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Vast, immortal suns. Forges of the universe. Innumerable trillions of them, spread across time and space. Their secrets exposed and splayed across a blackboard for me to puzzle over, understand, and control.

I couldn't have given less of a shit.

Okay, wait. Let me back up a tad here and explain. I did give a shit. I don't want you getting the impression I was some dumb university jock. I was very serious about my studies, and normally I would have been completely enthralled by a lecture on stellar dynamics. Hertzsprung and I were bros, alright?

Buuut...Astronomy was scheduled right at the end of the day. A Monday. Mondays are impossible at the best of times. The weekend still fresh in your mind, all those happy memories of fun and food and fucking...and then trying to concentrate in a suffocating lecture hall, on the ass-end of campus, while half-asleep? Already a pretty tall order. Then imagine that while your mind is going, oh hmm M-type star, how fascinating, your dick is singing a different tune. One that goes more like bull ass, bull balls, bull muscle, bull dick, bull bull bull bull...

I couldn't stop thinking about him. The bull from the gym.

Bolin.

As the lecturer carefully enumerated the differences between supernova types to a smattering of glassy-eyed students, I glanced to either side of me. Nobody else was sitting in my row. There was a bunny a couple rows down, but she was playing a game on her laptop; she'd never look back. I slid my hand down under the table with a probably unnecessary amount of casualness and grabbed a handful of my chubby dick. Good thing the bunny was too engrossed in her game to hear my muffled groan of sexual satisfaction. It felt really good to squeeze my dick. It felt even better when I went under my waistband and stroked it. And as I pleasured myself, the lecture hall and everything in it faded into the background, and all I could think was: fuck that bull.

I'd met him the week before, at the campus gym. I used to gym for an hour every afternoon during the week. I'd had my fill of being the little nerd in high school, you see -- it was time to be a big nerd. Because let me tell you: no matter what people say about "just be yourself" and "inner beauty" or any of that...other people are way more inclined to spend enough time around you to discover those qualities when you've got muscles to lure them in. That's a fact. So, I put in the time and managed to put some bulk on. I would never be a beast, but I felt good, looked good, and enjoyed the side effects. Inner harmony, an improved sense of my place in the universe, and the power to control seagulls with my mind...

Heh, no, fuck that: my sex drive was through the roof.

So, I was exercising, doing some cardio on a bike. I was in the zone, feeling the burn, transiting the sphere -- whatever shit they call it, I don't know -- and I looked up, and he was just there. Instantly, I was angry at him. I guess he hadn't technically done anything wrong, unless there are laws against having an ass crafted in the ass-forges of Olympus itself. But it should at least have counted as light treason that he was allowed to simply...walk into the gym and work out. Like he was a regular person! Like he had no idea he was a fucking stunning example of the perfect male form. Which he didn't seem to, somehow. I mean, universities, right: there's a lot of young people. And half of them are guys. And a good number of those are fucking fit studs. And fucking fit young studs love to show off, to lure in that pussy or dick or cloaca or whatever they're into. But not him.

He was doing deadlifts that day. Off to the side, by himself, with the barbell. A look of total and utter focus on his adorable face. He was real handsome: snow white, with a black nose, and a ring through the nostrils. The usual bull deal. Tall, too; a good deal taller than me. I think I'd look straight at his throat if we faced one another. He was also broad in that way that guys get when they're actually worked out properly, and not only gone for vanity muscles. He looked like someone had coiled endless ropes of muscle fibre around a rock-solid core, stuck a couple tree trunks under it, and then robbed the stevedore parts store for some arms. And hairy! Shit yeah, so fucking hairy. He had a white tank top on, but it was soaked with sweat and was basically transparent. I could see everything.

His body hair was as dark as his skin was light. A dusting of it spread across his chest, the peppered black hairs accentuating the solidity of the muscle underneath. A thicker patch grew in between the pecs, sauntering down his chest and belly to disappear into his pants. Ooh, what do you have down there, Mr Bull? I bet it's a dick. His pillar-like legs were hairy too...and then there were his armpits. You know how, with some guys, you can see their pit hair peeking out even when their arms aren't raised? Yeah, he had that. Only the tips of the hair, but it was dense and dark and I just knew -- or hoped I knew -- what the rest was like: silky, deep thickets of musky goodness that all but begged you to bury your nose into them and never come up for regular air again.

He was the most magnificent guy I'd ever seen at that gym...and yet, not once did I see him preen, or show off. He didn't look around to see if anyone was watching him when he did a rep, or casually flex to make thirsty subs flock to him and try to drink of his refreshing masculinity. He kept to himself, and did his thing, and paid nobody else any mind. I liked that.

Yeah, yeah, put that eyebrow down. I'm allowed to have some depth! I'm not just a sex-mad stallion, alright? I'm all complex and shit.

So, I'm cycling away, but keeping an eye on him. He wasn't looking my way, so I leered shamelessly. Gyms are made for perving, right? Every time he bent down to grab the barbell, I could see the bulge in his pants. Big dick or big balls? Was he hard, or was that still soft? The eternal mysteries of the perving horse. But it was fucking beautiful in any case, and it was making my workout a hell of a lot more fun than usual. His muscles bulged out every which way, and the expression of complete determination on his face was too cute. Furrowed brow, nostrils flared. He was gonna lift that fucking metal and you couldn't stop him. I egged him on mentally, imagining my own body in place of the piece of equipment. Lift that steel, stud. Show it who's the boss. Yeah, fuck that ersatz metal dick with your thick cock-arms, handsome...

Suddenly, his head whipped around, and he looked right at me. Like, right at me. My heart stopped; for a second I thought he'd somehow read my mind. He had achingly beautiful blue eyes, deep as sin. His nostrils were flared wide from exertion and sweat had traced trails through his fur. I couldn't look away. You hear people talk about how they locked eyes with someone else and had like a wordless conversation or whatever, but you never really take it seriously. But I fucking swear, as I stared into those eyes, words flowed between us. I could feel them. Practically hear them, too...

"Excuse me! Your alarm is beeping really loudly. Do you mind?"

His voice was so feminine! So...so feline. And so...irritated? I turn, and there's this civet cat next to me with a real sourpuss, haha, expression. So, uh, yeah. A little less time eye-fucking the stud, and a little more time paying attention to my workout, maybe. The bull had looked over because my alarm had been beeping for like a minute, louder and louder, while I mooned over him like a lovesick colt. He wasn't the only one looking at me by then; half the other cyclists were staring, too. Hooray, Tyler is the centre of attention. Let me quickly die of embarrassment. I slammed my fist down and killed the alarm, holding up a hand in general apology. As everyone else looked away with disinterest, the bull grinned at me and shrugged, before returning to his weights. That was one wordless conversation I did understand: shit happens. Tyler the stallion, king of first impressions. Perhaps the next time I could stab him with a javelin or something, really get things off to a good start.

But here's the thing, right. As soon as I reached university, high school felt like forever ago. I hadn't simply left the closet when I graduated; I'd burned it down and used the remains to make a rather attractive charcoal drawing of a big fat dick sucking off another dick while three other dicks watched and jerked off over them. I was still on a huge gay high from the liberating freedom of being out and proud, and now that I had some muscles too, I felt like pretty hot shit. The old Tyler would have been all embarrassed, and would have slunk away, and that would have been the end of it. But new Tyler felt different. New Tyler was confident!

...confident that if he didn't turn out to like cock, I could push him over, run away, and hide in the bushes outside. There was still quite a bit of the old Tyler around, muscles notwithstanding.

Ultimately, however, confidence defenestrated fear. I dismounted, slapped my towel over a shoulder, grabbed my water bottle, and sauntered over. He was midway through a lift, super focused, and didn't see me coming. I stood to one side and took a drink as he grunted and huffed, blowing air through his nose so hard it made the ring in it bounce a little. He was really fucking strong. No way I'd be able to lift even half that. He got upright, snorting and groaning and sweating like a pig in a sauna, and then simply dropped the bar. I was pretty sure that wasn't allowed, but I mean, who was gonna argue with him? It crashed into the ground, and it was as if everything in the world shook except him. The horned Atlas. He bent forward, resting his hands on his stovepipe thighs and pulling down air fast as he could. Hello, opportunity.

I stuck my water bottle into his face and waggled it. "Need a drink?" I said mildly. He looked over in surprise. I put on my most disarming smile, and he smiled back, stood up, and grabbed it. Yeah, baby. I was in! Next station, Assfuck Central, population: his anus! Well, I hoped, anyway.

He flipped the top off the bottle and started drinking without saying a word. Poor thing was exhausted. I tried to think of something witty. "Sorry, um, about the alarm," I said. Aw yeah, nailed it. Smooth as sandpaper, Tyler. The bull gave a half-shrug that I took as don't worry about it, and when his eyes closed in pleasure as he drank, I furtively checked out his horns. He polished, for sure. Now, I'm not saying all bulls that polish their horns are gay, alright? It's not that simple. People express themselves in multifaceted ways that defy simple categorisation. I'm just saying that gay bulls like to look pretty. And did he ever fucking look pretty. He had a bubble-butt too, I noticed, which was icing on the stud-cake. He continued slurping down my water, and my mind went to filthy places as I listened to the guzzling sounds. You know what they say about bulls that drink water really fast...

He finished the last of the water with an airy slurp, then took a deep, satisfied breath and handed the bottle back to me. "No problem," he said, finally. "And thanks for the drink. I'm Bolin."

"Hello, Bolin, nice to meet you. I'm Tyler, and I'm a fucking horny stallion whose generous and worthy dick has been bugging me for the last hour to come over and fuck your tight bovine ass into oblivion. Do you want to drop your pants yourself, or shall I drag them off your perfect body with my teeth?"

I didn't really say that. I mean, I might have, if my body hadn't turned to mush the instant he spoke. His voice was...hooooly shit. I can't even properly explain. He sounded perfect. Perfect for me, I mean. You'd think a big guy like that would have a deep or gravelly voice, but it was the total opposite. Soft, and beautiful. He actually did sound a bit feminine, ironically. It was a huge fucking turn-on.

"Tyler," I replied, sticking to single words while my brain ran around in circles going bullstud with a velvet voice eeeeeeeeeee. "Nice to meet you." I took back my water bottle, trying not to pop a horse-boner for everyone to see and pretend to ignore -- look at it, you pervs, I know you want to -- and I complimented his training, and he said thanks, and we talked a bit more. I'm being vague because I was really distracted by how he sounded and looked, and I don't recall the details of, you know, the words or whatever. All I remember is, I ended up asking him to help me out with my weight work. Because on the one hand, I did want some help, and he clearly knew what he was doing. But on the other hand: satin-voiced, bubble-butted muscle stud. And such a charming fucking attitude! The more we talked, the more I realised he was a simple, wonderful, sweet guy; the sort of person I would definitely want as a friend.

I also absolutely had to fuck him.

He was studying medicine. He wanted to become a nurse. Why? To help people. I mean...how do you not love that? Plus, he blushed when I told him how impressive his lift was. Blushed! This male mountain, that could have crushed my skull like it was a box of tissues, acted like he was nothing special and had no idea other people could see him. Beefy, hairy, and shy? Yes fucking please. We ended up agreeing to meet the following week, on Monday, and he'd help me with my technique. We parted ways, with him heading for the exit, and me pretending to do up a shoe while watching that pert ass jiggle a little as he walked. It was only when he'd left my line of sight that horniness took a back seat, and reason reminded me that I still didn't know if he was gay.

Fuck you, reason! Leave my dreams alone!

I didn't seem him again until Friday; he was leaving just as I arrived. "Still on for Monday, Bolin?" I queried, and he nodded eagerly. I still had no idea if he was gay, and to be honest his whole demeanour had kinda thrown me off. If he'd been a big aggressive daddy, I'd have asked him to fuck there and then. But he was so sweet. It just felt, I dunno, wrong to blurt out so do you prefer twenty or thirty inches of horse cock to start with? So, I left it. Decided to figure that out later.

And then, fucking finally, it was later. Monday afternoon. The world's longest fucking lecture on stellar nucleosynthesis dragged to an end, and I was out of the door before the chalk had finished clattering to a rest under the blackboard. With my bag awkwardly draped in front of my crotch to conceal my definitely-not-soft-anymore dick, I made a beeline for the gym. Bolin was already there when I arrived, bench-pressing some ridiculous mass of iron. I dropped my stuff and let him finish the rep, then patted the barbell.

"No deadlifts today, bull?" I asked, my eyes taking in his body on the bench. Bulgy in all sorts of exciting places.

He sat up, hands crossed casually in his lap, and shook his head. "I thought this would be a better place to start. You gotta work on your arms first."

"You saying I got no arm strength, man?" I joked. He mistook my tone and shook his head emphatically.

"Oh no, no, I'm sure you do, it's only that you need to--"

I patted his shoulder. It was like sun-warmed granite. "I'm kidding, Bolin. Come on, time for you to make me swole."

We got into it. Bolin was a complete sweetheart, and he knew a ton about weight training. With him guiding me, I soon forgot what a hot thing he was as the screams of my inadequate muscles began to drown out all other thought. Eventually, with an exhausted clatter, I let the weights settle into their rests. I sat up, sweat streaming down my body and gasping for air. He offered me my own water bottle with a wry grin, and I took it gratefully. "That was pretty good, Tyler," he said in admiration. "It helps that you've done some training before, I think. If you can improve your time with this weight, we can move on sooner than I thought."

I nodded. "Yeah...uh, yeah." Speaking was still hard. Everything burned. "Okay...your turn," I manage to say, struggling to my feet and resting a hand on the exercise machine. He nodded happily, settling in. I took my position behind his head, glad to have an excuse to watch that pretty face. He put on that special "focus time" expression he did when working out - tongue sticking out a bit, brow furrowed, eyes narrowed - and off he went. Up and down. Bam, bam. He made my efforts look like a Fisher-Price commercial. His arms were train pistons; the iron never stood a chance. Neither, apparently, did his pants.

I didn't realise what the sound was at first. Like, what the hell, had someone farted? Then Bolin froze and my hands shot out, thinking he was struggling. Only then did I see the huge tear in his pants, right along the groin seam. And -- spilling out of it like eggs from a cornucopia -- two big bull nuts. I got only a couple seconds to gawk at them before the barbell crashed home. Bolin sat up, hands quickly covering himself. I'd seen all I needed to see, though.

If something ever happens to Bolin's face and he needs another way of proving that he's a bull, he can simply slap those bad boys onto the counter. They were serious testicles, fulfilling every stereotype you've ever heard. The leathery sack that was blessed to hold them was enormous, and only a little less pale than his skin. A line of his soot-black body hair ran right down the middle of it. It hung low and heavy; the testicles inside, I thought, must be fucking incredible. My mouth was watering in moments, and I probably even drooled a little. But Bolin, bless his innocent little heart, totally misread my satyr-like expression.

"Aw, shit! Sorry man." He seemed truly crestfallen, looking down at himself with an unhappy expression. "These pants are so old, I knew this would happen eventually..." I patted his muscular back in understanding.

"Hey, it happens, Bolin. Nobody saw anything." Except for me. I saw it all, bull-god. "Got a spare pair?" He shook his head glumly.

"Nah. Not here, I mean. Got some at home, but that's in Sinoville...I won't be able to get there and back before the gym closes. Fuck!" He kicked the side of the bench. "I hate missing weight days." He looked so much like a big, sad teddy bear, I very nearly wrapped my arms around him and hugged him. I would have offered him one of my own pairs in an instant -- shit, I would have offered him the very pair I was wearing -- but there was no chance mine would fit him. They'd just split again, probably worse, and everyone in the gym would get to see his big balls and the dick sitting above them, and maybe his tight ass-crack too, and start feeling themselves up, and get all horny, and...

Ahem.

Instead, I was struck by the most brilliant, ingenious, stupid, brilliant idea ever. It should never have worked. It should have died there and then. Teams of scientists in white coats should have huddled into a bunch and argued in low voices before standing up and shaking their heads. Ice-skating judges should have held up cards that spelt out "Not Even Worth Trying And Also We Love You Tyler You Amazing". But scientists and ice-skating judges are rare in university gyms, and so nobody was around to witness me casually say, "Well, you know...I've got the keys to the gym. You can go, and get some new pants, and we can carry on when you get back? The gym will be empty, but that shouldn't--"

"Yes." Oh man, did he ever respond quickly. Then he blushed and looked down at his feet. "Uh, yeah, Tyler. Sounds good. I'd really appreciate that."

I knew that tone of that first 'yes' quite well, though, and I couldn't help but let a grin grow across my face. I took a seat next to him on the bench and lowered my voice a tad.

"Bolin...you're kinda shy, aren't you?" He nodded, and I chuckled. "Do you know that that's really, really adorable?" His blush deepened. Fuck, I wanted to eat him up. Or out.

"It's only in public," he said softly, rubbing his chalked fingers together. "All the other people around..." He peered about the gym. "I don't know them so well, so I keep quiet. Do my exercise. Go home. Be by myself."

"Nothing wrong with that," I said. "But, Bolin...I'm not shy"--I omitted the mental anymore-- "so I hope you don't mind me asking that, once we're done with the workout later...maybe there's some other physical activity you wanna try?"

It was as if I'd turned on a heater next to me. The bashfulness radiated off him. But he looked at me with those baby-blue eyes, and a little smile under it, and moved his hand to rest it on my leg. Jackpot. He leaned in closer, and so did I, and he whispered to me. "I...I like gyms." He gave a little giggle.

"Yeah? Is it all the sweaty guys?" I asked. He gasped and put a hand to his mouth. He was so fucking cute, I wanted to frame him. "I bet it is," I continued, resting my own hand on his thigh and squeezing ever so gently. "Such powerful musk they've got after a workout, hmm? Or, perhaps it's the showers after? All those same sweaty guys, except dripping wet and showing off their goods? I bet you put them all to shame though, stud."

He looked away in embarrassment at my compliments, but nodded happily. "I like it all. The noises. The smells. I like to..." He looked around surreptitiously, which was kinda funny since about fifty people were surrounding us. Luckily, they didn't give a fuck. Thanks, anonymous strangers. "I always wanted to...to do it in a gym," he whispered, then bit his lower lip.

I squeezed his thigh a bit harder. "Bolin, that is the most unbelievable coincidence!" His mouth made an 'o' of intrigue as he raised his eyebrows, and I nodded sagely. "Oh yes. I've always wanted to do a sexy bull in a gym, myself." I lifted my hand from his leg and poked his pec. It was like vulcanised rubber. He giggled at my touch. "And I think," I continued, "but please correct me if I'm wrong here: you are a sexy bull, are you not? And, we're in a gym! I mean, what are the chances!"

He was beet-red as I flirted; a hoof slid back and forth on the floor like a small child in a stage performance. I was ragingly horny over him, and I had to exert quite a lot of self-control to not invite him straight back to my place for a night of non-stop fucking. But his dream of gym sex was kinda hot, and was giving me all sorts of naughty new ideas. So, instead, I helped him pack his stuff up -- he still couldn't bend over without flashing half the gym -- and walked him to the door.

"See you later, handsome," I drawled, just to see him blush. It was so easy. Bolin got into his car to head home and back, while I went to collect the spare keys from the main office. It might seem terribly convenient that I could get the keys to a university's entire gym, but you're not seeing the past in all its detail. I was studying inorganic chemistry; muscles notwithstanding, I was still a huge nerd. A real teacher's pet type. Of course I'd be allowed to take the keys. Normally it was for legitimate research -- to analyse the pool chemistry -- but that night it would be for..."research".

...did you see the air quotes? Oh, come on. Okay, never mind. By research, I meant fucking, alright? I was gonna fuck that bull in the ass. Way to ruin my clever joke.

So, I wandered back to my room, dumped all my stuff, and had a shower. I made an effort to not dwell on what was to happen later; I wanted to save all my cum for him. But after finishing up there, and getting dressed, it was still more than half an hour until Bolin would be back. I flopped onto the couch, hornier than I could ever remember. I thought again about Bolin's fantastic body. All that muscle...and those delicious balls I'd seen. It had made me super curious to find out what his dick looked like. I hoped it was thick; I loved fucking thick-dicked bottoms. Reaching around as we fuck to wrap my hand around a cock so fat, I can barely touch my fingers together. The best.

The daydreaming was driving me mad, and I gave in. I reached down to fish my dick out. The big trooper had been half-dropped for ages, and I helped him swell to his full extent with a few lazy strokes. My stallionhood was -- is -- very decent; long, pink, and topped with an amazing flare. I like it a lot. I gripped the flare with my hand, squeezing it as I stroked the shaft and imagined it inside Bolin. That big bull body would easily take all of me, even if my flare's size gave him a bit of a shock. I'd fuck him so good, pressed up against him, feeling that big muscle stud submitting to me, to my cock, to a stallion, like he should...

"Gonna fuck you, bitch," I growled, my eyes shut, visualising Bolin bent over, tail raised, legs spread. Presenting for his mate. "Fuck your tailhole with this fat prick until you scream my name. Yeah, say my name, slut. Say it..."

It didn't take very long. With a pleasure-filled groan, I busted a nut, the cum blasting out and soaking my face and shirt. My hands squeezed the last drops from my cock, and I let it flop down again. I took a shuddering breath and swirled a finger through the cum soaking into my belly fur, enjoying the warmth and the feel of it. Cum is great. I love cum. Especially my own cum, inside another guy, marking them as mine. That's pretty much all I thought about as I took another emergency shower and changed out of my dripping shirt. I also licked up some of my own seed, but in my defence, horse cum is the tastiest there is and should never be wasted. Once that little digression was wrapped up, it was time. I headed back to the gym.

When I reached it, it was all locked up, as expected; they were sticklers for keeping to the time. Can't have people improving their bodies after 7 pm, for some reason. And there was Bolin, sitting on a low wall outside in a nice, clean, un-torn pair of shorts, kicking his legs back and forth. He blushed the moment he saw me, and I very nearly fucking took him right there. Be still, my throbbing dick.

I sauntered over, doing my best impression of campus security, twirling the gym key's lanyard on one finger. "Evening, sir," I said, with a terribly fake gruff accent. Bolin giggled in answer, and I tried to suppress a smile. "Are you here to use the gym?"

"Yes," he replied, in that amazing voice. If honey oozing over a hard dick made a sound, it would be his voice. "But, um, it's locked up..." He jumped down from the wall and put his hands behind his back.

I peered thoughtfully at him, and then at the closed doors. "Yes, yes, it does seem to be, doesn't it? But I happen to have the keys, as you can see." I caught the spinning keys in my palm and held them up. "However, I can't simply let, ah, anyone into the gym at night, sir. Can you tell me why you need to get in?"

He was blushing again. He blushed a lot, I was realising. But what's cuter than a blushing stud? I wasn't complaining. "Yes, um, I'm meeting someone here..." he said, reaching up to grasp one of his horns and slid his hand up and down slowly, as if jerking it off. Sexy, naughty boy.

I raised an eyebrow and tsked. "Are you now? And what are you to going to get up to, exactly, sir? Just good healthy exercise, I've no doubt!" Bolin giggled and nodded. "Good, good. No hanky-panky in the gym, sir! That's expressly forbidden. And to be clear, that means..."

I walked closer to him, making sure he saw me looking him up and down aggressively as I approached. When I reached him, I pressed one palm to his powerful chest and slid it about. He was so amazingly solid. My fingers spread around one of his dinner-plate-sized pecs, and I nickered. "That means," I continued distractedly, "no kissing. No licking. No fondling of another male's hefty package." I dropped the keys I was holding in my free hand and grabbed his crotch with it. He took in a sudden breath, and then held it. When I squeezed, I felt not only the big balls I already knew about, but another bulky piece of flesh too. Big balls and hung then, oh my. It was going to be a great evening. I kept squeezing until I felt his hot breath snort out lustfully against me, and then carried on talking.

"No grunting. No husky exhortations to continue. No long strokes along hard penises. No short strokes along hard nipples. No nosing of balls. No soft licks along hairy assholes, and definitely no following that up with good hard rimming." The bull was growing harder with every word I said, his breath hot and fast against my face. I wanted him so badly now, but I was determined to tease us both until we couldn't take it any longer. If I wasn't careful, though, that might only be about three minutes. "No nuzzling of musky armpits. No cock worship. No raising your tail and flashing your pretty pucker. And definitely, absolutely"--I leaned right in, next to his ear--" certainly no being fucked by a stallion's hard, peerless cock in the gym showers after your workout. Sir."

He grabbed me and pushed his mouth hard against mine. His tongue snaked in, and we both moaned. I gripped his crotch harder and moved my other hand down to his waist and up under his shirt to tweak a nipple. He groaned and pressed up against me, needy as all bottoms are when facing the prospect of horse cock. His arms wrapped around me like steel cables. He was immovable, immutable; the central pillar of my lust-focused mind_._ Plus, he hadn't showered yet after his earlier exertions, so he still smelled amazing. The thought of fucking him, smelling him, of being that close to him was making me piss precum into my pants, and I'd probably have been able to cum there and then if we'd kept up that make-out session. But where was the fun in that?

Pushing back from him was one of the hardest things I'd ever done -- especially when I saw how he looked. His lips were still parted from the kiss, and the tip of his tongue was slowly circling them. His eyes were bright and locked on mine, and his rapidly flaring nostrils betrayed his own arousal. "Hi there," he said, smiling broadly.

"Hi there yourself," I replied, filled with the romantic wisdom of ten thousand romcoms. I reached up to grip one of his horns like he had done, feeling the smooth, polished surface. "You're horny," I noted, and got a bat on the ear for my pun. I laughed and let my hand slide down, over his ear and along his face. His fine white fur was marvellous to touch, and I stroked up and down his nose a few times to feel it ride up against my fingertips. Then I let my hand slip down further and tugged playfully on his nose ring.

The reaction was instantaneous. His eyes dilated, and a long lowing moan slipped out of him. Oh, he fucking liked that. I tugged again -- to confirm, for science -- and his hands slipped around to press into my lats. I couldn't believe the heat; it was like two oven-warmed plates pressed to my sides. I tugged on his nose ring once more, watching his unfocused eyes with pleasure and feeling his chest rise and fall under my hand. Did bulls have a higher body temperature than horses? I could think of one way to find out. I pulled my hand from grasping his pec and slipped a couple fingers into his half-open mouth.

I still don't know for sure if all bulls are warmer than horses, but Bolin sure was. His mouth felt soft and wonderful, and his thick tongue was squirming around my digits in no time. He moaned with unrestrained delight, suckling on my fingers like they were his mother's teats, and every tug on his nose ring only made the moan louder for a moment. I chuckled and pulled his head around a little by the ring, leading him like a prize bull, and he followed, unwilling to let my fingers escape. I gave him another finger for his trouble, and his grip on my sides tightened involuntarily. I saw his eyes actually close in ecstasy as he sucked and licked and squeezed on my fingers with his mouth. They opened again with genuine sadness when I pulled my hand back.

"If we stay out here much longer, Bolin," I said, tapping him on the nose, "I'm gonna end up fucking you on the sidewalk." His tail flicked about excitedly at the thought. "And that would be a terrible waste of this gym. Come - inside."

"That's the plan," he said with a smirk, and grabbed my hand, kissing it. The bull and I made our giggling, fondling way to the entrance. When I stopped to fight with the lock, he stood right behind me and pressed his large bulge against my ass. His nose nuzzled against my neck, the warmth of his skin contrasting with the cold of his nose ring. Distracting as fuck, but I wasn't gonna tell him to stop. "Don't promise what you can't handle," I told him, my hand shaking with excitement as I finally got the door unlocked. I pushed it open so hard, the frame cracked when it slammed against the door stop.

The bull and I hurried inside, my breathing now as heavy as his. I adjusted my crotch in as unsubtle a manner as I could, and he whimpered a little at the size of it. It's fucking good being a horse sometimes. "Go there," I told him huskily, pointing at the weights area, "and wait for me." He nodded and hurried off, while I made sure the door was properly locked. The last thing I needed then was some hopeful gym patron trying their luck and ruining my alone time with the stud. Satisfied that the evening's sexual exploration would not be interrupted, I walked over to join Bolin, pausing only to switch off most of the lights for a more romantic atmosphere.

He was standing next to the bench press, one leg up on it. The outline of his swollen cock and balls was clearly visible against the fabric of his pants, straining it to within a hair of its tensile limit. I gestured at the bulging bull genitalia with a smirk.

"You're going to rip these pants too, at this rate. And there's no more spares...why, you'd have to go naked then..."

He giggled and looked down, sliding a hand down his flat belly and across his crotch, outlining his dick in tight yellow nylon. "I can't help it," he said, squeezing his dick. The tube of flesh looked beastly, and I wanted it. "I'm all alone in a gym, with a sexy horse, and he might do anything to me..." The bull might be shy in public, but he was a huge fucking tease in private. I loved it. I reached down to fondle my own -- now damp -- crotch and nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, can't trust those horses," I said. "I hear they're only interested in sex. Horny buggers, the lot of them." Bolin chuckled, eyes fixed on my member.

"Oh, I hope so..." he murmured, reaching up to tug on his nose ring as I'd done earlier. His eyes were wide and deep, the baby blue of earlier seeming closer to cobalt in the artificial dusk. They were hungry eyes. I grinned, and walked a little closer, swinging my hips a bit to make my generous horsey endowment bob about in my pants.

"Still, let's no risk ripping those too, hmm? Get out of them." I paused dramatically. "And everything else."

The bull sighed happily, as if he'd been waiting for my command. He released his cock and grabbed his shirt instead, pulling it up and over his head. He did a clever little motion with his head that tucked the horns through the neck in turn, to avoid ripping the fabric. The way his arm muscles bulged and flexed as he moved made my own thick muscle bulge and flex. It took a shit-ton of effort not to walk over right then and force him to start sucking my dick. But it was a lot more fun to drag it out; a little blue-balling makes the denouement that much sweeter, I think. After the shirt came the shoes -- kicked off into the distance without a second thought, and later impossible to find -- and the pants and underwear, together. Seeing that incredible dick revealed was an event all by itself, but the complete picture at the end was so much more.

Imagine it. A hundred kilograms of nude bull muscle. Snow-white, and solid as they come, like a marble statue crafted to celebrate the power of masculinity. Counterweight arms swinging gently at his sides. The scrawl of dark hair across the chest and down the abs, like the divine signature of whatever horny god crafted him. Big, round, suckable nipples, as hard as his dick. The dick...oh fuck, the dick. Equine, but not as long as a horse; just thick. So, so thick. And uncut. That was new for me. Bovines almost always cut, but Bolin hadn't, so the skin didn't end behind the flare, like mine. It flowed over the corona and half of the glans, too, giving his cock the look of an angry purple eye. He was half-hard now, and I could see that as he grew harder, it would pull back entirely, forming a cute little turtleneck and exposing the entire flare. Adorable, like its owner.

"Can I...see you?" His quiet voice broke me out of my reverie, and I met his eyes with a grin. I shucked out of my pants first, giving my hefty dick -- long since escaped from my sheath -- a waggle, and only then taking off my shirt. When I was done, his eyes were locked onto my stallionhood, as I'd hoped they would be. Bolin was just as desperate for satisfaction as I was.

"There you go, sexy thing," I told him. "Like what you see?" A rapid nod and a fondling of his cock. Of course he did. We both did. I stepped a little closer, taking wider steps than strictly necessary to make my penis swing about and slap against my thighs. I liked how it felt, and I liked how he reacted. Fuck, I liked everything. I could have touched myself then and ended it all in seconds. But I caught a whiff of him, and my plans changed.

"You drove straight home and back, right?" He nodded, still looking my body over. I did a slow pirouette to let him see my butt as well. I didn't have plans for it that night, but it was firm and pert and deserved admiration. "Does that mean," I asked, halfway through my twirl, "that you've not showered yet?" He nodded rapidly, lifting an arm and tucking the hand behind his head. The armpit he revealed was a dense forest of night-black hairs, as I'd hoped, but when I saw that it was glistening with a fine coating of sweat, I nearly exploded there and then.

"I can go shower if you want..." he began, sounding disappointed.

"No!" He blinked in surprise as I rushed forward and pushed my nose into his pit. "Don't you fucking dare..." I began to say, but in moments it sort of devolved into wordless snorting and huffing. He smelled perfect -- naturally. The tall, white-furred bull was fucking perfect in every way. As I pressed my body against his side to have the best access to his pit, I ran one hand over his chest hair and gripped his ass with the other. "Gonna fuck this later," I said, except it came out more like, "Gnfa tuf fif hfr" thanks to a mouthful of bull. He giggled and lowered his arm, trapping my nose under him. I whinnied in happiness and pushed harder against him, opening my nostrils as wide as I could and sucking in the damp, musky, perfectly overpowering smell of him. My tongue slapped wetly against the hair at the same time, tasting his saltiness, and my upper lip rose instinctually in the presence of male sexual scent. I gripped the hair with my mouth and pulled on it, then released, then did it again. It was raw, and manly, and so fucking hot.

Everyone thinks they know what they'd like to be doing when they die. Usually, it's mid-fuck or something equally unoriginal. Oh, you want to die with your dick buried inside someone, thus forcing them to have to pull a dead guy's penis out of themselves? Think it through, people. Me, I've given it a whole lot of thought since those days, and I've not come up with anything better than that night, in the gym, making a slut of myself over Bolin's armpit. That's first prize. I want to die with my nose buried in stud armpit. Epitaph: "Here lies Tyler, soaked in musk. He died like he lived: lusting after sweaty men". Perfect.

So, yeah. That went on for wonderful, pungent ages. When I had sniffed and sucked the first pit so clean that my tongue no longer felt like it was having sex on every lick, I grunted and moved across to the other one. And when that one was done, I slid over to his chest and tongue-fucked one of his fat nipples for a bit. Really got my thick horse lips wrapped around that bad boy. I wish I had a recording of the gym that night, because I swear you would never have guessed I was a dom from the moans and gulps and subby noises I was making as I worshipped that body. Eventually, I broke for air. I had to; my breathing had become so shallow and frantic as I worked on him, I was getting lightheaded. Although, perhaps it was the top-class bull musk. Someone should bottle that shit, seriously.

But in any case, I stood there for a moment, taking deep breaths, and looking up at him. The shadows exaggerated his bulk, making him loom over me, a glorious mountain of muscle. Throughout my attentions, he hadn't said anything, only made sounds; sighs and grunts and happy ticklish squeals. What a good boy he was. Now, he smiled down at me, and I smiled back. He leaned in and kissed me -- and I hoped he still tasted himself in my mouth -- and then said in that perfect voice, "I love being sniffed and licked so much, Tyler. Most guys don't like how I smell."

"They're fucking insane, then," I said, sneakily raising a hand to tug on his nose ring again. I pushed my hips forward to make my tumescent dick knock against his.

He blinked lazily, cocking his head to one side as he looked down at me. "I like getting sweaty so much, but all the other guys make me shower. It's really nice to have someone that likes it too." His eyes flashed down, to his member, and mine followed. "I..." He bit his lip, the shy bull coming out once more. Well, I thought I knew what he wanted. I reached a hand down to cup him, and he sighed. "Yes, that...but I also want..." He paused again, then placed a hand on my chest and stroked it up and down.

"Go on," I murmured, as my middle finger pushed up on the skin between his balls, making them loll to either side of my palm. "What were you going to say? Was it...naughty?" I smirked when he gasped, then gasped myself as his hand teased my nipple. "Oh, you dirty little boy." I gestured around at the empty room. "Look. We're all alone. You can tell me the filthiest, nastiest things you want to do, and nobody else will ever know. Just me, and my cock." And any cameras the gym installed without me knowing. I still wonder if there were any. If so, we gave them a fucking good show.

He huffed at me, still playing with my nipple. I rumbled my pleasure, and then he leaned closer as he had earlier when we sat together on the bench. It all came out in a rush. "I want you to lick my musky foreskin, and suck my sweaty balls, and rim my hairy crack like you sucked my pits and fuck me until all I feel is horse cock inside me." His mouth was open a little, and his pink tongue shivered with desire; simply saying it was getting him excited. He had no idea it was doing even more for me. I grabbed his mouth and kissed him roughly, all air and spit and warmth.

"You trying to tell me what to do, you horny slut?" I growled huskily, squeezing his lower jaw. "Does the shy little fuckbull grow a backbone when he's all alone with a big hard horny stallion?" He seemed momentarily taken aback, as if he wasn't sure if I was joking, so I gave him a nice big wink and squeezed his nuts a little. A flush ran across his cheeks, and he tweaked my nipple in response. Nice and hard. I whinnied and stamped one hoof.

"And what if he does?" the bull asked back, his voice harder than before. Lustier. "Could you stop me doing...whatever I wanted to you?" We both knew I couldn't, and that was half of my excitement. Dominating this tremendous male with nothing more than my dick and a massive dollop of overconfidence. Then he sighed and released me. He rubbed his hands over himself, then lifted them and laced them behind his head, wafting pit scent over me. "I just think...if you like how I smell up here..." Lip bite. "Then you'll like it even more down there."

Alright, he won that one.

I whinnied lustily and slowly lowered myself to my haunches, my eyes following the path of his treasure trail as I dropped. It thickened up along his lower belly until it merged into the biggest, darkest pubic bush I'd ever seen. As I faced that silky crotch fur, I had to agree with him: I did like the smell down here more. He didn't smell of old sweat or unwashed skin or anything unpleasant, despite having exercised hard so recently. He simply smelled like a male. The efforts of his workout had left a sort of aftershavey scent on top, and his precum topped it all off with an amazing sharp finish.

Beyond his scent, there was...well, fuck, there was everything. A thick, proud dick that jutted out like a flagpole, with nary a bend nor a curve to it. The big bull balls I'd already played with a little. And the trail of hair that ran down them, down, down...and under. Taunting, teasing me to imagine what further delights might be in store between the Olympic ass I'd perved over earlier. I didn't know what I wanted to try first, honestly; it was all so inviting. But after a moment of touching and squeezing everything like a kid in a toy shop, I settled on the dick. I lifted it in one hand, making the purple-eyed monster look right at me, and explored his foreskin with the other.

I would never have guessed that a bit of extra skin on a dick could change it so much, but I was perfectly happy to be proven wrong. It had its own unique smell when I pulled it back. I could see how it might be unpleasant on some guys, but the bull took proper care of his jewels. As I rolled the skin back over his crown, the only thing I smelled was sexual desire. I dipped in for a practised lick of the head -- Bolin might be a bull, but I knew how to work a horse cock -- and had him whimpering in seconds. He was slimy with pre, and to my delight, I realised that the foreskin had trapped a whole lot more of it than I was used to. I eagerly licked up every drop I could find, before licking further down the pole.

I don't know if you know bulls very well. You get two kinds of bull dick: they call them "the pizzle" and "the pole". A very long, narrow penis unique to them, or a shorter, fatter equine-looking one. It's not entirely equine, it doesn't fully retract into a sheath; just sorts of flops around when soft. I've played a lot with both since those days, and I can't really say I have a favourite. But, the pizzles don't ever have foreskins, and in that respect I gotta give it to the pole.

Bolin's pole was the first I saw of that kind, and still the one I compare all others to. It was as pink as a hot flush, and veins zigzagged over the shaft like cracks in stone. I pressed a finger gently against one of them and felt his blood pulsing through it. Vital, and strong. When I pulled the foreskin back behind the crown, it stayed there, folded up like a wonderful origami. I told him how beautiful it looked. He blushed at that, of course.

"Guys get weird about it sometimes, but I like it." He reached down to stroke the skin back and forth, pulling the glans tight and loose in turn, the colouring a deep purple now as he hardened fully. "It feels nice."

"It looks nice, too...mesmerising, even," I said, watching him play with himself, giving the bulbous head the odd lick when the precum built up. Then, motioning for him to continue, I lowered my face and pressed my nose against his tremendous balls. The now-familiar bull musk was present there too, but even stronger. His balls shamed mine, of course. Drop two billiard balls into a hessian sack, and you'll have some idea. As my nose snuffled and explored, my hands made them swing gently from side to side, or hefted them up and down in happy disbelief. His body was a wonderful, sexy amusement park for me.

The balls had a sheen to them, a damp layer that didn't last long once I got to work in earnest. It felt so great to lick along them, feeling the smoother skin around one ball, then the hairy midline that ran down the centre of his sack, and then smooth skin again on the other side. I even pushed my tongue right underneath and lifted them up and down as if doing weights. Bolin giggled at that and said "Stoooop..." in a voice that clearly meant don't you dare stop. Such a cute fucking thing he was.

I pulled back from him at last with no small regret, but I had another fantasy I wanted to indulge with this studly bull. His masturbation while I played with his balls had brought him to full erectness; the skin of the foreskin had pulled back fully and stretched out against the shaft, and he looked completely equine now. I gripped it and stroked a little as I spoke.

"Time to get to work, now, Bolin. We're not only here for me to sniff your amazing fucking body." He murred and made to turn around; I pulled back on his dick and shook my head. "Oh no, cutie. Not yet." I pointed at the barbells. "You need to finish your reps. And I'm going to help you." Crawling over to them, I lay on my back, legs flat, dick pushed to one side. "You're going to do some squats," I continued, "and every time you come down, you're going to dip that delicious ball sack into my mouth." I opened my mouth and waggled my tongue at him. "I'm gonna taste 'em, and smell 'em, and give them a reeeeal good lick. The faster your reps, the more attention you get from me. I want at least forty, you hear me?"

I could see he didn't know what to say. His expression was a mix of urgent neediness and concern. "But..." He paused, trying to think of what to say. "But if I drop it, I mean, I could hurt you..."

I lifted myself up onto one elbow and stroked my dick with the fingers of the other hand. "Bolin. You're built like Hercules. Tell me, do I really have anything to worry about? Come on, flex for me." He grinned and flexed his arms in the air. Rolling hills of muscle stood out all over his body. I grunted, and my dick squirted precum all over me. "Exactly," I said, my voice getting husky again as I looked him over. "You're a demigod. The stud to end all muscle studs. There's no way you're gonna drop anything." I licked my lips. "Except your balls. In my fucking mouth. So do it." And I lay back, and waited.

Ball sucking was a powerful motivator. Not long after, he was standing over my face, barbell braced across his shoulders. I'd watched him load the bar up with a pessimistic set of weights, but I didn't care. I wanted the fantasy, not a world record. If anything, it meant he could do a lot more reps before being exhausted, and that meant more ball-dippings for me. His jutting cock cast a shadow over my face as he made sure he was right over me, and I grinned up at him. "Come on, Bolin! I wanna taste some salty bull nuts! Gimme." His balls hung so low, I could almost reach them if I stretched my tongue as far as it would go.

He surprised me with a suddenly aggressive tone. "You think you're ready for me, Tyler?" Metal clinked as he rolled his shoulders under the barbell. "You wanna worship my muscle bull balls and treat them like they deserve?" He snorted and tapped the side of my head with a hoof. "I'm the demigod, right, like you said? I'm the one with the muscles and the weights, and you're the needy mare lying under me."

He was a fucking delight, getting all aggressive when he was in a position of control. I couldn't wait to screw that out of him. But that was for later. "Yes, sir," I replied, trying to sound like every greedy slut I'd fucked that year, and only somewhat succeeding. I'm too fucking good at being a dom, I guess. Don't roll your eyes. "Please," I begged with a whine, "dip your hairy sack into my mouth so I can pleasure you, sir. I want to taste you, smell you, feel you...mmmf, fuck..." I was blue-balling myself at that point, so I threw teasing out the window. "Give me your baby-makers, bitch!" I yelled.

Bolin braced his arms and with a rumbling grunt, he lowered himself. His balls fell into my eager mouth, filling it with their weight and taste and smell. I leapt to work; slurps and grunts and wet noises filled the gym. I slobbered over those nuts almost pathetically, whining like a dog in heat. Horse tongues are long and thick, and I really know how to use mine. At first, I simply sucked when the two orbs were in my mouth, enjoying the feel of the two warm, hefty weights. I could feel them sliding about inside their musky home. Then Bolin would rise again, and they'd pop out, a thin line of spit running from my lips to their skin. I'd take a breath or two, and a few seconds later they'd drop back in. I had them sopping by the third dip. I also got a lovely sniff of him each time as my nose was dunked into bush, and the scent grew stronger as his workout progressed. My hands gripped and massaged his calves as he worked, and my dick drooled precum all over my thighs.

The bull was making those fucking sexy noises you get when guys are really pushing themselves. Deep grunts, and sudden intakes of breath, and horny snarls. The growing smell of fresh sweat -- from both of us -- contrasted with the equally strong scent of our dripping cocks, and every time I opened my eyes there was the mass of his Herculean body looming over me. Everything about the situation was so fucking masculine. I was in heaven. I pulled harder on his calves, trying to get his balls in my mouth for longer, to dip them deeper. I wanted to be immersed in the taste of him, swimming through a cloud of his scent. I lost track of his reps pretty quickly, which I kinda should have anticipated. My entire world was his sack and balls...until, with a monstrous yell, he tossed the barbell off his shoulders. It slammed into the ground with a crunch; far from my head, to be sure, but it scared the living shit out of me. If his balls had been in my mouth at that point, I'd probably have bitten them clean off.

"Holy shit, Bolin!" I yelped, my voice higher than I would have liked. "Warn me before--" The rest of my bitching was cut off by his body slamming down in much the same way as the barbell had -- except ass first, and right onto my face. I don't think I've ever gone from 'irritated whine' to 'greedy moaning' that fast in my life. He straddled my head, supporting himself on his knees, and his soaking wet balls flopped down across the top of my face. I could feel his dick started to drip gooey precum onto my chest. But all of that was secondary; vaguely registered by some tiny fraction of my brain. The rest of it was fully occupied by the world of ass that my mouth and nose found themselves in. It took exactly zero seconds for my very gay brain to kick into automatic.

Breathe, snort, lick, moan; the overture to a deep, hard rimming. Bolin grinding down on me, pushing around and giving a happy gasp every time my tongue tip flirts with his hole. The tightness of that same hole, and the glorious taste of it. The weight of overpowering bovine muscle bearing down above. My nose full of hair and musk and bull.

My brain gave a massive thumbs-up, and all concentration dissolved into a happy funk.

Bolin hadn't spoken while doing his reps, but he sure made up for it then. "Oh fuck, Tyler, it's too much...you're so fucking good at this...rim me, please, rim me deep and hard and fuck my hole right after. I want your horse cock to fuck me raw and dump a load inside...oh fuck, horse, do it, please..." His breathy voice was the perfect counterpart to my state of heightened pleasure. I reached up to grip his ass-cheeks firmly and found his hole with my tongue-tip -- but this time I didn't just tease it, I rammed my thick tongue as deep inside as I could. And that was fucking deep. The scream of pleasure from the stud straddling me as my tongue penetrated his tight bull hole was all I needed to hear. Perhaps he thought only a cock could fuck him, but I had something almost as good.

I rode his hole with my tongue like it was a dick, keeping it as stiff as I could. His ring was gripping me as if he'd die if I pulled out; when I did, he begged me to go back in, pushing against me with all his considerable strength. If I hadn't been working on bulking up myself, the sex-crazed fuck might have squashed me flat. But I did as he asked, because fuck me did I want to. I wanted to rim that gorgeous beast for the rest of my life. My lips wrapped around that muscled pucker and made sure it wasn't left alone for a second.

I tongue-fucked that bull hole like a pro, and only stopped when I felt his body shaking in a familiar way. The naughty shit was jerking off; I didn't want that at all. One hand reached around to grab his, pulling it off his dick, and with the other I pushed him off me. He raised himself slowly, unwilling to leave my mouth. I got up, breathing heavily and still able to taste him. My cock was as hard as it ever got, the flare bulging obscenely between my thighs.

"Were you gonna waste that load, bitch?" I asked. He shook his head, looking at my dick with the greediest expression.

"No...I just..." Guys can't talk properly around horse cock. He tried again. "Your tongue was so fucking...ufff, fuck me, Tyler, please! I need to get fucked right now!" He turned and bent over, flexing his hole at me. His tail lifted over it, curving up and touching his back. A raised tail; the universal sign for fuck me now you sexy piece of shit. The hair all around his gorgeous anus was laid flat with my spit, and the flesh of the pucker shone cherry-red, like an invitation. "Or tongue me again, or finger me! Do whatever you want, please, just -- just be in me!"

He'd asked so nicely, and I really was finding it hard to keep teasing him. I grabbed my dick and pressed the flare against him, pushing forward. "You want horse dick inside you, Bolin? You want my thick, hard cock pressing you open, stretching that quivering bull tunnel wide open?" He shivered at that, just like I imagined his body was doing inside, and pushed back against me. As if that would be all it took to drive a five-inch wide flare through his cute little ring, spit-lube or no.

"So much, yes Tyler, please, please. Don't make me wait longer, I'm needy. I'm so needy, sir, I need your cock." He was all sub again, calling me sir, begging me. He really was the best sort of slut. "Horse cock, the only cock. I love being fucked by a horse, sir, and I want it now, right now. You've been teasing me so much and I deserve it. Fuck my bull ass, sir, fuck me until I pass out!"

I pulled one of his arms back and kissed him hard when his head turned towards mine, biting down on his lip a little. He reached down to grab my dick and slapped it underneath himself, simply to feel me against him. Hands slid over sweat-covered muscle, and we made all sorts of unattractive sexy noises. I broke off and said one word.

"Shower."

We ran, cocks throbbing, balls swinging. When we got into the showers, I turned all the knobs on at once, filling the room with steam in moments. Then I put my hands on those beefy muscled shoulders and pushed Bolin's back up against the wall, kissing him again. I wanted him then more than I'd ever wanted anyone in my life before. I squished my wet body against his, feeling his cock sliding up my belly while mine slid between his wetted thighs. I moved back and forth, frotting our dicks for a few seconds, knowing this final tease would likely drive him almost insane. It did the same to me.

The bull cried out in what sounded like anguish, pushing me away and turning around, bracing his hands against the wall tiles. His wet tail swished to one side, and water streamed down his crack. "Fuck me now, Tyler! I can't take it anymore! Fuck me now or I'll fucking tie you up and -- ohhhhh fffffuuuuuuuuuuuu..."

Is there any sound more wonderful, more satisfying, more right than the long, rising moan of a guy as your dick finally begins to slide into him? I didn't even warn him. I'd lubed him up good with my tongue already, and with a strong push to get the flare past the ring, I was in. Heavenly warmth all over: hot water cascading down my skin, and tight, warm bull ass surrounding my dick. No power on earth could have stopped me then. The drawn-out flirting and fun of earlier had pushed me to my limit, and now the stallion was going to fuck his toy.

I bottomed out inside him on the first thrust. Experienced as he was, he still yelped; my flare must have felt like an explosion inside him when it rammed through that inner sphincter. But the yelp ended as quickly as it started, and he lifted his head to give what I'd call a roar if it wasn't so bovine. Not a moo, either; simply a bellowed sound of ecstasy that had me gripping his midsection and grinning. "That what you wanted, bitch-boy? You took my full cock in one shot, sexy. Colour me impressed. Got an extra-big load for you for that, fresh from my nuts. Thick and hot."

"Mmmmm..." I wasn't sure he'd even be able to speak as my body slammed against his, my dick ravaging his prostate as I used him like a cum rag. My full length was sliding in and out of him every few seconds, tens of thick inches taking him to heaven. But he found a way. "Yes, Tyler horse, fuck your bitch, make him yours, your sexy musky bull-bitch, fuck yeah, oh fuck I love your cock, sir...more, sir, more cock, harder, it's so deep inside and thick, I want more. Fuck me 'til I cum, sir, and keep on fucking me until I cum again, and leave me dripping with your seed..." His voice was like music, and the words drove me insane.

I reached around and stuck a finger through his nose ring, as I'd seen him do earlier, and tugged on it. The effect was incredible. His head dropped and he lowed like a feral, deep and long. "Oh yes, Tyler, fuck yes...again..." So I did, and he lowed again. "Yes, horse, yes...lead me around, I'm yours, make me do what you want...just don't stop fucking me...harder, Tyler, come on, fuck me like a real stallion! Breed my bitch bull ass!" I snarled and redoubled my efforts, and he sang for me.

So we fucked, good and hard, for ages. Two horny studs, mating like rabbits - or gym bunnies, heh - in a gym shower. I bet it wasn't the first or last time that happened there either. I bet there's been generations of guys fucking in there, like it's a rite of passage or some shit. Every other evening, someone splooging onto the wall as a big buff guy rides him. But they probably need to keep quiet, what with all the other patrons around. Bolin didn't. Oh fuck, did he ever not. Being taken in the ass by a stud stallion in a gym shower was his dream, and he got his fucking money's worth. He screamed and moaned and gave high-pitched little yelps of anguished delight, all rendered extra-hot in his smooth sexy voice. He said filthy shit that made me fuck him even harder out of blind lust, and romantic shit that made me fuck him harder to teach him a lesson. I paid him back in grunts, and thrusts, and muttered lines like "Sweet fucking ass" and "Lemme hear you moan"...

Hey! I'm a fucking horse. Don't you judge me. You're after my dick, not my fucking wordplay.

I honestly don't know how I lasted as long as I did. I think maybe I was so pent up from my tease-induced blue balling, it took a little while to sort of come unclogged. Or maybe blowing a load earlier had given me some leeway. Either way, I'm grateful, because I should have cum in the first three seconds of being inside that world-class ass, and that would have been embarrassing and wasteful. An ass like that should be properly worshipped. Abused by a male: yes. Fucked hard by a horse cock until it's puffy and wide and still trying to pull you back in when you pull out: of course. Soaked with cum and put out for everyone to see: absolutely. But never wasted. He was so muscular back there, he only had to grip down and his entire passage shrank to like half the size. That's all he did, the entire time. Incredible. He was a super-tight fuck, and it was awesome. I rammed my stallion prick inside it over and over again, and all I felt was hot, slippery bull muscle gripping down. It moulded along my flare and kissed my shaft. Every time I pulled out enough for my crown to nudge his prostate, I felt his legs shake. So when I felt my balls rise and knew the long-delayed explosion of horse semen was close, that's where I focused.

I pulled out to the point where I felt his legs go weak, and I held my dick there. Short, sharp thrusts on the same spot, over and over. I released his nose ring and grabbed his incredibly thick dick instead. It was so engorged, I couldn't fit my fingers around it. I fucking loved it. I jerked the bull off as I fucked his prostate, and water cascaded down around us. The steam had filled the room, making his shape indistinct even this close. It was like fucking a god taken bull form. Bolin began pushing back, urging me to go deep again, but I resisted...until I suddenly matched one of his pushes back with a single massive thrust forward, and a hard squeeze of that bull-pole.

Bolin lost it. He nearly slipped as his legs shook, he had to hold onto the taps to keep from falling down, and his voice went up what must have been a full octave.

"Breed me, breed me, ohfuckfuckfuck, harder daddy, harder, more, fuck my ass harder, I want it, give me your load daddy, soak me, do it, oh, ohh, oh fuuuUUUUU...!"

He fell forward against the wall, every muscle tense, and I felt his cock pulsing in my grasp the same moment his ass clamped down on my dick like a dying star. The smell of bull seed being pumped out moments later was heightened by the warm, damp air surrounding us, giving it a potency that had my head spinning. Every shot elicited a moan from his mouth and a powerful contraction in his ass, like a vice trying to milk my dick dry. My flare was being gripped and squeezed in all the right spots, and that pushed me over the edge. I whinnied so hard, my voice turned hoarse.

"Ahhh yes, Bolin, I'm cumming, gonna fill you up, boy, ahh fuck, fuuck, so fucking tight, bull, love fucking your ass...fuuuuuuck!" He lowed in response, still shaking as he sprayed his final shots again the wall. I couldn't even thrust inside him anymore; my flare was too swollen, and his ass gripped me too tightly. I held onto his mountainous form, and made horse noises, and pumped my balls into him. It was a mind-blowing orgasm...

And then I fainted.

Like all the famous Casanovas of old, huh. Wham, bam, unconsciousness.

When I came to, I was lying on the floor with cold water spraying over my lower body. All the hot taps had been turned off. Bolin looked down at me with concern. His cock had softened and shrunk, making his balls look extra big by comparison from my viewpoint. Mine was already back in my sheath. How long had I been out? I wiped water from my face and pushed myself up, then swayed for a moment as my vision fuzzed. "Woooo..." I said carefully.

"You okay?" he asked. He put an arm behind my back to help support me, and I nodded in thanks.

"Yeeeah...I think. Uh, what happened?"

His grin was as amused as it was lascivious. "You fucked me so hard you passed out. I'm really flattered."

"Holy shit." I blinked in disbelief."That's a thing?"

He shrugged. "Maybe not normally. But lots of hot air, exercising hard earlier, lowered blood pressure, then a massive orgasm...I think it was a once off. You did turn on all the hot taps in here. You'll be fine in a few minutes, stud."

I blinked at him. "How do you know all that?"

He smiled. "Studying medicine, remember?"

It was my turn to blush, at last. "Oh, ok. Thanks a lot for helping me...not drown, I guess. Yeah, I -- I thought things would be sexier filled with, um, steam." With his help, I got to my feet. "Did I, uh...did I finish?" I felt pretty embarrassed having to ask that. Stallions always finished. But my dick was stirring at seeing him again, and I couldn't quite remember if I'd climaxed before I passed out.

He nodded and turned, lifting his tail to show me that black pucker. He flexed it, and a squirt of white cream oozed out, congealing in the wet hair. I stared at it with satisfaction. "Don't let this go to your head, now," he said. "but that was the best fuck I've ever had in my life." He rolled his eyes when I did a small fist-pump, and we laughed.

"I had a shit-ton of fun, Bolin," I told him, sidling up and sliding my arms around him. My sheath nestled against his hole, getting smeared with my own cum. "You're fucking hot, and you smell amazing. Pity it's all washed off now."

He gripped my arms and nodded. "Yeah...it happens." Then his head turned to look at me sideways. "But it's pretty easy to get it back..."

I felt myself start to drop again. "Oh yeah?" My fingers slid through his chest hair and tweaked at a nipple. "What are you saying..."

He turned around suddenly and bent down to grab me behind the thighs. I gasped as he lifted me bodily into the air. It's one thing to know that someone is strong, and quite another to have them lift you up like you're made of tissue paper. He kissed my neck, and I felt his re-awakening pole twitching under my ass.

"I'm saying," he said, "you need to work out more if you want to be as big as me -- and if you want to stop fainting in showers after a fuck. Heh." He licked my nose. "And we've got the gym to ourselves all night. And now that you've given me a nice creamy filling...I want to repay the favour."

How could anyone have turned down an offer like that. My rapidly hardening dick said it all, though, before I got a word out. We kissed some more until he broke off with a grunt. "Come on, stud." He lowered me to the ground. "Let's get you jacked, so you can suck on my pits again before I ride that ass. And didn't I threaten to tie you up, too...?"

I whinnied as loudly as I could.

---

"That's really very, uh, explicit, sir," the barman said. The ferret had wide eyes, and had been cleaning the same glass now for probably twenty minutes. At least five other patrons had tried to flag him down, with no success. I knocked back the last drops of my drink. "What happened then...?" he queried, far too hopefully.

"We did some crochet together. What the fuck do you think?" I asked, twirling my bottle on the bar top. Just my luck to get the horny barman the one time I don't need a quick fuck. "Can I get my bill, please?"

When my account was settled -- I really needed to start telling shorter stories or something, it was becoming unreasonably expensive -- I slipped out of my chair and wandered over to the lounge area. Two smooth and shiny horns poked up from a wingback chair. They were clearly polished. I slid my hands along them, making the owner turn in surprise. I flashed a grin at his snow-white face.

"Hello, Mr Bolin. Long time no see. How are you? Keeping musky, I hope? I really, really hope..."