Stud Farm
The evenings can be long at the ranch, but when you've got your man by your side, even the most mundane of chores seems like a warm night breeze.
Hehhey!
Another classic Gruffy moment for me, I was thinking writing something and then wrote something else instead, and this just kept coming and coming and coming! *smiles* Thus, here we go, for your Saturday's enjoyment, fresh of my keys, and I do like how this turned out.
What do you think, though? The comments are the best measure of my work, and I appreciate each and every piece of feedback I get. Thus, if you comment, I'll be most grateful : )
Without further ado, enjoy the story and have fun!
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I know that they say that the work never ends in a farm, but there are moments, precious, little moments in time, when you really can get off your hooves and just...be. It's not often, I admit freely, but whenever that happens, there's a special sense of calmness that can easily overtake you, and make you appreciate the world, and the small things in life, in quite the lovely way. Call it reflection.
I had one of those feelings while sitting on the balcony that opens from our bedroom, overlooking the fields beyond. Sometimes, when the air was really clear, you actually had to squint to see where the corn fields ended, otherwise it all melted into a haze at the horizon. Of course you can see the windmill in the distance, too, one of Ron's ideas, of course, he's the one who comes up with all this stuff, such as installing our own wind turbine for generating electricity for the farm. I gotta admit that it's almost paid itself back over the few years, so I have to say that he had the right thought about that, too, but yes, Ron's that kind of a man. He makes wind turbines turn.
He makes my heart turn in funny ways too, though don't expect me to much talk about that sort of thing. Not really my way to go gushing about how much I happen to love him, even though sometimes I'm really brave and whisper as much into his ear, and get that special smile from him, the really extra special one. There aren't that many words usually, though, but we get along fine with other ways to express the feelings that we share.
There I go again, talking about feelings. Hah. Just when I told you I don't talk about them. But anyway, you don't want to hear this old queer going on about how much I L-O-V-E my Ron, I'm sure you much prefer to hear about the other sort of things gay guys do when they are in L-O-V-E, or otherwise, too.
I spotted him at quite the distance, like I always do ,watching him as he emerged from a crack in the huge sliding door of the equipment shelter, where we keep the tractors and all the heavy machinery for tending the fields. He turned sideways for wriggling himself through that door and I smiled to myself at the sight. Ron's new diet had really taken a few pounds off his pouch and made him into a wholly new man, though being ponies as we were, you'd never see a really slim pony. Guess it had to do with the body type, you just had to have this thicker trunk section to keep all the internal organs in, and combined with a big ass rump and short legs, you never could obtain the kind of a body type all those big ass horses do. Don't' say I mind it, though, a pony's the best thing for a pony my ma used to tell me when trying to nudge me towards courting Christina Hornet while I was 18 years old and ma thought that it'd be well time I found myself a girlfriend. You may guess that it didn't really go much anywhere.
Can't say the same about Ron, though, I had to think when I watched him walk along the wide path from the shelter towards the house, taking his time to enjoy the air and the setting sun and the fact that he doesn't have to work anymore for today. His rump swung with his easy gait, too, making me smile on my own perch up in the balcony, looking at the pony going. He is gorgeous, I gotta tell you, even from afar. No need to worry, though, I know very well how he looks and I can fill in the blanks even from this distance. I know how his eyes look like and I very well know the feel of his stubbly chin and the softness of his black hair. His brown furs are like that type of cloth, velvet, is that it? Guess that's what it's called, velvet, soft, brown velvet over my own hide. He always laughs when I tell him that he's gorgeous, and maybe dude-punches my chest and calls me an old queer, but we know it's all for the bravado, we're big guys after all, we are allowed to play it rough with each other if we like, even when the meaning is everything except rough. As long as the message gets through.
He wasn't wearing a shirt now either, having taken it off for comfort earlier, I'm sure, for working in the stifling heat of the shelter, for I know that the corrugated steel walls make it into a roast oven for ponies. I knew that the old John Deere needed a few hydraulic lines replaced, and that's what Ron had gone to do after we'd had some supper and I took charge of loading the dishwasher and sweeping the floor and generally being the wife for the evening. Don't get me wrong, we do swap the household duties around freely and don't do any queer girly-man, manly-man thing between us, that's not who we are, and that's not how we could have it any time. It just happened that he had to do the hydraulics tonight and I didn't have anything else planned, so being the momma was my duty for the evening and I took it like a man.
My man was now closer and passing the garden where we grow all sorts of delicious stuff for the kitchen, such as herbs for spicing things up and a few tomatoes and peas. You might think it's funny to have your front yard as a garden instead of plain lawn, but that's Ron thinking again, that when you gotta bring in good soil to even get something to grow there properly, you want to put it into good use. The front yard isn't a fixed concept here anyway, being that we're on the farm and there really isn't a single square foot of it that's made for simple leisurely like they do in the cities where everyone cultivates their little patches of grass with pride. Well I cultivate my little acres with pride, but I guess the feeling's the same. You feel like you're doing something tangible, shaping the nature to your will.
I leaned against the worn wooden banister of the balcony and looked down at my man, my tall ears flicking and showing my buckteeth at him, grinning broadly at the sight of the thick pony, being so near now.
"Howdy!" I called out, my tail swapping against my rump, clad in my favorite pair of old Levi's.
Ron stopped in his hoovemarks and stood there, looking up at me on my vantage point of ogling down at the blue-eyed pony. His broad shoulders were slung back, the way he always held himself up, call it a reflex, maybe, but it always made for nice watching. I saw everything that was him, the curious eyes and the tall ears and the trail of black curlies along his belly and disappearing under the line of his loose belt. Sweat made his muscles stand out a bit more than usual, too, and let's say that my man Ron had nothing to be ashamed about with that body of his. It made my tail flap even more, and grin further, and even raise a hand in greeting.
My man rubbed his chin with an old-mucked hand and flicked his ears again.
"Wotcha doing up there Kurt?" he nickered a little.
I smiled and huffed and brayed, just because I could.
"Enjoying the breeze," I replied, winking at my man.
"Lazy ass," he chuckled.
"Ain't an ass, am a pony!" I replied in a cheerful nicker.
"You fool," my pony shook his head a little.
I simply smiled, enjoying my position on my bench on my perch.
"Come'un up here, Ron," I waved my hand in invitation. "It's a better view if you share it with someone."
Ron chuffed happily and to my surprise didn't continue on his way to the front door, but instead he rounded the front porch and planted himself on the bottom rungs of the fire ladder that he'd installed off to the side of the porch, for getting out from upstairs if the need aroused. I chuckled and leaned back on my seat, scratching my belly through my T-shirt while I waited for my man to make the climb along the narrow steel ladder. It made some loud noises with his hooves clanging along the rungs, accompanied with the huffs of his heavy breathing from the effort. I sat there patiently and let my smile grow broad when his head popped up into view, followed by the rest of my pony. He landed with a satisfying thud.
"Howdy," it was Ron's turn to greet me, standing there.
I smelled the machine oil and grease and sweat even this far off, a strong stench that made me snuffle, once, while I watched my pony with the smile lingering on my lips. Ron took a deep breath and rubbed his palms on his thighs before he stepped closer and then he landed on the bench next to me, causing it to creak a little when his butt dropped down on the simple wooden bench. I'd made that bench a few years back, when we decided that the balcony needed something new to make it more nice, and that's what I came up with. A simple bench where you could sit and watch, preferable in the company of your man, to observe the light change and drift between the day and night.
Must sound like I've read the Reader's Digest too much or something, waxing poetic like that. Ron don't mind me reading the Reader's Digest though he ribs me a little about my reading glasses I have to put on when I'm trying to get through that small text on those small pages. Calls me a girl in those times I spend in my rocking chair by the lamp reading that while Ron sits on his computer and surfs the Internet for something new and interesting. Sometimes I'm surprised how he has enough time to do all his work here at the farm from the time he spends in Wikipedia.
Our shoulders touched, that's how close we were sitting, when my man put himself down and extended his legs for comfort and leaned back against the smooth lacquered backrest of the bench. I gave him a really good look, looking at him the way a man is allowed to look at another man only if you're together with that man, because otherwise you're looking in a way that might not please the most. Never seen Ron mind me looking, though, and I can look and smile a little and pat his knee with my hand before folding my hands behind my neck and leaning back myself. Good times.
"How's the tractor?" I asked him, letting my eyes fall halfway closed, out of simple relaxation.
My man grunted a little, and scratched his sweaty belly. The machine shop smells mixed with his musk filled my nose even further, his motions sending extra whiffs into my direction.
"Had to swap the two hoses I told you about and pump half a gallon into it but now it should be in good shape for working the south patch," my manly man rumbled, content to rest now after the work was done.
I chuffed and smirked to myself, catching a look at him from the corner of my eye. I could see that Ron was relaxing now, too, still scratching himself and happy to be off his hooves after a long day.
"That's great," I agreed, quickly.
"Yeah," my pony snuffled, "ought to hold on for a while, that fix."
I elbowed him briefly, and got a little grunt out of it, from my thump against his sweaty, thick side.
"I trust you with that, Ron."
My man stretched his arms high up over his head, exposing his glistening, hairy armpit for my view. Now, I don't think it's a fetish or anything, but rubbing my nose over that place wouldn't have been such a bad idea in my view during that moment, but it didn't last long enough for such a thing, Ron had his stretch and his content rumble and then his arms were folded lightly over his belly, perfectly in rest now.
"Might need to do some more work on the spreader, though. There's something wrong with the shaft, could be the bearings. Can't get that nitro down on the field if we don't have that running perfectly."
I smiled a little to myself and gave him a look. Then I reached with my hand and patted it over his belly and smiled.
"You sure as heck ain't going to go playing with PTO shafts tonight anymore man," I spoke to him with a grin.
My pony chuffed and dropped his hand down over my wrist and gave it a squeeze, pressing my hand more firmly against his sweaty belly. I spread my hand and curled my fingers to rub over his slick fur and feel the ripple of the pile of muscles he packed underneath there. That felt great, especially since it'd been ever since this morning when I last had my hands on him, all nice and proper like I did now.
Ron smirked and tilted his head a little.
"Shafts never wait when there's some fertilizing to do, Kurt," my man spoke to me.
I continued my little rub and smiled still, mirroring his own handsome grin.
"They can wait until tomorrow morning at the very least, it's no good for us to work past nine pm every day," I replied. "Would hate to see you go down with stress."
His ears flicked and tapped against the clean, white, painted wall of the house, behind him.
"Stress ain't good for a man, especially not for a farmer," my pony opinioned with a little nod of that black-furred head.
"Nah," I replied, my thumb playing with his belly button, right above those curlies I liked rubbing about when I had the chance.
Why wouldn't it have been a chance, though? There I was with my man next to me, I was already touching him, and there was no reason why I wouldn't have all I could, and then, like always, I could, happily and easily, because it was Ron, my man, and I was Kurt, his man.
I almost caught him by surprise with it, though, I guess, because he had his maw open to say something, but he didn't get the chance to speak before I had my lips touching his and I was kissing that broad muzzle of his with my own. Wasn't a shy little grandma kiss that was ain't, a good kiss from me for my man, with my hands fondling his belly and copping a hold of his arm, too. I rumbled happily into it and did my best, and our lips parted with a small smacking sound.
My man snorted and licked his lips and looked at me, head tilted a little, with his warm breath touching my face. His taste had a hint of metal to it tonight, from working under the tractor, I supposed, but it was a familiar variety and nothing uncommon when it came to my Ron. He was smiling, too, anyway, giving me the eye, THE eye, heh, just the way I liked it so much.
"Ain't someone feeling the mood in the air tonite?" my pony teased.
"Yup," I gave him a determined look.
My man slapped his hand down on my neck and let his fingers through my hair while he pulled my muzzle down to continue the kiss from where we left. It was all wet and nice now, with tongues involved, and we're mini-horses, we've got tongue to spare and muzzles to dig into with them as well. It soon felt like we were washing each other's gums, it was that wet and that mobile, what our tongues were doing. It put some good fire into my old ticker, too, not to mention what a pony packs in his pants, and a quick stroke of my own hand over his belly and down to the front of his pants told me that my man was not too far away from feeling exactly the same as I was. It was not a surprise, not at all, but still, there are few things better than once more knowing that your man's got the good old boner for you, because of you, and wanting to use it on you.
We kissed and gripped each other for quite some time, letting tongues brush and hands grab rumps, bellies and bulges and arms. My man's sweat and musk rubbed off on my shirt and meant that there was another article of clothing to be washed later on, but I hardly minded, I was carrying his scent now, after all. We swayed back and forth on the little creaking bench just big enough for two ponies to sit on, but not made for this kind of activity. That'd need for room and likely a comfortable place to lay down as well, if my hunch about his desires was in any way correct.
My hands cupped his muzzle from both sides when he finally took his lips from my own and gave me that good old look I had seen on him for the first time all those years ago, when it became obvious that this was it. I breathed heavily over his face, almost panting and braying a little with each breath, watching him watch me for a few precious seconds. His hands gripped my rump, squeezing the fleshy halves with intent.
"Let's go," he husked, much to my enjoyment.
I grinned and began to get up from our seat, though we barely got out of the tangle even when we took to our hooves and passed through the screen door into the comfortable coolness of the master bedroom, the place of our rest and our other personal business. We renewed the kiss while on our way and didn't even let it break for more than a flick of an ear when the bed crashed against the backs of my knees and we went tumbling down. It was a bit of a hard landing, sure when you get one hundred and sixty pounds of pony on top of you, but the bed knew what it was made for and took it easily.
We rolled over, kissed, groped and became a blissful pile of sweaty pony, hooves, tangled legs and arms and flicking tails and ears and rumbles that reverberated off broad chests. Whether I was on the top or under him, my hips humped against his, putting more pressure into our hot and heavy cocks certainly needing to come out of their clothed traps soon. Our bellies crashed together, out muzzles never fell apart and there were no words, because when you and your man are able to communicate in this special language, you don't really need to narrate it in any way. Grunts, huffs and rumbles were the voices, but it was our hands that made the words, gripping muscles and running through hair, or even, as tender as it was that I could hardly speak it aloud, how good it felt to get fingers stroking over your cheek, softly, and soft wasn't the first thing you ever thought when you thought about two guys getting it on.
And we were getting it on, hot and heavy, doing our usual game in the bed that had seen its good share of man on man sex over the years, not to mention the living room couch, the shower in the bathroom, the kitchen table, or the rafters of the old hay loft, but those were just special cases to what happened more often than not in the big bed we shared.
First he straddled me and looked at me with lusty eyes while he unbuttoned my jeans and peeled them off me to reveal my bulging boxers that soon joined the jeans on the floor. I laid down easily, eyeing him with a grin on my lips while my pony admired my body and my cock, too, I suppose, where it nestled against my own treasure trail and pulsed along to the rapid beat of my heart. My man licked his lips and kissed me twice on the lips as he leaned over me, before those kisses moved down over my heaving chest, towards my precious shaft. My pony grinned before he put his lips down over the tip and sucked, causing me to throw my head back and bray.
"Ahhh..." I rumbled, deep and manly, the way I did.
His rough mechanic's hand gripped my balls and rolled them in his callused palm and tugged lightly on my sack, bringing more grunts from me while I enjoyed the muzzlejob. I just about managed to reach with my hand and put it on the top of his head, in a gesture that was telling him that he was doing great at it too, keeping my cock throbbing in the warm slickness of his muzzle. His tongue was doing things around my thick shaft I couldn't even name, all the while his fingers rubbed my balls and pressed on the fleshy base of my shaft and made my tail swipe over the bed, smacking my comfortably spread thighs. I never stopped nickering or whinnying when he treated me like that, especially when his fingers played with my taint, too, rubbing over my tailhole as if it was just another patch of sweaty skin along the inner curve of my rump. There was no such a thing between us as top or bottom, only different moods, and nothing had been decided on yet. It was much easier to just relax and see what happened, with the guaranteed knowledge that whatever would take place, it would mean our skin touching, and that was what we wanted, and needed, and simply craved.
I enjoyed bucking my hips up into the warm suckle of his muzzle for a few moments, before I gave a soft tug to one of his ears and told him in a simple word that it was my turn. The grinning pony tipped his head up and licked his lips, glistening with spit and my ooze, I was sure of that, and got a confirmation when he scurried over me and plastered those lips over mine. I harrumphed a little from the cold sensation of his belt buckle pressing against my wet, hot shaft, and it was such a strange feeling that for a while we just held each other and chuckled, smiling and winking and groping each other's rumps, because sometimes that was what you did. I loved laughing in bed, it made things so much more special when you could simply laugh and accept everything that came on to you, and not start to worry about things like belt buckles.
My man rolled off me and onto his back on the bed, and that was my cue to get to work on him. I opened that belt buckle that threatened my cock earlier and then took those jeans off him without spending too much time on it., for by now I was so worked up that a more prolonged strip tease would've just been a tease, and not much fun even with all the stripping going on.
My man's thick equine prick bounced out of his underwear and slapped over his belly, rejoicing in its newly found freedom. He rumbled and leaned back, while one hand landed on my arm and he looked at me, grinning easily, his eyes inviting me back to his body.
I grabbed the thick base of his fleshy shaft and held him up from his body, so that it would be easier to slip my lips over that blunt tip, glistening with my man's juices. He tasted of sweat, salt, musk and cock, just the way I liked him, not unclean at all despite the hard day's work. I already looked forward to helping him wash himself properly in the shower after we were done, but that was going ahead of me, I had some work to do before that alright.
It's not in vacuum-like suction, the trick, but in the fact that you keep some motion over the skin at all times, for that special friction you get from spit-slickened flesh rubbing together. I used my lips, my tongue and the roof of my maw to the best of my ability, to tease and play with that meat in my muzzle, to make sure that my man got all he deserved from our special game. Sometimes I just kissed the tip and swiped it with my tongue, while I fondled his big balls in my hand and gave them just enough squeezing action to make my man grunt in that special way that also brought his tail to swivel against my wrist. He even cussed a little, which is not something he often does, but I guess it as appropriate for the occasion, for doing the deed, and for my spare hand to grip his rump as I went down on him.
"Yeah..." he panted, low and deep, eyes closed, "that's good..."
Guess he knew what he wanted and I was more than happy to oblige, considering that his words came after I rubbed my fingers down his crack and to the base of his tail. That gave me a fun idea, and made me slip my muzzle away from his cock, and let it slap over his belly again. My man grunted, briefly, and gave me a questioning look. His answer was my hands on his legs, on both sides and pushing on them. My man's eyes widened with lust.
"Yeah," he growled.
I slipped my hands under his knees and pushed them up, folding my pony over in a sense, though only enough so that I could get into the good parts of him that he wanted me to touch for the moment. I dropped his legs over to my shoulders and felt their heavy weight as a comforting knowledge of my man's presence, nothing more. It also freed my hands to jerk him off a little, teasingly, while I kissed and licked his big, fuzzy sac and made those balls jingle within their leathery home. The slurping sounds I made drove both of us crazy and helped to add to the musk that filled my senses, covering my tongue and embedded deeply into my nose, taken in with every breath. His tail might've been tickling my throat, but that was hardly a problem when I got a face full of my favorite pony, grunting and huffing while my tongue tasted his skin. His cock pulsed in my palm, oozing more slickness over my fingers with each lazy stroke along his length. It was good.
It only became better when I let my tongue slip lower, past the tasty sac and to the taint of his rump, inviting further naughty deeds from me. It wasn't something we always did, but the mood was there, he was clean, if musky, and it was simply natural to help me to fill his desire, and this time it involved my tongue going along its slippery path into his taint. The long curly hairs sprouting from his crack tickled my tongue while it slid down along the muscled, sweaty curves, giving me a good taste of his deepest reaches, on my way to the spot at the base of his swaying tail. I had touched his tailhole briefly during the earlier blowjob, nudged the thick muscle with my fingertips, but now it came under the attack of my tongue, quite the apprioriate tool for that job, too. My man's ankles pressed over firmly to my shoulder blades as soon as he felt my breath followed by my tongue, rubbing his pucker wetly and raspily, stroking across the meaty, slightly protruding opening. He clenched down on himself, the firm muscle dimpling down into the burrow of his anus, though that only served to invite even more eager tonguing action from yours truly. It was what he wanted and I was not one to let my man down, and going down on his rump was hardly anything out of the ordinary. The grunts and moans and the firm pulsing of that little muscled hole were more than enough to tell me that he was enjoying the treatment, too, and his cock kept on throbbing against my slick fingers, a hint of the messy offering I knew he was capable of when he busted his nut.
"Ahh...ah...shit..."
Not the wordiest man in bed, I know, but it was good for me, and it was good for him, while I went down on him and did everything the Bible tells you not to do, chewing on his taint and covering it with my saliva and with lewd intentions. His nickering made my ears flick nearly constantly, made my own breaths into huffs and kept my own cock steel hard, throbbing against my belly.
"Get it...ahshit...get it in," he groaned, finally, after an untold time of teasing him, causing another surge of arousal to fill me in the instant those words reached my ears.
I gave him a look, leaving his taint in peace for now, lifting my head so that I could look at him across his heaving belly, and saw the look of utter lust on his face. I needed no further invitation.
"Sure," I grinned, putting my hands up to his ankles so that I could slip then down from my shoulders.
I didn't have to move from my position, kneeling between his spread legs, for my man could easily reach the nightstand and toss the crinkled tube at me, along with my pillow, which he snatched from my side of the bed before throwing that at me as well. He wriggled his butt a little when I pushed the pillow under it to put his hips into a proper position for later on, and then simply laid down, his tail flicking from one side to another while he watched me twist the tube open. It was the typical stuff form the pharmacy, took a little moment for me to open the cap, but then it wasn't so difficult to squeeze a good amount of the stuff onto my hand. I added a little bit more for good measure and then put the tube away.
"Hurry," my pony hissed.
I almost gasped at the lust filling his voice, the power of it, the almost commanding nature of the man who was telling me to hurry to get my cock into his ass, and it was coming from none other than my man. How could I have not done exactly as he said?
"Just hold on," I breathed, rubbing my fingers quickly together to make them wet and nice.
"Humph."
I smeared my fingers over his taint and applied a good dose of the lube over his pucker before I pressed my thumb against that quivering ring of muscle and pushed. My man grunted but it was not one caused by pain, I knew as much from the easy way how my slick finger slipped past his ring and into his warmth, welcomed in by a squeeze that had to be deliberate, it was not the reflex-like grip that often welcomed you when taking someone like that. My man knew how to do it properly and he was putting all that skill into use, even if it was just my finger yet. What that promised for the future...it almost made me breathless.
"I'm good," he rumbled after only a couple of rounds of my thumb rubbing the inner rim of his hole, spreading the lube evenly over his tender skin.
I withdrew from him with a slick sound that made my ears flick. He breathed out deeply.
I could hardly wait myself. There was more than enough of the slick stuff left on my hand that it made for a good layer over my own pre-dripping cock. I grumbled at the contact of wet hand and smooth, slippery skin, and only risked a couple of strokes before I was done.
This time he lifted his legs up for me, helped by the pillow that made the angle just perfect for the practiced, easy lining up I did, lifting his legs to my shoulders again, because that way I could assume the position I liked best while we did this, face to face. My cock slid between his rump cheeks and found his hole, aided by one of my hands while the other cupped his neck. We looked at each other, smiled, breathed, and licked each other's lips, really getting into the heat of a kiss, even when I stood poised at his gates.
"Come on," he breathed again.
I pushed.
"Ngggghh..."
I pushed again and kissed him, lightly, biting down my teeth when I pushed and pushed, letting my slick tip press firmly into his pucker. It didn't take too much negotiation, our bodies knew each other well, and whatever was to be overtaken was zealous reflex, and all that was needed was a hint of patience, however difficult that might be amidst the lust that held us together.
It still made both of us gasp when my thick tip pierced his hole and slipped into him, past through the grip of his ring and into the warm tunnel beyond. It was only moderately slicked with the lube from before, but I knew that every push into him would bring more. His body tensed, briefly, like it always did, and I kept still, poised on my knees, resting over him, our chest touching, our muzzles glued together, while his hands gripped my shoulders and held me close. It was intimate and it was erotic and it was full of lust, our bodies were about to join, I took him as soon as I could, in a series of little bucks of my hips that drove every inch of me into him. My tail swished over my rump, tense from the effort of keeping still when my instincts told me to just keep going, but I knew that he needed a moment - I needed a moment, to catch my breath.
Our breathing was rough and our bodies strained, and as soon as the first moment passed, we were in motion, rocking, rolling and all that in between, putting our stamina onto a real test. My pony brayed and vibrated, letting our tongues touch and play while we kissed, hotly, steadily, keeping our bodies joined from knee to the tips of our noses. It was full body friction, from the slide of my cock inside him to our sweaty bellies and chest rubbing together, with my tongue teasing his, his touching mine, and our hands moved and gripped everything they could find, staying for a moment before they moved along in search of the next target. He had more mobility in that respect and treated my rump to a plenty of squeezes, while mine mostly concentrated onto his neck and his shoulders, I needed to keep my elbows steady so that I didn't crush him, after all. I got my fair share, though, and it was a pleasant addition to the heat of the moment, of the constant rock of my hips as I drove into his tightness. I knew from the throb of his thick pony prick against my belly that I was doing something right, likely battering that little nub inside his rear passage with ever pass of my shaft, pumping him from within and causing more of that oozing clear fluid to pass between our bodies. Sometimes I jerked him off at the same time as I thrust into him, but this time it felt more important to simply hold him, to enjoy feeling him, and giving him all of me, unhindered by awkward angles.
Give I did, thrusting and gyrating my hips to alternate the angles accordingly. My balls slapped his slippery taint on occasion, the pace wasn't quite hard enough to make any particular noises, it wasn't a porn flick banging I was giving to my man but a slow, needed ramming that was meant to keep us on the edge for as long as possible before the inevitable happened and there was no stopping. The bedsprings added a bit of bounce to it, making it easier, even easier to slide myself in and out of my man, to make sure that we kept moving, sliding, pumping, doing everything that there was to the basic mechanics of this whole doing it in the butt business, and I might say that we knew what we were doing.
It must've been only minutes later before it was upon me, that moment when the world slips away from you and the only thing you know is your man, the heat, the musk, and the feeling skin on skin. That's what I felt when I thrust into him, faster, feeling the burn grown, spread, become stoked, stroked, and with some gas poured on it for good effect, before someone, this time, Ron, threw the match at it.
"Nghhhh!"
I pressed my lips against his collarbone when I came, a deep burst of heat that was accompanied by the pour of my seed into him. My hips still rocked, he rocked, pressing himself back to me to encourage me to keep going, he was moaning and gripping men intimately while I drooled over his shoulder, lost to the control of my faculties. The heat coursed through my spine and made me light-headed and forced me to close my eyes. His hands held me, making sure our bodies were in full contact for the moment, there were no words, just heat.
I almost ended up crushing my pony, too, and rested on top of him for a long panting moment, before his fingertips poking on my back roused me from the stupor, and I caught his eyes, still full of heat, looking at me with that panting intensity you wouldn't find from any other situation. I still throbbed within him, spent for the moment, but I knew that wasn't the case on his part yet.
"Saddle up," he grunted, using his favorite term.
The heat rushed through me again, full force, from the simple effect of his words. They prompted me into action, to move, to make myself, with a hint of regret, to slide myself out of him, and to search for the abandoned tube I had tossed away earlier. I found it nearby, where my knees had been before, and picked it up, my eyes never leaving the shape of my man, lying on the bed, panting still.
I pulled the pillow off from under his ass and threw it off to the side, not wanting to waste any more time. I knew what he wanted, what I wanted, and it took me no time at all to squeeze some lube onto my palm and apply that to his hard, slick, sweaty cock, standing at full attention over his belly. I licked my lips at the sight of it, how thick it was, already imagining how it would feel in only a moment, going under my flicking tail.
"Hurry."
I neighed, softly, watching him still while I rubbed an extra portion of lube onto my fingers and pushed them at my taint. I rumbled when I found my own experienced pucker and gave it a quick coating. I knew that this was not going to last long, but some preparation was still necessary, and quickly done.
My man patted his belly and grinned.
"Come on."
I heaved myself up and promptly sat down on him, my own slick, still hard prick showing the way when I dropped my rump over his muscular belly. I put my knees on either side of him and straddled my man, my hands spread over his chest for balance when I pushed my hips back, presenting my rump for him. I felt his hand grab one of my rump cheeks, giving it a squeeze.
"Yeah..." I breathed out.
His face scowled with concentration, especially when I felt the poke of his cocktip under my tail, quickly pushed and guided into place with his hand. I whinnied at the hot sensation, deeply aroused despite my recent climax.
My heart hadn't even had the time to stop racing.
It was a joint effort to get me speared on him, but we managed well, doing what we always did on times like this, to make it pass as easily as possible. I bore down on him and he guided me with his hands, making sure that I would not accidentally slip off him, or cause his cock to bend uncomfortably from sudden weight on it. We breathed hard, grunted and nickered, sounding like race horses with our breathing, neighing from the exertion in our bodies brought on by our eroticism. He spread me open well, too, letting that thick shaft push through my pucker and into me on a slow, constant slide that left me biting my lip. It didn't hurt, but it was much, and he was a tad thicker than I was, anyway. I was full by the time my balls slapped against his pubes and he was in.
I threw me head back and began to ride him, deciding that it would not be so polite to keep my man waiting for what he wanted and had possibly almost reached from the simple poking of my cock, driving deeply into his rump. The internal stimulation wasn't always quite enough, however, and now I was giving him everything he needed to get off, inside me, the way it was meant to be.
That doesn't mean it wasn't a proper ride, even if it only lasted for half a minute. He bucked up hard to me, driving himself past my grip and into my tail tunnel, fucking me as hard as I had done him, and even harder, helped my knees that acted as a springy shock absorbers and actually let him do much more movement than he could have done if I'd simply been sitting flat on him. I didn't have to move so much myself, I simply held on and allowed him to have his way with me, to propel himself towards the orgasm I craved to give to him with my body. It took some sweating determination, sure, but I was into it and gave him all that was his worth, rocking myself on my bronco pony and enjoying the sensation of him filling me completely.
He churned me well, too, no matter how long it took him, but when he gripped me hard and threw his head back and whinnied to signal his imminent burst, I sat down on him firmly and let him fill me up, braying my own pleasure in the fact that I had my lover inside me, cumming inside me, too, filling me as much as he could.
I crashed down on him, so that he almost slipped away from my aching rump, not quite, though, the thick tip remained inside me and plugged me good, while I was face to face with him again, hugging my man with my hands and my arms and my knees, our messy, sweaty, musky bodies in full contact once more, now that we reached kissing distance.
It was he who kissed me first, putting a hand over my neck and pulling me close, helping us to share that first kiss in the post-orgasmic glow, our bodies swimming with sensation and heat. It felt so good to rest against his muscular chest, to feel him inside me, and know that my seed was inside him as well, the same way as the slowly dripping spunk was inside my own rump as well, marking me as his.
Dunno what you think, but for me, that was the best.
*
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