FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Carmella felt big and strong at the helm of her daddy’s 750. Never the type to be wooed by big vehicles like just about every man she knew, the appeal fell on her suddenly the first time she revved the 6.7 liter V8 diesel and felt the leviathan machine lurch beneath her. Hauling two tons of high quality barley down the highway wasn’t the most demanding task her daddy expected out of his employees, hence why she was the one doing it, but it was a damn fun one. Hiked up in the driver’s seat with her petite hands gripping the leather steering wheel, she watched the countryside peel by her from beneath the visor of her trucker cap. This was her first delivery. With 330 HP roaring at her behest, she knew it was a job she could get used to.

And what a beautiful day it was for it. The races were on at the track that day, a circus of bad hats and smelly cigars congregated under a bleaching sun in appreciation of thoroughbred athleticism. Carmella saw a packed parking lot on her approach to the track, though lucky for her the backlot was waiting for her. Coming around she got a good look at a few rich folk and their bizarre dress and queer garments. In a skin-hugging white t-shirt which all but exploded around the Jovian shape of her bosom and a pair of faded jeans, she felt rather out of place.

“Not my type of people,” she said to herself while adjusting her cap. Her two brown braids fell in a thick spiral down the back of her neck. She had some labor to do, but that wouldn’t stop her from looking pretty. There were some handsome horse fellas at the track today. If she was lucky she would get to meet one, but she didn’t get her hopes up. Either way, there were some hunky stallions ready to provide company at a moment’s notice back at the farm.

She hauled the truck around back where a pair of loading bays waited for her. One of them opened, and she was waved on by a pair of workers, a bull and a man. Carmella took a deep breath. “Whoooo… Here we go.” She made the delicate operation of backing the truck up to the bay, something of a nerve-wracking task. Eventually, she swerved the truck in line with the loading back and backed it into the big black wall cushion. She put the truck into park and exhaled finally. “Whew. Good job, Carm.”

She hopped out of the truck with a clipboard and a key to the compartment. She climbed the stairs into the loading bay where the two workers greeted her. Opening the truck bed revealed several stacks of barley grain, the prime ingredient of an herbivore athlete’s diet. Carmella’s daddy’s farm was their main wholesaler, with every meal prepared on site for the racers courtesy of the track owner. She passed the clipboard to the human fellow and watched as he and his coworker unloaded the shipment sack by sack. She crossed her arms beneath her massive breasts, feeling some guilt for making the men work in the unconditioned heat of the loading bay. Less than a minute outside of the truck cabin and she could feel a sweat building in her shirt, especially around her massive bust. If any of the other guys were with me they’d help, she noted while admiring the bulging flex of each gentleman’s muscles when they would toss a 70 pound sack over their shoulder like it was nothing. She pictured Matt, who usually made deliveries, doing the same. Standing there, she felt very alone.

“Carmella?”

She jumped at the sound of her name, bouncing her ass in the seat of her jeans. She spun around and saw a figure much ill-fitted for work in the loading bay. A woman, about her age, stood with gawking eyes and a fantastically bizarre, frilly green hat with a wildly slanted brim that reached from her like Saturn’s rings. A matching dress hugged a bombastically curvaceous figure, what bloated around the hips and thighs like two blimps wrapped together in a get-along shirt. The proportionate swell of her chest was highlighted by an open window to her cleavage, a fine line through soft paleness. A tiny purse hung from her shoulder. Shocked eyes stared at Carmella from behind a pair of horn-rimmed glasses and below a curtain of gleaming auburn hair.

Carmella didn’t recognize her at first, having to mull her lips for a moment as if to summon the lady’s name. The light bulb went off, and she jolted again. “Christine?”

Christine flung her arms into an ecstatic V above her head and squealed like a banshee. Carmella responded in kind, and the two old friends collided headlong into a back-bending hug. The sudden commotion startled the workers who quickly smiled and laughed to themselves when they saw the two girls intertwined, bouncing in place. They stayed that way for a while, cheek to cheek, rocking each other. Their hats went askew against one another, close to falling off. They came off to see the tears in their eyes, happy sniffles being shared in amplitude.

“Oh my God, how are you?” asked Christine, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. She had makeup on and was fighting not to make it run.

Carmella readjusted her visor to help hide her own happy tears. “Oh, I’m great! So happy to see you! What are you doin’ here?”

“Watchin’ the guys race, of course! What about you?” She looked past Carmella towards the truck where the guys had resumed unloading. “Did you drive that here?”

“Sure did!” Carmella said proudly before another sniffle. She pulled at her nose. “This is my first delivery for my daddy. I’m just here watchin’ them unload. Do you work here? What are you doin’ in the loadin’ bay?”

Christine put on a broad smile. “My daddy owns this track. You didn’t know that?”

Carmella’s eyes widened. “No! How long?” I knew her daddy was rich, but goddamn. Carmella recalled playdates at Christine’s house and how amazed she had been by such an expansive estate. It had made her reluctant to ever invite Christine over to a comparatively dingy old farm.

“Since my grandaddy passed away,” Christine answered. “Been comin’ here my whole life. Now it’s racin’ season I’ve been here every weekend. I came to the loadin’ bay ‘cause I saw ‘Rodriguez Farm’ on the docket for the delivery and thought of you. I was gonna come and ask if the driver knew you. Wasn’t expectin’ it to be you.”

Carmella held her arms up in a ‘ta-da’ gesture. “It’s me!” They shared a giggle.

“So are you here to watch a race?” Christine asked.

Carmella shook her head. “No. I’m ‘sposed to take the truck back after I’m done.”

“Aww.” The disappointment was clear on her face. “You got a bunch of deliveries to make?”

“No. Just this one.”

Christine’s smile came back. “Well then why don’t you hang a while and catch a couple races? The truck can hang in the bay for a while.” She looked over towards the two workers. “Travis, we got any more comin’ today?”

The bull fellow shook his head. “Nope. Done after this,” he said, then under his breath, “Thank God.”

“See?” Christine said with a dimpling smile. “Hang around some. I’ll bring you to the VIP booth and we can watch a race.”

It was a tad overwhelming. “Oh! Well, sure, that sounds great, but… I don’t know.” Carmella scratched the back of her head. She was keenly aware of the sweat that had dampened her bra and pits, not exactly prime condition for hanging out with folk as nicely dressed as Christine was. “My daddy might need the truck back.”

“Call him,” Christine said. “You won’t know until you ask.” Her mien turned to something pleading. “Come oooooooon. We gotta catch up. I ain’t lettin’ you go that easy.”

Carmella couldn’t fight a smile. The euphoria of reuniting with a childhood friend still rang in her tummy. It was hard to say no, not while she too was eager to make up for lost time. “Alright. Just gimme a sec.”

Christine beamed. “Sure thing.”

Carmella stepped aside and drew her phone to call her daddy. Christine watched from her spot, holding her hands together in front of her thighs. Looking back over to the truck, she saw her daddy’s employees hauling in those big sacks of grain. Secretly, she had been picturing one of the big workhorses she knew worked at the Rodriguez Farm doing the work when she saw the docket. Sure, she was going to ask if they knew Carmella, but that wasn’t the main reason she came down to the loading bay with all that pale cleavage beaming through the window of her dress like a searchlight.

Her attention came back to Carmella when she got off the phone and came back with a deep frown on her face. Christine felt disappointment until the facade broke and Carmella’s frown twisted into a grin. Christine knew what that meant, and they shared another gleeful squeal and hug.

The truck was left in the bay while Christine guided her friend outside towards the gallery where they would watch coming races. They chatted incessantly, catching up on every little thing they’d been through since graduating high school. Carmella listened as best she could, but could not stop being distracted by the coterie of wealthy racing fans and their exotically colored outfits. It was a degree of southern gentry Carmella failed to meet in her sweat-dampened t-shirt and trucker cap. She was especially mindful of how beautiful Christine looked in her dress, all but floating in it atop a pair of adroit high heels. She saw some people looking at her. She wasn’t sure if they were being judgemental or she was being paranoid. Her focus was drilled on her friend. Who cares what these people think? I’m with my friend. She doesn’t care how I look, so I don’t either.

Into the gallery hall the two of them took an elevator to the top floor where the VIP boxes were. The floor was quiet, separated from the average race attendee who could not afford club membership or lacked the connection Carmella currently had. She was surprised to see a doorman, a burly black bear, standing post at the box entrance. He greeted the two girls with a smile and opened the door for them.

“Here we are,” Christine chimed as they walked in. It was a sanctuary of modern luxury, deeply cushioned furniture flanked by sharply dressed ushers ready to serve at a moment’s whim. Gleaming chrome met austere wood in a tasteful clash of modern design, what radiated through a shallow fog of not unpleasant cigar smoke and premier alcohol. A multitude of heads turned their way upon entry and brought quiet to a few conversations. Carmella stayed close to her friend as she was guided to Christina’s father who stood on the balcony, puffing a cigar and chatting with a friend. There she reunited with the silver-haired fellow, sharing a hug and a compliment. He asked how Carmella’s father was.

“He’s doing just fine,” she said. But not as fine as you, she thought while noting the gold-banded robusto he was halfway finished with.

“The guys are lining up,” Christine said. She was seated in a chair looking through a pair of big, black binoculars. She handed it to Carmella. “Bets are off in a few minutes, if you wanna make one.”

Carmella took the binoculars and focused them on the starting gates where a platoon of slim and athletic thoroughbreds were doing their stretches, bending, twisting, and straightening their muscles into prime running shape. Their faces were all covered by racing masks in matching color with their shorts. Carmella feasted on their physiques, savoring the pop and ripple of their sinews. There wasn’t nearly as much meat on these guys as she was used to back at the farm, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t appreciate what she was looking at. Her focus came on one gentleman in red shorts, the seat of which he would stretch into a thin-double mound of steely haunch when he bent over with his wiry legs far apart and an auburn horsetail bobbing between them. He stood upright to show some young looking brown eyes from within the holes of his mask. The number 14 hung from his white tank top on a runner’s tag.

Christine read her like a book. “See one you like?”

Carmella bit back a smile and lowered the binoculars. “Number 14,” she said. “He’s cute.”

“14,” repeated Christine. She looked his name up on the list she already had ready on her phone. “Noah Ackhurst. He’s a rookie with no wins. His odds are pretty long at 21 to 2.”

Carmella wried her lips. Last she checked, she had 12 bucks in her wallet, money she had planned on using for getting a snack on the way home. “Whatever. I’m fine.”

“You wanna make a bet on someone else? Best odds here are 7-2, a guy with a couple wins.”

Carmella sat down, her gaze affixed on Noah. “Nah. I only got 12 bucks on me. Besides, I don’t wanna run all the way down to the better’s booth or whatever it’s called.”

Christine gave a dramatic scoff. “Pshh. Please, you ain’t gotta pay shit. We got you covered, girl.”

Carmella frowned. “What do you mean? Wait-”

“Noah, number 14? You want money on him?” Christine didn’t wait for an answer. She was already tapping on her phone. “You ain’t gotta go nowhere either. We got an app for that shit nowadays.” Carmella watched as she placed a bet in just a few taps. “There. I got you 100 on number 14.”

“One hundred?” Carmella bolted upright in her chair. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! You don’t gotta-!”

She was cut off by a lift of Christine’s hand. “Carmella, please. If it was anything crazy, you think I would’ve done it? Bets like that are chump change ‘round here. Just promise me you’ll toss me a few bucks if this fella wins.”

Carmella realized there was no arguing her way out of it, especially not when the bet had just been made. She slumped back in her chair, praying to God almighty that this Noah and his fine ass would win the race for her sake. “Fine. Jesus…”

Christine chuckled. “I said don’t worry about it. Now let’s sit back and enjoy this race, shall we?” She looked over her shoulder at an usher, a lemur with his arms folded behind his back. “Samuel, darling, can you get us two flutes of bubbly?”

He nodded with a smile. “Right away, ma’am.” And then he flitted off.

Carmella scoffed. She was reminded of her days playing with Christine, feeling out of place in what was to her the biggest house in the world. “I’m drivin’, you know.”

“Then don’t drink too much,” Christine said. “And if you do, it’ll be all the more reason to hang around.”

Samuel returned with two petite wine glasses and a tall bottle of what Carmella was certain reigned from a certain region in France. He placed the glasses on the table between them, took his time uncorking the bottle, then poured them both a glass. He left the bottle with them, then promptly returned to his station a few feet away.

The two girls clinked glasses. “Cheers,” said Christine. “And good luck to Noah.”

“Cheers,” said Carmella, looking back towards the racing gate where she saw Noah waltz into his spot. “And good fuckin’ luck to Noah.”

The murmuring crowd grew silent as the time wound down to the pistol. An eerie pall of silence was broken suddenly by the bugle, loud and proud.

Bang!

The pop of a cap gun. The metallic twang of a dozen steel doors opening. And they’re off!

Twelve racers, a blur of pumping limbs and kicked-up dirt. Grimacing faces half-hidden by racing masks toiling in juxtaposition for a lead. Carmella could hear the rumbling of hoofs all the way from her balcony plus an imagined huff of sturdy breaths oxygenating Pheidippidean efforts that burned the hamstrings and chafed the lungs. Carmella’s eardrum rang against her friend’s shrill holler, joined by a cacophony of drunk race fans and rabid betters. Carmella’s head turned with the racers, eyes fixed on those red shorts. The number 14 had vanished within a flurry of whipping shirt fabric and tossed dirt clods. Middle of the pack, losing pace, Noah Ackhurst saw most of his opponents chugging ahead of him. No wins indeed.

Carmella stayed quiet in her seat. She took a derisive sip of Champagne. If it was of any quality, she didn’t notice. Anything would’ve tasted bitter to her in that moment watching Noah sprint fruitlessly to the back of his competitors. All because he had a nice ass. Me and my horse-fucked mind.

Christine wouldn’t shut up. Even as Noah languished near the end of the pack, she maintained a banshee howl which paused only for breaths and excited hoots. Carmella slumped in her chair, hiding half her grinning face behind her hand. And I missed this girl? She wondered with a chuckle.

Then came the bend, into the final stretch, and Number 14 started gaining. Slowly, steadily, at the grueling pace of some death march, Noah carved his way towards the front of the pack. 8th place, 7th, 6th. 5th through first were in an elongated clot just a few heads in front. He hauled into them full tilt, achieving 5th and then 4th within short order of each other.

Christine all but threw herself over the balcony she hopped and hollered so loudly. Carmella’s grin faltered into a look of shocked hope. No way. You’re shitting me. She remained unshitted as Noah broke into third halfway down the stretch. 2nd was quickly losing steam, powerless as Noah sprinted past into the back of the lead. Five, four, three links from the finish. Carmella leapt to her feet. Her eyes bugged. She started screaming too.

Noah met the lead less than a link from the finish. In one Wagenerian heave he leapt headfirst into the finish. The balcony was rife with shrill screams and heavy applause. A photo finish. The two girlfriends held each other and hopped in place like idiots, spilling their wine. Christine’s dress bounded around her legs in a floppy mess while Carmella’s bosom threatened to come spilling out of her shirt. It was a euphoria neither woman had expected when the bet was made, let alone counted on.

Suddenly, the revelry died. No winner had been declared, not yet. The two friends fell into eager silence as they held each other’s hands, gawking at the yonder jumbotron. A partially blurred image of the two racers appeared, and suddenly the winner was clear: Noah Ackhurst, Number 14, winner by a nose.

Screams abound. The two winners leapt into each other’s arms, mushing their cheeks together with deafening hollers going straight to the ears. Proud claps around the balcony. Noah was bent over at the middle of the track, pouring sweat, hiding his emotions behind a pinched hand as his runner-up gracefully patted him on the back, congratulating him.

“How much is it gonna be?” Carmella dared to ask when they let go of each other.

“21 to 2,” Christine said breathlessly. “For $100, that’s $1,150!” Christine squealed, but Carmella stood with her hands folded over her mouth.

“How do we get the money?” she asked.

“Oh, I’ll make sure I get it before you leave. That money’s yours, girl.”

“Oh. Well, how we gonna split it?”

“Split nothin’!” Christine scoffed. “You thought I was serious? I was fuckin’ with you. I didn’t think you’d win. That was all your bet. If it’ll make you feel any better, I’ll keep the $100. The $1050 is all yours.”

Carmella blinked and twitched her head, flummoxed. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t say nothin’, then.” She tapped Carmella’s shoulder. “Come on. Let’s go see this cute fella down at the winner’s circle. This wasn’t a big race, so it won’t be crowded.”

Christine guided Carmella back through the box where they ran a gauntlet of congratulations and applause to which Carmella could only smile and nod bashfully. She hated herself for it, but she pictured herself going on a shopping spree already. I’ll have to invite her to go with me. There’s gotta be some way to pay her back. Out of the box and into the main building the two meandered their way back outside where a smidgen of onlookers and photographers were gathered in a ring around the winner’s circle, an open crop of dirt surrounded by a white picket. Like Christine predicted, it was sparsely attended, although a racer with such long odds winning did earn some genuine admiration, especially for a rookie. Noah was there leaning against the fence with a modest medallion hanging from his neck. Lathered in sweat, his sorely strained leg muscles bulged within a glistening cocoon of wet horse fur. Carmella had thought he was cute from behind some binoculars several yards away. Up close, seeing him smile with those dashing topaz eyes and free of any mask, she saw that he wasn’t cute. He was gorgeous.

The two girls stopped at the fence to admire the handsome lad while he spoke to a journalist. Carmella’s lustful eyes found those dampened shorts of his when Christine leaned over and murmured. “You weren’t kidding, he is cute.”

Carmella cut a proud smirk. “Told you.”

“You work with horses, right?”

Carmella furrowed her brow and gave her friend a look. “I mean, yeah. I live with them. Why?”

“Any of them as cute as he is?”

Carmella gave a bemused smile. If she was after any horses like Noah, she would’ve found disappointment in the buff, gruff, beer-gutted bunch of brutes she fucked around with so regularly. “Mmmmmm, maybe. I dunno.”

Christine’s gaze swung back over to Noah like a claymore, landing on the lad’s midriff where she could see a rigid topography through a shirt made translucent by sweat. “I’d like to meet them sometime,” she said in a soft voice.

Carmella wasn’t sure who she was referring to, or who she was even talking to. She looked back at Noah, then back at Christine, then down into that big window in her dress and its long line of cleavage. Carmella didn’t know how she had missed it earlier, but it dawned on her now. She knew exactly what Christine was: a woman just like her. The most devilish grin pulled at Carmella’s lips. Very suddenly, she knew how to repay her friend.

As soon as Noah’s interview was done he made his way towards the circle’s exit. Carmella hurriedly waved at him and hollered, “Hey! Noaaaaah!” as if he wasn’t just a few yards away.

It startled Christine. “What are you doin’?”

Carmella ignored her. Noah whipped his head towards the two girls and came to a dead stop. Two buxom ladies, one of them shouting his name and waving at him. That was enough to get a man’s attention. His eyes lit up, and then he made his way towards them. Behind a beaming smile was Carmella’s pride. Off to a good start.

He strode to the fence to meet the two girls, towing an aura of sweat and effort which made both girls’ noses crinkle pleasantly. “Hey there,” he said in a voice that sounded even younger than he looked. “Y’all catch the race?”

“We sure did,” said Carmella. “You were amazing out there. We bet $100 on you. Best bet we ever made.” That got a sideways glance out of Christine who noticed Carmella’s use of the word ‘we’. She wouldn’t say anything, not when Carmella had made the call.

Noah’s eyes lit up. “Oh! Thank you! Ain’t many folks layin’ bets on me, not with the odds them bookies usually give me. $100? Y’all made a pretty penny.”

“We sure did.” Carmella produced her hand across the fence. “I’m Carmella. So nice to meet you.”

He took her hand with a tender grip, belying the strength in those sinewy arms of his. His palms were smooth, a sharp contrast to the calloused mitts she was used to groping her all over. “And it’s very nice to meet you too.” His eyes tracked over to Christine, or at least the gaping window in her dress which all but blinded him with tits. He was able to look her in the eye, hoping she hadn’t noticed his wandering gaze. She had, and so had Carmella.

“This is Christine, my best friend,” said Carmella.

Christine presented her hand. “Howdy,” she said in a calm, almost formal tone, much unlike the banshee Carmella had dealt with on the balcony less than ten minutes ago.

Noah cradled her hand with such a gentlemanly grace that both women expected him to kiss it. “Howdy doo, Christine. It’s very nice to meet you as well.”

Carmella noticed how reserved he had become while talking to Christine, certainly something to do with her fancy, clean dress and aristocratic air. Chipping the facade were quick glances at her cleavage. Carmella didn’t mind, not when she planned on showing him a whole lot more. If Christine thought anything of it, she didn’t say, though she secretly thanked the layer of makeup she had on for concealing the heat of her cheeks.

Christine let out a tiny sound as she cleared her throat. “Likewise,” she said.

Carmella was keen on her few words. Oh yeah, she thought with a smirk. This is happening. “You know, I saw you in my binoculars up on the balcony.”

“Oh yeah?” Noah said. “You were up in a box?” Her outfit made that a surprise.

“That’s right. I don’t know nothin’ about racin’, but I told myself I was gonna pick the cutest lookin’ stallion out on that track and bet on ‘em. I’m glad I did.” Another sideways glance from Christine.

Noah chuckled bashfully. “Oh, come on.”

“Nah, I mean it.” Carmella leaned onto the fence, settling her immense bosom into the cradle of her folded arms so that it swelled into the fabric of her sweat dampened shirt. The dark tint of her bra demonstrated a gargantuan cup size. In a deliberate, less-than-subtle move she moved her arms just a tad south so that the double-jut of her nipples were more than visible to him. “I saw you doin’ them stretches. Couldn’t keep my eyes off you.”

Noah’s smile faltered, then recovered as a stupefied grin. If his eyes had made trips into Christine’s ample chest, they found a place to live in Carmella’s vast estate. “Oh yeah?” he said, almost squeaking his voice.

The look Christine was giving her bulged with panic. She’s not actually doing this right now, is she? She wanted to say something. Whether that was to stop things or help them, she didn’t rightly know. Either way, she thought it better to keep her mouth shut. Carmella worked with horses. She knew what she was doing.

“Yeah,” Carmella said, biting her lip. She returned the favor with a southward trip of the eyes into Noah’s abdomen where his own sweat laden shirt was stuck to the contours like shrink wrap. A healthy V was carved between the pelvis, feeding into those tight red shorts and a noticeable cock bulge. Christine looked too and felt a heat in her face that could not be hidden with make up. There was heat somewhere else too, that which made her feet turn into one another. Carmella felt the same. She spoke in a low tone just enough for Noah to hear. “I think we wanna see more.”

There was that word again, ‘we’, something both Noah and Christine noticed. At once, Noah could see them with their clothes extinguished, those bountiful pale curves glistening for his enjoyment, illuminated by the light of some lurid place he could be whisked away to. He blinked and gulped. A fiercely blushing Christine could not look at neither her friend nor the handsome stud she openly pined for.

An uneasy chuckle out of Noah. “Oh yeah?” he repeated quietly before looking over at Christine. “You girls got a place where we can do that?” It wasn’t quite clear if she was on board or not, despite the great redness that had consumed her face. Carmella wondered the same, intently watching her friend as an answer concocted behind those bewildered eyes.

“Yeah,” Christine said at last. “Matter a’ fact, I do.”

Noah and Carmella both lit a bright smile. “And where might that be?” Noah asked.

Christine looked around, double checking that nobody was listening. “There’s a VIP box on the second to top floor, far end of the hallway. A friend of my daddy’s owns it, but he’s on vacation and doesn’t let nobody in it. Meet us there.” The sudden conviction took Carmella by pleasant surprise.

Noah nodded solemnly. “Alright. Give me twenty minutes to clean up for y’all.”

“Better yet, don’t,” Carmella said. “Save some a’ that stink for us, handsome~” Christine grimaced, not because she disliked the idea, but because she had to fight an expression of excitement. Indeed, Noah’s post-race mephitis was an intense draw she imagined being smeared onto her most pleasantly.

Noah chuckled. “Well, alright. I’ll slip into something more comfortable and sneak that way. See you ladies there.”

Carmella shared one more salacious look before she and Christine peeled from the fence. “See you there~”

The two ladies made a quiet getaway towards the stairs, Christine looking dumbstruck. Once they had escaped the crowd of people, she grabbed Carmella’s arm and hissed, “Have you lost your fucking mind?”

Carmella looked ahead, smirking. “Never had it to begin with.”

Christine scoffed. “I don’t see you for years and this is how you spend our reunion?”

“Yes.”

Christine rubbed her forehead. “I can’t believe this. I should’ve said something.”

“You did say something. You said you were itchin’ to get fucked.”

“Shhhhhh! Don’t say that.”

“Am I wrong? I saw the way you were lookin’ at him.”

Christine looked straight ahead so Carmella wouldn’t see the pout on her lips. “Yeah… But you don’t have to say it.”

Carmella tapped her friend’s shoulder with her fist. “Chill out. Let’s just get to that box and wait for our friend.”

Christine sighed. “Yeah, but first I gotta get a key.”

What sounded like a daunting task was as easy as waltzing into the main office in front of everyone there and snatching it from the wall box. Being the track owner’s daughter had its benefits, among others. They found the hall with her daddy’s friend’s box empty except for the muffled sounds of merriment coming from the booth adjacent. Christine fumbled with the keys before unlocking the door and opening it. It was similar in style to her daddy’s box just above them, albeit smaller. Unlit and unoccupied, it possessed an eerie sense of foreboding like entering some backstage or school after hours, where magic shatters against stark reality.

The two girls locked the door behind them and took a seat on the center couch. The next race was starting outside. Christine could hear her daddy’s voice just a few feet above them. The bugle sounded through the speakers, followed by the crack of a starting gun, all of it muffled through the glass balcony windows. The girls were mostly silent through it all, sitting across from each other while listening and waiting for Noah. They were just beginning to think he had flaked on them when a trio of polite and quiet knocks echoed from the door.

Christine all but launched to her feet. “Oh fuck. He’s here.”

Carmella got up and made her way to open the door. “Will you relax? He’s not gonna kill us.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about,” Christine hissed, following her. “If you were fucking those horses you work with behind your daddy’s back, you’d be nervous too.”

“Oh, funny you say that, ‘cause I do that all the time and I never get nervous.”

Christine stopped dead in her tracks. “Wait… What?”

But Carmella didn’t answer. She was already at the door. It opened to reveal Noah in a simple gray sweatshirt and black sweatpants. A patient smile rode his face while his hands rested in the sweatshirt pockets. He hadn’t showered, evident by the dirt which remained stuck to his neck fur and the saline smell of sweat that remained as acrid since the winner’s circle.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi,” said Carmella back, widening the door for him. “Come on in~”

He obeyed, soon noticing the dumbstruck Christine who was still processing the fact Carmella fucked her equine coworkers. “Well, hi there. Christine, was it?”

She blinked and gulped. “That’s right. Noah Ackhurst?” As if it could’ve been anyone else.

He bowed his head. “The one and only. Happy y’all made some money off my first win.”

Carmella shut the door and locked it. She came up from behind him and laid a hand on his lower back, coming around to lay her bosom on his arm and feel how dense it was. “Mmm, I think we’re happier. We’re gonna make a whole lot more than just money right now, aren’t we?”

There was that stupid grin of his. “I think we are. A helluva way to celebrate, I’ll say.”

So would Christine. Stewing in her arousal, she took off her hat and set it on the backrest of the sofa next to her along with her purse. Noah eyed her intensely as he and Carmella strode forth. “You look mighty fine in that dress Ms.- Sorry, I didn’t catch a last name.”

Christine smiled bashfully. “McKinley.” She saw his eyes widen. “Yes, that McKinley. My daddy owns the track.”

“O-oh,” he said, putting on a shaky smile. “Well… Your, uh… Your daddy has a mighty fine track. I’m glad-” He cleared the lump in his throat. “I’m glad I got my first win on it.” Some uproarious laughter from above them, that of Mr. McKinley and the ignorance of his daughter’s sins beneath his feet.

Christine was just as nervous, squeezing her hands together in front of her thighs. “I am too.”

“I am three,” chimed Carmella. “Now enough chit chat. Let’s see what’s under here.” Noah hadn’t a moment to react before his sweatshirt was being lifted off him. Unveiled was an immaculately chiseled six-pack, each stud of abdominal muscle perfectly squared from its neighbor in symmetry with the flat, sinew-rippled pectorals just above them. The sweatshirt wasn’t on the ground before Carmella started swimming her hands around his topography. “Look at you,” she breathed. “So lean and handsome. I could get used to you.”

His delight was evident from the bite of his lip and the growth in his underwear, what showed itself against the fabric with such urgency it frightened Christine. “You’re tellin’ me, sweet thing.” He turned to face her, bringing those long arms around her and settling on the small of her back where he pulled her into him. Her airbags flattened against him, all but spilling out the top of her shirt as they made their first kiss. A simmering Christine was not soon forgotten, as after the second long smooch Noah looked over at her and beckoned with his hand. “You too.”

Christine had to let go of a tiny sigh, her inner temperature was close to boiling. She made just one step before hastily kicking out of her heels and closing the gap. Carmella scooted to Noah’s left side, leaving room on his right. Christine accepted his hand, and was drawn in to create the threesome by a stern yet gentlemanly pull.

There at his shoulder she was greeted by his muzzle, big and strong. She was not prepared for his kiss, what fell about her mouth like some big, fleshy claw. Her head lurched back, glasses askew, a hand going out at her side ready to push the intrusion away, at least until his lips corrected. They found the plush shape of her mouth, locking gently and imbuing the taste of his tongue, fleshy and masculine. Her hand came forward, holding him by the midriff so that she could feel the steely slate of his deltoid which she was obliged to massage. They made out softly, each breath a draw on each other’s scent.

Carmella was more than happy to watch from the side, massaging Noah’s chest and nuzzling his bicep. Christine took a moment to take off her glasses, leaving her soft, pale face naked for Noah to smooch. Carmella was kind enough to take them from her so she wouldn’t have to worry. While the two lovers got acquainted, Carmella peeled out of her shirt and unhooked her bra, leaving herself bare to the waist. Two gargantuan breasts fell into their natural heap, soon straddling Noah’s arm with a kind softness that made the stallion bristle delightfully. Carmella laid Christine’s glasses atop her shirt on the floor and resumed massaging Noah’s richly carved abs.

“Here, girl,” she said. “Let me help you with this.” She reached behind Christine for her dress zipper. It came down with a fluid tug, parting the flaps and exposing some soft, curvaceous back with a sorely burdened beige bra strap bridging the shoulders.

Christine parted from Noah’s lips with a gasp as she felt the cool AC spill into her back. “I wanted him to do it,” she pouted. She saw Carmella’s bare tits and felt a pang of jealousy at their immensity.

“Sorry,” said Carmella. “It was bothering me.”

Noah, the gentleman, chimed in. “Here, pretty girl. Let me do the rest, then.” He reached behind her for the dress flaps and peeled them off the shoulders and down the arms. Christine’s own bloated chest hovered within some massive velvet cups, what were already dotted by her thoroughly stiffened teats. Noah tweeted through his teeth. “Goddamn, you’re so pretty.” He looked at Carmella. “You too. Fuck. What I do to deserve all this?”

Carmella scoffed and side hugged him. “We told you, silly. Made us some money.”

He laughed. “Oh yeah.”

“And we’ve yet to repay you~” purred Christine before her arms went behind her to unclasp her bra. It fell from her chest, leaving free her own pair of angelically gossamer breasts to stare back at Noah with broad, soft brown nipples.

Noah could only let out an impressed hiss through his jaw as he went to cradle one breast. Bony fingers met the sweetest flesh, what rolled and dimpled nicely around his kind inspection and cheeky nipple flicks. An appreciative gasp sucked into Christine before she quickly shed the rest of her dress to around her ankles, leaving her in just her skin colored panties so crudely sunken into her moist cunt. She closed in on Noah for more kisses, deeper this time, inviting his hand to her rump which he groped with authority.

Carmella wasn’t so eager to just watch anymore. She tugged Noah’s arm. “C’mon, now. Couch, please.” Simple words for a serious demand. Noah followed with Christine in tow, all but glued to his lips as he was forcefully sidestepped to the front of the sofa. Carmella chucked him into it where he landed on his ass with an “Oof,” legs open, dick chubbed against the crotch of his sweatpants like a third leg. He saw Christine’s eyes widen before she scurried onto the cushion next to him, all curled up on her knees with her chest pressed back into his shoulder. Carmella did the same to his other side, breasts in a jiggly animation with every direction she moved. Christine was making out with the stud while Carmella did away with his pesky sweatpants and underwear. The waistbands were pulled down to reveal that heavy fuckstick all mottled in pink, white, and gray charcoal. It swung into symmetry from his thigh, hanging over Carmella’s arm with a phallic temperature and heft. It distracted Christine from his mouth. Watching it with one eye as it swayed into place and grew, she felt her insides tighten and her flower burn even hotter.

“Looooooooook at that~” purred Carmella. The pants and boxers were jerked to his mid-thigh before she gripped him mid-shaft with an eager hand, going to work with some steady strokes.

Noah winced and pulled from Christine. “Easy girl. Whoo… It’ll get hard on its own.” Indeed, it was already standing on its own power, albeit without the exact firmness both girls desired. Christine saw the intermedial ring so far below the flat-rimmed horse tip, wondering if she could contain him that far.

“I know it will,” Carmella said. “But I wanna get there faster.” Her hand was soft but confident, radiating the experience of a woman who’d had a train ran on her in her first experience with some stallions.

Noah huffed through his first twang of delight. “Oh, it’s faster alright. Damn.”

Another hand came from his other side. Just as soft, but much less sure, it caressed that massive breeder by the neck, feeling the bridled potential of a huge flare and putting a stop to Carmella’s strokes. Christine glided her fingers down the swell of his cock muscle, down to where his giant orbs hung in a loose, black leather purse.

“So fucking big,” she whispered. In the absence of her glasses she squinted her eyes, drawing an intense scrutiny on the huge pecker which she stroked. “I don’t know what to do with it.”

“I have an idea,” quipped Carmella.

“Let her do what she wants,” said Noah. He kissed Carmella before she could retort. He further placated her with a finger that went into her crotch, unbuttoning and unzipping the jeans for a feel of her scorching hot loins. Carmella whined pathetically before squirming the rest of the way out of her jeans and panties, leaving some bright white legs to squirm merrily as Noah made his entrance on her feminism with two friendly fingers.

While her best friend moaned softly on the other side, Christine sat upright next to Noah’s lap so that she stared down at his pillar. Her face came down onto the tip, delivering the tiniest smooch before her mouth parted to his girth and absorbed the head.

Noah winced. “Ohhhhh, shit.” He watched the upper portion of his cock vanish behind Christine’s cheeks which bulged around his cock head. Scalding mouth flesh electrified him up until his tip made an entrance on her throat.

Head down, hair drooping, jaw gaped, Christine gagged. “Ulk…”

“Easy,” said Carmella. Noah took a break from fingering her so she could help her friend. She collected some hair and placed it on Christine’s neck so it wouldn’t spill into Noah’s lap and distract her. “Relax. Chill.”

Christine came back up like a diver. Shclllllllp! Her mouth came off, wreathed in spit. She took a deep breath and jerked Noah’s dick, assertively this time. “I know what I’m doing,” she declared before going right back into it. “Ulk.”

Lower, deeper. Noah was on her gullet with all that hot, musty cockflesh burning on her tongue and making her eyes water. Some sucking gasps rattled out her mouth, blowing her cheeks out and showering his balls with hot air. “Ulf… Ulf… Ulk…” She chanted to herself. Relax. Relax. Relax. You’ve practiced this so many times. The horse dildo in her closet at home could attest as much. But the real deal was proving difficult, especially with an audience. Relax. She did, and with closed eyes she pushed the extra inch to clog her throat with some fat, pulsing horse cock. “Ulk-!”

Noah let out a long sigh. “Fuuuuuuuuuuuck… That’s it, Christy, baby.” He put a mitt to the back of her neck and grabbed a fistful of her hair just as she started to bob.

“Ulk. Ulk. Uck. Urk. Ulk.” He pulsed against the tongue. That equine flavor melted against her senses and collected at the back of her throat as a salty liquor. She would pause to breathe. “Mwuhhhh…” Mouth still around his cock, her lips would suck to his girth and glide with rude suction sounds to the swell of his summit before returning with a solid plummet. “Schllllllllll-Ulk.”

Noah was in bliss, narrowing his eyes through the grip of her throat and mouth. Carmella couldn’t help but be impressed. “Damn, Christine. You never told me you had all that in you. I need to bring your ass back to the farm.” Noah was too lost in a fog of delight to ask who and what was waiting at the farm.

Chistine gobbed him a few more times before coming up with a crisp gasp. Drool fell from her O-shaped mouth, collecting atop his cockhead in a silky puddle. She jerked him hard now, all the bashfulness having melted down her thigh. She panted hard. “Fuck… Oh my God… I’ve wanted this all my life.” She planted a matronly smooch on the rim of his cocktip. “I’m so fucking hot right now. I can’t…”

“I see that, girl,” said Noah, his eyes on her plump, healthy ass. A gruff hand found it and wandered into the seat of her panties. The middle finger wormed into the warmth of her crack, passing her leathery pucker and finding the blistering swamp that was her cunny. Just a prod made her shiver and gasp. “Wet like a fucking storm.” He drilled her to the middle knuckle, forming a tight curl which pressed into her walls. Christine’s head swooned backwards. An open mouth let loose her first moan.

“Ohhh…” She shivered hard against him. “Fuck… I want you inside me so bad. Oh my God…”

“Mmm, I can tell, sweetheart.” He gave Carmella a look. The message was loud and clear, and Carmella scooted away from them to make room. Noah rubbed his free hand down his pubis. “Take a seat, girl.”

Christine sat up. His hand came out of her panties so that she could slide them off her legs, freeing the unctuous swamp that was her cunt and its gnarled pink flaps all open and wet. A pale leg was swung over his lap to mount him. He rubbed her thighs while she took his pecker from his belly and aimed it skyward, accidentally bumping it into her pubis.

“Holy fuck…” she hissed, having to make extra room for it so that her chalice hovered above the tip.

Noah gave a smug grin. “Big enough for you, girl?”

“I’ll say,” chimed Carmella.

A blushing Christine clenched her jaw. “Hush, both of you.” They obeyed, staying quiet as they watched her crown Noah’s pecker with hot, malleable woman flesh. The lips sank in against his warhammer and parted with some added pressure. Her mouth fell open around a small gasp, what escalated into a shuddering moan when she lowered herself further and swallowed the mighty breadth of his horse cock. Her head straightened up, open mouthed, closed eyes, a twitching jaw. “Ohhhhhh… Fuck me… Yes~” Her teeth sank into her lip. Gripping that hellacious rod with all her feminine might was a bitch and half, but equal parts blessing with how he pulsed and throbbed inside her. The cunt sank into his flesh by a visible degree, bringing rise to an ornery row of cock veins which she consumed with every inch she lowered herself by.

Noah showed his appreciation with a deep massage on her thighs, kneading their blubber and letting his head slump into the backrest with a sigh. “Ohhhhhhhh fuuuuuck… Goddamn, that pussy feels so good.”

Christine eked out an embarrassed laugh. “Hahahhhhh… Ohhhh… Thank you… Oh fuck… I can’t… I can’t~” So she pleaded while absorbing more of that exhaustive breeding pillar until she had him to her limit, strangling him just short of mid-shaft in scalding hot woman flesh. A rapid quake took hold of her hamstrings, what required her to grab his dense forearms for support. Sharp inhales would suck into her lungs just short of hyperventilation. Her head lurched backwards, a cascade of auburn luxury falling down her back as she moaned at the ceiling. “Ohhhhhh~”

“Mmmmmmm, that’s it baby girl~” growled Noah, enjoying his fingers within the deep core of her leg meat. “Ride that dick for me.” She obeyed, managing her way back to the flare and revealing the sheen she’d coated him in before covering it again with a smooth plummet. It began a steady rhythm of ups and downs, triggering more sincere moans and involuntary spasms. She gripped his wrists for dear life, afraid that the exquisite bliss laying siege to her womanhood would sap her strength and send her tumbling off his throne. He held on tight for her. Gruff hands explored her curvature from the flanks of her ass to the inward dip at the waist and those plump tits so persuasive in their hypnosis.

Carmella touched herself to the sight of them, an idle and eager observer. Her toes curled and dug at the carpet. Arousal drooled from her cunt, piling into a sizeable wet spot on the upholstery like what fell in long, tickling tears down the bottom half of Noah’s cock and onto his balls. Carmella’s gaze was with her friend’s butt and the sorely gaped flesh hole just south of a petitely puckered star.

Noah caught her out of the corner of his eye, almost having forgotten her. “Nice friend you got here,” he huffed.

Carmella chuckled. “Mmm… I’m glad you like her.”

“Ohhh, I like her alright.” His hands made a whispering trip down her tummy and around the hips to her ass which he gave a hearty double squeeze. “You like me too, don’t you girl?”

It took a moment for Christine to answer, her jaw having fallen into a permanent O-shape to let out some barely stifled moans. “Huhhhhh~! Yes… Oh fuck… Yes~ I love it so much~ Oh God. Yes… Yes~” She drilled herself to the deepest she could bring him and rolled her hips into a womanly lemniscate.

“Yeeeeeah, I know it.” Noah’s hand came off her haunch for a quick, cheek-rippling spank. Whap!

“Ohhhh~!” chirped Christine. Her body seized him in a tight clench which imploded her tummy and bulged the glutes against her haunch blubber.

“Mmmm, like that?” Noah asked.

“Yes…”

“Mmhmm, I know you do.” Another spank, harder this time. WHAP!

“Ohh~!” Her riding resumed, bringing that palm-sized red mark on her cheek up and down with her. Joyous sounds echoed through the lounge, a woman in ecstasy and the rude squelches of her pussy being stuffed.

Carmella could’ve appreciated it more if it wasn’t so loud. “Quiet, now,” she hissed. “Don’t want your daddy hearin’ us.” That didn’t stop her from attending to her own pleasure and making herself pant softly.

Christine choked back her voice, but refused to slow down. “Mmm… Sorry. I- Huhhh… God… I can’t fucking help it. Ohhhh~!” Faster, deeper. The weight of her body fluff would float in the air as she came down, crashing on her limit and then slinging back up with a curvaceous heft upon the rebound, again and again until Noah’s cock ring was lathered in thickish white pussy cream. An especially pathetic whimper crooned from her throat. “Oh fuck! I’m cumming! Ohhhhh~! I’m fucking cumming!” Faster. Harder.

Noah grumbled through clenched teeth and an impending climax spiked by Christine’s shrill voice.. “Fuck. Hnnnnnn, so am I. Ahhhhhhhhh shit.”

Calamity inbound, Carmella broke from her masturbation to stand up and turn around so that she was in a partial stoop right next to Chistine, shoulder to shoulder. A pussy-slicked hand went around Christine’s neck and covered her mouth, stifling what was ready to be a revealing caterwaul. She planted a kiss on Christine’s shoulder as it passed her face.

“Yeah, cum on that dick,” she hissed, repeating a command she was used to hearing from the fellas back at the farm. “Fill that pussy up.”

They met her to the letter. Christine came crashing down in one final heave of the hips as every muscle and tendon blew into a rattling bulge against the skin. What would’ve been an ear piercing shriek blew out the nose as her hips bucked and spasmed against Noah’s rod and bled forth a surge of golden warmth. His orgasm struck less than a moment after with a train of cum spurts blowing into her velvet and spitting out from her lips into a spastic plume. Noah contained his voice into a sputter and a ferocious grimace. Nostrils flaring, he poured into Christine’s bliss with a barrage of throbs which she met with sharp spasms and clenches to create a blissful feedback loop.

Carmella was louder than both of them. “Awwwwwwww, yeaaaaah~ That’s it, girl. That’s what I wanted to see.” She laid her free hand on Christine’s pubis, feeling each throb hammer against her fingertips and into the womb just beneath.

Noah was left with his head slumped back against the headrest in a deafening hum of dopamine, his chiseled chest rising sharply. Christine had to forcibly pry Carmella’s hand off her mouth to get a whooping breath.

“Hahhh! Huhhh… Oh my fucking God… Holy shit… Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh~” She swam a finger around her clit. “So good. So fucking good. Fuck.” She gulped and wiped her lips with the back of her wrist. A grimace twisted her face as she realized Carmella was pasted to her with a greedy paw laid atop her pubes. “Get off me… And ew, did you finger yourself?” She wiped her mouth again, harder this time. “Pth. Ew!” Her mild disgust did not hinder the sharp twitches which numbed her thighs.

Carmella scoffed. “Pff. Oh, hush. Don’t act like you had a mouth full of horse dick a few seconds ago.” She deliberately swiped up a fingerful of Chistine’s pussy cream off Noah’s cock root and laid it atop her outstuck tongue. “Mmmmm~ I can tell you enjoyed it.”

Christine’s whole face turned red. “You’re weird.”

Carmella gave her a friendly spank, making her yelp. “And you’re sexy.”

Noah chuckled. “Both of you girls are.” He grew soft quickly, forcing him to carefully pry Christine off his lap and uncork a sinful deluge of hot horse ichor. Plblblblphhhh… A sickly sound, what brought a wave of euphoric fizz up Christine’s tummy and made her nipples restiffen. Noah’s cock fell to his abs with a meaty flop, all soaked in his and Christine’s cum. Strong, sinewy arms laid his conquest beside him with gentlemanly care. “And how was that, pretty lady?”

Christine nuzzled her blushing face into his shoulder. Sensation would not return to her shellshocked legs for some time, though they could squirm together lovingly as a fat slag of his cum would brap and ooze from her delightfully sore pussy all gaped and ravaged.

“I loved it~” she said softly.

“Mmm, me too,” Noah said, then shared a couple tiny kisses with her.

He was interrupted by a polite hand on his shoulder. “Y’all are cute, but it’s my turn now~” Noah pried his lips from Christine to look over and see Carmella sliding off the couch to her knees in front of him. At the altar of his loins she found a half-deflated pecker glazed in cum and flared at the head. She took it in one hand, feeling like a limp python all slimy and warm. Her face went into his man purse, between the orbs where a small kiss brought a taste of hot horse musk, saline sweat, and some softly drizzled girl cum. Noah and Christine saw the upper half of her salacious expression as she lapped at his sack skin, collecting that sweet ichor while her hand tried stroking his pecker back to life.

Noah winced. “Damn, you’re a freak.”

Carmella had a mischievous grin as her face came up from his balls and started smooching the flank of his cock root. “You ain’t my first rodeo, boy.”

A long sigh from Noah. “No, I ain’t.” Christine squirmed aside him, eager to get back into place between Noah’s legs but too afraid of what Carmella might do should she try and get in the way.

“You better have a second round loaded for me,” Carmella warned with an added choke on his dick.

He hissed. “Ssst… I do, just give me a second. You gonna kill me with that hand of yours.”

“Mmmm, hold on. I know what’ll kill you quicker.” She straightened on her knees, hovering the grand dual rotundity of her chest in front of his package which she aimed straight up. One at a time she brought each tit unto his lap, swallowing that supremely sensitive fuck stick into the fabulously soft trench of her cleavage. She pulled him to the sternum and squeezed her breasts together, crossing those bright brown nipples together and swirling them into a convecting double serpentine.

A groan out of Noah whose face mirrored the agony in his dick. “Ohhhhhhhhhhh fuuuuuuuck.” His head slumped back into the sofa with a thump and a bounce. “Shit, that’s so fucking good. Now that’s gonna kill me. Whoo…”

“Mmm, I thought it would,” purred Carmella, rewarding him with a tight squeeze. Her tongue lapped at his pizzle hole, drawing at a tiny reservoir of cum. Two sleazy eyes watched his reaction as she laid a smooch on his cock head, then another, all while maintaining the sweet up, down, and around of her tits on his pole which she could feel growing stiff.

Christine could feel him vibrate and quiver, a reaction which carried over into herself with a pair of squirmy legs still numbed by her orgasm. It was simply too much to leave alone. Christine slid to her knees on the floor on Carmella’s right, urging her friend aside with an invasion of personal space.

Carmella cocked an eyebrow at her and pried her lips off Noah’s dick. “Excuse me,” she said. “You had your turn.”

“Yeah, I’ll excuse you,” Christine said. “I made you a thousand bucks today, girl. You’re gonna make room.”

Noah chuckled drunkenly. “Easy, girls. No fightin’ over little ol’ me. Y’all can share.”

Carmella harrumphed. “Don’t start usin’ that on me now,” she said while pivoting around Noah’s cock so that she was perpendicular to him with her tits still latched to the shaft, facing Christine on the other side.

Christine ignored her, too enraptured by that monument to equine masculinity towering in front of her. “Ain’t nothin’ little about you, boy~” She drew her face into it, cradling it by the flare like it was the back of some lover’s head so she could kiss it. A quick scoop of her breasts brought them atop Noah’s thigh and around his phallus, swaddling it in a quartet of massive, pale, soft jugs. A truce was had by both girls as they pressed into him, rubbing, swaddling, rolling. Soft lips and dextrous tongues made merry across the sharp angles that made his cock flare, once again the source of some translucent cock oil. Such kind strokes were like razors to Noah’s penis, now at its fullest stature as was inevitable against such ardent worship. He would bite his lip and hiss through his nose, all while admiring the beauty of two country human girls making sweet love to his manhood.

Enough was enough. “Alright. I’m ready to pop. Carmella, you want this dick or not?”

Carmella came off his scepter and licked her lips clean. “Was wondrin’ when you’d ask.” She stood up and came around to Christine who was much more reluctant to stop. She had to be pulled away by a ponytail. “C’mon, you. On the couch.” Christine obeyed with a pout, letting Noah’s dick flop back onto his abs. As soon as she made it to her feet she was guided by Carmella to sit back on the couch. She watched as her friend came looming over her, planting both knees astride Chistine’s legs as if ready to ride her.

Christine gawked up at her, frozen within the shadow of Carmella’s intimidating curvature. “What- What are you doing?”

“Lookin’ at you,” said Carmella before coming all the way down so that the two girls were chest-to-chest, Christine being pinned to the cushion with Carmella’s blubbery backside atop her lap with those two ornery holes aimed back at whoever would come and claim them. Extreme anticipation made Christine shiver, but beneath the exquisite softness of her old friend mixed with a blissful heat and a womanly smell she learned to relax. She laid her hands on Carmella’s back. “Comfy?” Carmella asked from within a draping frame of hair that tickled Christine’s cheeks.

A fiercely blushing Christine nodded. “Y-yeah…”

“Good.” Carmella looked over at Noah. “C’mon boy. You ain’t just gonna watch, are you?”

Noah had to remind himself, even after that first terrific orgasm, that this was all really happening and that he wasn’t dreaming. “No ma’am~” He jerked to his feet and wheeled around Carmella’s backside, wagging that sore battering ram ahead of him until it settled straight ahead, aimed perfectly at Carmella’s wet and weeping pussy. He clutched her by the hip and himself by the hilt of his cock, keeping it straight as it was introduced to her cavity with a wet skwish. A firm press and he had her petals gaped to the breadth of his flare.

An instant gasp and shudder from Carmella. “Ohhhhhh, yes~ Mmmmmf…”

Noah held her with both hands and made a slow plunge into her, halting below the intermedial ring. It was more than enough, making his head swoon backwards with lazily crossed eyes and a joyous croon. “Ohhhh, yeah. That’s fucking it right there, baby.” He looked down and gave her ass a swat. Swack! A gelatinous bounce and ripple. Carmella murred and began drifting up his pole like a good girl, moaning quietly. “That’s it. That’s what I like to see,” whispered Noah. Another spank, harder this time. SWACK! There grew a red splotch in her pale, swollen hemisphere. It glided what length it could with a sensual ease Noah appreciated. “Yeah, girl. You know what you’re doin’.” SWACK!

Carmella rolled her head and moaned. “Ohhhhh… I love it so much. Huhhhh…”

Christine watched her doleful expression gasp and contort. Having Carmella rock on top of her created a nice simulation of Noah’s cock back inside of her. Their nipples would glance off another with each sweep of Carmella’s body. So close, so intimate, Carmella’s beauty was inescapable. Without warning,Christine took Carmella by her face and pulled it down for a kiss.

It was a surprise for sure, but not one Carmella would resist. Without any loss of effort on Noah’s pole she locked lips with Christine, making out with just enough force so that the smacking of lips matched her squelching cunt. Both of them blushed hard with embarrassment, what pierced them even more deeply when they heard Christine’s father laugh some more on the balcony above. So merciful that he remained ignorant of what his daughter was up to. What a boon to Christine’s pleasure that discovery was so close.

“Awwww, that’s cute,” Noah huffed before sinking his fingers into the flesh of Carmella’s waist. That put a stop to her riding just in time for him to wind his ass back and throw a long, even rhythm of scrotum-swinging strokes. Ffup-ffup-ffup-ffup-ffup-ffup-ffup-ffup-

Carmella’s lips were ripped from Christine’s, forced into a wide open yowl. “Huhhh! Huhhhh! Oh God… Ohhhh…” She rocked with each impact, hair swinging and dragging across Christine’s face. Her fingers clenched into the sofa’s backrest.

It was extra loud for Christine who cringed just inches below the source. Not that she blamed her; she knew exactly how good it felt. She laid a calming pair of hands on the back of Carmella’s neck. “Shhhh, quiet girl. You gonna get us in trouble.”

Noah, in the middle of fucking her, jerked his head at her. “Cover her mouth. Mmf. Gonna get real loud in here otherwise. Ooooh~” His lips pulled into a sneer from such tight pussy grip and a returning burn in his muscles, not quite fully recovered from his sprint. He took a brief moment to lean into her and readjust her grip to her shoulders. The resulting thrusts were shorter, faster, harder, drilling to the surface some thickish flecks of pussy cream and dribbling them to the sofa cushion. Ffup-fupp-fupfupfupfupfupfupfupfup-!

That got Carmella going. “Huhhhhh! Ohhh! Fuck yes! Ohhhhhhhhhhh shit! OhhhhhMmmmmmm~!” Her moan was muffled by Christine’s hand which felt the buzz and whistle of such erotic sounds blowing from her nose. It couldn’t hide the delight in Carmella’s mien, nor the liberal rush of flesh which rippled up her torso from her behind. Christine felt all but penetrated herself. Her free hand went into the gnarled morass that was her cunt, wincing against the tender feeling of her equine-battered cavity. Soon she was making noises too, keeping it only so quiet as the pleasure inevitably built towards a second climax.

Noah thought to tell her to stay quiet too, but with his own building delight and burning hamstrings he could muster nothing but a masculine grunt. “Hrrrnff…” The sinews blew into the skin of his legs, intricate machinery at their most worn, ready to pull into catastrophe but too driven by the squeeze of girlflesh and the glow of sex. He stared down at the sweet curvature of Carmella’s back, the fray of soft brown hair that he’d fucked into an unkempt mess. There was Christine below, holding to Carmella’s mouth and tending to her nethers for dear life. Muffled cries of ecstasy blew to the tempo of ruder, wetter smacks of flesh on flesh. A vanishing horse cock lathered in veins and soaked with woman batter sped into a blur. Noah growled.

“Hahhhhhhh… Gonna cum again… Fuck! Hahhhhhhhh~! I’m cumming!”

Carmella begged him the best she could through Christine’s palm, but no words were necessary. The shrill pitch and impressive volume she had achieved in spite of the mute was message enough. The machinery grinded to a halt with Noah’s final few thrusts. With bulging glutes and spasming thighs he pushed to Carmella’s limit, spitting his load into her womb in a few aching pulses. The cords in his neck floated to the surface in a body-wide flex of muscle, what sank his fingers into her shoulders with bruising, arm-rattling force.

Carmella’s moans hit a shrill peak before pitching into silence. A sudden bucking of hips and cratering abs jittered her body which milked Noah’s cock in a storm of feminine spasms. Spindles of cum gurgled from around his pole. The scrotum shrank to the shape of his balls when they rose to the task of unloading all they had left on the quaking Carmella. Noah fought for his life just to stay on his two feet, breathing hard and sweating buckets.

“Oh fuck… Holy shiiiiit… God fucking damn…” Upon gaining some strength in his legs he withdrew from Carmella’s pussy until the flare popped out with a meaty flop. Carmella gasped and shuddered at the same time a fat slug of horse cum belched out of her, falling into a boorish ooze which plopped into a sinful pile at the sofa’s edge. More of it gurgled out when she spasmed again, adding to the coppery bouquet.

Christine watched the deluge from aside Carmella’s chest. She felt the heat of it radiating against her buttocks just an inch away, so close to where her masturbation had reached a fever pitch. She experienced her second orgasm, a more reserved affair without the aid of Noah’s cock, though it had done more than enough previously.

Carmella slumped atop Christine in the middle of her climax, hugging her through the jitters and nuzzling her neck where she could soothe herself on the softness of those long auburn locks.

“That’s thanks for making the bet for me,” she whispered into Christine’s ear.

A soft chortle. “You paid me back and then some.” Then she kissed Carmella’s cheek.

There was a sudden impact next to them as Noah’s butt came crashing into the couch cushion. “Whoo!” he hooted, penis flopping about all wet and heavy. It was down for the count, KO’d after two good rounds. None of them would’ve asked any more of it. “I’m beat. Y’all got me sweatin’ some more. Helluva way to celebrate my first win, tell you what. Whew.” He wiped the sweat from his brow with his palm. He looked over and a bosom sandwich on PAWG bread. “I appreciate y’all bringin’ me here, but we’re gonna have to clean all this up. Be rude to stain your daddy’s buddy’s couch like this.”

Just like that, Christine seemed to remember where she was. The afterglow of two terrific orgasms fled her in an instant. “Oh shit.” She all but shoved Carmella off her before sitting up and assessing the damage: several obese puddles of rapidly drying horse cum reeking up the place. “Shit shit shit! We gotta clean this up.”

“Easy,” Carmella said with a grimace. Her pussy was sore and her legs still shook with numbness. “Nobody knows we’re in here. We got time.”

“All it takes is one person to come looking for us!” Christine got to her feet, slinging a tendril of cum from her chalice and onto the floor. “Shit!” she hissed.

“Hey, hey, hey! Calm down,” Noah insisted. He stood up with a wheeze. “You girls clean yourselves in the bathroom. I’ll take care of the mess here. There a wash closet or something somewhere?”

Christine cleared her throat, embarrassed. “Behind the bar. There should be cleaning supplies.”

“See? Nothin’ to worry about. Let me clean the couch and you girls worry about yourselves.”

Christine looked guilty. “Are you sure?”

Noah leaned in and swung a hand into her ass. Whap! “I said go and get clean. Let me handle this.”

Christine recoiled from his spank, blushing. “OK! OK.”

Carmella had to be helped to her feet in order to follow Christine to the bathroom. It was spacious enough for the both of them, albeit lacking in any supplies for bathing other than a sink, some toilet paper, and paper towels. They spent their clean up in awkward silence, stealing glances at their reflection in the mirror and seeing how ridiculous they looked.

“Well, that wasn’t how I planned on spending today,” Christine said.

“You’re welcome,” Carmella said.

Christine scowled at her. She crossed her arms in front of her breasts as if they hadn’t been squashed against Carmella’s just a few moments ago. “I’m just hopin’ nobody finds us on the way out.”

“And do what? Get the owner’s daughter in trouble?” Carmella gave her girlfriend a swat in the flank, right where Noah had just got her. Christine lurched away from the strike with a blush and a grimace. “Shut up and get your pretty ass back out there and put some clothes on, girl.”

A flushed Christine headed out the door. “Shoulda never made that bet for you.”

Carmella smirked, having learned long ago when to tell Christine was lying. “Yeah, whatever you say.”

The nude ladies exited the bathroom to find Noah back in his sweats, rubbing away at the upholstery with some pungent cleaner which had done away with the smell of sex. He paused to look over his shoulder at them. “Better?” he asked.

“Much better,” Carmella said. Christine and her went to collect their discarded clothes. “Need any help?”

“Nah, I got it. Y’all go ahead. I snuck in here easy, I can sneak out. I ain’t got nowhere to be.”

Manners taught both girls to argue, but the luxury of time was lacking for them both. Mr. Rodriguez was expecting the truck back soon, and Mr. McKinley hadn’t seen his daughter since she’d skedaddled in a frenzy from the balcony. Carmella came over with her pants in her hands and planted a kiss on the ridge of his nose.

“Thanks, handsome. And thanks for winnin’ for us.” She drew her phone from her pants pocket. “Now tell me your number.” A playful wink.

He was just done telling her when there came a forlorn “Oh no” from Christine. They looked and saw her with her dress back on, reading her phone with the purse hanging from her other hand.

“What?” asked Noah.

“My daddy called twice. My ringer was off.” She tapped the screen and put it to her ear. A second later, “Hey! Sorry, I was at the bar downstairs with Carmella. Is everything alright?” There was an eerie moment where they could hear Mr. McKinley speaking through both her phone and on the balcony above them. “OK! Yeah, we’re fine. Sorry about that. We met the fellow who won the race. He’s very sweet.” She shot Noah a cute smile and a wink. “Yeah, I know, but he had somewhere to go… I know, we were just down here gettin’ drinks celebrating… I know… I know daddy… Alright, love you. Buh-bye.” She hung up.

“Everything good?” Carmella asked.

“Just wonderin’ where we went. Don’t think he’s too worried, at least I don’t think. You’re fine cleaning up here?” she asked Noah one last time.

He nodded towards the door. “Y’all get outta here. Don’t wanna get seen with y’all, not up here, I mean.”

Christine slipped her shoes back on and gave him a kiss on the temple. “Thank you,” she whispered before holding her phone out for him with the contacts open.

He snickered. “Sure thing.”

The two girls sauntered as casually as they could from the box into the hall which was still empty. They looked the same as before, albeit with some slightly disheveled hair. Christine felt awkward on her heels, fighting through a badly battered nether region which forced her legs into an open gait.

Carmella recognized it. “You get used to it.”

Christine gulped. “I don’t know if I want to.”

“I think you do.”

Christine cut her gaze at Carmella, then chuckled. “Maybe,” she said, then they shared a giggle.

Back at the loading bay the two friends shared one last hug. Carmella’s wallet was fat with her winnings. There was a big shopping spree in her future, and Christine was invited. “It was so nice seeing you again, girl. You have no idea.”

“Same to you. I, um… had a lot of fun.”

They separated and shared one last wave goodbye before Carmella got back in the truck. She watched Christine walk out of the loading bay through her rearview mirror. The warmth of her hug still rang in her chest. Smiling to herself, she cut the engine and pulled out of the track with two new numbers on her phone, that of a new friend, that of an old friend, one of which she planned on sharing with the stallions back at the farm.

THE END