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"Come on, you fuckers...do any of you even know how to catch a ball...?"

A handful of popcorn kernels hit the television, followed by a snort of derision. Their origin was a middle-aged stallion, splayed across the couch in front of the screen., a blanket over his lap and a bowl of popcorn on top of that. He was shaking his head at the dismal showing his team was making, muttering to himself as he did. "Could swap half of you out with fuckin' potatoes and get a better result, I swear..." he groused. He leaned to one side to stick a hand under himself and scratch his ass, then settled in again, pulling the blanket on his lap a little higher in the chilly evening. Underneath the fabric, one could make out thick, muscled legs. He was a pale horse who clearly didn't enjoy the cold. His thin, light cream body hair and short-cropped ivory mane probably didn't help him retain heat.

"No! NO! Catch it, asshole!" he yelled again at the television, throwing his powerful arms into the air in disbelief. "Shit, Nate," he said to himself, "you picked a real winner this seas--what are you doing , bullboy?" His screech of disbelief was accompanied by another kernel flying through the air and bouncing off the face of a bull on the screen. "_You have fingers, don't you, La Monta? Or are those five fat sausages on your hands just for fumbling _every single play with?" His face was thunderous, but the lowered brow and intense stare only accentuated his looks. With his short-cropped mane, hazel eyes and powerful body, he looked like the linebacker every girl wanted to date.

There was a squeak-and-clang sound in the atrium around the corner, as someone came in through the screen door. "Hey, son," Nate called out through a mouthful of popcorn bits, eyes not breaking from the television. "How was work? You won't believe the shit they're pulling in the game tonight. Come check out what La Monta's doing."

Another stallion clumped into the living room, a leather jacket slung over one shoulder and a rucksack in the other hand. One glance at his face would tell you that he was related to Nate, and if that didn't, his equally pale colouring would seal the deal: eggshell all over, down to the long mane that hung over his shoulders and back. His tall, toned body -- a touch over six feet, with muscles outlined against his clothing -- was slumped into itself a little. He slouched towards the couch, letting the rucksack fall to the floor on the way and tossing the leather jacket over the back of a nearby chair.

He flopped down into the cushions next to his father, the ancient sofa moulding to his lean shape. They made an odd-looking pair: two white stallions, one carrying hard-earned bulk, and the other with a more crafted, David-esque figure. "Hey, Dad," he said listlessly. One hand pulled a pillow out from under him and dropped it into his lap. "Work was fine. I guess." His tone didn't match his words, and his hands met on top of the pillow, fingers fiddling absently with hooftips. They looked like two white doves nestling into the dark leather.

Nate finished his mouthful of popcorn, looking across at his son. "Fine?" he asked. "Then why do you sound like someone stole your cock and replaced it with a ramen noodle?" He offered the bowl of popcorn to his son, who sighed and took a single kernel, popping it into his mouth and chewing slowly. His head dropped back and he stared up at the ceiling.

"It was fine. It...ugh. It was nothing." He lifted a hand, fingers spread, as if trying to grab an explanation from thin air, then let it flop back into his lap. "It was nothing," he repeated. "Forget it."

There was a static whine that climbed beyond hearing as the ancient television flicked off. Nate tossed the remote aside, turning to face his son with a thoughtful expression and tugging his lap-blanket a little higher again. "Spit it out, Mason," he said simply. "It obviously wasn't fine. What happened? Is Barry taking your tips again? I fuckin' told him--"

Mason shook his head. "Nah, Dad. Barry's cool now." He nickered, eyes flickering between his father's face and the ground. "It's nothing. It's stupid." When his father's close look didn't falter, he rolled his eyes. "Okay. So, like, I've been doing a different end to my dance this week, and...most people like it a lot, buuuut..." He whisked a few hairs of his mane out of his face, and his ears flicked about nervously. "One guy said I didn't dance well. And it made me feel bad." He shrugged awkwardly, and there was a moment of silence.

And then a popcorn kernel bounced off his nose.

"Hey!" The younger stallion wiped the spot of butter off his nose and picked up the flake. "Is that you agreeing with him?"

Nate snorted. "'course not, dumbass. But this is a teachable moment. Watch me father the shit out of this." He coughed, then put a hand on the couch and leaned forward, bringing his face close to his son. "Mason. Son. You dance really well. As you said, most people liked it, right? So. Don't let the word of one guy make you feel bad. You've got talent, son." His eyes flicked down to Mason's crotch, and a caprine leer spread over his face. "A very big talent..." Mason blushed, flicking the popcorn flake back at his father and catching him right above the eye. Nate ignored it.

"Yeah, well, you have to say that, Dad," the young stallion said, adjusting the cushion on his lap. His eyes slid up and down his father's body, sliding away with a twinkle when their eyes met.

"No, I don't!" The older stallion put on a shocked expression. "I would never prop up your ego with lies! If you sucked, I'd make sure you knew it. But you don't. So, it's fine." He settled back into his original position and took some more popcorn. "So, don't feel bad, alright? Dad says so, and Dad loves you. That's all that matters."

Mason laughed, shaking his head."Gee, thanks, pops. That's fixed everything." But he had a smile on his face, and he was sitting up a little taller. He rubbed his mane with one hand. "I kinda knew that and all, but it's just tricky whenever I make a change and the first feedback is negative, you know?"

His father nodded, crunching kernels. "This your usual dance?" he asked. "Or something new?"

Mason nodded. "Yeah, normal one. Mostly. I just changed the end up. I got...inspired." He looked at his father with a coy smile. "You wanna know what it is?"

"Different end, huh?" Nate looked thoughtful. "I don't really remember the whole routine. So, I can't really say how well the change works." He spat out an unpopped kernel. "So...how about you show me how it all goes -- with the new ending -- and then I can tell you with total confidence how much shit that guy was talking." He nickered. "Seriously, what sort of dumb fuck doesn't like your dancing, son?"

Mason grinned, looking over at his father with one raised eyebrow. "Do the dance for you now?"

"Yep!" The horse wiped his hands clean and put the popcorn bowl aside. "Those uncoordinated assholes on the television aren't putting on a good show. Might as well get one from you." He waggled his eyebrows and smirked, and his son's grin widened. His eyes flicked down to the blanket covering his father's lap, and the tip of his tongue wet his lips. He stood up, tossing the cushion at his father's face and putting his hands on his sides, striking a pose.

"Alright, old horse, but don't get all distracted, alright? This is work. You're meant to be giving feedback."

Nate caught the cushion and hugged it to his chest, nodding, the smirk glued to him. "You know me, son. So very full of hot, musky...feedback." The horses exchanged silent, knowing looks until Mason broke, giggling and looked away.

"Fucking horndog." But he stepped out into the middle of the room and thought for a second, then picked up his rucksack. "I just need to get changed."

"Do it here," Nate said instantly, tossing the pillow aside. He was smiling broadly, and Mason nickered at his words.

"But daddy..." There was a teasing tone to Mason's voice. "You'll see me naked..." His hands dipped into the rucksack and pulled out some clothes. A jockstrap, and assless chaps with velcro down the legs.

Nate whinnied and clopped a hoof on the floor in approval as Nate turned away from him to undress. When his jeans fell, and his ass was revealed, his father gave a wolf-whistle, and the younger stallion snorted. A hand came around to give his father the middle finger. "Fuck off."

"You asking me to ride that, buddy?" Nate asked with a chuckle. "Come on. You know I only top, son. Maybe your brain forgot, but I bet your ass didn't." He took in the sight of his son's pert, luscious butt, and one of his hands slid lower, under the blanket covering his lap. "That marvellous ass..." he murmured, already distracted.

In a few more moments, his son was done getting changed. He turned back, shirtless, and leaned across to grab his leather jacket while he stuck a tongue out at his father. "No part of me forgot, daddy," he said with a faux lustful tone, licking a finger and touching his ass with a hissed breath. As his father's grin broadened, the younger stallion pulled his jacket on and looked thoughtfully at the space he had to work in. "Alright. So...just imagine the music..."

He turned his back to his father again, lifting his arms into the air and bobbing his hips slightly to some unheard beat. "...two...three..." came a soft count, and his tail whisked to the left as one arm came down to point right. The tail then whisked to the other side, matching the fall of the second arm, and finally dropped down to hang in the middle, before flicking up high, showing off Mason's ass and doughnut. The arms remained steady, and the hips swung, dragging the buns through the air; they were dusted with golden down, like beautiful honeyed cakes. All eyes were obliged to follow the motion, drinking in every pert curve and inviting cleft, and Nate was no exception.

He couldn't get enough of his son's body. Mason looked ten times better than he had at that age. He might not have the raw strength of his father, but he made up for it in pure classical handsomeness. He worked out like a champion, didn't eat badly, and had enough creams and ointments in the bathroom to grease an elephant's slip-n-slide. Most of them sounded and smelled the same, and Nate was pretty sure half of them did nothing, but in total? It worked. Oh, fuck, did it ever work. His skin was supple and without a single blemish; he kept his mane and tail well-brushed and conditioned; his hooves shone black as night from the oil he polished them with. And when he spun around, arms following through to point directly towards his father, the poise and control in his motions was a thing of beauty.

The leather jacket did a good job of hiding the details of his upper body, but Nate had seen it so often that he could practically see right through the fabric. As his son gyrated and swept a hand across his chest, teasing the outline of his pecs with a finger, his father mentally undressed him. Get rid of the jacket first, to see those broad shoulders and thick upper arms. Oh yeah. God, he loved having those wrapped around him; nuzzling into the muscle as it flexed in pleasure and delight, and smelling the warm horse scent of his underarms.

Then there was the chest between them, and the fat nipples it carried on top of the sheet-metal muscles. He was so jealous of those nipples. His own were nothing like that, so who knew where Mason had inherited them from: big, red, juicy points that got as stiff as his dick. At least his son was more than eager to share them with his dad. He liked to wake him up like that sometimes: sliding under the blankets to lick the crimson nubs to hardness, then biting them ever so gently until Mason awoke with a gasp, an arched back, and a flagging tail.

The chest was well-tanned as well as hard-muscled; Mason didn't half-ass it. And not a fake tan, either: he found a way to be naked in the garden two or three days a week, soaking up the rays. It was extremely distracting whenever Nate was doing his gardening. Who knew how many times the neighbours had seen the two of them writhing on the lawn by now, intertwined like snakes. A line of golden hair ran right down the middle of that chest, turning pale as it continued over the abs, and darkening back to gold when it merged with the top of his wrinkled sheath.

Below the chest was a long stretch of ridged abs, rigorously maintained by Mason and jealously coveted by Nate. He hadn't had abs like that for a decade. In fact, he didn't even call them abs anymore: not since Mason taught him the term "cum gutters". His sexy son had been rubbing up against him, naked, when he mentioned it; Nate would never forget that night. He'd been so turned on by the idea, he'd pushed Mason to the floor, put a hoof on his crotch -- not too roughly, simply with enough pressure to feel how hard his son was -- and jerked off above him while his beautiful colt looked up at him with eager eyes and whispered encouragements. His cum had splattered all across that beautiful chest, and oozed right down the middle of the bulging abs, exactly as promised. He'd watched his seed soaking his son's golden-white treasure trail, holding his member as the final drops oozed out of him; Mason had cum, hands-free, purely from the sight of his father's dripping cock held over him. What a good colt he was.

Above that godlike body was his perfect, gorgeous face. Boyish yet at twenty-four, the lines of Mason's smooth, symmetric face arched back and up, meeting at his temple, where the hairs of his snow-coloured mane hung down. He dyed the ends black, presenting a unique look, as if a torc of obsidian was hanging about his neck. His long, feminine eyelashes gave his eyes a sensitive quality that lured one in with the promise of erotic secrets to be revealed, and the tip of his nose was a pinkish tone that begged for a kiss. Apart from that, and the dyed tips of his mane, he seemed white all over.

But Nate knew that didn't extend to his son's sheath. Or his dick.

"You paying attention, there, Dad?" his son asked teasingly. He'd discarded the leather jacket at some point in the last few minutes of dancing, and was facing his father with his arms held high, wrists crossed, as if tied to an invisible restraint suspended from the ceiling. Golden hair with just a hint of sweat on it glimmered in his armpits. His chest was a playground of strength: his muscles bunched and pulled as he gyrated his lower half in a wide circle, keeping his arms impressively still. His pants were very tight. It was hard to look away. It was hard in general.

"Yeah," Nate lied, gruffly. "Paying a whole lot. So many notes. I'll tell you later." He eyed the bulge at his son's crotch greedily whenever it was thrust towards him. The front of his pants was zipped shut, and the metal teeth stood proud, like the final stand of the leather army. Those teeth were the only thing standing between him and the monster that slumbered beneath, he knew.

The stallion cock he'd made.

"That's good," Mason said with a winning smile that doubtless earned him a lot of extra tips at the club. He was so fucking hot when he smiled. The way he looked at Nate made the old horse feel like he was the only other stallion in the world. His son blew a little kiss towards him. "So, you're scribbling notes under that blanket then, right?"

Nate's hand was rubbing his cock really fast by now, making the blanket move about. He hadn't even realised, lost in the adoration of his handsome stallion son, and he chuckled. "Just...conferring with my associate."

"Ooooh...an associate." Arms still raised, his son lowered himself, ass-cheeks pressing down past the leather and bulge managing to expand even more. The teeth were holding on for dear life now. He stopped at the height a horse's cock might be at, if one lay under him, and bobbed up and down. His head flicked left and right, every few seconds, making his mane fly about. "Does he have a lot of experience judging stripping?"

"Oh yeah. He's been behind some of the hottest strippers ever." He pressed his cock up against the blanket to show the fat outline to his son. "And inside a bunch of them, too."

"That so? Would I know any of them?" Mason stopped grinding, simultaneously standing up straight -- propelled by legs like pistons -- and dropping his head to his chest, and his arms to his crotch, crossing his wrists. He was still for a few seconds, gathering his breath, then pulled upwards, his fingers stroking slowly over his bulge as they rose, then hooking at the sides of his jacket and throwing his arms backwards, sending the leather flying off of him in a well-practised move. Even though he'd been expecting it, Nate felt his breath shudder as that flawless, studly stallion body was exposed. Holy fuck but his son was a gorgeous hunk of horseflesh. The older stallion felt a heady mixture of feelings building. Intense pride that he'd made and raised this incredible male. A little jealousy at how perfect Mason's body was, and how beautiful he looked. And -- mostly -- a shit-ton of lust. He wanted to rub his hands all over his colt, to stroke him and kiss him and lick him. To hear him gasp and whimper and call him daddy. To fuck him hard, and feel the heat of his body, and make him scream in pleasure.

"I'm sure you would," his father replied. He cleared his throat when he heard how husky he sounded. It didn't help. "There's...Ranger...who fires an arrow as deep as it'll go..." He coughed again. His cock was so fucking hard, and he couldn't talk properly. His son's dancing was like a visual aphrodisiac and a verbal sedative all in one.

Mason tucked his thumbs into his pants, gyrating lasciviously. "Yeah? And who else?"

Nate was sweating now. The room felt like it had warmed up a lot. He pulled the blanket off his lap and tugged his pants down to his ankles, letting his hard, pink cock out with a groan of relief. As one hand stroked up and down the length, the other gripped his large balls, rolling them around. They were full and ready. They'd get their chance. Mason's eyes lit up when his dad's cock flopped out, and his mouth hung open a little as he gyrated, the tip of his wet tongue poking out, looking at it lustfully.

"Who else, Dad?"

"There's, uh..." Nate couldn't focus properly. Mason was pulling his pants lower now, showing the merest hint of his sheath. Thinking was hard. His cock was screaming at him. He needed to fuck. "There's also...um..." He gave up on the story. "There's Diamondback, with the sexy body and the needy hole who's gonna get fucked raw if he keeps teasing his dad like this." Mason's ears flickered about at the threat, and a little shiver ran through him. "Show me the new ending, son," Nate said heavily. "Don't make your horny dad wait any longer."

Mason slowly shook his head. "Nah." He untucked his fingers and took hold of his zipper's pull tab. With agonising slowness, he dragged it down, making his father whinny as dark flesh was revealed. The cock bulged out as much as it could -- fat and tumescent -- through the too-small opening. Just another tease. "Don't care about that ending now." He reached for the button at the top of the pants. "I wanna do one just for you, Dad. A Diamondback special for my hunky daddy."

Nate remembered the day they'd thought up that name. Cuddling in bed after a fuck to celebrate Mason's new job, he'd whispered ideas until they hit on that one. Diamondback the Colt. Because he's got a big pistol in that holster.

The fingers twisted, and the pants popped open. Mason's rattlesnake burst out, flopping down the front of his chaps so heavily that it almost seemed it should make a thud. Nate groaned, stroking his cock faster. With the big reveal done, Mason shucked out of his pants the rest of the way, stepping out of the pools of leather and moving towards his father. He took extra-wide steps, making his dick swing left and right, massive and dark. Nate couldn't take his eyes off of it. The inky member was stunning against his son's ivory hair. Instantly memorable, completely unforgettable.

As his son got closer, he knelt down, sliding forward on his knees. His body leaned down more, and his face grew a smirk. His tongue was reaching out...and then he vanished from Nate's sight. Nickering, the older stallion pulled his hands away from his genitals and waited. He was shaking with anticipation. Mason knew. Mason knew what his dad liked...

His son's soft, wet tongue slapped against the very bottom of his scrotum, sliding smoothly up, along the middle of the hairless skin of his ball sack, between the magnificent balls to either side and ending at the base of his straining cock.

Nate's head fell back and he shuddered in delight. "Ah, shit..." he gasped, "Yeah, son...lick daddy's balls, Mason...you like that, huh...you like daddy's fat colt-makers..." He hands gripped the couch, and he spread his legs further to give his son as much space as possible to worship his balls.

A moan rose from between his legs. The tongue slid down again, then across, then under, trying to taste everything. "I love your balls, Dad," came his son's partly muffled reply, his mouth exploring the ball sack and the large testicles within. "They're so fucking big...and they taste so fucking good...hrrmmmm..." His nose pushed under the orbs, lifting them up to feel their heft. "Big fat delicious daddy nuts," he huffed, letting them drop and snuffling across them greedily, smelling and licking them simultaneously. "You've got such pretty balls, Dad," the stud stallion moaned, in between wide, eager licks. "I bet you play with them all the time..."

It was a little game they had: it turned Nate on to say it, and it turned Mason on even more to hear it. The elder stallion snorted and reached a hand out to stroke his son's mane as he spoke. "Yeah, I do, Mason. I love to feel 'em. When I walk around, I let those big heavy nuts hang down and swing between my legs. I like to feel 'em slapping against my thighs. And if I'm sitting, I'll play with 'em, just casually, you know. Pull on 'em a bit. Take 'em in my hand, roll them back and forth to feel how full they are. They're always full of stallion spunk, colt. Your daddy's a real breeder." Mason was moaning loudly, hot breaths blowing against Nate's scrotum as his father talked. He stopped licking to open his mouth and suck one of the firm orbs into it. Nate felt warmth and wetness engulf his testicle and groaned in happiness. "Ah, shit...good colt, Mason...suckle on daddy's producers...fuck yeah...your dad likes his stud son sucking on his nuts...he likes it when you service him...likes it so fucking much..."

He stroked up and down his son's mane as the ball-sucking continued. "I like to use 'em, too, Mason," he carried on saying. "You know that from personal experience, huh? Like to make them work for me. Pump someone full of my thick stallion milk. Your dad's always horny and ready to fuck, son. You like how his nuts taste, huh?" A moan of agreement; one spit-soaked ball fell from Mason's mouth and was replaced with the other. "You came from there, you know," Nate observed. "I jizzed you right out of those balls you're busy guzzling. Little Mason fought his way to the front of the line, just to grow up big and strong and get another chance to taste his daddy's cum-carriers. Such a horny little stallion you are. Such a good colt for daddy." A much louder moan; Nate chuckled. The hand resting on his son's head took hold of a handful of mane and pushed downwards; Mason happily allowed his nose to be pushed deeper into his father's musky crotch, extending his tongue's work to the sheath as well. "I like you horny, son. When you're horny, I'm horny." He let his son service him for a little while; only the soft, snorting sounds of filial pleasure disturbed the silence of the house. "If you like daddy balls, son," he mused, "I bet you'll like daddy cum even more, won't you, stud?"

Mason released the second ball and gasped for breath, pressing his nose against them repeatedly. "Yes, Dad, so much. Oh, I want your cum, daddy...I need it." His hands slid up his father's thighs, meeting at his cock and squeezing the base. "I want a nice thick stallion-sized load from these beautiful balls, daddy, your balls...the balls that made me..." He whined like a dog in heat. "Oh, Dad," he said, still nuzzling against his father's balls as his hands stroked his dick, "I'm so fucking hard, you turn me on so much...you're so fucking beautiful, Dad...and you fuck like a stallion...the best stallion, the only stallion for me, Dad..."

Nate snorted in lust at his son's carnal begging and the expert attention being bestowed on his cock. The hot little fuck knew exactly what turned him on the most. "Where do you like it best, son?" he asked. "Tell your dad where you most like his cock today. Down your greedy mouth, or up your horny asshole? Do you wanna choke on a nice thick load, or feel me breed your hole?"

Mason was panting, his shoulders rising and falling like huge breakers. He finally left Nate's heavy balls, only to move up and lick the thick stallion shaft instead. "I don't wanna choose, dad..." he begged, his talented tongue slipping around his father's pink shaft like a grasping limb. "I want you everywhere, in every hole, fucking me forever..." He raised his body to bring his head level with Nate's dick, and took half his flare into a loose-lipped mouth, sliding over it noisily and licking up the pre-cum. "Only a father knows how to properly fuck a son, Dad," he said, briefly breaking his attentions. "Nobody's got a dick like you, Dad, and your dick belongs to me." His hands tightened on the shaft. "And in me."

"Fucking right," Nate said. He felt so fucking good. "Nobody can fuck you like I can, son. Nobody else can breed your hole like you deserve, for being the sexy daddy-whore you are." He slid a hand along his son's face; it was becoming sweaty from their exertions. "Are you daddy's whore, son?"

"Yes, fuckdaddy," Mason said obediently. It turned Nate on so much to hear his handsome, masculine son call him that. "I'm your sexy whore son, ready to be fucked. I need a breeding from my dad every day to make me grow up big and strong."

"And look how big and strong you are, huh?" Nate said. "Why don't you say thank you to daddy for making sure you grew into such a fit, muscular, horny stud." So fucking fit. Shit, he needed to fuck Mason really soon. He hadn't been this over-the-top horny in a while, and the teasing was driving him crazy. Just a little more, then...

He pointed at the pole of flesh that separated them. "Say thank you to my dick for making you."

Mason grinned and leaned upright, still on his knees. "Yes, Dad." Nate pushed his cock forward, and Mason leaned in and swallowed the flare in a single, smooth gulp. It was no deep-throating, but that was overrated in Nate's opinion; he much preferred to feel the tongue and mouth working over the flare. And Mason was an expert in what his father liked to feel.

Nate put a hand behind his head as the blowjob continued, propping his head up just enough to be able to see his son's face as his colt pleasured him. The snow-white stud's head dipped and turned and rose again, covering every part of his father's flare, plus an inch or two below. When Nate looked to the side, he could see his son's own cock jutting upward from between his legs, stiff as a board. He hadn't touched it the entire time. It was the same size as Nate's own, although it looked larger on his son's leaner, more muscled frame. The pearl of pre-cum glistening at the tip of the dark shaft was almost delicious enough to make Nate want to grab it and lick it off there and then, but he'd get his chance soon enough.

"Give your dad's cock a proper cleaning there, son," he instructed, eyes closing as the scene played out. "I want it nice and slick when it ploughs into that sweet hole you've got."

Mason nickered, pulling himself off the cock only long enough to make a slutty face at his father. "You need to breed me hard, daddy...I'm really needy tonight." His hands massaged Nate's flare while his mouth wasn't sucking. "It was so hot dancing for you. I should do it more." He giggled. "Private shows for my Dad...I'm such a naughty colt." He licked once along the corona of Nate's cock, making the older stallion groan. "Or is that a sexy colt, Dad?" He returned to the flare with single-minded focus, making Nate's hands curl up from the intense pleasure.

"Doesn't matter," the older stallion gasped. His thoughts were short-circuiting; all the current was flowing into his dick. "Naughty colts, sexy colts, needy colts...they all get properly fucked by their dad."

"Yes, Dad." Mason's voice was deep and husky. He sounded like sex incarnate. "They get fucked because they want it. They want you, you fucking gorgeous stud."

Two strong hands pressed against his chest, and he opened his eyes to find Mason's face right before him. There was only lust painted across it. His son was shuffling onto the couch, his knees sliding to either side of Nate's legs, and he was almost breathless. His erect cock bounced and slapped against his abs as he moved closer. "I can't wait any more, Dad," he begged. "My asshole is crying for you. It can't remember how your dick feels. Fuck me now, daddy! Breed my horny hole and make sure it never forgets again."

Nate didn't need to wait. He knew his son always got lubed up before work, in case a patron caught his eye. With his son straddling his lap, and his prick standing up between them - pressed against his son's own cock, like a twin - they had all they needed. Nate nodded, and Mason rose up on his knees. His asshole sat at the perfect height. Nate took his dick in one hand, pressing it under his son's ass and letting him shift to position his hole above it. Then, with a wide grin, Mason began to lower himself.

"Ahhhhhh...fuuuuuck yesss..." his son groaned in his sex-hungry voice. Nate didn't bother speaking; he simply let out a long breath as he felt his flare squeezed tighter and tighter by the ring of his son's anus, before popping into him with a suddenness that made him grunt, and Mason whinny. "Yes, Dad, yes" he muttered, "Oh, fuck I needed this, you're so thick, it feels so good, Dad...I fucking love your cock...get that fucking beast inside me, I need it, I want it..." He let his body weight drive him down, pushing the long, warm inches of his father's horse cock ever deeper into his body.

Nate loved the intensity of the sensations of his cock spearing into the young stud's body. He let his head drop forward against his son's body, hands resting on the sweep of his Apollo's belt, focusing on the incredible feeling of sliding into his handsome colt. In contrast to his father's silence, Mason was groaning and gasping and hurling invective at every inch of dick that penetrated him. Nate loved to hear how his son sounded when he first slid in; it reminded him that it was his own cock making his beloved son feel so good. He could hardly believe his luck. They were so perfect for one another.

Mason continued his noisy, horny voyage down Nate's dick. The older stallion grunted when the medial ring pushed through, but that was all. Nate made more than enough noise for both of them. And when his ass settled against his father's crotch, he raised his head and give voice to a guttural cry of pleasure as if screaming from a mountaintop.

"FUUUUuuuck! I've missed your thick fat sexy dick so fucking much, Dad...never this long agai--" Nate interrupted him, reaching forward to grab the back of his son's neck and pulling his face toward him for a deep and sensual kiss. As Nate's arms slid around his father's sides and back in blissful surrender, the horses opened their mouths to one another, lips spreading and tongues mingling. Each savoured the other, their tastes well-known to one another. There was the hint of the mouthwash Mason used before his shows, and a touch of garlic; he must have bought one of his favourite kebabs on the way home. There was a mintiness from the gum he chewed while driving, and the very personal taste of his spit. All the flavours that made his son, his son.

Mason was a noisy kisser, which Nate loved. The wet grunts and soft whinnies his son made while his tongue dug into his father's mouth was the leitmotif of their filthy rutting. He squeezed Mason's sides, feeling the muscles flex as his son squirmed and turned on his cock. He pushed up with his hips, feeling an instant hot breath blow out of Mason. "Ohhh...fuckdaddy..." his son moaned. "Do it again. Push that big dick in deeper." Nate did, and his son's arms tightened around him, pulling him closer for a rougher kiss. The older stallion kept up the thrusts, every few seconds. Every time he thrust in, so did Mason's tongue. It dug deep into him, a miniature re-enactment of the massive horse cock ploughing into the needy hole below.

When Nate paused for a few seconds, Mason gave his father a farewell nip on the bottom lip and broke off the kiss. He flicked his head back to throw his long mane out of his eyes; it settled around his shoulders like a broken halo. The eyes that met Nate's shone with lust and love. "Someone getting old, hm, greymane?" he asked cheekily, one hand stroking softly along his father's temple and down his face, teasing at the grey hairs. "I remember the days you could fuck me five times in a row without stopping. I missed work for two days once." He chuckled. "I told them I fell, in case they wondered why I was walking funny."

Nate put a hand on top of his son's, linking their fingers and bringing it around to kiss the back of it tenderly. "The only thing old here are your jokes, you naughty little fuck," he said with a smile. He thrust up again, to make a point, making Mason's fingers tighten against his father's and another moan drift out of him. "I'll never be too old to give your ass a good hard fucking, son. Keeping you on the straight and narrow."

Mason giggled, taking a glob of pre-cum from the tip of his cock and feeding it to his father. "There's nothing straight about this, dad," he pointed out. Then his smirk broadened. "And there's nothing narrow about that gorgeous fuckstick inside me." He took his hands off Nate's sides and took one of his father's nipples in each instead, speaking slowly and twisting them a little on each word. "So...why don't you prove you're not past your prime and paint my insides with hot muscle daddy seed?"

Nate put his finger to his lips in a thoughtful pose. "Hmm...well, since you asked so nicely..." His hands slammed down onto his son's broad shoulders as he slid down a little into the couch, then thrust up as hard as he could. Mason screamed in joy, sticking his hands under his father's thighs and pulling up on them, trying to force as much cock into him as he could. "Yes, Dad...fuck that's good...harder, you sexy hunk, fuck me harder! I fucking love you, you rough nasty beautiful fucking stallion!"

Nate snarled and started pumping as hard as he could, his strong body using every fibre of hard-earned muscle it had to turn his son into a mare. Mason was a gorgeous stallion, but he didn't have his dad's raw strength; his muscled handsomeness -- now painted with a sweaty patina -- bounced up and down as his buff father forced his way in and out with hips and legs and arms. The well-lubed ass made squelching noises every time the broad horsedick forced its way in, and its owner snorted and whinnied as his father's cock spread him wide. "Fuck me, Dad!" was his repeated cry, and Nate did, gladly. "I wanna feel all that raw stallion cock inside me!" he yelled, and Nate did his best. He was better off in the thickness department than length, but that was all relative for a horse. His son had certainly never complained -- until he pulled out, at least.

As the stallions' horny breeding continued, Mason's arms lifted above his head, crossing at the wrists as they had during his dance. His armpits were filled with the same thick, golden hair that ran down the middle of his chest and dusted his ass. His beautiful, lean body rose and fell to the rhythm of the fuck. "I've been a naughty colt, Dad," he groaned, drawing a breath that shuddered with pleasure. His eyes were closed, and his head rested against his bicep. "I'm so naughty...I never learn...you need to fuck the lesson into me." He gasped as Nate replied with a bigger thrust. "Yes...uuuuuhhhh..._can't get enough of my sexy Dad's thick fat horse cock...oh, it's so good...you're so fucking hot, Dad...you turn me on so much..._hhhhhnnnnn...I'm all yours, daddy, I'm all tied up, I can't stop you...you're gonna fuck me to show me who's in charge...but...uuuuhhh...I already know, daddy...it's you, always you, my daddy stud...'cos you fuck so well...I love your cock, I love your body, I love everything about you, Dad...uuhhnnnn...you're fucking perfect and I want to be fucked by you all day, every day, forever..."

Mason's words were driving Nate wild. He wished the ropes were at hand to properly tie his son up, but this would do. He pounded his son's well-loosened asshole with vigorous blows that made his fat goose-egg balls bounce heavily. He couldn't see them, but he could feel their weight pulling on his scrotum on every fall. It had been a couple days since they'd fucked, and the teasing show Mason had put on had blue-balled him quite badly. Combined, that meant a load big enough to make a zebra blush was roiling inside, held back only by his self-control.

"Dad...this is...how it ends..." Mason gasped. His eyes opened, dazed with pleasure, arms still held high. "The end of my dance...the new end..." His cock quivered like a barometer needle, pointed firmly at orgasm. "_When I'm down to the jockstrap...and I'm grinding in the air...I'm imagining I'm riding you, fuckdaddy...riding this perfect stallion cock to heaven and back..." His arms dropped, gripping his cock and stroking as quickly as he could. "It's the perfect end, daddy, 'cos just imagining being impaled on your gorgeous cock like this makes me..._ohh...hhhhhaaaa...daddyimgonnacuuuuUUUMMM..." His verbal control dissolved into a primal, ecstatic roar.

Mason was a few decades behind his father when it came to controlling his body. When his balls said cum, he obeyed. Nate didn't mind; it was a huge turn-on to see his son so far gone with pleasure from being fucked by him that he lost all control over himself. Mason's hands were gripping his cock right behind the shiny, obese flare -- pointing his penis straight up -- and Nate could actually see his son's cum flowing up his urethra moments before it burst from him.

The first blast flew straight up, hitting the ceiling a few feet above and splashing off of it, back down onto the two stallions like warm, sticky rain. The next didn't get quite as high, and splattered over Mason, turning his fine mane into a spiderweb of cum and hair. The third smacked him under the chin, dripping back down onto his hands and cock. And then Nate pulled his son's cock towards him and opened his mouth, eagerly guzzling the rest of the snowy stallion's orgasmic flood.

He loved the musky taste of his colt. His son's strict diet made him taste incredible, and he was every bit as much a breeder as his father. His thinner, cum-filled loads were voluminous, making Nate swallow as quickly as he could to keep up -- and then his thick, gelatinous finish tied the bow atop the stallion-cum gift basket. Nate made sure to hold the last in his mouth instead of simply swallowing it; it was far too good, too precious for that. So thick that it almost felt juicy as his tongue swirled through it, and with a far stronger taste. Powerful, heady, and delicious. A constant point in a world of uncertainty. The load that really said: you're sucking down a horny stallion's load, and you fucking love it.

As was so often the case, the taste of that final filial mouthful accompanied his own release. Even as his son was still coming down from his cloud of sexual bliss, his father trumpeted like a true rutting stallion and let himself go. Deep inside Mason, the thick stallion flare that had spread him wide in preparation for this moment grew even larger and began to unload. Cum erupted inside the younger stallion, his father's seed filling him, warming him, and marking him irrevocably as his son. Nate's hands gripped hard on his son's cock, his animal brain taking over in the intensity of the moment, his tongue still trying to lick cum from the wet flare even as he flooded his son's rear. Mason was no soberer, simply saying "Daddy, daddy, daddy," in a breathless voice over and over.

Even Nate's balls had a limit, though, and after almost ten violent releases, he let his son's cock go and flopped back into the couch cushions with an explosive sigh. Both of them took a moment to gather their breath, the only sound the occasional splat of a cum droplet falling from the ceiling. "That was..." Nate began to say, dreamily, before his son leaned forward and kissed him again. The stallions made out lazily, the odd cum-drip now accompanied by the squelch of Nate's semen-slicked cock moving in and out of Mason's ass as he shifted.

"...amazing," he finished, when Nate broke the kiss. He took his lover's face in one palm. "I love you, Mason," he said softly.

His son smacked his lips, nodding confidently and smiling back at him. "Mmm...well, I love a nice gel aftertaste when I kiss you, Dad." Then he poked Nate's chest with an accusatory finger. "And I told you we waited too long! I was so fucking pent up. And you...! Shit, I think your cock felt extra-big tonight." He felt around to his hole, rubbing the flesh still stuffing it. "Good job, Grenade!" he called out over his shoulder. Nate rolled his eyes. Mason thought it was simply hysterical calling his father's dick "Grenade", because -- as he put it -- it "fucked everything up real good".

"I blame the dancing," Nate said. "You're such a fucking tease, Mason."

Mason mimed part of the dance with a smirk and nodded eagerly. "I know! It's why I get the best tips at work." He rested one hand on his father's thigh, stroking it gently. "The other guys at work think I've got superpowers, 'cos I can cum into my jockstrap at the end of every show on command. You think I should tell them it comes from fucking my dad? Maybe they should do the same."

"Nah," Nate replied with a smile. "Their dads are probably boring. Send them to me -- I'll show them how it's done." He raised a hand to his brow dramatically. "I mean, If I have to be the one to breed an endless line of your stripper friends, I'll just have to take one for the team, won't I?" As his son made a spluttering noise of derision, the older stallion stroked his softening cock. "So, you finish in your underwear every night now? Every single time?"

"Yep!" Mason's face glowed with pride. "Happened sorta by accident, I was doing the dance one night and I realised it was like I was riding you...and I thought about this--" he gestured at the two of them "--and..." His fingers expanded like a slow-motion explosion. "Sploosh. Then this one stag asked me if he could clean it off. I thought he meant after I took it off, but he wanted to do it while I wore it." He nodded as if expecting disbelief. "Offered me three hundred bucks. So, I thought, why the fuck not, right? Went backstage, the guy came into my dressing room and sucked me clean right through the jock. It was...pretty fucking hot."

"Everything you do is fucking hot, son."

Mason blushed. "And now," he said, "every night, there's a fucking bidding war to be the one to clean my cum-soaked cock through my jockstrap!" He mimed sweeping notes off of his palm. "I'm making a fortune." He frowned. "Except for tonight, when the bear made me feel bad." He leaned in again and kissed his father's nose. "But you fixed that, Dad, so it's all good now. Well...I say you. I mean Grenade."

"Yeah, yeah," his father sighed, shaking his head with a smile. "Grenade does all the work, I get it. What are you gonna do with your dirty windfall, you intrepid entrepreneur?" He could feel himself softening, but he didn't want this to end. "Something sexy, I hope. Buy daddy some pretty clothes for him to pull off you with his teeth."

Mason clasped his fingers to his nose, eyeing his father. "Nu-uh. It's a lot better than that, you horny sex pest. I just...didn't wanna tell you yet..." He seemed torn.

Nate raised an eyebrow. "Oh, it's a surprise? That's alright, then. I can wait."

The young stallion nodded. "Yeah. But...ahhhhh! I can't!" He slapped his hands against his father's strong chest, his eyes wide and bright with excitement. "I'm gonna turn the spare room into..." He made a drum roll with his fingers. "A sex dungeon!" He squealed with happiness. "Think about it, Dad! Swings, toys, ropes, cameras, chains..." He leaned in and whispered theatrically into Nate's ear. "You can capture your train-carriage of a dick slamming into my tight hole, in full HD, from five different angles. There's the Christmas card sorted; Aunt Tabetha might have a heart attack. What do you think?"

Nate thought that he could not imagine a universe where he was happier than he was right now. The older stallion felt himself hardening up again -- and so did his son, who giggled, running a hand down his father's chest hair and wiggling down onto his cock a little. "Oooh...Grenade sure liked that idea. So, I guess that means you do too, fuckdaddy." He took his cock in one hand and slapped it against his father. "But old warhorses don't have the stamina to fuck their sons twice in one evening...do they?" He raised his eyebrows questioningly, trying to smother a giggle.

Nate smiled up at his handsome son in love and lust. "Go and fetch the ropes, you little horny fuckmachine," he said sweetly, "and I'll show you exactly how much stamina this warhorse has in him."