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It was nearly a week later when Anson saw Kerry again. During that time he'd been slightly out of it, musing over his unorthodox relation with the young pup. Even his father had commented on his distracted state, which he explained away as being focussed on an upcoming test that he wasn't sure he'd pass.

The more he thought about it, the more conflicted he felt. Having an attraction for someone half his age was one thing, but having sex with her was quite another. He knew that he would get into a lot of trouble if his intimacy with Kerry was found out, and he was sure that Kerry would have trouble of her own.

Due to his preoccupation with thinking about Kerry and the possible problems and repercussions that could occur, he didn't pay much attention in class, and ended up with an after-school detention twice. The day after the second one he was walking out of the school gate when he saw Kerry waiting for him. "Kerry!" he exclaimed, rather surprised to see her there.

"Hey, Anson!" the pup replied, her eyes seeming to light up with pleasure at seeing her equine friend again. She ran up to him and gave him a tight hug around his lower body. "I got an A on my spelling test!"

"Congratulations," Anson responded, crouching down and returning the hug properly. "And I got a B-minus on my geography test. Not too bad, considering I really hate Geography." He stood up again and looked around. "Wanting to come home with me again, are you?"

"Uh-huh! If that's okay," Kerry added, looking up at Anson with her soft brown eyes. "I told Mum I was going to help out in the library, so I'd be late home."

Anson peered down at Kerry's eager face. It seemed to him that she was starting to get a little more crafty with her reasons for not coming home on time. "One of these days these little lies of yours are going to get you into trouble," he said.

"I know," Kerry replied with an impish grin, "but until they do, I make the most of them."

After a few seconds Anson eventually responded. "You sound quite mature for your age, you know. Anyway, if you want some fun we'd better get going. Short and quick today, I think."

They stopped at the dairy on the way, getting ice cream again, and by the time they'd reached Anson's house they were licking the last of the melted confection off their fingers. "Now, where'd I put that key," Anson muttered as he searched his pockets. "Ah, here it is." He unlocked the front door and entered. Kerry followed close behind, closing the door.

Anson flopped down onto his bed once they were in his room. His shorts were already starting to tent up, a fact that didn't go unnoticed by Kerry. Her chubby little fingers were soon rubbing over the thickening bulge and trying to get the buttons undone. "Kerry," Anson murmured as first one button, then another was unfastened, relieving some of the tension on his erection. "Before you go any further...I want to talk to you about something."

The pup stopped trying to get Anson's cock out of his shorts and looked up at him, a querying look on her face.

Anson pushed himself into an upright position, shuffling back until his back was against his bed's headboard. "Well...I want to talk about this...relationship we seem to be having. Um." The horse paused for thought, trying to figure out how to phrase his words. "You and I...we shouldn't be having sex. At all. I mean...you're only seven, and I'm over twice your age."

"So?" Kerry climbed up onto the bed and moved herself up to sit beside Anson, leaning against him. "My mum's a lot older than my dad is."

"Um...okay, bad example. Okay...have you ever asked your parents about something, and was told, 'You'll find out when you're older'?"

Kerry nodded emphatically. "Uh-huh! They've said that lots of times!"

"Well...sex is one of those things. You're supposed to be around my age before you have sex." Anson stroked his fingers gently over Kerry's floppy ears. "If an adult has sex with someone your age, they could get into a lot of trouble, and probably be put in jail."

"Why?" came the inevitable question.

"Because...because cubs often don't know that what they're doing is wrong, and some adults take advantage of that," Anson explained, idly noticing that his erection had gone down. "People aren't ready for sex until they're about sixteen - it's not just your body that has to grow up, but your mind. Your body hasn't had time to grow big enough to handle a big cock like mine. When you're my age, you'd probably be able to take all of it inside you." He paused for a few seconds before continuing. "Adults sometimes prefer cubs because they haven't grown yet; they feel really tight when they're fucking them, and that feels really good." Anson squirmed a little to get into a more comfortable position; this discussion was making him distinctly uneasy.

A long silence developed, eventually broken by Kerry's voice again. "So...it's wrong for you to fuck me?" At Anson's nod she replied, "But I like it! It feels really good! And I like your cum; it's all gooey and sticky and yummy!"

Anson chuckled a little. "Yeah, cum is like that. Anyway, you might like sex, but others don't. I've seen videos of dads having sex with their cubs - a lot of them were crying, or just lying there looking sad as they were fucked. You're an exception." His expression was impassive, his voice tinted with something akin to regret. He sighed heavily. "You're a great little pup, Kerry, and I've enjoyed the fun we've had together, but...we really shouldn't do it any more. We could get caught, and we'd both get into a lot of trouble - particularly me."

Kerry nodded slowly, leaning against her equine friend. "So I shouldn't see you any more? Ever?"

"Well, you can still see me...just not come home with me, and no sex."

"Okay." Kerry sighed heavily. "But...can we fuck one more time?" she asked, her voice sounding hopeful.

"Eh...." Anson thought about it, still stroking Kerry's ears. "Yeah, all right. One last time." The mere thought of fitting his thick equine cock into the pup's surprisingly accommodating muff again was enough to arouse him again.

Almost immediately Kerry's hand went to the growing bulge in his shorts, giving it a few rubs and squeezes before she resumed trying to unbutton his shorts. "Hang on, let me help you," Anson said, reaching down and easily manipulating the buttons through their holes, before pushing his loosened shorts down. His cock bent for a few seconds, then sprang up as it was released from its fabric confines. "Ohhh, yeah," he moaned as the pup's fingers encircled his thick girth and began to stroke him inexpertly. He closed his eyes and relaxed as Kerry worked his member, only opening them again when he felt the unmistakable wetness of her muzzle as she engulfed the head. "You really love cock, don't you?" he murmured with a smile, rubbing over her large head and scritching her ears.

"Uh-huh!" Kerry replied, briefly lifting her head to do so before she slipped her mouth over the equine meat, enjoying the unique flavour as it slid back and forth over her tongue. Precum was starting to leak out of the small hole in the spongy head, and she savoured it as it collected in her mouth before being swallowed. She lifted her head and started working on the rest of Anson's shaft too, sliding her tongue up, down and around, getting it wet all over.

"Easy, pup," Anson warned, feeling his climax beginning to rise. "Don't want to pop just yet. Why don't you get undressed, hmm?"

Kerry nodded, giving his cock a few more licks before she slipped off the bed and began taking off her clothes. She removed her pale blue T-shirt first, then her navy blue pleated skirt, and lastly her white panties, which she took her time in removing when she noticed Anson watching her intently, stroking his cock. Once she was nude she climbed back onto the bed again.

"Mmm, I want to try a new position. Lie down on your side, pup, facing away from me," Anson asked, moving back against the wall to give Kerry room. When she'd done that he rolled over and snugged up against her, pushing his cock between her chubby legs. He lifted her left leg up and moved it forward slightly, helping to expose her sex. He then positioned the fat head of his shaft at her entrance, sliding it around a bit to get it coated in precum, then slowly began pushing into her.

A low moan came from Kerry's throat as her special place was invaded once again by her equine lover's cock. She could feel that somewhat painful stretching sensation as the head of Anson's erection popped into her tunnel and eased deeper into her, inch by slow inch until she felt it bump into her womb's entrance. It felt a bit better than her deflowering, but she still kept back tears as she tried to get used to this enormous thing stretching her out.

Anson paused once he'd slipped as much of his cock into her as would fit comfortably. Her soft underaged tunnel felt just as exquisite as it had the first time he'd fucked her. He put his arm over the pup, cuddling her lovingly, enjoying the tensing of her vaginal muscles around his shaft. "How's that feel, Kerry?" he murmured, stroking her chest.

"It's okay...hurts a bit," she replied, snuggling back against Anson, feeling reassured by his cuddle.

"I'll go slow, okay? I want to make love to you, not just fuck you." The horse slowly pulled his hips back, dragging his cock out of her sex a little bit, then gently pushed back in. After a few seconds he repeated the motion, then again, gradually shortening the time between thrusts until he was thrusting constantly at a slow pace. He listened to the sounds Kerry was making, pleased to hear nothing but soft moans tinged with pleasure. He lengthened his thrusts, until just the head was left inside her when he pulled out. Wiggling a finger into her tightly stretched opening he sought out her clit, and began rubbing at it as he thrust, eliciting happy 'yip's from the pup.

Anson's climax was starting to rise up again, and he slowed down, wanting to enjoy this as long as possible, and wanting to make Kerry come first so she didn't leave unsatisfied. "You enjoying this, pup?"

"Mmhmm," responded Kerry with a happy sigh. "Feels so good. I never want this to end."

"Neither do I, but it'll have to soon, unfortunately."

Several minutes went by. Kerry's pussy had loosened up and was now accommodating Anson's considerable size much more easily, and she was moving with him, panting as she was driven closer to climax. Anson had built himself up to orgasm several times, but each time restrained himself by pausing and moving slower to prolong the lovemaking.

* * * * *

"Finally," muttered Brophy, Anson's father as he reached his house. His legs were aching with the unaccustomed effort of long-distance walking. Since his car was in a garage for repairs, and the local bus service wasn't running due to a strike, he'd had to make do with walking to and from work. It was much-needed exercise, certainly, but he didn't like it much.

He got to the front door, fumbled for the keys lost somewhere in his voluminous pockets, and eventually unlocked the door. He stumbled inside, leaving the door open for the time being until he went back to close it. Right now, he needed to relieve himself fairly urgently. As he was about to enter the toilet he heard noises coming from his son's room. Weighing up emptying his bladder and satisfying his curiosity, he eventually decided to see what was going on in there. The door was open, so he stopped just beside it and peered around the door frame.

* * * * *

Anson was just a second away from finally filling his preteen lover with his creamy seed when he heard a loud gasp from the doorway. His eyelids snapped open, and he focused on the head peering into the room. "Dad! Oh...oh, fuck," he groaned as he reached his peak. Though he'd stopped thrusting at the moment of discovery, his mounting pleasure had carried him on until his cock began to spasm of its own volition. His grip on the pup in his arms tightened as he ejaculated deep inside her young body, pumping his equine semen into her tautly-stretched tunnel, knowing that his father could see every throb of his shaft. Figuring that he was in about as much trouble as he could possibly get with his father, he slowly pulled out of Kerry's sex, making a sticky popping sound as his flared cockhead came free of its confines, and firmly stroked his cock, expending the rest of his cream over her lower body, watching his dad to see what his reaction would be.

His father just stared, his gaze fixed upon his son's shaft as it spurted thick, white cum over the pup's lower body and the bed. As much as his bladder was still telling him that it needed emptying, his cock was starting to override its protests, causing the crotch of his trousers to bulge out as it grew. "Uh...I'll...come back later," he muttered, quickly turning and heading down the hallway to the toilet, closing the door behind him with a slam.

"We're in trouble, aren't we?" Kerry asked, twisting herself around so she could look Anson in the face.

"Like you wouldn't believe," Anson replied, squeezing his cock to extract the last of his seed, which dripped onto Kerry's lower belly fur. He sighed heavily and cuddled the pup tightly for a few seconds before he slowly sat upright. "Let's get you cleaned up, then I'll take you home."

* * * * *

Brophy leaned against the back of the toilet door, trying to concentrate on his bladder, rather than his half-erect penis. After a minute or so he was flaccid enough to relieve himself, and he did so, sighing with relief as his urine splashed into the toilet. He flushed when he was finished, then went into the neighbouring bathroom to wash his hands.

He stopped when he saw the pup resting on the edge of the bath, her slightly chubby legs spread wide to allow his son to wipe his cum out of her well-stretched tunnel, which was still gaping a little. He tried to ignore them, going quickly to the vanity to wash his hands. Without looking at them he dried his hands, then left, going to close the front door before escaping to the seclusion of his bedroom.

Parking himself on the edge of his bed, he rested his head in his hands and let his mind go back over what he had seen. As much as he wanted to deny it, he had definitely felt aroused at seeing his son's cock buried in the small pup he'd been cuddling. For just a moment he had seen himself in Anson's place, with his shaft partially stuffing his son's tailhole, a brief glimpse of his past indiscretions. He groaned when he realised that his cock was waking up again at even just these brief thoughts. "Damnit," he muttered sourly as he watched the bulge in his crotch thicken and lengthen. "I suppose I'd better take care of this."

He unbuckled his belt, then slipped his trousers down, kicking them off into a corner. Settling back comfortably against his pillows, he watched his cock gradually thicken and lengthen, until it was at full size, a good sixteen inches at least. He reached into his bedside table and withdrew a small bottle of lube, and proceeded to slather it over his shaft. Then he grasped it with his left hand and began to stroke, concentrating most of the action around the slightly flared head.

As he worked his cock he thought about what he had seen. Guilty pleasure sent a shiver through him as he imagined that it was him that cuddling up to the pup, pumping his shaft deep into her small, chubby body. Then he imagined Anson feeding the pup his cock, stuffing her muzzle full of horse meat as her other end was taken care of. His breath quickened, and a loud groan escaped his throat as his climax rose. His hand moved faster on his shaft, the other hand moving lower to cup his heavy balls, massaging and squeezing them, until his cock began to throb strongly as his seed began to flow. Quickly he leaned forward and slipped the engorged head of his cock into his mouth, moments before the first jet of semen splattered over his tongue.

It had been a while since he had last masturbated, so he was quite surprised at the volume of cum that spurted out. It was fairly viscous, almost like glue, with a strong, bitter taste. He let his mouth fill up before he swallowed, grimacing at the flavour.

Thirty seconds later his climax was done, the weakening throbs of his cock forcing the last of his seed into his muzzle. A final gulp emptied his mouth, and he was left with the somewhat unpleasant aftertaste. He slid his tongue around, making sure that he'd got as much as he could, and swallowed again, before he carefully got up and went over to the door. He opened it, poking his head out into the hallway, hoping that it was clear so that he could nip into the bathroom and clean up properly.

"Uh...." Anson stared back at him, his hand raised as if to knock on the door. "I was just, uh, going to take Kerry home." His son's gaze dropped down, and regarded the semi-hard shaft dangling from his groin. "Uh, yeah. Um, back soon." He quickly turned and headed down the hallway to the front door.

"Ah, jeez," Brophy muttered, resting his forehead against the door frame. "What a day this is turning out to be."

* * * * *

Anson returned just as the street-lights were coming to life, pushing back the encroaching darkness. He stood on the doorstep for a minute or so, before opening the door and entering. Inside, the house was dark, but for the light spilling out of the kitchen.

His father was sitting at the table, nursing what seemed to be a glass of some kind of liquor. "Have a seat, son," he murmured, slowly looking up. "I think we need to talk."

"Yes, sir," Anson replied, strolling across the kitchen and easing himself into the chair on the opposite side of the table.

A long, uncomfortable silence sat over them before Brophy spoke again. "How long," he began, pausing for a few seconds before continuing, "have you been...seeing that pup?"

"Um...not long. About three weeks," Anson replied, staring down at the uneven grain of the wooden table. "I...wanted to break it up today, and...she convinced me to, um, have sex with her one last time."

"I see." Brophy's voice was flat, unemotional. "And have you fucked her often?"

Anson shuffled in his seat. "Twice. And we sixty-nined as well."

Another long silence followed Anson's admission. "And did you enjoy it? Did she enjoy it?"

The question caught the younger horse off-guard. "Yeah! I mean, well...not the first time, but the other times she loved what we were doing. I, um, made sure I made her feel good too."

"That's something," Brophy replied. He sipped from his glass, then placed it down on the table with a quiet clink. "The first time...you raped her, didn't you?" Again, that same monotone.

Anson folded his arms on the table and laid his head upon them. He let out a long sigh before replying, "Yeah, I did. But then I felt guilty, so I tried to make it better for her!"

Brophy nodded. "Anson, look at me." He stared at his son's face resolutely until Anson raised his head, meeting his gaze. "What you did was wrong, very wrong, and I should report you for it. She should report you. But...I understand why you did it...I think." He paused for a few seconds, looking down at his drink. "Why?"

"Why did I rape her?" Anson tried to think back to that time in the restroom, trying to remember what it was that he'd thought before grabbing Kerry. "To be honest...I'm not sure. I guess...school was over, we were the only ones in that area, and...I had this opportunity to get some free pussy." He tried to keep looking at his father, but eventually he had to look down at the table again, away from that penetrating stare.

"I see," Brophy said again. "Like father, like son," he then murmured, so quietly Anson almost missed hearing it.

Anson lifted his head up suddenly. "Like father, like... You mean you've done it too? You screwed a kid?"

Brophy nodded slowly and sighed heavily. He stood up, and drained the rest of the glass' contents. "Come with me. I'm gonna show you something, while I still have the guts to do it." He then stalked out of the kitchen, leaving Anson to scramble out of his chair to follow.

"What's in the garage?" Anson asked, when he realised that's where his father was headed.

"You'll see," Brophy responded, opening the back door, which led into the garage, and flicking the light on. He squinted until his eyes adjusted to the light, then moved purposefully toward an old workbench, which had several tools of varying stages of rust lying upon it, and lots of cardboard boxes stacked haphazardly beneath it. He crouched down in front of them and began to pull them out, briefly opening up each one before closing it and setting it aside. "Aha, here it is," he said when he got about halfway through the pile. He stood up slowly, the small taped-up box in his hands, and turned to place it upon the bonnet of the somewhat beat-up white Toyota Corolla that occupied most of the garage's space. "Come closer," he said to Anson, gesturing appropriately. "You might find these...a bit shocking."

Anson hesitated for only a moment before doing so, his intense curiosity mingled with a strange sense of foreboding.

Brophy grabbed a box cutter from the workbench, and proceeded to slit the tape open, before pulling the flaps open to reveal the box's contents. He stood back and glanced at his son. "Well...look inside, and see the accumulation of my personal shame."

After hesitating for a few seconds Anson looked into the box, half afraid of what he'd find inside it. There were a lot of old Polaroid photos, and a few video tapes. He picked up a few of the photos and looked through them. Each of them showed a much younger version of himself, still in diapers, playing with a massive (when compared to his baby self) equine cock. As shocked as he was as he sifted through the photos, he was also very turned on. "Is this...me? And you?"

His father nodded slowly. "There are more in there: pictures of you naked, sucking my cock, getting a faceful of cum, some dildo play, and even, uh, you getting fucked by my best friend at the time. When you were a bit older, I claimed you as well."

"And...what's on the videos?" Anson asked, his breath catching in his throat as he found one of the latter pictures. It showed him lying on a bed, his diaper beneath his butt, with a heavily veined canine cock about halfway into his tailhole. His little fists were clenched, and his mouth was open in a silent cry.

"Mostly some other porn I got from my friend; dunno where he got them from. I think one of them is of you," Brophy murmured, moving around to see the picture Anson was examining. "When you were slightly older than that. You were sucking me off while my friend banged your ass." He grinned slightly. "When we'd finished, you were almost invisible under all the cum."

For a few moments Anson tried to imagine the picture he was holding altered to show his dad's cock stuffing his muzzle, and the canine's cock spurting a big load of semen over his body. He was jerked back to reality when he suddenly felt a hand cupping his crotch. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing, son," Brophy replied, pulling his large, calloused hand away. "Just seeing if this stuff was having the same effect on you as it did on me." He stepped back, allowing Anson to see the thick bulge in his pants.

Anson looked away after a few seconds, a mix of emotions going through his mind and body. He put the picture back into the box, and stared vacantly at it, without really seeing it. At the forefront of his emotions was some anger: at his father for using him, and letting him be used, as a sex toy; at his father's friend, for having joined in the depravity; his mother, for not being around to protect him; and, strangely, at himself. He couldn't have done anything to prevent his body from being ravished, but he was still upset about it.

His thoughts turned to the present day. Now he was in the position of the user, having used Kerry for his own pleasure that day in the restroom, and he was angry at himself for having done it. He'd tried to make up for it, by ensuring that she had received some pleasure too, especially in the following encounters, but the guilt he felt overall was tearing him up. His stomach clenched tightly in a spasm of anxiety as he considered the follow-on effects of his indiscretions becoming public. He wouldn't tell anyone, and he was sure his father wouldn't either, but Kerry? So far she'd kept their secret, but what if it was discovered through some other means? A small funny-smelling stain in her knickers could be all it took. He knew the canine olfactory sense was nearly second-to-none, and he worried that one of her parents would sniff out the scent of his semen, either on her clothes or on her body. Hell, he'd shot a load over her belly this afternoon! As careful as he was, he wasn't sure if he'd masked the scent adequately with the soap he'd used.

He suddenly felt that he needed someone to lean on, to have their arms around him, holding him close. As his mother was long gone, that left only his father. "Dad?" he murmured, lifting his head and turning to face him. His vision had blurred slightly, and he realised that tears were leaking out.

"Yes, son?" Brophy replied, his voice quiet and gentle.

"Hold me."

Wordlessly, the elder equine stepped forward and gently eased his arms around his son. Anson leaned into the embrace, resting his head upon Brophy's right shoulder, and began to sob quietly.

Brophy was quite taken aback, and felt very awkward as his son seemed to cuddle up to him, crying softly. It had been many years since Anson had come to him for comforting, but somehow this particular time seemed the most important. He didn't say anything, but just held his son, stroking a hand gently down his back, letting him have his time of catharsis.

After a few minutes the sobs ceased, and Anson slowly pulled away from his father. He sniffed and wiped at his eyes. "Thanks, Dad," he said in a husky voice. He cleared his throat, then added, "I think I needed that. I just felt...really overwhelmed by...by everything, I guess. Being told I was raped when I still in diapers, and being shown, even, and what I've done with Kerry...." He paused and sniffed again, thinking on his next words. "I feel...angry, upset, sad...lots of things. I'm not entirely sure who I am any more. I've always thought that I was a good person, but now.... I don't know."

His father was silent for a minute or so before he answered. "Would it help you at all to know that I went through almost the same emotions when you were young?" He leaned against the car and continued. "After you'd been used, and your crying had settled down, I felt so incredibly guilty, and angry at myself. All I could do was to clean you up as best I could, and cuddle you and sing softly to you until you fell asleep. I'd put you in your crib, then I'd sit on my bed and tear myself up about it." He smiled a little at Anson, reaching out to pat him on the shoulder. "Despite your early days, you turned out to be a fine son."

"What made you stop?" Anson asked. "When did I finally stop being your fuck toy?"

Brophy winced at his son's blunt words. "When you were nearly two, my friend moved away, for a better-paying job. I suspect a rumour or two might have had something to do with that as well. He was really the bad influence, I guess, so when he'd gone I lost most of the urges I'd had when he was visiting." He grinned wryly. "It might seem a little clichéd, but I vowed then that I would bring you up properly from then on. A desire to not want to be like my own father probably played a part as well."

Anson waited for a short while before breaking the silence. "What do you mean?"

"When I was young, about to start school, my father began to molest me," Brophy murmured. His eyes seemed to stare into the distance as he spoke. "A lingering grope when we played, or spending a bit too much time with cleaning 'down there' when we bathed. Eventually he got me stroking him off, and drinking his cum when he'd finished. Occasionally he fucked my ass, too. It might have gone on for ages, except one day he forgot to close the curtain, and a neighbour saw us."

"Is that why you never talk about Grandpa?"

Brophy nodded slowly. "That's pretty much it, yeah. He was hauled away, and I didn't seem much of him after that. Years down the track, when I ended up with you, I wondered if it'd feel as good for me as it did for him, and...you know the rest, now. As for how my friend got involved...I caught him looking at pictures when I went to visit one day." He shifted position, making himself more comfortable. "The door was open, and there was no response to my knocking, so I went in. I found him in his bedroom, stroking himself while looking through stacks of pictures." He grinned widely. "When he'd finished, he was getting up to put the pictures away when he saw me standing in the doorway. I think I gave him the fright of his life. We got talking and sharing, and sometime after that I invited him round, and I ended up with that box there," Brophy finished, waving a hand at the box sitting innocuously on the car.

"Wow," was all Anson could muster by way of an answer. This was a lot to absorb in just a few minutes. "I don't know what to say," he said, running a hand back through his hair. "I sort of feel as if I've just been run over by a truck, emotionally and mentally. It's gonna take a while for all this to sink in."

"Yeah, it might," his father replied, nodding slowly. He sighed heavily and put an arm around Anson again. His son didn't resist as he usually would, which he found a little surprising. Still, he wasn't going to say anything about it.

"Did you feel any guilt or regret about...giving up the sex?" Anson murmured.

Brophy was silent for a few seconds while he thought about that. "Yeah, I did. The temptation to fuck you again was strong for quite a while, but it eventually decreased to the point where I barely thought about it."

Anson nodded and sighed. "I still want to be with Kerry, even though she's so young. She's sweet, and fun to play with, and she did seem to enjoy what we did together, but I as much as I'd love to cuddle up and be intimate, I don't want to risk getting caught."

Brophy nodded again, not saying anything for a long while. "Yes, that would be a problem." Another long pause followed, before he spoke again. "She's a pretty little thing, isn't she?"

"Yeah, she is. And pretty smart, too." Anson sighed. "If only she was my age. Then it wouldn't really matter if I brought her home and screwed her silly."

"Mmm, about that," murmured Brophy. "Earlier, when I was coming out of my room..." He trailed off uncertainly, then carried on. "I was jerking off, fantasising about you and me taking her at both ends, me in her pussy, you in her muzzle."

The younger horse stared at his father wordlessly. "Are you kidding me?"

"Uh, no, I'm not," Brophy replied, looking down at the stained concrete floor. "Seeing you with your dick in her, then shooting your cum over her was just...too much. I just had to relieve myself." Eventually he slowly raised his head, noticing as his gaze travelled up his son's body that there was a definite bulge in his trousers.

"Ugh, Dad! Now you've got me wanting her again," Anson protested, his voice holding a sense of frustration.

"Sorry. You know, if you wanted to bring her round again, I wouldn't object to it. I think I'd like to get to know her as well. You think she'd want to have some fun with another guy?"

Anson's cock twitched in his pants at his father's words. "Probably," he said, running a hand through his hair. "But you're not here during the afternoons, though."

"I could take an afternoon off; I have a little time off due anyway." Brophy shrugged. "If you see her again, ask her when she might next be free."

"Sure," Anson replied shortly, feeling his emotions get tangled up inside him again. "I think I'll head to bed," he said with a shake of his head. "I need some time to think."

Brophy nodded in acknowledgement. "All right, son. Sleep well, when you do." He watched Anson leave the garage, his footsteps sounding very loud in the night's quietness. As the door closed he turned to the box and closed the flaps. For a moment he considered sealing the box up again, but eventually decided not to when he couldn't locate a roll of tape with a quick glance over the workbench and shelves. He put the box back where he'd found it, and carefully stacked the other boxes atop it. Leaning against the car's bonnet for support, he gazed steadily at the box unblinkingly for a few seconds, before lifting his head and staring out through the grimy cobweb-encrusted window above the workbench. "Damn you, Dad," he muttered. "Look what I've become, with your help."

* * * * *

Anson slowly undressed in the semi-darkness of his room, which was marginally lit by a street-light, and sat down on his bed. A moment later he stood up again and rubbed over his left buttock; his hand came away covered in something cold and sticky. He groaned as he realised that he'd forgotten to clean up after that afternoon's activity. He could now also still smell the bleach-like scent of the rather large load of semen he'd shot. "Ahh, fuck it," he swore, pulling off the soiled duvet and dumping it on the floor. "Warm enough to sleep without it anyway."

The young horse slipped into bed and lay staring up at the ceiling while his mind turned over the day's events. The shock of being discovered by his father was bad enough, but the revelation that he'd been abused in his infancy topped that quite significantly, followed, to a smaller extent, by his dad's abuse by his father. He'd barely seen his grandfather; he'd died just before Anson was born, and the only visual record of his existence had been grainy monochrome photographs in a worn photo album.

If he hadn't played around with Dad, if Dad hadn't walked in on his friend...would I still have been abused? Anson wondered as he rolled over and stared out his window at the street-light shining orange-yellow in the inky blackness of night. Maybe my involvement with Kerry was the result of a subconscious recollection of my early years. So many 'what ifs'.

Somewhere in the midst of his mental wanderings Anson fell asleep, curled up and shivering slightly.