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Everyone told Mitch his job sucked. He went to a fancy university, got a fancy diploma, and just ended up at a cubicle, slaving away at his keyboard. His non work-friends made fun of him for it. His family kept checking in to make sure he was not irredeemably depressed. Mitch was sick and tired of it all.

"Friday morning, the third of the month" Mitch's phone read upon unlocking. A grin grew across his face. Casual Friday! His favorite day of the week. His favorite workday of the workweek. The tall equine sauntered over to his closet. He stripped down from his comfortable pajamas. Looking in the mirror, he smiled. The horse had a white stripe down his face, peach fuzz colored fur that turned darker brown near the end of his limbs. Just his naked form alone was enough to rouse his properly equine cock to poke from its sheath. Oh yes, he had been preparing all week for this, just like every other week. This week, however, he had gone out and gotten something extra special to commemorate the occasion.

Mitch's tailor gave him the strangest look. Sure, the hyena holding his scissors in one hand and a measuring tape in the other set both materials down and took a seat on an ornate ottoman with fancy white silk embroidery. A job was a job, and by the Gods, he was going to do it. Adept hands set upon their work. Measure, measure, cut, measure. It took hours. Afternoon became evening. Then when all was said and done, Mitch proudly donned the new clothing: formal slacks that were made with carefully carved holes in the crotch and butt of the pants. The skilled hyena stood proud of his work. It may have been unorthodox but the uncontainable happiness beaming from the equine's face planted this creation in the hyena's list of favorite projects. However, there was still a hitch. The pants would just not stay up on the horse. Mitch's voluptuous rump found no grip on the pants. They were made with a hole over the ass after all. Joy turned to despair.

The horse slumped against a soft chair while his hyena accomplice lay flat on the ground. The yeen idly grasped at pieces of cut cloth from the pants. His vision narrowed on the striped, blue cloth, an exact match with the material in the suit top. He let out a low, unintelligible cackle as he grabbed more of the cloth and rushed over to a workbench. Scissors, pins, and thread flew. When Mitch awoke from his sudden nap to a feeling of his shoulder being jostled, his glossy eyes opened to a new special belt made from material for the suit and pants that would rest higher than usual, allowing easy access to both ends still but ensuring the pants remained attached. With suspicion, the equine slipped on the pants and clipped the belt in. It worked! Stretching, bending, twisting, walking, sitting, the pants stayed on! "I can't believe it! You did it! Oh my gosh, I am so fucking grateful. Please, name a price, you deserve as big a tip as you want," the equine beamed.

The sly hyena grinned back and gave a simple reply "Oh no tip for me, I just want a flare."

The yeen's fingers dug into the horse's exposed sheath. "We have to test if it works for its designed purpose, right?" With a gulp and a nod, Mitch sealed his fate. He groaned and grunted, his sheath was a prison, trapping his needy cock inside when all it wanted to do was grow and escape. The hyena's fingers sought to prevent such a jailbreak for now at least. "Oh sorry, Mitch," the hyena cackled, "fingers stopping my reward? I'm sorry but your strong Friday afternoon scent smells purely of sex and cum. Working with that around drove me mad, especially when I could see your goods the entire time. As for these fingers though, I know where they might not get in the way." He took both his protruding digits out of the equine's sheath gathering the precum from the already drooling, blunt, equine cockhead and gently pushed Mitch down onto the floor, keeping his knees bent and hole visible. The yeen swiftly and mercilessly dug both lubricated fingers into the equine's donut shaped hole. He pushed deeper and deeper, feeling around the horse's tight walls. Mitch's growing cock sprang to attention. The hyena smirked; he had lured out his prize fully. Gently retracting his fingers, he stepped over Mitch, straddling one leg to each side of the horse. As Mitch opened his mouth to say he knew what was about to happen and it was more than okay, the hyena put one of the fingers from the Mitch's ass to his mouth, the universal sign for "Shhh don't ruin this" before licking it clean. The hyena grabbed Mitch's stiff horsecock and lined it up with his own anus. "Let's see if you're as big as the zebra toys I practice with," he proposed before sliding down to take Mitch's unflared head inside. It is never easy to take a horse, but only a few pained grunts escaped the hyena's lips. Most certainly Mitch's abundant and easily coaxed precum, a genetic issue that was not a fun conversation with his doctor, must have eased the process quite drastically. What was certainly obvious though was that the yeen was not lying when he said he had been practicing with some very large toys. A slow and steady bob up and down the horse's shaft with a consistent rhythm and increasing depth were dead giveaways that this was not the hyena's first rodeo. As the hyena rode the horse bareback, Mitch couldn't help but buck his hips as the snug ass that was right on his cock felt like it was making an escape. Bounce, bounce, bounce, lower and lower and lower, the hyena slid down Mitch's dick. As the rim of the yeen's asshole finally slipped over his medial ring, Mitch could hold back no longer. Out of pure need, he grasped a hand on each respective shoulder of the hyena and gave a weak yet irresistible push downwards, forcing the hyena to *almost* hilt him before he let loose. His tennis ball sized sack churned and twitched as it sent cups of delightfully hot semen up into the powerbottom milking him. The yeen's legs gave out as his weight was supported purely by the horse below him. The two rolled over and lay on the ground together, close, and intimate, for quite a while before the unmistakable sound of a rumbling belly reminded the pair that they hadn't quite had their dinner for the day. Without changing clothes due to pure lack of energy, Mitch took his surprisingly still decently clean suit, paid his tab, and walked out to his car amid the dinner rush crowd with his cum-covered cock bouncing in the wind as his somewhat loosened donut gave all the furs watching him walk away quite the show. Fuck what a Friday night that was.

Now, a few hours short of a week later, it was time to debut the suit in its actual purpose environment: casual Friday at the office. Mitch hopped out of his car with an abnormal pep in his step. It was a bit chilly and he was missing cloth in key areas for warmth after all. He worked for a very niche banking firm which had this separate location designated for his department. As per his boss's request, the entire department was made up of men he hand-selected. They had undergone rigorous personality questioning and tests to ensure that they would be a great fit for the company.

This morning was unusually quiet for casual Friday. Normally a bunch of the other guys were already having fun, kicking back, and licking their lips. It was a period of downtime between major projects overall so it would be safe to assume that many of the guys weren't coming.

Mitch found his way to his desk unharried and settled in. He typed away at his keyboard, making progress on what had stumped him the day before. Excel spreadsheets were configured, database analytics were crunched, and now he could focus on... a whistle behind him. He spun around in his chair. In front of him stood Barry, the polar bear accountant in the department wearing a dinosaur onesie. "What do you want, Barry."

"Oh nothing, Mitch. You just keep up the good work, you fine piece of ass hehe."

Barry trotted off without another word, presumably to the water cooler. Mitch was never his biggest fan but not everyone at the office had to get along. Everyone loved the boss, however. Mitch could think of him right now: a dreamy, chiseled, skunk with a distinctly but not overpowering masculine aroma that followed him around. A smell that made everyone feel welcome as if walking into a home to fresh baked goods. Every worker would say they smelt something different. It even changed day to day for the same person. The day of Mitch's annual performance report, he was sure the entire office smelt of freshly harvested apples. Every Friday however, Mitch swore the office smelt of wet jockstraps with a hint of fresh sex. Given his activities on Friday, Mitch could not blame all of that on the boss. Not that he would anyways, he loved that smell. Today was much the same, a deep inhale confirmed. Mitch's package stirred at the delightful scent, growing to nearly full size, bobbing up and down. His mind faded away, imagining more of his black and white boss. The skunk was a tall man but not a large man. For .... reasons, Mitch knew that his boss didn't quite have a six pack but had quite the trim figure. Not too muscular, yet not all bones as well, a bit thicker in the chest than himself. His boss had emerald green eyes that gazed into one's soul but with a pleading appearance letting all those who look him in the eye know everything will be just alright. The skunk had a massive tail that acted as a second shadow. It was the same color as the rest of his fur but somehow much softer. So soft, you would pay to use it as a pillow. Mitch could practically feel the individual strands of fur and wonderful texture as he rubbed the tail against his face, burying his muzzle deep into the tail. It all felt so real.

"Ahem," a deep but calming voice interjected. "I think you have my tail, Mitch."

"Oh- oh my goodness I'm so sorry boss. I don't know what came over me. I'll make it up to you later today. I'll stay late. My sincerest apologies!"

"Shhh, Mitch it's okay. I can see you were hard at work anyways," the skunk reached a hand down and grabbed Mitch's mostly erect horsecock before giving it a little squeeze and prodding the tip for a dollop of precum to lick clean. "Nice suit by the way. My favorite casual Friday wear today for sure. You know what that means! You can make up for nabbing my tail now."

The skunk's tail pulled itself away from the horse's face and lowered itself before wrapping round and round the horse's chest. It crawled up his form, soaking away every bit of indecision and anxiety. With a gentle nudge from the appendage, Mitch was told to stand up from his chair. The boss grinned and slid his hands across the equine's exposed fur before toying with his sheath and pulling his asshole's rim at the same time. Mitch let out a quiet moan and tapped his hooves on the ground. The boss's tail tightened as if to say "Stay right there" as the skunk made himself just as casual as Mitch, taking off his sweatpants and sweatshirt revealing a fresh looking jockstrap. Left foot raised, then right foot raised, then the jockstrap was off. His boss stood in front of him, naked. The skunk's pink, fleshy dick was longer than almost everyone else at the office, but it wasn't quite as big as the equine's to no-one's surprise. Where the skunk excelled though was in his tennis-ball sized testicles. It made sense considering he had the cajones to operate a business with every Friday designated to some form of debauchery.

The skunk swung his jockstrap around in his hand playfully while snagging Mitch's office chair with his foot and took a seat in the chair, his erection pointing right up to the ceiling, his balls covering the front of the chair. The tail around Mitch's body lessened its grip. "Would you like to have a seat at your workstation, my equine employee," his boss said in the most professional voice one can muster with their cock and balls on full display.

"Top drawer, please," the stallion replied. He lined his equine rump up with the skunk's lap as his boss opened the top drawer to find a quarter full bottle of lube.

"Promise I'll comp you for this," the skunk giggled as he poured the entire remainder of the bottle on his large prick. "Now, sit." Mitch reached back and spread his cheeks to ease the process which combined with the copious amount of lube was not as painful as expected. But that was just the tip. If he wanted to be able to work at his desk without his legs giving out, he had to shift his wait on top of the skunk and take all of that big dick. Tongue biting, horsecock throbbing, Mitch inched his way down and down until a wet *plop* and increase in the musky aroma signified an end to this trial. "One last thing before you get to work. I know it's not everyone's thing, but you seemed to be eyeing this jockstrap I was wearing. It's clean but still heavily smells like my junk... Would you like to wear it on your face?" The horse let out a moaning whimper of affirmation as the skunk snugly secured the strap to Mitch's muzzle, taking extra care to not block the equine's field of view. "Now I know I don't pay you just to take dick, stallion. Let's see you get some work done."

It was so terribly hard for Mitch to concentrate. Every press of a key, every swift motion of the mouse reminded him that his boss was deep inside him. Not to mention the smell of his boss's musk overpowering his focus. And that was just the first 15 minutes. The next 15 minutes added on the skunk's tail rubbing parts of Mitch he couldn't see but could feel perfectly well. When the stallion tried to turn to face this new sensation, he was just twisting around on his boss's cock. His own dick throbbing in pleasure every time he fell for it didn't help him wise up to the trick either. At the half hour mark, with barely any work done, the skunk put his head on the horse's shoulder and whispered sensually, "Guess we'll just have to go for a different type of productivity." The skunk wrapped both his arms around Mitch and began slowly lifting up and bucking his hips. "Eyes forward, hands on the keys." So, Mitch worked. He typed and slaved away at his keyboard while his beautifully musky boss of a skunk fucked Mitch with his humanoid 7-inch dick and his clean but intoxication jockstrap stuck tied to the horse's head. Mitch loved it. There was a steady stream of horse precum drooling from his throbbing horsecock and forming a lake below his desk. Time lost all meaning to him, he was just doing his job and loving it. The thrusts sped up. The sweat and smell thickened. The sounds behind Mitch grew in volume. His boss was close.

"I'm ready to file your deposit, sir," the equine stammered out in-between needy breaths. With a click of the mouse and a hot spurt of seed below, the spreadsheet read that the deposit was received. Of course for a skunk with massive balls, one spurt was not the end of the matter. The two were locked together in ecstasy for what felt like an hour. Mitch's insides burned with desire and semen while his office chair and his boss's lap received a fresh white coating.

Eventually, when Mitch's boss slipped out from underneath him and steadied himself, he pet the horse along the bridge of his face lovingly before asking, "Is there anything else I can do for you before you head home for the weekend, Mitch?"

The horse readjusted himself, placing his gaping donut in the gap between the seat and the backrest of his office chair so that the steady stream of skunk sperm, could rest upon the ground and anyone who walked by could see the result of their tryst. The horse chuckled, "It says here every employee should make a deposit and get it verified here, so I will handle my own later so I can stay hard at work here. But would you mind sending every other guy in the department here to file theirs away? Oh, and may I please keep this jockstrap, sir?"

The skunk gave a hearty laugh. "Yes, you may. I'm sure all the guys will love this treat too." The skunk pumped the chair up bit by bit, checking his groin's height to get it perfectly set up for the next employee to slide in between the chair pieces and between the stallion's cheeks.

"One last thing, boss. Tell Barry he can make his deposit in the mail."