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A cool breeze rustled the evergreen leaves overhead, casting a dancing shadow on the sand. Taking a small mouthful from the glass in his hand, Tristan finished his first cocktail of the day. Sure, it was early, only eleven in the morning, but he was on holiday. Resting in the sand, partially covered by the shadowy cover of the tree, Tristan watched the gentle tossing and turning of the ocean. A shiver ran up the stallion's spine as he imagined just how cold the tender roiling waters were.

The decision to vacation to the beach in the height of winter was a strategic one. The waters were too cold for the stallion to brave, but he never cared too much for swimming. The cold weather rendered the entire beach empty. Only the occasional passer-by crossed the sand. There were no naked infants, loud groups of excited children or old men in unflattering swimwear. Just Tristan, the quiet, empty sands and a jug of mojito. The jug sat on the sand beside his chair, where he had made a little slot for it.

As he reached for the jug, Tristan noticed something off in the distance. The water broke, but not in the way that had been before. It broke around a figure, that burst from the ocean for air. Hesitating, Tristan watched, hoping beyond hope that the figure he saw wasn't drowning. Almost immediately, he sighed in relief. The way the figure moved through the water betrayed no panic, rather a near flawless technique. The swimmer glided through the water with speed and, from what little he could see from this distance, grace.

The water had broken possibly fifty metres or more into the bay. Only a few short moments later, the water broke again within ten metres. The swimmer, no longer able to keep his body hidden beneath the water, waded the last distance. As the body rose from the waves, Tristan got a good look at him. The partial sunlight glistened off the smooth, blue skin, casting shadows between the contours of his stunning musculature.

Warmth spread through Tristan, sending tingles of delight to his brain and a rush of blood to his crotch. The shark wore only a hydrodynamic pair of swim trunks that clung to his form. Without skipping a beat, Tristan leapt from his deck chair and ran to the cabin behind, stepping through the open door and pulling a beach towel from a shelf of them placed there for guests.

Emboldened by his growing arousal, Tristan set off, running through the sand, barefoot, to the shark coming ashore. "Hey!" Tristan called out as he stepped from beneath the veil of shadow. "Look like you could use a towel." The stallion smiled, slowing to a stop a metre from where the sand grew dark with moisture.

"Thanks, man." The shark grinned, nodded and took the towel. "Mine's a little up the beach." Tristan watched as the man towelled himself dry.

Rivulets of sea water ran down his torso, bound to the contours of his well-carved chest. All the paths led down to his trunks. "I'm Tristan." The stallion crooned. "What brings a guy like you to the beach when it's so cold?" The shark rested the towel on his shoulders and shot him a look.

"Shark," he chuckled. "I'm Alan. The real question is why a little pony is here in the middle of winter?" Alan continued drying himself off.

"I like the quiet." The stallion continued his unabashed examination of the male before him, pulling his lip between his teeth. "You're not cold?"

His torso mostly dry, Alan threw the towel over his shoulder and looked the stallion up and down. "I am." The shark's eyes came to rest on the obvious bulge in the stallion's jeans. "Why? You looking to warm me up?" Taking his opportunity, Tristan stepped forward, pressing his chest against the still slightly damp shark. The stallion's grey eyes rose to meet Alan's yellow eyes. The shark did what he could to hide the sharp breath he took when fingers gripped his dick through his trunks.

"I do have a place." Tristan winked. Both of the shark's arms wrapped around the lithe stallion, resting two strong hands on his firm ass. Without a word, the shark leaned down, and their lips met One hand slid into the tight jeans and between the firm cheeks, fumbling blindly for the puckered hole within. With his remaining hand, he moved up the stallion's back, under his shirt.

They broke apart momentarily to allow Tristan's shirt to be pulled up over his head. A groan rolled out of the shark's mouth as the warmth of the newly shirtless torso radiated into him. "There's a rumour I've heard about sharks." Tristan began as he caressed the physique of the man around him. "Do you really have two?" He asked in a whisper.

Before he heard it, Tristan could feel the chuckle rumbling through his chest. "Some do," Alan placed both of his hands on the stallion's ass again. "But trust me," he started as he lifted the stallion up by his rear. Out of habit, the stallion's legs wrapped around the shark's waist. "One will be more than enough for you." Through the fabric, Tristan could feel the growing rigidity of the shark's cock against his ass. Towel and shirt over his shoulder, Alan took long strides toward the cabin.

The shark seemed to carry his weight effortlessly, no grunts or hints of strain. Just a gentle bobbing in the rise-and-fall of an impatient gait. With each step, the stiffened cock beneath his rump pressed against him in a new way, drawing yet more blood to his loins and water to his mouth. After the veil of shadow had fallen over them, the slap of bare feet against wooden decking resounded.

The shark dipped through the open doorway and found himself already standing at the edge of the bed. The firm embrace of Alan's sculpted arms slipped away as Tristan was lowered to the bed. Weakness took him as his eyes fell upon the swimsuit, so tightly wrapped around the erect manhood beneath. Without realising he was doing it, Tristan licked his lips. "There's some lube in the shower, grab it for me?" The stallion said with a wink as he pulled at his jeans.

Nodding, but otherwise remaining silent, Alan moved to the open door of the bathroom and disappeared out of sight. His jeans slid down his slender thighs. Where his tip met fabric, a dark patch of pre-cum had formed. The moment the wet tip of his equine cock tasted the cool air, a voice resonated from the bathroom.

"You took all of this?" Tristan grinned, knowing that, along with the lubricant, he'd left a dildo in the shower from the morning.

"I did," Tristan tossed his underwear at the floor. "Wanna see me use it?" He sat, legs close together, on the edge of the bed and faced the bathroom.

"Maybe later." Alan re-emerged from the bathroom with the bottle of lube, but without his swimsuit. Seeing it out in the open brought a fresh throb and bead of pre-cum to Tristan's cock. From above the heavy pair of orbs, the thick member pointed directly at him, aside from the subtle upward curve of the shaft.ng above a fresh throb and bead of pre-cum to Tristan'

Tristan's eyes were fixed on the manhood as it approached. The subtle aroma of masculine arousal delighted his olfaction; masked by the remaining scent of the ocean. As his nostrils came mere centimetres from the engorged flesh, he breathed deeply. The fragrance poured in through his nose and straight into his soul. While each male's scent was different, dick had a distinctly recognisable bouquet.

Unable to resist the lure of the radiating flesh any longer, Tristan planted a soft kiss on the underside of Alan's tip. A loud grunt escaped the shark's mouth as the whole cock jumped from the lips. With the involuntary movement, a shot of slick pre-cum splashed along Tristan's snout. The stallion licked his lips as it rolled down his muzzle. "I don't think I need any warming up." The standing male grunted.

"You're not going to cum really quick on me, are you?" Tristan teased, wiping the fluid off his nose and licking his finger as he climbed up onto the bed. Alan let out one throaty chuckle.

"No, but you might." He gloated, a confident grin etched into his face. Tristan's eyebrows raised.

"Well, then. How do you want me?"

Strutting around the bed, the naked shark stopped at the base. A cool breeze came through the open door and gently chilled the shark's flesh. "Back it up," The shark cooed, watching as the horse did so. On all fours, Tristan scooted along the sheets until the hot meat of the rigid cock rested against his ass.

One strong hand held his ass in place, the other was absent. The heat of manhood against tailhole caused a rush of air to hiss through Tristan's teeth. There was a subtle pressure against his tailhole; not quite enough to enter him, but enough let his tight ring of muscles begin to stretch.

The cool slickness of the lube kissed the spot where their bodies met. Tossing the bottle to the bed, Alan rubbed his tip in vague rings around the slickening hole. Satisfied with how lubricous it was, he pushed forward. A crooning song of pleasure resounded through the cabin as the rigid manhood separated his still muscles. The walls of his tight hole spread apart and hugged the meat as it descended further still.

As thick and long as the shark's dick had looked, rising from the base of his flat stomach, it felt thicker, longer and hotter still. The familiar sensation of a pair of balls resting against his taint was upon him once more. He felt so unbelievably full. The horse's cock pulsed pre-cum onto the sheets below. Alan gave him a moment to adjust to the sudden presence of several inches of hard flesh, though Tristan didn't need it.

Gripping his waist tightly, Alan pulled back and slammed forward, eliciting another moan from the horse below. Not intent on wasting any time, Alan's stroke found an even rhythm. It wasn't rapid, but it was far from slow. The deep, grunted moans from Alan and the higher, more melodic moans from Tristan resounded in the cabin. Kept in rhythm by the percussive slapping of flesh on flesh.

Every moment he was inside him set the stallion's body aflame with sensation. The dildo had been bigger, sure enough, but there was something unique to being filled with genuine flesh. The heat that came off his body, the pleasured sounds he made and, most importantly the unpredictability of a partner.

Pre-cum smeared the sheets where Tristan's rigid cock made contact. With fists full of bed linen, Tristan felt his body tremble. A shudder in muscle and in voice. The bed itself caught his moan. The spear of vigour and ardour within him touched every perfect spot. The touches were fleeting. Just enough to send a wave of pleasure through his body. Yet short enough to have his mind craving more.

It didn't take long for the tremble to fade and for the craving to grow unbearable. His fists opened and pushed down. Trying his best to match his partner's rhythm, Tristan pushed back. A stroke sucked the breath out of him. It was the deepest the shark's dick had gone yet. A word crooned from Tristan's mouth, stolen and silenced by the bed.

"What?" He growled, voice thick with lust and broken by deep moans. Tristan pulled his face from the bed and let the moan stream from his mouth.

"Fuck," the word was long and drawn out. The shark's heavy balls slapped against him with each stroke.

"So eager." Alan's voice was low and layered in tones of lascivious amusement.

Without warning, Alan pulled out. Tristan's eager ass slammed back, but his wet hole slapped against the underside of the shaft. The emptiness was keenly felt. Even as Alan pushed his hand against his rump, urging him forward, his body cried out to be filled once more.

Tristan scooted forward on the bed, abandoning the puddle of pre-cum he'd made. The mattress dipped slightly as Alan climbed onto it.

"Ass up," Alan's smooth voice came. Tristan had to obey. "That's it." The shark's feet were on either side of the horse's own.

The heat and steadfast temper of the shark's cock was between his cheeks once more. It rested between two firm cheeks, like a hotdog in a bun. A few moments passed in an eternity. The manhood drew back, leaving a trail of precum and residual lube between his cheeks. The tip met the puckered hole and it opened under the pressure. Like a ravenous maw, his anus accepted the intrusion; desperate for every ounce of the serving Alan had for him.

The sensation of being filled again sucked his breath away and before he could draw it back, Alan began. The angle pushed him deeper. Before Tristan could even begin to process the wave of passion each thrust sent through him, Alan had pulled half out and was taking another thrust.

Their union made frantic music. Tristan's stammered moan, quavering around each thrust; Alan's half-grunt moans; the slapping of flesh against flesh like a marcher's snare. Hands held him about the waist. The grip was rough and bestial. Where their union prior to that may have been called sex, what they did after Alan mounted him could only be called mating.

He was being used, and the thought alone gave his cock a jolt. It was all he could do to not allow his mouth to droop and his eyes to roll. The sheer pleasure of it turned his shoulders and knees to jelly. The stallion's firm, full ass was being held up more by the shark's grip than his own legs.

Words attempted to collect themselves on his tongue, but they all blended together in a moan. When, at last, he remembered how to form words, only two came crooning from his drooping mouth. "Breed me." The shark hilted in him and leaned over his back. One hand slipped from his waist and fondled at his hard, dripping cock.

"I don't cum till you do," a strong finger probed at the equine's sodden tip. Tristan's tip throbbed against the strong fingers as they came away.

With a jolt, Alan resumed the assault on his partner's rump. As Tristan was held down by the weight and force of the man above him, a familiar pressure built within him. It was a queer sort of pressure and one that could be experienced no other way. Each time the thick shark cock made its circuit from just behind the tip to the base of the shaft, it struck him exactly where it needed to.

Tristan cried out into his bed as his fists pulled at the sheets. The sensation built and crept, from that place hidden beneath his taint, up along his shaft. A tingling pressure started teasing at his tip. The invading dick hit his prostate and continued into the depths of his welcoming hole. "Right there," Tristan managed. With a pulse, the stallion's manhood lurched up with a smack, smearing the flat belly with slick pre-cum. "I'm close," he choked out between two moans. Alan doubled down, slamming into Tristan's firm ass with a fervour and ferocity unlike anything the stallion had ever experienced.

"Shit," the word hissed through Tristan's teeth as he looked over his shoulder. Alan's face was twisted in a determined, animalistic snarl. Accompanying the smacking of their fevered mating was the softer pap of dick on belly. It was growing more frequent, heralding the end. Where once the pressure built within him and slowly spread, it now emphatically seized and threatened to overwhelm.

The fires of passion sat so close that Tristan could feel the heat and glow washing over him. Yet it was just too far. Desperation filled him. Every fibre of his being told him that he needed release. Immediate release. The thrusting brought him to the edge, but on the edge, he stayed. If pre-cum had leaked from him before, now it flowed.

His cock was right there. He could feel it against his belly. It would be the easiest thing in the world to reach back and break the floodgates. Before the will could reach his hands, it hit him. His knees trembled, thigh muscles tightened, and his mouth opened. "Fuck," the word was stretched out in a long, loud moan.

The tip of the equine's cock flared as it throbbed against his stomach. The first rope shot forth and struck him in the chin. His fists tightened, pulling up more of the sheets as his second, third, fourth and fifth shots of cum erupted from him. During Tristan's orgasm, Alan didn't so much as slow him assault.

Thick, hot cum glazed the bottom's chest, stomach and the linen beneath them. With each throb of his cock, the muscles that gripped Alan's cock convulsed. Tristan could feel every pulse. His body tried to pull the cock in, hold it in and milk it for everything it could give. Surely the shark couldn't endure long through the tightening hole.

The remainder of Tristan's seed dribbled from his cock in heavy drops. As the throes of orgasm began to fade, Alan slammed all of his manhood into the pulsing hole. His thrusts grew shorter, further apart. The noises that came from the shark's mouth became less grunts and more into moans.

Before he could tell him, Tristan felt it. The throbbing within him was palpable. Even through the waning pangs of his own pleasure, he was keenly aware each pulse of the thick manhood within him. Rich seed filled the deepest recesses of his ass, he was certain. Warmth spread though him. Emanating from the point within where the dick shot.

"Fuck," Alan sighed as he unloaded rope after rope of viscous cum into the weak-limbed stallion beneath him. Emptiness returned to Tristan's ass. Unlike earlier, it wasn't an emptiness he craved to refill. It was the mark of a satisfying filling. The puckered muscles of his anus closed tight as the wet, spent cock slipped free. A large drop of seed flowed from the loosened hole.

Alan dismounted his stallion, held his cheeks apart and licked the drop of his own cum before it could reach Tristan's empty balls. "Shit," Alan laughed as he slid into a dry part of the bed, beside his cum-filled lover. "We should've put a towel down." Tristan chuckled softly and rolled onto his side, pressing his body against the muscular shark's own.

"Housekeeping will be by around twelve." Tristan pulled his partner's arm around him and snuggled right up against the firm flesh of his stomach. "Alan, do you like mojitos?"