Beneath the Full Moon
This was written for my friend's birthday! The big perve that she is, she asked me to write a story that felt a bit... voyeuristic. She likes to watch, what's wrong with that?! :P Anyway enough chattering from me, here it is :)
A gentle breeze strokes the darkened hilltops just south of town, the warm summer night alive with the music of the night. Crickets and nightbirds sing as bats flitter overhead, extinguishing the light of the numerous fireflies that hung in the air. Below, the town slept, the eerie amber glow of hundreds of streetlights lending it a strange separation from the moonlit hills that surround.
On the very crest of the southern hill, an equine couple kneels on the grass, their bodies silhouetted against the night sky. They are gloriously naked, and unashamedly so, their clothes in a messy pile beside them, staring into each others eyes as the breeze ripples through their hair.
The figure on the left, a female, apparently in her late teens, is a wonderful example of the Andalusian breed. She's coloured a soft gray, a whorl of hair just above her right hip. She has a long, delicately proud face, her long, broad neck leading to wide shoulders supported by prominent collarbones. Her breasts are high and firm, modestly sized with small, nublike nipples hardened proudly in the cool night air. The concave curve of her spine provides a wonderful visual counterpoint to the slight swell of her stomach, the bones of her ribs faintly visible above her belly. Her hips are wide and flared, her limbs long and slender. The soft, well defined curve of her rump cries out to be groped, screams to be kissed, licked and tongued, calls to feel the collision of the lower stomach as manhood drives into the petal-like lips of her sex. She seems to be fresh from a horse show, her pale mane tied with pretty ribbons of white silk, the first 8 inches of her tail plaited, the remainder immaculately brushed, brushing against the backs of her shapely calves.
The figure on the right, a male in the middle of his twenties, is no purebred, which is obvious at a glance. The 6'6 stallion possesses a massive frame reminiscent of the powerful Shire horse, though he carries qualities of numerous other breeds. Short brown hair covers a body rippling with muscle built from a life of hard work, veins raising his skin from beneath across his arms and chest. His back is strong and straight, lacking the graceful curving beauty of his partner but gaining the undeniable attractiveness of strength, his hips and thighs built as strongly as the rest of him to support his bulk. He is erect, achingly so, the veins prominent along his black shaft, the flared, flat head topped with a clear pearl of liquid. Despite the way he towers over the young woman across from him his posture suggests nervousness, shyness, and a total submission to the female before him. He is hers, willingly so, and he will do anything to please her.
It is their hands that make the first contact, gripping each other gently, their lips meeting next, a soft moan carried on the wind from the lips of the female. The pair of bodies slowly meet, her breasts against his chest, his penis against her stomach, his hips moving to grind himself against the softness of her belly, leaving the pearl that crowned his head clinging to the hair below her breast. They stay locked in this passionate kiss, their eyes closed. His tongue slips from between his lips, her lips part to accept them, and the two hot, moist muscles writhe together sensually.
The scent of the mare's heat is strong on the wind, but stronger still in the male's nostrils. It is the female however who is at the helm of this passionate coupling, so it is she who places a hand on his chest, her eyes flashing as she watches him lie back for her. Her hand wraps around his shaft, pulling the throbbing shaft towards her as she bends to greet it, softly kissing at the flattened head with the clumsy sweetness of one whose sexual prowess lies in inexperienced passion rather than practiced skill. The male moans, a hand raising to take off those tiny ribbons, allowing the mares mane to fall about her neck in a long pale curtain. Her lips part as she takes him in her mouth, eyes closing, a moan in her throat as she suckles hesitantly. Her partner's hips buck slightly, his low masculine moan carrying across the windswept hilltop.
The heavens open, loosing a light spattering of rain onto the couple. She shivers a little, pulling him from her mouth to giggle to him girlishly, her hands ceaselessly working his shaft. She seems more confident now, more comfortable, and her partner recognizes it. He sits up, moving to her, grinning to her as a powerful hand reaches between her legs. She gives a soft gasp, her eyes finding his... Then she pushes him away, shaking her head, a smile spreading across her face. He's puzzled, and he gazes at her questioningly... Did he do something wrong? She shakes her head... No. Her hand goes to his chest as she pushes him onto his back once more.
Their bodies steadily become soaked as she climbs over his hips, pinning that large equine member between her sex and his stomach, biting her lip as she rubs herself against it, leaving her wetness on him, her hands resting on his chest. His hands go to her forearms, rubbing from her wrists to her elbows as his eyes wander up and down her body, focused most often on the perfect breasts, watching them jiggle gently with her movements, watching the rainwater roll down them and drip onto his stomach. Though the rain is steadily getting heavier, there is a wetness shining on her thighs that has nothing to do with the rain and everything to do with the stallion beneath her. She wants him, it's obvious, and her eyes glitter with her need. He sees it, and places his hands on her hips, lifting her body easily. She takes him in her hand, guiding his cockhead to her entrance, her body trembling with desire, wracked by the force of her lust. He gives her a questioning look, and she nods, lowering herself onto him.
Those delicate lips part slowly, making her gasp loudly, her breaths coming in sharp shudders. He has his eyes locked on his cockhead, the erotic sight of her lips stretching to accept him making the anticipation of penetration all the sweeter. Anticipation becomes a reality, her lips finally enveloping him, his cockhead slipping inside the warmth of her sex with a wet sound that makes them both smile. Now she's lowering herself, whimpers and gasps mixing with the grunts of her partner as inch by inch she works herself down that shaft, the slightest swell of her lower stomach marking the progress of his massive organ. Finally her lips would kiss his crotch, leaving their wetness behind, and both would let out a deep breath, smiling to each other. He would sit up, pressing his chest to hers as he wrapps his strong arms around her. She presses her lips to his, closing her eyes as her arms lace themselves around his powerful neck. The rain hammers down on them as they start to move together, moaning into each other's mouths, encouraging each other. They are both soaked now, her long pale hair sticking to her neck and face, his long black hair plastered on his back.
The tempo of their coupling increases slowly yet steadily, as does the urgency of the sounds they make. They part lips, staring into each other's eyes for long moments, becoming one sexual animal, one body linked by the strength of their pleasure. Their movements reaching a fevered intensity, droplets of water fly off them, her breasts bouncing heavily as that thick cock plunges in and out of her. Every thrust creates a wet slopping as the virginally tight walls of her grip his muscled length... But they do not smile now. They are too engrossed in their shared world of ecstasy, too focused on the pleasure swelling inside of them.
The female is the first to be overwhelmed, her whimpers echoing across the bare hills as she clutches her stallion tightly, soaked body quivering against him. He slows down for her, knowing how sensitive she is, not wanting to totally overwhelm her. The moment her spasms stop though, he continues his previous relentless pace, making the mare squeal for him once again. Not a minute would pass before she shudders once more, her cries plaintive, almost pleading, begging him to relent, the sensation he brings her torturous in it's intensity. Giving her the briefest of kisses, the male begins to pound her hard, grunting as his cock tenses, ready to explode inside the sweet mare ontop of him. He begins to pull out of her but she stops him, shaking her head, her eyes full with a powerful need... He is surprised; she has never allowed him to do this before. But she needs his love inside her, and she will gladly pay the consequences.
He continues to fuck her, making her squeal for him once more as he hilts himself inside her over and over, his forehead lowered, pressed against hers. He thrusts himself as deeply as he can, holding his breath as he feels himself pass the point of no return, feeling the tension inside him build to its climax. With a gasp, he'd loose himself inside her, thick spurts of liquid carrying millions of sperm flooding into her tight passage, planting his seed in the fertile fields of her womb. She closes her eyes; her forehead still pressed against hers, heedless of the rain hammering down on the, feeling only the breath of her stallion against her, feeling only the warmth rushing through her body. She hopes, prays that he impregnates her this night, eager to carry the handsome stallion's child. She murmurs inaudibly to him, wordlessly, her lips merely forming sounds of contentment.
Finally the flood would stop, and he'd press hips lips tenderly against hers, his initial shyness returning. She accepts his kiss, returning it with the same tender softness. She'd sit up, shivering slightly as she eases him out of her, his penis falling free from her with a small shower of his seed to slap against his stomach and lie still, slowly softening.
Once both had recovered, the pair stand, gathering their dripping wet clothes and dressing each other, the occasional kiss shared between them. Then, hand in hand, they set off down the gently sloping banks of the hill towards the town, leaving no evidence of their presence save flattened grass where their bodies lay and a few silk ribbons, lying like tiny butterflies, shining in the moonlight, forgotten.