FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The horses were going to fuck again. He was certain.

Dillon sat on the windowsill, his back resting against the side. One leg extended along the sill, the surface just long enough to fit it; a cloven hoof tapped absently against the far wall. The other leg stuck off the edge, resting against the floor. He found it the most comfortable position to have easy access to his nuts.

The bull had been there for about twenty minutes, ever since he spotted the pretty chestnut stallion from next door lazing at the pool. He'd quickly locked his bedroom door and taken his usual spot, settling against the wood and loosening the ties of his sweatpants with one hand. It was only mid-morning on a Saturday; with luck, he'd get to watch them for an hour or two yet. Maybe longer, if the Appaloosa was extra horny. Dillon was hopeful: the weather had been awful for weeks, and this was the first sunny day in ages. Nothing like warm sun on the skin to get the hormones flowing.

One hand rubbed against the bulge in his sweats. He hadn't pulled his dick out yet; there was no rush. The equines always took their time, so he might as well, too. He anticipated a nice, long edging session, courtesy of his hot fucking neighbours.

Literally, if he was that lucky.

The chestnut stallion was relaxing on a deck chair, one arm flung behind him, fingers casually hooked over the top of the chair. His legs were spread wide -- hooves resting on the ground -- as if showing off his Speedo-covered crotch to the clouds. The swimsuit was the only piece of clothing he wore, pleasantly. His face was turned to one side, away from Dillon, and he seemed to be dozing.

Dillon sighed and cupped his balls through the fabric, massaging them as he drank in the sight of the studly horse. The chestnut was his favourite of the two stallions that lived next door; both were hot as shit, but the chestnut was hairier, and the bull liked that very much. From his vantage point, he could just about make out the nest of dark brown hairs under the stallion's arm. He thought about those armpits a lot. How they'd smell...or the way the hair would tickle his nose if he pressed into them...or how they'd taste. It distracted him so much.

Something about stallion scent -- more than the scent of any other species -- did something to him. Whenever one of the horses at school walked past him on a hot day, Dillon would have to resist following after with his nose in the air -- not to mention his tail. And never mind the locker room: that was a gauntlet. Luckily, everyone ignored the quiet, lanky track-and-field athlete; he simply stared at the ground, got changed, and breathed as deeply as he dared of the odour of cocky colt stud all around him. Restrain himself from crawling up to them on his knees and beg for a chance to bury his nose in their crotches. Hurry home, and lock his door, and retrieve his dirtiest secret: a used stallion jockstrap.

He stole a new one every few weeks. The guys at school didn't pay attention to their gear that much, and he made sure to choose a different stallion each time. They hopefully assumed it had gotten lost -- not that the tall, introverted bull who threw javelin was slowly filling a drawer with their underwear. The theft itself gave Dillon a bit of a thrill, if he was honest, but that was nothing next to the spike of endorphins he got when he pressed the cloth to his nostrils, his hand massaging his nuts, his mind going to another world. One where he could breathe in all the fresh stallion aroma he desired.

Most stallions -- and bulls, for that matter -- shaved themselves smooth. Dillon hated that. It made their scent just evaporate away, wasted. It was as if they gave no thought at all to the horny gay teenage bulls of the world; those bastards. But the chestnut didn't. Dillon couldn't see his chest clearly today, but he knew exactly how it looked. Firm, but not too defined; much like his own. Broader, though. The bull considered himself well within twink territory, but the chestnut was decades older, and a definite hunk. But their bodies had a much bigger difference than simple musculature: while Dillon's body had only seen fit to plant a few scraggly pube-looking hairs in the middle of his chest -- fuck, he hated them so much -- the chestnut had a veritable forest. Soft-looking russet hair covered his pecs from side to side, all but obscuring his nipples. A thin train-track of the auburn fur ran down from between the muscles, right down his impressively flat belly, and into the mysteries hidden by the Speedo.

The bull knew how those mysteries looked, too.

Dillon's hand slid up from his balls, and then in under his sweatpants. His cock was well on the way to hardness, and pre-cum leaked all over his palm as it passed. Not important. He enjoyed jerking off as much as the next teen -- but he enjoyed playing with his balls first, more. The horses could keep their -- admittedly gorgeous -- oversized members; he loved his fat nuts. With his legs spread like they were, his balls hung down one leg of the sweatpants, their weight a constant and pleasurable pull against his crotch. His scrotum was long, and the skin was tugged into taut folds by the mass of the testicles within.

Those were the weights his hand reached for now, cupping them in his palm and cradling them with his fingers like a couple of warm billiard balls. He rolled them back and forth, feeling them rub against one another. They moved about easily within his big sack. It was a lovely feeling, and he let his head rest back as he continued to play with himself, closing his eyes and concentrating on the sensations. He let them go, allowing the balls to settle against his leg, and flexed his cremaster muscle, making them rise, slipping upwards against his leg hair. He shivered a little; the sensation was otherworldly, as if he was feeling his nuts from inside and outside his sack at once. He loved it. When the testicles reached their peak, he took them in hand again and squeezed gently, making himself gasp. "Yeah, that's it," he murmured, his hand mentally replaced with the chestnut stallion's own. "Give 'em a squeeze...I like that...give 'em a lick, too..."

A hammering on his door made him start upright and almost fall off the windowsill. He jerked his hand out of his pants, heart thudding. "What!?" he yelled.

"Dillon?" His mother's voice was only a little muffled through the door. "I'm going out. Can you sort out your own lunch? Dad's working until this evening, so it's just you." The handle turned. "Why is this door locked?"

"I'm getting changed, Mom!" the bull yelled back. He jumped to his feet and tugged his sweatpants up unnecessarily to the middle of his belly. "It's fine, I'll do my own lunch!"

"Alright, dear. Be back in a few hours." The sound of his mother moving away and descending the stairs let the young bull relax. He held a hand to his chest and took a deep breath. Fuck, that had given him a fright. Good thing he'd locked the door. He felt a blush forming as he remembered the day his mother had walked in to get an eyeful of him pleasuring himself. That awkwardness had taken months to fade. He'd even had to endure a suicidally uncomfortable lecture from his father about keeping himself to...well, himself. The bull had tried to limit himself to the shower since then -- or at least make doubly sure that his door was locked before his pants came off.

When he turned back to the window, the chestnut stallion had vanished.

Dillon blinked. It took him a few seconds to locate the horse again; the stallion had gotten up, walking a little closer to the fence that separated their properties, and was half-hidden in the shade of a tree. One hand was resting on his hip, and the other was raised, shielding his eyes from the sun. Staring upwards. Peering, even. Right at Dillon's window. The bull froze.

And then he panicked.

The horse had seen him. He was looking right at him! The chestnut knew what he was doing. He knew everything. He was going to tell, and his mother would find out, and then his father, and he'd be grounded for-fucking-ever oh fuck oh shit oh fuck...

But then his rational mind coughed and tapped the table where the cards had been arranged in a different order. The horse had probably heard the yelling. He wouldn't be able to see Dillon, because Dillon had already tested if it was possible to see into his window from outside. With the interiors lights off, and the gauzy inner curtains pulled shut -- as they always were when he was...observing -- it was not. And there was no way anyone knew about the camera. No way.

As if the bull's mental rationalisations were affecting reality, the stallion dropped his hand and turned away, heading back to the pool. Dillon let out a whistled breath and sank back onto the windowsill as the chestnut stallion settled into his deck chair again. Okay, okay. It was fine. The horse took a deep breath, and settled further into his seat, raising both arms this time to grasp the back of the chair. Dillon could see his arm muscles flexing as he gripped, and he sighed. Stallion arms. Fuck yes. His hand snaked back into his pants. He could so vividly imagine being able to straddle that gorgeous male and press his eager face into his neck and armpit, as those arms wrapped around his upper back and pulled him in tightly...

Very faintly, Dillon heard the snick of a sliding door opening. Moments later a second stallion stepped out of the house, into the garden. He was shirtless, with only a pair of shorts on, showing off how smooth he was in comparison to his partner -- and how much more muscled. His impressive upper body was dun, almost black, but right above the waist that lightened into a pale snowy white, with black spots. His legs were just as pallid, and their smooth, fine hair seemed to glow in the mid-morning light. He paused, raising his head to the sky, eyes shut, enjoying the sun's warmth.

The Appaloosa.

As he sauntered closer to the other stallion from behind, Dillon couldn't tug his pants down fast enough. In moments, his dick was in hand, and he began stroking himself as he stared eagerly at the two horses, anticipating what came next. They seemed to really enjoy having sex outdoors. Perhaps it was the rush of being semi-public -- not that they had any reason to think they could be seen, given the wide screen of trees and shrubs around their garden. Or maybe they fucked so much that the garden couldn't help but see its share of the sweaty action. Whatever the reason, ever since the big eucalyptus that used to obscure his view of their garden had been chopped down last year, Dillon had watched the stallions screwing each other at least twenty times. And with any luck, he'd get to see it another twenty.

The Appaloosa reached his partner, and he lowered his head to give his husband a peck on the lips. They were definitely married; their rings were obvious. The chestnut squirmed a bit, raising his head a little to match the kiss, then dropping back down. They seemed to be speaking. One of the Appaloosa's hands slid down to grip himself, and Dillon grunted. Fondling a handful of stallion prick. Fuck, he wanted to do that almost every day. The cocky stallions at school couldn't hide what they were packing, and Dillon's eyes would stray when they walked past, their crotches bobbing as the flesh inside tugged at their underwear, the fabric trying its level best to keep it together. The young bull desperately wanted to walk up to one of them, and thrust his hand into his pants, and kiss him roughly -- their long tongues rolling around one another -- as he massaged their beautiful dick. He wasn't even sure what he'd do after that; the fantasy normally ended there, since the thought of that alone was enough to make him blow his load.

When the Appaloosa's head slid across to drop into the hollow of his partner's armpit, Dillon gasped and let go of his cock, for fear he would cum too quickly. He felt an ache inside; a desperate need to be doing what the Appaloosa was doing. Stroking his nose across the chestnut's stallion's secret hair. Breathing in his masculine scent. Feeling the warmth of his bulk; so close, so fucking sexy. The bull groaned in lust and took his balls in hand again; their stimulation would keep him on the edge, but not push him over.

"Sniff your man," he commanded with a growl. "Bet he smells fucking good. Makes you horny. You gonna fuck him? Bet he likes your big prick." He squeezed his balls extra-hard, the slight pain only inflaming him further. "Pound that doughnut until it's nice and loose, and dump your load in him...c'mon...breed your boy..." Or let me do it for you.

The Appaloosa stood up straight and walked around to straddle the chestnut, making Dillon hiss a 'yesss'. They began kissing more intensely, and the Appaloosa's hips shifted from side to side, grinding against the other male. The difference in their physiques was much more obvious now: the leaner, more defined chestnut lying under the big, bulky Appaloosa. Dillon wondered which the chestnut liked more: the sheer size of his partner's dick, or the muscular force with which he surely fucked. The bull was a virgin -- shit, he wasn't even out -- but he knew he liked forcefulness. He had a thick toy that he played with whenever he dared risk it, and his favourite position was to stick it on the ground, hold on to something for support, and let his weight drive it into him, rough and fast, over and over. There was something about the feeling of a male member punching up into him that hard which made him cum like a fountain. As if he was nothing but a sex toy for another big, strong male.

Preferably a stallion.

When the two horses rose and headed indoors, Dillon's heart fell. Why now? He wasn't even close! What sort of horses went back inside to fuck on such a gorgeous day, anyway? But even as the annoyed thoughts ran through his mind, he knew what he'd be doing to solve his problem. Mom was out, Dad was at work, and he was horny. Really fucking horny, thanks to the last half-hour of stallion foreplay. He wanted to watch the two studs fucking -- up close.

He slid off the windowsill and grabbed his camera. From the bottom of a drawer, he extracted an SD card and slipped it into the device as he hurried downstairs. He hadn't bothered putting on underwear, and his heavy balls thunked back and forth between his thighs, a redundant reminder of his mission. He barely needed to think about the process anymore. Out the back door, and straight to the corner of the property. Push one of the fence slats aside -- the narrowness of the gap was one of the few things that made him happy for his slim build -- and slip through the gap with a big exhalation and a squeeze. Move silently along the house and around the corner, staying below the window level. Slip along the building, getting closer to the main bedroom. Closer and closer...

He could hear them when he was still a few metres away. Two very different, very familiar voices.

"C'moooon, Art!" The chestnut had an amazingly deep voice, with a strong British accent. "Eat me the fuck out! I'm really fucking horny!"

A partly muffled chuckle preceded the other stallion's words. It sounded like he was in an adjacent room. "I've got shit to do today, Jasper. Later, alright? I just want a quick fuck now." Dillon suspected the Appaloosa worked in radio, or was perhaps an actor; his diction was precise, atop a cowboy drawl.

"Ugh!" There was the squeaking noise of bed springs as something large -- Jasper, probably -- moved about. "You're such a bitch. You were riding me for like twenty minutes out there. C'mon!" He tried another angle, with a sneakier tone."I bet my balls smell even better than my pits did..."

Dillon muffled a groan at that. If Art didn't want to nuzzle at his partner's gorgeous musky balls, the bull would gladly take his place.

"They always do, sexy," Art said, his voice become clearer -- and huskier -- as he seemed to move closer. "But right now, I only want to pound that gorgeous hole..."

Jasper chuckled and added a tease to his voice. "It's not that tight, stud. You fucked me pretty well last night..."

"Only pretty well?" The bed squeaked as unseen mass shifted around. "That's not what I remember you screaming. Now -- spread your legs."

"Make me, st--uhhhhhhh..." The chestnut's taunting tone switched to groans of lust and loud panting. "Fuck yeah..." he said, in between loud, lustful pants. "Strong bitch, huh?"

"You're so fucking hot, Jasper," Art growled. His partner moaned back. "Gonna fuck you into next week, you sexy stallion..."

Two almost-synchronised cries of pleasure made Dillon's cock clench and squirt into his pants. The bed started to squeak in a regular pattern, alongside the unmistakable sounds of stud-fucking: grunts, and snarls, and mumbled oaths. The bull wiped his sweaty hands on his shirt and then gripped his phone tightly, tapping the 'Record' button and lifting it up above the edge of the windowsill, trying to stabilise his shivering hands...

He'd figured out the perfect spot months ago. It was next to a bush of some kind that partially hid his hand when he lifted it up. The bed inside the room was positioned against the far wall, which meant that whoever was topping was looking away from him, and whoever was lying on the bed wasn't at a decent angle to see him. He'd filmed the stallions ten or more times before like this, and they'd never noticed. It was a victimless crime, as far as the bull was concerned: the stallions fucked in blissful ignorance, and Dillon jerked off to the video of it later. Everyone got what they wanted: to cum.

Dillon peered up from his crouched position, trying to observe the small screen of the camera without angling the lens too far off centre. He could make out two forms gyrating back and forth, so that much was good...although it looked a little different than before. Was it upside down? Oh, no, not that -- the horses were just in a different position. They must have rearranged the furniture. The bed was against the opposite wall now, with the Appaloosa facing him rather than looking away. And right as part of Dillon's brain registered the implications of this fact, an entirely new kind of bellow burst from within. A very nonsexual one.

"WHO THE FUCK IS THAT?"

Dillon's hand turned to jelly, and his veins to ice. The camera fell from his now-boneless hand, and he pawed at it frantically, trying to grip it as his heart rate skyrocketed and every sphincter he had clenched shut tighter than a virgin fox. He finally managed to get a grip on the instrument, and pushed himself to his hooves, hurrying away from the window. Go go go go go oh fuck oh fuck oh fuuuuuuu...

He could still hear them as he scuttled away. "What? What's happening?" The chestnut sounded terrified. "Don't fucking scream like that, you scared me half to death!"

"Someone's outside!" the Appaloosa bellowed. Dillon's sphincters re-checked their hermetic seals.

"What? Where?"

"In the fucking garden!" A door crashed open, and hoofsteps thudded along a floor. "Wait there!"

Dillon was halfway down the side of the house. He simply had to get past the sliding door, and then he could slip around the corner and make a dash for the fence and squeeze through the gap and they wouldn't know anything and he'd be safe. Oh shit oh shit oh shit. He rushed past the sliding door, not even wasting time to check if one of the horses was there yet. His free hand grabbed at the corner of the house to catapult himself around as he ran--

Stars exploded in his vision as a giant punched him right in the balls.

Every muscle tensed up in an instant, and the bull thudded into the ground, momentum carrying him a few extra inches along the lawn like a stunned base stealer. His world contracted to the ball of fire that was his crotch. He was dying, surely. He'd been shot in the balls, or someone had ripped them off. Except, when his hands gripped them in a vain attempt to ease the agony, he could still feel them. He couldn't think. He just needed the pain to stop, please, please...

He barely noticed when one hand clamped down on his shoulder and another hooked in under his armpit to tug him to his feet, except inasmuch as it made the pain flare up again. The hot tears running down his face made a vague impression on him, and he wondered who was sobbing -- before realising it was himself. A rough hand grabbed his chin and lifted his face up; when his blurry eyes opened, it was to see a very adult, very angry stallion looking back at him.

"Hello, neighbour," Art snarled.

---

Dillon sat in silence on the bed in the horse's bedroom, an ice pack pressed gingerly to his balls. Before him stood the two stallions. Art was holding his camera, looking through the contents with a frown, while Jasper stood next to him with crossed arms: staring at Dillon with a concerned look. Every so often, Art would tilt the camera to show his partner something, and the chestnut would shake his head slowly in disbelief. Neither of them said a word.

The young bull was trying not to think. Whenever he did, he saw his father's face, screaming at him. Or his mother's, asking him why he'd done this. Or people from school, pointing and laughing at him. That's the bull that spied on people and got caught. He's a disgusting gay pervert and he'll never have any friends ever again. He didn't see a way out of this. His life was pretty much fucked. In the best possible scenario, they only told his father, and he was grounded for the rest of his school years. More than grounded: he had at least one video on there which he'd filmed from his bedroom window on a particularly lazy day. He wouldn't be allowed near windows again. They'd probably brick it up. He'd spend the next two years living in a gloomy, sunless room like a hunchback.

He eased the ice pack away from his balls. The pain was down to a dull background ache, at last. Sir Isaac Newton had disagreed with his aggressive corner-taking: his balls had thumped together into the side of his leg, and then been crushed between his thighs as he tried to simultaneously run and slide around the corner. Hoisted by his own petard. Art had only needed to saunter up, grab him, and frog-march him indoors; the bull had been in no state to form words, let alone fight back. When the stallions had seen him gripping his crotch and blubbering, Jasper had gone to fetch him an ice pack, at least. If only to get him to stop crying, so that they could question him before his public shaming, Dillon expected.

He'd said as little as possible. Just his name; they already knew he lived next door. The horses seemed content to make their further judgements from what they found on the camera. Not that anyone could come to the wrong conclusion from almost a year of voyeuristic footage. With the immediate physical agony in his testicles fading, Dillon was starting to feel merely sick. Why the fuck had he listened to his dick? If he'd stayed at home, and finished edging by himself, or watched a video, or done anything except snuck into the horses' garden...

He clenched his teeth, trying not to cry again, and stared at the stallions in mild dread. They were both still naked, and Dillon was getting a flawless view of their bodies at the least sexual time of his entire life. Jasper's cock had retreated into his sheath already; his lean form was as gorgeous up close as Dillon expected. The bull could even see a few droplets of sweat caught in his chest hair as it bunched up above his crossed arms. Art's cock, meanwhile, was out on full display; the Appaloosa had a big pink dick, and it rested against the pale hair of his thigh now, glistening with what must be lube. Dillon hoped the stallion wasn't blue-balled from his interrupted fuck; that would only make him angrier.

There was a deep sigh from the horses, and Dillon snapped back into the moment. Art was gazing at him with that same frown, and he snapped his fingers at Dillon. "Hey. Hey." Dillon gulped and blinked at the tall stallion. "What's your name again?" the Appaloosa asked. "Dipshit? Dumbfuck?"

Dillon tried to keep his voice level. "D--Dillon." It came out sounding like a ten-year-old girl's, and he blinked back more tears. He saw Jasper frown, give a deep sigh, and turn to his partner.

"He's just a kid, Art," the chestnut said, his voice reasonable, but Art gave him an incredulous sidelong look.

"Yeah -- a kid with a camera full of footage of us fucking! Since..." He swiped through the videos. "Since eleven months ago." They stared back at the bull, who tried to sink into himself. Should he apologise now? When did he apologise? Would that even help?

"I'm sor--" he started to say, but stopped the moment Art pointed an accusatory finger at him. The stallion's arm looked to be thicker than his leg.

"You shut the fuck up," Art snarled. His teeth looked huge. Did horses bite? Why would the stallion bite him? Had he heard that somewhere? Oh, shit, he was so fucking terrified. "How old are you?"

Dillon wasn't sure which instruction to obey. "...s--seven...seventeen..." His insides were crawling around one another, trying to escape.

Art raised his hand in a 'told you so' fashion at Jasper. "There. He's legal. He knew exactly what he was doing." The Appaloosa went back to looking through the camera's footage, but the other horse seemed unconvinced. Dillon dropped his eyes from the lean stallion's gaze; somehow, the almost paternal concern in his face was worse than the plain anger in Art's. His eyes, unable to find anything familiar to latch onto in the bedroom, ended up on Art's penis again. He found himself objectively comparing the stallion's dick with his own as he tried to avoid thinking about his circumstances.

Bulls and horses had pretty similar penises, overall; bulls had no medial ring, and had larger heads that didn't flare. They also didn't retreat entirely into a sheath like horses did when soft. Bulls tended to be thicker, but stallions longer. Art's cock was long -- longer than the colts he'd seen at school, certainly -- but Dillon was already thicker than him, even at his age. He'd probably add another half-inch before he turned twenty. It was a little satisfying to know that he was bigger than a breeding stud like Art in at least one way. If he'd been capable of feeling anything but anxious tension at the moment.

There was an amused nicker from Jasper, and he nudged the Appaloosa with his elbow. "I think he likes your dick, sweetie," the chestnut said. Dillon's eyes shot upward guiltily, meeting Art's, who didn't seem to know what to say in reply. The two of them stared at one another for a few seconds, until Jasper leaned across to whisper something into his husband's ear. Dillon saw the Appaloosa's eyes flicking between the bull and his husband, before his face turned to look at Jasper.

"Really? Now?" The mix of confusion and disdain in his words was only exacerbated by the disbelieving hand that he waved in Dillon's vague direction. "Him?"

Jasper shrugged. "Yeah. Why not? He's legal. And cute." Dillon's mouth dropped open at that. His secret crush, the sexy, hairy chestnut stallion, thought he was cute? He was not in the right frame of mind to process that -- or the openly lustful look that Jasper shot at him right after. He felt very confused. His mind had lurched from denial to terror, and now it was trying to integrate arousal. What had Jasper said to Art? What had he suggested?

His dick had an idea. But listening to his dick was how he'd ended up in this mess to begin with.

Art shook his head. "You're just really horny," he said. "And I know you've got a thing for bulls." The intensity of his earlier tone, however, was already gone.

Jasper shrugged again. "Can't help that." He grinned and slid his arms around his husband's chest. "And you said you'd try it someday. Remember?" He nuzzled into the taller stallion's neck. "We can watch it later, together. You'll like that, I know you will. Watching yourself fucking me, you big stud." His hand stroked down the stallion's body and groped his cock. "This sexy thing pounding my ass...making me moan...seeing it from angles you've not seen before..."

The Appaloosa's nostrils had widened, and he was taking deeper breaths. His cock thickened as Jasper played with it, and the look he gave Dillon now was more calculating than angry. "He still has to be punished," he said, but raised his free hand to stroke the other stallion's mane sensually.

"Of course," Jasper soothed. "He can..." He thought for a second. "He can come and do the garden for a year. And take out the trash. And if he forgets...well." They both turned their heads to regard the young bull. "We know where he lives."

Dillon stared back with wide, confused eyes. What was happening? Moments later, he had to quickly raise his hands to catch the camera as Art tossed it at him. "You get that, you little shit?" the Appaloosa asked him.

Dillon's mouth gaped. "I...don't know what...uh...what's going..." Jasper giggled and Art smacked a palm to his forehead.

"Legal, but stupid," he said with a sigh. "He's definitely a teenager. You." He pointed at Dillon. "Take that." He pointed at the camera. "Film us." He pointed at the two of them.

"Uhm." Dillon looked down at the camera, then raised it awkwardly to point it at the two horses. "Okay..."

"Holy fucking shit," Art growled in exasperation, and Jasper had to muffle an outright laugh. "Not now, dumbass! When we're fucking!" He gestured in annoyance at the bull. "Get up!"

"Oh, um, oh..." Dillon jumped to his feet, still feeling a little lost. While they fucked? "Um...are you, um...will you...not tell..."

"Fuck me! Jasper, please, fix this before I die of fucking old age..." Art groaned, and his husband -- a huge smirk splitting his face -- walked up to Dillon, slipping an arm around the other male's shoulder. The slight air movement wafted his scent across Dillon's nose, and the bull couldn't help but breathe it in. Fuuuuuuck. The perfect horse smell. In an instant, he realised the horses at school didn't have a scent anything like this. Their funk was immature; coltish, he now understood. Jasper's redolence was how a full-grown stallion should smell.

And his deep voice, speaking slowly and gently, like a lover, didn't do anything to tamp down the stirring in Dillon's loins.

"You've been really naughty, Dillon," the chestnut said. His raised arm meant his armpit was really close to Dillon's face. A stallion perfume, all freshly-mown grass and musk, drifted into the bull's nose. "I think you realise that. And you need to be punished. You understand?" When Dillon neither replied nor moved, Jasper smiled. "Just nod." Dillon gave a nervous nod. "There we go. So!" The stallion held out a hand in front of the bull and began ticking off fingers. This meant that both of his armpits were leaking scent right next to Dillon's face. The bull braced his legs, desperate not to fall. "You'll do some things for us, Dillon, to make up for all the secret orgasms you've had at our expense." Dillon gulped; his mouth had gone dry. "Firstly: you're going to clean our garden for a year. Mowing, pool work, cleaning up, digging new flowerbeds, cutting each blade of grass with tweezers if that's what takes our fancy. Whatever we say, you do."

The stallion waited for a nod, and continued. "Secondly. You'll take out our trash bins every week. I'm lazy and I don't want to keep doing it." Pause. Nod. "Aaaaand..." The chestnut stallion tapped the point of one of the bull's horns. His body felt like a small sun; Dillon could feel the heat through his clothes. "Thirdly. You're going to use the skills you've no doubt acquired in the last few months to make us a nice home video. All that, and we won't tell your parents. Alright?"

Through the almost physical rush of relief, Dillon attempted to simultaneously nod and say "Yes, sir," but his brain decided a sir needed a salute for some reason, and he raised the arm holding the camera instead, knocking himself in the head. As he stuttered through "Oh, sorry, um, oops", Jasper tittered, and Art snorted. The chestnut's eyes gave Dillon a slow once-over as he moved away, and then he turned his back on the bull, his tail swishing aside provocatively, giving Dillon a clear view of the back of his balls and his shiny doughnut. Dillon gulped.

"He's just nervous, sweetie," Jasper said to his husband, gently rebuking his snorting mate. "Are you a virgin, Dillon?" he asked the bull, as he slid an arm over Art's shoulder and rested the other hand on his hip. Fuck, he was so hot. The bull blushed and rubbed at one of his horns nervously, then nodded. "There, see?" The chestnut said amiably. "This is probably the most sexual situation he's ever been in. We're both naked, he's excited and scared and horny...well, he's not the only horny one." Another fondling of Art's cock had the Appaloosa's upper lip rising in flehmen. "Don't you remember being a teenager, sweetie?" Jasper asked. "All full of hormones and poor decisions?"

"I remember not secretly filming people fucking, sure," Art said, but his husband slapped his balls lightly, making his partner jerk and grunt.

"Come now," the chestnut chided him. "We've already decided what Dillon can do to atone for that." The chestnut stallion grinned naughtily at their ersatz prisoner. "You've seen a lot of us this year, Dillon." He twirled a finger around his husband's nipple playfully. "Do you perhaps have...a favourite stallion?"

Dillon blushed again, his face radiating heat like a sun. Still fiddling with a horn, he pretended to be thinking -- before pointing shyly at Jasper. The chestnut stallion smirked, and Art rolled his eyes. "Yeah, well, I've got a bigger dick," the Appaloosa said, flicking it upward with a hand as a demonstration. The heavy mass flopped back down against his body with a meaty thud, drawing the eyes of both the other males.

"Of course you do, sweetie," the chestnut said, unable to hide the massive grin growing on his face. "Dillon is clearly a bull of refinement. He can see beyond the obvious, carnal attributes. His true passion is..." He looked at Dillon with a raised eyebrow, and the bull opened and closed his mouth a few times.

"I...like hair," he managed eventually. At least he didn't sound like a little girl this time. Jasper raised both hands in silent celebration and pranced between the other two males with dressage hoofsteps, inviting invisible applause with his fingers. Art shook his head at his partner, but smiled nonetheless.

"But, um, but your, um, penis is very nice, too," Dillon added seriously, looking at Art. He didn't want to offend the scary stallion at all -- especially given the dirt he had on him. Art stared at him for a moment, then looked down with a snort, and shook his head slowly.

"Teenagers..." was all he said before grabbing his braggart husband in his arms the next time he passed. They kissed deeply. "You still horny as fuck?" he murmured, when the kiss ended.

"I waaaaas," the chestnut teased back. "I mean, I am. Always. But then I won the Best Stallion prize. So now I'm thinking..." He teased behind one of his husband's ears. "I should fuck you first, maybe." He took his husband's lower lip between his teeth and pulled back carefully, his own ears perked curiously towards the buff male.

"You could," Art mused, when his lip was released. "Or..." He leaned in to whisper into the chestnut's ear, and Dillon saw Jasper's eyes snap instantly to Dillon -- and his cock drop like a stone. The chestnut's nostrils flared, and he reached down to grip his husband's cock, jerking it a few times.

"Look who's a dirty, adventurous boy all of a sudden," Jasper breathed to his mate. He grabbed the Appaloosa's face for another rough kiss, breaking it off only to stare into his eyes. "Let's do that," he growled. "Fucking yes."

"Is he up for it?"

"Oh, please. Look at him. Just say the word 'dick' right now and he'll cream his pants. This is a dream come true."

Dillon kept his mouth shut. They weren't far wrong.

Art pushed Jasper backwards, towards the bed; the chestnut toppled over when he reached it, lying spread-eagled on the covers. The bed was high; the perfect height for one stallion to lie flat while another fucked him, it seemed. Art grabbed his husband's legs and pulled them wide, revealing his winking hole as his obsidian cock hardened further, snaking out across his lean chest. Both of the horses were snorting and whinnying now, their lust inflamed. Art took only a second to align his cock with his husband's asshole and then turned to the bull, who was staring at the scene with wide eyes, a dry mouth, and damp pants. Art smirked and winked at him.

"Get to work."

Dillon had watched the horses fucking before, but always from a distance, or on video. He'd watched a lot of other porn, too. He would have said he had a good grasp of sex, despite never having tried it. But, seeing the two stallions going at it now, it was immediately apparent how much he'd missed. There was a...intensity that simply didn't convey through video. The chestnut stallion's arms were raised above his head, gripping the headboard for support. One of his legs was pulled upwards, held close by his husband; the other was stretched out to one side. Every time Art thrust into his partner, the chestnut gave a cute little pleasured whinny, and his lip flapped up a bit. The bottom stallion's erect cock was leaking over the hair of his chest, darkening his treasure trail. Dillon could smell it: an incredible, masculine tang. The chestnut's hazel eyes were aimed at directly at his mate, carrying a half-lidded bedroom look that met the intense, focused expression on his husband's face and did not break away from it even once. They were in their own pleasure-world; the bull may as well not have been there.

The air dripped with sex, and Dillon was hard as a rock. He could see Art's long cock sliding in and out of Jasper's hole; the bigger stallion wasn't pile-driving his husband, but his pace was brisk. The bull lifted the camera, aiming it at that sight. What better place to start? He started to zoom in...and then had a better idea. He walked closer instead, bringing the camera right up to capture the image as best it could. The sounds were beyond erotic: the horse's thickness stretched the doughnut wide, and the well-lubricated ass moulded itself to the surface of the pink horsecock. Whenever Art withdrew, you could hear the other stallion's body trying to make it stay, with squelches of lube and fleshy gulps of air. Jasper's soft, happy whinnies had a counterpart in Art, who gave a grunting snort each time he hilted inside his mate. Neither of them said anything; they knew one another's bodies well enough to know exactly what the other wanted.

Dillon moved the camera up from the glory shot, sliding it slowly up Art's thigh and along his side, capturing the yaw and flex of his obliques and lats. The horse looked amazing even when standing still; in motion, with his power focused on fucking another male, he looked godlike. Dillon had to restrain himself from reaching out to feel the play of muscles under the horse's skin. He slid the camera around to his target's front instead; zooming in and tracking a single drop of sweat as it formed in the hollow of his clavicle, before tracing its way down the stallion's powerful chest, next to his wide, pert nipple, and slipping into the gully of his abs. Art's entire chest was shining with sweat in the warm room, and his aroma was overpoweringly sexual. Dillon tried to ignore the idea of Art pulling out of his husband -- cock long and flared and throbbing -- and throwing the bull down next to his partner, and fucking him like he was fucking Jasper...

He slid the camera all the way down to Art's crotch again -- his decent-sized balls bouncing about under his cock as he pounded his dick into his husband -- and then over to Jasper's body. The chestnut's own balls were lightly furred, like two kiwi fruits, and were riding up and down inside his sack as their owner flexed and relaxed. It reminded Dillon of nothing more than smaller versions of his own, and he stared, entranced. A thin ballhawk of hair ran down the mid-line of the stallion's nut sack, and Dillon's mouth watered at the thought of tasting it. He adjusted his sweaty palms on the camera's grip and panned up across Jasper's body. His matte-black cock was still leaking over himself; his treasure trail was soaking wet, and it smelled heavenly. Above that, across his flat belly, his hairy chest heaved, rising and falling with his deep breaths; each one powering a happy, sensual whinny. His skin was covered with a shiny layer of sweat, just like his partner's, but his chest hair was furthermore dotted with droplets that glistened in the camera's viewfinder like morning dew on an auburn field.

Finally, up to the chestnut's face. He was staring at his husband with a blissful look, but he tilted his head to look into the camera when Dillon drew level, and gave a simple, happy smile for the lens. His mouth was ajar, and the hot breath he expelled with each pleasured whinny made the image fog up. Dillon moved back a little, taking in the stallion's broad shoulders and inviting underarms as well.

"Tell your future self what it's like, handsome," Art said. Dillon glanced at the top. He was watching his husband's face with intense delight, biting his lip as he thrust in and in and in. "Remind him how good it feels."

"As if...I could...forget," the chestnut stallion moaned. But he tightened his arms, making his upper body flex and rise a little from the bed, and settled back down with a shuddered groan. His head turned to the side again, speaking into the camera. His eyes were shut tight, as if he wished to eliminate all sensory input except the ones he wanted to remember. "It's so fucking good...Art's dick is amazing...he gets so deep inside me..." He whimpered happily and pressed his body downwards a little, giving his husband more access to his rear. "I can feel him sliding all the way up inside me, with that fat flare rubbing on everything along the way...fuck, I love your cock so much, Art...fuck me harder, baby..."

The Appaloosa growled in agreement and thrust forward with additional force. Jasper slid up the bed a little and cried out, his deep voice almost guttural now. Dillon moved back to take in both of the stallions as their fucking intensified. Jasper's hands tightened repeatedly against the headboard, and Art dropped one of his hands to take hold of the chestnut's cock and jerk him off, leaning forward over his body as he did so. "You like my dick in you, sexy?" he asked, his hand squeezing the other stallion's flare, covering his hand in slimy pre-cum. "I love fucking you...you're so fucking good wrapped around my dick..."

"Yes...yes...fuuuck...oh fuck..." Jasper's gasped words were making Dillon's dick throb. He felt as if he might be able to cum without even touching himself, but that was probably just the intensity of the situation. His balls were aching, though; he'd have to jerk off soon. He couldn't believe how hot this was. He turned the camera on Art, and the stallion's haughty expression looked into the lens.

"Film his hole," he grunted.

Dillon lowered the camera and focused on that. Jasper's pitch-black ring was thoroughly loosened, and Art's crimson prick speared into it every second with ease. Dillon saw his medial tug at it on each withdrawal, and the way the inner flesh bulged as the stallion flare almost pulled out. It was huge. His own ass clenched as he imagined having that mass inside him, spreading his passage wide. The stereotype was that bulls were stretchy, and Dillon knew he fit the bill. But this monster of a bulge looked bigger than even the widest part of his toy; when he looked up, he could see the outline of it through the stallion's lean belly as it slid around inside him. Fuck, that was hot. He filmed that for a bit before returning to the churning happening at the chestnut's asshole.

Art had sped up again, and so had his hand. "You want my colts, bitch?" he snarled, his hand a blur on Jasper's cock. "Milk my dick, then, you sexy fuck. Drain my balls. They're full of horny stallion cum, just for you..."

Jasper's eyes were screwed shut, and he was swearing like a sailor as his husband hit all his pleasure points. "Yeah, yeah, fuck, fill me, fuuuck, oh fuck, yes, yes, harder baby, harder..._uuuuhhhh..._oh fuck, I want you...fuck my ass...breed me..."

Dillon was still filming his asshole when he started crying out, and he jerked the camera up to catch the first shot of Jasper's cum smacking into the side of his face. As soon as his husband's orgasm began, Art let go of his cock, grabbed his erect leg with both hands, and began jack-hammering into his mate's hole as hard and as fast as he could. His own screams of pleasure weren't far behind, with Jasper's tunnel doubtless clenching down around him. Dillon gasped as he watched Jasper's belly distend even more from his husband's final flaring, and then the big top stallion just...stopped. With Jasper leg still held aloft, and Art's hips pressed right up to his mate's hole, he had frozen; the ecstatic scream had passed, and now his teeth were bared, and his ears had flattened against his head. Air hissed out of his nose, and as Jasper's cock spat the rest of his seed over himself, the bulge in his midsection throbbed and pulsed: his husband, breeding him with a deep and satisfying finish.

Dillon was in his own world, watching the stallion's reach their respective crests, imagining any number of scenarios; he jumped a bit when Art gave a loud groan and let go of Jasper's leg. The big stallion took a step back, his softening cock slithering easily and wetly from his husband's well-fucked hole. Jasper remained outstretched on the bed, his legs spread wide and his hands lax, breathing deeply with slow, satisfied breaths. Dillon ran the camera over his body to catch the sweat and the cum that covered him -- and filled the air with their combined scent. The bull's arousal was close to blanking out his mind. He'd have to jerk off right now...

"Gimme that," Art said, and took the camera from Dillon. He stopped the recording, then glanced over at the bull, his eyes running down from his horns to his crotch. Dillon's hands tried awkwardly to cover his erection, but it was far too late for that. Art smirked, then placed the camera down on a side table and tossed a loose bit of mane over his shoulder.

"Did you enjoy watching?" he asked the bull. Dillon stared back at him with surprise, completely unsure how to answer the question. It felt like a trap to say yes, but it was clearly a lie to say no. He stood frozen for a few seconds until Art laughed. "Shit, it's like looking twenty years into the past," he said, half to himself. He gestured at Dillon with a lazy finger. "Gonna make your fucking day, Dilton."

"...Dillon."

"Whatever. You want this?" Dillon repeated his deer-in-the-headlights look, and Art began to frown before Jasper's lazy voice interrupted them.

"Be nice, Art." He sounded incredibly satisfied. "You wanna play with us, Dillon?" he asked the bull. His eyes were blinking slowly, and he had a soft smile on his handsome face that made the bull feel more at ease than Art's stern expression and matter-of-fact words.

"...uh, y--yeah..." His mind had short-circuited at the thought. Playing with these studs. With Jasper? And...with Art's cock...

"Good." Jasper smiled and stretched out more; Dillon watched the muscles flex and his doughnut flutter, letting out a dribble of his husband's semen. "We want it too. Get naked, cutie, and come and fuck me with that sexy bull dick."

It seemed to Dillon afterwards that he went from fully clothed to naked in one instantaneous moment. He certainly retained no memory of undressing. He was just suddenly ready: nude, shaking a little with nerves, and standing before the horses as they eyed him up and down. That part didn't last long.

"Oh, honey..." Jasper purred, making Dillon blush. "You're gorgeous. The perfect twunk." Dillon supposed he did count as a twunk; he'd never really thought about it before. If you ignored the horns -- and lack of amazing body hair -- he could almost pass as a leaner Jasper.

"Heh...um, th--thanks," he stuttered. His stomach was still doing loop de loops inside, but the compliment helped. He'd never been nude in front of strangers before -- well, apart from guys at school. But that was nothing like this. They never looked at him like they wanted to slurp him up like a milkshake.

"How big are your fucking balls, man?" Art said breathlessly. Dillon turned to see his eyes locked to the bull's prodigious testicles. "Fuck me...they're amazing." He looked up at the bull with a knowing smirk. "Bet you cum like a fire hydrant, huh?"

"Heh. Uh..." Dillon reached down to cup his balls and lifted them for the stallion to ogle. "Yeah...I cum a lot..."

"Like how much?" Art pressed him. He seemed utterly taken with the bull's endowment, and Dillon's comfortableness with the situation scaled accordingly. It felt really good to be admired by studs like these.

"Um...I don't really measure. Maybe, like...a mugful?" He knew from overheard conversation that most guys used tissues when they jerked off - even the horses. He couldn't. If he ended up playing with himself in bed, he needed to have a full-sized towel handy to prevent his generous spray from leaking out and ruining the bed covers.

Art grunted, and his cock dropped a little back out of his sheath. Dillon's cock twitched in response. The stallion was getting aroused again -- by him! He let go of his balls and tugged his cock aside to show off his little cremaster trick. As his balls lifted and descended like a testicular elevator, he watched Art's cock drop further, and start to harden up again. Fuck, this was hot. And fun! Fuck yeah. Two sexy stallion guys enjoying his body.

"That sounds so fucking hot, Dillon," Jasper said to him. His deep voice made the soft words sound extra sexy, and the look he gave the bull was raw longing. "Show me, sexy thing," he cooed. "Bulls are so fucking hot...and you're pretty as a fucking peach, with balls like fucking melons..." He moaned with desire, grabbing the headboard again with his hands -- biceps flexing hard with the strength of his grip -- and spread his legs as wide as they would go. "Come and fuck me, Dillon," he begged. "Fuck that big bull load into me."

Dillon's eyes were like saucers, but when he looked at Art, the stallion was grinning. "Go on," he said. "He's your favourite, isn't he? Give him what he wants."

Dillon's feet felt like they were encased in concrete as he shuffled up to the edge of the bed, but his dick was a rod of white-hot iron. He was panting with excitement, and couldn't stop his body from shivering. Jasper's inviting hole was right there. Right fucking there. A guy's ass. To fuck. For the first time. While his...while his husband watched...

The young bull took his dick in hand and pressed it to the opening. "Oh, fuuck," he whimpered, feeling the hot flesh touching his sensitive head. "Oh, fucking shit, you're so hot..." He took the stallion's leg in hand, just as Art had. It felt hard with muscle. Fuuuuuck. Fuck, fuck, this was...oh, fuck...

"Yeah I am," Jasper told him, eyes like glinting pieces of tiger's eye. "I'm a hot fucking stud and I just got bred by my stud husband. His seed's still inside me, and it's hot and wet and delicious. And I wanna add your juice to his, you sexy bull twink. So fuck me!"

Dillon began to press into the horse, and gave a choked cry as his cock was swallowed by the stallion's anus. It felt better than he could have imagined. The male was so loose that he slipped inside without even needing to try, and the incredible warmth and pressure of the chestnut's body around his dick made the bull tense up. Without thinking, he wrapped both of his arms around the leg, hugging it to himself as he pushed in deeper, getting as close to the horse as he could. He could feel the other stallion's semen squeezing around his own cock, lubricating his passage into the male. Stallion within stallion: virility personified. He was only halfway in when Jasper started moaning loudly enough for both of them to hear.

"Oh, shit...he's really fucking thick, Art...fuuuuck me, it feels good..."

Art climbed onto the bed next to Jasper and pulled him into a kiss, and Jasper's words dissolved into moans as his husband stroked a hand along his chest and started tweaking a nipple. Dillon felt the stallion's body clench around him as Jasper's fingers teased him, and he thrust in harder, eager to do his part for their threesome. Jasper grunted, and then moaned deeply and sensually; Dillon repeated the motion, and got the same response. He loved the feeling of pulling out and thrusting back into the horse: the skin partly covering his sensitive head rolled back and forth, providing extra stimulation on top of the warm pressure of the walls enveloping his prick.

Fucking a guy felt amazing.

The bull zoned out, only peripherally aware of gripping the stallion's leg and thrusting repeatedly into his amazing hole. Time seemed to fade, and he screwed his eyes shut, focusing on the fuck. His excitement was blinding him to anything else. He started snorting on each inward thrust, whispering to himself every time his balls thumped pleasantly against the stallion's taint. "Fuck...fuck...fuck..." He never wanted it to end; this was perfect. But he could feel his balls rising already. The edging session earlier had done its job, and Jasper's wonderful, sloppy fuckhole was doing the rest. He'd been going for ages, though...it wasn't that hard to last long. Why did everyone say it was so hard? Even on your first fuck of a horny, sexy, hairy stallion stud...

"FuuuuuUUUUUCK...UHNNNN...!"

Dillon's entire body went stiff when he orgasmed: his mouth hung open, and his tongue lolled out like a wet, pink worm. His balls vanished up into his body, and his belly clenched repeatedly as he pumped his thick load out in four or five massive spurts. The first couple were normally strong enough to shoot up right over his head, if he let them; buried inside Jasper, they instead squirted out and around his cock, warming it and making the final few thrusts even softer.

"Ughhh...hmmmmmm...uhnnnn...!"

The ache he'd had in his balls since he started spying on the stallions earlier was finally gone, and he'd joined the two horses in being covered in sweat and stinking of sex. That had been fucking fantastic, though...

But when he opened his eyes, the horses were looking at him with expressions of vast amusement. He blinked, awkwardness returning to fill the space left by lust's satisfaction. "Um..."

"First time's the best time, huh?" Jasper said, not even trying to hide his wide smile.

"Uh..." Dillon suddenly felt very aware of his situation: gripping the leg of a stallion as old as his father, dick-deep in his ass. He let Jasper's leg go and reached down to pull his cock out. A wash of semen followed it before Jasper clenched himself closed again: a mixture of grey horse cum, marbled with the shocking white of bull. "It was...so nice..."

"How long was that, Dillon?" Art asked, with a smirk.

"Um...like, uh, te--five minutes?" He'd wanted to say ten. It had felt like forever.

Both horses burst into laughter, and Dillon blushed. His cock was deflating, and he tried to cover it again self-consciously. Jasper noticed, though, and waved the bull down with a swallowed snigger.

"No...no...it's fine, cutie. Hahaha...!" He wiped away a tear. "You're adorable, that's all. Don't worry, you fucked well. Except that was..." He looked at Art for confirmation. "Barely a minute?" The chestnut stallion's beautiful, guileless smile was the only thing that kept the bull from feeling ashamed. One minute?! How? It had felt like so much longer...

Art got to his feet with a soft groan and walked over to him, slipping a hand around his back. His scent was entirely different from Jasper's. Less earthy and more...curated. There was a strong hint of vanilla, for a start, but even his sweat smelled slightly sweet. In fact, altogether, he smelled like a delicious dessert.

"Don't worry about it, bull," he said, patting Dillon's smooth chest. "We didn't expect more. Honestly, we probably cheated a bit. Sloppy stallion seconds is fucking irresistible, but I knew Jasper would be up for it." He put a hand on Dillon's shoulder. "What next?"

Dillon looked up at him uncomprehendingly. "Huh?"

The stallion waved a hand between the three of them. "What do you want to do next?" When Dillon's expression indicated he didn't have a clue what to say, the horse rolled his eyes and grabbed the bull's dick, making the younger male start. "You think a quick and awkward fuck is the end of all this? You've gotten us both pretty horny, kid...and it takes a lot to properly expend a stallion. Even more so, a couple." Dillon groaned as the stallion's hand massaged his cock back to thickness, and Art's nose lowered to sniff across his neck -- and then lick it. "Youwanna fuck my husband again?" he whispered. "That was hotter than I expected. You'll last longer this time, I think." He chuckled. "Well, probably. Or...you can suck my dick. I wonder how far down your throat it'll go. It's a good bit longer than your sexy thick prick." His hand dropped down to feel the bull's balls. "But no matter what, I wanna give these beauties a tongue-wash before you go. For fucking sure..."

Dillon's heart hammered as he tried to sort through the list of impossibly wonderful options while Art continued to nibble and lick his way along his chest. He had to bite his lip to keep from crying out when the horse's lips wrapped around one of his nipples. "I...I..." he tried to say. Art raised his head, sliding his tongue across his lips as he looked into Dillon's eyes with a greedy expression.

"What's that?"

"I...I wanna smell him," Dillon whispered. He didn't know why he whispered, except that Art had started it. "Jasper. I wanna...sniff his hair. Sniff him. His -- armpits. And balls. And crotch." Just saying it was turning the furnace inside him back up to maximum. "He smells so fucking good..."

Art smirked, taking a step back and waving a hand genteelly towards his recumbent husband. "Go on, then." As Dillon stepped towards the bed, Art called out to his partner. "Looks like we've got a hirsute horse appreciator, sweetie. He wants a sniff of your lovely hair."

"Oh, my," Jasper said with a wide smile. He hadn't moved from his outstretched position on the bed, except to raise one leg and rest the hoof on the covers. "Do you enjoy the hairy guys, Dillon?"

"Yes, sir," Dillon replied. He put a knee onto the bed, moving slowly closer. "Very much."

"Sir!" Jasper seemed entranced by that. "Gosh, aren't you just the sweetest thing?" He repositioned one hand behind his head, exposing the armpit closest to Dillon. The thick russet hair inside was exuding so much musk, it made the bull's head spin. "Have a taste, then, sexy," the horse murmured.

Dillon's head was diving for his pit before the horse had even finished saying the words. He pressed his nose as far into the hair as he could and breathed in deeply. Spots danced in front of his closed eyes. The stallion's post-sex funk was so strong, he almost fainted. Instead, he pressed forward harder, spreading his nostrils as wide as he could to drink it all in. None of that coltish funk that the guys from school carried. This was raw, powerful, and incredible. It made Dillon's tail rise of its own accord. The owner of a scent like this would always dominate him. Even though he'd just fucked him. That didn't matter. Top or bottom, he would crawl up to the master of this musk after sex, and ask him if he performed well enough for him. Beg for his approval. Beg for another hit of his addictive scent.

The bull's tongue lapped out just as Jasper lowered his arm to trap the bull's nose in his armpit, and Dillon wanted to scream as if in rut -- if that wouldn't have taken valuable seconds away for his worship of the horse's pit. The stallion's body heat made his musk even more potent, and his skin was electric across Dillon's tongue. The sweat was a little sour, but the stallion himself overpowered that mild distaste with a delicious, grassy, male tang that made Dillon moan and lap at him with bottomless zeal. Breathe in; lick; breathe out. The hairs were soft against his tongue as he stole the flavour of the stallion. One hand tightened against the bedspread, and the other rode up the horse's side to run fingers through Jasper's chest hair, over and over, alternately grasping it between them and stroking across its softness.

When the stallion's pit was sopping, he rose for air. The first ordinary breath seemed weak and pale next to the ambrosia he'd just been breathing, and as he panted, he stared at the sea of red velvet that covered Jasper's chest. He didn't waste any time deciding: with a swing of a leg -- which caught Jasper by surprise, making him gasp in pleasure -- he straddled the stallion's body, as his husband had done earlier, and began nosing at his chest. The thick hair felt fantastic, rubbing across his muzzle, and he lapped up the same wonderful flavour. He couldn't think of anything better -- until Jasper flexed his chest, giving him a furred ravine between his pecs for the bull to run his mouth along. Top to bottom, bottom to top. Breathing all the way up, licking all the way down. Moaning endlessly.

Behind him, a new noise gained in volume. Something soft, slapping against something wet with ruttish passion. It was a welcome addition to the snorts and moans and snuffling sounds that he can Jasper were providing; the chestnut stallion was loving the attention he was getting from the bull, as his sounds made clear. Dillon slid across to nuzzle at a nipple, and one hand stroked the stallion's side, from his beautiful lats up to his perfect, dark pit--

"FuuUUUUUUuhhhhhckkkkk...!"

Jasper's unrestrained cry made Dillon stop what he was doing and look back over his shoulder. The chestnut wasn't even able to look back; his eyes were shut, and his head was arched backwards, exposing his neck. The muscles there were tensed, and between his straddling legs, Dillon felt the stallion shaking. This wasn't thanks to him, though; this was something else.

The noises behind him were practically slurps now, and Dillon slid off the stallion's trembling body. At the foot of the bed, kneeling on the ground, was Art: hands holding his husband's thighs apart, and muzzle pressed deep under his balls. The Appaloosa was grunting with deep satisfaction, and his head moved methodically up and down. Every time he did so, Jasper squirmed and tried to close his thighs on the other stallion's head -- whether to keep him there, or push him away, wasn't clear.

Art broke away and lifted his head; a few beads of cum decorated his nose. "Fuck, baby," he moaned, "you taste so fucking good right now. Bull cum is fucking hot..." He licked the string of cum from his nose and made a 'come hither' motion with his fingers at Dillon. "Come and taste what you did, bull."

Dillon joined Art on the floor, staring directly at Jasper's hole. The stallion's doubly fucked hole was broad and loose; every few seconds, it fluttered, and a dribble of cum oozed out. Art scooped some onto a finger and pressed it to Dillon's mouth; the bull let it enter, tasting the mix of flavours. His own cum, and the Appaloosa's, and the wonderful, now-familiar taste of Jasper...holy shit, it was perfect. His expression must have said it all, because Art grinned and nodded at him as he pulled his finger out of his mouth.

"Yeah," he purred. He tucked a hand behind Dillon's head -- fingers catching on his horns -- and pressed him forward, and down. Dillon didn't even try to resist. "Jasper, baby," Art said to his husband, "You're gonna get that rimming you wanted after all." The dark cleft of Jasper's crack approached -- along with the shining beacon of his musky hole. Dillon sighed and shut his eyes.

"Eat him out, cutie," the Appaloosa commanded, right before Dillon's mouth was buried in stallion doughnut. "Make him scream."

Dillon's mouth opened, and he began lapping up, around, and inside the doughnut using every technique he'd ever seen in porn. If he was amateurish and terrible at it, it didn't show in Jasper's reactions. The stallion cried, and swore, and flexed every which way as if trying to escape the relentless tongue and lips working his muscular hole...and yet his words told Dillon not to stop. To go harder, deeper, faster, in fact. To lick him out; to tongue-fuck his slutty hole. The bull obeyed. It wasn't hard: the stallion's softness felt and tasted magnificent. Dillon could feel it moving as he worked, feel the flex and relaxation of the muscles. He could taste the marvellous potion of the mingled bull and horse seed -- and the sublime equine flavour of Jasper that dominated them both. The tip of his tongue pressed in, briefly afraid, but the stallion had prepared well. His flavour was wonderful. The bull tongue circled, barely inside the ring, pushing back against the pressure and relishing the heat. His lips suckled around the hole as the tongue dug deeper, while Jasper howled and groaned and begged for more.

"It's coming, baby," Art said soothingly, and Dillon felt Jasper's balls bouncing on the top of his muzzle as the Appaloosa jerked his husband off. He momentarily shifted his attention up, to lick and nuzzle at those orbs -- but Jasper screamed at him not to stop with an intensity only matched by physical pain, and he quickly dropped back down to the horse's ass.

"You gonna cum again for me, stud?" Art was asking. His husband could only blubber moans in response, and the Appaloosa filled in for him. "Yeah, you are. Does it feel good, with a bull at your tailhole? I know you like it. Look how hard you are. He fucked you, and filled you, and now he's cleaning up his mess. You're all full of cum, sweetie...yeah...it's all swirling around in there, all thick and delicious...and the bull's warm tongue is licking it right back out..." Jasper gave an agonised cry, and the balls smacking Dillon's muzzle accelerated in pace. "Come on, gorgeous, lemme see you cum again...you sexy fucking stallion...spray all over yourself for me..."

Dillon had been increasing the effort he used to hold the stallion's legs open, but Jasper was ultimately stronger than him. As another orgasm began to crest, the chestnut stallion's thighs clamped shut on Dillon's face, trapping him at the same time as the doughnut clenched shut -- right on Dillon's tongue. The bull could do nothing but let the big stallion's climax happen to him: listen to his screams of pleasure, feel his hole pulsating like a mad thing, smell and taste his own cum -- and Art's cum -- squirting out into his mouth as Jasper's body underwent what seemed like a minor seizure in the throes of his second orgasm of the day.

When Jasper's legs relaxed, releasing Dillon's head, the bull rose on shaking legs. Jasper lay on the bed as if dead, utterly spent after the assault of pleasure his body had received. Art rested on his knees next to him, breathing heavily and taking in the sight of his satisfied husband. When Dillon's eyes met his, he answered the unspoken question with a smile.

"Oh, no...we're still not fucking done, kid. Or done fucking, I should say."

Art helped Jasper to his feet, and the horses kissed for a while. When that broke off, Art nuzzled the size of his husband's muzzle, speaking softly to him.

"Go get cleaned up, handsome. And show Dillon what to do, too. It's his turn." He turned to Dillon with a raised eyebrow; this was all the opportunity the bull would get to say no, apparently. He thought he knew what was going to happen, but...

"Do you want to get fucked by a horse, Dillon?" Art asked, and his pink cock rose and slapped against his belly.

The bull's ragged expulsion of air answered for him, and the Appaloosa chuckled. "How about...two at once?" he teased. Jasper looked over as well, and the two stallion studs regarded their erstwhile voyeur with knowing, horny looks.

Dillon whimpered. "Yes."

"Are you sure?" Art asked. "People say that bulls are pretty stretchy, but...well, horses are pretty big. We can do it one at a time if--"

"No! Both. Please. Yes. I want you both to fuck me," Dillon said, in a tone of eagerness that surprised him as much as the stallions. "I can do it. I've taken big stuff. Bigger than...than you." He pointed at Art's long cock. The thought of both of these studs inside him at once wasn't a thought he'd considered at all during the months of spying on them, but he knew he wanted it the moment Art said it.

"Well, alright then," Art said with a grin. "Let's give the horny little twink what he wants. Before he changes his mind." Dillon blushed, ears flattening to the side, and the stallions laughed.

Jasper took him into the bathroom and showed him a few things. It felt a little weird at first, but ultimately not too different from shoving his toy up there. The chestnut stallion showered himself clean as the bull got ready, and when he stepped out, Dillon felt...well, confident was perhaps the wrong word. He didn't feel quite as unready. The bravado of minutes before had cooled, and his mind was trying to judge exactly how much bigger two stallion dicks were compared to his toy. Jasper must have picked up on that, because he winked at the bull and raised an arm again. Dillon took a few deep sniffs of the shower-fresh stallion pit; It was lemon-scented from the soap, and the hair was extra-soft.

"You're such a cute little thing, Dillon," Jasper murmured. "I'm really glad we worked things out." He fondled the bull. "Going to be seeing a lot of you when you're over here working off your...punishment." His head dipped closer to the bull's ear. "You should start working out, cutie. Bulk up a bit. I bet the stamina of a sexy muscle bull would easily be able to fuck both of us, one after the other, with this gorgeous thing." A final squeeze of Dillon's rock-hard dick, and the chestnut sauntered out of the room, tugging the starry-eyed bull along with him.

Art was ready. He slid a hand up Dillon's back and neck and stroked one of his horns. "Horny," he said, and Dillon allowed a smile for the most obvious of bull jokes. Then the stallion's hand pushed him forward gently, and Dillon dropped onto the bed, hands-first. His tail had been partially raised for ages, but now he raised it right up; the tuft of hair at the end quivered, betraying how he felt. His nervous excitement was a physical thing in his throat. Should he have been so bold? Two stallions at once...fuck, it sounded scary. But also, hot. Way more hot than scary, definitely. Would it--

A warm tongue curled around one of his balls, and every other thought fled. He pushed his face into the bedspread to muffle his loud groan, but it still leaked out; he heard Jasper titter. "The little horndog liked that," the chestnut said, and Art's tongue -- it must be Art -- slipped around the other as well. Only now did Dillon think to imagine what a long, thick, nearly prehensile horse tongue could do. Well -- not much imagination was needed...

Art soaked each ball in spit first, with slow, flirtatious licks. Dillon could feel the wetness on his ball sack, cooling in the air. The sound of the stallion's tongue lapping at him was beyond erotic. Once they were wetted, the stallion started playing with them a little. His tongue tucked beneath one and hefted it, as if doing weights. The firm mass inside rolled around a little on top of the horse's tongue, cradled in the softness; Dillon had never been able to do anything like that with only his hands, and the unearthly sensation made him whimper with pleasure. Art finally dropped them both, but only to fit in a few words.

"Your balls are fucking amazing, Dillon."

The bull groaned. "Squeeze them," he said, and tugged on the muscle to make the testicles rise within his sack. With delight, he heard Art take a startled breath.

"Holy fuck...Jasper, look at what he can do..." the Appaloosa breathed. The horses were silent for a while, apparently entranced by the sight of Dillon's huge balls rising and falling on command. When he stopped moving them, it was only seconds before a tongue returned. This time, it was more purposeful; Art spread his tongue flat, covering almost the entire scrotum, and licked from base to root with quick, eager strokes. The tip of his tongue dug into the crevices made by the skin, and his breath was alternately hot and cool on Dillon's sensitive flesh. It felt fucking incredible. The bull could feel dribbles of spit starting to run down the sides of his sack; they tickled, and made him giggle and tug his balls up again, trying to dislodge them with the sheer size of his nuts.

When the horse sucked one of Dillon's balls into his mouth entirely, the bull almost choked. He couldn't prevent his body from collapsing down onto the bed, or his hips from starting to thrust a little against it; rubbing his cock back and forth along the fabric. The ball stimulation felt far too good. His moans became more frequent as Art massaged an entire ball at a time with his warm, soft, wet mouth -- and kept the other primed by squeezing it gently between a couple of fingers. After a minute, he'd swap, and the other nut would get a turn in heaven.

Dillon would have sworn that having his balls sucked and fondled by a horse was the best feeling ever -- even better than fucking Jasper -- until the bed creaked and moved, and he raised his head to see the chestnut kneeling right in front of him with a sultry expression. Jasper was resting his own balls in his palm, and pulled the bull's head gently forward. Dillon opened his mouth and allowed the horse to rub his lightly furred nuts across his lips, and muzzle, and tongue. He gave the balls a lick when he could; even after the chestnut's shower, the taste of stallion persisted. But the feeling and flavour of warm, fuzzy stallion balls pressed to his face -- marvellous though it was -- wasn't better than having his own sucked: that happened when he felt Art's tongue lick up along his sack, up, up...and keep going. The warm horse tongue oozed upwards, along his taint, reached his nervous hole -- and dived right in.

The bull screamed in shock and pleasure, only to have his cry muffled by being forced into Jasper's sheath. The chestnut horse's cock was flopping loosely from his sheath, and Dillon's nose was invaded by cockscent as his hole was penetrated by a tongue that felt as thick as a horseprick. Jasper was gripping his horns, pushing and pulling on his head, making his entire body sway on the bed. When he tilted back, Art would fondle his balls and sloppily explore his rear; when he went forward, Jasper would grunt and grind his crotch against his face. The stallions must have done this sort of thing before; they were in perfect sync. Even their noises matched: Jasper's deep snort every time he tugged Dillon towards him punctuated Art's continuous, horny moans. The bull bounced between the two stallions, each end servicing their carnal lusts with gleeful abandon.

At the same moment, both horses stopped. Dillon's face flopped down into the blankets when Jasper's supporting hand vanished; too overstimulated to speak. He felt hands pressing his legs wider, and then a grunt as a heavy body slid on top of his. There was some soft talk, and then the unmistakable sound of someone jerking a lubed cock. He tried to speak when he felt the cockhead press against his hole, but he still couldn't make words. Not that it mattered too much; the words would only have been yes, yes, fuck me, fuck me. But then he felt the second body pressing close, and the hands hooking around his thighs, and the other cock probing at his hole, right below the first...

The two spongy stallion flares pressed together as they pushed inward synchronously, feeling like nothing so much as one huge cock. Dillon groaned and tried to rise from the bed, but the weight of the horse above him held him down. The dicks weren't too thick, at least; it felt like the thickest part of his toy. But they kept pushing in...and the shafts were thicker and firmer than the heads. Dillon lowed, long and slow, as his ass was stretched wider than it had ever been. It didn't hurt, though; true to species form, Dillon's horny asshole did everything it could to accommodate the stallions. He felt their hard, hot flesh penetrate deeper and deeper, widening him as they went -- and massaging his favourite spots. His cock was leaking so much into the blankets, his entire belly was wet now.

Art's flexible lips were suddenly teasing at his ear. "You're tight," the stallion hissed. "It's hot." He'd stopped pressing in, but Jasper hadn't; Dillon could feel the lower cock still driving inwards, inch by inch. It felt crazy, and incredibly arousing. "I've never fucked a virgin before," Art continued. "I'll make sure you don't forget this fuck, sexy..."

The muscled stallion started to thrust in and out of Dillon, leveraging his powerful hips and his position to drive his long cock nearly all the way in. He'd have hilted, too, if he hadn't had to make space for Jasper's cock. The chestnut stallion's member was also thrusting, but at a different rhythm; their sensuous moans made it clear they were pleasuring one another as much as Dillon. The bull could imagine it: their cocks frotting one another inside of him, rubbing along his own sensitive walls and the skin of their partner's cock both.

But most of all, he could feel it.

His ass felt as wide as a freeway tunnel, and the thick stallion cocks were providing more than enough lubrication with their own pre-cum; the shafts slipped around one another, swapping positions and prodding into his walls as their owners shifted position. Each new thrust hit a fresh point inside the bull. Some made him moan, as seismic pleasure-waves rippled outward from the impact. Others were like a firework going off in his ass, making him twitch and squeeze the blankets that were trapped between his sweaty fingers. And the rest was just...fullness. Full of thick, hard, stallion cock. Full of lust; for this fuck, and the sexy fucking horses making it happen. Full of an urgent, desperate need to be soaked with as much cum as Jasper had been. Dillon wanted that same loose, sloppy, drooling hole. The thought that it was going to happen, that the horse dicks fucking him right now were going to flare -- oh, fuck, they were gonna flare! -- and dump their hot loads in him, and it would fill his ass and surround the dicks and squirt right back out of him...

He pushed his head to one side, exposing his mouth and taking the first cool breath he'd had for minutes. "Cum in me," he begged. He sounded like a kid begging for a treat; he didn't care. "Please cum in me, please, I want your cum, both of you...fuck, you're so fucking hot...I need you...I want to feel you flare, I want to feel you cum, I want you to keep fucking me forever..."

Art heard him, at least; Dillon felt his body rock harder against the bed as the stronger stallion increased his pace. He was breathing hoarsely, right above Dillon's head, his body suspended over the bull by his arms alone. Elsewhere, Jasper was simply saying "Fuuuuuuck" repeatedly. This must be what heaven was like. The pre-cum dampened blankets rubbed his overly sensitive cock, and his balls jostled in their sack. Oh fuck...oh fuck...he was getting close...

Art must have read his mind, because his hands suddenly repositioned onto the bull's shoulders, pressing him down into the blankets. His hoarse breathing intensified into hot snorts and crude words, and his hips began to pound the bull's hole with all of his strength. Jasper joined in, and Dillon groaned as the stallions fucked him hard, like crazed, horny animals. Art was pushing in deeper, as if trying to beat his husband's cock, and he felt bigger on every thrust. He was bigger! He was beginning to flare, his cockhead growing larger and larger, preparing to plug the hole that his dick had made, and was about to fill with seed...

His flare was hitting all the right spots inside Dillon, and the bull couldn't stop himself. With a half-suffocated cry, he started to cum. His muscles twitched and clenched as the orgasm blossomed in his mind, and the horses felt it too. One of Art's hands clamped down on the back of Dillon's neck."Gonna cum," he gasped at the bull. "Fucking tight...fucking hot twink bull bitch...fuck, I can feel you cumming...ohfuu_uuu_...!"

Dillon's ass was spread wide by the two cocks, and even Art's fat flare couldn't stop his tremendous orgasm from flooding the bull's cavity and then running right back out. Jasper's wasn't far behind: a rising, wordless cry that was mirrored by the flaring that Dillon could feel alongside Art's. All that extra horse cum had nowhere to go but out: Dillon felt it all but spraying out of him, sucked right out by the two piston-dicks that fucked it into him to start with. It splashed down his legs like a river: warm, and gooey, and filling the air with the smell of the stallions.

Art was still thrusting as he came, but even that faded as his lust was spent. A final push, and he collapsed on top of Dillon, groaning and sighing. Dillon was still recovering from his own; the blankets below him were far beyond damp. His ass had felt like a white-hot furnace of pleasure as he came, and the potent perfume of stallion in the air had just made taken it to the next level. And now, two sweaty stallion pits were right above him, on either side of his face; hairless, but wonderful nonetheless. And the big stallion's mass pressing down on him...and both their cocks still inside him...

He could have died then, and it would have been perfect.

Instead, the stallions recovered. With grunts and growls, they lifted themselves up, and pulled their dicks out of the bull, and sat on the bed, to either side of the bull. Jasper rested a hand on Dillon's back, stroking up and down the bull's spine.

"That was...wow," he said. There was a moment of silence, and then the understatement made them all laugh at once. The spell broke; the stallions helped the bull up, sitting to either side of him. Jasper ran a finger through the cum that was coagulating on Dillon's belly hair. "Messy." He lifted the finger to lick it clean. "But tasty."

Dillon blushed again and said nothing. He was sitting in between two much older stallions, who'd taken his virginity simultaneously after catching him spying on them fucking...now that his lust had vanished, he didn't know what to say to them. Sorry? Thank you? Can we do it again soon? The third one was even on his lips before he stopped himself.

"You'll be here every weekend, Dillon." Jasper's voice solved his dilemma; he turned to look at the horse and nodded at the instruction.

"Yes, sir."

Jasper smiled. "Saturdays. Nine to...eleven?" He looked across at Art.

"Make it twelve," the other stallion said. "I don't want to rush."

Dillon nodded rapidly. "Yes, sir," he said, and Art nodded at the bathroom.

"You can shower before you go. I'd suggest it." He took a deep sniff. "Even a rock could smell the cum on you."

Dillon rubbed at the cum on his belly and nodded, getting up and walking to the bathroom.

"Oh, and bull?" Dillon turned back; Art was holding up the camera. "We're keeping this," he said sternly. "Find some better hobbies."

"Like working out," Jasper interjected with a smirk.

Some terrifyingly cocky part of Dillon chose that moment to manifest. "Okay," he said, "but only if I can take your underwear." In the dead silence that came right after, Dillon imagined Art walking over and ripping off his balls with a single furious tug...

But Art's shocked face was in direct contrast to Jasper's explosive laugh, and when the Appaloosa turned to look at his husband, the chestnut just laughed harder. "What did you expect, dear?" he asked his husband with a chuckle. "The kid's got massive balls." Still giggling, he got to his feet and walked over to the pile of clothes they'd discarded much earlier, picking out the Speedo that Dillon had seen him wearing outside. He gave it a sniff, then smiled and rubbed it slowly against his crotch for several long seconds before tossing it to Dillon.

"There you go, you horny thing. Got some cum on it for you. Make sure you're wearing that when you come over, you hear me?" The chestnut rubbed at his chin with a smirk. "That, and nothing else."

---

Dillon slipped back into his garden through the fence when he was done showering. His hosts -- was that even the right word? -- had been standing around their kitchen when he left, nude as sin and chatting to one another. They'd waved him out the door, but that was all. Dillon supposed it made sense: he'd been another fuck for them, nothing more.

Jasper's musky Speedo was pushed deep into a pocket. The stallions at school would be safe from the Jockstrap Bandit in future; they couldn't compare to the chestnut stud. Or to Art, for that matter; with every step he took, the bull's no-longer-virgin hole reminded him of what had happened to it. A deep and pleasant ache -- and a slow dribble of wetness -- that only made him want to get filled again immediately.

He could see his mother's car parked at the front; he whipped up a quick story in case she asked, and pushed the back door open, sauntering casually into the kitchen. His mother was unpacking groceries, and looked up at him in surprise. "Oh, there you are. Where were you?"

"Helping out next door." He pointed over his shoulder with a thumb redundantly. "I do their garden work now." Might as well set up why he'd be missing for several hours every Saturday from now on.

"You do?" His mother paused, one hand resting on top of a box of detergent. "That's unexpectedly...active of you."

"They're nice. And I get paid." In cock. Dillon grabbed an apple and a swig of milk straight from the carton, then waved at his mother. "I'm gonna head out again."

"What? More garden work?" His mother stared at him in mild shock. This much motion from him on a Saturday was unheard of. "Did you have lunch?"

"Yeah, I ate." A stallion's juicy asshole. "And no, I'm going to the gym."

"The...gym_?"_ His mother blinked as if she didn't believe what she'd just heard. "To...exercise?"

"Of course, Mom!"

"Well..." His mother seemed stuck between simple delight that her listless, rangy son was choosing -- of his own accord! -- to do some self-improvement, and a burning desire to inquire more about what had triggered this...at the risk of breaking the spell. "That's wonderful, sweetie," she demurred, "but -- what on earth has brought this on?"

Dillon paused midway through grabbing his keys. "I wanna get fit, Mom. I'm allowed to want to be fit." Fit, to fuck horses as hard as they fucked me. Fit, to ride those sexy sweaty holes, and smell their musk, and... He had to force himself to stop thinking; he could feel himself hardening up.

"Of course, son. It's just..." His mother finally decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth, and shook her head. "Alright, sweetie. Good for you. Have fun!"

Dillon waved a farewell as he headed out the back door, tossing his keys in the air and catching them again. He was gonna work out so much. He was going to become huge. The stallions would love it. They could stroke him, feel his muscles...sniff his pits...mmmffh...right after exercising...he'd come straight over...hard and ready...

Lost in pleasurable daydreaming, he only looked up right as he reached his car door. Art was standing on the pavement, watering the roses that lined the outside of their property. He was wearing his shorts again - along with a straw hat, and a pair of glasses. He looked like every suburban husband ever. You couldn't even imagine, looking at him, that he'd just engaged in a rough and dirty threesome with the teenage bull next door. It gave Dillon an even bigger thrill than stealing horse underwear had.

Art glanced over at Dillon, and a huge, knowing smirk crept up the side of his face. He raised one hand in greeting, and in a voice so casual it was wearing a Hawaiian pattern shirt, called out to him.

"See you soon, neighbour!"