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The fox drew rein and looked down, blue eyes taking in the landscape as they'd done so many times before. This was honestly one of his favorite parts of working at this ranch, and taking each of the horses out for their routines if they didn't see any action that day for the regular horseback-riding tours. It took time, though, and more often than not he got back later than he'd intended just because there was _so much_out here in the wilds, yet he still never really put in effort to change it.

He swung one leg over across the mare's back and slid down from the saddle, giving the big chocolate Arabian an appreciative pat to her shoulder as he did so. The ranch sat nestled between two hills, with the tour path coming up atop the crest of one and then back down around the other side, after giving a grand view of the surrounding countryside - the smooth undulations of the other hills, the deep green of the thick woods, the river coursing its way down to town, the bay sparkling in the distance.

This was where he always stopped, especially now that the season had changed into prominent spring: the usual smooth green of the windward side of the hill blossomed into lovely pink and yellow and white with all the flowers. The fox took a few steps closer to the rim of the hill, closed his eyes, tilted his head back, and tasted that air: cool freshness of the trees, faint salt of the bay and ocean past that, smooth floral sweetness of all the flowers. He stood with his paws on his hips and turned slowly to the side, drawing that air in to fill his lungs...

...and then his nose gave a little twitch, and he stopped. Something else on the air, something quite familiar - and that also gave a bit of a twitch in his loins, embarrassed as he might be to recognize it. One of the duties that came from working on a ranch was that he had to spend early mornings and late nights among the animals, cleaning their stalls and ranges, and sometimes helping out with the mating and insemination, especially when a breeder from out of town came in for his employer's county-renowned stock.

The first time he'd been called to help with that, the fox had been a mess of a blush, and his boss had to keep on coaxing and urging him - "come on, Matteh, it's not that gross" - but ultimately misread the fox's nervousness. At least, he did on the outside: the third time he had him do it was with some animals already here on the ranch, and he told him that he didn't have to wear gloves that time. And he'd gone out of his way to watch Matteh's expression, and show him in rich detail how to prepare the mare with the right touches and caresses, and held the fox's arms and paws in place when guiding the stallion, and... he swallowed, and shivered.

This definitely wasn't what he'd expected to happen on this little trip out. The plan was, he'd be gone for another thirty or forty minutes at least, and he knew that Gracie here had started her heat just last week - and because of that, of course the thought had crossed his mind, but he'd tried to at least be somewhat responsible. All of his touches and... excursions had been under the ranch owner's guidance and watch, tempted had he been to go out on his own one night and give one of the horses a little extra, personal attention; to be fair, though, he had been given just short of express permission to do whatever he needed with the lovely beasts.

The fox remained where he stood for a moment, as rooted to the earth as any of the trees down below, though continued with his eyes until they grazed over the mare's rump. High-raised tail brushing at the air, thick-ringed tailhole twitching and clenching beneath, and... slick black lips, shiny in the dying afternoon light with the wetness of inescapable arousal, giving a few winks to fresh pink. Matteh thought that he'd felt her get a bit twitchy during the ride up, but her scent had never really hit him until now.

Another slow draw in through his nose... and this time the squeezing beneath his pants came totally unintentionally. With the wind blowing in from the bay like this and Gracie standing at a bit of an angle where he'd left her, tail raised... with his sharp vulpine nose, he could see very well why her heat always sent the four stallions down at the base into a froth.

In fact it was remarkable that she'd allowed him to get up here at all. After two years on this ranch he'd spent enough time near the mares during their heats that he'd come to learn their behaviors, and of them Gracie in particular had a tendency to get rowdy. Not disobedient or feisty, really. Just... eager.

'Eager' so that a pat to the haunch had her hike her tail into the air and dance her hind legs around a bit; 'eager' so that, when in her stall, she'd press her backside against the wall and gate so firmly that sometimes you had to squeeze your paw in along her rump to reach the latch; 'eager' so that hopping onto her back often resulted in her moving so you couldn't tell whether she was trying to kick you off or just hump at the air.

Maybe he hadn't noticed it what with the rocky climb up to this point, or maybe the height of the heat just hadn't hit the mare until now - even from here a few feet away Matteh could see the thick drip of slick fluid darkening her pelt along the curve of her rump, spreading just slightly with each of those winks. Maybe she'd held herself off because she knew that it'd just be her and her handler before too long, and that this handler had struggled to stifle his desires since he'd started working here; horses could be damn smart sometimes. The truth of the matter was, seeing how Gracie continually shifted her hind legs, and adjusted her stance so all those clenching muscles remained directed toward the fox, and how she kept those sweet brown eyes on him while she tossed her mane... well, she wasn't about to let him ride her in this state, and he certainly wasn't about to lead her back.

Which meant he'd have to take care of this... that he'd have to take care of her. The wind picked back up, and brought her scent back to his muzzle: gentle at this distance, recognizable to him after his time spent around it, and almost irresistible, especially now that he had the time, the opportunity, and just short of explicit permission. Matteh felt his start to move finally, as if to resaddle Gracie as he'd done so many times before at this spot... but this time he remained behind her, instead of coming aside.

The mare danced where she stood, top of her thick rump just barely below chest-level with the fox. Her tail, unbound unlike some of the others at the ranch, swished and swayed fitfully... and gave him an even better look of what it was he'd have to contend with. Smooth brown pelt turned to soft, leathery black flesh, pulled and puckered in a firm ring of muscle that Matteh knew from experience would twitch, clench, and then relax in response to any touch; and then beneath that skin, that flesh folded out into smooth, slick lips, skin shimmering with tepid wetness, every now and then twitching outward in a needy wink - which sent another whiff of hot, spiced air right across his muzzle. His mouth watered, his nose and whiskers twitched, his hard cock throbbed; Matteh lifted a paw up beneath Gracie's tail, brushing it to the side so he could get a good, uninterrupted look.

And then she adjusted yet again, positioning herself directly in front of him. He took the cue and simply leaned forward, first touching his nose to the ridged ring of her tailhole, then pursing his lips right against hers where he could feel that hot, sticky slickness gathering against his skin, sticking and soaking as he nuzzled his way further down. Gracie winked again - and pressed herself firmly against his lips just as they started to part, giving him a good taste of her arousal as well.

Matteh shivered and instinctively swallowed, that stickyness clinging to his tongue, the roof of his mouth, the back of his throat, warm and wet and heavy. He breathed out, drew his tongue up between her heavy folds of flesh, swallowed again... then moved down and did so again, and again, and again, paw still keeping her tail lifted, tongue curling up along the lower rim of her tailhole every time. He kept his nose in place, pressed firmly against hot, ridged flesh, and lifted up along that rim as he moved his muzzle - he loved the feeling of pulling her slightly open, and her twitch, clench, squeeze in response to the tug, sometimes against the surface of his nose, sometimes against his upper lip, sometimes against the tip of his tongue.

Eventually he just couldn't help himself - and besides, with the height difference between his mouth and her ass, it was just more comfortable to focus on that thick donut beneath her tail, even though he wore the stickiness of her heat along the fur of his muzzle as thickly as the pelt of her inner thighs did. The fox drew in slow, shaky breaths through his nose, lifted up against the base of Gracie's tail, and then let those breaths out through parted lips over her twitching pucker... and he leaned forward to kiss that tailhole, pushing in to the center of the ridged flesh, digging his tongue into the hot skin and muscle, swirling out, pulling against the tight resistance.

The scent he'd picked up on the air strengthened and concentrated into noticeable taste, sharp and rich yet flat at the same time, something that dominated his breath and his awareness yet didn't quite make him curl his nose, or bite back a grimace. Along her tailhole, then, was a slightly different taste, bittersweet, salt of sweat, heavy musk... and of course Matteh continued to dig his tongue deeper, bringing his thumb down to push against her muscle and hold her partially open for him to wriggle into, giving slow, deep licks along the surface of her pucker, each one punctuated by a little flick inwards. Further in he could feel her clenching, where that ridged exterior turned to slicker, smoother flesh, carrying a different sort of slickness.

Ahead of him Gracie whickered and tossed her head again - and just widened her stance, at the same time pushing her rump down as if wanting and expecting one of the stallions back down at base to mount her. Matteh couldn't give her that - for one, he'd need a damn stepstool - but he could help her out a little bit: while working his tongue over the firm ring of her donut, running it around the rim and in the stiff hair of her pelt along her rump, he continued to side his paw down, brushing his fingerpads along the protruding tailhole to make it twitch and clench like he knew it would... and then caressing those slick lips under his fingers, feeling the heat and wetness of her sex, before working two slowly in.

The same sticky slickness that he'd coated his tongue in earlier now soaked into the fur of his fingers, warmed his pads, dripped down his paw... again and again he pursed his lips on and around Gracie's tailhole, suckling gently at her while he worked those fingers in against her, deep in and then back out, pushing against her clenching and winking. Every time he slid his paw up against her, he dragged his tongue along her tailhole as well, intentionally gripping and tugging along the muscle of her tailhole from inside - he loved the twitching resistance she gave, the little squeezing back that inevitably turned to relaxation and acquiescence, right for him to dive down and do so again.

Soft, wet leather, hot and slippery now with his drool and her own natural slickness... the fox reached up with his other paw and pushed at the firm muscles of Gracie's donut, pad pressing and working its way in to the center. Ridged skin turned to tight resistance... turned to smooth, soft interior flesh, squishing and pushing against his entry, trying to pull him in at the same time. With his thumb there he could - pull her open, gently so as not to hurt her (though honestly, that wasn't much of a concern with how much she pressed her body against him), and curl his tongue deeper inside of her slick flesh, where that sweet bitterness of her sweat turned instead to a sharper, almost tangy awareness, strengthening with each clench of that pucker around his thumb and his tongue.

He couldn't dig too deep into her like this, but because of that, he did the most he could. He worked his tongue against her in the same rhythm as his pair of fingers along her slit, dragging up and over wet flesh, pressing in, earning these little shivers and shakes and breathy whinnies from the mare. Matteh could feel the tension in her body, in the strong tendons of her thighs and the smoother skin of her rump. With his thumb still buried beneath Gracie's tail, he slid his tongue in, pulled out along her tailhole, placed a deep, wet kiss right there... and then did so again and again, ignoring the hungry drool and equine arousal that had now soaked into the fur of his muzzle and paw, and probably dominated his own scent. Not that he could tell: with his nose smushed firmly against the underside of the mare's tail and his mouth remaining locked to her tailhole, he couldn't really smell anything else.

After a while Matteh moved back, swallowing down that bitter-tangy musk as he looked over the horse's backside. He didn't even have to keep her tail raised anymore: Gracie did that for him, swishing and flicking, still prancing around in place as though she had boundless energy vibrating in her loins, from the twitching of her saliva-slickened tailhole to the squeezing of her sex below, dripping now with the thick whitish fluid of her approaching orgasm. The fox ran his fingers along there again, the mare's flesh like warm, wet silk beneath his pads; well-prepared (and also more accustomed to much larger insertions), he had a fairly easy time of working a third and fourth finger into her, sliding in between slippery squeezing waals. With his other paw he worked eagerly at the fly of his pants, and then dove back in to press his mouth up to the thick ring of her tailhole yet again.

Balancing sucking and licking, kissing and digging his tongue into her, he let out slow, shuddering sighs through his nose against the underside of her tail, one paw teasing and working and pressing inside of her while he stroked himself with his other, his own interest and eagerness only heightened by all the heat, the scent clinging to his muzzle, the taste on his breath, the wet slickness rolling down his chin and throat that wasn't just his own drool.

Gracie had continued to lean into his ministrations, shakily swinging her backside down to push her tailhole against his muzzle, or maybe to press herself down onto his other paw, or probably both. After teasing at her like that, he now slid his paw up to the wrist inside of her, felt her clench around him in response with each wink, and then pulled back out, only to repeat and slide in a little deeper, a little faster. He didn't really have experience doing this, so instead worked off of the mare's reactions: she seemed to like it when he sank his paw into her, turned it to the side, and pulled it back out, careful not to run his fingers too firmly against her inner walls. That was hard enough in itself, what with her clenching and squeezing around his wrist and lower arm, her... _leakage_soaking and slipping over his fur, splashing into a growing puddle between her hind legs.

Again the fox swallowed and drew back, watching his work. A thick drop of saliva hung off of the lower rim of Gracie's tailhole, then dropped down across his arm with another of her twitches; that ring of muscle pulsed and squeezed and shifted, pulling in closer to her body or settling down. Sweet slick pink showed along the inside, her muscles stretched and loosened by the fox's digging thumb and tongue and lips, though that flesh blinked in and out of view with her movements. He could taste her on his breath and saliva, and every ragged inhalation through his nose brought that rich scent back to him in full force.

Then - her tail lashed, she tossed her head, her legs bent as she lowered her body... and Matteh both watched and felt as she hit her peak around his arm, buried about halfway inside of her. Hot, sticky, slippery rush of the juice of her orgasm, yellowish-white, coming out in a few bursts alongside her tight winking; Matteh drew his paw back towards her lips and held her open as each burst came, the mare's body shivering with each one. He swallowed, drew in her scent, thought about leaning in to catch it in his muzzle... but then she was done, the last of that slickness rolling out beneath her with a few more exhausted winks.

The fox drew his paw fully out of her, dripping with that same milky liquid about halfway to his elbow. Throughout 'taking care' of this mare, he'd slowed in his focus on himself, but now that _she_was done - at least for the next few hours... he swallowed, felt his nose tickle with the heady scent wafting up off his arm, then leaned forward against the horse's backside and wrapped that sticky-slippery paw around his cock, using her mess to his advantage.

This was also something he hadn't felt before, and something that he'd like to feel again: that extra sensation, the heat of the mare's body, the same wetness she'd just dumped over his arm and across the grass between her hooves. With that combined with the time he'd spent tending her rump, it didn't take him long at all: pulling in short, hot breaths through his nose and letting them back out through clenched teeth, Matteh lifted himself up onto his toes, gripped at the mare's pelt with his other paw, settled his tapered tip as best as he could against her still-winking clit... then swallowed, gasped, and spurted his load out across her lips, the force and pleasure of his own orgasm causing him to stretch just far enough to empty the last few drips directly inside of her.

That done, Matteh fell back to his feet panting, and kept his arm hooked over Gracie's backside for support. All he could smell, all he could taste was mare heat and horse ass, with one half of one arm soaked to the skin with the fluids of the equine's orgasm... and - he flicked his tongue over his lips, swallowed, shuddered - basically his entire muzzle slickened and matted with a mix of drool and musk. This definitely_wasn't how he'd expected this ride to turn out. Gracie seemed satisfied, too: she'd leaned down to start munching at some of the tall tufts of grass nearby, though every now and then blew out her nostrils in a low _huff. Matteh knew that feeling quite well; he struggled as well, and fumbled at doing his pants fly back up with these slippery fingers.

Another look at Gracie's backside let him know that if he were to return her in this state, anyone who cared to look would be able to tell that she'd had a hell of a time up on this hill, her skin and pelt surrounding her puckered tailhole and wrinkled lips all damp and sticky. He'd have to catch his breath now - the fox half-stumbled on his way around her side when he tried to take her reins from atop her saddle to lead her - but however it went, he would have to give her a good cleaning before returning her to her stall. To be honest, though, his jaw ached, the back of his tongue felt sore, and all his thirst had been quenched. The same seemed evident of Gracie.

For now, at least. Matteh had a hell of a time climbing back into her saddle, but the mare gave no complaint or resistance to him, and actually nuzzled against his paw when he leaned forward to pat the side of her neck. Funny enough, that was the paw that he'd had buried inside of her just a few moments ago; the scent wafted back to his muzzle after he took a better hold of her reins.

The first time was always the most nerve-wracking, and by the time he'd made it down to the treeline, his heart had just barely slowed down to its normal pace. If he counted it right - Matteh went through the days in his head while guiding the mare down the slopes - then Gracie should have... at least another full week on her heat. Maybe he could get some more practice in during that time.