke between puffs. “I got everything-” Puff. “I need here, don’t I? Food-” Puff. “In my mouth, a roof over my head-” Puff. “A pack of smokes. Don’t know what else I’d want.” Puff. “Don’t you have any, I dunno, hobbies? I never see you do anything but smoke and work. Do you read? Listen to music? Anything?” Rhett shrugged. The idea that someone could live here happily was foreign to Remy. It was a nice enough place to stay temporarily. With a little love, he could see it being a popular AirBnB. But to live here for years like the men on this farm? Especially with no hobbies to keep oneself busy? There must be something that made Rhett content enough to stay here, beyond just the beautiful landscape. “What about a family? Or a wife? A girlfriend?” Remy blurted out. The donkey examined the cigarette butt between his fingers. He didn’t seem bothered by Remy’s incessant questioning, but instead genuinely thoughtful. Rhett huffed and shook his head. “I ain’t ever been about that lovey-dovey shit, beyond getting my dick wet,” Rhett paused, deep in thought. “I do miss fuckin’ a tight snatch though,” he dropped the cigarette stub. The roof was angled enough for it to roll down several feet, although it veered off to the side and stuck on a raised panel. Remy suddenly felt very childish. He wasn’t a fan of ‘lovey-dovey’ shit either. Him and Matthew had different ideas of romance. Like the way they wore coordinated outfits on special occasions, or the way Matthew cooked dinner while Remy sat at the counter, providing only company, or the feeling of Matthew’s belly fur tickling the small of Remy’s back when they spooned. The hundreds of near imperceptible ways their love was shown to one another. Rhett offered another drink. Remy gladly drank it down. When Remy turned to look at Rhett, his eyes struggled to focus. He blinked hard, and took another sip. “Saw that mess you and Abe made in the living room,” Rhett said, glancing over. Remy ignored the gaze, although his cheeks reddened again. Rhett continued. “Coupla jizz puddles left on the carpet. Took forever to scrub out. One was thin and watery. Dog’s, obviously. Other one?” Remy’s ears flattened. “Thick and stringy. Smelled a hell of a lot like coyote.” “It’s not what you’re thinking.” “I bet it is. You came buckets with that dog in ya. Ain’t no shame in it, like I said. It’s just sex, I get it. My point is, you understand fucking, and it sounds like it didn’t change your tune for Matt. Right?” “Matthew, not Matt. And… yes,” Remy said sheepishly. “Right,” Rhett continued. “Body wants what it wants. You gotta… What’s the word? I saw it on the TV earlier. You gotta put it in a box in your head, then you add a brick to the box, wrap it tighter than a straw bale, and toss it in the trash. And you don’t think about it again.” The donkey was much more talkative when buzzed. Remy felt the opposite. The whiskey had hit him in progressive waves that made him sway to the side while listening to Rhett talk about the concept of compartmentalizing. It felt like an unfair and simplified assessment of Remy’s situation. This wasn’t a discussion Remy wanted to have at all. He swivelled to his hands and knees. “I should probably get back. Matthew will be done soon,” Remy lied, still avoiding Rhett’s eyes. He carefully crawled backwards to the edge of the roof, already planning the hop to the shed. With how wobbly his legs felt, it would be risky. The risk was still preferable to the current conversation, with Rhett, who seemed a little too eager to talk about sex. And goddamn, that musk. If Remy was unlucky enough to still be here come Christmas, he know exactly what he was getting Rhett. A nicely wrapped Costco-sized pallet of Old Spice. Remy looked up at the equine, who now had his pants around his ankles. Remy looked back down at the roof while continuing his downward expedition. Hold on. Remy looked up again. Rhett sat near the top, his arms and legs splayed wide. His jeans bunched around an ankle, and tighty whities slung underneath his balls. While Remy had been making his treacherous descent, Rhett had undressed himself to release a hefty beer can donkey cock that laid half-hard against his thigh. It was leathery and mottled, almost black like the donkey’s mane with pink splotches like his lips. It was a surprisingly regal piece of equipment for such a rugged man, with a flare that crown the tip, and medial ring that adorned the middle. Another cigarette cast faint shadows on Rhett’s sunlit body. A whiff of sweaty balls cut into Remy’s nostrils. It was pungent, sharper than the man’s pits. Rhett’s cock visibly throbbed, growing a quarter inch in length. Remy could’ve sworn he saw the veins themselves pulsing, but maybe that was just his tipsy vision. A drop of precum formed, then trailed from the urethra where it caught on the flare’s rim. “Gonna stare all day?” Rhett asked. Remy’s gaze darted from Rhett to the ground. No one in sight. Wayne was inside, probably working on payroll. Sal would be on the harvester for at least the next few hours. Matthew was also out of sight, and wouldn’t be back til suppertime. “I… I can’t. Matthew, he’s” Rhett’s expression remained stoic. His dark brown eyes were unreadable. He scratched his groin, digging his meaty fingers into the black forest of pubes surrounding it. “Alright,” said Rhett, not moving an inch. “Look, if Matthew and I were open, or if it was just me, then maybe. But I love Matthew.” “Damn. Thought we was on the same page for a moment,” Rhett said. “‘Sides, I wouldn’t tell.” Remy swallowed hard. The warm sun felt sweltering on Remy’s back, and his shorts felt uncomfortably tight. He’d had fantasies of other men before, but they had stayed just that. Fantasies. He’d shoved them away, compartmentalized any desire to be with anyone besides Matthew. He was happy with that choice. But the thick, manly musk and whiskey swimming in his neurons, plus that fat shaft dangling like a sweet fruit from a tree… It was the wrong choice, but fuck it. Remy wobbled back up the roof, planting his palms and feet firmly on the metal. A two ton anchor hung in the back of his mind, trying to drag him back, protesting against the male who was not his mate. He persisted against it, and the vertigo that tried to flip him over. The scent was like a used jockstrap in the sauna. A one man locker room. Rhett hadn’t showered since his morning labor. Remy wrapped his fingers around the shaft. The texture was like a car seat in the hot sun in his palm. A pulsing vein ran base to tip. It was slightly sticky to the touch, likely from being mashed up next to his sweaty balls and thighs for the last few hours. Remy’s nose bumped into the swollen flare, smearing precum on his snout. His tongue flicked up to catch it like a dog who got a taste of peanut butter. It was salty sweet. Much sweeter than expected. The image of the horses down in the stable flashed in Remy’s mind. Remy sent a brief prayer to the sky that Wayne wouldn’t make him touch one of those beasts. The flare squished past Remy’s lips to scrape against his upper palate and tongue in equal measure. Remy sucked in, pressing his cheeks on either side to create a tight seal. Rhett grunted in approval. Remy gagged slightly, and took a deep breath before sucking it down, letting the cockhead into the shallows of his throat. The whiskey helped, making him try harder than he otherwise would have. Rhett rested a heavy hand on Remy’s head, threading his fingers through Remy’s soft fur. “That’s it… Matt’s a lucky wolf. Should’ve figured a city boy like you would have a talented muzzle,” said Rhett, scratching behind Remy’s ear. Remy wanted to correct Rhett on Matthew’s name, but couldn’t. Truthfully, it had been ages since Remy had sucked Matthew off. And the wolf certainly hadn’t smelled like this. Remy wondered if he would have sucked Matthew off at all if he’d smelled anything like this. Remy couldn’t explain the sway the donkey’s scent had over him, and he couldn’t explain why it was more powerful than his boyfriend’s. Spit dribbled down Remy’s chin as he began bobbing his head. Ragged breaths provided just enough oxygen. He stared down at the wiry pubic hair that flooded his mind with pure donkey pheromones and made his throat spasm. The flare throbbed in response in Remy’s gullet. Remy strained his jaw wide, allowing the meat deeper while Rhett encouraged him by pressing his head down. Precum was deposited directly into his stomach. The impalement of equine flesh made Remy gag violently. He wrenched his mouth off the shaft, coughing hard. A glob of saliva overflowed from his gaping mouth onto Rhett’s penis. “Goddamn,” the equine huffed in genuine amazement. “Most gals can’t swallow that much,” he thumbed his saliva coated flare, smearing the slickness around. “Turn around. Let’s see if that ass is still wrecked from Abe.” Rhett’s calloused hand trailed down Remy’s flank, and helped him spin so that Remy straddled him, ass hovering about the equine’s lap and his muzzle pointed at the donkey’s legs. Rhett hooked his thumbs in Remy’s waistband and tugged his shorts down until his ass was bare in the summer heat. Rhett leaned in, nostrils flaring. He grunted and pressed a thumb against the coyote’s pucker. “Damn, looks like the wolf got here first,” Rhett muttered. His thumb pressed deeper, making the ring of flesh yield and swallow it. Warmth returned to Remy’s face. He remembered, with embarrassment, what him and Matthew had gotten up to that morning. For all Remy’s doubts and judgements about Rhett’s scent, Remy was no better. The boyfriends had a morning quickie, their first in days. Remy’s ass had recovered from Abe’s knot, but it was certainly still looser than usual from Matthew’s. And if the donkey had somehow been noseblind to the scent of male on male sex and wolf cum, it would have been impossible for him to miss the wetness from residual semen and lube. Remy fought the urge to clamp his tail down. It would be so easy to crawl forward a few inches to escape Rhett’s curious thumb. Two fingers replaced the thumb without warning. The sudden stretch made Remy gasp, and grip onto Rhett’s muscled calves. They were thick and strong, like the rest of the donkey. Rhett wriggled his fingers, twisting them up to the knuckles. As he withdrew his fingers from Remy, Remy’s anus clung on. Dregs of Matthew’s cum escaped and coalesced into white globs on Rhett’s fingers. “Rank lil’ mutt. You gonna talk to me ‘bout deodorant when you didn’t even think ‘bout washing your boyfriend’s load outta you before letting me play with your ass?” Rhett said. He smeared his cum-coated fingers on Remy’s thigh, back and forth like a paintbrush. Rhett’s other hand jerked his equine length, showing no desire to stop. It paused every once in a while to pinch the skin on the medial ring. Below the shaft, the donkey’s balls hung low like billiard balls in a silk pouch. They were hairy, peppered with the same coarse black curlies as the rest of his crotch. Every stroke made them bounce. The way Rhett openly worked his cock and leered at Remy’s ass was obscene. His lip was half-raised and his eyes narrowed in on his target. “Push,” Rhett said. “What?” “C’mon. Your spit ain’t gonna be enough lube,” said Rhett. A brief moment of sobriety washed over Remy, but faded just as quickly. He whimpered. He’d gone this far. In for a penny, in for a pound. Remy lowered his head, utterly ashamed. He took a deep breath, relaxed his body, and then pushed. His boyfriend’s load splurted out in a milky stream that splattered on Rhett’s cockhead. Rhett kept jerking his penis until it covered the entire length. “Gooooood ‘yote bitch,” Rhett grunted. Rhett aligned his flare with Remy’s slightly gaped entrance. The flare was three times as wide in diameter. Remy’s ass cheeks kissed each side. They were slick from the morning romp. Rhett tried to shove forward, but the blunt tip caved in Remy’s hole, then slid right off, down the coyote’s ass cleft, and skapped against his hanging balls. Remy yelped in pain and clamped a hand over his mouth. “Still too damn tight. Hold on, I gotta trick,” With one hand still gripping Remy’s thigh, the equine used the other to pinch the top of his flare. He folded the tip into a sort of spade. He dug the very tip of the flare in, and then pinched along the rest of the crown, squishing it into Remy’s asshole. It was certainly easier than trying to force the blunt cockhead in, in one go. Finally, Rhett pushed the last bit of the flare inside. It tugged back against the taut rim, now trapped. Now that the flare was in, Rhett was able to punch his penis upwards in a brutal buck. Remy yelped again. The shaft, thick as Remy’s wrist, stretched him wide. Both males breathed hard and fast, pausing for a moment to adjust to the sensations of a new partner. Remy whimpered again. He couldn’t see anyone on the ground, but the fear of getting caught by someone, god forbid his boyfriend, was a constant tightness in his chest. Matthew was out breaking his back in the fields, and here Remy was, letting a practical stranger get Matthew’s sloppy seconds. Swat dripped down the side of his face. He hadn’t realized he was sweating, but it was no surprise, given the increasing heat and exertion of taking donkey cock up his straining guts. The meaty flare rubbed against Remy’s prostate while the swollen medial ring popped past his asshole. Rhett helped by pulling Remy’s hips down. The pressure sent currents of electric pleasure through his nerves, making his legs shake as he lifted himself up, and with no extra help from Rhett, sank back down, gaining another couple inches. As coyote ass fuzz met overgrown donkey pubes, Remy noticed something stirring at his crotch. His own cock peeking out, sheath bunched up in front of the knot, erect and dribbling a dark puddle underneath. With a little more oomf, the sheath would slide over and release the bulb. He hadn’t noticed it growing, but it now bounced stiffly up and down with every movement. Remy gripped the muscular legs tighter. If he touched his cock, he knew there was a risk of cumming on the spot. He didn’t want the donkey to see that. Beyond that, he didn’t think he could handle the sensation of cumming while riding Rhett’s meat. Areas that Matthew couldn’t reach were glided over as the pace increased. Abe had come close to those spots. The dog’s knot certainly matched Rhett’s girth, but Rhett had the mastiff beat in length. With every rough thrust, Remy felt a stab of pain in his core. Each plunge felt like when Remy was a little kid in PE, and got socked in the gut by a rogue dodgeball. The massive cock bore down and slowed into purposeful grinds. A forceful, elongated drive inside, and Remy’s fleshy ring met the base of Rhett’s shaft. Remy’s spine arched and his tail laid itself flat like a bitch in heat. Grape-sized coyote balls rested cutely on apple-sized donkey nuts. Wolf seed and donkey precum dribbled from his stretched hole, matting Rhett’s pubic fur. The shaft was fully inside. It had rearranged his very guts to make space. A sharp tang of wolf sperm hit Remy’s nose as Rhett groaned and pulled out, rolling his hips to spear Remy again. His thrusts were shallow, reluctant to leave Remy’s prelubed heat. Filthy squelches escaped Remy as air and semen were forced in and out. “God fuckin’ damn. City boy slut. Keeping your wolf boy’s load nice and warm,” said Rhett. His voice was guttural and a notch deeper than usual. Rhett’s firm hands wandered up Remy’s sides, scratching his sensitive skin. It made him shiver, and elicited a clench around the equine. “Wanna show me how bad you want this load? You really wanna feel me breed you?” Rhett asked. Remy knew the correct answer. Remy pushed himself upwards, feeling his stretched hole drag over leathery equine flesh. The medial ring caught for an agonizing moment. It popped out, bringing another gush of wolf cum from Remy’s bowels. Remy squatted back down, letting Rhett’s cock burrow into his innermost self, every inch meeting his asshole until donkey balls met his own once more. The coyote’s hamstrings burned. His body shook, and he stopped hiding his moans. The fact that no one had come to investigate told him that they were probably safe for now. “Better not let the wolf eat you out. You’re gonna smell like donkey for a while,” Rhett mumbled. Remy wanted to snap back in defiance, or hit him, but he couldn’t find the strength. Because Rhett was right. He would stink of equine musk and cum, and the only chance to possibly avoid that would be to leave right this second. And Remy wasn’t going to do that. The burn in Remy’s thighs erupted into violent shakes. With a full body shudder, his legs finally gave. The muscle fatigue was as bad, if not worse, than the pain in his overstretched ass, although at least the relentless fucking was enjoyable. Gravity pulled Remy to the hilt of Rhett’s cock. Rhett continued thrusting. Those tree trunks of legs weren’t just for show. They powered strong drives like a well oiled piston, bouncing Remy as easily as a fleshlight. The pair’s liquids streamed down the roof. Precum, wolf jizz, sweat, all leaving a trail that sheened under the bright sun. Yet another piece of evidence of their escapade. Remy would have to remember to scrape the dried crust off later. Later, Remy thought. The experience wasn’t something Remy would be able to just clean up later. He couldn’t take it back. Remy was cheating on Matthew, and will have forever cheated. He was a cheater. After the pain Matthew had gone through this week, all the pain from the city, Remy knew he wouldn’t be able to add to Matthew’s pain by admitting his own infidelity. Despite cheating, he loved Matthew more than anything. “Careful Matt don’t hear you squeelin’”, Rhett said, interrupting Remy’s chain of thought and another moan. Remy clapped a hand over his mouth to shut himself up. The pistoning against his prostate gland was relentless. It made his vision blur. Pleasure built like a tightening spring inside him. His erection bobbed, spitting driplets of precum over his belly and the roof. A whine escaped him as he saw his cock begin to pulse, knot fully engorged and distended from its sheath. Remy felt the urge to urinate. He thought he was going to piss himself as the pressure increased. He laid a hand on Rhett’s thigh, about to tell him to stop. Instead, Remy watched in shock as thick ropes of coyote jizz erupted from his cocktip. They shot out in jets without any sort of true climax, spraying across his belly, the donkey’s legs, and one particularly long arc that almost reached the edge of the roof. He’d never cum separately from an orgasm. He didn’t know that could happen, and wouldn’t believe it if could if he hadn’t just experienced it. And then he orgasmed. Waves of pleasure rocked through him as he wildly bucked, the cock inside him suddenly overstimulating. His muscles locked, asshole clenching like a vice, milking the donkey. His own cock, now emptied, bounced uselessly. Rhett snorted and went faster, He gripped Remy’s hips hard enough to leave dark welts on the skin, forcing his foot long in and out of Remmy’s cum sloppy hole. “Juuust like that… Keep squeezing.” Rhett grunted. He threw his head back. It looked like he was trying to stall himself, trying to enjoy Remy’s peak as long as possible. Remy’s orgasm dragged on. Although his spurting cock had waned to a mere drip, the full body endorphins flooded his bloodstream, lengthening his climax endlessly. Frothy cumslop juiced onto Rhett’s pubes and stained his inner thighs pearlescent. Rhett’s dirty talk increased. Remy had no idea the donkey had a mouth like this on him. “Gonna pump ya full of my fillies… Matt’s gonna be swimming in me… Dirty lil’s yote bitch…” said Rhett, and continued on with variants of the same messages. It had been a long time since Remy had been with someone who degraded him during sex. Matthew had tried once, but the poor wolf didn’t have the heart to insult Remy to the degree he would have liked. Rhett seemed to be getting off on the same thing that tore through Remy with shame. The fact the donkey was churning up Remy’s boyfriend’s load like butter and getting ready to displace it entirely with his own equine deposit. Rhett’s balls tightened. Still heavy and full, but the hugged the donkey’s body. His flare swelled inside Remy’s colon. The bottom of Rhett’s gut pressed up on Remy’s tail. The donkey was balls deep. The first wave gushed into Remy, making him feel full in a way he’d never felt before. Viscous, copious donkey sperm exploded deep in his tunnel while Rhett’s cock throbbed. Streams followed. Remy’s deepest guts were flooded with Rhett’s pure essence. Cum froth gurgled and emptied out around the embedded shaft. So much equine sperm that diluted the wolf’s into mere traces. “Fuck yes, take that load,” Rhett moaned breathlessly as he was milked. The pair stayed like that, the coyote’s climax finally ebbing away while the warm load was delivered deep inside him. After a couple minutes, Rhett patted Remy on his hind like a horse who’d just earned an apple. Remy sat straight up, shifting the length around inside, making him shiver. His buzz was dulled now, albeit still present. His think had cleared enough to know that he had to get out of here, before anyone saw him. Remy rose, letting Rhett’s cock slide free with a lewd pop like a cork pulled from a wine bottle. His hole gaped, and the hot air suddenly felt like a cold draft against it. Remy didn’t want to think about how it looked right now. Semen leaked out. There was plenty more cum pooled within him, but there was no way he was going to push it out right now. Not now that the alcohol had mostly left his system, his hormones had faded. Rhett slapped his cock against Remy’s leg, then pulled his tighty whities and jeans back up, stuffing the creamy shaft inside. He lit yet another cigarette. Remy would bet any amount of money that the donkey could finish the pack, and then chainsmoke another three without a hitch. Remy tried to stand on shaky legs, but toppled to his side. He rolled around, and tugged his shorts back up. He sat on his sore butt, catching his breath. “This… uh… stays between us, right? Just sex?” Remy asked. Rhett imitated locking his mouth and hurling the imaginary key off the roof. Remy crawled down the roof, avoiding sex fluids. He teetered to the shed, already planning a hot shower before Matthew returned. He made it safely to the ground. “Hey ‘yote!” Remy looked back up to the donkey. His ass had already began aching something fierce. His thighs ached from the workout, and where Rhett had gripped them. “You know where to find me if ya ever get bored with wolf dick again,” Rhett called down. “Goddamnit,” Remy cursed to himself as he turned to go shower.