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Control, what's it all about, I mean really? In the grander scheme of things we are but mere tiny collections of chemicals in a loose bag, clinging to a ball of rock hurtling through space, every second we travel thirty kilometres, each heartbeat is miles apart. We cling to this ball and our lives, safe in the knowledge that we are in control, but we aren't. The governments think they have control of the people, but laws only work while we all obey them. Mutual consent to our elected officials, yet we all break the rules all the time, in a thousand tiny ways. Jaywalking, speeding, internet piracy... the list goes on. You can't get through life following all the rules, so ask yourself, is the government really in control if I can get away with all the shit I do?

However, the illusion of control, that my friends is a powerful thing. Now, the best part of that illusion is; you cast it in your own mind first. You believe you have control, you believe that you are in charge, team leader, parent whatever, you convince yourself that you have the power. Take a look in the mirror, you ain't fucking He-Man and neither am I. Control is something you hold only when the other person lets you, either through an act of will or stupidity.

Now what has all of that got to do with the price of fish? Sweet fuck all really, but it's how my story starts. Me, blinded by the illusion of control. I was a young man when I made my first million, just twenty-two years old, I ain't going to lie to you and claim to be a self-made man. Truth be told all those millionaires and billionaires who claim that are just trying to sell you snake oil, get you to buy their brand. Like me, they all had friends, family and just plain gullible fools that they used to help them make themselves richer. Money is easy to get if you are rich enough, the whole fucking financial system is designed by the rich, don't you think we made sure we would stay that way.

Although I will say I was bright, smart even, I would say clever but clever is dangerous. A hoss like me, oh yes that's me a nice big horse. Well ok, not too big, a lot of horses are walking walls of muscle and while I'm fit I'm no bodybuilder. My fur is chestnut, save for my chest and a stripe down my muzzle, oh and little white rings around my hooves. My eyes are brown, hazelnut to be precise, and boy do I love to be precise.

Now I went to a very nice school, Harvard...why yes my blood does run blue. My father could simply not countenance my attending any other establishment, I had to go where he did, and learn what he learned. Of course, what I learned at Harvard was that I may be many things but I am not my father, for one thing, he was a banker and I was a guy in love with computers. Also, he married my mother and I am deeply in love with cock, oh boy yessiree, I can't get enough of that big old juicy sausage.

So while I was matriculating at Harvard by day, I was masturbating princes at night... well ok, not princes, but hot guys. Big and dumb jocks mostly, the sort who want their cock sucked, but don't ever want to admit they might be gay. Stupid fools that were so easy to control afterwards, a few simple words, a veiled threat that you might let their family know that their big old good Christian boy, just loved getting his cock sucked by a guys lips, or pounding a guys ass.

Of course, while I was learning how to control guys, I was also getting an actual education, I learned a whole range of crap, not just programming, but business strategy and the like. I put that to use with the help of my father, right back before I even graduated, me and a friend, a fuck buddy from my class. A bear named Malcolm, big black and fuzzy, with a big comfy belly. He wasn't really my type and I wasn't his. We were each other's safety lay, a good place to go when your balls were itchy and you had struck out for the third or fourth time.

What did we make? Oh just Crystal Crunch, oh yeah that stupid little ap game. So simple, just pretty colours and sounds and yet so many millions and millions of people play it. Our business took off and before I knew it we had an office in New York and a staff of over a hundred.

So that was me, young, hung and full of cum (on the best of nights that is). However, with that youth came insecurity, I had a staff of a hundred, and I was a CEO not even in my mid-twenties. I didn't want to be treated like a kid, so unlike so many of those internet companies you heard of, I wasn't about having a fun swinging party atmosphere at work. There were no slides to the first floor, sweet machines or games consoles.

Our place had a strict dress code, shirts, and ties. I kept my staff at a distance. Malcolm seemed to be a little more relaxed about it than me, but I stalked the office just looking for behaviour that I deemed 'unprofessional'. Many an intern was told, not too sternly, to tuck in that shirt and straighten up that tie. Men and women three times my age called me Sir and I liked it. I liked it because I was in control and I revelled in that control.

That all changed one day, I'd like to say it was the day 'he' came to work for me. However, it wasn't the day. He had been working for my place for six months and that was about all I could take. Who was he? His name was Brad and he was... annoying. He was laid back, unkempt, his blonde fur was scruffy and his mane wild, with braids that were partly frayed. He called me 'Bra' just like he called the rest of the guys and it made my blood boil (come on seriously, I mean bro is bad but bra? I have never been found snugly holding any woman's squishy bits and I am quite proud of the fact).

What didn't help was that Malcolm had hired him, said the guy was a genius and... well, that was the really annoying part, Malcolm was right. Brad was really good at his job, everything he was asked to do he did well, better than most of his peers and he knew it. I would check his work personally, while he watched, leaning back in his chair, hands behind his head, oh so very fucking comfortable. Never once did I find any flaw, not even the smallest error to turn into a stick to beat him with.

Not that I was going to let that stop me, it was on the last day of his probation that I made my decision. It was time to let him go. No hard feelings, he just didn't fit in, wish him well, will write a reference...blah blah blah. All that sort of shit, the taking a soft breath, breaking eye contact to look out the window, as if firing hurts me. All subtle ways to help the soon to be departed depart, but know I wasn't totally evil while doing so.

Friday was dress down Friday, Malcolm's idea to 'boost staff morale'. I, of course, refused to participate, it wasn't becoming for a CEO to turn up to work in jeans and a t-shirt. So I was dressed, as always, in a sharp black suit, white shirt and black tie. I looked fucking good in a suit, even if I do say so myself. With a serious tone, I asked Brad to join me in my office right at the end of the day. Last few moments of a Friday, I figured it was the best way, the others would have left by the time I finished giving him a darn good being fired. So he would have no-one to whine to, sure he could by text and phone, but it's not the same. The impact to the office would be almost none.

"Alright, Bra, on my way," he replied cheerily waving his hand at me. I shuddered inside, he was wearing a god damned tank top and some really short khaki shorts. He was buff too, his arms swinging freely by his side, golden fur glistening under the fluorescent lights. Brad even walked laid back, nodding and winking to co-workers as he did so, not knowing they were soon to be ex-co-workers.

I opened the door for him and he walked past me with a, "thanks, bra!" Then he plonked himself down in the chair opposite my desk. Brad didn't sit, he threw himself at furniture trusting it to hold him and it did. The chair may have bent under his broad muscular frame but it held firm, even while my mind screamed for it to break, just so I could see him finally fall on his ass. He didn't just sit in the chair either, he lounged back, his huge hands behind his head and his legs spread so wide you might wonder who he was waiting to walk between them.

The fact that he had sat down without an invitation vexed me greatly, and I could feel the evil glee inside me rising as I thought of how I was going to wipe that smug relaxed smile off those deliciously plump lips. "Alright, Brad you've been with us what, six months now?" I asked walking around to sit at my desk.

"Yeah, s'right Bra. Six awesome months!" His enthusiasm passed over me but I didn't notice. In fact, I didn't hear his response, because right at that moment I was noticing that my employee. The thorn in my side, the fly in my ointment, the little bohemian, hippy shit in my toilet bowl... he dressed to the left. How did I notice you ask? Well, it wasn't just that his legs were spread so wide a boat could sail between those mighty meaty thighs. It wasn't the long cock shaped bulge that ran along his left thigh. It was the flare of his cock that was peeking out of his shorts, the huge meaty morsel stared at me with its only eye and I stared back, my mouth filling with drool. It had been months since my last fling and all I could think of in that moment was just how tasty that fucking cock looked.

"Eye's up here, bra!" He chuckled and right there, in that moment without my noticing or consent, I lost control of myself and more importantly of him. I jumped and looked up at his face, his smile had widened and he was practically leering at me. It was clear to me he knew that his soldier was peeking out and he knew that I had been staring at it, with hungry eyes.

"I... those shorts, I know it's dress down Friday but..."

"Everyone seems to like them, plus they are totes comfortable, bra!" Brad replied with a wink that made something inside me quiver with excitement. My eyes couldn't help but dip down again, maybe it was just my mind playing tricks but I swore his cock had swollen, the flare was fully peaking out of his shorts leg and my nose could scent it. Oh nutty and fruity, the scent of a ripe stallion cock, I could breathe it deep and fresh from the source for hours at a time.

"Well... I mean.. I suppose," I stumbled over my words, feeling the heat rush to my face. I forced my eyes up onto his smiling face and then tried to regain my composure. "Ok, well I called you in here because... today is the last day of your probation and that means I have to decide if we are going to keep you on." This was it, the moment, in a second I would wipe that smug smile off his face by telling him I would no longer have to see it every single day.

I stood up and turned to look out of the window, "It was a very, hard decision to..." I paused as I heard sniggering behind me. My blood boiled, how dare he laugh at me while I am firing his ass?!

"Oh, I am sure it was very hard, bra! Still is from where I'm sittin," I glanced back at him and then in horror I realised what he was laughing at, I didn't want to look and yet I couldn't stop myself. I tilted my head down and there I could see, my fine hand-tailored ten thousand dollar suit, forming a huge black tent like some marque at a fucking goth convention. My traitorous cock was standing to full attention to have its opinion counted.

My jaw hung open as I stared down and then looked back at him. Only he wasn't laughing anymore he was smiling, grinning and then he licked his lips slowly and said, "you want me to... help with that Bra?" He didn't wait for an answer he leapt to his feet, his huge hooves making muffled thuds on the carpet.

"N...no I...OHHH!" My words died in my throat as a firm huge mit gripped around my flare, my silken boxes being rubbed around my sensitive swollen tip.

"Mmmm not sure you gave the right answer there, Bra." His voice had gotten lower as he approached me, his huge frame blocking out everything in my vision as his fingers squeezed and manipulated my horsehood. "I said, you want me to help with that Bra." This time his words had an edge to them, he was grinning, oh so fucking confidently and I noticed this time when he said it, it wasn't a question. It was a statement and I whimpered a little.

A second paw was added to the first, stretching the fabric as he stroked along my aching length. I could feel my silk boxes getting sodden with the stream of pre my cock was leaking. He knew just where to touch me, rubbing the flare, teasing my medial ring at the same time. "It's a nice little length you have here, Bra. Not much compared to mine, but you know, some of us were blessed and others not so much."

I gulped, unable to speak, only moan and gasp as he squeezed and jerked my cock. In my mind I realised I didn't have a change of clothes with me, if he kept going and made me cum in my suit, I would have to walk home, stinking of stallion spunk with a huge wet stain. The grin on his face let me know the choice wasn't mine, he was going to decide if I soiled myself, what was worse, the feeling he was driving into my cock told me I was going to let him do whatever he wanted to it.

"Why don't you, help me out down there too, Bra," again I knew this wasn't a suggestion. The tone of his voice said it clearly and simply. I would pleasure his cock and there was no two ways about it. My paws were trembling a little as they reached down and started to stroke down his shorts. "Naw! Bra, I don't want to get my shorts dirty. Pull them down for me, Bra."

Unable to stop myself my paws reached to his shorts, unfastening the button and pulling down the flies. "Gonna need more than that Bra, with a cock as big as mine stuck down the leg, you really gotta pull, better to use both hands bra. Maybe even get down on your knees," he whispered the words and when he did so he squeezed my cock and then let go. My entire body jumped as his touch was removed, it howled in outrage at the removal of the pleasure.

My knees gave out on their own, without thinking I found myself before him. My trembling paws on his waistband pulling down firmly. He wasn't wrong about needing help, those shorts had been tight before he was erect, now there were like a second, very tough, skin. For a moment I struggled and then with a rush the fabric fell, and his cock rose. Springing free like one of those surprise joke snakes in a can. Only it wasn't something to laugh it. It was well over a foot long and thick as any cock I had ever taken, it was also hard, very hard. I could tell you it was hard because as it sprang free it bounced up and slapped me hard in the chin.

Above me, I heard a soft chuckle, "don't tell me that's the first time someone cock slapped you, bra. Little bitch filly, you love it." Most guys would have added don't you, to the end of that sentence, he didn't bother he just smirked down at me and I couldn't look him in the eye. The heat of my arousal could only be matched by the heat of the embarrassed blush I could feel burning away my cheek fur.

"Now, show me just how much meat you can fit in those pretty velvet lips, bra," he cooed it down softly and yet something in his tone let me know he was both mocking and commanding me. In my office, the very centre of my kingdom. He was looking down at me, his fur wild and free, his dreadlocked mane dangling over his perfectly formed chest. While I looked at his thick horsemeat like I hadn't eaten in months and it was a roast dinner. My mouth flooded with drool and my nose was choking on the scent of his masculinity. Musky, sweaty and rank, the scent of a real man.

He didn't need to ask me twice, my hungry lips parted and I stretched my jaw until it ached, and popped his huge flare inside. My hungry tongue swirling around his flare, while my paws reached out to feel his nuts. They were leathery and huge, my fingers stuck to the sweaty orbs and clearly, he needed to wear shorts to keep cool given the heat that radiated off those bad boys. Not that I really noticed because my mind was full with the flavour of his meat, grass, musk and just a hint of cinnamon, my tongue lapped over it hungrily.

Two huge paws reached down to stroke my cheeks, and then he placed a paw on my head, taking a firm grip on my white mane and he thrust forward. My eyes went wide as he forced his maleness into my mouth, stuffing inch after thick inch into my maw until my lips kissed his medial ring. "Oh fuck, nice job Bra. Most bitches can't take that much. I bet you've had a lot of practice, bra."

I couldn't answer and I didn't need to, he knew he was right and so did I. I could feel his hot length throbbing against my tongue as I struggled to breathe, his flare pressing to the back of my throat. He pulled back a few inches and I gasped, a deep lungful of cock breath. Then, he thrust in again, my mouth flooding with his pre as he began to rut my muzzle like he owned it. Each time he only pushed in until his flare pressed to the back of my throat. Now I have deep throated a couple of cocks, although having a long equine muzzle it was rarely needed. His flare, however, was huge and I knew I would never take it. I suspect he knew that too because he never tried to choke me with it.

All he did was fuck my mouth, nice and slow while I noticed him fingering stuff on my desk. My desk! Like it was his property, he was moving pictures and my laptop around one piece at a time, all the while his hips slowly pumped my face full of his thickness. Inside, I fumed, while my mouth sucked softly and my tongue squirmed against his hot length. His moans of pleasure only served to spur me on, my eyes closed and for a moment I forgot who I was, who he was. I was just a guy loving the taste and feel of a cock in my mouth. Loving how powerful my partner was, his strong hips bucking slowly and inevitably, like the tides moving in and out, utterly unstoppable all you could do was face the truth, you would get wet.

His pulse was beginning to race, I could feel it in his thick length. Brad's moans getting louder and louder, as his thrusting grew faster. I knew that soon I would be flooded with his essence and my tastebuds quivered at the thought of getting to taste the seed of such a strong male. Then, without warning, he pulled his cock from my hungry lips and to my shame I cried out in frustration as he denied my hunger for his juices.

"Sorry, Bra. I want a taste of this mare ass of yours. He replied, his hands pulling me to my hooves, I went obediently, letting him pull off my suit jacket. Thousands of dollars of fabric were thrown to the ground like worthless trash, and he pulled my pants down roughly, not bothering to unfasten my belt or unbutton anything. Instead, he just pulled them down to my knees, leaving them uncomfortably holding my legs together.

Next, he practically threw me over my own desk, the area he had been carefully clearing while I sucked him off. My tail flicked in anticipation, my mind spinning. It was my desk, my employee, I was the boss... no longer in charge. He grabbed my ass with the same tenderness a cowboy would show a two dollar whore. His thick fingers pulling my cheeks apart roughly, it hurt but somehow the little bit of pain only served as fuel for my desires, making them burn all the brighter.

"Nice man pussy, bra. Looks tight, then they all are for a guy hung like me," his cockiness oozed out of every word. It was pure confidence, the sort that came from being built like a shire-pony and hung like one too. I wanted to say something, to challenge him in some way to say he was my employee or that I could always buy all the huge cock I wanted, while he could just about afford his rent.

Of course, I didn't. Any words of rebellion died the second, the instant, I felt his warm breath huffing down my taint. My entire body trembled, it had been years since anyone had tasted back there, and I was so desperate to feel it that I lifted my rump, arched my back and pressed it to his lips, his chuckling mouth.

Oh, he knew what I was, in that moment, his willing mare, his filly, his little fucktoy just begging to be fucked. Then, he began to take me. His warm tongue slithering up my taint and over quivering doughnut. Brad moaned at my taste as I gasped at his touch. My fingers gripped my desk for dear life, the other guys who had eaten my ass they had been different, gentle or hesitant maybe. Brad was different, there was no hesitation, no gentleness, he wanted to taste me and he was going to feast, like the kings of old, loudly and rudely. I could hear the slurping noises over my cries of pleasure, his tongue didn't just taste my ass, it assaulted it, forcing itself into my ring and twisting deeper.

I clung onto the desk desperately as his muzzle pressed me down, holding me in place with such gentle and yet firm pressure. His tongue writhed and danced inside me, there was no way he hadn't done this before that much I knew. No guy finds the prostate that easily on his first time at the crease. Brad's tongue was alive inside me, lashing hungrily against my sweet spot making me fuck back against his lips. While, I cried out louder and louder, my drool ruining the week's financial figures printout that I kept on my desk.

In that moment I didn't care about any of it, my company, my employees, my dress code. None of it mattered all that mattered was that wonderful wriggling tongue inside me. Brad was twisting and thrusting his tongue, spearing my prostate with each thrust. My cock twitched under me, trapped helpless and untouched, staining my office carpet with a never-ending river of stallion pre-cum. It was tingling with each thrust, as pleasure ran up and down my spine, running along my hot length and making it throb.

His lips kissed my nethers hungrily as he showed he was willing to take his time, to prepare his bitch for what he wanted. In the back of my mind, I knew what was coming, or who was cumming and where. I also knew I should stop this, that if we were caught it would probably make some sleazy tabloid, or at least cause some bloggers and twitter whores to go crazy. However, my mind was overruled by my body which was screaming like the animal it was demanding I give in to its wants and desires.

His tongue pulled out with a loud slurping sound, "man that is like, grade-A boi pussy, bra!" I felt my cheeks heating with a blush as he complimented and derided my ass in one statement. I whimpered feeling empty, but not for long. My whimpers turned into a far from manly squeal as three fingers pressed to my pucked and my doughnut was forced open. Fingers scratched into the fine oak and polished finish of my desk as pain blossomed in my mind.

"Suck it up, Bra. You'll be totes grateful for mah prep work in a minute," he snorted and I couldn't help but look back at him. Somehow he managed to lounge while standing, despite the physical impossibility. I had never seen a man looking so much at ease, while with one paw he fingered my ass, deep and rough and the other he stroked his cock. I could see him smearing his own precum down his huge black and pink, mottled shaft.

My cries didn't stop, I just couldn't keep quiet. Not with the three thick digits, fucking me, their near dry entry had hurt, but my ass was well trained as were his fingers. They soon found the same target his tongue had hit so expertly. He pushed my button again and again, while his fingers wriggled around, spreading my ring. Part of me knew he was right, I was going to be grateful for the prep work. The other part knew that, no matter how long and deep he fingered me, I would never be ready to take the monster between his legs without pain.

"Man, just listen to those moans, you totes love it rough back there bra," his goading words only made my cock throb harder. He was in control, he knew it and I knew it. I had brought him in here to show him who the boss was and he was showing me who the bitch was. His fingers moved faster and faster and I could hear him moaning as he stroked himself to the sight of his employer, exposed and helpless at his mercy. "Yeah, you love it, little filly bitch, bra." His voice was somehow both relaxed and yet powerful, he was willing to take his time because he knew that I was far too lost to my lust to say no.

Still, I had some pride, I didn't say anything to confirm it. Well not beyond the pleasured moans and whimpers I couldn't stop making as those magic fingers pressed my buttons over and over. The thrusting getting faster and faster, my cock throbbing desperately hard, aching through neglect, I couldn't touch it, it was trapped under the desk.

Then, without warning, his fingers were gone, but I had no time to feel empty because almost the instant they left I felt it. A massive battering ram was pressed to my rear entrance, a huge bit of siege equipment placed against a weakened doorward. His strong paws gripped my hips tightly, his nails biting into my skin. Then he thrust and his battering ram smashed my gates like they were made of paper. My ring stretched wider than I ever knew it could, pain lancing up and down my spine. While I clung to the table squealing like a bitch in heat and what was worse pushing back into him. My body betraying me utterly and showing that I wanted it, I wanted him inside me. Oh, gods did I want him, no want isn't enough, I needed him, I was on fire for him and I heard his smirking voice mutter. "Damn, your pussy is like so tight bra, gonna need to loosen ya up a bit more."

Those smirking words made me scream out, "yes!" My voice was weak and yet the word came out clear, despite my entire body trembling, weak as a kitten I pushed back hard as I could forcing another inch of him inside me, his huge flare beyond my entrance the shaft was easier to take. My ass was burning and yet the pain was already starting to fade, leaving behind it a deep hunger and need.

"Ohhh, nice bra. You really are a cock hungry slut," Brad cooed as he grabbed tighter and thrust harder, working inch after inch inside me, not pausing until his medial ring pressed to my spread pucker. His paws stroked up my back and he cooed softly, my ears almost detected a hint of pride in his voice as he whispered, "wow, never had a bitch take it all in this quick, bra." not sure if he was proud of me, or of himself for spotting the horny little bitch that hid inside the fierce stallion bossman in a sharp suit. "I totes think you can take it all, bra."

I totes reckoned he was, like, right, bra. Even with six inches of his maleness inside part of me railed against his abuse of the English language. Abuse my tailhole sure, but leave the Queen's English out of this, she didn't do anything to you. Not that I said that to him, I said nothing, couldn't even look him in the eye. I did, however, squeal like a horny pig while he forced his medial ring into me, and with one brutal thrust stuffed my ass so full of horse meat I knew I would be limping for days.

"Fuck, bra! You like took it all, like a fucking champ," he moaned those words and then he leaned over me, I could feel his hot strong body on top of mine. His powerful muscles pressing down on me, showing me that I was the weak little mare and he was the strong stud who was going to breed me full of his colts. "I knew you would, bra. I can smell a bitch and you, with all your 'tuck in that shirts' mmm you are the totes the uptight bitch stereotype. All manners and smart words in public, like. Then in private, you are any man's slut, just desperately gagging for a real man to hold you down and stick his cock into your bitch hole."

"Fuck you," I spat those words in reply, burning with anger. Not just because he had me over my desk and was insulting me, but because deep down inside I knew he was right. Out there I needed to have control, I had to be in charge, but in the bedroom... it was so nice to let go and let someone else just tell me what to do. No stress, no hassle, no worries about sales, advertising revenues or employee troubles. I knew it and I hated it, I was supposed to be everything and I was never supposed to let my employees see this side of me.

"Naw, bra, fuck you!" For a moment I could have believed there was a hyena on top of me, for the laugh he gave. However, an instant later my mind was elsewhere as he pulled back a few inches of his meat and rammed them home hard. He didn't need to aim to hit my prostate, a monster cock like his was constantly squeezing it. Every motion of his meat inside me sent waves of pleasure up and down my body. I panted and squealed as he began to rut me, slowly and powerfully at first. His muzzle staying beside my ear, his hot gasps echoing in my ears, the moans of pleasure I was giving him echoed into my brain. While my squeals of bliss echoed around the room, throughout the empty office building.

His paws grasped my shoulders, pulling my body back and I pushed back too, like the wanton slut I was and am. His meat was so thick and it filled me so wonderfully. I felt his medial ring begin to pop free with each thrust, an extra little moment of pleasure, feeling my ring stretching further. Brad lifted off me, his weight no longer holding me down, he didn't need to hold me there, it would have taken the entire national guard working together to force my fingers to let go of that desk. My body knew right where it wanted to be and it was on that oak, with his mighty branch being rammed into me again and again.

Back on his hooves, Brad began to pull out more and more slowing down just a little. He moaned softly and he savoured his dominion over me, slowly and agonisingly he deep dicked my ass. "There bra, nice and loose." he cooed softly as he fed my hungry ass his entire cock once more, then pulled out slowly letting me feel every god damned inch of his maleness as it slid from my suddenly empty depths. I wanted him so badly right then, but he was teasing my hole and he knew it. Licking his lips he stared at my face, watching me open and close my eyes, pant and squeal. While his cock took what he wanted from my depths, slowly and deliberately.

Brad stopped halfway through a thrust and just stayed still, his cock throbbing inside me. For a moment I just lay there waiting, and then I looked back at him my eyes filled with one question, 'why?' He smirked at me and then grunted, "roll over, bra. I wanna see your face while I fuck your pussy." This was a step further, up until then he had been forceful, pushing me to my knees, and throwing me onto my desk. Now he was asking me or telling me to roll over, like a good doggy bitch. It wasn't just so he could see my face, it was to show that he could get me to do what he wanted, to show me just how much he controlled me. Well, he was in for a surprise.

I gritted my teeth, my arms and legs tensing and then I pushed hard, His cock pivoted inside me and he cried out in bliss as I spun around on his cock. Landing on my back looking up at him, my aching cock standing proud above me, raining pre down onto my white shirt. He certainly was surprised, most men are at the feel of a body turning around their cock, with his thickness my entire rump had clamped down around and twisted, the feeling must have been intense, I could see his jaw hanging open, while he groaned and drooled lost in the pleasure.

"What's the matter, bra? Never felt a dude spin on your cock before?" At last, it was my turn to smirk, this time I was the one goading him. Of course, I was goading him into fucking me hard and fast. My balls were burning and my cock was so desperate I knew if I could get him to use that mammoth cock, to ream me with everything he had, I would orgasm harder than I had in years, maybe ever. So I was doing what any good bitch does when they see their top flagging, I was challenging him. Like some upstart colt challenging the herd leader, making him put me in my place.

"Mmm, I dunno Bra, why don't you ask me again," he replied, his cocky stance returning quickly. His paws grabbing my ankles and lifting them to his shoulders. I opened my mouth to reply but the only sound that came out was a desperate scream of pleasure. He had dove over me, pinning my ankles to my own shoulders, trapping my arms. While, his thick length had been stuffed deep inside me, splitting my depths in two. He didn't say anything he just stared at me, grinning and smirking, while he let his hips do the talking. They didn't just talk, they shouted and screamed into me. Slamming against my rump, again and again, his thickness reaming my depths like nothing ever had before. My hands flailed uselessly against the desk. My cock was on fire, my balls felt like they were about to burst, they convulsed and throbbed as below them his thick rod plundered my fuck hole.

He used me, pounding away like some jock on his first cheerleader. There was no care for my pleasure only for his. Brad's grunts and moans were almost as loud as my squeals now, his hips were thrusting wildly, without rhythm as he stuffed me full of his thickness again and again. His wild mane was even wilder now, it looked like he had been walking through a gale, or running hard. The sweat was glistening in his fur and I was crying out up at him.

Then he surprised me, his warm lips met mine, kissing desperately, dominantly. His tongue, with the taste of my ass, was thrust into my mouth. I returned the kiss with everything I had, burning up with the heat and passion of the moment. My ass spasmed around his length and I screamed up into his mouth, he devoured my cries of pleasure. Between us my cock spurted untouched, jetting pent-up rivers of pony spunk. While below it Brad's rod moved like a piston as he fucked me raw, flooding my depths with his seed, claiming them as his own.

Our kiss remained, we drank each other's cries of pleasure, while out hips smashed together, until his heavy balls were empty, and my ass was sloppy with his load. Then our kiss broke and he grinned down at me, "damn, that was totes a good fuck bra."

"Yes, it was. Interesting performance review technique," I jumped at the voice from the doorway. I knew it was Malcolm and turned to see the bear standing there. He was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, dress down Friday was his idea and he always did like to lead from the front.

"Mal... I can.."

"Explain? It seems really self-explanatory to me," the bear replied with a smug grin. "I told you he was damn good, didn't I?"

"Well yes, he is good at his job..."

"Awww, yeah bra, his ass is totes tight and yet he can take it rough and raw," Brad chuckled as he pulled his cock from my ass. My office desk was suddenly flooded with stallion spunk as my legs were released and I almost fell off the desk.

"Well, if you are done for the night your brother and I are thinking of hitting somewhere for food, I am assuming you have worked up an appetite," I was floored as the two talked. And the penny dropped in my brain. It had all been a setup, my friend had hired Brad knowing I would fire him. He would be the tenth or twelfth person I had fired just for being too unprofessional in the workplace.

"Oh right, you know I always like hanging out with my little bro and his new beau, bra," I was too shocked by the revelation to noticed Brad wiping his cock clean on my very expensive suit jacket.

"You know Jack is older than..."

"Yeah, but you know I'm bigger than he is, bra," Brad replied with a smirk, putting a paw on the bear's chest. "Or do I have to remind you of what me and Jack did to you on your birthday?"

Malcolm grinned a little, clearly lost to some happy memories of horse brother fun and then shook his head and glanced at me, "You coming?"

I looked down myself at my cum stained shirt, and then at my pants and jacket, both dripping with stallion spunk, "is... is there a dress code?"

"Naw, Bra, didn't you know, it's like dress down Friday," Brad replied with a laugh and a snort. I couldn't help but think that even the cheapest establishments required you to wear more than horse cum and a smile.

Malcolm chucked something down onto a chair, "put these on and come join us in the car, I've been trying to get you to actually meet Jack for weeks. You'll like him." With that, the bear and Brad left and I climbed down off my desk. My office stank of horse spunk, the office cleaners were going to put in a complaint, I was damn sure of that. Just as I was damn sure I didn;t care. I used my shirt to scrub off the rest of the spunk. My pucker was tingling, and sore, but in the good 'I just got fucked' kind of way.

My friend had tricked me, all this time he had been nodding along and letting me take the lead. Then when he had had enough, he hired Brad. Still, there are much worse ways to be betrayed. Plus, part of me was really wondering just how exactly Mal knew that Brad's was bigger. There was a fun story there, hopefully with some encouragement maybe there could be a re-enactment.

I grabbed the clothes Malcolm had thrown down for me. A pair of Jeans and a t-shirt were pulled on. I couldn't help but laugh as I caught my reflection in the mirror and read the shirt, "Who's the boss?" For once I knew, it probably wasn't me, but if that involved getting a lot more horse cock, maybe a little bear meat, I could live without being the one in control.

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