FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

“Well… shit!" Artax exclaimed to himself as plumes of smoke started to erupt from the engine of his rental car. It had been making unhappy noises for the last hour, but he had hoped it would still make it to Sweetwater. That hope had clearly been unfounded, though he really had little other option, this road led only to one place and there was nothing behind him for thirty miles or more, and nothing ahead of him but the town, just another ten miles and he could have at least phoned for assistance in whatever comfort the tiny little bumfuck town could offer.

Pulling over, the horse grabbed his mobile and got out. Popping the hood of the car to give the clouds of, what he fervently hoped was just steam, an escape route. The equine shook his head, his white mane shimmered in the heat of the Louisiana summer sun. His nostrils filled with the scent of the swamps and forests, located on either side of the long and very lonely, pothole-filled, road. He had not seen another car since he had turned onto the road.

That was not a surprise, when his boss had given him this assignment he had done a quick Google search on the town. With such an unoriginal name it had taken a little while to actually find which one was right. Town might be a generous term for what it was, a street with delusions of grandeur, might be a more appropriate description. It did have a motel, cafe, shop and, most importantly, a garage. Artax just hoped he would be able to get a tow quickly. This close to the swamp he might run into a non-morphic alligator, and he did not trust the shitty rental car to fend off the attack of a determined and angry mouse, let alone a large hungry reptile.

On the plus side, his work did have a policy that all rental car deals needed to include roadside assistance as standard. So a phone call later he felt a little reassured. At least he did after he talked the operator into believing the road he was on did in fact exist and that there was a town called Sweetwater which had a garage.

As time went on, the slender equine climbed into the backseat of the car, laying down on it to hide from the heat of the sun. His white tank top was plastered to his fur with his own sweat, and his white shorts were feeling distinctly moist as well. The equine hoped that the motel had two things, good AC in the rooms and great showers too. He planned to abuse both.

At least he had the good sense to have bought a large bottle of water for the trip. So he lay back and browsed the case file while sipping on water that was getting warmer by the minute. Sweetwater was just to be the base of operations, the equine was an ecologist and his company had been hired to support a case against a mining company. It was the same old story, a campaign group accused a business of malfeasance and the business group produced a bunch of reports to show how, no they are totally innocent.

Artax was sent to investigate because the government was far too busy to investigate every single report. An excuse that ran a red flag for the equine. Not that government employees were not overworked, but if the photos the campaigners had sent were from the location then his eyes already told him there was iron in that water. Orange algal blooms were a dead giveaway. Though the counter reports showed the river running without them, could mean an intermittent problem or old photos from the environmentalist side.

A few other red flags went off when he scanned the mine company's survey methodology. Campaigners, companies, journalists, politicians and the public always look at the results and conclusions, while actual scientists always check the method first. Results can be meaningless if the method is flawed. Another couple of small red flags were raised, but nothing conclusive, the method could be defended but was far from perfect. Artax knew that if he wanted to find nothing but still be able to argue he had looked he would have designed a similar methodology.

His attention was distracted from the report by the sounds of an engine. The horse sat up in the backseat just in time to see a tow truck chugging into view. Artax prepared himself mentally for the first interaction with the locals. His experience had taught him to keep his job as close to his chest as possible. He would need to book a boat, and someone as a guide to the swamp. Things the Sweetwater Motel had boasted as part of their amenities. However, locals were often split into two partisan camps; some would hate him because their jobs were reliant on the mines, while others would want to influence him because they did not like the thought of their land and drinking water being polluted. Artax just wanted to collect the data with minimal contact, less chance for someone to argue he was partisan in any way.

The tow truck was a beat-up old vehicle, with a driver to match. A large-bellied gator man was behind the wheel, the horse stuck up a white hand, his fetlocks waving in the breeze as he gestured; as if there was a possibility the gator could miss the only broken down car and driver on the small road.

Artax was a little shocked when the truck drove right past him, but a second later it stopped and turned, performing a u-turn in a large truck that Artax would not have risked in the small rental car he was driving. Then it drove back and parked up just in front of his car. The gator jumped down from the truck's cab and landed with a loud thump, “Bonjour, you broke down, yes?" The gator was big, Artax was a good six-six and the mechanic was at least a head or more taller. Broader at the shoulders and definitely at the belly too. Wearing just some beat-up jeans and nothing else, not even shoes.

“Hello, er yes, sorry," the equine replied, noting the strong accent. Artax knew he should not be that surprised given where he was. “It started making a few sounds a couple of miles back and it just died when I got here."

“Well, you just let me have a look see,“ answered the gator stepping forward and bending over the car's engine. Artax tried to keep his eyes on the car, as the gator's jeans slid down a little low, exposing the base of his chunky tail. He was not sure how old the guy was, maybe early fifties or late forties. Artax knew that looks were not always a good way to judge, some people start looking forty at twenty and carry on looking that way into their seventies. “Oh, dat engine's broke, broke." The gator snorted. “You want a tow to Sweetwater, yes?"

Given that was where his room was booked and where he needed to be for the next week or so, it seemed the best option. The other choice was to ask the big gator to tow him to the nearest big town. Which seemed like a bit of an insult when the guy clearly worked in the Sweetwater garage, because that was printed on the side of the truck.

“Yes, please, Mr…" The horse paused as he realised he had neither gotten the gator's name nor given his own.

“Noah, Noah Hathaway," the gator replied with a friendly grin and holding out a huge, only slightly greasy hand.

Artax took the hand and yelped slightly as the gator nearly shook it off, “Artax Coal. Pleased to meet you."

The gator let go of his hand and moved to his truck, “ah'll get your car hooked up. Get up in da truck, I have the AC on, yes."

“Oh! Thank you, you're a godsend!" Artax replied joyfully. After what felt like hours, but was probably only an hour at most, of the Louisiana summer heat, he was desperate for anything even remotely cool. A moment later he leapt right up into the passenger seat of the cab, closing the door after him and gave a delighted soft neigh as the cool air hit him instantly. His wet tank and shorts added to the cooling effect. Behind him, he heard the sounds of the gator getting the car hooked up.

A few minutes later the door opened and a blast of warm air woke him from the cooling snooze. The entire truck rocked as the large gator climbed up into the driver's seat. “All set, Mr Coal. It's just a short drive."

“Artax is fine, or just Artie, if you prefer Mr Hathaway," the white equine replied, lounging back comfortably in the air-conditioned cab. After driving for so many hours being driven the rest of the way was a bit of a relief. Especially on such a narrow and bumpy road. The Gator did not seem to have any troubles, he drove like he knew every single pothole personally, and from the French curse words he uttered as he hit one, Artax suspected it was very much a hate-hate relationship. Feeling the need for companionship after such a long lonely drive he decided to see if he could spark up a conversation, “So, have you lived in Sweetwater long?"

“Long time, yes. All my life, and call me Noah, Cher," the gator replied, his smooth cajun accent coming out stronger. Artax quite liked it, it was nice and musical. Although he also hoped it did not get much stronger, or turn into full Cajun because he got a d minus in French and the only thing he really remembered was the kiss and the fries.

“Alright, Noah. So all your life, you must know the swamps pretty well," the equine said. He knew he was slipping into business talk, and the last thing he wanted was everyone in town knowing why he was there. However, from his past experiences with small-town America he knew that was a distinct possibility especially as he would need a local guide and to hire a boat. Taking water samples and the like tended to give the game away. Still, local knowledge was a useful resource, and right before anyone knew why he was there was the best time to harvest it because it would be a somewhat tainted well to draw from later.

“Dat's right, yes," Noah replied, giving him a sideways grin that only a shark could ever hope to outdo. So much sharp ivory pointed in his direction and yet with a warm, friendly expression. “Every stream and every tree, I knows them, well well. A course der used to be more when I was younger."

“I think that goes for everywhere," sighed the horse, glancing out of the window. “Everything green is all subject to the only green thing in charge, the almighty dollar."

“Not in Sweetwater, Cher, da only green thing in charge der is driving this truck," the gator replied with a heartening chuckle. Artax found himself joining in, at least the gator had a sense of humour. Though there had been a sadness in his voice when he had said the swamps were smaller. Artax remembered the last time he had gone home to the rural town he grew up in. It had grown so much that the houses had spilt into the fields and woods that he had played in as a colt. It had been strange to walk down old paths, ones he had known like the back of his hand as a kid and feel like a stranger.

Outside the window, he saw the town appearing from the green. In a street of houses, he could see a small garage at the far end, with an attached shop. No doubt Noah's place of work. Just across the street was the Sweetwater Motel, a bed and breakfast. It was tiny even by small-town standards. Two floors high and just a few rooms long. There couldn't be more than a dozen rooms there.

However, it was not what was in the town that caught his attention. It was what was missing, people. Every house was shut, the grass in the front gardens long, wild and untamed. Every Driveway was empty and overgrown. They had passed a sign which had given the population as fifty-six. Artax suspected that the sign had not been updated for many years. They did not pass a single soul as they drove right up to the garage and the truck parked beside it.

“If you want to get down with me, you can get situated, cher," Noah said. His voice cut through the pure silence that surrounded them. For a moment the equine wondered exactly what the gator was saying, but the huge reptile opened the door and jumped out before he could ask.

Taking a deep breath and trying to ignore the tingles running up his spine, he stepped out into the ghost town. “You want to make groceries first, or check in at da motel?"

Artax frowned for a moment until he realised that Noah was asking if he wanted to go to the shop. “Guess, I should probably get checked in, see if the motel has any food on."

“Does you like gumbo?" Noah asked, while the equine moved to the trunk of the rental car and retrieved his bags.

“I… err, have never had it, so I dunno," Artax replied, as he slung his bag over his shoulder and began to walk towards the motel. He was about to say goodbye when he noticed the gator was walking with him. The large reptile beat him by a few steps to the reception door of the motel and pushed it open. The lobby was clean and tidy, but much like the rest of the town it was missing something, people. Noah moved behind the counter and the horse paused, “You… run the motel too?"

“Dat's right, cher," the gator replied and gave him a wink. “Got your booking here, you want an upper or lower floor room?"

A sudden realisation hit the horse when the gator had asked if he wanted to go to the shop or motel first, Noah was just trying to figure out what business he needed to open first. “Noah… how many jobs do you do in this town?"

Noah's face split into a slightly embarrassed grin, “Well, I run the garage, shop, motel, do handyman work, I'm the cook and cleaner too, technically I'm the mayor, sheriff, garbage man and I'm a qualified electrical engineer. I'm the pool boy, tour guide and boat driver."

“So nobody else in town works here?" Artax asked astounded. In small towns, it was not unusual for people to have more than one job. However, Noah was pushing the limits.

“Der's nobody else left in town, Cher. Last family moved out two years ago, when their farm closed down. Cattle got poisoned, bad bad." The gator admitted, glancing down at the small motel log-in book. Artax's eyes could not help but notice there were less than a dozen entries on the page. He wondered how much of the time the gator spent in the ghost town, just by himself. “Upper or ground floor, cher?" There was a very slight pleading in the gator's tone this time, and Artax wondered just how many guests left the moment they realised they were staying in a township of one.

“Ground floor," he replied, and suddenly another thought occurred. “I… would like to try some gumbo, if that's what the town's top chef recommends."

“That he does, it's his grandmama's recipe, best in town," a title that Artax had absolute certainty was fully honest. As he replied the gator pulled out a keyring with a single key on it. “Room's got AC, the summer here gets hot hot. Pool's open twenty-four hours, but close the gate, lest feral gators wander in."

Artax took the key and was just about to agree to try the gumbo when a noise from outside made them both turn. The sound of a car, in any other town it would have just been background noise, but in Sweetwater it clearly was not a common event. “Other guests?" The horse asked.

The gator gave him a strange look, “If dey is, dey didn't book a stay. I will go and check, yes." Noah replied, pulling his jeans up a little to cover a bit more of his exposed torso. Artax could not help but wander out after the gator, just for a look. A black car had pulled right into the motel's small parking lot. Two occupants were getting out, both dressed in black suits, a male lion and a female rabbit. Noah was approaching them both at speed. There was something in the gator's attitude that let Artax know this was not the two's first visit and that a second one was not very welcome.

The three exchanged words and just watching Noah's body language made Artax nervous. He could see a predator getting aggravated “I ain't selling, no!" Those words rang out clear and loud and Artax saw the lion take a step backwards, holding up his paws in a slightly defensive gesture. Now Artax knew exactly what they were; vultures; come to pick the carcass of the dead town clean. Noah had mentioned poisoned cattle, which was not an uncommon side effect of badly run mines. Water pollution could be intermittent and it was hard to prove and expensive too, scientists don't come cheap. Even if you could prove it was the water, proving exactly whose fault it was was something that usually involved courts, lawyers and a whole load of money.

Artax put his own bags down, watching the two talking at the gator. His eyes picked up the thrash of a green tail, usually a sign of agitation in most species. The horse was not overly familiar with gators but he was fairly sure his body language was of a very unhappy man, but one on the defensive. He knew that it was none of his business, but Noah had seemed like a genuinely nice guy in a not-great situation and there was something about the look on the female rabbit's face, a mixture of amusement and disgust that made the equine's nostrils flare. Doing your job he could understand. However, enjoying it when it was clearly so unpleasant and upsetting to others, that he would never understand.

He was halfway to the trio before he even realised he had started to walk, his fingers clenching up as he heard the lion say, “Mr Hathaway, my employer has made a very reasonable offer for your property, such as it is."

“Sousse mo cock, pussy," Snapped Noah and Artax could not help but notice when a gator snaps back you hear not only the insult but the snap of his huge jaw too.

“Mr Hathaway there is no need to resort to such vulgarities," the female rabbit cut in with an air of injury that made Artax's nose flare again. “We are simply here to reiterate our client's munificent offer verbally, after your trepidation to engage in written communication."

“Gentleman, lady, Mr Hathaway has made his feelings clear. Now I suggest you leave, expeditiously." Artax had the pleasure of seeing the lion jump slightly and tug his sunglasses down to get a proper look at the outsider who had just barged in. Artax clenched his fists and tensed his shoulder muscles a little. In his tank top, he knew that they would stand out. The lion might be a predator, but even they knew they needed to be careful before getting into a fight with a stallion.

“Who are you?" The question came not from the cat, who seemed to have lost his tongue but from the rabbit. That she had asked the question so simply let Artax know the lion was not the only one surprised by his intervention. No fancy words to try and seem superior, a reflex question.

“I am the guy asking you, very politely, to leave Mr Hathaway alone. He has made his feelings very clear and there is no benefit in belabouring the point," the equine replied, keeping his tone even and non-threatening. He was grateful that his job had involved giving evidence in court, he had been trained many times and received some good coaching from various lawyers. The most important point was to never let your frustration or annoyance show. “I would suggest you check out the other amenities of this rather charming hamlet, but I suspect most of the facilities are currently closed for business."

“Ya dey are closed!" Noah affirmed, the gator clearly had recovered from any surprise at the intervention enough to follow along.

“So, unless you have a picnic in your car, or are planning to take a stroll through this beautiful country…"

“Dat's right, take a stroll through the bayou, have a little tet-a-tet with dem other bottom feeders," Artax heard the gator's muttered addition and could not help but smile.

“I would suggest you get back into your car as it is a long drive back to the nearest town, or wherever it is you originated from," Artax finished, his clear blue eyes looking very firmly into the sunglasses of the lion, letting his shoulders flex just a little again. That was not part of his training, that part he had learned elsewhere. Just a little bit of a flex, let the muscles bulge and things usually went his way. Which meant either the guy backed off, or he got down on his knees. Either way, it usually worked out well for Artax.

The two lawyers glanced at each other and then returned to their car. As it drove away Artax felt a large hand land on his shoulder, “I don't need no hero, cher, but thanks. Crawfish gumbo will be served in the dining hall, in an hour, no charge."

Noah did not wait for a response, he just turned and left. His tail was still thrashing as he went, Artax was sure that whatever was involved in cooking a gumbo, anything that needed mashing or stirring would be extra mashed and super stirred.

With the excitement disappearing the equine retreated and this time made it to his room. He turned the AC on full and tossed himself onto the bed. The room was neat and tidy. The sheets smelled fresh. Clearly, the bed had been made recently. He suspected that Noah would have done so that morning in anticipation of the booking. Artax could not imagine what it must be like for the gator, living in a town of one. Sure there were benefits, no neighbours to complain if you played loud music or sunbathed in nothing but your fur. However, nobody to speak to, nobody to help you out or just listen when you needed to talk. He knew he would not be able to survive like that, though he was a horse and they were herd animals by nature.

Feeling himself almost sticking to the sheets, the horse decided to check out the bathroom. It too was clean, with a hint of lemon fresh scent that let him know the gator had done more than just change the bed linen. His tank top and shorts were literally peeled off his body and thrown into a wet pile of fabric and horse sweat in the corner. The muscled stallion turned the shower on, leaving the water cold and stepped under, nickering with delight as the cool waters ran over his naked form. Grabbing the shower head he made sure to give his crotch a thorough spritzing, knowing how musky those huge grapefruits could get on the hotter days.

He emerged a few minutes later, damp but cool and happy. Though his stomach was grumbling loudly about the lack of anything tasty. Opening his bags he selected a nearly identical tank top and pair of shorts. In the summer heat the less fabric the better. Artax opted to go commando. He noted he had not packed any swimming trunks, so the pool was out. Though maybe Noah would let him swim au natural, after all, it was not like there were any other guests to offend, or titillate.

Fully dressed he re-emerged into the heat and returned to his rental car, outside the garage. There was no sign of the gator, he guessed that somewhere nearby gumbo was being cooked. His nose caught slight whiffs of something very aromatic and his empty stomach growled at the scent. Opening the trunk he checked over his equipment. He would take a bunch of readings and lay out some substrate samplers, small traps that macroinvertebrates would colonise over time. One of the best ways to tell the health of water was to look at what lived in it. It would involve a return visit in a couple of months. At least he would be able to add another customer to the motel registry.

After finishing the equipment prep for his trip into the bayou he returned to his room. Letting the AC cool him down again, as he waited for his meal. He crossed his fingers and hoped that he would enjoy the gumbo, because if he did not then he knew two things. First, as the only guest the gator would very much know and somehow upsetting the chunky green guy seemed just wrong. Second, he would have to ask said chunky green and probably upset guy, to open the only shop in town so he could buy some candy or chips or something to eat in his room. It was that or starve.

As the hour ticked away he emerged and headed to the motel's small dining room. Just four booths and a long counter. Clearly, even at its peak, the place had never expected that many customers. The walls were lined with pictures, some of the bayou and others of the town. Black and white faces of days gone past smiled at him. Behind the counter was always a gator or two. Maybe Noah's dad, or grandad, or maybe even him in his younger days. He was not sure. However, he was sure of where he was expected to sit. The only booth that had cutlery set out along with a selection of glasses and what seemed to be an open bottle of white wine.

Artax stepped towards the booth and then he noticed something else, the table was set for two. He guessed he would not be dining alone. His nose picked up the rather strong scent of spices and he knew his meal was going to be flavourful. Sliding into the booth he took a sip on the glass of ice water that had been set beside the empty wine glass. He frowned a little in confusion to see a jug of what looked like milk on the table.

His ears flicked as he heard the sound of an opening door and he turned to see Noah backing out of the kitchen, plates in one hand and a bowl of bread in the other. “Gumbo's coming, cher." The gator announced with a smile as he placed a large plate down before him. “Bread's, fresh fresh. Just baked. Ya want oil or butter?"

“Err. butter, please," Artax replied as his nose filled with the delicious scent of freshly baked bread, mixing with the aromatic scents from the kitchen. His stomach rumbled so loudly he knew the gator heard it.

“Patience, cher. Good gumbo should never be rushed," Noah announced with a chuckle as he produced a dish of butter from the small fridge behind the counter. He placed it down. “Now try the bread, an ah will bring the gumbo out soon."

Selecting the biggest and thickest slice of bread he could see, the horse pulled it onto his plate and spread a good layer of butter over it. Then he took a large bite. Fresh baked goodness mixed with creamy butter in a wonderfully satisfying mouthful. Too hungry to really savour it the slice of bread vanished in a few tasty bites. He got himself a second slice and this time he took his time to properly enjoy the moist warm baked treat. A good sign of things to come, if the gator could bake bread that good he clearly was no amateur in the kitchen.

Sitting back and relaxing a little the horse just slowly chewed on the baked treat. A few minutes later the gator re-emerged from the kitchen, with a large pot held in both paws. “Gumbo's on!" Noah announced as he placed the huge pot on the table. “Just getting the rice!" A moment later a large bowl of fluffy rice was placed on the table as the gator took the seat opposite. “Bon appétit." The gator said with a gesture at the table.

“T… thanks," the equine muttered a little taken back. However, his stomach forced him to rally and he grabbed the ladle on the gumbo. The aromatic dish was brown and filled with various seafood. Including crawfish still in their shells. He ladled a scoop onto his plate.

“Two gumbo, to one rice," the gator informed him. So he added a second ladleful of the delicious-smelling dish. Then he added some rice.

As soon as he was done the gator began to serve himself. Giving Artax a chance to spoon some of the stew and rice up. His nostrils sang with the strength of the spices. Mentally he crossed his fingers and took his first bite. Wonderful spiced goodness spread across his tongue, warming his mouth and then his stomach as he swallowed. “Oh… wow, that's good." He announced to himself, but he could see the gator grinning in a way only a species with so many teeth could smile.

Just as he began to get another spoonful, Artax noted the warmth in his mouth growing rapidly. “Oh… that's… got a kick to it." The horse added reaching for his water.

“Milk's for the heat, cher," Noah said quickly pointing at the jug. “Water'll make it worse."

Artax blushed a little as he grabbed the jug of milk and poured himself a glass. The heat seemed to have stopped growing and one milky mouthful certainly helped. He felt a little foolish, as he knew water beer and many other fluids only make spicy food burn more.

“Too spicy for ya?" There was a little bit of swagger in that question.

“No, just… wasn't quite expecting it. I like it spicy," Artax replied, unable to stop himself from putting a bit of bravado into his reply. Taking another mouthful and this time he refused to resort to the milk as his mouth heated up. The meal was far more than just the spice, the gumbo was full of flavours, it mixed well with the rice and the white wine gave a wonderful sweet freshness, almost a palate cleaner, though he could not help but follow each sip of wine with a sip of milk to stop the burn.

He saw Noah grabbing one of the crawfish with his fingers and took it as permission to do the same. Picking up one of the well-cooked large creatures, he noted it had already had the head and claws taken off. Which was a relief, the horse hated it when his meal stared back at him. “Pinch da bottom and suck da head." The gator informed him and Artax chuckled internally thinking that was good advice for giving him oral too. Nothing like a good ass groping while someone sucked on your flare.

Artax slurped the gumbo juices from the fish and then the meat. It was cooked to perfection, a tableau of flavours swirling in a wonderful fuge of sweet, savoury, salty and spicy. He swallowed with satisfaction, noting the heat was no longer bothering him as much. With barely a word between them, the two sat there and cleared their plates, then cleared a second plate. Noah was just opening the second bottle of wine as Artax got himself a third helping.

“Good ta see a young man with an appetite," the gator observed and Artax blushed a little.

“It was a long drive and… I'm a horse and I eat like one," he replied, flicking his mane a little for emphasis.

“So you are, Cher," agreed Noach, as he poured them both a third large glass of wine.

“You, eat like this often?" Artax asked, it would certainly explain the rather snuggly-looking belly the gator possessed.

“Ya, grow my own veg an I fish often too," the gator replied. “Leastways I fish in the areas that is safe."

Those words brought Artax back to his reason for visiting, “I guess you know why I'm here."

"Ah might be a bayou-born country boy, but yeah, I reckon I do," Noach replied. “Ya booked a tour of the bayou tomorrow, I'm a guessing you have some specific locations you want to see… and more."

“Yeah, I want to take some samples and put down some samplers," the horse replied, feeling uncomfortable as he knew the gator might put some hope on him.

“Mine's bad for the bayou," Noah stated with enough bile behind his words that Artax knew came from a person who the equine was guessing had felt under siege for a long time.

“Generally all industry is bad for something," he observed cautiously. “My job is just to see if I can find evidence of mine water runoff."

“An if you can?" the gator asked and it was a question so heavily loaded it hit like a ton of bricks.

“Whatever the results I get will be put into an official report and shared with everyone. The mine, the authorities and the public." It was a diplomatic answer, though he also knew the mine would likely try and counter the report, the authorities would shy away from damaging a business bringing jobs into the state and the public…well that was always the wild card. Sometimes the public grasped things, and sometimes they grasped the wrong things. If the place was badly polluted his place would look to force the owners of the mine to clean up their act. They might even take them to court. That was rare though, because it cost a lot, had a lot of risk and the rewards even when you are validated are a lot less than they would want. None of that he wanted to explain to his pleasant dinner companion.

Sensing the awkwardness of the moment, he chose to ask a question that had been on his mind since the encounter with the suits earlier, “you mind if I ask what those… people wanted?"

“Eh, dey want me to sell. I owns it all, see, my papa left me most of da town, an I bought da rest up, plus a bunch of dat farmlands. Nobody wanted it, until recent," snorted the gator.

“Any idea why?" Artax asked as he picked up the last crawfish and sucked it empty.

“Nickel," Noah replied. “They tink I don't know, but der's a lot of nickel under ma land. So dey's offering me pennies on da dollar and telling me it's “a great deal, by a magnanimous corporation who just can't bear to see a man like me living alone in a ghost town"." Noah's flawless recreation of the accent the female rabbit had was impressive, but the horse suspected it was also a word-for-word quote. “Dey sees me, no shirt, backwater little town guy and dey tinks I'm stupid."

Artax pushed down the slight pang of guilt as he realised his first impression had not been that far different. “So you think they should offer you more?"

“Dey should go away," snorted the gator. “Dey's done enough damage to da Bayou, cher. I won't help dem do more, no."

“I spent my career trying to protect the environment, but… given the price of nickel these days, I'm not sure I would do the same in your place," Artax replied honestly. “I'd probably rationalise it to myself, point out the nickel is expensive because of the surge in like solar and stuff."

“I know, cher, I know all about dat. Done my Googling, yes," snorted the gator. “I don't need much and I have my reasons."

“Oh?" The horse asked, raising an eyebrow, but the glance he got from Noah let him know it would take a lot more than a little help and a few glasses of wine to get that story from him. “Sorry, a nice meal and a few glasses of vino and I tend to forget myself."

Noah leant on the bar, and Artax felt like the gator was giving him an appraising look. For a moment he wondered if he had shoved his hoof too deep into his own muzzle to pull it out, Noah gave a small grin, “must be good food ta make anyone forget a good-looking man like you."

Artax dropped the bit of bread he had been using to dab up the last of the gumbo, feeling a heat on his face that had nothing to do with spicy food, “I… thanks." The equine glanced down at his plate and picked up the bread, eating it to give him a little more time. “It is really good food, good company too."

“Dat surprise you, cher?" The gator asked, there was something in the tone of the question. Artax got the feeling the gator was playing with him.

“I wasn't sure what I was expecting to find when I visited your town. Being honest, I never thought it would be a town of one," Artax replied and then picked up his wineglass and tilted it in Noah's direction. “However, there is something to be said for quality over quantity."

“Oh yes, I got lots of quality, cher, low quality but plenty of it!" Noah replied with a belly laugh, and with the belly on Noah that was a fun sight to behold.

“I would, respectfully, disagree. Though I would never argue, lest I never get invited back for dinner again," he replied, gaining another laugh from his host. Draining his glass he felt a buzz already growing, at the same time a large yawn forced its way out of his mouth. “I think I had better get some rest."

“Probably best, yes," the gator replied and Artax sensed a slight disappointment in that tone. Artax knew that if he was in the gator's scales he would probably look to spend as much time with company whenever he got the chance. “Goodnight."

Artax got to his hooves, feeling slightly awkward, “Sleep tight, don't let the bedbugs bite." The response slipped out fuelled by a long day and a belly full of wine.

“No bedbugs, cher, dey would affect my Yelp reviews," snorted the gator with a laugh as he began to gather up the plates and pots from the table.

Laughing at the response Artax left. The silence outside was deafening, the sound of rustling of dry grass in the breeze and insects chirping. However, he knew that the only other person within hundreds of square miles was washing the dishes in the building behind him. The heat of the day was fading, he could still feel the warmth radiating off the tarmac of the road.

For a moment he thought about taking a stroll in the cool night air. Until his mind reminded him of what Noah had said about making sure to shut the gate on the pool, lest he let feral gators in. So he chose to retreat to his room and to a well-made bed that was nicely cooled thanks to the room AC.

The next morning, Artax awoke and found Noah waiting for him in the same diner. A simple but well-cooked breakfast of bacon and eggs was made and consumed. The two chatted briefly, the horse brought out a map of the waterways he had taken from the mining company's survey methodology. He explained that he wanted to hit all the same sample locations and a few more.

“No problem, cher," Was the only response the gator gave.

The sun was still low in the sky when the two of them boarded a small motorboat and were on their way. It was not Artax's first time in a swamp or even in the bayou. He had to admit the place felt particularly wild, something he always enjoyed. There was something nice about seeing relatively untouched places.

Sitting on the prow of the boat he enjoyed the feel of the breeze in his mane. Noah drove with the sort of confidence that came from knowing every inch of the river like the back of his hand. Every now and then Artax would check his GPS system to make sure they were going in the right direction. The bayou was a crisscross of waterways and islands that changed slowly over time; new streams and islands formed, and old ones might vanish. Artax was glad to have both Noah and the GPS system, he was certain that he would not be able to find his way back safely.

Taking out his camera he took a few snaps of some feral alligators sunning themselves on the banks. Just as he was lining up a photo of another couple, the boat engine cut out and they slowed down. Glancing back he got a slight nod from the gator, “we's at the first stop you wanted, yes."

The equine grabbed his GPS and confirmed their location. He sprung into action, or as much action as an ecologist is ever likely to take. Water samples were taken at a range of depths. Samples of the swamp mud were taken from various spots across the width of the channel. Along with some initial readings.

“Everything looks normal," the horse explained to the gator, who clearly was curious. “I will need to get the samples to the lab to get a proper reading on everything. However, dissolved oxygen content is what you'd expect and I don't see any visual evidence of pollutants. This site is one of the furthest from the stream coming from the mine, so that's pretty much what I expected."

The story was the same all day, even taking samples in the mouth of the stream did not show much. He found himself trying to reassure the gator that often heavy metal pollutants were far harder to spot. However, he knew from experience that if there were any pollutants he would have expected to actually see some evidence of it.

When they reached the final spot he muttered, “Well, now we just have to hope the lab results turn up something."

“You actually want da bayou to be poisoned, cher?" The question hit hard, it was a direct hit to his heart through the back.

“I… well, no I don't want it to be. I just… it's a long way to come and the previous reports were so clear, some of the activists had photos that clearly showed iron pollution. Orange algae covering everything. It's kind of a dead giveaway," He muttered and shrugged his shoulders, “might be faked I suppose, or from a different site. That happens sometimes, or it might be the mine realised people were investigating and have done something to clean up their act."

“Dat's good, cher, yes," Noah replied and Artax could not help but laugh internally at himself. Usually, it was the locals trying to get him to reassure them. To confirm that things would get better. Here he was actually hoping to find a major pollution event.

“If they have, then it'd still be a breach and the sediment samples will probably show it. Heavy muds of swamps tend to keep the pollutants…" his voice trailed off as he just looked at the green all around him. “I suppose I just really wanted to find something." He pulled up his map and shook his head, “I was certain there was something here. The previous surveys had some gaps and that's usually a bit telling. I guess… maybe the guy they got before was just crap at his job. That happens."

“In all walks of life, it do, cher," confirmed the gator with a reassuring smile. Then he winked, “Don't give up, no. It's a beautiful day and da bayou is in bloom. How bout you let Noah take you to see some of da best spots. Ones most visitors will never see."

Artax thought about it for a moment. Really he should ask to go back, he could even leave early and be back in the lab testing the samples by the next day. However, he was really enjoying the gator's company and he had already booked a second night. Plus he liked the idea of getting a second cooked meal from his charming but unusual host. “Sounds good to me." He closed down and packed away all his equipment, making sure the samples were all safely stored and properly labelled.

The next few hours he just played tourist and he let Noah take the lead. The gator began to talk more, explaining stuff about the various plants and animals. Most Artax already knew, but he enjoyed hearing again in the reptile's accent. The charm of his gruff voice and yet soft-spoken manner was growing on the equine. His peculiar cadence and speech mannerisms grew more familiar as the tour went on. He got to see a load more gators, and listen to Noah explain how his wild cousins would hunt their prey. Big animals pulled down and spun around, as they were held in the powerful jaws that could crush bone so easily.

It was as the gator was driving towards what he called his favourite hidden spot in the entire bayou, that Artax's eyes spotted something orange. He had to look again to be sure and then he waved to Noah, “Can we go down that stream?" the equine asked as the small mat of algae floated past their boat.

The gator frowned, but turned the boat saying, “Der's nothing special this way, cher." However, Artax was already pulling out his GPS system and trying to get a good fix on where they were. As they drove further up the stream he spotted more and more of the orange algae. Slimy streaks of it smeared on the river banks, and he could see it clinging to plants and more matts of it floating downstream.

“Putain!" The gator exclaimed as they drove further down the stream. Artax was not sure what it meant, but from the tone, he knew it was not good. Picking up his map of the waterways he found where they were and traced the stream back out of the bayou.

“I'm going to need to unpack my equipment," the horse muttered, as he traced up the stream. “This stream… it doesn't come from the mine, but there's clearly at least iron in the water here. I just… hmmm… Noah, these areas on the map. Are they, or have they been farm fields?" He asked, pointing at the map.

“Yes, cher, dey used ta be," the gator confirmed.

“I bet they have irrigation ditches too," the horse muttered and then glanced at the time. It was starting to get late. The summer sun was getting low in the sky once more and he knew they would not have the light for too much longer. “Looks like I might need to rent your services for another day. Tomorrow I want to go right up this stream and see if we can identify where this is coming from. I hope I brought enough spare sample containers."

“Ah believe ah can make adjustments in my busy schedule, cher," the gator replied with a light-hearted chuckle. “Now you've seen the worst, let me show ya da best of the swamp."

Putting a very orange sample in his container the horse sighed, “I think I would like that, thank you." Though his stomach was a little grumbly. It had been a long time since he and Noah had shared a few sandwiches halfway through the survey. However, after witnessing ecological carnage, the thought of seeing something pristine was far more appetising than even Noah's cooking.

A few moments later they were on their way. The sun was low, and the trees and plants of the swamp made the dusky light dimmer still. Artax sat himself back in the prow, enjoying the cooling breeze their movement made. Noah steered them steadfastly through a maze of waterways and then out onto a small lake. A natural stretch of clear water in the middle of the swamp. The lake caused a large gap in the tree canopy making the area lighter than the swamp had been.

“Ma papi and ah used to fish here, when I was a hatchling," Noah muttered as he stopped the boat. The gator pulled out a cooler and took out several containers. “Chicken?"

Artax accepted gratefully, taking a drumstick and biting into it. Its coating was sweet and spicy, but nothing compared to the gumbo. The two sat in the boat watching the sunset and the fireflies come out. Smelling the sweet blossom of the trees and plants, with just the sounds of the crickets and the occasional splash of a fish to serenade them.

After the chicken came some ribs and a couple bottles of cool beer. “It's beautiful," Artax muttered, as he watched the fireflies dancing in the early evening darkness. “I hope you can find your way back in the dark."

“It's ma swamp, I could find my way with ma eyes closed," the gator replied with a laugh.

“That's comforting, though please I would prefer it if you did it eyes open," laughed the horse. He took a swig from his beer. “So… can I ask, do you really just… live here all alone?"

“I do, yes," Noah confirmed. “Ma Papi, he loved da swamps. Said it was nature, as nature was meant to be. Dirty and smelly sometimes, beautiful and fragrant, an always dangerous to da fools of the world. If ah go and sell, then some rich sousoute will tear up da ground for whats underneath…"

“And guys with fancy degrees like mine will write reports to say it's all ok and that we can remake the swamp afterwards," Artax said with a sigh and then he smiled, “This place is lucky to have you. Not sure I would have the strength. I mean, must be hard."

“Some days. Some days not so hard." The gator replied with a shrug. “Though ah do occasionally head to town. Pick up supplies an… deal with some o natures urges. If ah can find someone who is amenable."

The last bit perked Artax's ears up, “oh?" He could not stop himself from asking the question.

“Ah am flesh and blood, I has needs," laughed the gator, as he tossed Artax another beer. In the dimming light, the gator gave him a wink and a grin. “How about you?"

Catching the beer deftly, the horse felt the weight of that question and he had to admit he felt a tingle a little lower down. “Oh I have needs," he replied as he popped the top of the beer and then returned the wink, adding, “and I can be very amenable." He knew he was not being subtle, but then neither was the gator. Alone in the middle of nowhere, what did it matter? They both seemed up for something more.

“Den maybe ah should turn dis boat around, head back home," Noah replied and Artax could hear the question under those words.

“Yes… I remember your motel has a pool. I could use a dip after such a long day just a few inches away from water but never actually getting wet," the horse said carefully as the boat started up and they began to move. “Though, I did not bring any swimming trunks. You mind if I skinny dip?"

“Ah don't mind, no," the gator replied. “Mind if ah join ya?"

Artax shook his head with a bit of a laugh, “I was hoping you might ask." The equine replied, feeling that tingle growing lower down. He knew what was likely to happen, he was fairly sure they both did. He found himself staring at the huge gator, the broad belly was soft and yet his arms and shoulders were broad and muscular. There was no doubt that the gator worked hard and that the belly came from the fact he clearly loved to both cook and eat. His eyes trailed down to the reptile's raggedy jeans. There was a prominent bulge there and he wondered if it had always been there, or if it was extra bulging while the reptile thought about skinny dipping with his new equine friend.

The equine bit his lip as he looked over the gator. He had not given the reptile much of a look on first meeting. Those arms clearly worked every day but had probably never seen a gym. Thick and strong, but not in the showy muscle-building way. Muscle built day after day, year after year, of working hard and eating hard. Noah's ass, he could scarcely see it in the light, but he had noticed it a few times over the last two days. It matched his belly but was also surprisingly pert for a man clearly well over his forties if not into his fifties. Artax doubted the large man spent much time sitting down. After all, he had an entire town to run.

It had been a busy day and yet just the thought of getting his paws on that rump, on that bulge, filled him with a nervous and excited energy. So when they reached the small Sweetwater boat dock, he was able to leap gracefully and eagerly from the boat to the dock. “Just leave the gear, no point unloading it today just to reload it tomorrow, it'll be fine in the boat overnight." The equine said, trying to hide the growing excitement. His sheath was already tingling and he knew that at any moment his cock might drop. In the short shorts he was wearing there would be no escape but for his flare to push out of his pants leg. Which, while might arouse some lovers, made walking not only cumbersome but painful as the hem of the fabric pulled tight across his shaft with every stride.

“As you say," was the only reply the gator gave. The last embers of the setting sun seemed to be burning in the gator's lustful eyes. Artax watched the strong reptile stride confidently off the boat and onto the dock. Noah paused on the dock and adjusted his jeans a little, Artax's eyes caught the bulge moving and he felt that tingle in his sheath growing.

With a nervous chuckle, he turned and trotted towards the motel, “See you in the pool!" He shouted, hoping he did not seem too juvenile or rude by leaving his lover in the dust. However, he knew he was getting too excited and had just a few moments before that stallion length would flop out of his sheath and thicken to a girth that made all but the most adventurous of bottoms wince.

He hit the gate at a full canter and burst through it. His t-shirt was pulled off. The cloth stank of sweaty horny equine stud. A moment later his shorts dropped to his hooves and he gave a soft sigh as the pressure released. He felt his cock slipping free quickly, the length pushing out into the hot humid air. Normally he would shower after a day of work before jumping into a pool. However, as he heard the gate open and close behind him he took the plunge.

Six and a half feet of equine hit the water hard and caused a splash that sent a small tidal wave to every corner of the pool. While the cool waters soaked and refreshed every part of his body. For a few moments, he sat at the bottom of the pool, slightly embarrassed by just how eager he seemed. Or rather how eager he really was to enjoy some intimate time with the large reptile. However, his mammalian lungs soon began to ache and he surfaced looking around to see Noah standing by the edge of the pool.

“Pool lights on, or off?" the reptile asked, giving a grin that only a predator can properly pull off. That many sharp hungry teeth, and a look in his eyes that said, “You're on my surf now, little pony," the look sent a shiver down Artax's spine.

A few seconds later he realised the gator had asked him a question. The sun was almost down and the stars were already coming out. If the underwater lights were turned on he would at least be able to see what was going on. “On… to start at least." He replied with a slight hesitation in his voice as the thought of turning all the lights on and throwing himself to such a predator in his natural environment definitely made his cock throb.

Noah just nodded and pulled a small remote out of his pocket. With a single button press, Artax's world was suddenly brightly lit and the horse realised he might have made a tactical error. As the gator stood at the side of the pool and looked at the fully illuminated stallion, the foot plus of mottled pink and black horse cock was fully illuminated in the night. Blushing heavily, Artax glanced up at the large reptile and saw Noah licking his lips and the reptile gave him a wink.

Then without a word, Noah's jeans dropped. There was no slow pull down, the moment the waistband slipped lower than his belly the scruffy denim just plummeted to the floor, as if catapulted by Artax's desires. Floating in the pool, his night vision utterly ruined by the spotlights below him, the equine could not get a full look, but he was sure there was a rather prominent green rod already jutting out from beneath the gator's belly.

He was not given much time to adjust, as Noah entered the water, headfirst. The large reptile hit the water with a grace that even a cat would have struggled to match. The reptile dived down and Artax watched nervously as Noah floated just beneath the surface at the opposite end of the pool. He knew that his cock was on full display, there was no clearer green light, he could have hired a billboard and had a twenty-foot-high poster that said “Artax is down to fuck" and it would still be more subtle than his fully erect stallion shaft, bobbing between his legs.

Instinctively he moved back a little, to the shallower water, where he could stand chest-deep. The feel of solid ground under his hooves helped steady him. Noah had not moved, or surfaced, the equine wondered if maybe the gator was waiting for him to make the first move. He was just about to push back into the deeper water when he saw a slight splash and a wave of water. A green chunky torpedo was speeding straight towards him.

Artax has half a second to realise just how fast the reptile was in the water before the distance between them was gone. Instinctively he held his breath and tensed his muscles. However, a few seconds passed and there was no impact. The equine looked down, to find two eyes looking right back up at him. Through the pool water, he could see the gator had stopped right before him, still floating underwater. The green muzzle was just inches away from his length.

A heartbeat after the wink, there was another green blur under water and Artax gasped as two scaled hands grasped around his flared cock. He neighed out in surprise as those deft hands stroked up and down his huge length, as if exploring and testing. A rough leathery palm ran down over his sheath and to his own leathery fruits. The gator lifted his nuts gently, and Artax tapped his hoof instinctively. Artax knew he was blessed, even by equine standards. Though, it was a mixed blessing as most guys were too worried to bend over for him and the ones who were happy to, were far more interested in the size of the cock between his legs than the person it was attached to. That often did not stop him, but it did add an unpleasant and almost impersonal feeling to the intimacy.

Noah's muzzle drifted closer and Artax gasped as he felt a warm tongue slide over his flared tip. He sighed happily, deciding that the best approach was to just relax and let Noah do what he was going to do. The gator clearly had the home-field advantage and a plan, and the more that tongue teased his glans the more Artax just wanted to let the gator take control. His only regret was that the edge of the pool was a meter or two too far away from him to rest against it. However, the buoyancy of the water did help his tired muscles hold himself upright.

He gasped as he felt a mouth seal around his flare, those sharp teeth thankfully nowhere to be felt. The muzzle kept sliding forward, inch after inch slipping inside that powerful jaw. The gator's long and broad tongue writhed a little against the hot flesh as if welcoming it inside. Those green-scaled lips slipped over his medial ring and continued downward. Artax neighed happily, noting that the gator's long muzzle length made them one of the species most able to take a full equine phallus.

With a contented sigh, he felt the reptile's lips kissing his crotch around his full length. It was a first for him, even other horses had not been able to fit that much. The tongue moved and squirmed, squeezing his cock delightfully as the gator pulled slowly back. Artax wondered just how long Noah would be able to hold his breath, though as that mouth bobbed on his hot length he decided that was for Noah to worry about. The gator would come up for air when he needed it and he just hoped that might be after he had fed the reptile an equine treat.

One clawed hand grabbed his nuts, the other had slipped around behind him and Artax nickered softly and leathery fingertips pinched his rump and then teased against his pucker. The horse was a happy switch in the bedroom, a necessity for a well-endowed species as plenty of guys took one look at his cock and decided that they had always wanted to top. Those thoughts faded from his mind as Noah's bobbing picked up speed. The reptile's muzzle slid from his flare down to his crotch over and over. Pleasure ran down the thick length and right through his entire form. He cried out again and again, but there was no one else to hear his cries, even Noah was likely to hear nothing but sounds muffled and mutated by the pool water.

His cock throbbed heavily, precum shooting in copious volumes into the hungry gator maw. He felt the muzzle squeeze around his length and knew his lover was swallowing his precum. His balls began to tingle and tighten, rising up ready as the reptile's expert ministrations were rapidly driving him towards his orgasm. Artax held nothing back, his hooves stamped on the pool floor as the pleasure around his shaft grew and he knew that any moment he was going to be pushed over the point of no return. His nostrils flared and he could feel his heart beating at a gallop, the blood rushing as the endorphins flooded his system and drove his lustful needs higher.

Then, just as he approached his peak, everything stopped. Noah's mouth was sealed around his entire length, but the gator just hung there motionless. Artax panted and gasped, his head spinning as his balls began to threaten him with the painful sting if he did not empty them in short order. He looked down and through the rippling water he caught the eye of Noah, there was a mischievous glint in the look he was given. Both the reptile's hands let go of his body, leaving Noah floating, anchored to Artax by his cock only.

Without any further warning, the reptile suddenly moved. Not back, nor forward, he just rolled in the water. His wide body spun around, as gators do when they have their prey in their mouths and are trying to knock the wind out of them to get them to submit. A thought that did not occur to Artax, because no thoughts occurred to him as his brain drowned in the pleasure hitherto unknown was flowing down his cock. That huge warm mouth and tongue spun around his cock swirling and teasing every inch, squeezing and sucking on it, teasing in a way no other lover had ever come close to matching.

His hoof cracked off the tiled floor of the pool as he neighed at a volume that echoed through the quiet streets of the ghost town. His cock throbbed and he could do nothing as he began to shoot, his balls contracting. Powerful jets of stallion spunk were pumped into his spinning lover. Artax lost all control of himself as the intense bliss flooded every single aching muscle. Before him, Noah splashed heavily as he spun around his cock. Jet after jet of stallion spunk was shot into the reptile's hungry maw.

The splashing stopped, as Artax's jets of cum trailed off to just dribbles. A moment later he felt the cool water around his cock as Noah's mouth pulled off and the reptile's grinning head broke the surface of the water. Rivers of water flowed down the green-scaled body. “First time with a gator, cher?" Noah asked with a knowing smile. Artax nodded dreamily, still floating on the flood of endorphins. “Do you top?" The question caught Artax by surprise, breaking through his post-nut haze.

“I do, yes," the equine confirmed, his softening cock suddenly very hard. “If… if you're sure."

“Ah am no delicate virgin, cher," chuckled the gator as he drifted over to the edge of the pool. Noah lay his huge belly over the side of the pool, his tail lifting to arch forming almost a full green circle of gator. Artax gasped a little to see the huge male's ample buttocks exposed before him. His dark green scales lightened towards the centre, becoming cream-coloured and Artax's sharp eyes caught a splash of pink. “Got lots of big toys, and I played with lots of big boys, yes."

The equine's shaft throbbed as he let that response flow through his mind. Some wonderful images of the large gator riding on various dildos, possibly even in this pool. While it did not fully calm his concerns, the thought certainly enflamed his passion enough that he was willing to take the old gator at his word, and at the poolside. Wading through the water, he moved in behind Noah. Artax took a moment to admire the chunky buttocks on display.

His hands caressed around the two round scaled mounds slowly, appreciating the feel and the texture. Noah was not his first reptile lover, he had a naga friend that was also something of a booty call. So he already knew that the scales of most reptiles got finer in their more sensitive parts, and felt like silk wrapped in satin to thrust into. His fingers teased across the pink ring, and he heard Noah moan, his deep voice heavily laden with lust. “Careful, cher, ya tease a gator ya better be able to satisfy him or swim faster dan a fish on steroids."

Artax gulped a little and then bounced back, grabbing his thick cock and slapping the flare right on the pink entrance, “you promise a stallion he can gallop you'd better be able to ride better than… any jockey in the Kentucky Derby." He winced at his response, knowing it was far from the most skilful of metaphors. Still, while he might not be a great orator, Artax prided himself that he was pretty darn good in the saddle.

Before Noah could say anything further, Artax pressed forward with his hips. His flare pushed up to the shining pink entrance and to his surprise it opened quickly and his flare sunk inside his lover. Silk and satin wrapped itself around his flare and he gave a soft neigh of delight. “Told ya, cher, I can take it all," the gator replied and then that satin grasped around his cock and he felt himself being pulled in deeper. He nickered with delight, but instinctively his hands grasped the gator's ample hips, if he was going to rut a mare, he would be the one in control.

“So… I see, then I guess I can go a little faster," he replied through gritted teeth as he thrust forward firmly, pressing his thick length in until he felt his medial ring kissing against the entrance. “How's that?"

“I like that, yes," the gator moaned, his voice distant and lustful. Artax's mind spun, he wondered just how often Noah used his toys, and just how big they were. “Give me more, cher, I want ta feel ya balls on ma ass."

The gator's confident and lustful instructions washed away any worries or doubts. It was clear Noah was not bragging or biting off more than his ass could take. With that worry gone, all that remained was one question; just how long and hard would he have to fuck this sexy reptile before he made the big bastard cum? Artax licked his lips and steadied his hips, promising himself one thing; he would get that question answered before he fucked his milk as deep into the reptile as he could possibly get it.

Grunting deeply, Artax thrust again powerfully. His medial ring rammed through that stretched pucker and a second later the sound of leather slapping on leather echoed around the pool. As Noah cried out in bliss, “Yes!" Artax's nostrils flared and he pulled back quickly, just letting a few inches slide out before he rammed them back inside the wonderful depths. The feelings and sensations were powerful, his hoof stamped off the tiled floor as he sought more purchase in the wet environment. Noah's insides were warm and yet slick. Artax knew he was precumming, but he suspected that Noah might have slipped some lube in before they started to play. The cheating reptile!

He let loose with three rapid short but powerful, and fast thrusts. Each one made the gator cry out louder. His hands grasped tighter as he felt his dominant urges rising inside him. He gave his mare another savage thrust and then another. Savouring everything, the sight of such a large powerful male spread before him, begging for his cock. The splash of water as their lustful activities stirred up the pool and the cries of pleasure that escaped from them both. Even the smell of chlorine in the air seemed somehow fitting.

Artax grunted deeply, thrusting faster and faster. No longer stopping, just rutting and reaming the gator before him. His thick mottled length slipped in and out over and over. With each thrust, Noah pushed back seemingly with an endless wanton desire for more. Heavy stallion nuts slapped against some impressive-sized gator ones. The equine decided to up the ante a little, his right hand slipping around the gator and grasping around a thick and hard reptile cock.

Noah cried out loudly, as the horse grasped the gator's cock and rammed his own hilt deep once more. The gator's length was impressive, only a few inches shorter than his own, but no large flare and with a bit less girth. “Faster!" Noah's jaw snapped loudly as the gator shouted, the clack of teeth on teeth bringing the command into sharp focus.

“You want it faster, take it, mare," Artax snorted, his nostrils flaring wider. He planted his hooves further apart and swung his hips. Pulling his dick almost fully out, he let the gator feel the full length of his dick, slipping in and out as he claimed his new mare lover.

Artax nickered with delight as he heard Noah whimper, “Oh, fuck!" The cock in his hand throbbed and twitched and he knew that he was going to keep his promise. The gator, however, was not going to go down easily. Those ample buttocks began to flex and those silken depths began to squeeze and pull on his thick shaft. Artax whinnied deeply as the sudden increase in pleasure almost made him bust in a heartbeat. He bit down on his lip, letting the pain keep him a hair's breadth away from orgasm.

Grunting with lust, he fucked forward harder, determined to fuck the cum right out of his lover, before he fucked it into him. His paw on the gator's cock grasped firmly and jerked in time with his thrusts. His white hips smacked powerfully into Noah's ample green hips. He looked down and watched that pink ring stretching and flexing around his length. Loving the way it glistened slightly as his medial ring popped in and out. His nostrils flared again, the scent of chlorine and horny bitch, he licked his lips again and gritted his teeth.

He could feel his orgasm coming and knew that he would not be able to fight it much longer. His muscles were already aching and complaining after a long hard day, surely they had already done enough and he could just let go. However, he snarled internally that he would let no willing mare best him. He would make Noah cum, or die from the bluest of balls, whichever happened first.

Just as he felt himself on the very edge and knew he was about to lose. Noah's huge frame reared up and the gator gave a deep cry of pleasure. The cock in his paw began to throb as it spilt his seed into the pool. Artax tossed his head back, his soaking mane slapping off his long neck as he gave a neigh of pure dominant lust and thrust himself in just as deep as he could fuck. Then he moaned as his own cock began to throb, his flare spreading wide as he rutted slowly and firmly. Only pulling back a few inches and then thrust forward languidly as he made sure every drop of his stallion milk was fucked over a foot deep inside his reptile lover.

Utterly spent, he pulled free from the wonderful warm hole. His mottled length popped free with a slurping sound. His own seed leaked out, as he bathed his softening cock in the pool water. It disappeared quickly back into his sheath. He stumbled over and lay himself on the edge of the pool and panted, his legs too shaky to continue to stand.

“Now dat was a good fuck, cher," snorted the gator with a toothy grin. “Ya want a drink?"

The horse nodded his head, the effort required to speak still beyond him. He watched in astonishment as the huge naked gator pulled himself out of the pool. He strode over to a small cabinet and opened it. Inside wash a load of pool clearing kit, along with a half-drunk bottle of bourbon and a couple of glasses. Artax realised he was not the first lover to fuck the gator in the pool. Though he suspected the more aquatic animal tended to opt for the pool over his bed.

Noah plonked himself down on one of the double pool loungers and poured out a couple of glasses. Artax groaned as he realised he was expected to actually move to get his drink. With an effort that was nothing short of herculean, he pulled himself from the pool waters and stumbled over to sit down next to the gator on the comfortable lounger. Noah lifted up his hand and Artax saw the gator had somehow gotten the pool light remote without him noticing. A moment later the world grew very dim.

The horse took a glass from the gator and lay back on the lounger. Above them, the sky was full of stars, not a single cloud and so far from the nearest city. Artax sighed happily as he gazed out into the infinity of the universe, “wow, now that's a view."

“Better dan a T.V," agreed the gator. Artax sipped on the bourbon and sighed with contentment. “Not better dan a good fuck though. You are good, cher."

Chuckling Artax replied, “Thanks, you are pretty impressive yourself. Most guys can't take horses just like that. It takes time, preparation and an Imperial fuckton of lube."

“I like you horse boys, yes," chuckled the gator. “Ma first, he was a horse… of course, it took me almost a year o stretching ta taking him ta the hilt." Snorted Noah, though he seemed to be laughing, the was almost a sad note to the gator's tone. “Back when I was training as an engineer dat was. Didn't know much about much, certainly not about sex, or what ah wanted."

The equine nodded a little, he guessed it might not have been the easiest of times. Being gay in small-town America. Though sometimes people can surprise you. “What was his name?"

“Bastian… Bastian Bux, who knows how ta fucks," snorted the gator with a singsong voice. “Well, he did eventually. Took ma cherry, stole my heart and den… well ah lost him."

“Sorry, that must have been hard," the equine replied. Artax had been in a couple of long-term relationships that had ended suddenly. He knew how much it could hurt.

“Ah, be harder on him… an his wife and der kids, cher," observed the gator. Artax snorted in surprise, getting some fine bourbon up his nose and then spraying it into the cool night air as mist. “His family never would a let him be himself an he was not strong enough to go agin der wishes."

“Fuck… that must have sucked," he observed lamely, hiding his discomfort with a sip. Unable to stop himself his curiosity got the best of him, “Did… did your family… know… about… being gay, I mean about you?"

“My Mama did, Papi died before ah knew myself," the gator replied. “Ah am pan though. Or as my Mama put it “ah like to keep my options open"." Artax chuckled at the description and for a while the two lay in silence just drinking. His muscles relaxed and his eyelids grew heavy.

“You think you'll ever see him again?" Artax asked, partly because he could feel himself falling asleep and knew the conversation would keep him awake a little longer, and he did not want the night to end, not yet.

“Maybe, he was not da last though, no," Noah replied with a chuckle. “But he was special. Der's nothing quite like your first, is there?"

“I suppose there isn't," Artax replied, he thought he heard a little longing in the gator's voice. He suspected the reptile might just be putting on a brave face, or maybe just was not willing to share that much with someone he had known for less than forty-eight hours.

“If he wants, he knows where ta find me, an ah will be here, cher," Noah muttered, his words slow and a little slurred. Artax suspected that he was not the only one feeling sleepy. “Will ya be staying another night, cher?"

Artax shook his head, “I can't, I will have to get the samples back to the lab. Tomorrow after we check that stream and I get the rest of the samples I need, I will have to leave, assuming my car is in order. If not I might need to beg a ride off you. Let the rental company fix their broken ass car while I heft some samples to the nearest lab before they are too old to be still valid."

“I can give ya a ride, cher," there was definite disappointment in the gator's tone.

“I'll be back, I will need a second round of samples and to recover the substrate samplers I put down," Artax replied and thinking about it he added. “Biological samples tend to degrade more, might be best if I bring the stuff to do the analysis on-site. Of course, that would mean probably a week-long stay next time."

“Well… dat sounds nice," Noah responded and Artax had to agree. Laying by the pool with an almost empty glass of bourbon in one hand, and his other arm around the gator. He took in the full majesty of the world around them. A soft snore came from the gator and the equine smiled, draining his glass and then giving in the fight against his heavy eyelids, drifting off to sleep as the fireflies danced above them both.

I have just published a brand new anthology of sexy orc stories, please see the information in the journal below for links on where you can buy a copy.

Orc anthology

I published an Ebook of sexy orc story series, The books can be found at the links below.Thanks for reading

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