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The dragon was dying.

He lay on the floor of his den, eyes lidded, outstretched as if deceased. Chalky dust coated his umber scales, making the almost motionless creature appear to be a toppled statue left upon the rough stone floor. The occasional twitching of his wings, and the shuddering breaths he took at long intervals, were all that betrayed that life yet suffused him. In truth, he was in the prime of adulthood, and only despair made him hope that the agony he felt inside was the precursor to a quick death.

For if it wasn't, then he would surely go mad.

It was the beginning of the year's warmth, and the dragon was in rut. He was no juvenile, driven to distraction by the first flowering of carnal need; he had lived for many summers and bred many mates. Yet, for reasons he could not fathom, the potency of his desires this season had struck him with the fury of a challenger, leaving him almost insensate with lust and need.

The very air bled with musth. Though the dragon's brain had long since ceased to register the scent, he knew it remained, overpowering every other smell in his den. The breaths he expelled were full of it, and what little lubricating oil he managed to express was so concentrated with pheromones, it was no longer clear, but sunset-red. The thin fluid ran down the seams between his dusky scales, making it look as if the colossal reptile had been assembled from broken plaster and ruby filigree.

But to see the most obvious, most maddening, most desperate sign of his body's cravings, he had only to lift one hind leg and look down at himself. The long slit between his hind legs appeared inflamed: the edges no longer perfectly mated to seal his penis away inside its soft home, but engorged with blood and standing proud of his belly. From their puffy lips, he wept: a constant stream of lubricant, more golden than piss, and ten--a hundred!--times as odorous. Any dragon within fifty miles should be able to smell him...and yet he remained alone. Whether he had silently been rejected, or whether his kin had grown so rare as to no longer inhabit this continent, he did not know.

He stared miserably at the crimson slash of his sex on the far side of his body, stretching his short neck towards it once more in what he knew was a futile attempt at self-pleasure. At relief. The faux pain that burned within his belly centred on those musky folds. His body, dumbly obeying the rhythms of the year, had decided that he must breed. One thought and the muscular pink length of his penis would emerge. Perfectly slickened by the golden fluid that soaked his slit, it would slide within his mate, seeking the hottest point of the other dragon's depths to coat in his seed. One mating would be all he needed, and the rut would fade. A single female, his body was telling him. Just one. Just once.

But were one to present herself at this very moment before him, tail lifted to display her slit for his pleasure, he would only be able to look at her in anguish...for she would be competition, and there would be two dragons seeking a male to mount them.

The night was only midway through, but the dragon could not lie still any longer. Physical activity was the only thing that provided a small measure of relief from the infernal neediness. He dragged himself to his feet, feeling the fluids escape his slit and run down one leg, and stepped out into the moist spring air. The warmth of the breeze was like ice against his scales; his internal heat a lusty furnace that mere nature could not challenge. With a shake of his head to try and clear those thoughts, he spread his wings, rose on his rear legs, and began to flap.

Gigantic muscles strained to pull his enormous mass away from the ground, rippling under his skin like breakers. He opened his jaw wide to suck air down, feeding the engines of his wings and shoulders, each woosh of the broad, skin-covered flaps throwing whirlwinds of dust out to either side. As his pace accelerated, his weight seemed to lessen until at last, he rose into the air with a grand and ponderous motion. The dust on his scales whipped away in the frenzy of wind that surrounded him, moonlight shining off every oil-glistened scale. He was magnificent: a dragon of power and pride, master of all he surveyed, commander of his skies and the earth below.

And yet, the unseen weight of his need felt like a real thing between his legs. As though the flaps of his slit had swollen further, and he now carried between his legs two milk-full dugs, plump and ready to be suckled...

He roared to dispel the heady thoughts of another dragon's muzzle buried in his crotch and swept higher into the sky. His state of rut accentuated his sense of smell--the better to find a mate--and his keen sense of sight was thus now compounded by the smells of the things he witnessed. On a hillside he swept over vastly, shadowing it for only a moment: a rabbit warren. The stink of their breeding could have woken the dead. In a narrow isthmus he followed for a time, dolphins swam and mated with abandon. But in the skies? Nothing. He flew through the pale night like a ship upon a boundless sea, and though he spread his nostrils and drew in mighty breaths, there was no hint of dragon scent. None but his own. He roared again and again: now with hope, and now anger, and finally despair.

But as he prepared to return home...a new scent called to him.

His neck whipped around, nostrils flared, targeting the source of the smell instantly. Impossible hope surged in him, and he banked, turning sharply to re-orient himself, wings beating frantically to hurl him through the air. It was not a dragon's scent...but it was an invitation. He followed it in blind desperation until he gyred above the source: a rocky mountain hillside where a herd of horses grazed.

As his shadow fell over them, they raised their heads in surprise, watching the flying form with alerted ears. When the dragon began to descend--carelessly spilling the air from his wings, dropping with alarming swiftness--they fled, neighing in consternation and alarm. He barely registered that; his nose pointed at the source of the scent he'd tracked, and that had not moved at all. His bulk dropped down towards it, down towards the earth...

Faster than he should.

The huge reptile landed hard, with all the grace of a vessel wrecking itself upon a shoreline. Clods of dirt flew from his feet as he clawed frantically for purchase, his unspent momentum hurtling him towards his target. Behind him, horses screamed, and hooves thudded against the earth as the herd fled. The dragon roared in consternation as he struggled to come to a halt, beating his wings madly against the air, throwing grass and dust before him in a vast screen that enveloped the singular horse that stood ahead of him.

His powerful hind legs kicked furrows into the ground, bringing him to a halt just before his bulk would have obliterated the frozen horse. His motion reigned in, he took a moment to breathe, gulping down air as he folded his wings back against his body. Then it only took a few hard snorts to dispel the dust in front of him and revealed a sole horse, standing as if nothing untoward had occurred. Staring at him.

It was the only equine that hadn't fled his arrival, and the dragon eyed him carefully, then sniffed, tasting the same scent he'd picked up while flying. The divine smell was that of stallion, then. A completely different scent, yet familiar: this male was also in rut. The musk of male in the air--one that was not his own, at last--was a thing of glory. He had been drawn here by the smell of aroused stallion. Did the stallion, in turn, remain where he was because of the scent of a horny dragon?

The dragon stared at the horse a moment longer, then walked closer.

The equine's ears perked in the dragon's direction, and shivers ran across its flanks, but it made no move to flee. As the dragon got closer, the horse turned to present his side. More than just his side, though: the dragon could now clearly see that between the horse's thighs hung a heavy, hard cock. Pitch black against the copper of the stallion's fur, it arched down from a taut sheath to almost reach the ground, bobbing and twitching as the stallion tugged upon his muscles. The smell of it was ravishing, and the dragon felt his own cock twitching in its slit at the sight and smell of the horse's thickness and length. The much smaller equine had a member that was a match for his own in size; how tremendous. And so clearly showing off for the dragon...

As if he'd read the dragon's mind, the stallion's cock jerked upwards to slap firmly against his belly. The dragon snorted hard at the sexual noise, opening his mouth to breathe more pheromones over the stallion. The equine responded with another slap, and the reptile grinned. What more obvious invitation could he hope for?

The dragon turned and lifted his tail high, swinging it back and forth to waft his most powerful scent towards the stallion. A whinny exploded immediately behind him, followed by a thud of hooves against the ground, and the dragon smiled a toothy grin. He continued to swing his tail, letting the motion tug his slit wide to impregnate the air around them with his overpowering musk. He did not know what the stallion would do, but he had some hope he would--

A nose pushed against his opened slit--hard--and snorted, sucking up the smell of the eager reptile.

The dragon's legs almost crumpled at the feeling, and he groaned in abject need. That simple contact of skin on skin was more than he'd been able to do to himself for days--weeks! An intense wave of pleasure erupted from his crotch, skittering up along his spine and making him shake his wings in uncontrolled pleasure. When a tongue succeeded the nose--lapping against his slit from top to bottom--the dragon's eyes rolled up into his head, and one front leg did buckle, dropping his front heavily onto the ground. The tongue behind him only lapped harder, sucking up every drop of his genital lubricant as if it was ambrosia. Perhaps, for a stallion, they were.

The licking continued, reaching deeper inside the dragon on each stroke as the horse sought out the most pungent taste of him. It was not long before he was licking the surface of the dragon's member itself. Its rough surface seemed to give the horse pause for a moment -- but lust was apparently stronger than suspicion, and the equine's talented tongue soon stroked along the nubs and ridges of the half-hard dragon penis inside the slit as if it were the most delectable salt lick.

The dragon lay as if stunned, each touch of the equine's wide, warm tongue on his most sensitive areas sending electricity throughout his form. It was exquisite. He could smell the stallion's own growing excitement, and in his mind could imagine it dripping from that handsome penis, wetting the earth beneath even as the stallion devoured as much of the dragon's taste as he could. The ecstasy of his relief made the dragon start to rumble, his form shivering with pleasure like an enormous cat, and for a time there was no sound beyond the rumbling of the reptile and the wet and sloppy licking of a long stallion tongue.

When the stallion had smoothed away the most jagged edges of his lust, and the dragon could think once more, he pushed himself to all fours and turned to meet his lover's face. The horse was very handsome, with an imperious look to his eyes, a mane like thick-woven flax, and a snow-white blaze that shone in the moonlight. The dragon churred at the equine, his cavernous chest turning the sound into a force that shook the ground they stood on, and the equine nickered lustfully in return. Desire hung about him yet, like a smoky cloud that the dragon could all but see. Two careful steps forward brought him alongside the equine, and he lowered his head to reach beneath the horse. The stallion's penis hung before him, pre-cum dribbling from the end. The reptile stared in lust for a moment longer, then lapped at the dripping tip with his rough, forked tongue.

The stallion squealed at the touch and danced back, but did not go far. The dragon churred at him again, enticing him to return, and he did. The equine cock had grown harder from that touch and remained standing where he was when the dragon did it again, his only motion a shiver in his flanks and mane. The second taste was as marvellous as the first; the male's fluids were thick, the taste heady. Horse musk filled the dragon's nostrils as he drank of his lover's gift. Had there been enough of it, he could sup on it for days. But for now, this little would do.

The dragon's tongue lapped up along the shaft, curling around its thickness to tighten and feel its strength. It rose again from there, reaching up into the folds of the horse's sheath and the balls below. The musk was even headier there, and the dragon lost himself in exploring them for a while. Once thoroughly licked clean, he slid back down to the flare for a final taste of the other male's pre-cum. The stallion tasted excellent, and the sight of his throbbing penis made the dragon's belly churn--but this was only a befriending. It was not enough; he remained unsatisfied.

The dragon turned away again, offering his rump to the stallion once more, but lowering his rear legs to reduce his height. With his tail lifted and pulled to one side, his slit was exposed as best he could manage. He hoped the stallion would understand.

He did.

With a whinny, two strong legs thudded against the dragon's lower back. The angle was a little awkward, the horse's flank pressing against the unavoidable mass of the dragon's tail. But that didn't matter; the reptile could feel the blunt, wet tip of the horse's cock skittering this way and that over the dragon's fine belly scales. He seemed unable to find his mark on the unfamiliar anatomy. The dragon growled in frustration, shifting his haunches as best he could to try and capture his lover's cock without simply hurling the horse backwards. The flare slipped across one engorged flap: so close! If he lowered one leg just a little bit more...

With a scream of triumph from the stallion, and a roar of ecstasy from the dragon, sixteen inches of stallion penis was swallowed by the dragon's ever-hungry slit.

Their organs meshed as if made for one another, the firm, supple flesh of the stallion's organ sliding between the dragon's buried penis and the walls of his cloaca. Roughness to one side, silkiness to the other. The horse could not have experienced anything like it, and the dragon hoped fiercely that it pleasured him more than any mare ever had.

For his part, he had only ever had other dragons within him, and their penises were as rough as his own. The stallion, by contrast, was like a soft caress. He was thrusting madly already: his instincts had completely dominated him the instant he felt his cock surrounded by flesh. Its thickness was enough that the dragon felt as though he was being masturbated within himself, with the strong male organ spreading his slit wide with every push of the powerful thighs behind it.

The dragon was expressing his own fluids in volume now, his body blindly responding to his mind's heightened arousal. The cock fucking him glided through a wash of their combined liquids, milky horse pre-cum mixing with golden dragon lubricant. The horse snorted hard above him, desperate to push deeper, but unable to. He was at full hilt; not much of his member could still be outside the dragon, but the stallion strained to bury the final inch. His horny nickers and hot snorts were thrilling to the dragon, and the reptile could feel his body prepare itself for orgasm as the horse rampantly pounded in and out of his slit.

The stallion's mad thrusting had become more uneven; he, too, must be close. The dragon recalled the heaviness of the balls he'd lapped under the stallion's thighs, imagining how much seed they held...all of which was about to be shot into him. His cock jerked at that, nestled inside his slit in a growing sea of fluids. The dragon had not grown hard throughout the experience. He didn't need to--not for this stallion. This gorgeous hung male was welcome to keep fucking the dragon's wet slit as if the reptile was just another one of his mares, eager to be filled with stallion seed. So very, very eager...and the dragon was confident that the chthonic heat inside him would shame any mare.

Only a stallion's cum could quench that flame now.

One.

The horse's orgasm arrived unexpectedly, with a rush of semen which flooded the dragon's slit with a wet slap, rebounding off his inner depths and squirting back out. Hot seed ran down the dragon's taint, and he growled in wonder. One shot, one blast from this stallion, this god of sex, had filled the dragon. How many more did he have left?

Two.

There was far too much cum to be contained by the dragon's cloaca; it flowed out of the reptile in great wet blobs and splattered onto the ground like white honey. The heat of it surrounded his cock like the moist insides of another male, making him shudder and cry out as he crested, adding his own contribution to the growing sea inside himself.

Three. Four.

Each pulse of the stallion's cock made the male's bulging flare swell further, scraping across the interior of the reptile's quivering cloaca and teasing another dribble of cum from his now-flaccid cock. The dragon's sensitivity after orgasm was immense, and he growled at the borderline-painful feeling of the enormous mass of stallion prick still inside him, shifting and pressing as the horse jerked the final few squirts of his seed inside the dragon. Yet, had the horse attempted to withdraw it now, the dragon would have fought to hold it in.

Five. Six. Seven...

The stallion's balls ran dry at last. The horse breathed heavily atop his dragon mate, belly warm and close against him. His withdrawal was wonderful agony: the dragon's puffy lips closed tight on the gift his mate left inside him, their edges now swollen not from engorgement, but being stretched wide by the horny stallion's prick. The sweaty legs propped up on the dragon's back fell away, and with a thud, the stallion was back on all fours.

The dragon turned to look at him, taking in the sight of the loose, limp cock sliding back up into its sheath, and the sweat that now glistened on the stallion's copper fur in the moonlight, making him seem polished to a sheen. He had performed admirably; the dragon could feel the flame within him lessen, cooled to quiescence by the stallion seed sloshing about. A small drip leaked out from the edges of his slit, but no more: the gift would be safe until he could fly home.

He could not bear any colts for the stallion--nor any male--but he could dream of it. With his rut relegated from an all-consuming blaze to a satisfyingly dull throb at the base of his slit, he could spend a little time indulging himself. He'd lie on his back for a while, letting his dick swim about in the remains of the horse's seed before allowing himself to harden fully...letting it all spill out over his belly. If he angled his body exactly right, he might get it to drip up his belly to within range of his tongue...

The horse stepped back as the dragon lifted himself to his hind legs, wings battering the air. His eyes followed the colossal animal's rise into the sky, his curve around, and his slow disappearance into the distance.

The herd returned once the dragon had left, but only one other horse approached him: another stallion. They stared at one another for a moment, and then the other stallion snickered in an entire unequine manner.

"I don't fucking believe it," he said.

The first stallion smirked in return, tossing his mane proudly. "Told you so," he replied.

"He just went for it like...fuuuuck. Think he knows you're a shapeshifter?"

"Doubt it. He basically only had eyes for my dick, and I made sure that was accurate. I really had to pump up the pheromones to make sure he caught a whiff, though."

The second horse giggled. "You're such a slut." His own dick had dropped, firm and bouncing under his belly. "Was fun to watch, though. You really nailed him. I thought you rammed that merman good last week, but you went to town on that boy's slit."

"He was tight. Merman was all fish-loose and cold...dragons are like a furnace down there. And so wet..."

"Mmmmh...making me jealous now."

"You can try him next. We can do...um...hippogriffs? Or just horses again. Draggy's got a taste for horsedick now, he won't be able to resist a second go."

"Hippogriff sounds good...but that's a real challenge. All those feathers? I hate concentrating when I'm fucking."

"Trust me, just slap a horsecock on the form, and he won't notice if your feathers are made of twigs and mice bones."

"Oh, really? Well, then..."

The other horses stared over at the two strangers to their herd making unexpected noises at one another, then returned to grazing. It had been a difficult day, and stallions were--after all--very strange.