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The text message had me wondering all right. It popped up on my phone innocuously enough on Saturday morning when I was about to contemplate coffee and my eyeballs were still welded to my eyelids and the bright summer sun streaming through my front window felt like divine punishment for my sins.

Hey Wokko funny question mate. Are you still single?

I stared at it sipping coffee, my horns uncurling after a particularly unsatisfactory Friday night. I had gone to Wet on Wellington, last resort of dire weekends. The orgy room had been full of guys like me, fortysomething, a little past it.

The thing about an orgy room is it is a kind of unforgiving place, even with the lights down. Mutton dressed as lamb is bad enough, I should know being a ram and all. But mutton undressed and very definitely mutton...well. I made eye contact with one big bear about my age and then a husky with a distinct paunch and we both rolled our eyes at each other. This was going to be a long night.

Eventually a buff gym addict deer came in, about thirty, followed by a young stallion about twenty. We all perked up, like Pavolv's fucking dog, or perhaps ram. But of course the inevitable happened. The stallion and the buck made a bee line for each other and the rest of us got to jack off watching far prettier furs fuck like bunnies for an hour. I swear the buck was on something, he didn't cum the whole time, just thrust away like some sort of mechanical toy. The colt made up for it, spraying half the room with horse spunk until I could almost taste it in the back of my throat.

Fuck I hated horses so much.

The three elder statesmen ended up at the bar buying each other drinks and moaning about how little action we were getting while alternating between making bitchy comments about the buck and longing comments about the stallion. Even me, I was ashamed to admit. Fuck that horse had one hell of a cock.

So the next morning I was sore of head and sore of spirit. A bad time to wallow in the past.

Hey Wokko funny question mate. Are you still single?

Of course the answer was yes. That wasn't the worst part though. The worst part was the fact it was Steve who was doing the asking. And I hated having to admit to him of my failings.

Still playing the field Sirloin. Whats up?

I tried to put the best spin on it, but it irked. I used his old nickname as part revenge, the big bull always hated being called Sirloin, or if I was in a lyrical mood, Sir Loin of Beef. He did call me Lambchop though, so I was justified, at least back then.

Need a favour Lambchop, a strange one. Talk this afternoon yeah?

In spite of myself I had to smile. As much as I hated that name too, it made me glow all warm inside when he used it again. I hugged that stupid name to my heart long after it should have no longer mattered, because it did. You see, I wanted to matter to him, even though I knew I couldn't, and even those small crumbs were gold.

So what the fuck did he want? Contemplating that made the smile grow bigger...it couldn't be. Nah...and yet...

***

The shared house was a masterpiece of university student improvisation. The fridge was an ancient Frigidaire from 1960, courtesy of a garage sale. The couch was a fugitive from the 1970's, beige and orange. The television was ok as long as you smacked it in the right place, and it could only pick up SBS when someone held the rabbit ears antenna over their head. The two lounge chairs had been rescued from a hard rubbish collection and smelt vaguely of mildew.

It was home though, our home, a long way from our respective families. Four musketeers, finding a way in life and the greatest experiment of all, how to get through university with a bare pass while spending all your money on beer and pot.

Paul, a straight laced tiger doing accounting in between meetings of the Liberal Club where he planned his career as a conservative politician. Melanie, a bubbly mare doing arts while breaking the patriarchy and the sound barrier whenever one of her girlfriends came around to eat carpet. My humble self, Warren, nerdy gay ram who had remained closeted in our home town in fear of a beating from the football team and my father, and now making up for lost time by fucking the entire university gaysoc committee in office order. And Steve, dreamy good natured bull and member of said football team.

He was the only one who knew back home, about me. He had befriended me in year nine over our shared taste in music and books, and though we had very little in common when it came to our friendship groups we stuck together through thick and thin. I was the one he told about his parent's divorce, crying in my arms while I rubbed his horns. He was the one I told when my sister was diagnosed with cancer. We exchanged vulnerabilities, and somehow made life bearable because we had someone to laugh or cry with about anything. Except one thing; I couldn't bring myself to do it, for the longest time, afraid of losing him I guess.

I eventually told him at my eighteenth birthday party while having my third beer, blurting it out of nowhere simply because I couldn't hold it in any longer. It was courageous and not; about to leave school and head for the city, I figured if it went bad, I had a fallback. I shouldn't have worried.

He waved it off and slapped my back and told me he guessed and was waiting for me to tell him. I spoilt the moment a bit when I vomited into the rhododendron bushes at the shire hall. I really couldn't take beer back then.

We had joined forces when we went to uni, taking common cause against the city and those who would look down on us because we came from the sticks. And also because we had no fucking clue about living in the city, or away from our parents, or minor things like laundry, cooking, or paying bills. It was a hard education. By the end of first year I could almost make spaghetti, paying the bills on time was never alas mastered.

By second year we had reached a tolerable level of squalor, and had found the cheapest take away joints to make our meagre funds last. I never wanted another two dollar pizza in my life, or two minute noodle, but back then, I could have metabolised the pizza box if required.

Especially on the gear. My favourite was a nice, light, buzzy smoke with a long finish that left my teeth feeling slightly tingly and made my horns curl. I was especially proud of my horns, and the fact many guys I fucked liked to hold them while they drove a fat length of cock into my well spread ass. Gave them something to hang onto.

I had had a night of that last night, with a cute as fuck stallion with white spots on his ass and pink spots on his cock. While I might loathe them as people, stallions were awesome in the sack.

My night of entertainment had a counterpoint, though, a kind of chorus from backstage. Steve had been entertaining too, a leopardess exchange student from Sweden. She sounded enthusiastic I had to admit. I also had to admit I had bleated and squealed extra loud just to compete with them. Couldn't let the breeders think they were having all the fun.

I had made the pragmatic decision to skip class the day after, and judging from the sounds coming from his bedroom, so had Steve. The bull was unable to be quiet whether fucking or just sleeping, and his hooves clunked around the room until he finally surfaced around midday with the same dreamy smile on his muzzle I saw him disappear into his room with the night before. This time there was no feline to accompany him; judging by how much he was scratching his nuts though, she left her mark.

We settled together on the couch, eating corn chips (expired stock, NQR, 50 cents a packet) and watching the vague outlines of Behind the News on what may have been channel two through a snowstorm of static. We also shared a bong, in the old traditions of our kind. There was something comforting about a bong, something very warm and sharing like a huge throw rug. It enfolded us both with its buzzy bonhomie and made us all snuggly. I snuggled for real too, against Steve's formidable chest, currently naked, and let his fur rub my fleece. I let out a huge puff of smoke like a dragon and relaxed.

It took me a second to realise my hand had found something interesting. I didn't know what it was though, and in normal fashion, decided to explore. Big...thick...twitching...

"Geezus Lambchop...though you got enough last night..."

I had seen it in the flesh, so to speak, a few times, at least soft. The toilets at school, or poking from his boxers when he came out for a shower in the morning. Melanie the mare would always tell him off and threaten to cut it off with a carving knife, but he just grinned and mooed in mock fear and wiggled it at her instead. She would retaliate by leaving her door open, right across the hall from his, when she got one of her girlfriends to give her head.

What she didn't know of course was Steve loved watching. He told me secretly he jacked off thinking about it many times. I often wondered if Mel knew, and didn't care. Or maybe she liked it too.

I had never seen him hard though, let alone felt him. And in my cannabis induced haze, it felt, well...it felt incredible.

I decided to play along.

"Yeah Sirloin, but he was a bit disappointing. Fucker came like a fire hydrant when I sucked him off, but he couldn't cum when he fucked me. Just kept pounding away like he was on some sort of route march..."

He didn't stop me. I waited, but he didn't stop me. I had my had on his length, no longer fondling, just resting, the pulse in his cock enough to feel through the fabric. Then he laughed, a musical moo, and took a hit on the bong. And still he didn't stop me.

"You should try girls Lambchop."

"What, like Melanie?"

Another laugh, and we both fell into a ball at our own humour, though there was an additional edge to the humour there that Steve would never know thank fuck.

"Hey sheepy, maybe you should have handed your stallion over to her. She would sort him out."

"She would probably use his nuts as cocktail olives."

We both sobered a little at that. In the time we had been in the house together, Melanie had strayed into straight town only once. A handsome, studly wolf on the university rugby team. When he left the next morning he had his tail between his legs and walked decidedly oddly. We found out later she had pegged the poor bastard after handcuffing him to the bed. He never could look me straight in the eye again.

When asked why she had done it, she just shrugged and flicked her mane.

"Needed a lesson, that boy."

I shuddered at the thought of her instruction.

Steve now shocked me out of thoughts of dangerous mares. He bucked his hips a little, pushing his erection against my hand. I grasped instinctively, feeling it pulse in my hand even with the annoying layer of cloth between me and nirvana.

"I bet she would give awesome head though." He looked at me and winked, playing the game. I shivered and tried to keep up, my heart beating hard. Well, he went there...

"Nah...no girl gives good head anyway, let alone a lesbian."

I had my pride, and I felt my tribe needed sticking up for too.

"Hmmm...that pantheress was pretty good."

That rankled a little. I heard him mooing and moaning enough last night. Clearly she was pretty good; and yet here he was, hard and playful. Surely it couldn't all be the weed.

"Good for a girl. Guys are a whole different level."

He took a long hit on the bong while my heart skipped several beats and time seemed to stop. Then he gave me a look, one eyebrow raised, and a smile.

"Prove it..."

I could hear my horns curling it was that quiet. He didn't move, didn't say a word, just sat there staring at the TV. I decided to take him at his word.

"Fine..."

He was avoiding my gaze, and that pissed me off a bit, but not enough to stop. I watched him, internally daring him to look, as I slowly pulled down his boxers. Grey and nondescript, they were struggling to contain his massive cock even before he got hard. Releasing it now was an act of mercy.

It jerked, and flopped, slapping against his belly as it snapped free of the elastic waistband. He gave a little shudder and a gasp, but still watched the TV. His eyes glinted, wider and more alive than I ever remembered, even through the weed haze. I had fantasised about this so many times in highschool, fuck I jerked off to it enough times to use a whole box of tissues. And here he was, semi naked, aroused, and more beautiful than I even dared dream.

I savoured the sight of it. Long, and very very thick, with prominent veins, and a fat head. The head was partially exposed, his foreskin rolling back a bit, the tip already glistening with pre. I wanted to touch first, cataloguing every sensation for posterity. I assumed this would be it.

"Ohhhh..."

My hand cupped his nuts. They were so warm, and mobile, rolling in my hand. Huge, as all bulls were, they hung down heavy in a sac with skin as soft as silk. He had the finest hairs on his balls, little blonde ones, matched by a tuft of dark blonde fuzz above his cock, and I imagined them running down his taint and almost fainted. I tickled them instead, just barely touching, willing his eyes to meet mine.

Instead he closed them and leaned his head back.

"Ahhhh..."

That first stroke of his cock was pure unadulterated heaven. Fingertips only, sliding up his length, then gripping his foreskin to peel if back and under the wide ridged head. I pulled hard, stretching his foreskin with a little dash of malice, drawing a moo of reproach, making his frenum strain and eliciting another emission, a drop of pure clear precum that dripped down his head to touch my fingertip. I brought it to my muzzle and licked, suddenly stoned on something other than weed.

"Muzzle...please..."

He still had his eyes closed, but his voice was like chocolate. Deep, husky, needy. He brought a big meaty hand up and rubbed his left nipple, the little nub thickening under his own touch. He squeezed harder, and pinched, and his cock jerked in my hand.

"Go on Wokka..."

I couldn't wait any more. My cock threatened to explode inside my jeans. I knelt between his thighs, my hands on the muscled mass of two stud bull legs, and bent my muzzle to its target. I would finish as I started.

"Yessssss..."

The sound of that voice was almost as good as the taste of his nuts. Sweat, musk, cum. I could taste the remains of his night of fucking, and it drove me wild. I sucked his nuts one at t time, almost intent on sucking his cum right out through his scrotum. My hands stroked the inside of his thighs, the legs dancing on hooftips as he tried to pull away from the sensations and then relaxed. His tail swished up to slap my chin, the tuft like a soft beautiful whip end that brings ecstacy instead of pain.

His cock was so hard now, the cumtube on the underside thick and distinct. I licked up, tracing the line of his urethra, until I met his head and licked it clean while he cried out and begged.

And his eyes were open.

I took it slow, lips on his soft head, slowly engulfing. I had to strain, it was so thick, but I made it over his corona and onto the strained skin of his shaft, the foreskin stretched for my delight. He tasted so musky, and the scent was incredible. Scent of young bull stud. It should be on sale at Myers.

He rested a hand on my horns, while the other kept up the nipple assault. He didn't pull though, just rested, and I rewarded his patience with a deep throating, my progress gradual and sweet up and down, up and down, a little deeper each time until my lips kissed his groin and that sweet tuft of blonde pubes and my tongue slid out to touch his balls. They were tight now, drawn up high, jiggling in time to the strained jerks in his legs.

"Ohhhh fuckkkkkk..."

All the way back up then, lips just barely touching his head, my tongue on his piss slit drinking a fountain of pre. I caressed his balls, so hard, and slid a finger under his scrotum. Now his hand became insistent, pulling me off to stare into a face a little angry and a little worried.

"No ass stuff...please..."

I shrugged, disappointed but not too much. If my straight bud was that uptight, it just made him a little sexier. Still, imagining the delights of that crevice...and that asshole...

"Ohhh god so good..."

I focussed on his head now, my lips sliding faster down his head and over the corona, down the sensitive top of his shaft and back. I squeezed his nuts, careful not to offend his poor straight sensibilities by touching his perineum. Poor moo, didn't know what he was missing.

He began to twitch, and jerk, and his hands now gripped my horns and he pushed me deeper, his fat head invading my throat. The acrid taste of pre filled my senses, along with his cries. I looked up to see his eyes on me, serious, almost terrified, his muzzle open, nosering flopping as he sucked in air. Then his eyes scrunched and his chest muscled tightened.

"Ohhhfuck gonna cum..."

He held me down, unable to do much more than lick his shaft and suckle. The twitch became a slamming thrust and he came, the flood of bull spunk too much. I coughed and lost half it, but it still tasted amazing, and he released my horns at least so I was able to pull back and make it a bit easier, sucking the tip and collecting the remaining spurts in my muzzle to swallow luxuriantly afterwards.

He still had his eyes closed.

I coughed, trying to clear the claggy mass from my airways after his first shot had gone places it shouldn't, and cupped his nuts. They were lower again, but still mobile, rolling in the afterglow of a hard cum.

"So...verdict?"

That smile. Oh fuck that cocky stupid grin. He rubbed the back of my head and gave his spent but still semi hard cock a good stroke.

"Yeah...better..."

For a while that was what we did, when he was horny and nobody was around. I sucked him off in all sorts of places, in the shower in the morning, in the university library. That was the hottest, a wild fast muzzle fuck just waiting for someone to catch us, his need and his desperation not to be found warring as he moaned so deep while begging me not to make a noise. The low rumble of his groans when he came would probably have disturbed the foundations.

All the while though I hated myself for letting him use me like this. He had a girlfriend now, a nice cow from Brighton, and they fucked as often as they could. I would listen to them at night, trying not to cry, as all the stupid fantasies I had built crashed and burned. I should have known better, as all my gay mates had told me. I knew I should too, but it didn't help.

Then Anna the cow went back home for the semester break, and my boy was bereft of pussy. I knew he needed those hefty balls drained frequently, and he would be back. Sure enough, he came into my room the second night, with that grin on his face and a peace offering of weed. I couldn't deny him entirely, but I had my standards. I would be passive aggressive instead.

We lay together on my bed, his thigh resting on mine, his hand on my horns, and talked, avoiding the girlfriend thing as much as possible. Lecturers we loathed, the goings on of the freshmen this year, the crazy things we had done. Conversation moved to our exploits on campus, the blowjobs in the library, in the carpark, in a lecture theatre. His cock strained against a pair of sweat pants stained with the remains of his gym session. I could smell his sweat and musk and the needy scent of his balls, and feel his heat. He had been working out religiously, his body filling out so well now, muscles bulging easily as he moved. I ate my heart out and found unwelcome substitutes, but now here was the real thing again. SO close.

His hand gripped mine, and pulled it to his groin.

"Hmmm someone needs you Wokko..."

"Fuck off Sirloin."

I tried to pull away, but he was having none of it.

"Why are you so pissy Warren?"

"Because..."

I couldn't make myself say it. I had feelings for him. I wanted him. I needed him. Instead I remained silent.

"Because why?"

"Because you are a stupid dumb cow who I never should have sucked off in the first place Steve. Now fuck off and leave me alone!"

I was surprised almost as much as him by the outburst. He looked at me strangely, his nosering twitching ruminatively. Then he got a glint in his eyes I had never seen before.

Big firm hands suddenly gripped my shoulders. I was turned effortlessly, my muzzle to the pillow, and crushed into the bed by the weight of a stud bull.

"Fucking beefy shit get off me!"

"Not till you apologise Lambchop."

"Never cunt!"

Hands curled under my chest. His fingertips found my nipples, and I gasped in shock as he rubbed then twisted.

"Apologise..."

"No!"

The hands slid down my belly, into my pants. I felt my jeans pulled down, and a hand gripping my cock. I was hard as steel.

"Someone is pleased to see me..."

"Just fuck off Steve!"

He had never touched my cock before. In all the times I had sucked him off, he had never done it. He had watched me jack off afterwards, the grin of post orgasmic pleasure on his muzzle but never given me relief. Now though, he had me, and I craved it so much and hated myself for that craving.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhh!"

He jacked me slow, my poor little cock engulfed in his hand. It felt amazing, rough but so pleasurable. He clasped his fingers on my head and rubbed. I ached.

Another shuffle of clothes, and I felt fur on fur, then the fat mass of a hard cock in my ass crack, and suddenly I felt fear.

"Steve!"

"Tell me you don't want this Wokka..."

"No!"

Oh God...his fat cock head slid down my crevice, and nudged my hole. I whimpered. He wrapped one arm round my chest, holding my back to his chest, and with the other he pulled my pants down to my knees. His muzzle found my neck, licking, kissing, biting. I groaned. I pushed back into him, fighting and not.

"Tell me you haven't been dreaming about this Wokka..."

"No..."

It sounded pathetic. It sounded a lie. It was.

"Yeah, been dreaming about my straight boy cock little lamb..."

"Please Steve, you're too big..."

"Nah, just big enough..."

I stifled the scream into my pillow. His head found my pucker and pressed. He leaked so much, which was the only saving grace. Precum would have to do it seemed.

He forced it in and I saw stars. It was a moment before I realised he had stopped. Just the head...so fat, so hot, so good. He teased my opening with it, 'the poor sphincter strained too much but trying gamely to cope. I clamped down reflexively, then tried to relax.

"Please not too deep...you will tear me apart..."

"I promise Warren..."

He kissed the back of my head, and I relaxed more. The weight of his body lightened a bit as he propped himself on his hands a bit. The weight felt good now, muscled bulk touching but not crushing. My tail flicked against his belly, inviting more.

He pressed a little deeper. I tried not to yelp but failed, and he stopped. He pressed a little more and kissed my prostate. I yelled, and he stopped again, but this time I laughed.

"No...good bull..."

"Whats that?"

"My prostate. Welcome to the joy division straight boy...some of the stuff you have been missing..."

My nut seemed to fascinate him. He prodded at it, the wide spread head of his cock rasping over my nut and back, every passage dragging his corona over the sensitive spot and sending shivers down my spine. I was bleating now, begging, pleading. His thrusts became faster. I moved under him, my cock rubbing on cotton and leaking as much as he was.

One more thrust and I came, yelling his name. Then I screamed again as he slammed into the hilt, the full length of his thick organ battering a passage into my depths that sent my whole ass into spasm. Three more quick full length thrusts and I was still in shock, then he came, flooding my aching depths with the soothing balm of bull milk. His muzzle rested on my neck, panting breaths filling my ears.

The hand under me slid down to cup my cock, and play with the tip.

"See...you wanted it Lambchop."

I demanded more then. He obliged, the fuck no longer as painful thanks to the fresh coat of lube obligingly deposited from his nuts. He lasted a long time, long enough to make me cum twice more, screaming his name each time, with my hooves over his shoulders and my pucker spread wide and dripping cum. When he finished I lay on his chest, my jeans round my ankles, his sweats round his knees, and cupped his nuts. They felt quiet now, and I pretended they were mine while he smoked a joint and stared at the ceiling. And still he had that sweet grin on his face that made my heart break.

****

We had more times after that, but not that many. As time went on Anna became more demanding of his time, and he became more conscious of the fact that this was, when all was said and done, cheating. After a long hiatus, we had one last glorious and unexpected time and then...well, then nothing. We remained friends, part of the same circle still, and we saw each other often enough, the last time a few months ago. The eighteenth birthday for Melanie's son, a gangly colt called Spencer. The lesbian mare had discovered motherhood with the aid of a turkey baster and an obliging stallion, and he seemed to have turned out pretty well, though I doubt it would be easy being the son of the mother from hell.

I never got his body again though, and the craving still tingled in my cock and in my heart. I had never settled down in spite of promises to myself to do so. Nobody seemed quite right.

And now this. What the fuck?

I jerked off waiting for him to come over, my mind full of the feeling of his body over mine, the first wild stab of his cock, and the gush of his cum. The first shot of my own orgasm splattered the wall behind me, and I was left panting and needy still. Surely not...

He was a little hesitant I could tell as soon as he arrived. The smile was there though, and he finally gave me a hug and I melted. We chatted easily, dodging the questions, until he finally relented with a nervous cough.

"Err so Wokka...um...I have a favour to ask..."

My heart skipped a beat, and I nodded not trusting my own voice.

"You see, it's Parker."

I blinked. This was not going quite as I expected.

Parker was Steve's son. After he married Anna, they had a calf, about the same time as Melanie's foal. A big, wide eyed, genuinely nice boy. I thought the name was naff, but didn't say. It was Anna's choice.

He was the spitting image of his dad, with brown and black fur and broad shoulders and hips. I had watched him grow up as part of our little circle of friends. Now he was eighteen and almost ready for uni. I wondered how he would find his way, and if they still did share houses like the old days.

"He...errr....well he told me something on his eighteenth. Finally admitted I guess. It...well, it reminded me of your eighteenth."

I swallowed. Oh my.

"He's...gay?"

"Well, bi at least. He told me he likes guys a lot, but he has been too shy to do much. But he wants to, and well..."

"Well...?"

He blushed then, and looked at his hooves.

"I told him about...well, what we used to get up to. Sort of reassuring him I guess, but he confessed something too. He likes you, a lot. And when I told him about us he...well...he wanted me to ask if you would like to do stuff with him. Maybe be his first..."

My heart died and was reborn. My cock simply sprang to attention and refused to go down. I had to admit he was cute, a big stocky awkward bunch of muscle like his old man, but fuck. Could I cope with that...

That was when I decided to get evil, and get even.

"One condition Steve."

He smiled, seemingly pleased, and nodded.

"Anything."

"You come along too. Guide the poor lad. And make sure he doesn't do anything like you did the first time you fucked me."

He had been drinking a beer, unfortunately for him, and almost choked. Poor bull looked lost as fuck, and it made me more determined. I could fuck with his mind, and make him suffer a little for all the years. And maybe, just maybe, want me a little.

"Lambchop...are you for fucking real?"

"Dead set Sirloin. Your boy can have me...but you have to be there."

"Wokka...I've promised Anna...well, I'm a good husband these days. No messing around..."

"Who said anything about that? No Steve, you just get to watch...your boy gets all the fun."

"Fucking twisted..."

"Ask him Sirloin."

The sense of lightheadedness that had filled me ever since Steve came through my door threatened to overwhelm me while he spoke in hushed whispers on the phone. When he was finished he looked at me with a slight look of grudging respect. It had taken long enough.

"He says...he says ok..."

****

I made them come to my place. I wanted that comfort, the familiarity. It would help, I genuinely hoped.

They were so similar in the flesh, I had forgotten how much. Parker was about the same height as his dad, but not as bulky. He had a fresh faced look, open and sunny, but no nosering. Instead he had a very fashionable eyebrow ring, and a stud in his left ear.

Steve tried not to look at me but failed, managing a weak grin.

"You have no idea the lies I had to tell Anna..."

Yeah, no sympathy Sirloin. I wondered if he ever told her...maybe that was best not known. I didn't know if I could face her if she did.

We shared a beer each, the calf looking nervous at first, but loosening up as we drank. Steve still had his tail swishing wild enough to swat a buffalo. I left him on his couch and stood up, motioning to Parker to join me.

"Now just watch Sirloin. And give your boy some tips..."

I reached for him and kissed, softly at first, just rubbing lips. Then his lips slowly parted, and I felt tongue. We duelled like that for a moment before I won and sank my tongue into his muzzle. He groaned, and big hands gripped my ass cheeks and pulled me towards him.

"Gentle Parker...not too much..."

I let one eye fall on Steve, sitting back, watching, his expression unreadable. He was taking his responsibility seriously it seemed. A better coach than he was footballer.

The calf responded to his father's words, caressing my butt through my pants. I followed his lead, rubbing two huge mounds of young beef. Like a pair of wombats trapped in a bag, they jiggled under my touch.

He tongued me deeper then. I felt him moaning, his moans disappearing into my own muzzle. The feeling was like electricity buzzing over flesh. I melted into his arms.

"Now mate...touch his dick..."

Steve had learned more than I realised. I needed it so bad.

The hand found my erection, fighting to escape the confines of my jeans. He rubbed, concentrating on the aching head, while his kissed became hotter. Teeth, biting, nipping, my lips and tongue sure but hungry. Then he slid his hand under the waistband of my pants and touched.

"Ahhhhh..."

I loved it that we both moaned at the same time. His hand gripped me in a grip of iron. Jacking slow, then hard, too hard. My cock raw and pained, and yet still hard as steel and dripping.

"Undress him mate."

I was in heat already, and the touch of uncertain hands on flesh made it worse. Under my top, rubbing across my belt, chest, nipples as he pulled my top over my head. Then undoing my belt, pulling my jeans down and then my boxers. He sank to his knees, and I got a view of a pair of short horns and a head of wild brown curly hair tied in plaits and a pair of flicking soft ears. He carefully took off my boots then my pants, one leg at a time.

Standing before me, still clothed, he looked uncertain but hungry. I knew I was the snack.

"Now strip for him Parker. Make him watch."

Steve had done that for me once, back at the house. He made me sit on the sofa, told me if I moved he would stop, and I watched him slowly strip off then jack his own cock. He twisted a nipple, and slid his foreskin back and forward, and I whimpered so close and unable to move. He made me watch for a good half hour, backing off a few times when he was on the brink and precum dripped from his piss slit like a long line of need. When he finally came he sprayed me with the biggest load, all over my muzzle, my chest, and I watched the way his cock jerked on the point of orgasm, the piss slit wide and the cum tube pulsing with his load, and his nuts crushed against his groin trying to drive every last drop of spunk from him, and every muscle in his body tense as a bow.

He made me kneel on the sofa then, pulled down my pants, and used his cum to lube up my hole and drove into me in one deep thrust that made me cry. I came all over the sofa, so many times I lost track, the poor thing always smelling of sheep spunk thereafter much to the disgust of our tiger friend Paul. He refused to sit on it ever again. I found beige and orange strangely erotic ever since.

It was the last time he fucked me. I could still feel the burn on my hole even now if I tried.

Now I watched his boy awkwardly performing the ritual. Top off and left in a heap on the floor. He had a good set of muscles, a bit of puppy fat around his belly, and the cutest set of nipples surrounded with little blonde circles of fuzz. The same blonde hair poked above the waistband of his jeans, and I didn't have to wait long to see the rest.

He managed to get his boots off, almost falling over. He was more careful pulling down his jeans. Thick thighs, broad calves, and a cock poking against his boxers hard enough to leave little to the imagination. Still he teased, jerking his cock through the fabric before peeling them off too.

He was almost as big as I remembered his dad being. Thick, long, with a pronounced fat purple head wider than the shaft, a heavy set of nuts, and a long foreskin. He slid it back, while I watched, exposing the head already glistening, and he looked at me and smiled.

"Does he like that view son?"

He nodded, relieved.

"Yeah dad..."

Oh fuck I did so much. My cock gave the game away, poking my belly, leaking too. I felt the slimy residue on my fleece.

I glanced over to Steve. He had the same expression, a little glazed, and I saw him fondling his cock through his pants, hard and tenting out his groin. There was a little wet patch visible, and he saw me noticing and gave a half smile and a nod. I shook a little, and the calf moved forward to hold me.

"You are so hot Warren..."

We kissed, cocks crossed and pressed between our bellies, my head rubbing his shaft, his head rubbing my belly. His hands gripped my horns, and I felt myself being pushed down urgently.

"Please..."

His nuts smelled incredible. Musk as fine as Steves, spunk, sweat. I had missed this so much. I lapped at his balls, tasting everything, his moos of delight making my ears burn, before starting on his cock. Cupping his scrotum I squeezed gently as I went down on him, my lips and tongue caressing his shaft, my fingers his bull nuts. Those little soft hairs....oh god, those hairs.

My finger slid under his scrotum, and this time nobody stopped me. I found his perineum, coated in the same soft fuzz, and rubbed. He gasped, and suddenly gripped my horns. Not to stop, but to demand more. His head sank into my throat.

"That's it boy...set your own pace..."

He did too, fast, then slow, then fast. Hips moving, thighs tensing, he fucked my muzzle thoroughly but gently. I found his pucker and rubbed in circles, feeling it clench and open, clench and open. His cock jerked. It was time.

"Ohhhhhfuck ohhhhfuck!"

I felt the pulse in his cumtube on my lips, then my tongue. He spurted, a wild outpouring of pleasure. I was better now days, able to cope, and I swallowed every precious drop, suckling until his cock could take no more and he pulled out, still hard, and too sensitive for more.

He pulled me to my hooves and kissed, forcing his tongue inside to taste his own cum. I almost fainted, too turned on to take much more.

"Now fuck him..."

The calf looked uncertain, glancing between me and his dad. The bigger bull sighed and smiled.

"Lick his ass first mate. It will feel awesome, make him want it so bad."

I laughed now, hoping Steve didn't notice. Well, he remembered after all.

The calf looked uncertain still. Steve had the right idea though.

"Parker, get on all fours. He will show you what to do."

I could hear the slow squelching noises of masturbation, and caught a whiff of bull musk and precum. Steve was unable to contain himself, I knew he would be. He was jacking it, and I looked over at his erection, magnificent as I remembered, then down to his calf laid out for me on his hands and knees. This was going to be good.

Spreading those perfect cheeks, I savoured a long look at the deep dark crevice of a bull butt. Fat muscled cheeks, spread wide now, revealed a perfect long soft taint, with a dusting of blonde hairs, and a big pucker all crinkled under a tail raised high. Below his nuts hung low, left a little lower than right, and jerked up and down as he anticipated the pleasure.

I couldn't wait any longer, leaning in and sniffing then licking his perineum, just the tip of my tongue. His groan was a deep throated cry of pleasure, and I kept him going with laps to the back o fhis scrotum and then, finally, a long eating of his hole. First the pucker, then spreading the lips with my thumbs, deep inside him. He tasted wild, funky, more musk, and so hot I thought my tongue would catch on fire. I wanted more, so much more, and I ate hungrily while he pushed back into my muzzle.

"Now your turn Parker. Get him ready..."

Reluctantly we traded places, but I lost any reluctance once those big hands closed on my ass cheeks and pulled them wide apart. He was enthusiastic, that bovine tongue doing amazing things to my taint and then, as I cried out, my hole. He spread me wide, driving inside seeking out my depths, and I panted like a jogger as he used me. My poor tunnel stretched, slick with his spit. I needed it so much.

My head had dropped to the floor while he ate me. Now I looked up to see a bull close to my muzzle, standing. He had his jeans down to his knees, jacking his cock, watching me take his son. He was so close, so close, so close.

"N...now mate...he will never be more ready for you than now...but use some lube. Don't want him torn up..."

I laughed again. Yeah, he remembered. We shared a grin of knowing, unkown to his calf. The first time he fucked me was so raw, so good, but so painful the next day. My ass needed a week off to recover.

The click of a bottle behind me brought me round. The calf had brought his own. Kids are more sensible these days than we ever were. That and the internet has so many guides available you can fuck a dude or build a small nuke with all the flair of an expert.

"Ohhhhh..."

Fingers invaded my hole. So deep, so slick, coating me with liquid fire and caressing my nut.

"Yeah, like that feel too don't you Wokka."

"Ohhhfuck Steve. You know it stud..."

"Fuck there is something here..."the calf was full of wonder, finding my prostate. He rubbed roughly, and I bleated and spat a line of precum on the floorboards.

"Yeah, that's his prostate. He has a sensitive one, go easy on it. Don't want him popping off too fast.

I whimpered a little when the fingers left me, but sighed in satisfaction when I felt the broad fat mass of a bull cock on my hole. It was time.

"Now mate, take him slow. That little nut is your goal. Use the first bit of your cock, aim for the prostate, like the base of his cock almost. Nail it good...make him bleat..."

The urgent erotic instruction made me almost cum. Then I felt the first penetration, the head of the calf's cock spreading me, and I tried to relax. He was gentle, and slow, and easy. I was more experienced now, and he wanted to obey his father's instructions. The result was almost too gentle, until his head found my nut and he began to ram against it.

"That's it...push down from above a bit, right into his nut..."

Grunts, moans, gasps from behind, and I felt the bulk of the young bull as he began to fuck harder. His cock slapped my nut, over and over, and I shot more precum until there was a small pool under me.

"Now stroke his cock..."

A hand gripped me, slippery with all the precum. The sensation on my head was too much, I screamed. Steve knelt at my muzzle, so close, his hand under my chin, his cock bare inches away. I saw his piss slip opened wide, the clear fluid gushing like a fountain.

"Now fuck him hard son."

My eyes went wide as the first full penetration struck home and I heard the slap of muscled thigh against my ass. The impact almost winded me, then he pulled out and popped from my hole, the raw scrape across my pucker making me squeal.

"Harder..."

I poked my tongue out. Only an inch away, the scent of bull spunk filling my nose. So close. So close.

"Oh fuck dad..."

I could only imagine what the calf was seeing, or feeling. His cock felt sublime, invading my guts, spreading me wide, claiming me. He began to fuck wild now, the first cum in my muzzle giving him stamina. My cock swung under me, aching.

"Now bend over him and grip his horns..."

Chest touched back, one hand beside mine on the floor, one on my horns. He swung his body into the fuck, shaft rubbing my pucker, head pummelling my nut on the way to my depths, nuts swinging forward to slap mine from behind. I moaned. I cried. I begged.

I came. Buckets of spunk, spraying the floor, emptying my balls and my heart all over the place, as I screamed it to the heavens.

"Oh Steeeveeeeeee!"

A hand pulled my head back, fingers gripping my horns, a muzzle on my neck biting down hard enough to break skin.

"Ohhhhyeasssssssssssss...."

My depths filled with calf seed, a hot flood filling me. I lay my head on the floor, embarrassed, ashamed, defeated. I had told him what I didn't want him to know. He had me.

I felt a panting calf on my back, his hands entwined in mine on the floor. Fingers lifted my chin up, until I stared into the angry purple head of a fat bull cock about three inches from my muzzle. A hand moved in rapid strokes, a hand with a wedding ring on one finger, shiny silver. The cock jerked, standing upright, and I saw the cumtube pulse.

"Oh god sheepy...oh god..."

I had to close my eyes, feeling instead of seeing the shower of bull cum that coated my face, my muzzle, my head. The scent, the taste, the sound of his release. All mine too; and maybe he had told me something he didn't want as well.

"Fuck dad that was hot..."

****

A week later we were at a BBQ and pretending nothing had happened. It was an artform Steve had mastered a long time ago, but still, I was a little pissed.

Everyone was there; we had gone back home this time, to the property owned by Paul, now the MP for our local electorate, and the tiger was definitely moving up. He was hosting this little shindig as part reunion, part fundraiser for his bid to move across to the federal senate. He had done the backroom deals like a champion, as usual, and the result would never be in doubt, but Paul didn't like taking chances.

I had to admit his farm was nice, with a big house, even bigger pool, and amazing grounds. I sucked on a beer and looked over the landscape, half longing, half scowling. I never had come to terms with my home town, and doubted I ever would.

"Well...if I ever get to lead the feminist revolution, I know where Im coming first with the machine guns. So many dinosaurs..."

The mare rubbed my back, and I smiled a wan smile for her and we clinked beers, looking out to the ridge. A line of river redgums followed the line of the creek, and I remembered my one and only time trying to be straight in a creekbed on Melanie's parents property. I had managed a passable clit lick, but when the time came to do my duty, my poor cock had been very unwilling. The mare always liked to remind me.

"You are to blame of course...putting me onto girls and all..."

"I seem to remember you and the school teachers daughter had long since started eating carpet before I came along and didn't fuck you Mel."

"Yes, but maybe you were my last chance..."

"Then fate was directing you to be a muncher I guess."

"Ahhh Warren. Fate is such a fucked up thing."

There was genuine wistfulness in her voice and I looked up a little worried, but she gave me another smile.

"Don't worry dear...just an argument with my beloved."

"Oh, what is the lovely Zoe worried about now?"

"Spencer."

Now I was intrigued. The colt was at the party too, polite and courteous as always. Tall, lean, with buff coat and white mane, he looked amazing and his blue eyes sparkled. How could such perfection be a problem?

I gave her a look, demanding more.

"He's...well, he's straight."

I rolled on the ground laughing.

"Really?"

She looked angry while trying not to laugh with me.

"Really! Zoe was...well, she thought he would grow up gay too. Like his father, lovely stallion. She was quite expecting it you see, preferring it. You know she was always more...against straight guys, so to speak."

"Yeah..."that was one word for it. Militant was another.

"Last week though, Zoe came back from work early to find him with a girlfriend..."

"Yes?"

"You know...mounting her..."

"Ohhhhhhhhh..."

I had the image in my head now. My cock suddenly surged.

"Warren! You are so....arghhh! I cant believe you can get off on that thought...my own son!"

I had to bight down on the response I was going to make. I wasn't sure she was ready for more insights into my and Steves bizarre love triquadrilateral. Instead I changed the subject.

"You could buy him a subscription to architectural digest..."

"Warren!"

"Maybe dress him in pastels..."

"You fucking shithead sheep."

"Well, at least I'm not part of the patriarchy like your son."

"Wanna bet sheep?"

She looked ready to carve me into chops. I gave her a humble duck of the head, and was rewarded with a stroke on my horns.

"Well...when the revolution comes, we may keep some of you around for sport..."

I hated that I kind of liked that idea. As long as one of them was Steve. And I got to see him in a leather harness being pegged. Call me crazy if you had to.

Heading for the bar and away from the strange world of Melanie, I saw a young bull coming towards me. It took me a second to realise it was Parker, and that there was something slightly wrong. He was limping oddly...

A tingle began in the back of my mind as he came up to me, smiling broadly, and swiped a beer before heading for a spot under a tree near the pool. I followed, the niggle building. He was still limping, but the limp seemed to have changed legs. Either he was faking, or...

"Problem with your legs sport?"

He gave a look that I would describe as sheepish if he wasn't a bull, and sucked down more beer. A loud burp, and a swipe of his muzzle, and he gave me a sideways look and a grin.

"Nah...something more...errrp..."

I had seen that limp before, on a very familiar looking bull.

****

We had been out all night, and as the sun rose returned to the house. I had to use all my strength to hold the bull up, he was no lightweight that was for sure.

"Mpfgh...great night Lambchop..."

"Yeah."

Well, for him maybe. I had been eating my heart our but determined to do a good job.

As best man, it was my duty to let the buck have his night. We had gone to more pubs than I had been to in my life, endured a pair of strippers, a lesbian double act called Fire and Ice who did some extraordinary things with dildos, and much football lad boisterous stupidity. About dawn I finally took him home, to our share home. We had all gone into postgrad degrees, even Steve, and now the house really felt a home after all the years. And now he was about to depart, leaving with his bride after their wedding next weekend for a honeymoon and then a flat just for the two of them. I felt lost in more ways than one.

I managed to get him into the lounge room and onto the sofa, and pulled off his boots. He decided he was going no further.

"No. Want to stay here."

There was nothing quite like a stubborn bull. So we watched Rage on the TV as the sun came up, his thigh against mine, his head on my shoulder. Then I felt it. The hand; rubbing me through my pants, and a clumsy muzzle licking my neck.

"No Steve..."

"Awwwww...one last time Wokka."

"No Steve..."

The hand was inside my pants now. I hated how good it felt, how much I wanted. I bucked my hips against his hand, and he pinched my glans and made me squeal.

"Come on, one last time Lambchop..."

"I thought you were being faithful and shit. I thought you were devoted to Anna..."

"Yeah, I will be. But I need one last time before...well, before..."

I was ready to yell at him, storm off, anything, until I looked at his face. He was crying, as lost as me. Instead I licked the tears, and with his hands pushing me down, I knelt at his hooves where I felt I belonged after all.

His pants came down to his knees easily enough, and I did my usual, suckling his nuts, sucking his cock tip and down the shaft. He groaned, his hands on my horns, not forcing now, just guiding.

"Suck my nuts sheepy. It's so good...please..."

I was only too happy to obey, and even happier he was telling me what he wanted. I would miss this so much, but I couldn't think of that. Just bathe in the musk for now, and the taste, and the feel of that incredible cock on my lips.

His balls churned, I could feel the power in the, the rich pool of spunk inside. It would be mine one last time. Lips on his scrotum, tongue lapping at the soft hairs, he groaned for me, then he whispered.

"My...my ass. Please...lick my ass..."

"Steve?!"

"Please..."

He had his head back, eyes closed, muzzle open. I got no read, and almost didn't respond to his command, but finally moved. His pants were a problem, one I solved by undressing him. His clothes fell in an untidy heap, and still he kept his eyes closed.

"Please..."

His claves felt big in my hands, too heavy almost, but I managed to lift them up, spreading his hole, exposing him. I got my first look at his ass, the sublime streak of his perineum, the dank rosette of his hole. Bending forward, I worshipped.

"Ohhhhhhhhyeasssssss..."

The sound of a straight guy feeling your tongue on his taint. Nothing is quite like it. It made me almost spurt hearing it from Steve. He kept on mooing too, as I lapped his perineum, delighting in the fuzz, and even more in the hairs round his hole. They tickled my tongue, and my lips, as I daringly pressed them to the skin round his pucker as sucked on his ass while his nuts balanced on my nose.

"Yessssfuckkkkkkk..."

My tongue pressed to his hole, and slowly drove inside, spreading him. He sighed, a long deep sigh, pushing his ass against me. I became hungrier, eating him out, hearing the soft sound of masturbation in my ears as he pleasured himself while I ate him.

"Ughhhh fingers...play with my ass..."

Sitting upright a bit, I watched him jacking off, stunned. He was in complete abandoned bliss, seemingly into it. I tested him, pressing my finger on his hole. He didn't stop me.

"Go on...ahhhhhhhh"

I took him to the knuckle, the sheer heat of his ass indescribable. I played as he asked, fondling his prostate, making him whimper when a second finger took him. He was leaking so much, a puddle of pre on his belly filling his navel and overflowing over his flank to the seat. His ass clenched and opened, clenched and opened, and he groaned.

"Oh god...please fuck me...I want your cock..."

"Steve?!"

Now he opened his eyes. They stared into mine, certain if troubled.

"I mean it. This is your last shot, I wont ask again. Ever."

"Let me get some lube..."

"Just fucking do it! Now!"

"Steve, it's going to hurt and..."

He just started, snorting, and I knew somehow to give up. My cock pulsed with need. I knew I wanted it bad.

I pulled my jeans down to my knees, releasing a cock now in agony after rubbing against my pants while I ate his ass. I used what I had, a big pool of bull precum, and slicked up my head and as much of the shaft as I could. Then I pressed the tip to his hole.

"Now..."

I thrust. I didn't care, didn't hesitate, no finesse or slow entry. I had only topped a couple of times, and in the heat of this moment, I lost any sense of restraint anyway. I wanted him, wanted to breed him, mark a part of him as mine. I drove to the hilt, watching him, loving the fact it hurt, that he winced, that he whimpered, that his voice came in a husky whisper.

"Ohhhh fuck...gentle..."

He wasn't getting it gentle. I gripped his shoulders, muzzle to his, and humped into his hole without mercy, his legs over my shoulders, his ass open and vulnerable, letting all the heat and the lust and the anguish out in one power fuck. He grabbed my horns, and I waited for him to push me off, but instead he pulled me down and we were kissing, his tongue as hungry as his ass.

"Harder..."

I obliged, fucking him as hard as I could, body slapping body, my fingers digging into muscle, my tongue into his throat. His hands left my horns and roamed down my back, onto my ass, and he spread my cheeks and felt me up as I began to lose myself in impending orgasm. I could not hold it, didn't want to anyway. I came, filling his ass, my bull, my only bull, with as much cum as I could. I collapsed in his arms, panting.

"I love you sheepy..."

Leaning back I looked at his face. He had his eyes closed again, muzzle scrunched. I heard a gasp.

In the corridor leading to the bedrooms a tall mare was standing, eyes like saucers. I gave her a look of warning, and she nodded, and turned and went into her room closing the door very slowly. Time enough for that problem later; for now I had a bigger problem in my arms. One bull with a hard cock that hadn't cum yet.

I was still hard inside him, my cum lubricating his hole nicely. I began to fuck slow, easy, while I jacked his cock. He had his eyes open again, smiling at me even as a single tear trickled down his cheek, and I gave him the best ride I could until he finally sprayed his load all over his chest and I unloaded a second time in his ass. We retreated to his bedroom, lying in each other's arms, just touching and kissing till we both fell asleep.

Waking, I heard the unmistakable sounds of a bull puking his guts out in the bathroom. He opened the door slowly, and hobbled back to the bed, his hobbling comical and endearing and I gave a smile at his discomfort.

"A bit tender Sirloin?"

"Yeah...what happened...why are you in here..."

I blinked, not getting it.

"Your ass not quite used to such a workout Steve."

"What do you mean?"

My heart sank as I got it finally. That was how it was; real or faked, this was how he was going to deal. My eyes closed and I let out a long deep sigh.

"You don't remember..."

"Remember what?"

He had stuck to the line, even when Melanie threatened to tell him exactly what she saw. It was better this way, I reasoned, better to let the dream die. Still, seeing him hobble around the next day or two, I couldn't take it and had to head to my bedroom to jack off to the memories of his incredible tight ass, the look on his face when he ordered me to fuck him, and his pleasured moos. They would be mine, whatever he may say.

****

Now his son was standing beside me, looking for all the world like his father. I had to know.

"Err...Parker..."

"Yes Warren?"

"Parker...have you been...um...trying out some moves I didn't teach you last week?"

He looked like a deer in the headlights, or a bull in the headlights. He nodded.

"How did you know?"

"The limp...it's a classic rookie limp...but why didn't you ask me if you wanted someone to take your cherry?"

He gave me a quizzical look, and rubbed my chest.

"Dad said you were a bottom only with him. I assumed...well, I assumed you wouldn't be so much into that."

I shook my head. If he only knew. Still, more intrigue...

"So who..."

"Hi there fellas...can I get either of you a drink?"

One look is all it took. The young stallion was so anxious, and his eyes fell on Parker with what I could only describe as lust. His tail flicked quickly, betraying his feelings. And now that I came to it, there was a distinctly equine smell coming from a certain bull ass beside me. I smiled and ordered a beer. He trotted off, with a couple of backward looks.

"He knows doesn't he."

"Yeah, I told him. We did some stuff at his eighteenth a few months ago, my first real stuff with a guy. Just jacking off and stuff, but I loved it. He said he was straight but curious, I wanted to see how far I could get him. He is cute as fuck"

"Hmmm I admire your taste. And yes, straight guys can be flexible..."

"Yeah, so I found. When we met up today we headed for the barn for a talk and a beer and I told him what happened. That got him going, and then I gave him a blowjob, then an ass eating like you showed me. He was so horny he took me right there, bent over a tractor, precum for lube but nothing more. Fuck it hurt, but it hurt so good too. He shot off in a couple of minutes but stayed inside and I jacked it then he fucked me again and this time I came when he did. It was...."

"...magic..."

"Yeah..."

The slight pain in my heart was unexpected and a little vexing. Fuck I hated horses; especially young hot naïve curious ones who went places I wanted to without even knowing it.

"What are you guys doing?"

I had missed the hoofsteps, my bull able to move silently when he wanted. He looked anxious too, so I gave him a smile. He stood next to me, and I pulled him into a cuddle, which he relaxed into after a moments hesitation.

"Reminiscing..."

He looked at me strangely.

"Reminiscing. Old times...good times...you remembered, didn't you Steve? Especially the last time, after your bucks night. You pretended you didnt but you did..."

A slight cough, a slight embarrassed cough, and he shrugged.

"Yeah...I remembered all of it. Still do."'

"Was it good?"

"What do you think."

"Beer's are up!"

He tensed a bit as the young stallion arrived, looking for all the world like he was expecting the apocalypse. His ears swivelled, and his eyes were wide. I decided to take pity on him.

"Relax Spencer. You are amongst friends here. Though one thing...treat him bad, and you will have one bull and one ram beating you up with baseball bats...that's a promise."

The colt snorted beer out his nose, and Parker grinned as he slapped his friend's back.

"My the patriarchy is gathering. What are you lot up to, apart from making mischief?"

The mare joined us now, and the silence was general. She had that effect sometimes, like a school mistress. If only she could see what was in my mind.

"Reminiscing." I broke the silence, grinning at Steve.

"Yeah, reminiscing."

"Oh really, what about?"

"Nothing much, just...old times. And by the way, don't worry. Zoe will be fine; I have some good news for her."

Melanie looked at me oddly, reading my face. She got it slowly, her eyes going wide as she glanced over at her colt, with his arms around his bud. She shook her head and let out a soft nicker.

"Jesus Christ what is it with those bulls...I need a vodka...you fucking shit sheepy..."

Steve watched her go, puzzlement on his face.

"What the fuck was that about?"

I pulled him against me and smiled.

"Cost you a blowjob to find out."