# Poco -- A True Story

Author: Care A Lot
Tags: Bestiality, High School, Horse, Human, M/M, Masturbation, Oral

True

This all went down sometime when I was going to high school in a northeastern part of Florida.&nbsp; I was seventeen, or eighteen, and had not yet met the influential alcohol, or drugs, part of my life yet.&nbsp; I was lucky.&nbsp; I knew that alcohol, and drugs, were _bad_, but not from first-hand experience.&nbsp; My things were sex, and Stephen King, and not in that order.

My parents had built a house on a ten-acre piece of land, in a town I will call, for the sake of anonymity, Blanton.&nbsp; A three bed (one used for an office), two bath (one master), one living, one breakfast nook, one kitchen, one dining room, a mudroom, and one hell of a front yard, and back yard.&nbsp; The place was _awes_kinds of shit.&nbsp; When the house was built, though, it was beautiful; I mean, the land.&nbsp; It was pure, and open, with a circlular lake in the middle of the front, and a good-sized dirt driveway down the right side.&nbsp; The house was real cool, and I mean air-conditioned, man.&nbsp; Self air-conditioned, you dig?&nbsp; A beautiful home.&nbsp; Out back, a gated backyard, and then, a little "farm" area, I guess you could say, for lack of a better word.

To be honest, this is the first time I have ever talked about this house in about twenty years, a long time.&nbsp; And, talking about the following experience to a mass audience?&nbsp; Never.&nbsp; I smirk now thinking about it.&nbsp; I wish I could talk about it at a campfire, with a bunch of hot furs, and not-so-hot furs under a gorgeous moonlight.&nbsp;

This is my story.&nbsp; In 1995 or about, my parents purchased, or borrowed, a horse named Poco.&nbsp; I know not what kind of horse it was, nor did it matter, nor does it matter.&nbsp; What matters is that it was a male horse, and it had that _scent_.&nbsp;

In none of my Stephen King books was bestiality ever mentioned.&nbsp; As far as I knew, Stephen King was a straight "vanilla" man, M/F.&nbsp; I, on the other hand, had already jumped the hurdle into sexual deviancy a long time ago.&nbsp; Go figure, for at 13, or so, my first view of sex came from the screen of a porn video at my stepcousin's house in Westfield, MA; I guess a 70's movie of a woman giving a man a blowjob, and the cum looked like mayonnaise (well, at least, that's the way I described it to my 7th grade classmates the following Monday).&nbsp;

I was about a junior in high school, and for the most part, innocent.&nbsp; I mean, I went to church every Sunday, was a "Born-Again" Christian, did very well in school, well-disciplined, and, for the most part, knew right from wrong.&nbsp; Like I said, my main dilemmas were sex, Stephen King, and edgy alternative music.&nbsp; I knew all the bands, and top albums:&nbsp; Bush, "Sixteen Stone"; The Smashing Pumpkins, "Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness"; Alanis Morrisette, "Jagged Little Pill", back when musicians were, more or less, self produced, and did not read the record companies to give them musical ideas; the bands had their own ideas, and were just _awesome_.

I was also much into furdom, although I did not see it as such back then.&nbsp; To me, "furdom" was a block of reality in my mind, and today, still is.&nbsp; In 1995, my human comrades appeared to be less than ideal friends, and they were more or less out for themselves, in terms of intellectualism, morality, Christianity, popularity, and the like.&nbsp; To be accepted, I had the feeling that I would have to fend for myself, and furdom paradise seemed like an optional exit.&nbsp; I would not have to try too hard to be accepted.&nbsp; I was already cool.&nbsp; I was already myself, and natural.&nbsp; The furs in Disney movies, like "Robin Hood", and "The Fox and The Hound", were already genuine in their loving spirit, and natural.&nbsp; We were meant for each other.&nbsp;

The problem was, I had been receiving sexual satisfaction, and release, from my hand.&nbsp; It did not seem fair.&nbsp; Why was it that a guy who was so cool, and natural, in school, and who was well-liked, although was not invited to a lot of social activities, was still a virgin?&nbsp; I did not want the whole Christian image no longer.&nbsp; I wanted to step out, and be vibrant, and alive.&nbsp; I wanted a voice, an edge, and a claim to myself so I would have never to look again for what I was pursuing now, which was, well, _something_.

When it came to the opposite sex, my biggest dream was getting a blowjob in the men's room.&nbsp; Yeah, big ambitions.&nbsp; Southern girls, cheerleaders, and such, are pretty hot, and I wanted some.&nbsp; But, next to the studs on the football team, "cowboys", "real intellectuals" that were going to, like, the University of Florida, well, I kind of felt "left out".&nbsp; Sure, I was smart, and all, and was popular in a "in-school" kind of way, but I was not going to be receiving a blowjob in the bathroom anytime soon.&nbsp;

As far as being homosexual, I cannot ever remember considering that on a serious level.&nbsp; To be honest, I cannot ever remember even considering homosexuality as a valid option.&nbsp; It was not that I was closed-minded, or held any prejudices; I was sheltered, and had just been around straight sex all my life.&nbsp; Well, besides the porn movie, I had never been around _any_ sex, besides my hand, and I.&nbsp;

Well, that's a whole different story.&nbsp; I had been masturbating since I was 14.&nbsp; Now, that was a delight.&nbsp; I discovered it my first winter in Florida, with the help of a soft, gentle, feather duster.&nbsp; Holy shit, I think I had tried to rub myself with it one time before in the bathroom, and it had felt so good.&nbsp; I remember rolling the sweet furry duster all over my fresh, pubescent cock that was planted firm as a rock inside my tight underwear, and how good, and how powerless I had felt against its sweet, sultry caresses.&nbsp; However, I don't believe it was until the second time that I had reached orgasm, and OMG.&nbsp; My stiff little dick was bouncing all around inside my tighty whities, and I came all over the feather duster.&nbsp; That sweet, cock-sucking feather duster was my girlfriend (or boyfriend) that night, and I had given it a zesty facial on my first orgasm over.&nbsp;

That was almost twenty-one years old.&nbsp; I'm old, an old fart, heh heh.&nbsp; Well, not quite, but I'm getting there.&nbsp;

Anyways, enough of the backstory.&nbsp;

So, my parents get this horse, and it's called Poco.&nbsp; I think it's a pretty fucking stupid name, and I want nothing to do with it.&nbsp; I don't even like horses.&nbsp; I think they're a bunch of bitches, because whenever I would try to pet them, they would run away, and I would think, _Motherfuckers._ My stepmother's brother, Dwayne, (I think he was the one who gave us the horse) had horses, and they would always turn from me, too, when I tried to be cool with them.&nbsp;

We also had three dogs, too:&nbsp; Lilly, and Baby, were both black Labradors, and Rosie, was kind of a mutt.&nbsp; My Dad thought she was kind of a Beagle/Golden Labrador mix.&nbsp; I loved my dogs.&nbsp; They were a never-ending source of amusement for me, with their funny doggie ways, and their own language.&nbsp; They were personal, and did not run away.&nbsp; Shoot, they would even sniff my crotch at times.&nbsp; Hell, maybe they wanted to suck my cock at times!&nbsp; That would have been a laugh (or a moan, or both!)

So, one afternoon, it was after school, and my parents had to go out somewhere.&nbsp; I forgot where (hell, it's been about twenty years.)&nbsp; Anyways, they were going to be gone for several hours, and, well, as of late, I had been thinking of doing . . . something.&nbsp;

You see, I had never _had_ sex, besides masturbation.&nbsp; And, masturbation carries just so far.&nbsp; And, I had been wondering, well . . .

I couldn't do it with my dogs.&nbsp; I don't even think I had considered it, but if I had, I wouldn't.&nbsp; You see, they were the first dogs that I had ever trusted in my life, and they meant much to me.&nbsp; Sex just didn't seem fair to me, and them, together, if it had occurred to me in the first place (which it may have.)&nbsp;

Then, Poco.&nbsp;

High school is a dilemma already known.&nbsp; To _ask_ a human being to have sex, and then rejection, well, shit.&nbsp; On the other hand . . .

My parents were gone, and Poco was in the fenced-in, farm area.&nbsp; I think it was a Tuesday, or Wednesday afternoon, and a nice, sunny one at that.&nbsp; Somehow, it should have occurred to me that what I was doing was homosexual, or deviant.&nbsp; I knew it was deviant, but _gay_?&nbsp; No, I was straight; I was just desperate . . . or was I?&nbsp; It didn't matter.&nbsp; I knew I needed attention, and now was the time of truth.

I don't remember taking off my shirt, or whatever.&nbsp; I know I had my clothes on, and I know I had left my dogs inside.&nbsp; They might have been watching me inside, thinking, _WTF_?&nbsp; I came around the left side to Poco, and I began to talk seductive to it, petting its' dirty brown fur, saying stupid shit, like "Hey, Poco", in real low voices.&nbsp; It's eyes were wide, and it's ears were perked.&nbsp; Petting it slow, I placed my hand to my nose, and smelled an amazing musk, such that I had never smelled before.&nbsp; I began to get a little stiff, but did not began to masturbate.&nbsp; It was Poco I wanted to please, and, if possible, make come inside me.&nbsp;

Now, why did I want Poco?&nbsp; I hated horses.&nbsp; Well, now that I think about it while I am writing, I think that's because I was doing it.&nbsp; I think, deep past my hatred, I did love him, as I loved horses, despite their constant negative response to me.&nbsp; At the time, I felt that maybe this was a very special way of showing my affections, a way that I could not show my classmates, for lack of possibility.&nbsp; I was a lone individual, however smart, and spiritual I was.&nbsp; No matter how "Born-Again" I was, I needed attention as bad as maybe my friend that I hated/loved so much did.&nbsp;

His cock came out of his sheath, and it was huge.&nbsp; I got envious, and wanted one as big as that.&nbsp; I think I thought "God gypped me."&nbsp; It may have occurred to me that humans get the short end of everything, while animals are gifted with the best.&nbsp; To hell with spiritual insight, intellect, and wisdom; what I wanted was sexual longevity, and the ability to have a fifteen-inch cock!&nbsp; I still think that God has screwed us!

The cock was dirty; I mean, it was caked with dry dirt, for it had not been washed.&nbsp; Yes, it was dirty, but it was long, and it looked tasty.&nbsp; It looked yummy to a young man who had never been someone's, or something's, whore before, and I was willing.&nbsp;

For the next fifteen minutes or so, or maybe it had been less than that, I worked my mouth around a few inches of it, sucking at it as best I could, on my knees.&nbsp; I forget every single second of the experience, if I moaned all the time, or said anything.&nbsp; I think once, or twice, I had to coax the cock out again from its' sheath.&nbsp; It never kicked me in the face, so I guess I was pleasing Poco somewhat good.&nbsp; I was happy, for sure.&nbsp; I was just hoping that my immediate lover was, as well.

Then, he walked off.&nbsp; Goddamn!&nbsp; I believe I went after him.&nbsp; Well, I know I did, but I don't think I tried to suck him off again.&nbsp; I relished in the experience, though.&nbsp; However, I was not finished, yet.&nbsp; Someone was coming, goddamnit, and it was going to be me, for chrissakes.&nbsp;

I took off what was, I am sure, my t-shirt, and walked up to one of Poco's sides, and commenced to rub my hands all over his sides, rubbing them heavy, and deep.&nbsp; I smelled them deep, and good, and they were solid, and ready for action.

I went about seventy feet, or so, off to my left, so that I was well-hidden.&nbsp; All the time, I was hoping my parents would not come back home, but I was pretty sure they would not.&nbsp; They had just left, and said they would not be back for a while.&nbsp; I had nothing too much to worry about.

Dropping my jeans, with one hand up to my nose to immerse my senses with incredible horse musk, I commenced to jerk off my already beautiful soldiered boner.&nbsp; What followed was just beautiful; whatever I had failed to give Poco, was what I gave myself.&nbsp; After just about a minute, and with Poco's own scent in my mind, and body, I orgasmed everywhere, splattering the ground around me, and my hand, and belly.&nbsp; I am pretty sure I thought _Holy shit_!&nbsp;

That is the story, and for what I can remember, is true, all of it.&nbsp; Ever since then, I have still wanted to do it again.&nbsp; It is such a shame that bestiality is such a problem in this goddamn country.&nbsp; I have gone on search engines, and checked up on search engines, and looked up _sexual deviancy_.&nbsp; Nothing but how it can be cured.&nbsp; I do not want to be cured of it.&nbsp; I like my sexual deviancy.&nbsp; It is me, and it is apparent that God, or Satan, wanted me this way.&nbsp; I like who I am, and I am thrilled that I can give a horse a thrill.&nbsp; I hope that, in the future, I can do it all over again.

Source: https://sofurry.com/s/ZmMWYKz1