A Colt's Release
Non-anthro horses have fun.
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This is furry porn. If you somehow got lost into this page, get out before your innocence is ruined for good. Otherwise, enjoy.
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Hello y'all!
Here's another little something from me. I was feeling creative ;)
Have a nice read!
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The afternoon breeze was a cruel mistress. The warm air, fresh with some rain, soil newly kicked with hooves and of the nearby forest, was blowing from the lower meadow, ruffling the grass as it made its invisible way. The wind was carefree, like the heart of a young stallion, of a happily galloping colt running in circles for the very pleasure of running. That was exactly what Grey-Wind was doing, enjoying the rush of air over his slick skin as he patrolled the edge of his meadow.
Then the wind came from over the lower meadows and brought in the scents, and Grey-Wind stopped. His head, proud, bright-eyed, was held high, and he breathed and nickered loudly, as he sampled the offering of the air, and immediately a new tension filled the young stallion.
Rut.
The wind had carried over the smell of a mare in heat, strong, likely already in the throws of the greatest need to be bred by the leader of the pack, the huge stallion whose fruitful loins had sired most of the young colts who kept their home on the upper meadows, away from the mares.
Grey-Wind breathed deeply and felt a stirring in his own, black, leathery sheath, when the cruel wind brought more of the subtle, earthy aroma of a wet, willing mare. His imagination, often filled with lustful thoughts, did not need any further impetus to create images of the young, proud stallion mounting his favorite female, a brown little mare with a broad rump and a swishing blonde tail. Yes, he could see it, how the willing mare would present her plump ass to him and raise that tail to show off her pussy, all red and seeping with fluids signaling her willingness and readiness to take a stallion's seed.
The lovely smell would intensify with every step he'd take towards the mare, and he'd push his muzzle under that lifted tail and taste her from within, lick up the sweet juices until his chin would glisten with her offering. Grey-Wind would rear up and let his heavy body dominate the little mare whose belly burned with estrus and the need to be mated and bred until stallion seed would gush out of her pussy and drip down between her legs as a sign of submission to the stallion's ever-present lust.
These images Grey-Wind saw, and enjoyed greatly. They made his long, heavy erection push out of its sheath and smack against the grey colt's smooth belly, sending a twinge of pleasure through the young horse's senses. He nickered again, the air kissing his firm member and teasing it even further now that he was out in the open. It was the same air that smelled of pussy and rut, and the knowledge was almost frustrating for the young, arousal stallion.
It was as close as his cock would get to a dripping mare, he knew, because even if he was growing to be strong and impressive, there was no way that he could challenge the old stallion, for he was but a whelp compared to the master of the pack. He did wisely in his act of driving the young colts away from their mothers when the time came, for that always bought him extra years before a stallion would grow to be old enough to challenge him...and before that, the young colts would have to defer to him, for protection, and that created a special bond...one almost stronger than the blood flowing in their shared veins.
Nothing in the knowledge that the meadows were safe did anything to help Grey-Wind's predicament. He stood with his head to the air, still breathing heavily, his tail flicking from side to side when he tried to catch more of the hypnotizing scent of the lusty mare. His cock throbbed aimlessly against his belly, useless for now since there were no mares to breed by the colt's young, springy loins. His longings remained unanswered, and that made Grey-Wind nicker deep into the cooling air, signaling his displeasure.
At least the wind was lenient and turned its way now, blowing from the other side and taking the tantalizing scents away, leaving Grey-Wind with the familiar mixture of air, water and soil as his friend. The mare was gone...only now remaining as a hint of taste upon his lips, quickly lapped away by his long, slick tongue, and then there was none more. His erection was still stiff, as proud and needy as it was before, but now it only served to remind the cold that his time had not come yet.
Grey-Wind launched himself into a gallop again, running fast, and hard, to distract himself. He took along the edge of the small hill that separated the two meadows, running as fast as his legs could carry him, being one with the wind after which he was named. The length of horse flesh smacked against his loins with every step, creating a subtle drumbeat to his run, setting his pace.
The run gave him a thirst, too, and after a few minutes Grey-Wind changed his way, going downhill again, towards the small stream on the opposite side of the upper meadow. He avoided the upper glade where most of the other young stallions enjoyed the evening even now, he knew, nipping on grass and generally reveling in the action of not doing a thing.
It did not take him long to reach the stream, and he landed with a huge splash, sending water everywhere around him. The horse reared up, letting his frontlegs touched the sky briefly before he came down to all fours again, nickering happily even when the cold drops hit his sensitive, aroused flesh and made it twitch briefly. Grey-Wind waded through the foot or so of water slowly, enjoying how his body felt after the run. His heart beat strongly, his breath would have made small clouds if it had been colder, and his blood ran fresh, and powerful, and he felt even more alive than he usually did. It was bliss for the young colt, and offered a distraction from his earlier thoughts, thankfully so.
Grey-Wind did not have many moments for just himself, before he heard the sound of hooves on slightly soft ground, and lifted his head up to seek for the source of the noise. It was not difficult to place it as soon as he spotted someone moving, a little distance away, the shape growing fast until it took its familiar form and approached. As soon as the colt was within hearing distance, Grey-Wind threw his head back briefly and nickered, greeting the newcomer, and flicking his tail.
Torrent was a brown colt, about a year younger than Grey-Wind, and as such, smaller and lesser in stature than the grey stallion now eying the horse taking slow steps towards the water currently occupied by the fellow horse. His eyes were brown, and friendly, much like the shade of his furs, inherited from his mother, Grey-Wind was sure. There was energy to Torrent's steps and his movement, easily visible in the way he carried himself, with confident steps that took him to the edge of the small stream.
Grey-Wind watched him closely, keeping his eye on the younger colt while Torrent stopped, stomped the ground a few times and leaned down to drink. He was a noisy drinker, and flicked his ropey tail from side to side in an easy way while he gulped down water from the clear, cold stream. His tail swished occasionally against his rump, and it made an audible sound when the strands of hair brushed over the round expanse of his hindquarters, strong and powerful and made for running on the plains.
Yes, the grey stallion concluded, Torrent was a handsome creature, and Grey-Wind had always had a keen eye for attractive beasts. Even now the brown colt's neck curved down pleasantly as he drank for his sustenance, ending in firm, smooth flanks and moving along his body until his hips broadened again, only to melt into thin but strong legs. He carried himself proudly and well, and would bring pride to the pack when his time came, but that might be still a few years from now.
Grey-Wind's erection that had slightly diminished from the cold water started to become fully hard again. His flesh pulsed and rose back to its earlier position, gently poking against his belly, stroking bare skin against the silky furs there. The colt huffed lightly at the feeling, and swished his tail, feeling distracted by the growing sensation in his loin. His eyes never left the colt drinking from the stream, though, roaming over his flanks and his rump, unashamedly. Torrent might not have been a juicy, heated mare, but he was still something fun to look at, and his scent, a hint of musk and water to it, was certainly not unpleasant. Being a young, burgeoning male himself, to enjoy masculinity was simply another part of being a stallion at the peak of his sexual development, easily aroused into action.
To the older stallion, it felt like his cock had an idea of a suitable action.
Since there were no mares available, it wasn't uncommon for the males to take mates of each other. It was a game, really, of nudging and head-butting and nickering, of playful mountings and eager thrusting of hard, leaking cocks against each other's rumps in search of pleasure. Even though Grey-Wind had learned to crouch down and stroke himself against the grasses for gratification, nothing felt better than lying on top of a warm, broad body while he thrust his cock against a firm, muscular rump belonging to a mock disgruntled fellow stallion.
Sometimes, if you were mounted by an especially pent up or an eager stallion, you might get your back and your rump painted with strong spurts of pearly white seed, marking the stallion in masculine play. It always made the air reek of sex for hours afterwards, spurning the still yet unsatisfied stallions to join the games. Sometimes it seemed like, Grey-Wind thought, it looked like it was an unending progression of mounting and thrusting, stallions bouncing against each other. They'd land heavily, snort and nicker and push heavy cocks against asses and thrust their heavy bodies forward, stroking their flesh against the heat of a butt or a taint, leaving slimy trails. Practically everyone would take a mock mating and also get the opportunity to ump their loins to another's buttocks for pleasure, usually for only as long as until it took for you to be pushed away by another eager stallion, with playful headbutting and smacking of a slick cock against an unsuspecting stallion's backside.
Often the grass was littered with white patches of stallion come, making the grass strange-tasting to eat until a rain would come and wash the strange male stains away...clearing the playground for another go at the adolescent mating game of the young stallions.
Looking at Torrent from his vantage point a twenty feet away, Grey-Wind decided that this was as as good time as any for a little private game of their own.
Grey-Wind nickered, seeking Torrent's attention with his sound. He got the brown stallion's eyes, roused by the noise, his ears perking upon the noise coming from the older stallion, and as soon as this happened, Grey-Wind reared up, high and proud, to display his whole body as much as the jutting cock sprouting from his belly. He shook his head, quickly, and landed with another considerable splash, sending water almost as far as the flanks of the brown stallion eyeing him curiously now.
Torrent replied with a nicker of his own and shook his own head. The young colt's mane was tossed from side to side, and he flicked his tail again, signaling that he had indeed noticed the fellow horse and his aroused state. Grey-Wind remained partially sideways to the brown horse, making sure with his posture that Torrent could see his proud loins, the long, thick member and the large pair of testicles hanging between his slightly spread legs. Grey-Wind kept looking at Torrent in return, nickering quietly and baring his teeth, briefly, before he stomped the ground.
Torrent's ears flicked, and he stomped as well, watching the proceedings curiously.
Grey-Wind took steps closer, approaching the brown stallion now, his erection swaying and dripping with water and his own fluids as he came up to the fellow colt. They eyed each other for a brief moment before Grey-Wind nudged Torrent's flank with his nose, snorting loudly.
Torrent nickered quietly.
Grey-Wind repeated his gesture twice, over the horse's flank, and stomped, letting Torrent know that the grey stallion had intentions. The brown horse neighed, shook his head and a simply stood in his place, his tail swaying from side to side slowly.
That was good enough for him, and Grey-Wind stepped back, turned, and reared up, landing easily on top of the smaller male's back, his front legs closing high over his flanks. Torrent neighed and lifted his head up, just as Grey-Wind stepped closer and pushed his body firmly down to the fellow male's back. Their hooves clicked and made little splashes of water from their movement, they still stood still in the middle of the small stream, now one on top of another. Torrent was being mounted by the hungry stallion, taken for pleasure, as brief as it was, for Grey-Wind's need.
The brown colt did not resist even when he felt Grey-Wind's slick cock slide between his rump cheeks, sandwiched between their bodies. The larger stallion pushed their hips together and immediately began to hump. His thick flesh stroked up and down against Torrent's ass. The leaky tip left a small, glistening trail of pre in its wake. Grey-Wind grunted at the slick sensation and kept going fast and hard, gripping Torrent's sides hard. The brown stallion could do very little to complain or to relieve himself from the situation, because he was effectively trapped underneath the greater bulk of the grey horse. He had to make do with the knowledge that it was fast, and hope that the older stallion was in a good mood and would allow a reciprocation to take place.
The combined feeling of that thick, hot cock stroking against his rump and the thought of getting the rare chance to mount the grey stallion were more than enough to get Torrent's own cock into action. It slid out of its sheath, spurned on by the smack of Grey-Wind's balls against his big rump.
The rutting continued hard and fast. Grey-Wind's pace was quick, just the way he would do, he imagined, if he was mounting a real mare. He made no excuses for his mounting Torrent, he didn't need to make believe that the stallion was actually a mare, for it was still an experience erotic enough to keep him fully aroused and humping against the fellow stallion's body. He was almost like a mare, anyway, and in every forward thrust Grey-Wind's cocktip brushed against the fleshiness of Torrent's tailhole. The muscled pucker was like a spot of silky firmness under the stallion's tail, not quite like pumping into a mare's pussy, but still, added its own sensation to the act of mock mating the quietly nickering male.
Heat and musk grew fast, and soon Torrent's whole rump was covered in a little sheen of sweat and pre while he was rutted by the stallion on top of him, holding him down firmly while he took the brown horse's body. He slid easily now, his cock nestled deeply between Torrent's inviting, firm rump cheeks, the crevice between them fully slick with pre from the horse's ever-leaking cock. It felt even better for Grey-Wind, and increased his enthusiasm, making him pound even harder against that fleshy rump, racing towards his impeding release.
The foamy-mouthed stallion thrust so hard that something rare, and wonderful happened. His thrust had taken ever firmer quality than before, coming at an angle that allowed him to move his hips more than before, letting maximum friction come over his sensitive, broad cockhead while he thrust it between the male-mare's rump cheeks. Each thrust made that slick tip push against the fleshiness of the stallion's slightly protruding tailhole, almost catching in the rim of that closed muscled opening before slipping past, his body coming down so that his whole weight pressed the base of his cock against the stallion's taint.
That was what usually happened when he was doing what he did now, but then, his flesh caught the other stallion's especially hard, and with a mighty push and a thundering neigh, Grey-Wind slipped within the other horse.
Torrent's whole body tensed upon the unexpected intrusion into his body. Grey-Wind's cock buried itself swiftly into the stallion's rectum, filling him up completely within seconds of surprising, swift agony for the brown horse. He lifted his head up and groaned in his pain, the pulsing sensation especially prominent in his tailhole, now spread fully around the thick base of the other stallion's cock imbedded inside Torrent's bowels. His body clamped down heavily, but that only served to increase the sensation of fullness, making it grow into new heights of intensity, and causing the brown stallion to loose his breath.
Even Grey-Wind stood still for a moment, balls to balls, his cock buried inside the brown stallion's rear, fully inside that suckling, slick, hot, forbidden place. This almost never happened during the group games...and even then it would be brief...nobody would really agree to enjoying the sensation of being filled with a stallion's cock under their tail.
Now he had the brown stallion all to himself.
Grey-Wind bellowed like the proud beast that he was and began to rut to the earnest, fucking into the hot, gripping tunnel. He could not go as fast as before, for this was not a very slick place yet. His constant leakage helped to ease his passage, and by the time he penetrated the colt's rump for the fifth or sixth time...none could keep such a count...his movement was smooth and easy. His pace increased almost immediately once Grey-Wind realized that he could now fuck the stallion as easily as he had done before, and he began to move faster, again, now taking the fellow male fully.
Torrent could do very little besides bracing himself and taking it as well as he could. He tried to stay as still as possible, letting Grey-Wind do the work of thrusting himself in and out of the brown horse's backside. The pain had dulled, replaced by immense fullness inside him, one that moved, in and out, at a frantic pace, pushing deep into him before it was gone for a brief moment, only to return. He sweated hard, panting as he fought the urge to try to escape from Grey-Wind's clutches, but any such attempt was sure to end in failure and potentially more pain. His own cock half-drooped between his legs, forgotten for now, when Grey-Wind was concentrated only in his own pleasure, caring little for the brown stallion's state.
The colt mounting the young stallion enjoyed his mating immensely. The body was hot, and firm, much like a mare's, he was sure, and his tight innards served as a good receptacle for his cock thrusting in and out of that hot, tight little hole, making lewd slurping sounds. His heavy balls swayed against the stallion's rump, reminding them both with each smack that there was much there to be shared, to be deposited inside the stalion's ass soon, if he would have his way.
It didn't take long for Grey-Wind to take the final plunge and bury himself up to the sheath into the stallion's rump, only a blink before his body gave up its seed in a giant gush of masculine energy, flowing from the grey horse into the brown one. Both of them groaned at the sensation, one from the utter pleasure of orgasm, of breeding his mare, the other, from the growing heat inside his rectum, signaling that he had been now fully taken by the stallion. Grey-Wind's hips continued their slow humping motion, churning the cum now inside Torrent's rear. Part of it was pushed deeper, the rest forced down, to escape from the tight for of flesh within flesh.
A pearly white stream dribbled from the spread pink rim of Torrent's anus and flowed down over his balls, marking them with seed from the stallion still inside him. The hot sensation caused him to nicker hopelessly, his head hung down in submission, just like a mare would at the feeling of taking a stallion's seed.
The most adventurous of the runny droplets dripped down from the sweaty, black ball sack and into the water that washed away the evidence of their deep male rut. Still more leaked out of the brown horse. Grey-Wind was pent up and had plenty to give, and he intended that he brown stallion would have it all.
The mischievous wind turned and now carried away a new scent, one from the stream and into the wilderness beyond the familiar home plains of the two stallions locked together in their mating.
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Cheerio!