FSE

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I know a lot of reasons why you should love horses. First, because they are not modest at all about their dimensions (if you know what I mean); second, because they are mild and they don't boast about their paroxysmal gifts, belittling other people. What do you think I'm talking about? Surely I'm not discussing about their penises, which are proportionate to their enormous physique after all. I'm talking about their "natural products". Oh yeah, as well as they are modest and meek, they know how to be generous, under this point of view! But now I want to tell you about an experience which saw me protagonist in the second person. Before we start, I must specify that I'm not a horse, unfortunately! But I have hooves and I graze the grass too. Besides, I have two very elegant horns which crown my white innocent face. I'm a goat, as you'll see by now.

The horse who I want to talk you about was my classmate, my best friend, Dave. He was much popular at school: both for his tonnage and because no one dared to contradict him, even if he knew how to be kind with everyone, despite of his detached attitude. To him social relations in the institute were more an occasional formality, which lessened when the lessons were over. I was the only one who maintained extra scholastic relations with him. Almost every day we went at home together. We walked for 30 minutes, without taking the bus. Maybe I was okay to him because I had hooves like him - in fact, you need to know that there were very few bovines or equines in that school! You know when we say "a bunch of ignorant sheep", that's because it's true for most of us (though I can leave me out, luckily).

This incident I want to talk you about happened a day of March. It was a rainy airy day, and in the classroom there was a dormant atmosphere which reflected the weather outside. The clatter of the drops on the windows resembled to the sound of piss which dashes on the surface of urinals. I sit next to Dave, as any other day, while I was lost in thought I brooded about the opportunity to do one of my dirty things once returned home. I was really horny that day! Maybe because I had forgotten to jerk off that week, so I felt all the erotic tension concentrated in my crotch. Unawares, and this happened to me often, I was opening and closing my legs slowly, pressing my balls and cock between my thighs. My penis became hard. I liked to feel horny when I was in class, it helped me to counteract boredom.

Sometimes I gazed at the low parts of my friend, always expecting to find a huge reply to my curiosity. Even if he wasn't horny, he had a considerable bulge between his legs, and I loved to look at that without him noticing me. But that day he was strangely restless. His eyes were bloodshot, his nose was overly damp and sometimes he dried it with a tissue, then he was wearing winter clothes. At first glance, he seemed to be sick. However, I couldn't understand why he hadn't stayed at home; if he had took example from me, he would have been in the bed even for a simple cold, perhaps wearing a diaper, which is very useful if you cannot get out of bed! Dave was a very assiduous student, he never disappointed his teachers. I whispered to him leaning on his side, while keeping my eyes on the teacher:

<< Hey, what's going on? It doesn't appear that you feel good. >>

He dried his nose for the umpteenth time and then he replied with a hoarse voice:

<< I guess I've slept bad tonight. So I woke up with this sore throat and this cold. >>

I tried to reassure him the best I could, making him laugh:

<< Come on, what if you had diarrhea? You think you would been here as well and make your good impression like the student model you are? >>

He looked at me in a way I couldn't decode, and he said annoyed:

<< Don't joke. I hope my bowel stops making noises. >>

What I heard surprised me, I became curious and I wanted to thoroughly investigate:

<< Oh, so you need to go for real! I couldn't imagine. Well, you can ask the teacher to go to the restroom, if you feel bad. This lesson is so boring that the teacher would come with you gladly, just to take a break. >>

He nodded smiling. Meanwhile I noticed he brought the hand to his belly to warm.

Anyway, that lesson lapsed peacefully and, though I hoped really much that he would have been a little more desperate, Dave remained quiet all the time, keeping warm his belly. At the end of the class, we met at the lockers to put down our books, since we had a Biology test in the next two hours. Regretfully, I recommended him to go to the bathroom now, because then he wouldn't had the opportunity to go. But he replied that he was feeling better, and the agitation for the test didn't was dangerous for his diarrhea because he was not worried. Meanwhile he was drinking hot tea from a thermos flask he brought from his home, consuming it all - apparently, because of the lack of fluids caused by the sickness. The bell rang and immediately we entered the classroom and we sat in separate desks. Tests were given and we started to work.

From the windows again there was that sound of rain, which spurred my will to pee, even if I didn't have to go desperately. The test took place regularly for a hour, without any important detail to tell. But during the second hour, while I was checking the answers on my test, I looked absently at Dave. He had both his hands between his legs, they were kept tightly close. My imagination began to work again and I started hoping that he would have lost control just that little time to see his pants get stained. There was still a half a hour to the end of the test. His huge bulge throbbed, maybe due to the pressure that his hands exerted on it. He was horny, desperate and in difficulty; I adore this kind of situations. I took a quick peek at his sheet and I realised he hadn't finished his test yet, perhaps because he was prevented due to the uneasiness. He couldn't asked to go to the toilet as long as he didn't deliver the test. And, anyway, he didn't seem to care, because both his hands were occupied trying to avoid the unavoidable. Suddenly, I saw him wince and he raised his hands looking at his low parts dazed. A dark stain expanded on the right side of his jeans, then the stream stopped.

"Why he's not delivering the test right now? He can retrieve it easily, but he'll not be able to regain his dignity." I thought.

But no way, sometimes I saw a trickle of pee coming out of his penis, which now was very visible on the right side of his wet pants. After about 10 minutes, drops began to fall from the chair, but no one noticed because the sound of rain was stronger. Now that I'm thinking about it, he could have made a lot before someone would have noticed, apart from me. Abruptly, I heard a hum, similar to the one you hear when someone is very hungry. The origin of that noise was not distinguishable, and no one seemed to care, precisely because there was nothing strange: someone could have been hungry. However, it came from Dave's bowel. In fact, as soon as I heard it, I looked at him, and at the same time my cock became hard. Dave was slightly lifted from the chair on his powerful quadriceps and slowly something was swelling in the back of his pants. The slurry consistency of that matter stained his pants instantly. Then he managed to stop, but thereupon a certain smell was circulating in the air. I was really entranced, but I felt terribly sorry for him for what was happening against his will. I said to myself: "If it happens to him, it could be happening to me as well." So I tried to pull out everything I need to do to show my support, even if no one was still aware of Dave's accident. I felt a slight pressure in my bladder and I decided to let all my pee out. The amount of that didn't wet my pants completely, but a little waterfall generated between the chair and the floor. The noise was not humble, so that it woke someone in the classroom and I heard a boy behind me saying:

<< Nanny is pissing himself! >> And everybody gazed at me amused. I turned to him coping his glance and I said presumptuously:

<< At least I don't hide notes in my ass like you enjoy doing during every test. >>

Then I immediately delivered my sheet, asking the teacher to let me go to the nursery and change myself. She agreed and I was out of the classroom, but I chose to wait. Some minutes later, in fact, I heard loud laughters originating from the classroom and a few seconds later Dave exited from there with an extremely distraught aspect, but I was there precisely to comfort him. I hugged him. I touched his ass (this precious opportunity couldn't be wasted), but I realised he didn't load his pants completely: there was the same amount of poop he did before, no more. He reciprocated my hug and again I felt his incredibly swollen penis pressing against my legs. The heat of his pants merged with mine. So we warmed lovingly. But I heard footsteps. Therefore I took his hand and I brought him with me outside, walking out the emergency exit door on the back. Those hours were the last two of the lessons, after these, we would have come back to home. It wouldn't be bad, if we had gone some minutes earlier. Just when we were out I wanted to ask him:

<< How do you feel? You don't seem so sorry for what happened! >> I said while I was poking confidentially his hard penis.

He found hard to talk, and perhaps that question was too outspoken. So I kept silent and I approached to his ear, and I whispered solely a command:

<< Now you end what you began, I always desired to see which other great things equines can do. >>

He turned back with his long face looking in my direction. Though his eyes were directed to downwards, he had became shy. Therefore, I tried to put him at ease, showing him how much I would have liked to see him doing that. I kneeled and squashed my face into the back of his pants. I breathed deeply to appreciate all its essence. Then, I felt a soft and roundish tip pushing on my nose. My muzzle moistened fastly while the back of his pants was taking a form more and more uneven, made heavy by an increasing load which was infinitely reproducing itself - so it seemed. I couldn't believe my eyes: a horse is truly able to taking off his pants without using his hands; it was enough to shit in them to take them off. I touched him in every way I could imagine, I was enthusiastic. I tasted it, I sniffed it, I listened to the sound which his jeans produced while they expanded and the sound which came from his anus, it dilated and at the same time it released an incredible amount of organic matter. Maybe I came without touching myself, such was the wonder; anyway, I couldn't recognize the stains on my pants, if they belonged to my bladder or to my testes.

But, with our tremendous and awful surprise, the last bell of the day rang. So we hurled into some bushes nearby, even if we knew that no one would have exited from the back door. To reduce the damage, I took off his pants and tried to unload what he had produced on the grass. The only one thing I couldn't avoid was the smell which came from him and which was spreading all around for several meters, neither I couldn't wash the stains in some way. But I saw in his eyes that he was grateful. When he found the courage to return the look, I realised he was already kissing me. So I grasped his shoulders and I hugged him the tightest I could.

Coming back home, a lot of people noticed what we had done, but it wasn't important the opinion of other people, because the only true judgment which could ever have had a value for me was that one given by love. The same love I felt that day, the same love I feel for him today. Now that we live in the same room at college.