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_An anonymous commission.

It's quite a long story, but one I think is well worth reading, being chock-full of sexy humans, horses and centaurs and some feels right when you least expect them!_

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“How could anyone live inside that? It looks so menacing…" one of Sylvia's guards remarked upon seeing the tall stone wall looming ahead of them.

“It's meant to look menacing to anyone standing outside. To the people behind it it's different. It makes them feel safe." The centauress explained with a little smile, and not for the first time.

The stallion next to her merely grunted, which could have meant he was acknowledging her point, or standing by his own. As critical as he was of the humans' architecture, Sylvia couldn't help but notice he didn't say anything about the other examples of the two-leggers' artifice. Both members of her honor guard wore demi-cuirasses, steel armor fashioned specially for centaurs to protect both the human and equine chest, as well as steel bracers on their forelegs. Their spearheads were also steel, and all of it kept meticulously polished, telling Sylvia that there were some menacing human creations the centaurs were quite grateful for.

The weapons and armor were just part of the pact the centaur queen had made decades ago, and made sure to maintain, hence this visit to the humans' city. It was a secretive thing, even though both peoples had profited from the alliance. And as long as all was well and peace reigned, Sylvia didn't feel any guilt about keeping the more personal details to herself.

She dismissed the two stallions, and after bowing to her, the pair turned around and galloped back to the settlement. They knew full well that they were merely an honor guard – the centaurs' lands were a large, lush valley, surrounded on all sides by craggy mountains, except for the east. There they bordered the human kingdom, which encompassed the few places through which an army could reach the valley. Any army wishing to invade either kingdom would be faced with a combined force of humans and centaurs, a prospect that has so far served as sufficient deterrent to would-be aggressors.

Sylvia made her way towards a large oak tree, standing like a gnarled old sentinel in the field just outside the city. Legend was that one of the previous kings had planted it long ago, to mark the site where he would build his new capitol. She stood behind the massive oak, its wide trunk giving her a bit of privacy. She thought it prudent, although it was unlikely anyone would spot her. Sentinels did walk the walls, but the peace between humans and centaurs had lasted for so long, they didn't bother looking for danger on this side. But just in case there was an alert, eagle-eyed young soldier gazing from those parapets, it wouldn't do to let him see something which he shouldn't.

A smile curved the centauress' mouth as a little shiver ran down her spine, her current condition making the thought of being watched deliciously appealing. Her early visits to the human city had to occur while she was in season, and she supposed it became a bit of a habit. But she didn't think much of it. A centaur female had a healthy sex-drive year long, but were fertile only in one month out of every three. During that time they tended to get a bit frisky and flirty as their desires became more than healthy.

As far as Sylvia was concerned, being a little more affectionate and outgoing was entirely appropriate for diplomatic missions among friends and allies. Besides, she always felt humans were far too tightly-wound, especially the court, and could do with a little livening up. And she had some special plans for this visit. But first things first…

The mare slid a hand though her long, golden hair. The thick, lustrous mane matched the fur covering her equine half perfectly and fell in thick, glossy strands half-way down her back. And hidden in that lush cascade of gold curls lay a short, slim braid, with a silver clasp on its end. As Sylvia's slim fingers brushed against it, she undid the little latch at the end and pulled something out. She took a moment to regard the ring laying on her palm. It was made of two bands – one of white gold, the other yellow – twisted together and then molded and burnished so that it looked like a single piece of metal with a twisting gold-and-silver pattern along its surface.

Slipping the ring on one dainty finger she braced her hands against the trunk of the oak. A familiar dizziness washed over her as her vision blurred while the magic of the ring took effect. In a few seconds it was over, and as the world stopped spinning she noted that, like every time before the oak seemed a little bit taller.

The truth, of course, was that Sylvia was shorter. Although her now human legs were quite long, they were still shorter than the almost fourteen hands her equine body would add to her height. Not that anyone seeing them, Sylvia included, would complain. The milky-white limbs were exquisitely shaped, her well-defined calves giving way to smooth yet strong thighs and ending in an expansive but perfectly rounded rear that bounced lightly with every step. Sylvia smiled in satisfaction as she examined it. She was immensely proud of her rear, which was impressive even in her equine form, and was always glad to see that even the powerful magic of a Ring of Change couldn't truly alter its magnificent shape, instead merely adjusting it to fit a human body.

After taking a moment to admire her new but familiar form, the centauress gave a little sigh, knowing that she'll have to cover this up before entering the city. Right now her only garment was a long length of sheer white linen embroidered in gold thread to match her coat and mane. The gossamer fabric was wrapped around her chest only tightly enough to stop her bountiful breasts from bouncing as she trotted, leaving two fronds to stream flutter behind her. More than enough covering for a centaur, but scandalously inadequate in human society.

She unwrapped the sheer fabric from around her chest, releasing her breasts, even if it was for but a few moments. The two heavy globes dropped slightly, but didn't sag despite their obvious weight. Even though she'd given birth three times her majestic teats remained perfectly pear-shaped, two milky-white teardrops riding high on her chest. Such a crime to cover these up she thought as she hefted her mounds, running her fingers across the stiffening little nubs.

But she knew she had to, for the sake of delicate human sensibilities. She ran her finger along the groves of the oak's ridged bark, whispering words of power as she traced out a faintly glowing line. When she withdrew the finger, the oak's trunk parted along that line as if it was supple muscle, rather than rigid wood. She reached inside and pulled out a silk gown of a deep emerald green and a pair of tall cream-colored boots, both a gift from the reigning king's father. Being stored inside her keeper-tree the garments had aged as little as she did in all this time, and the centauress had to admit they looked good on her.

The boots, once laced up, hugged her shapely thighs, and the silky dress showed off as much of her body as possible, while still remaining decent. The tailor who'd been tasked with making it all those years ago had abandoned all thoughts of a bodice gown upon seeing her. While Sylvia's chest and hips were visions of motherly perfection, her waist and belly remained girlish, giving her a natural hourglass figure. Most of the ladies at court needed gowns that would lace up tight around their middle, thrusting their chest up to form an enticing décolletage, Sylvia clearly needed no such help. Instead, he made her a dress where the neckline plunged in a sharp 'V', displaying salacious amount of cleavage as her ripe breasts strained against the silky fabric.

As she made her way down the road to the great walled city, the shape-shifted centauress found her mind dwelling on those distant memories…

*******

Sylvia stood alone in the stable, the equine scents making it difficult for her to still the butterflies fluttering in her stomach. It was time to deliver her part of the bargain, and although she certainly wasn't hesitant to do so (in fact, the smell of stallions in the air was making her quite eager), it was still a big step. She was certainly no virgin, and had even been with feral horses before, but today she would be giving a stallion more than just the pleasure of mounting her.

Her people would often catch small herds of wild horses and tame them before selling them to humans. And although a centaur couldn't break a horse to a saddle for obvious reasons, the humans always marveled at how docile and well-behaved horses tamed by the centaurs were. The secret, of course was to have centaur mares seduce the strongest, wildest stallions in the heard. Once they became more affectionate, the other horses followed their example.

In normal circumstances a common horse couldn't get a centauress pregnant, even if he covered while she was in heat. But she and Kyrios, the court wizard, had been hard at work the past week, brewing the necessary potions and casting the spells that would enable her to conceive with a feral equine.

She was startled to hear the stable doors open and turned to see prince Rowland standing in the doorway, looking equally surprised to see her.

“Oh, my apologies, Grand Dame…"

“Sylvia, please. No need for formalities if it's just us speaking." She interrupted him. In truth she didn't much like the sound of “Grand Dame", but it was a literal translation of her actual title – Khâna. But since the former would have identified her as the centauress queen in spite of her human form, she could hardly use it and maintain her disguise.

“Sylvia." The prince replied, giving her a slight nod and a charming smile, one that Sylvia returned. The king's oldest son was growing into quite an attractive young man, and if half the rumors circulating among the women of the castle were true, he was getting a lot of use out of that charming smile of his.

“I happen to know the stables are sealed for the afternoon, on the King's order." She said, looking him in the eyes. To his credit, the lad was doing an admirable job of keeping his own gaze from drifting downward.

“Yet here we both are…" Rowland replied slyly, suggesting there were two guilty parties present.

“Ahh, but I am here with the King's permission…" Sylvia said, admiring the boy's brazenness.

“And I convinced the guards that my father surely wouldn't mind if I just fetched my horse and saddle for a quick ride in the country." He countered, and the golden-haired woman's smile widened a little. The guards were not exactly chosen for their capacity to think, and while they were trying to think of a way of not upsetting neither the current nor future king, the prince had managed to talk his way past them.

“Well, as long as you're here you might as well help me…"

“Certainly my lady. Which horse would you like me to saddle?" he asked. Normally he would balk at the thought of performing such a menial task, but if it meant spending a few more moments in private with the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, he'd play the role of stable-boy and do it gladly.

“Oh, I'm not going for a ride. You see Rowland, now that you are a practically a man grown…" she began, noting with some satisfaction the way the prince seemed to bristle at the word 'practically' “…your father believes it's time you had a new horse, one befitting the future king."

“Zephyr is a fine animal of impeccable lineage." The young man replied, and Sylvia found the loyalty he showed to his current steed quite touching.

“For a hunt or a brisk ride you couldn't ask for a better one. But your duties might soon force you to ride into danger, or even battle. You will need a mount that can carry you safely out." she said, noticing that although the prince's face got more serious at her pronouncement, it nevertheless showed no trace of fear. “The one I will give you will do just that."

“Of course, my lady. If you chose to honor me with a gift, I will gladly accept it." The prince quickly said, worried that he might have committed a faux pas by declining a gift from Sylvia before she'd even had a chance to offer it.

“As well you should. From what I hear, you are quite a horseman." and quite a stud in your own right she thought “Tell me, have you ever heard of highborn steeds?"

“Well, only stories…" the prince responded, a bit surprised by the sudden shift of topic to the almost mythical horses “They are supposedly intelligent enough to understand human speech, possessed of such endurance that they can keep galloping when a normal horse would have collapsed from exhaustion, very long-lived and of robust health. But they are supposedly so rare that only royalty or ancient heroes ever rode them."

“And do you know why they are so rare?"

“Well, the stories claim they are not a true breed of horse. That they are only born when a stallion mates with… a centauress." He answered. Although he was doing his best to look confident, she could tell he was starting to blush a little at the mention of the last part.

“Partly true. It takes a lot of magic to allow a centauress to conceive a feral stallion's foal. It is because of that magic that their children have lifespans that can measure several times that of a human, and are untouched by illness."

Prince Rowland listened to her politely, although he still wasn't sure why she was talking to him about these legendary steeds. Was she simply testing his knowledge, or was it possible that she actually has such a noble creature, and intends to make him a gift of it? Like everyone else at court he knew precious little of the woman, apart from the fact that she was to be treated with the same reverence as a visiting viceroy, by his father's own decree. Could it be that this mysterious beauty owned such a steed, or had a centauress so indebted to her that she would consent to mating with a stallion?

“Oh, but listen to me chatter on after you've so kindly agreed to help me! Now, would you mind bringing Cassius out for me?" Sylvia asked sweetly.

“My lady?" the prince asked, looking at her in confusion. Cassius was a Clydesdale, a magnificent stallion to be sure, but he was a draft horse. The closest a lady such as Sylvia would usually get to such an animal would be if it was pulling her carriage. But the woman merely nodded at the young man's confusion, pointing to the stallion's stall. Cassius' ears must have been burning because Rowland spotted his big black head with the white star on his forehead as the stallion sniffed in their direction. Still he did as he promised, picking up a bridle and heading toward the horse.

Cassius was well behaved as the prince fastened the halter around his head, or so the young man thought. Just as he was about to lead him out he spotted the stallion's massive shaft, fully dropped and bobbing between his legs as the Clydesdale flexed it. His cheeks colored as he gave the stallion an exasperated look, the bulky equine showing little concern at having upset the heir to the throne. Since none of the mares were in heat, Rowland was certain the stallion was doing this just to embarrass him.

“Is this any way to behave in front of a lady?" he hissed.

Turning around, he kept his eyes on the floor as he tried to think of a nonchalant way to play this. When he did manage to look up, he couldn't believe what he was seeing. Sylvia stood in the middle of the barn, with a smile on her face, one hand on her hip, and her gown hung carefully next to the horse tack. She looked supremely confident as she stood bare naked in front of him, with nothing covering her glorious body but a small patch of gold hair just above her…

The word 'above' snapped the prince out of his trance and he immediately straightened his posture and looked the lady straight in the eyes. If a serving girl had come to him like this, his fingers would be busily undoing buttons and buckles, but Sylvia was an honored guest of his father, and he didn't want to cause an incident. Sadly, royal protocol hadn't covered this sort of situation, and to make matters worse he realized he was guilty of the same sort of impropriety he'd accused Cassius of.

“Oh come now. You've seen a woman naked before, haven't you?" Sylvia asked coyly.

“None like you…" the stunned prince said, the reply tumbling from his mouth before he was even aware he'd opened it. He'd always considered her to be a beauty without equal, and seeing her like this only proved it.

“Truer words were never spoken. Now make sure you have a good grip on his lead, this next part might spook him." She said, extending the long fingers of one hand before removing a ring from one of them. The glow seemed to start with her hair, the thick gold tresses shining with a light of their own as it spread across her milky skin. In the span of one heartbeat, the glow became a flash so bright that Rowland had to close his eyes for fear of being blinded by it. And when he opened them, he didn't believe what they saw.

It was without a doubt still Sylvia standing before him. Her upper body remained unchanged, but where her slim waist used to flare into generous, feminine hips, it now widened into a sleek equine body, covered in a glossy sable coat the same golden shade as her hair. Or mane he thought. The woman seemed to enjoy his eyes on her new form. She made a show of stretching her centaur body, lifting her arms above her head, her front legs extending in front of her as her firm, round rump was thrust out behind her.

“This, in case you're wondering is my true form. I am a queen among my people, here on a diplomatic mission of a… sensitive nature." She said, and the prince immediately began to bow.

“Now, now, there's no need for that! I told you I don't want things to be formal between us, especially since I suspect we will get a lot more familiar by the time this day is out…" she finished, running her hands up her slim waist and higher still, to cup those tantalizing breasts.

“You mean you…" the prince trailed off, trying to keep his eyes on Sylvia's, which were a good deal higher now. Even though her equine body wasn't particularly large, the fact that she had a human torso where a horse would have a neck meant she was taller even than the huge stallion standing at the young man's side, his nostrils flaring as they took in her scent.

“Yes. I will bear your steed, the finest horse in the realm. With Cassius' help of course. And since you are here already, in spite of the king's orders, you may assist me. After all, I'm sure you wouldn't want this handsome beast to injure me as he covers me?" Or to miss seeing me bred by him the mare added to herself.

“Perish the thought, my lady. I remain at your disposal." The prince retorted with a smile, regaining some of his composure.

“Ooh, so gallant! Without a doubt, a prince worthy of my gifts…" she tossed back, noticing the hunger in Rowland's eyes as she mentioned more than one gift. As if to drive the point home, she spun around, dancing on her dainty hooves until her rear end was pointed at the two males. She looked over her shoulder as her long golden tail was swept to one side to reveal her equine sex to them. The plump pink petals parted as she winked, her cunny drooling a thin stream of her honey onto the stable floor.

The Clydesdale nickered, flexing his massive cock and making it slap as it smacked against his chest. Rowland felt his own shaft stir at the sight, and was certain it would have done the same if it wasn't tucked away in his trousers. Just the thought of that massive spire sliding past…

“My la- Sylvia, are you sure about Cassius? He's a magnificent animal, but maybe a stud closer to your own build…" he trailed off, not sure how to broach the subject. The sight of the mighty draft horse mounting the more delicate centauress would be something to see, but he wouldn't want Sylvia to be hurt.

“Your concern is noted, Rowland, and quite touching. But as I am of a light build, I will need a sizable sire if I am to give birth to a true courser for you. Cassius certainly fits the bill – he is the most valuable stud in your father's stable, and with his strength and my grace I am sure to have a beautiful foal."

Looking at the stallion standing next to him, the prince had to agree, although grudgingly. The way the centauress was praising another male in front of him rubbed against his masculine pride a bit. Cassius was a magnificent stallion, barrel-chested and powerfully built, the muscles rippling under his shiny black coat making him look like an onyx statue brought to life. And the particular muscle now bobbing below his belly was equally impressive.

“Besides, with a strong young man like you here to keep him in check, I am sure I will come to no harm."

“You can count on me." The prince replied, with more confidence than he felt. He knew for a fact that there was usually a team of stable hands in attendance when Cassius was brought out to breed a mare. He also wondered if the stallion felt the same twinge of jealousy at hearing the centauress praise him.

“Good, now bring him over…" she husked, throwing her long golden mane over one shoulder. God, even her back is gorgeous the prince thought as he led the stallion closer to his mare.

Sylvia flagged her tail further to the side and spread her hind legs a little, displaying herself fully to the aroused males. Looking over one shoulder she could see the huge draft horse lower his head, gasping at the sensation of his breath on her moist pink sex as he huffed, taking in the smell of a mare in heat.

“OooOOooh!" she moaned out as the stallion slid his broad tongue over hear teardrop-shaped slit. She could hear a loud slap and knew it was his cock smacking against his underside, the same mammoth organ that would soon be buried in her quivering sex. She could feel her pussy winking, pushing her little clit out to meet the stud's vigorous licks. Every wink also squirted some of her juices, but Cassius caught every drop. Since stallions weren't known for foreplay, the mare guessed he must really like her taste.

Rowland's eyes were glued to Sylvia's quim, now almost entirely hidden by the Clydesdale's huge muzzle as the horse began to push his tongue past that winking opening. Every flash of her equine petals showed the prince the rosy insides of her love tunnel, the same slick, wet passage that would soon be wrapped around the stud's ebony cock. He almost laughed as he realized just how jealous he was of a horse. A life of eating hay and pulling carriages and plows seemed like a small price to pay for what Cassius was about to enjoy.

The stallion raised his head from Sylvia's marehood, leaving the well-tongued slit to wink as its owner let out a little whine that Rowland was sure was only meant to arouse him further. Still, the stud wasn't about to let his mare wait for long. He gave her firm, golden rump a few gentle nips, telling his mare that he's in charge and was about to cover her. Sylvia could understand him perfectly, and so she braced her legs just in time. The stallion had placed his head on top of her round rear, and a moment later pushed himself forward.

“Oof! He's a big boy…" Sylvia said with a grunt as the draft horse's considerable bulk settled on her back.

The centauress was no stranger to mating with stallions who were bigger than her equine half, but the prize Clydesdale put them all to shame. Still, he was an experienced stud, easily climbing on top of her and gripping her hips, his feathered hooves tight against her sides. Too late to back out now she though with a smile. Not that she had any intention of leaving the stables without a womb full of stallion spunk, but knowing that she was at the stud's mercy gave her a little thrill.

“Aah!" the mare cried out in pleasure and pain, as the powerful horse bucked forward, flexing his cock as he did. His aim was a little off, and the heavy shaft ended up smacking against Sylvia's equine teats. Cassius gave one thrust between the pert mounds, smearing them with his precum before realizing his mistake and drawing his hips back for another go.

His next attempt was much better, hitting the centauress' winking slit dead on. But his latest mare was smaller back there than the Clydesdale was used to, and all his short bucks managed to do was to poke and prod Sylvia's frantically flashing lips. To make matters worse, the tantalizing sensation of a warm, wet mare pussy winking against his glans was only making the stud's tip flare up, making insertion even more difficult.

“Rowland, would –mnf! – would you mind…" was all Sylvia managed to get out, the sensation of the stud's massive shaft bumping against her clit making speech quite difficult.

The prince had been trained from an early age to come to a lady's aid, and although what he was about to do was most definitely not a part of the chivalric code, he nevertheless rushed to help the centauress. Sylvia had been right before when she called Rowland a horseman, and the young man had spent quite a lot of time in the stables, including witnessing several breedings. He placed his hands on either side of her sex, marveling at the heat coming off her. Wedging his thumbs between those perfect pink folds he pulled them open as wide as he could a split second before the stallion gave another buck. With a squelch and an ecstatic cry from the centauress he buried a third of his thick, black spire into that winking equine cunny.

Rowland moved out of the way, his eyes still glued to those delicate lips now wrapped lewdly around the stallion's cock. Another thrust from Cassius and another cry from Sylvia, and the ebony monster was now almost all of the way in.

“Aaah! V-very big boy…" Sylvia moaned, biting her lower lip to stifle another cry as the powerful draft horse bottomed out inside her, his last buck brushing the tip of his shaft against the entrance to her womb. She doubted that she'd taken his entire length, but was certain her lover wouldn't complain. Considering she could feel every vein and bump on his mighty rod (not to mention that medial ring!) she knew she must feel like a velvet vise as her insides squeezed around him.

Gasping for breath, the centauress reached behind her, grabbing her stud's halter. Once she had a firm grip, she pulled his head closer to hers. Cassius was no stranger to being reined in even during a mating, but this was the first time that his mare was the one to do it. The prince stood in disbelief as the huge stud waited patiently, nuzzling the centauress' neck as she did her best to get her breath back and adjust to having him inside her.

As far as he knew, nothing short of a lightning bolt could stop a stud from breeding his mare once he was firmly inside her, but rather than piston in and out of her mercilessly the stallion seemed content to let his mate set the pace. He wasn't sure if it was the centaurs' fabled ability to calm feral horses, or if Sylvia was that skilled at controlling any male. Hopefully he'd have a chance to find out for himself…

“Good boy. Now come on and give me a foal…" the mare husked, patting the side of her stallion's head.

Cassius didn't need to be told twice. He'd drawn so much of his cock out that the prince was worried he'd slip out entirely, before driving it back inside his mare in one lightning-fast stroke. Sylvia cried out and her front legs nearly buckled as the stallion's thrust rocked her whole body forward. Rowland was worried for a second, but was reassured by a coo of delight coming from the centauress as the stud's shaft once again nestled itself in her welcoming passage.

The sound wasn't quite the same as a whinny of approval that a feral mare would have given him, but the stallion seemed to understand it well enough. His nostrils flared and his barrel-like chest swelled, the powerful beast breathing deeply as he proceeded to give the centauress what she asked him for. For her part, Sylvia felt almost like a virgin filly again. It had been a long time since a male had stretched her out this much when mounting her, but whereas the first time she'd been as nervous as any other maiden, this time around she could appreciate the almost painful sensation of fullness.

Fortunately for her, that magnificent spire was leaking steadily inside her, making the penetration easier, but much messier. As she looked around, she noted several other stallions snorting in their stalls, as if demanding their own chance to breed the mare in heat. Although she was certain that even if their stall doors were to be opened, none of them would challenge Cassius. The massive stallion was the undisputed king of this stable, a fact that he proved with every powerful lunge into his current queen.

The Clydesdale was a powerhouse, bottoming out inside her with every stroke. Even though she couldn't see it, she knew she still wasn't taking his whole length. A stallion's cock was always considerably thicker at its very base, and the centauress' already stretched lips would have surely felt that. She could feel the ground shake slightly as the enormous equine shifted those massive hooves, doing his best to stuff as much as he could into this strange mare.

She knew feral horses didn't last long once inside a nice warm mare, but Sylvia's time was no longer measured in seconds or minutes. Instead it was the inches of hot, thick flesh sliding in and out of her sex, punctuated by the bump the stallion's ring made against her clit with every stroke. Her nose was filled with the stud's musk and the sweet, heady scent of their coupling, her ears with the lewd slurping his shaft made as it churned the juices it had pumped inside her.

The prince stood mute as he watched the golden beauty moan and squeal under the magnificent beast mounting her, her impaled quim winking even as that glistening black length pistoned in and out of her. He was no longer worried for Sylvia – the woman's face was a mask of ecstasy, and every sound coming from her throat a hymn of desire. With every savage buck into her shapely rear, her ripe breasts would bounce wildly on her chest, each one caped with a stiff, rosy nipple. Rowland was hardly a virgin, but as he looked at Sylvia get bred he realized that none of the women he'd been with, be they shy or eager, were as rampantly passionate as the goddess standing before him.

Sylvia was doing her best to work herself up, knowing that climaxing around the horse's shaft as it erupted inside her would increase her chances of conceiving. Not that she had any doubts about Cassius' ability to give her a foal. She'd seen the two heavy orbs dangling in that smooth black sack, and knew she'd be a mess by the time he was done with her. Still, it couldn't hurt. She was aware of the young prince's eyes on her as the rutting beast prepared to claim her. I hope your taking notes… she thought.

Her wicked train of thought was interrupted by the sensation of the stud's flare growing inside her, stretching her poor, snug passage even further. Her breath became ragged, her vision blurring as that flare mushroomed up, sealing her up and making sure there was only one direction for the stallion's seed to go. As she felt the little tip in the center jut out and brush against her cervix she let go, her whole body shuddering as she came fiercely around the length of equine flesh impaling her.

Her cunny was already milking the ebony shaft as the first hot pulse of virile stallion cum traveled down it, splashing against her battered cervix. She felt a pressure build up inside her before that final barrier gave way, accepting a deluge of equine seed into her waiting, fertile womb. Gathering both her wits and her breath, the centauress managed to utter the final words to the spell that would allow that seed to take root, before setting her mind adrift in the sea of orgasmic bliss.

All the while her stud remained motionless, apart from those muscles inside him that kept pumping more and more of his cum into the willing mare beneath him. Her lips were wrapped so snugly around his cock that not a single drop escaped, and Sylvia wondered if her belly was swelling visibly from the load the stallion was spraying into her as he huffed against her neck.

As his majestic rod softened inside her, the Clydesdale slowly slid out and off her. There was a splash of equine spunk as his flared shaft slipped out, the mare's pink lips drooling the pearly cream as they gave a few more winks. Cassius gave the well-bred rear an appraising look before Rowland took his halter and lead him back to his stall. He knew that even though the stud seemed disinterested now, it would only take a few minutes for him to consider mounting his mare for a second time, to make sure his seed took. And judging by the way Sylvia's legs were trembling from supporting the rutting equine's weight, there would be no encore performance.

“How do you feel?" he asked the centauress, noting the way she still kept her tail flagged, no doubt to keep the long, gold hair away from the mess dripping between her legs.

“My, my! Still so gallant. I feel very well, thank you for asking…" she said, putting a wicked accent on 'very' “…but I'm afraid I'm quite exhausted. Would it be terribly rude of me to ask you for another favor?" she said, her voice sweet and amazingly lady-like, considering her marehood was still drooling some of Cassius' seed.

“Of course, my lady." Rowland replied, playing along.

“Well, it seems I've been ridden hard and put away wet, as they say, and I can hardly reach back there to clean myself up. Would you mind giving me a helping hand?" she said, flashing him a coy smile as her equine pussy winked at him, letting another dollop of stallion cum ooze from those well-bred folds.

“Gladly, my lady…" the prince replied, matching the centauress' smile with one of his own.

He was well aware of the game she was playing with him, and wasn't about to back down from a challenge. He filled up a bucket from a nearby barrel of rainwater and grabbed a piece of cloth before approaching the mare's majestic golden rump. The water was cold and her thoroughly rutted cunny was practically steaming, so the centauress couldn't suppress a gasp as the cool wet rag touched her quivering sex. She swished her tail against Rowland's face, pretending to punish the lad for not warning her before pressing the cold fabric against her poor quim.

She gave out a little moan as the prince gently pushed the rag past those bruised petals, diligently scooping up the mess Cassius had made. Still, more than enough was even now busily swimming around inside her, seeking out her egg. A shaky gasp was torn from her throat as the prince kept sliding the rag down, until it brushed against her still over-sensitive clit. Rather than withdraw his hand, the devious young man hooked his finger and pulled down, pressing his digit against her little nub before drawing the rag out. That's not how you clean a mare!

She had to admire the young man's nerve. The sight of the huge draft stallion breeding her like a mare in heat would have humbled almost any man and made him feel like a little boy in comparison. But after watching her mate with the towering stud he still had the confidence to finger her! What's more, he was doing a pretty good job, especially since the centauress was sure he'd never gotten those hands on a female like her before.

Even though her insides were still tender from her recent (and quite vigorous) breeding, Sylvia's body began to respond to the young man's deft touches. She spread her hind legs a little, to give the diligent boy better access, as she felt her love-tunnel ooze out a bit of her own juices, helping to wash out the excess of Cassius' seed from her. Her hands traveled up her slim waist and stopped on her lush mounds, her fingers brushing over the stiff little nubs gracing each mouth-watering breast.

She let out a long, sensuous moan as her fingers dug into the pliant flesh, kneading the ripe globes and tweaking her sensitive nipples. She knew the effect this would have on the young prince even now diligently washing her folds. It thrilled her to no end to know how she was teasing him, and she wondered just how much the boy could take.

Rowland smiled despite the now aching tightness in his pants, his cock straining at the sight of the centauress' slit winking at him even as she moaned in delight. Part of him wanted to mount her then and there, but he knew better than to follow Cassius. When he took her for the first time, the prince wanted her to scream his name, and such a thing was worth waiting for. Still, he wasn't about to take her teasing sitting down.

He rinsed out the rag and soaked in the cool water again, before running it along the mare's teats, where some of Cassius' cum had trickled down. He was rewarded with a sharp gasp, the centauress' hind legs twitching at the cold, wet sensation against what the prince had rightly assumed was quite a sensitive area. Unlike her majestic bosom, her equine teats were barely noticeable – just little pink bumps with what turned out to be quite sensitive little nipples. Rowland could see the mare shiver as he ran the cloth over those stiffening bumps, her winking becoming more energetic as her cunny seemed to beg for some attention.

Clever boy! Sylvia thought as the cold rag slid along her equine mammaries. Teats were an oft overlooked erogenous zone on a centaur mare, and because of that tended to be quite sensitive. As she massaged her human breasts that wouldn't fit in a lumberjack's hand, the prince was easily palming her pert little mounds, all the while maintaining the pretense that he was washing off the stallion's seed that had leaked from her folds. Her cunny was now flashing furiously, equine honey drooling from it as it demanded to be serviced!

The demands hadn't gone unnoticed by the young man behind her. After one prolonged wink she felt a pair of fingers gently pinch her clit, holding the sensitive nub just tight enough that it couldn't retreat back past her lips. This was a first even for the experienced female and she found herself having to bite a finger to stop from squealing out as those fingers gently tweaked her pleasure button. A few seconds of that and the mare let out a high-pitched whine as her marehood gushed, her own juices washing out the last traces of the stud's cum that had failed to enter her womb.

After getting her breath back, Sylvia thanked the young prince for his diligence, directing him to the nearby pile of hay and bidding him have a well-deserved rest. She retrieved the ring back from its hiding place in her mane and slipped it on, once again donning her human form. The prince's eyes were glued to her naked body as she sashayed over towards him, those glorious hips pure poetry in motion as they swayed with every step. Now that he knew her secret, the nature of her scandalously seductive proportions became apparent – that was a mare's rump, cunningly altered by magic to seamlessly fit in with a human body, unless one had seen it in its original state.

The changed centauress made herself comfortable next to the prince, pushing him a little deeper into the hay as she pressed her naked body against him. She planted little kisses on his neck, traveling up along his cheek before pressing her full lips to his. While they embraced, one hand slid down and deftly unlaced the young man's britches, freeing achingly hard cock. She kept kissing Rowland as her hand slid appreciatively along the warm length, before wrapping her long, delicate fingers around it. The prince's hands set off on a journey of their own, one landing on a ripe, pillowy breast while the other wandered south, coming to rest on that luscious rump.

After all the young man had seen today he didn't last long in her tender grasp. When she felt the first tell-tale twitching of the prince's cock, she angled his shaft way from them, milking it as it sent ribbons of cum arcing through the air. The young man's considerable load landed on the floor, joining the little pools of the Clydesdale's cum that had dripped out of her earlier. A few milky-white drops had dribbled onto Sylvia's hand, and she made a show of slowly licking them off, her bedroom eyes locked on the prince as she did.

She gave him a seemingly-chaste little peck on the cheek before rising, brushing a few errant bits of hay from her body before retrieving her gown. As she smoothed the silky material over her lush form the prince marveled at how quickly she made herself a presentable lady once again. The smell of horse still clung for her, but anybody passing her by would merely think she'd been out riding. Nobody would have guessed that she had in fact been the one ridden, and had left the stables carrying a stallion's foal inside her.

As she opened the door she turned back to give the stunned youth one last look. With a sinful little smile curving her lips she gave him a wink before leaving. And even though it had been with her eye, the gesture was no less suggestive than the winks she'd been giving him earlier that day. As he laced his pants back up, Rowland mused on how every great king needed a great conquest. And for him, it would be Sylvia…

*******

As he prepared for her arrival, King Rowland marveled at how the mere suggestion of her presence made the years fall away, taking with them all the wisdom and confidence that he'd accrued. He smiled as a memory came unbidden – a young prince, barely a man grown, approaching his father and informing him of his intent to travel to the centaurs' kingdom with the goal of courting and marrying their queen.

To this day, he was sure that his father had admired his son for such nerve and passion, but that didn't change his answer. The king forbade such a liaison, claiming it would be improper at best – an insult to every human maiden, and every noble father trying to wed his daughter to the crown prince. There wasn't any help to be had from his mother, who'd balked at the idea of her darling boy (she was unaware at this point of her son's escapades with two-legged women) running off with some mare. An opinion that was almost comical since she'd taken quite a liking to Sylvia, but like most people wasn't aware who the mysterious woman really was.

Looking back on it now, Rowland believed that the real reason for his father's objection was his worry, and not an unfounded one, that the beautiful mature woman would soon have his son wrapped around her little finger. Any other man might consider that a small price to pay for the hand of a woman such as Sylvia, but a future king could not allow someone to have that much influence over him.

And any other young man might have disobeyed his father's wishes and followed his heart, but if one's father was also one's liege, disobedience became treason. So he did as his sire instructed, and gave up on any idea of making Sylvia his future queen. He never made that journey to the land of the centaurs, but was always very attentive of the Grand Dame when she came to visit. And as long as there was no talk of wedding bells, his father didn't seem to mind him spending so much time with her, or ask him how they spent it.

In less than a year since that day in the stable he was married. His bride was Evelyn, a daughter of a Duke and as beautiful a wife as a prince could wish for, and of far less scandalous proportions than a certain golden-haired lady the young man was occasionally seen with. Still, she was a kind girl, and although not nearly as beautiful as Sylvia, certainly attractive enough. Thus the young prince had no problems performing his husbandly duties.

Their marriage was untroubled for the most part, but Evelyn seemed to lack some of her husband's passion. The future queen was somewhat timid, and seemed more interested in reading love poems and tales of epic romance than living one out. But even though she rarely if ever joined in, she didn't begrudge her royal husband his carousing, nor question the company he kept. And so their marriage remained a happy one. True, it was lacking a bit in passion, but that was hardly a matter for concern.

What was a matter for concern was that their union was yet to produce a child. As the first year went by, nobody thought much of it. When the second year passed without an heir, it became somewhat worrying. But in the third year of their life together, the King took ill and after a month spent in a sickbed, passed on. Rowland was crowned king soon after, and then his lack of an heir became a problem.

Nobody doubted the new king's ability to sire a child. His youthful antics were hardly a secret, and there were rumors that several young, unwed mothers received a plump purse of silver every year from the Crown, provided they never managed to recall who fathered their children. Distraught by her inability to conceive, the queen approached her husband in private, suggesting they find a woman who'd carry his child in secret. Rowland could think of only one.

So it was that on her next visit the king asked Sylvia for a very special favor. And to his delight, the buxom beauty seemed as thrilled with the idea as he was. She'd been his paramour since the day he'd watched her conceive his steed, and now she would give him an heir. And so the plot was hatched.

Kyrios was informed of the little conspiracy, because his help would be necessary to carry the plan out. But both Rowland and Sylvia knew full well that the wizened wizard could keep a secret. The disguised centauress wouldn't be able to conceive and carry a human child without the aid of magic, otherwise her encounters with the young king would have already produced a small family. Working together with the old mage, the centauress discovered that the same spells and potions that had enabled Cassius' seed to take root in her womb would do, albeit after some alterations, since a centaur carried something of both a horse and a human within them.

It had taken a week to prepare her body, and the centauress wouldn't let the king near her during that time, so that he could 'conserve his energies'. In truth, the matronly beauty had enjoyed teasing the young man, basking in the hungry looks he'd throw her way whenever they were together. After the week was up, the king had snuck into her chambers one night and showed her just how much energy he'd saved up.

Their trysts had always been passionate, Rowland's youthful exuberance perfectly complementing Sylvia's maturity and experience, but the nights spent trying for a child were different. It was almost rutting, their burning desire for each other fanned to an inferno by a more primal need – the need to mate. In truth, Sylvia had known after that first night that her lover's seed had taken, but she convinced herself that after teasing him for a week, she owed him a few nights more.

After she was with child, she'd left for her homeland, and it would be nine months until Rowland saw her again. Her own people wouldn't question her sudden pregnancy, because they knew how she'd secured the alliance with their human neighbors. It would be entirely within her rights to give them yet another steed born from her own womb, and while some might consider it a little too generous, it wouldn't be an issue.

Kyrios had cast a spell on the young queen that would make her belly appear to grow, to create the illusion the she was carrying the king's child. As Evelyn's pregnancy became apparent the entire court celebrated the royal couple's good fortune. And nine months later a heavily pregnant Sylvia crept into the castle during the cover of night. In the morning it was announced that the queen had gone into labor, and no one questioned the king's decision to have Kyrios deliver the child, since the court mage was known to be a gifted healer.

After a while heralds were sent out to announce the birth of the king's firstborn son. Little Patrick was as beautiful and healthy a child as parents could wish for and many were quick to remark on his resemblance to his noble Sire. True, the boy didn't share his father's dark-brown hair, sporting instead a mop of short, gold curls, but the portraits and tapestries hung in the castles great hall depicted numerous ancestors with a similar coloration.

And so it was that nobody even considered the fact that the child's hair resembled that of the Grand Dame, who had apparently arrived unnoticed during the commotion. It was commented that the lady was deeply enamored with the child the moment she saw him, joining the long line of nobles who came to present him with gifts and his royal parents with their best wishes. So much so, in fact, that she'd extended her stay by several weeks.

Of course only the king, queen, Kyrios and Sylvia knew she'd seen the boy before, when she held him against her bosom after giving him a gift much greater than the trinkets she'd presented him with before the royal court – the gift of life. She'd stayed a little longer so that she could nurse her little baby, albeit in secret, as well as spend some time with her elder son, the stallion the king had named Adonis.

As the years passed, life was good. Patrick grew up into a bright, handsome boy, always eager to play and explore, often in the company of Adonis. His parentage gave the horse an intellect the king suspected was sharper than most humans, and watching them together he couldn't help but wonder if the colt knew the young boy was actually his half-brother.

Certainly, all agreed he was a remarkable animal. When Patrick's friends were first learning to ride they needed to be helped up into the saddles of their ponies. Patrick would walk up to Adonis, and the warhorse would fold his legs and lay down so that the young prince could mount him. It seemed dangerous to let a mere boy ride such a tall steed, but Rowland wasn't worried, knowing the stallion wouldn't let the child fall.

And Sylvia made sure to visit both of her sons at least once a year. She'd spend her days playing with Patrick, or riding on Adonis, and her night's with him. Evelyn never begrudged him those nights he spent Sylvia's bed. She loved Patrick as if he was her own flesh and blood and Rowland suspected she was grateful to the woman who'd given her her own child, enough that she didn't mind her spending an occasional night with the boy's father.

But when Patrick was nine years old that same woman was taken from him. Evelyn had complained of dizzy spells one day and the day after that she'd collapsed. Before anyone could help her, her heart had stopped beating and the young prince lost the woman who he thought was his mother. Sylvia had shown up a few days later to comfort them. He'd seen the pain in her heart as she'd watched the boy she'd given birth to weep for his mother.

It was during this stay that he'd begged her for the biggest favor since he'd asked her to bear his child. But he'd seen his son with Adonis, and could think of only one thing that could mend the boy's broken heart. And so it was that about a week later the two once again ventured into the royal stables, which were, also once again, off limits on orders of the king. Cassius was on loan to one to Rowland's subjects whose mares had gone into season, but a stallion he'd sired was on hand and had caught the centauress' eye.

Sylvia had departed the next day and returned about eleven months later with a beautiful young foal in tow, a gift for the king's son. When he saw the colt Patrick looked happy for the first time since Evelyn had passed, and Sylvia knew that conceiving and bearing a feral stallion's foal a second time had been worth it. Little Patrick had been dreaming of becoming a knight since he first sat on his father's steed and surprised no one by naming his colt Valiant.

It had been about eight years since they first met, and both Patrick and Valiant had grown considerably, although the stallion had finished growing a little while ago and was waiting patiently for his rider to catch up. While the king prepared to welcome Sylvia as she arrived on another ostensibly diplomatic visit, he felt a twinge of regret that she'd be spending more time with her three children than him.

Rowland had re-married about a year ago, more for the sake of duty than a desire for a wife. While quite attractive, his new bride looked like merely a pretty girl when help up against the memory of Sylvia's body in all its feminine glory. Still, his current queen was a much more passionate woman than Evelyn had been, but unfortunately much more possessive. She preferred to be close to her royal husband at all times, and that had meant an end to his affair with the centauress. The potential for a kingdom-shattering scandal was too great, and no woman, not even Sylvia, was worth more than a crown. Or so he kept telling himself…

*******

“Ugh, I'd like to meet the person who decided quilt can cushion a blow from a length of solid wood! I can't wait until I'm old enough for a suit of plate…" Simon complained, removing the padded garment and rubbing sore spots on his arms.

“You might change your mind when you feel the weight of it, and the ache in your joints after wearing all that steel. Besides, you have to get better at parrying blows, armor can only do so much." replied Hugh, feeling a little bad for being responsible for most of Simon's bruises.

“Oh that's rich! So now you're our swords-master? My my, Hugh you are coming up in the world, aren't you? Why, only yesterday you were the squire to a landless knight, and before that the son of the castle smith. If Ser Lionel hadn't taken pity on you, you would have been pumping the bellows while our armor was being forged!" quipped Xavier, the son of king Rowland's brother.

He was the eldest in their group, and none of them were really fooled into believing he was coming to his cousin's defense. Simon and Gerrard were sons of count Benedict's cousin, and their father had plans for them that required they learn the graces of a royal court, so he sent them to live with their uncle. And while Xavier had no problem treating the two more like subjects than close kin, he resented anyone else disrespecting members of his family.

While it was true that Hugh was a smith's son, few people knew that the king himself had urged Ser Lionel to take the boy on as a squire. No one really minded, since it was agreed that the lad was more suited to swinging swords than forging them. It was even remarked that his face had an almost noble look to it. What wasn't remarked that the look was practically regal, and the lad had been born in king Rowland's bachelor years…

“Don't think ill of Hugh, Simon. He was only showing off 'cause he saw Jenny watching us…" Patrick said, ignoring Xavier's rudeness and steering the conversation away from Hugh's common birth. The mention of Jenny, as always, served to derail a conversation as the young squires all got wistful looks at the thought of her. She was a serving maid, a pretty girl on the cusp of becoming a woman, and quite noticeably so. She has supposedly been saving herself, but the way she kept stealing looks at the young men around the castle suggested she wouldn't be for much longer.

“Jenny's pretty enough, for a girl, but I want my first conquest to be a woman." Xavier proclaimed.

“Got one in mind?" Hugh asked. He had a crush on Jenny and wasn't sure of he should be glad there was one less competitor for her affection, or bristle at the way the count's son had dismissed her as a mere girl, so he did a bit of both.

“I've had my eye on Nissa for quite a while, and I've noticed the way she looks at me. I'm just biding my time before I make my move…" he said smugly.

And while the assembled youths thought little of his chances with Nissa, all agreed that the exotic woman was a prize worth pursuing. Years ago, a spice merchant had visited the castle, and in his caravan he had a young woman who'd prepare little dishes featuring his wares, so as to stir up a potential buyer's interest, by way of his appetite. King Rowland had bought plenty of the spices, but had also offered Nissa a generous salary to work in his kitchens, which the travel-weary woman eagerly accepted.

Even in plain work clothes and an apron Nissa was a remarkably attractive woman, with smooth olive skin, shiny black hair gathered in a long, thick tail, full sensuous lips and a figure that was definitely womanly rather than girlish. The boy's interest in the dusky beauty predated their interests in either women or girls. Their early forays to the kitchens were not to catch a glimpse of her bosom straining against her apron as she kneaded some dough, but rather to try and coax some sweet pastries out of her.

Their interest in her cooking never really faded, but was in time supplemented by their interest in Nissa herself, and they would often find some excuse or other to wonder down to the kitchens. A lively debate soon sprung up as to which of the women was fairer, with Hugh and Gerrard extolling Jenny while Xavier and Simon praised Nissa.

“Patrick, you're awfully quiet. Come on, we need someone to break the tie. Who's prettier – Jenny or Nissa?" Gerrard prompted the young prince. Patrick didn't take a lot of time to ponder his response.

“Well, both are very pretty, but I think Lady Sylvia has them beat hands down." He said, and the youths fell silent while they considered this new entrant into their little contest.

“Hah! The Grand Dame?" Xavier scoffed “You do know that's only a very polite way of saying 'fat old mare'? Cousin, if you want a female with big, bloated udders, why not just mount an actual cow?"

The count's son's views surprised no one who'd ever heard his lady mother speak on the subject of Lady Sylvia. The countess held the view that a woman of such scandalous proportions had no business walking around in scant, clingy gowns, stating firmly that Sylvia embarrassed not only herself, but all women with such improprieties. The countess' figure had never been called scandalous. And once safely away from earshot of her and her kin, some still repeat the old jest that the only reason Count Benedict sired a son on her was to prove to the world that he did not marry a boy.

“Hell, even a cow only has one udder!" Gerrard added loyally.

“Yeah Patrick, if you got her into bed and she rolled over on you, you'd probably suffocate…" Simon joined in, although his voice lacked conviction. It occurred to him that the arguments he made favoring Nissa over Jenny would apply to the Grand Dame even more aptly. It also occurred to him that if he were the one trapped beneath Sylvia, with her breasts filling his vision, his final thoughts would most definitely not be 'No, I want the last thing I see to be the ceiling!'.

“Well, to each his own, I guess. If you do manage to open those massive thighs, you're welcome to whatever sort of fat, flabby cunt you find between them…" Xavier said, and the moment those words left his mouth Patrick was rising from his seat and lunging for him. The two were son struggling on the ground and the others managed to separate them, but not before Uric, the sword-master saw the scuffle.

“Well, Xavier, Patrick, it seems a morning of sword drills wasn't enough to exhaust a couple of strong young lads such as yourselves. If you have an excess of youthful energy that you need to work off, I've got some chainmail that needs scouring. How about it, want to spend a couple of hours rolling barrels of sand and steel up and down the yard?"

“No, sir." The sheepish reply came simultaneously from both of the accused.

“Good, then shake that dust off and shake hands. You're young gentlemen, not to mention kin. You shouldn't be fighting in the open like a couple of dock-side brawlers."

The two reluctantly did as they were told, before going each their own way. Patrick was still fuming over his cousins' words, walking in long strides towards his room when he almost bumped into someone on the stairs. Looking up, he almost wished he had.

“Oh, hello Patrick!" the lady Sylvia beamed at him, the prince's mood improving instantly at the sight of her. “And where are you so eager to get to that you're willing to run a lady over?" she teased.

And so he'd told her what had happened. He'd always felt like he could tell Sylvia everything even more so after his mother passed. His stepmother was kind to him, but never showed him the maternal affection he got from the golden-haired beauty now standing before him, and certainly not now that she was carrying a child of her own. Sylvia listened to him carefully, as always, before chiming in.

“Aww, such a young cavalier." She said, bending over to kiss his forehead, and incidentally giving the prince an awe-inspiring glimpse of her cleavage straining the fabric of her dress.

“I'm flattered you think I'm beautiful sweetling, I really am, but don't you think I'm a little too much woman for you? I'm sure a pretty young girl like Jenny would be much more suitable for a handsome young boy like you…" she said. Her voice was kind, as it always was when she spoke to him, but had a hint of mischief beneath it. She ran a hand long his cheek before descending the stairs, leaving a blushing young Patrick behind her.

The youth was stunned. He wasn't hurt by the woman's apparent polite rejection of him, but it made him wonder. Had I tried to… court her? He looked back on the incident in the yard. Sure, Xavier had been rude, but he often was. He'd squabbled with his cousin before, but had never even threatened violence. And just a few minutes ago he'd tried to throttle him without so much a warning. Xavier was more than two years older than him, and even though people commented that Patrick was big for his age, it would have been a close thing at best.

And yet he hadn't even though about it. He leapt at his cousin, intent on beating an apology out of him. And even though it went against everything he'd been taught about chivalrous behavior, he still didn't feel bad about it. It had felt right to fight for Sylvia's honor, as any knight would have done for his lady lov…

Was that it? Well what did you think it was? a voice inside him seemed to say. You think she's the most beautiful woman in the world, your face lights up at the sight of her, and her touch makes your heart beat faster. As his mind struggled with this realization he turned around, his legs moving as if on their own and following a familiar path, or perhaps Sylvia's lingering scent.

*******

The centauress' long sigh of pleasure echoed in the empty bathhouse. She could never understand how the humans could neglect such a treasure. It was a sizable room, the floor and walls tiled with cream-colored marble, and contained three spacious pools. Each steaming pool was fed from a deep, hot spring, and the water was always divinely warm no matter the season. As she descended the stairs into one of them, Sylvia could feel the heat spread through her body, any tension in her muscles melting away, making her feel like she was floating on the cloud of steam rising from its rippling surface.

Communal bathing used to be quite common among the nobles in bygone times, when the baths were first built, but the humans had grown prudish over time. For modesty's sake, most of them were willing to squat in tubs of lukewarm water behind screens in their chambers, rather than taking advantage of these luxurious pools. Well, most of them, at least. The knights and squires knew modesty was well and good, but it wouldn't soothe a body battered in the exercise yard the way these baths would. But since the men had a room all their own, that meant the female bath was Sylvia's private slice of paradise.

As he crept along the stone corridor, Patrick was glad there was very little noise other than the soft tread of his feet. It meant the rest of the squires weren't in the men's bath, probably due to the awkward way they'd all parted. Instead all he could hear was a soft, familiar humming coming from the opposite passage, the one leading to the ladies' section.

Although this wasn't the first time Patrick was sneaking a peek at Sylvia as she soaked in the hot pools, it had been a few years since he'd done so. It had started out as a bit of childish mischief – he'd loved spending time with the woman whenever she came to visit, and tended to be upset whenever he couldn't follow her around, such as when she went to bathe. At first, it had just been the thrill of doing something he knew he shouldn't, but even then he liked looking at her. He knew even as a child that she was beautiful in a way no other woman in the royal court was.

But as he peeked around the corner this time, it wasn't the thrill of misbehaving he felt. He had a side-view of Sylvia as she sat on the bench carved into the side of the pool. Her arms were spread out on the marble, eyes closed and head thrown back in delight as she relaxed. His eyes fell lower, focusing on her glorious mounds and the tiny droplets rolling down her milky-white skin. He could just make out their rosy tips sitting above the water line, and every time Sylvia breathed in, her chest would swell and her nipples peek up before sinking again when she exhaled.

He could feel his own breathing become labored even as he watched her. There was no doubt in his mind anymore that he desired Sylvia, that he wanted her as much as he ever wanted anything in his life. He would have to find some way to prove to her that he was a man, and more than that – a man worthy of her.

As he watched her he realized how silly it had been to attack Xavier over his insults. They seemed like such feeble things, completely insufficient to mar this beauty. After all, a man could spend every day of every year calling the ocean shallow, but that didn't mean he'd ever be able to wade across it. And his cousin could call Sylvia fat, or a cow a thousand times over in every language known to man, and his words would still roll off her skin like these droplets, leaving unsullied perfection behind.

As Sylvia opened her eyes, she thought she caught a glimpse of gold flashing from the doorway before it promptly disappeared. A smile touched her full lips as she focused on a little spell that would enhance her hearing. The magic flowed through her and she could hear someone trying to breathe rapidly yet quietly as his heart thudded in his chest. And she knew just who he was.

Sylvia had been wondering if her little remark to the young man would do the trick. Since he was back to peeping on her bath time, she supposed it did. The truth was that she'd been quite flattered by her son's defense of her honor and her beauty. She noticed he'd also been looking at her a little differently, just as she hadn't failed to see the way he'd changed. Patrick had grown into a striking young man –his tall, lean frame was starting to fill out with taught young muscles, hinting at his future strength. His hair was the same shade of gold as hers, and his youthful face was handsome bordering on beautiful.

And those deep blue eyes, so innocent, even as they once again stealthily focused on her. She felt a little stirring deep inside her, the heat swelling in her loins competing with the warmth of the pool. Her mind conjured up visions of the youth, his trim young body pressed against the softness of her curves, the feeling of his warmth on her, in her…

Well, let's give you an eyeful then.

Patrick almost bolted as Sylvia rose nymph-like from the pool, making her way up the marble steps. Water cascaded down her pale skin as she emerged, the droplets caught in the patch of yellow hair above her mound glittered like diamonds set in gold filigree. There isn't a straight line on her the young man mused as he took in her curvaceous form. Her breasts were magnificent, the two heavy globes riding high on her chest despite their obvious weight, but still bouncing and swaying tantalizingly with every step she took. As one looked lower, as Patrick was doing now, her body narrowed into a waist so slim and firm it looked more appropriate for a girl like Jenny than a woman of Sylvia's proportions.

And that same waist flared sharply into a pair of hips so wide they would have put a pagan fertility goddess to shame. Her buttocks were so full and so perfectly rounded that a master sculptor might match their perfection, but only if he devoted his entire life to such an endeavor. Combined with long, toned legs, it gave the woman a breathtaking, swaying gait, and men would often stop and turn around to watch those cheeks bounce within their silken confines, often forgetting where they were going.

The room was lit by numerous oil lamps, and as their warm glow bounced off the rippling surface of the pools, it sent lines of golden light dancing across Sylvia's pale, still glistening skin. In a moment of clarity, Patrick realized how he'd wronged her by saying she was the most beautiful woman. Before him stood the perfect woman, a vivacious, sensual soul wrapped in a form of unmatched beauty. She stood now with water up to her knees, and the prince worried she might be finished with her bath before she bent over slightly to pick up a bar of soap. Patrick released a breath he didn't even realize he was holding as Sylvia began to perform her ablutions.

Sylvia smiled as her enspelled hearing picked up the young man's wistful sigh, knowing all too well the sight that had inspired it. None like you. Rowland's words came floating to the surface of her mind. She'd heard him whisper them often enough, sometimes in an awed tone after she'd disrobed in front of him, sometimes while his shaft slowly softened inside her. Always in a voice that left no doubt as to his sincerity.

She knew that to the king she'd been his greatest conquest, but still only one woman among many. That was all she could ever be to him, but she hadn't minded, enjoying their passionate affair for what it was. But she had different ideas for Patrick. She didn't want to merely be a fond first for him, a wonderful youthful adventure. She realized she might end up giving quite a lot of herself to the boy, and in return she wanted to be his everything. And in order to bask in the warmth of his love, she would first need to stoke his fire a little…

The world melted away for Patrick as he watched the curvaceous beauty dip the soap into the pool before slowly running it along her body. As long as he could remember, his greatest aspiration had been to become a great knight, but now he'd give anything to be that bar of soap, sliding along Sylvia's perfect, milky skin. She turned a little to the side, no longer facing away from him but fortunately to engrossed in lathering herself to notice her spectator. A good thing, because Patrick wasn't sure if anything could move him at this point.

The smell of rose petals and honey soon filled the room as creamy white suds was spread slowly and diligently all over Sylvia's glorious body. He watched as she covered each long, graceful arm, before running the bar over her delicate shoulders. As she began to lather her pillowy mounds, the woman let out a long, low moan that seemed to melt together with its echo and linger in the steamy, fragrant air.

Patrick's eyes went wide as she began to rub the foam into her heavy teats in slow, circular strokes, hefting each heavy breast slightly before letting it drop back with a happy little bounce. The suds made the rosy tips of those luscious mounds look as pale as the rest of her skin, but her stiff nipples jutted out proudly, as if resenting any attempt to obscure them. The young man unconsciously licked his lips at the sight of those massive mammaries. His body still remembered deep down the taste of Sylvia's teats, even if his mind didn't.

Sylvia could feel her son's eyes running up and down her body as surely as she could feel the bar of soap and so made sure to put on a nice show for him. In order to maintain the illusion that she hadn't spotted him, she kept her face turned slightly away from the door, albeit at a coquettish angle. She gave out a little hiss as her fingers closed on her stiff nipples, holding the sensitive nubs firmly as she pulled her breasts up. Her soapy fingers could only pinch so hard before the weight of her teats made her nipples slip form her grasp, letting the two lush globes fall back with a delightful bounce.

She then made a show of gently rubbing the sensitive nubs, cooing as her fingertips danced along the tips of her breasts. Sylvia hefted a round, ripe globe in each palm, demonstrating that even her long-fingered hands couldn't hope to contain such a bounty of pale, soapy flesh.

Her hands then made their way down, rubbing the fragrant bar over her trim tummy. Despite bearing two foals and one human child, her midsection remained much the same as it had been when she was a filly – a flat stomach and a slim waist, just begging to have a pair of strong hands wrapped possessively around it. As one hand trailed down her tummy it slid over the patch of gold hair beneath it and the centauress shuddered as it touched her loins, still sensitive from her 'ride' earlier that day.

She turned her back to the door, and her hidden admirer, when it came time to soap up her lush rear. Laying her hands on the perfectly round cheeks she began to stroke in long circular motions. Her fingers would flex and tighten, grasping and pinching the pliant flesh of her majestic ass so much that the suds covering them took on a pinkish hue, hinting that the sensuous mauling had given each massive cheek a nice, rosy glow.

She than began to run her hands up the rear of her thighs, starting near the top so that she would lift her pillowy buttocks on each stroke, before her hands slipped and her bottom came bouncing down. She made a show of rubbing the suds on each thigh, and when she did the insides she would start at the knee, letting her hand travel up the expanse of flawless, pale skin before it disappeared from view somewhere between her legs.

Sylvia gave a little smile of satisfaction as she prepared for the grand finale of her title performance. Keeping her back to her son, and on the pretense of cleaning the lower part of her legs she bent over and began to rub soap into her shapely calves. As she did her luscious rear flared out, the muscles in her buttocks taught beneath the layer of supple, perfectly curved flesh. Her most private parts were suddenly on full display to the peeping youth, and Sylvia had conveniently 'forgotten' to soap up her nether lips.

As she felt her son's gaze settle on her in all her feminine glory, she flexed the muscles in her little love tunnel. Her previous lover had left copious amounts of his seed inside her earlier that morning, and Sylvia sighed in satisfaction as she felt a little dollop of it slip out of her to drool past the smooth lips of her cunny.

The centauress had fallen into a habit of visiting the human realm when she was in heat, and found that even her altered anatomy couldn't really stop her sex from winking. While she wasn't a slave to her season's like a feral mare, being in heat always put her in an amorous, flirtatious mood, and kept her like that for about a week. And it was the perfect mood to be in when you wanted to coax a male into acting like a stud!

And while men often lusted after pure, untouched maidens, Sylvia knew for a fact that nothing stirred the masculine spirit like seeing a nubile female with seed dripping from her still needy sex. It touched on something primal inside them, making them jealous, covetous and eager to assert their dominance. To the experienced centauress, there was no better guarantee of a good rutting than a lover who had something to prove!

Patrick's mouth fell open as his eyes fixated on the vision in front of him. They went up from the firm, muscled calves she was diligently soaping, following the path up those long, shapely legs. The suds was already sliding down them, revealing strong, thick thighs and that majestic rear thrust out at him. Her ass was so big it would have been vulgar if only it wasn't so perfect, each round cheek tantalizingly smooth, covered in that pale, unblemished skin. The young man could feel his palms itching as they yearned to press themselves against that plush bottom, to squeeze, grope and fondle that vision of carnal glory.

Hoping the lad would remember to breathe, Sylvia finished up by washing her feet, making sure to wriggle as she did so, making that lush rear bounce and twitch as her hips swiveled. After she was done she straightened up and turned around, making sure to keep her eyes lowered as she descended the steps and slid into the pool once again, so that Patrick would continue to believe she hadn't spotted him. As her body sank beneath the steaming surface, the foam covering it spread out like lace over the rippling water. Her legs were the first to disappear from view, and she let out a sensuous sigh as the heat of the pool touched her mound and soon spread above it. After her pillowy breasts disappeared inch by tantalizing inch, she lowered the rest of herself into the bath. When the water was up to her chin, her eyes suddenly shot up to look at the door, a coy smile gracing her lips before her lovely face sank out of view.

Patrick threw himself against the wall on the other side, uncertain if he'd been spotted. He risked a quick look inside just in time to see Sylvia emerge, her wet hair slicked back, a cascade of gold clinging to her neck and revealing her beautiful visage, flushed supposedly from the heat of the spring-fed pool. She gave no indication of having seen him as she stepped out of the bath and reached for a large linen towel.

Patrick thanked his lucky stars that he'd not only had a chance to witness the buxom beauty in all her glory, but to do so without getting caught. Not wanting to push such good fortune too far, he made his way quickly and quietly away from the baths. But as majestic as the sight of her had been, there was no longer any doubt in Patrick's mind. He wanted Sylvia, more than life itself, and he'd do anything to make her want him…

*******

It was morning the next day, and Patrick and Valiant enjoyed a companionable silence as they took the hunters' road through the forest. Despite its name the 'road' was just a very well-beaten path that wound through the woods but was a pleasant route for a ride even when one wasn't out hunting. And after galloping across the fields, Valiant seem to enjoy a walk along the meandering path. Still, he surprised his rider by veering from the trail after raising his head and tasting the air.

“And what's got you eager to go trampling through the bushes?" Patrick asked. Valiant couldn't answer of course, but he understood every word. Being disciplined as well as bright, he didn't take another step forward without his rider's approval, but gave the young man a nicker as he shook his head in the direction of what looked like a game trail.

“Well, one direction's as good as another. As long as you don't get us lost. Again…" the prince teased. Normally, a rider would rein in an unruly mount, but Patrick didn't have a destination in mind, so he figured he might as well let his steed choose their path. In truth, the youth had gone out riding only after hearing Lady Sylvia had already taken Adonis out. While he wasn't looking for her, knowing she preferred privacy when riding, he certainly saw no harm in innocently bumping in to her. But both woman and stallion were nowhere to be found. Not that he was looking, of course…

Valiant seemed quite preoccupied with something, stopping every now and then to smell the air as if he was a hunting hound sniffing out game. Patrick could tell this was a deer trail considering some of the trees along it had been gouged by stags marking their territory. Normally, Valiant would have taken a delight in rubbing his own muzzle along the damaged bark, leaving his scent and contesting the deer's claim, but he seemed too preoccupied now.

The stallion then slowed his pace, taking great care before setting each hoof down and giving Patrick the distinct impression that he was trying to sneak. Just as he was about to inquire into his steeds unusual behavior he heard a loud whinny from just up ahead. He wasn't sure why, but he dismounted and joined Valiant on foot, the two of them creeping as silently as they could along the narrow path.

There was a clearing up ahead, and the young man spotted what he first thought were two horses before realizing that one of them sported the upper half of a human body instead of an equine head and neck. A woman's body, he corrected himself, as he caught a flash of the centauress abundant cleavage. She had her back to him, and he couldn't make out her face from a wild mane of golden hair tumbling past her shoulders. But he had no trouble recognizing the horse.

It was Adonis! His father's steed was here in the middle of a forest, whinnying as he pranced around the mysterious centauress. The magnificent beast was easy to recognize, his powerful frame covered in a jet-black coat apart from a white star on his forehead and matching socks at the end of each leg. The centaur mare, in contrast, had a palomino coat not unlike Valiant, but where his steed's fur was creamy, the centauress' coat was a yellow that almost matched the gold-blonde of her hair and tail. But what was this female doing with Adonis? It wasn't an easy thing to steal a warhorse who knew for a fact only the King, Patrick and Lady Sylvia were allowed to ride him.

“Ooh, such a naughty boy, showing off like that in front of mommy!" the centauress cooed, eyes still glued to Adonis. Patrick looked at Valiant and put a finger to his lips as he crept along the edge of the clearing, seeking the cover of nearby bushes. His steed followed him conspiratorially, doing quite a good job of sneaking around for such a large creature.

The mare's words were still ringing in the young man's ears. Could this really be Adonis' mother? He knew that horses like him and Valiant were born to female centaurs, but it occurred to him that he didn't really have any idea who'd borne the two highborn stallions. Just then a loud smack rang out from the clearing and once Patrick spotted the ebony length bobbing between the black stallion's legs, he knew what the female had meant by showing off. He was stunned by what his eyes saw. Was the stallion really showing off that in front of his own mother?

“You must have really enjoyed out ride. Can you tell how much I did? Could you feel me soaking your back as your powerful muscles flexed between my legs?" she husked to the prancing equine, but Patrick was certain he'd misheard her. Although the equine half of her body was smaller than that of the stallion showing off in front of her, the idea of her riding him was still absurd.

“So now I suppose you want to ride me? You want to burry that thick, glistening shaft past my delicate little folds and rut me until I give you a foal?" she said teasingly. As she talked, Patrick watched her long, golden tail swish left and right, revealing a glimpse of a pink equine slit, winking excitedly and dripping in anticipation. He knew she was teasing him, that every swing of her tail would send her scent wafting, urging the stallion on.

A feral horse would be desperately trying to climb on top of her by now, but Adonis seemed to be putting on a show of his own. He snorted as he pawed the mossy earth with his heavy hooves, shaking his long black mane and even going so far as to rear up on his hind legs, giving the mare an excellent view of his throbbing erection. The centauress seemed satisfied by his amorous display, nimbly turning around and presenting that deliciously round rump to the stud. And when he saw her face, Patrick had to cover his mouth to keep from crying out. There was no doubt about it, that was Sylvia! There was no mistaking her elfin face, or the mischievous smile curling her pouty lips, although Patrick's eyes didn't linger on her face too long, settling instead on the mare's still bouncing bosom. The round, heavy teats still looked massive on her human chest, but somehow more proportionate with this new body. A body that Adonis was showing a lot of interest in.

“You like my scent, do you baby? Well why don't you give mommy's mare-pussy a little taste?" Sylvia cooed, feeling her sex winking in flagrant invitation.

It didn't take the stallion behind her long to accept it, and she gasped as she felt the cool puff of his breath against her steaming sex, a moment before he began to nuzzle her lips with his. Her hands sought out her breasts, kneading the pillowy mounds as the stallion behind her began to expertly tease her. After all, they had been on quite a few of these 'rides' together, and her son, clever creature that he is, learned that there's more to pleasing a female than pumping her full of his cum.

She squeezed her breasts, fingers digging deliciously into the soft flesh that kept spilling from her hands. Her nimble digits found her little rosy nubs and began tweaking the stiff tips, making her tail flag even further for the stud diligently licking her flashing cunny. The mare shuddered as his tongue slipped past her lips, just deep enough to give her a little extra thrill, but not enough to satisfy the heat even now spreading through her body.

A smack from behind her told her the loving attention to her mare parts was having an effect on her son as well. They both knew this game well, and would keep trying to drive the other wild until neither could take any more. Only then would Adonis mount her, claiming his dame as his mare as he speared his equine shaft past those twitching folds.

She cooed as he slid that large, broad tongue deeper in, a mere hint at the stretching her pussy would receive once he was on top of her. The centauress accommodated him by spreading her hind legs a little, showing him just how much she wanted him inside her. She continued lovingly mauling her expansive chest, a shiver running down her back every time she heard the stallion's shaft smack against his belly.

As Sylvia felt his tongue slip out of her sex, she turned around, looking over her shoulder with a playful pout as she flagged her tail even further to the side. All the while her equine son kept planting little playful nibbles all over her blonde rump, making the lush cheeks twitch with every gentle love bite. He did a good job of teasing her, and Sylvia could hear her pussy winking before she finally felt that large head settle on the top of her rear.

She knew the signal and made sure to brace herself. She gave a little grunt as Adonis mounted up and her son's weight settled on her equine back, but her stance remained firm. Still, it took quite a bit of strength to carry a stallion's weight, for even though Adonis wasn't as heavy as his sire, she knew from experience the young stud would remain on top of her for much longer. Not that she was complaining…

As he moved his hind legs closer to hers she could feel his hot breath on her mane, and so made sure to flip the long golden tresses to her front, so as to give her stallion access to her long, graceful neck. She felt the tip of his shaft nudge against her sex gently a few times before the stallion angled his hips and gave a push, although far too low for her liking. Still, she did moan at the sensation of the equine cannon sliding between her teats.

“Ooh, such a wicked lover my son's turned into, to tease his mare so cruelly…" she cooed in mock disappointment even as she gave the nipples of her human breasts a vigorous pinching.

Adonis just huffed into her neck as he pumped his cock a few more times in the more modest cleavage nestled between her rear legs, making the pert pink mounds slick and shiny from the pre he was spurting. As much as they both enjoyed this little game, despite Sylvia's mock-protestations, the stallion could not reign in his instinct much longer. Drawing back his powerful haunches, he carefully positioned the tip of his bobbing shaft until it was gently kissing the mare's frantically flashing quim.

Patrick stood as motionless as a statue, with parts of him nearly as hard, as he watched the majestic steed penetrate the centauress that had apparently given birth to him. The young prince had seen horses mate before, but this wasn't the wild lunge of a breeding stud, penetrating a mare violently as he leapt further on her back. Adonis slid inside his lover in a smooth, fluid stroke, his shaft disappearing past those wet folds as he deftly shifted his hind legs closer to his mate's. The mare let out a long groan of delight, eyes closed and head thrown back as she accepted the throbbing appendage, a cute gasp escaping her when she felt the stallion's hips finally touch her honey-colored rump.

Unlike a feral horse, Sylvia didn't need to restrain her son to keep him still. He was an experienced lover by now, and knew how much she enjoyed this moment, this first languid entry into her eager, steamy depths. And she made sure to show her enjoyment, winking her pussy around her son's length, her love-tunnel rubbing against that masculine spire lodged so deep inside her. She felt Adonis nuzzle the side if her neck, reaching out to stroke the star on his forehead as she leaned into his kisses.

Mixed feelings arose in the young prince as he watched the two lovers share an intimate interlude. He had too many fond memories of Adonis to feel any hostility towards the stallion, and although he knew a part of him should be hurt or upset at watching Sylvia with another male, it only seemed to make her more desirable in his eyes.

After hearing a slap from next to him, he finally unglued his eyes from the coupling pair long enough to notice his own steed. Valiant also seemed to be enjoying the show, judging by the large pink shaft he was slapping against his underside every so often. Horses weren't naturally built for sneaking and hiding, but the palomino stallion was doing his best, keeping his head and tail low, and even going to far as to keep his ears folded.

A wet slurping sound coming from the clearing brought his attention back to the scene in front of him. The two must have already made quite a mess inside Sylvia judging by the lewd, wet sound the stallion's cock made as it slowly withdrew from her, inch after glistening inch leaving those stretched equine lips. When he was as far back as he could get without moving his hind legs, Adonis slowly fed his length back inside that welcoming pussy at the same sensual, tantalizing pace.

Sylvia let out a long moan of delight, confident that the forest surrounding them would swallow up her debauched noises. She could feel herself clench around the shaft as it slid out of her, her equine pussy seeming reluctant to let it go, clinging to every thick inch of the stallion's spire. She shivered in delight at the sensation of her son's medial ring as it flicked her clit on its way out, as well as the way it rubbed against it when the ebony length was slowly fed back into her.

A feral stallion would be rutting her senseless by now, lost in the instinctive need to breed. And while her son was very much a stud, he was also a lover, eager to please as well as to mate. He was slightly smaller than his sire, but where the Clydesdale's powerful cock had stretched her out almost painfully, the shaft currently claiming her moist depths seemed perfect, her marehood fitting around it like a glove.

She let herself get lost in the experience, relishing the sensation of Adonis' strong legs wrapped around her equine waist in a loving and possessive gesture, the heat of his body on her golden-furred back, and his tender kisses on her neck and collar. But most of all, the sensation of his maleness as it claimed her most intimate depths with every stroke. The way his tip brushed against her cervix, the sensation of her lips stretching taught around the thick base of his shaft, the tickling of their combined juices as they dripped out of her cunny and down her teats.

“Mmmh, good boy. Now, show me what a big, strong stallion you are…" she husked, and could immediately feel her son tense on top of her.

Planting his hooves a little further apart, the ebony stud began to buck into his dame, the powerful muscles on his haunches flexing under his inky-black fur as he drove his shaft into the moist passage wrapped lovingly around it. Sylvia would let out an encouraging gasp each time the stallion bottomed out inside her, using his forelegs to pull her back a little every time he thrust. For her part, the centauress pushed her rear out and braced her forelegs, allowing her to better take her son's vigorous pumps.

Her fingers continued to dance across the supple flesh of her breasts. She would lift a heavy mound in each hand before letting them go and watching them bounce back down on her chest, stiff little nipples bobbing tantalizingly in the cool air. Her son was now rutting her at a steady pace, and the mare regretted that she was denied the sight of his cock sawing in and out of her.

In her mind's eye, she conjured the image of that wonderful spire of flesh, veins and ridges covering its inky-black length, each one serving to stimulate her insides further. It would be glistening now, polished to a shine by the plump pink lips wrapped taught around it. She pictured what her own sex was like by now, the pink petals turning a healthy rosy color from the rutting they were receiving, and shiny from the juices being churned out of her noisily with every movement of that equine cock. It was still winking, her little clit still flashing in and out of her. Every once in a while it would slip back in just as Adonis' ring was slipping out, and that ridge would flick her button in such a way the mare had to struggle to keep her legs from buckling underneath her.

The two males watched in mute silence at the mating pair. Patrick couldn't believe Adonis' endurance. A feral stallion would have covered a mare twice by now, including a little break for some oats in between mountings. The black stallion was beginning to work up a lather, sawing his shaft in and out of the moaning mare underneath him, but still showed no sting of stopping. A muffled nicker next to him drew his attention to his co-voyeur just in time for him to spot the palomino's cock spurting on the ground between his forelegs. Valiant apparently didn't have his brother's stamina. Although, if he was being honest, the young man doubted he would have lasted any longer if he had been touching himself.

Mixed feelings arose in the centauress' lust-fogged mind as she felt her son's tip begin to flare inside her. While a part of her regretted their little interlude was nearing its end, another, more primal part rejoiced at the imminent deluge of hot, virile stallion spunk. Her son had never failed to satisfy her, and even though she'd already had a small orgasm from the loving pounding he was giving her, she knew the big one would only come when he did.

“C'mon honey, give it to mommy… Empty those gorgeous balls inside me and leave me dripping your cum!" she moaned, her voice shaking with every thrust.

Even if the stallion hadn't been intelligent enough to understand every word, there was no mistaking her needy, carnal tone. With a proud snort the stallion began to piston his cock in and out of his dame in short, rapid strokes. Where a feral stallion would finish with only a few wild lunges before bottoming out and seeding his mare, Adonis' hips were a blur as he pummeled the mare's rear end.

If Sylvia was in any discomfort from her stud's passionate rutting, it wasn't showing on her face. Her beautiful visage was a mask of ecstasy, her full lips parted and her eyes rolling back in her head. She bit down on one finger while her other hand wrapped lovingly around her sons head. With nothing holding her massive chest, her luscious mounds were bouncing wildly with every powerful thrust of the stud's shaft.

She could feel him growing within her, that glorious feeling of being stretched somewhere deep inside. As his flare mushroomed, forming a seal that would force his seed into her womb, Adonis closed his mouth on his dame's shoulder, giving the centauress a gentle but possessive mating bite. She craned her neck to kiss his head, her breath hot and ragged against the side of his face as she felt him shove the thick base of his cock into her and hold himself there.

Patrick didn't even realize he was panting as he watched the thrusting stallion suddenly become stock still apart from his glossy black tail that flagged proudly before coming down, signaling that the stud had claimed his mare. He could see his heavy black orbs rise and there was no mistaking Sylvia's cry as anything other than sheer ecstasy. He watched her breasts rise and fall with each deep, ragged breath she took as the stud emptied himself inside her.

Sylvia panted as she came down from her climax, her love-tunnel still milking her son's shaft of his warm, gooey seed, despite the amount he'd already pumped into it. Adonis, sentimental soul that he was, stayed on her all that time, dismounting only when his now soft shaft slipped out of her on its own. A cascade of pearly-white stallion cum followed the bell-like tip as it retreated back into the stallion's plump sheath.

“Ooh, such a wonderful stud. But now be a dear and clean mommy up. I can hardly get dressed with such a mess back there…" she said, giving the stallion a few winks to demonstrate her point.

Adonis didn't seem to mind. He'd managed to clean the mare's messy privates in less than a minute, with Sylvia squirming as he ran that huge tongue over her over-sensitive sex, walking up in front of her when he was done. The centauress scratched her son affectionately behind his ears as the horse nuzzled up to her bountiful bosom. Sylvia cooed lovingly as the stallion latched on to one nipple and began to gently suckle it. The equine's large mouth would have easily encompassed most breasts, but such was the centauress' cleavage that the horses head looked almost proportional as the stallion nursed it.

“Mhh, you know your brother's all grown up now. I think it's time I've let him have some fun…" Sylvia spoke softly. Adonis didn't take his mouth of her nipple, but he stomped his hoof once, a curiously petulant gesture for a stallion.

Valiant's head had shot up at the centauress' last utterance, and Patrick had to quickly grab his halter and pull it back down to stop them from being spotted. His steed seemed to understand his mistake, but nevertheless he kept swiveling his ears to better pick up the conversation, especially any more mentions of him.

“Oh now, don't be jealous." She said coyly, her voice implying that she was very much worth being jealous over. “Tell you what, I'll take him in the stables tonight. That way you'll see that he won't be getting anything I haven't already given you…" she finished.

As he watched them, a part of Patrick wanted to walk out there, to profess his desire to Sylvia and take her just as Adonis did. But a more sensible part of him suspected that now that their tryst was over, the two would be leaving the clearing, possibly by the very trail he and Valiant were blocking. The two shared a conspiratorial glance before quietly making their way down the game trail. Once back on the hunters' road, Patrick mounted up and the two set a brisk pace back for the castle. And neither of them couldn't stop thinking about what would take place in the stables later that day….

*******

As the night went on the castle fell asleep, for the most part. There were three males in the stables who were awake, and very anxious. So when the large wooden door slowly swung open to admit Sylvia wearing nothing but a clingy nightgown, three pairs of eyes swung in her direction and fixed themselves on the sight of her. Hidden behind a pile of hay, Patrick felt his heart jump to the back of his throat at the mere sight of the golden-haired beauty.

Sylvia wore a satin nightgown, a creamy yellow color that uncannily resembled the coat her centaur form. The robe was open so that it showed the expanse of pale flesh between her luscious breasts, the ripe globes even now straining against the fabric, threatening to pop out with every swaying step she took. It was belted tightly around that slim, girlish waist, just before it gave way to those flared hips that swung mesmerizingly as she sashayed to the center of the stable.

She hung the lamp on a nearby post and proceeded to light a few more, bathing the room in a warm, soft glow before proceeding towards Valiant's stall, a sinful smile gracing those oh-so-kissable lips. Halfway there, she undid her belt, shrugging off the nightgown and revealing her naked body to the young stallion. Even though she was still in her human form, Valiant couldn't help snorting and pawing the ground.

“My my, someone's happy to see me…" she cooed, reaching out to pet her son's forehead. Almost as if he knew what's in store the centauress mused as her nickered lovingly, leaning his head into her touch. “Come and let mommy have a look at you…" she said, opening the stall door and letting the eager young horse out.

From his hiding place, Patrick rolled his eyes at the way the cream-colored stallion pranced out, eager and strutting as he tossed his pale mane. Although he had to admit that if he was in his shoes, he'd probably be doing the same. He felt a pang of jealousy at the way Sylvia looked at her son, the appraising way she was running her eyes over the sleek equine form.

“Ooh, what a big, strong stud you've grown into. Have they let you mount any of the mares yet?" she asked, slowly running one hand along Valiant's sides, the stallions muscles twitching at her touch as he shook his head vehemently.

“No? Well, that just won't do!" Sylvia exclaimed in mock indignation as she neared her son's haunches. “It's just not healthy for a virile young thing such as yourself to get pent up…" she cooed, her hand slipping until it was cupping the young stallion's already plumping sheath. Valiant stomped his front hoof as he felt a silk-soft touch on his privates, eliciting an envious snort from the watching Adonis. Patrick found himself heartily agreeing with the elder horse.

Sylvia lowered herself to her knees, gently stroking her son's swiftly emerging cock. She would change before she took him, of course, but the human body was quite convenient to get up close and personal with her sons. Her eyes savored the sight of the stiffening equine shaft, noting its unblemished pink color, so much like her own. His scent began to fill her nose, a spicy, earthy, but more than anything male fragrance that spoke to the mare in her. She ran a palm along the underside of the erect shaft, bringing the blunt tip up to her face. She leaned in and kissed it softly, before sealing her lips around it and suckling gently, just as her son had once suckled her.

The stallion nickered at the sensation of first lips, and then a deft tongue curiously gliding along his sensitive glans. And he let out an actual whinny when Sylvia's other hand gently cupped his sack, palming the heavy orbs inside with silent approval. Patrick watched in stunned silence, a silence that was only broken by the occasional sound of delight from Valiant, or the sound of swallowing from Sylvia. A minute or so later, the golden-haired beauty took her mouth off the equine appendage, her lips still slick with Valiant's juices.

Patrick watched as she examined the fingers of one hand before sliding a slim, glittering ring off one of them. She seemed to slip the band somewhere in her flowing mane, and moments later her body, which until then had merely been bathed in the soft glow of the lamps, began to outshine them. It grew to the point that the young prince had to look away, as reluctant as he was to tear his eyes off the woman of his dreams.

When he looked back it was still Sylvia standing there, albeit with more legs. Seeing her change, Patrick honestly wasn't sure which of her forms he found more beautiful. As a human, she was a study of firm, bouncy curves covered in smooth milky-white skin, a promise of a soft yet madly passionate embrace. As a centauress her curves were still eye-catching but seemed more proportionate, more taut. Her equine body made her taller and made her beauty all the more imposing, a promise of strength and vitality as well as sensuality. Either way she remained in Patrick's eyes the perfect woman.

And considering the length of stallion meat bobbing between his legs, Valiant was enjoying the view as well. Sylvia looked over one shoulder, hitting the young stud with the full force of her bedroom eyes. To further fan the flames, she kept swishing her silky tail, letting Valiant catch both her scent and glimpses of her winking marehood. Valiant's discipline could only take so much, and after a few seconds of that he'd practically trotted over to Sylvia before sticking his muzzle in her privates.

“Mmh, someone couldn't wait to get a taste of mommy, huh?" Sylvia teased her son even as he teased her flashing folds. Still, the mare didn't seem to mind, raising her tail to one side as she parted her rear legs and thrust her hindquarters out at the eager stallion.

What he lacked in experience Valiant seemed to make up in enthusiasm, and Patrick could see that Sylvia was very much enjoying his first effort at eating a mare out. What the young stud did lack was patience. After a brief but vigorous tonguing, judging by the centauress' honey smeared all over his pink muzzle, he gave Sylvia a few nibbles of her golden rump before placing his head on it. A second later he was leaping up on her back, his hard shaft bobbing wildly as it sought out that eager equine slit.

“Ooh, a little lower, honey!" Patrick heard Sylvia gasp as Valiant's cock prodded firmly just beneath her tail. Her eyes shot open a second later as the stud mounting her found her sex and with one hard buck buried more than half his length in her.

“Ow! Slow down, sweetie! If you don't know how to – uf! – treat a lady, maybe I'll shake you off and let Adonis mount me to show you…" she said, and the black stallion gave a loud nicker of approval at the suggestion.

Valiant took the threat seriously and Patrick could see him struggling to tame his impulses. He didn't doubt for a second Sylvia's threat was genuine despite the fact that she obviously loved her two sons. He suspected that if she was ever with a lover who didn't know just what an amazing woman she was, she wouldn't hesitate to show him there were plenty of males who did.

The prince could tell Valiant was making an effort to make love to the centauress, rather than just breed her. It was obvious he didn't have his elder brother's skills. Although gentler, his thrusts were still jerky rather than languid and the front legs holding his mare kept shifting and scrabbling, instead of holding her in a firm, confident grip.

Still, Sylvia gave every indication of enjoying the lovemaking, crying out in delight every time Valiant bottomed out inside her. She was toying with her breasts, seeming to take special pleasure in having Adonis' eyes on her full mounds as she rolled them on her chest. Her front legs were extended in front of her, to help her cope with Valiant's somewhat erratic thrusts, which only served to push her rear out at the stallion that was so eagerly spearing it.

Patrick found himself bucking his own hips every time Valiant thrust into the moaning mare. Tucked away in the shadows, beyond the ring of lamplight, he was barely even hiding anymore. Looking back on it later, it was clear that he was tired of peeping, that he'd wanted to be caught. But Sylvia seemed too distracted by the spirited efforts of the no longer virgin stud pistoning that warm, hard shaft in and out of her wet slit.

“Ooh, good boy. So pent up. I bet you –ah!- can't wait to pump me full of your seed, to leave me a dripping, quivering mess…" Sylvia moaned as the stallion bucked into her. In truth, she was working herself up just as much as him, knowing Valiant couldn't last very long his first time, and wanting to make sure she climaxed along with her son, sharing in his very first moment of ecstasy.

Patrick's feet were shuffling forward before he'd even realized it. He felt like he was in a daze, gliding toward the beautiful centauress moaning lustfully under her stud. He wasn't sure if he could have stopped himself if he had tried. His heart was pounding in his ears as Valiant's thrust became shorter and sharper. Time seemed to slow for a second and he could see Sylvia's glorious golden rump ripple with every impact of the stud's hips into it.

“Ah! Patrick!?" Sylvia's surprised gasp broke him out of the trance. The woman's face, a confident visage even in the throes of ecstasy, now betrayed her shock at seeing the young prince. The hands that had been so vigorously toying with her teats made an effort to hide the pillowy mounds, failing miserably yet gloriously to do so. “W-what aaaaaAAH!!" Sylvia tried to speak but was interrupted by a rather hard thrust by the stallion still pumping away at her rear. It occurred to her then that she could either talk or mate, and that one of those things could wait.

It dawned on the mare that the young man was her son just as much as the stallion breeding her and the one that had done so earlier that day. In that light his presence wasn't really an intrusion, as surprising as it was. Face flushed but looking more composed, she beckoned the stunned youth towards her.

Patrick was sure he would awaken any second now, that he'd fallen asleep behind the hay waiting for Sylvia to some to the stables. This was, after all, the woman of his dreams, reacting to his uninvited presence with an unexpected warmth. His eyes were wide as saucers as he approached her front. He was closer to her naked breasts than he ever was, the lush globes bouncing so close to him that he could almost touch them. He looked up (quite a way up!) at Sylvia's face, the question that his lips couldn't form written in his expression.

She flashed him an inviting smile, the youth's hands rising up towards those bouncing mounds. With her front legs stretched out in front of her, the mare's human half was lowered slightly, so that her mouth-watering bosom was level with the prince's head. Patrick was visibly awed as he touched them, noting how small his hands looked when pressed against the tender globes. He realized he was panting, his hands trembling as they gently squeezed the pliant flesh of Sylvia's perfect teats. The weight of them in his palms, the feel of her silky skin, the sight of those rosy nipples stiffening under his touch were everything he had imagined it would be.

The centauress smiled warmly, surprised how good Patrick's hands felt on her. His touch was tender, almost loving, and a good deal different than the vigorous kneading she usually gave herself, but she found his gentleness pleasant, especially since Valiant was being anything but. It also occurred to her that this sneaky little lad could give her something better than an inexperienced fondling.

Patrick never noticed Sylvia's hand on the back of his head until it started to gently guide him closer to that glorious rack. When he was close enough to notice her skin getting goose-pimples from his breath, he realized she'd guided his head to her chest. Looking up at her he saw an inviting smile and lust filled eyes, and he kept looking up at them even as his mouth sought out one of her nipples. The sigh the centauress let out as his mouth latched onto her teat seemed to travel down his spine as the awe-struck young man began to gently kiss and suckle the sensitive little nub.

Assaulted from both sides, the mare felt her climax approach. She knew Valiant couldn't hold out much more. His tip was already starting to flare, but to his credit her son was doing his best to keep himself from cumming before she was ready to, eager to prove something to either her, or his older brother watching from the sidelines.

“Ooh…" Sylvia cooed, pushing Patrick's face off her nipple and between her pillowy breasts. She held him tightly to her expansive chest, the young man angling his head up either to look at her face, or to keep from being smothered by her bosom. “I can feel him flaring. Your little colt's about to become a stallion…" she husked, teasing both males. The prince trapped between her teats gave no reply, but he did reach out to wrap his arms around her human waist, a curiously loving and possessive embrace. Gasping for breath, the centauress pressed him even more firmly to her chest, wanting him to hear her heartbeat as she came

A shrill cry of ecstasy was torn from her throat as her climax washed over her. Patrick's grip on her seemed to tighten as the young man buried his face in her breast, while Valiant gave one last thrust that almost raised her hind-legs off the ground, burying himself in her quivering sex. The stud let out a proud whinny as his shaft erupted inside its velvet prison, flooding his dame's womb with a torrent of hot, virile stallion spunk.

As Valiant drained himself inside her he kept giving her neck loving kisses and nuzzles, just as Sylvia kept planting little kisses on the forehead of the stunned youth nestled between her lush teats. As the stallion withdrew from her well-bred love tunnel with a wet squelch, Sylvia was pleasantly surprised that he'd started cleaning her creamy muff without even being asked. That brought her attention back to the prisoner currently trapped between her breasts.

“Now, just what are you doing hiding in the stables at this time of night?" she asked in a mock-stern tone, completely unconcerned that she was addressing the prince and royal heir.

“Well, I saw you in the forest this morning and overheard what you told Adonis after…" Patrick trailed off. He felt emboldened and encouraged by the way Sylvia had initially reacted to his presence, but still found it difficult to bring up some things.

“After he was done fucking me?" Sylvia asked, her voice indecently playful. She knew the answer even before the knowing blush spread across the lad's face. “Those woods are a bit out of the way. Would I be right in assuming you didn't walk there?" she said, casting an accusing glance over her shoulder. Valiant kept his face hidden, but busy, so she could forgive him. No wonder he knows what I expect from a stallion once he's done…

“So you've been spying on me, you wicked little thing. Then why did you suddenly feel the need to make your presence known?" she asked coyly.

“Because I am done watching you."

The words had left Patrick's mouth before he realized it, and the moment they were out he'd regretted speaking them. It was too presumptuous, too crass… But honest. It was as if his heart had taken over his mouth, speaking the simple truth without worrying about propriety or consequences. And as a result it might wind up getting crushed.

As she regarded the young prince looking up at her, Sylvia flicked her tail briskly over Valiant's face, telling him that she was satisfied. The young stallion took the hint and quickly went back to his stall, eager to avoid inquiries into who carried Patrick to the woods, or how the young man had managed to find the mating equines.

“Such a bold young man…" Sylvia said, running a hand along the side of his face, and her tone seemed to carry some admiration, rather than her usual playful teasing. “Fortune, they say, favors the bold. However, before we discuss your fortune, I'd like to get a bit more comfortable." She said, slipping her hand into her hair and retrieving the ring she had on earlier. She slid it onto one delicate finger, and seconds later her body began to glow again as the magic took effect. When he could look at her again, she was standing in front of him on two long, shapely legs, one hand resting on a scandalously cocked hip.

Sylvia regarded him for a second before strolling past him, grabbing a horse blanket as she did. She tossed it over the pile of hay Patrick had been hiding behind before laying back against it. Sylvia sank a little into the soft hay, looking as comfortable as if she was lounging on a pile of silk divans, wriggling her body sinuously before beckoning the young prince closer with one finger.

“Stop." She said when Patrick was a step away from her, halting the youth in his tracks. "Now undress for me…"

“W-what?" Patrick almost squeaked.

“Well, you seem to have seen quite a lot of me. If I am to take you as a lover, I feel I should have the right to a glimpse myself, don't you?" she asked, her voice still playful, but no longer teasing. Instead there was a coaxing note to it, a gentle urging that inspired confidence. And if as if that wasn't enough, Sylvia started wriggling her folded legs, rubbing those wonderfully thick thighs together as nibbled on one finger.

Patrick could feel her eyes crawling over him as he striped, exposing more and more of his young body to the golden-haired beauty's appraising gaze. When he slid his underwear down and straightened up, he found it difficult to lift his eyes from the floor. Part of him was terrified that Sylvia might laugh at him, dismissing him as she turned her attention to the stallions behind him. When he finally found the courage to look up, her eyes had the same lustful, hungry look they did when focused on Adonis or Valiant.

Sylvia took a moment to drink in the sight of the anxious youth standing naked before her. He;d grown into quite a handsome young man. His figure was still lean, but his limbs were toned rather than gangly, hinting at the muscles years would put on that frame. She smiled as she noted the the little gold bush below his belly, much like her own, and the smile only widened as she focused on his shaft. The already erect rod almost hinted at a centaur heritage, an appendage a grown man would have been proud of looking even bigger on the still growing youth. Her satisfaction must have shown on her face since the young prince was now standing a little more confidently in her presence.

“What a handsome young man you've grown into…" she said in a voice wistful and honest. “Now, come here and get warm and comfy, so we can have a little talk…" she said, scooting over to one side and patting the blanked next to her. She smiled as she noticed the young man was fighting the urge to run to her, snuggling up next to him once he'd settled down. She just looked him in the eyes, waiting patiently for the questions she knew were running around in his head.

“Sylvia…" Patrick began, feeling a little strange addressing her with just her given name “…w-what are you?" The question seemed blunt once he said it, but to his relief, the beauty nestled next to him didn't seem insulted.

“I am a centauress. But this…" she said, holding up one hand to show Patrick a twisted ring of white and yellow gold “…allows me to assume human form. It was given to me by your grandfather, so I might visit his court incognito." She said, pleased to note there was no disappointment on her son's face when he learned she wasn't really human. Emboldened a little, the young man put a hand on one of her pillowy breasts, a touchingly possessive gesture.

“Oh. So… who are you?"

“Well, my real name is Sylvia. I am the Khâna, or Queen, to my people, although only a very select few people know about it. Whenever I visit here I assume a human form and the identity of the Grand Dame - a mysterious envoy from some far away land."

“So Valiant and Adonis are really your…" Patrick trailed off, worried at the implications of the question. To his relief, Sylvia merely smiled before answering.

“I bore Adonis at the request of your grandfather. It was my part of the bargain that sealed an alliance between my kingdom and yours. Valiant's conception was… different, more of a personal matter. Your father asked it of me shortly after your mother passed…"

“And you agreed?" Patrick asked in awe. It seemed like such a monumental gift. Well worth a lasting peace between two peoples, but was it worth it just to cheer him up?

“Without hesitation. I… I couldn't stand to see my child in such pain." She said softly, a tear glistening in the corner of her eye. As much as it hurt her to recall the boy's suffering, it did her heart good to be free of the burdensome secret she'd kept from him all his life. As she brushed a stray lock of hair from his forehead, the locks the same shade of gold as her own, she saw a spark of recognition in his eyes, and delighted in it.

Patrick felt he should have been more shocked by such a revelation. But a memory came floating to the surface, one so old it wouldn't have come at his bidding. A newborn's sight is a blurry, unreliable thing, but the sense of smell was strong even at birth. And with his head cradled in Sylvia's bosom his nose was filled with her fragrance, making him realize he knew it from before. It was the same scent that had made him feel safe and loved as he nursed, a newborn babe drawing milk and love from his mother's teat.

“But, that means that Evelyn…"

“Evelyn loved you deeply and was as good a mother to you as a child could ask for, but she couldn't give birth. Your father and I had… known each other since before he'd ever met her, and when the two approached me asking me to bear their child, I accepted. The whole thing was done in secrecy to avoid a scandal."

Patrick's eyes fell back to Sylvia's naked form, and as he saw his hand against her milk-white breast, he noticed just how much he shared her smooth, pale complexion. Catching on to his train of thought, Sylvia smiled as she extended one hand. Her palm seemed to glow as she ran it over the empty air, almost like she was polishing something. And just like that, a portion of the space next to them became slightly reflective, like a pane of polished glass caught at just the right angle. It was still transparent, but Patrick could see their reflection and any trace of doubt vanished then and there, when he saw Sylvia's head cradled next to his own. Her long golden curls seemed to melt with his, and although he could see his father's strong, handsome features in his face, he also spotted a trace of Sylvia's more delicate lines in it. Someone noticing it would have dismissed it as a difference in age, but Patrick suspected his face would remain youthful long after it had any right to.

“But if you're my mother, does that mean we can't…" Patrick started feeling his heart sink.

Seeing his distress, Sylvia took his chin in her hand and raised his lips to hers. As she kissed her son, she knew there was no mistaking this for a sign of platonic motherly affection. The kiss was deep, passionate, a firm promise of even further carnal delights to come. And when she finally broke it she couldn't help but smile at the expression on the young man's face, his lips still parted as his eyes struggled to focus.

“Does that answer your question?" she said in a soft but playful tone. “My people do not share the human taboos about sex. We see it as an acceptable physical expression for all love, not just romantic love. It is shared freely between parent and child, as well as between siblings. A father might see his son mount his mother and think nothing of it. He would know the mare loves her son and is merely expressing it, and that it in no way lessens her love for her mate." She said, noting the hope and excitement her words were sparking in her son's mind.

“Humans see passion and desire as something dangerous, and thus cage it within themselves. They believe it must be held firmly in control, and to do otherwise is harmful, even dangerous. With us, it's the opposite - we recognize it as an energy that builds within living beings. The release of it brings joy, even new life, while keeping it bottled up only makes people miserable. We imagine nature as a vast river, and every living creature in it a tributary, doing its small part to make sure the river runs strong and deep."

“But, I thought that if a parent and child, uhm, conceived…" Patrick asked tentatively.

“Yes, incestuous births are a trouble among humans. Centaurs are by their very nature more magical, which is why such unions produce children as healthy as any other. Although it rarely happens in any case. A mare typically reserves her fertile periods for her mate, although it is a custom rather than a rule." She explained.

“But I'm human. Aren't I?" he asked, not entirely certain after this evening's revelations.

“Well, mostly…" Sylvia purred, running her palm along her son's lengthy shaft. “It takes considerable magical effort for a centaur mare to conceive anything other than a centaur foal. The spell I used to allow me to carry a human child was not unlike those that allowed me to give birth to a feral stud's offspring. They bend the rules of nature to allow for such a conception, and children born of such breedings – Adonis, Valiant and you – are always nothing short of perfect. That magic is a part of your very being, so if I were to carry your child it would share in that perfection. Of course…" her voice dropped to a husky whisper as her lips curled in a smile “…you'd have to breed me first."

She gave her son her most seductive look as she basked in the desire her last comment had awoken. The twitching shaft even now throbbing against her palm was a clear answer, but she felt like asking nevertheless.

“So, my darling boy, are you ready to become a man?" she husked.

Her young lover was either unable or unwilling to form the words of a reply, instead pressing his lips to hers in a surprise kiss. It was a clumsy thing, a virgin's kiss, but loving and oh so eager! The young man had a lot to learn, but Sylvia knew she would have such fun teaching him. She ran her fingers through his hair as his tongue slipped into her mouth, timidly at first but gaining confidence when she let out an encouraging moan.

Eventually, he had to come up for air, an opportunity Sylvia used to get into position. She had a lot to teach her son, but for now she'd teach him a little confidence. She rested her folded arms on the hay while placing her knees on the part of the blanket that covered the floor. Her heavy breasts swayed gently from her chest as she arched her back, thrusting her rear out. She knew the best way to turn a young man into a stallion was to assume the role of a mare, wet and wanting.

The lad wasted no time scrambling to get behind her and once he did, Sylvia actually heard him gasp. She knew that from his angle, her rear was quite literally breathtaking. She felt the his reverent touch on each perfectly rounded cheek, feeling his hands tremble as they roamed over the expanse of smooth, milky skin. She gave her rump a little flex, the muscles bunching up under that soft, pliant layer of heavenly flesh. This encouraged her young lover to give the soft cheeks a little fondle, drawing a delighted sigh from the mare. There was something about his touch, sensuous and innocent at the same time, that she found herself really reacting to.

Only now that his hands were on it did Patrick realize just how expansive Sylvia's glorious ass really was. In his dreams he would grasp those cheeks firmly, palming the pliant flesh as she shuddered beneath his touch. His sizable hands nevertheless seemed tiny as they pressed into those glorious globes, sinking a little into their softness before encountering the firm muscle underneath. Still, she did seem to be shivering a little under his touch.

Emboldened, he began to knead the cheeks, rolling them around so that he would spread them wide before squeezing them back together. This got the prone beauty moaning, encouraging her son to give her little pinches now and then, her pale skin briefly taking on a rosy hue wherever he did. He felt like he could spend an eternity happily worshiping that perfect rear, but a twitch of his rock-hard shaft reminded him of his own body's needs. Remembering how the stallions had mounted her, he put a thumb on either side of her moist sex before pulling those plump lips apart and exposing Sylvia's rosy petals.

“I appreciate the thought, sweetie, but I'm ready enough for you…" Sylvia cooed after feeling the youth's tongue flick tentatively across her slit. Valiant had done a good job of cleaning up his mess, but snuggling with her son had caused the centauress to make one of her own. To emphasize the point, she clenched her internal muscles, sending a thin drizzle of her honey oozing past her wet folds.

The lad didn't need any more urging than that. Soon enough his hands were back on her rump as she felt the head of his shaft poke and prod gently. She felt it part her lips, the head wedging itself in her snug little passage a second before he began to slide it further in. She smiled at the groan her son let out as his young cock slowly sheathed itself in her moist pussy. The mare felt like groaning herself as her son's cock pushed in deeper and deeper into her needy sex. Patrick was bigger than any lover she'd taken in this form, and Sylvia bit her lower lip as her human sex received an unaccustomed but welcome stretching.

A shudder ran down her back as the young rod finally bottomed out inside her, her son's hips grinding gently against her plush ass as he panted at the sensation of having his shaft buried in a warm, wet love-tunnel. It was a wonderfully intimate moment as her walls caressed her son's cock, wrapping so tightly around it that she could feel his heartbeat.

“Mmh, such a big boy…" she moaned out, her pussy squeezing down on the rod buried as deep in her as it could go.

She wriggled her rear a little, enjoying the way it made the steely length move around, poking and prodding different spots inside her. A shuddering gasp from behind her was all the warning she had as Patrick's fingers dug into her cheeks, the young man's cock twitching as it began to pump a hefty batch of warm, sticky cum in Sylvia's silky depths. The mare suppressed a chuckle, knowing full well she was to blame for the her son's over-eagerness. She'd been teasing him mercilessly for the past few days, and after watching Valiant give her his virginity, it was no wonder he didn't last long.

“Ooh, is mommy to much woman for you? Don't worry, sweetie, we can just cuddl…" she began, rising and sliding off her son's shaft a little before she felt his hands wrap firmly around her slim waist. She figured he was probably a bit embarrassed, and wanted to get his composure back before he looked her in the eyes.

To her surprise, however, the young man gave a short, sharp buck of his hips, her pussy making a squelching noise as some of his cum was pumped out of it. It was followed shortly by a second thrust, and it then occurred to Sylvia that the shaft moving inside her still seemed fully erect. That boy is full of surprises! she thought, but seeing how this particular surprise was quite a pleasant one, she decided to go with it. The mare rested her head on her folded arms, once again assuming the submissive, eager posture for the 'stallion' behind her. It seemed to have an effect on the young prince, his hands once again moving to her pillowy ass as his strokes became longer.

Patrick had been doing his best to keep himself from finishing too soon, but when Sylvia had ground her rear against him, his control broke. It had been a moment of both ecstasy and anguish as he fulfilled his dream of claiming the golden-haired beauty in this most intimate of ways, and also his nightmare of appearing inadequate and juvenile in her eyes. But whether it was due to youthful energy, or sheer willpower, his shaft remained firm. As Sylvia began to slide off him he'd gripped her waist, determined to atone for his failure.

Even though his cock was still very sensitive, he clenched his jaw and began to pump that majestic rump. To his relief, the centauress had resumed her earlier posture, her head lowered and that juicy rear thrust out at him. A second chance was worth the discomfort of feeling her insides rub against his now over-sensitive shaft.

Fortunately for Patrick, Sylvia's tunnel was still slick from the sizable load he'd left inside her, and he'd soon adjusted to the sensation of her pussy griping his almost aching cock. Looking down he saw that the plump lips wrapped snugly around him were a creamy mess as his long, slow strokes pushed more and more of his seed out of her velvety sex. Unlike her pervious comment, the moans now leaving the mare's mouth were anything but patronizing, and the pulsing of her eager cunny around his length only served encouraged Patrick.

After managing to pry his eyes away from the sight of her creamy slit, he was left nearly breathless at the sight of her bent over like this, in front of him and for him. He caught those eyes, lidded as they met his, those full lips pursed as Sylvia gave voice to her lust. He could see her massive breasts hanging below her, swaying enticingly with every thrust he made. But his jaw dropped when his eyes travel back to settle on the mare's thrust-out rump.

That glorious expanse of round, creamy flesh bounced and rippled with every stroke he made. He began to make sharper thrusts, delighting in the sound his hips made when they smacked into those perfect cheeks. All the while his hands groped, kneaded and pinched lovingly, almost reverently. And every touch was rewarded with a gasp, a moan, or a playful cry if he pinched a little harder.

Sylvia's eyes glazed over as she enjoyed her son's vigorous humping. Now that the young man had caught his second wind, that sizable shaft was hitting all the right spots as it pistoned vigorously in and out of her. Her human form wasn't used to having such a magnificent tool stretch her out so much, not to mention bottom out inside her with every stroke, and the mare wasn't faking the lewd sounds coming from her mouth. And the attention the her son was paying her rear end certainly wasn't helping her keep quiet.

She imagined what he must look like from behind, her pert little rear clenching up as it bucked and smacked against her majestic ass. She could feel his strong hands dancing across the milky-white cheeks, fondling and pinching so much she was sure the pale buns were pink by now. Feeling a little impatient, she began to thrust back, pushing her rear out just as Patrick shoved his hips forward. The stables were soon filled with the sounds of his firm young body smacking into hers, and the mare could feel her lush rear jiggle with every delicious impact.

Patrick had lost all track of time, lost in this perfect moment. The woman of his dreams bent over in front of him, her slick cunny wrapped lovingly around his shaft as it clung to it every time he pulled out and dimpled a little when he pushed in. He kept pumping her tirelessly, wishing this moment would last forever, but more importantly – determined not to stop until he'd made her cum.

He'd seen her climax under both Adonis and Valiant, heard her cry out in joy and lust as her cunny milked their spurting cocks, and wanted to do no less himself. The thoughts of the stallions mounting and breeding Sylvia seemed to touch on something in his mind. His gentle caresses of Sylvia's ass became a firm grip as his pace increased. His sizable cock was now slipping only about half way out before being driven back in. The sound of his hips smacking against her ass filled his ears, along with Sylvia's long, shaky moans. His jaw dropped at the sight of that glorious ass rippling as he pummeled her pussy, determined to put the two stallions to shame.

Sylvia was biting down on her lip, surprised by such a vigorous breeding from the, until recently, virgin youth. She was grateful for Patrick's cum lubricating her pussy, knowing that without it her folds would be sore from the almost bestial way that cock kept sliding in and out of her. The little game she'd played with her son – teasing him, doing her best to make him jealous – was now paying off as Patrick bred her soaked slit with all the ferocity of a wild stallion. She could feel the seed he'd already pumped inside her leak out, the pearly rivulets dripping from her folds and soaking the little patch of golden hair just above her mound.

She felt close, and while that thick, hot shaft would have been enough to make her cum, Sylvia decided to stoke her fire a little. She slid one hand down her trim belly and into that still warm, sticky mess on her lips. Her fingers began to rub vigorously, making the woman mewl as her clit was stimulated while her cunny was being bred. She blushed as she smeared her son's cum around her stretched folds, so engrossed that she barely noticed one of his hands leave her rump. She gasped in surprise as his fingers slid under hers and took over, tweaking her clit with little expertise but lots of enthusiasm. Such a gentleman! she thought as she surrendered, letting her son take control. She looked behind him, catching his gaze just as she brought the messy fingers to her lips. She made a show of opening her mouth and extending her tongue a little before slipping the dripping digits in, moaning whorishly as those full lips closed around them and she began to suck them clean.

Patrick felt his cock twitch in its silky tunnel at the sight of Sylvia licking his seed of her dripping fingers. With one hand holding her rear and the other busily rubbing the top of her slit, he knew he couldn't last much longer, but he was sure that Sylvia would last even less. He wasn't even sure what he was rubbing down there, but whatever it was the woman writhing on his cock seemed to enjoy it, moaning around the messy digits now sliding in and out of her mouth suggestively.

Sylvia's climax took Patrick by surprise. All of a sudden she was making strange, whimpering noises as her already snug pussy seemed to pulse around his cock, squeezing and milking the shaft lewdly as it gushed around it. The velvety assault was more than the young man could take, but an idea hit him just before his orgasm did. Fighting his instincts he pulled out of that moist slit, eliciting a surprised mewl from Sylvia. He gripped his slick shaft and gave it a few strokes before it twitched and jerked, sending ropes of hot, sticky cum arcing all over Sylvia's glorious ass.

The centauress was surprised at first to feel her son's shaft leave her, thinking that the young man had slipped out accidentally. When she felt the first wet streak land on one cheek she realized what he was doing, blushing a bit as Patrick painted her rump. Playing along, she gave a long, lewd moan she thrust her rear out as much as she could, giving the gorgeous rump a little wriggle to show her eagerness. She could feel her pussy clench with each gooey shot that landed on her rump. Greedy little thing, you've had two loads already!

Patrick panted like a dog, his vision clearing in time to focus on the sight of Sylvia's streaked rear. The constant smacking of his body against her pillowy cheeks had given them a rosy hue, which only served to make his cum stand out as it oozed along those perfect curves. Not even the exhaustion rapidly washing over him could diminish the sense of triumph the young man felt at the sight of the gorgeous woman wriggling her messy, well-bred rear out at him, her smiling face still flushed from her own climax.

Sylvia turned around and lay on her back, beckoning her son and lover closer. She couldn't help but admire him, his hair tousled, young body glistening with sweat except for the softening member which was still dripping with their combined juices. It didn't take much urging for her son to lay down on top of her, her plush breasts pressing into his hard chest as his cock rubbed against the messy patch of gold hair bellow her belly. She drew him into a kiss, a slow and passionate thing as the two lovers enjoyed the afterglow.

“So, was it as good as you hoped it would be?" Sylvia husked after breaking the kiss, her blue eyes boring into his as a smile touched her mouth.

Patrick couldn't from the words, being literally awestruck. His imagination and his dreams combined failed miserably in preparing him for the real thing. The feel of her skin under his fingers, the smell of her arousal, the sublime sensation of her sex wrapping around his shaft as if it never wanted to let it go all had the youth's mind reeling. Unable to express himself with words, Patrick pressed his lips to Sylvia's instead, shuddering as she moaned into their kiss.

Good answer! The centauress thought, wrapping her arms around her young lover.

*******

Hooves rustling through the thick carpet of dead leaves, the two riders entered a small but familiar glade. Patrick could still make out the hoof-prints Sylvia and Adonis had made less than a week ago, when the proud onyx stallion had mounted the centaur mare. Today however, the stallion, as well as his own mount, would be in for a disappointment. He didn't have any opportunities to be alone with Sylvia since their night in the stables, but the shape-changed centauress had nevertheless managed to subtly tease him at every opportunity.

As far as he knew, Sylvia had no human lovers apart from him and his father, but the golden-haired beauty was a notorious flirt. She seemed to take a peculiar delight in making grown men either blush, or struggle to find a way of covering their crotch that wouldn't draw attention. After their night together, it rubbed Patrick against the grain to see her pay attention and compliments to other men, and he was desperately eager to claim her as his own once again. Which, he suspected, was exactly why she did it in the first place.

“Well thank you for the ride, my darlings…" the mare addressed the two stallions after dismounting Adonis “…but if you don't mind I'd like some alone time with Patrick."

The announcement was met with two frustrated nickers, and Sylvia couldn't help but notice neither of her equine sons had budged.

“Oh now don't be like that! Tell you what, why don't the two of you have a little race? And as a little incentive, I'll give the winner a little visit tonight, and the runner-up tomorrow…" she cooed. The two sets of equine ears pricked up at that, and the stallions each gave a snort as they turned back toward the trail leading away from the clearing.

Once the two were on their way, Sylvia disrobed with a practiced ease before helping Patrick out of his clothes, the young man's fingers seeming to get quite clumsy as his eyes settled on her naked body. Once they were off, Patrick wasted no time, wrapping his arms firmly around Sylvia's slim waist, holding her close as he buried his face in her hair. Sylvia smiled, kissing the top of his head to get his attention. Once his eyes met hers she bent down to plant a kiss on his lips, wrapping her own arms around her son as she slowly but surely felt his body respond, his young cock hardening as it was rubbed against her.

“Mmh, looks like my stallion wants his mare…" she husked into her son's ear “… so I guess the only question is – how?"

She'd spent the past days wondering how her son would chose to take her next time he got the chance. Would he want her on her back, so that she could look her in the eyes as he entered her? Or would he want to feel her tongue on his young cock as she wrapped her lips lovingly around his shaft? Still, she wouldn't be surprised (or disappointed) if he chose to take her as he did the first time. Her son did seemed to be quite enamored with her bubbly behind…

“Uhm, could you take your ring off?" the young prince asked, breaking the centauress' train of thought.

That was one request she honestly wasn't expecting. She remembered Rowland had always found her centaur form beautiful, and had certainly told her so often enough, but he'd only ever made love to her as a human. As magnificent as it was, her real form didn't really sexually excite him. She wasn't sure if it would excite Patrick, but saw no harm in letting her son see her as she truly is.

A few brief moments later and she was standing in front of Patrick in all her equine glory. She couldn't help but notice that while her form had changed, the expression on her son's face hadn't. It was still a mask of equal parts awe and sexual desire. It wasn't that Sylvia had any doubts about the appearance of her real body. Centaurs tended to be lot more attractive than humans on average, and she was a rare beauty even among her own people. So why was it that her son seeing her as one made her heart flutter so?

The last time Patrick had seen Sylvia like this, she'd been moaning under a rutting stallion, caught on the edge of her climax. It was a glorious sight to be sure, but now he had a chance to really drink in the sight of her true form. She was a tall woman as a human, but her head was even higher now, giving her a domineering aura as she looked down at him, albeit warmly. She shifted her hooves daintily, the equine motion making her heavy teats bounce in a different way as they hung enticingly just above the lad's head.

“Like what you see?" Sylvia asked coyly, although she was surprised how good her son's eyes felt as they drank in the sight of her.

Unsatisfied with merely looking, Patrick took a few steps closer to her. The centauress couldn't help but note it wasn't the timid gait of an awestruck boy, but the confident tread of a young man approaching his lover. Maybe a little too confident… she thought, dancing nimbly out of reach before she began to trot teasingly around the smiling youth. A grin soon spread across her own face, the mare feeling a bit silly, but nevertheless giddy. These were a filly's tricks – teasing a colt playfully to hide her own insecurities –and they had served her well in her youth. But why was she resorting to them now that she was a mature, confident woman, with dozens of lovers behind her?

Patrick couldn't help but smile at the way Sylvia was playing with him, her equine muscles rippling under the honey-colored coat as she pranced around him gracefully. The display was playful but erotic, as the mare's breasts bounced freely on her chest, her long glossy tail swishing to and fro, like a silk sash trailing from a dancer's waist. Every now and again she would approach him, allowing him to brush his hand against her body before dancing impishly away. Even though he failed to catch her on those tries, he'd caught her scent – a sweat and heady thing that seemed to make his mind swim and his shaft twitch.

Sylvia did eventually allow herself to get caught, striking a demure pose as she let her son to run his hand along her true body. She felt the fine muscles on her sleek equine half twitch as Patrick ran his hand along her strong back. When he reached her hindquarters, the mare felt her rear legs shuffle a little, making her firm rear wriggle as her tail swished from side to side. Patrick's hand now traced the curve of that mouth-watering rump, the muscles firmer than in her human form but still perfectly round and begging to be groped.

As he fondled the mare's furry cheek, Patrick couldn't help but note the difference between Sylvia's two forms. As a human her body was a vision of soft sensuality, and while he found her centaur self just as arousing, there was a sense of strength and wildness to it. Even her scent seemed subtly different, and now that he was standing next to her rear, it also seemed more pronounced. The next time Sylvia's tail swished, it seemed to stay to the side a little longer, letting the her son see just why.

His jaw dropped at the sight of Sylvia's pink equine pussy as it flashed him a bashful little wink, a thin strand of her honey drizzling out of it and glittering in the dappled sunlight. The vision disappeared once her tail slid back into place, and before he could think about what he was doing, Patrick had gently grasped the base of Sylvia's tail and moved it to the side. The centauress didn't seemed to object, flashing her clit a few more times to her eager lover.

Patrick gently slid his other hand first along the plump lips, feeling their heat as they trembled under his touch. He caught Sylvia watching over her shoulder and he could have sworn she was blushing as she urged him on with her eyes. He slid a few fingers in just a little, feeling the wetness and the warmth of the mare's pussy as it seemed to clench around the digits, trying to drag them deeper inside. Even her internal muscles seemed more powerful in this form, squeezing amorously every time that equine slit winked. It certainly boded well, as Patrick only then realized he intended to take Sylvia as she really was.

It was easy for the centauress to dismiss the young man's touches as merely curiosity, until she felt his fingers withdraw. A moment later, she felt his palms on her rump, his thumbs gently wedging into either side of her steamy sex before he parted her lips. Her pussy was winking eagerly, almost like it was struggling in his gentle grip, an image that nearly made the mare laugh. But it was a different sound altogether that left her mouth as she felt Patrick's tongue flick against her flashing nub before traveling up the length of her pink petals. A shiver ran along the mare's long back as she felt her son's lips press against hers as his tongue probed deeper still.

His appendage wasn't as broad as long as those of his half-brothers, but it seemed more delicate, more nimble. And those fingers were no longer content to simply keep her spread wide, instead dancing around and between her sensitive folds, and every now and again brushing against her sensitive clit.

Sylvia tweaked her nipples, biting her lower lip as she felt her juices start to drip from her needy sex, only to be lapped up by the eager young man behind her. It occurred to her then that her son wanted to take her like this, and to her surprise she realized she desperately wanted him to do so! Mustering every shred of her willpower, but the mare stepped away from the lad before turning around a little so she could look him in the eye.

“Well, if you want to be a stallion…" she said, trying not to pant '… here's your first lesson: never tease your mare unless you're ready to mount her."

Her son returned her lusty gaze with one of his own, wrapping his hand around his cock and giving it a few strokes in reply. As she watched him stroke that long, steely shaft, Sylvia caught herself licking her lips in anticipation.

“Good boy! Now just give me a little space…" the mare husked before folding her legs and lying down. She'd never had a human while in her natural shape, but she had imagined what it would be like, and more importantly how they would go about it. She grunted as she flipped over, and with a little effort managed to roll onto her back. It took some wriggling on the soft, mossy ground, but the mare was finally stretched out. Her pillowy breasts looked even bigger as they flattened out against her chest, her front legs were folded against her barrel in a strangely demure and chaste fashion, while her hind legs were anything but. The two limbs were spread lewdly apart, giving her son a beautiful view of her pert little mare-teats as well as her furiously winking slit.

Patrick didn't need further invitation as he rushed to his mother's side, kneeling behind her as his eyes took in the sight of her. He seemed to take a little too long, judging by the way his mare's tail flicked against his bare legs in irritation. He put one hand on her pert teats, feeling her shudder under his touch as his other hand guided the tip of his cock to her needy opening. The young prince gasped she he felt her cunny wink around his head, the warm, wet folds seeming eager to drag him inside her. He clenched his jaw as he began to slowly push in, eager to avoid embarrassing himself like he did the first time he entered her.

And while in human form Sylvia's pussy seemed perfectly snug as it wrapped around his large shaft, her equine slit seemed to alternate between being a little loose when relaxed and incredibly tight whenever she would wink. It also seemed hotter as he slid deeper and deeper into her, the powerful scent of her arousal filling his nostrils and fogging his mind. He did his best to focus, to keep in control despite the velvety tunnel flexing around his twitching cock as it was pushed further into it. He was almost startled when he felt fur against his thighs, looking down to see his entire shaft buried snuggly inside his mare, the little pink clit flashing excitedly as her sex tried to milk him.

Any fears Sylvia might have had about her ability to even feel a human member inside her, let alone be brought to climax by one, seemed to fade as her son fed her his cock. It wasn't like the equine shaft's her cunny was used to, and the sensation was more like being filled rather than being stretched. But every time her inner walls would flex, she could feel her tunnel mold itself to the hard spire lodged inside it, rubbing and caressing its turgid length.

And as her son shifted a bit, grinding his crotch against hers as he tried to push even deeper into her, she was greeted to a new sensation. His body seemed to conform to hers perfectly, and as he pressed into her she could feel her little clit rubbing against his skin every time she winked. She only now realized how much more sensitive her equine nub was compared to her human one as she did her best not to squirm, worried she might topple over and dislodge that wonderful shaft from her steamy sex.

Patrick felt a surge of masculine pride at the sight of the delighted mare in front of him, but also a deep sense of joy at the sight of his lover's pleasure. He began shifting his hips a little, grinding himself against that equine cunny as his shaft probed around it. Sylvia's hand's had flew to her gorgeous breasts, kneading the pillowy globes and every so often tweaking her stiffening nipples. That brought his attention to her other pair, the perky pink mounds in front of him. Compared to the ones on her chest they seemed almost comically small - two firm little teats, each topped with a nipple the size of the tip of his thumb.

Patrick gently placed his palms against the pert mounds, smiling at the way the mare's whole abdomen clenched up at the touch. Sylvia began to moan as he gently massaged the tiny breasts, and cried out when he gave each stiff nipple a gentle pinch. He slowly withdrew his cock as far as he could, noting the way the shaft glistened with fresh mare-honey before driving it back in with one sharp thrust.

Just as she was struggling to maintain some composure while both pairs of her teats were being fondled simultaneously (a first even for the experienced mare!) the centauress felt her son's shaft slowly withdraw from her winking slit before he slammed himself back in with one thrust. A shuddering moan was torn from her throat as her eyes rolled back in her head. She would have reprimanded Valiant or Adonis for such a stunt, but the truth was their shafts could hurt if the stallions weren't being gentle. Her soaked pussy seemed to be a lot more lenient when it came to Patrick's relatively modest maleness, accepting the brutal thrust with a happy little gush of mare-juice.

Her unsubtle reaction encouraged Patrick to keep his pace, pulling out slowly as Sylvia's silky walls clung to his shaft before burying the whole thing inside her with one hard thrust. The glade was soon filled with the sound of his hips smacking into the writhing mare, the noise becoming wetter as the mare's pussy dribbled around him. And all the while he kept gently massaging and tweaking her equine teats, marveling at how stiff her nipples had gotten.

Sylvia couldn't believe the sounds coming from her mouth, not having heard them since she was a filly. But she supposed they were warranted, since the centauress hadn't been surprised by a lover in quite a long time. Having her human son pump her mare-pussy had seemed like such a strange, ridiculous notion, but it felt so right. And looking down at the young man's face, she saw her own ecstasy mirrored in his handsome features as his hips kept up that delectable rhythm. Her cunny was winking almost constantly now, gripping the steely young cock every time it did.

Knowing he couldn't last much longer, Patrick picked up the pace. He began to make shorter, faster thrusts, pumping away vigorously at the gorgeous mare. He pressed one palm on her teats to steady himself while his other hand drifted lower. He had no intention of cumming before the centauress did, and he had an idea how he could make sure he didn't. The next time the mare's pussy winked he was ready, pinching her clit gently between his fingers.

The sound Sylvia made as her nub was caught told him he'd guessed right. Taking care not to pinch too hard, he tweaked the sensitive nub as his shaft pistoned out of the mares by now quite messy slit. He could tell she was close, both by the tremors running along her body and the lust-dazed expression on her flushed face. Feeling his own climax approach, the young man picked up his pace, his hips a blur as his shaft barely withdrew from those velvety depths before being hilted once again.

Sylvia watched her son pump away at her though a fog of lust, teetering on the edge of her orgasm. She tried to moan out encouragements, maybe tease him playfully, but every time those fingers twisted around her clit she'd cry out in ecstasy instead. Although incoherent, her voice nevertheless carried all of her need and desire, a primal call of a female to her mate.

The mare felt her pleasure build with every tweak, every pump and every wet slap of flesh on flesh, until that wave of desire finally broke. Eyes narrowing down to pinpricks, the centauress let out a high-pitched cry as she came fiercely around her lover's still pistoning cock. Her hind legs trembled as her equine cunny went into spasms, drenching her son and filling the glade with the smell of her arousal. The young man could only last so much with her love-tunnel squeezing and milking his shaft, and after a few more powerful strokes he buried himself as deep as he could before laying his body over hers and wrapping his arms around her.

Although it wasn't flaring, Sylvia could feel his young cock throb within her a moment before a warm, wet feeling spread through her as Patrick came inside her. The mare bit her lip as she almost came again from nothing more than the sensation of her lover's seed shooting into her while her cunny milked him of every precious drop, drawing it deeper within her.

The two remained entwined, trying to catch their breath after the vigorous lovemaking. Sylvia was normally never at a loss for words after sex, but the flirtatious mare found herself speechless as she lay there, feeling the warmth of the his body against hers as his shaft slowly slid out of her. As her lush chest rose and fell with every deep breath, the centauress mused on how much she had given her son, and how much more she'd be willing to give…

*******

Her son's groan as he slipped inside her was almost as welcome as the actual sensation of his steely young shaft stretching her out. To his credit, the young stud had tried his best to tease her, no doubt thinking that since she'd almost dragged him to her bedroom that she was desperate for him. You have a lot to learn, young man! she thought as that long, thick shaft gently kissed her cervix at the same time the boy's hips pressed against her pillowy rear. Fortunately for you, I'm an excellent teacher…

He was learning self-control, if nothing else, and Sylvia found herself almost disappointed that he wasn't already cumming inside her, overwhelmed by both her beauty and the warm, moist confines of her sex. But the way he was holding still and the tense way he was gripping her voluptuous hips told her of the toll it was taking.

“If you're thinking of making me beg fo - Ooooh!" the mare's little remark was cut off by a shallow but powerful thrust, and a clear loud slap of Patrick's hips on her cheeks.

Whether due to her teasing or his youthful exuberance, her son quickly settled into a vigorous rhythm, drawing only half way out of her already wet folds before driving in with enough force to fill the room with the sounds of his firm body hitting her bouncy ass. The shaky moan that left her throat made it clear Sylvia was enjoying herself as the buxom female stretched her front out on the soft mattress. Her heavy breasts flattened out beneath her as she arched her back and thrust her ass out towards her young lover, leaving herself at his mercy.

Looking down at his mother's supine form, Patrick supposed that a stranger might have mistaken her posture for one of utter submission, but the young man knew the woman too well to make that mistake. Stretched out languidly on the red satin sheets with that glorious rump raised and presented, she looked like a queen resting in her boudoir as a harem boy dutifully serviced her.

He pulled her hips back a little to meet every thrust, feeling himself bottom out inside her every time he did. Such was his force that her usually alabaster rear was already turning slightly pink form the furious pace at which he was mating her. Sylvia kept crying out, louder and lustier each time, and the prince hoped that the spell she'd laid to keep their noises confined to this room would hold.

But in truth, the sight of that glorious, blushing rump made it hard to worry, at least for long. When Sylvia was standing, her lush, round ass was eye-catching, but whenever she knelt down and thrust it out it was quite literally breath-taking. As he watched it, time appeared to slow down, the now wet smacks of their lovemaking seeming further apart. His mouth agape, Patrick watched as every slap of his hips sent ripples flowing over those soft, perfectly curved cheeks.

Sylvia's hands gripped the crimson sheets as she cried out over and over, knowing it would only serve to spur her young lover on. Bathed in the afternoon sunlight, she knew she made a spectacular sight, her pale skin taking on a porcelain luster while her mane shone like burnished gold. But as warm as the Sun's rays felt on her back, they didn't match the delicious heat spreading from her rear with each impact of her lover's hips.

The mare's next cry caught in her throat as she felt one of her son's hands drift lower and stop between her now soaked sex and the little patch of soft golden hair above it. She let out a strained whine, biting her lower lip as her lover began to rub her clit, making her entire body shudder form the sudden jolt of pleasure. The stimulation of her little button made her tunnel clench up, which only served to make it tighter, her walls wrapping around the pistoning shaft until she could feel its every contour. She suspected her son wanted to see her writhing and cumming around his lengthy rod before he'd finished inside her.

Grudgingly, she had to admit it might work. Patrick's cock was more than stimulating enough itself, filling her like no human male ever had, and with his fingers dancing over her pleasure-buzzer, the mare wasn't sure how much more she could take. Her toes were already curled as her fingers clenched the bed sheets in a death-grip. Seeing how she couldn't fight her urges, the mare decided to fight back. She began sliding her rear backward, meeting every thrust of her son's hips with one of her own. She also no longer bothered stifling her noises, and soon her lustful moans had almost drowned out the wet smacks of their mating.

The young prince kept his fingers busy on Sylvia's little nub, the digit's already dripping with the centauress honey as they rubbed furiously. Since one hand was by no means up to the job of controlling those flared hips, he moved it to one of her hefty cheeks. The young prince gave it a good, firm squeeze, marveling at the pliant softness of the warm, silky flesh as well as the firm muscle underneath.

His plan to push Sylvia over the edge was backfiring, but in an amazing way. The more he stroked her clit, the more her cunny seemed to pulse and squeeze around his shaft. He could feel his own need mounting, his hips speeding up even though he was sure that as long as he kept his fingers on her little nub, the mare would probably slide back and forth on his shaft on her own.

Sylvia felt her eyes roll back in her head as her young lover's already vigorous rhythm increased until he was pistoning in and out of her slick sex with short, lightning-fast strokes. Her pillowy rear felt like it was on fire, and she knew of only one thing that could quench it. Her breathing became rapid, little tremors seeming to travel up and down her body, harbingers of the impending quake. As she felt her climax approach she managed to take one last, ragged breath.

“Patrick!" she cried out, her breathing becoming labored as she came around that throbbing length still breeding her twitching slit.

Hearing Sylvia cry out his name in the throes of ecstasy was more than the young man could take. Wrapping his hands around her slim waist he pulled her hips back as he gave one last buck into her. He barely heard the happy little mewling noises she made over the sound of his heart pounding in his ears as he erupted inside her, feeding her needy cunny his load. He could feel her squeeze around him like a velvet vise as he ground his hips into her pliant ass with every pulse of his throbbing member, sending rope after rope of his seed into her waiting womb.

His orgasm seemed to last forever, and by the time his spurts had died down he could see a little bit of his seed trickling past Sylvia's stretched lips. He held himself hilted inside her until he felt his cock begin to soften, but once he began to pull out he heard to little slaps as Sylvia's feet landed on his cheeks, holding him in place.

“Is there anywhere you absolutely have to be right now?" she asked coyly, looking over her shoulder. Patrick couldn't help but be amazed at the how quickly the woman recovered her usual composure.

“No…" was the best he could manage, taking deep, ragged breaths as he recovered from the rigors of their lovemaking.

“Good. Because if you think I'm done with you for the afternoon…" she purred, taking her feet off her son's cheeks. A split second later, she pushed that glorious ass back, knocking the boy onto the bed. As a stunned Patrick landed on his back, the buxom beauty kept pushing until she was seated on his crotch, all the while keeping her son's cock lodged inside her “…think again!"

*******

“If you keep tickling me, I might just buck and throw you off!" the giggling mare threatened the young prince whose hands no longer seemed content to stay wrapped around her girlish waist. But her son seemed confident enough either in her self-control or his horsemanship to continue running his mischievous fingers across the human half of her body.

In truth, both of them felt quite giddy at the wicked little scheme they'd gotten away with. They'd left the castle for a walk, but the moment they were out of sight they had both striped down and Sylvia had changed into her true self. Patrick had quickly climbed onto her back and the mare carried them both towards the forest at a gallop. It was profoundly reckless, but quite thrilling, and the two lovers reasoned that anyone seeing them wouldn't have believed their eyes anyway.

Once inside the concealing woods, Sylvia had slowed down so that they could both catch their breath. As the thudding of their beating hearts was replaced by birdsong, the two made their way to a certain secluded glade. And despite her mock-protestations, Sylvia kept her rider safely on her back as she picked up the pace. She smiled as she realized that her son had found a novel way to spur his mare on, but as one of his hands slid up her trim belly to gently brush the underside of one bouncing teat, she couldn't honestly say she minded.

As they entered the secluded clearing, Patrick gave his mother a quick hug before dismounting. He couldn't help but notice the usually composed and confident mare seemed almost skittish, and wondered if his roaming fingers had really gotten her so flustered. As she reached into her golden mane to pull out the by now familiar ring, Patrick waited patiently for her to slip it on, figuring she wanted to change into a human woman before they got intimate. He was stunned to see her hold the ring out to him instead.

“Uhm, Patrick, would you put this on?" Sylvia asked, trying to keep her voice level, but the butterflies in her stomach weren't making it easy on her.

“But, I'm…" the young man began, confused by both the mare's request and her uncharacteristically anxious tone.

“You're more centaur than you think. It will work on you. Please…" Sylvia finished, feeling her heart begin to race as her son picked the little golden band up and slid it on his finger without hesitation, deeply touched by the trust he showed her.

Patrick felt a little dizzy seconds before the world before him seemed to shrink. Once his vision stopped spinning, he realized it was he that got taller. Gone was the feeling of soft moss on his bare feet, replaced by the sensation of firm ground under each of his four hooves. He looked at Sylvia, surprised for a second that he was no longer looking up at her.

As she met her son's gaze, the centauress hands flew to her mouth, tears of joy glittering in the corners of her eyes. The hands served to hide her laugh at the sight of her transformed son taking his first steps. The youth-turned-colt had stumbled after he moved his rear legs forward while his forelegs remained where they were.

“Try not to overthink it. The more you concentrate, the harder it gets to move." she advised, remembering her own first steps after donning the ring “Just be grateful you have four legs firmly planted on the ground. Believe me, this is a lot harder when you suddenly find yourself with only two. If my human rear wasn't so well-cushioned, I might have hurt myself taking my first steps…"

She began to slowly circle her son, admiring his centaur body. His coloration matched hers even in this form, and even though still a little coltish, his equine half was unmistakably that of a stallion. She admired the way his muscles rippled under the gold-yellow fur as he tried to turn around to keep facing her.

“Stand still, let me get a good look at you." She reprimanded him gently, running one hand along his muscular back. When she was behind him she gently grasped the base of his tail before moving the silky curtain aside in order to get a very good look at him. She bit her lip at the sight of his bulging pink sack, and unable to resist the urge to get a little feel of them she gave the heavy orbs a gentle fondling.

“Mmh, such a handsome colt…" she cooed, once again trotting up in front of her son.

“Stallion." Patrick corrected her.

“Oh really? Well then…" she said slyly, taking a few steps so she was a little bit out of reach, but with her rear facing her son “…prove it!" she said, flagging her tail to one side and giving him a little wink.

To his surprise, Patrick found his equine half was walking without any urging, his steps still tentative as each one brought him closer to that golden rump. He could feel his shaft snaking out of its sheath, almost like it was being shaken out with every eagers step towards the waiting, winking mare. Once he was within reach of her, he realized reaching her flashing quim with his mouth would be too difficult, so he settled for using his fingers.

Sylvia didn't seem to mind, flagging her tail as far to one side as it would go and thrusting her equine ass out towards her son. Her lips seemed to flutter against his touch as he slid a few digits past those eager folds. She parted her legs a little and seemed to get into the mood quite fast. Patrick had barely begun and already his hand was slick with her juices, the smell of them filling his nose and having a definite effect on his new anatomy.

He could feel something quite heavy flexing between his legs, and after managing to tear his eyes off Sylvia's moist sex, he tried to twist around so he could take a look at himself. He almost gasped when he was eye to eye with his new equine equipment, marveling at the massive pink shaft slapping against his belly. He'd figured he'd become a little too preoccupied with himself when Sylvia gave an annoyed little swish of her tail, telling him without words who he should be focusing on. Well, if you're that eager... Patrick thought to himself as he maneuvered his new body directly behind the mare. With one proud leap he was on her! And then he was off her…

“Oh come now, I can't possibly be too big for such a strong stallion…" the centauress teased her blushing lover. “Put a little more energy into your jump!" she urged, giving her furry ass a little wriggle to further motivate him. Patrick took half a step backwards before rearing up again, muscles bunching as they launched him onto his mare's back. Her eager little grunt as his weight settled on her was music to his ears, and the young stallion was glad that this time he was staying on!

“God boy! Now be sure to wrap those big, strong forelegs around my little waist, so your mare doesn't' get away from you!" she advised, even though they both knew she had no intention of doing so. Still, Patrick hooked his front legs securely around her, realizing that it did feel somehow right to hold on to his mate like this. But if he was going to make really sure she wouldn't get away.

Sylvia gasped in surprise as he felt her son lean over and wrap his arms around her chest, his hands coming to rest on her ripe breasts. The gasp turned into a sigh of pleasure as her son gently but possessively fondled her heavy teats. They had gotten a little sore from bouncing around during her gallop, and the young man's soothing touch on her aching globes felt like heaven.

“Ooh, now I'm trapped, at the mercy of a rutting stallion!" And loving it! she added silently “Now sweetie, just remember to be gentle and take it easy. You don't want to hurt mommy with that big, hard stud-pole, now do you?"

A gentle nudge against her winking sex was her reply, as she felt her son's equine shaft brush against her fluttering lips, squirting his juices on her already messy mound. She braced her front legs and spread her rear ones a little, holding her breath as Patrick maneuvered the tip of his shaft, trying to get it in. It seemed like an eternity of soft pokes and prods, each one just a little askew before he finally planted his tip between her winking folds.

He bucked into her, but only enough to drive the tip of his shaft into her welcoming sex, the mare crying out lustily as her son's equine cock spread her open. That hot, steely rod continued to sink slowly into her, her tunnel wrapping around it lovingly so that she could feel every delicious contour of the throbbing spire. She could feel it leaking into her, making her already moist passage wet with their combined juices. She could hear Patrick groan as he, in a way, gave her another virginity. He gave her breasts a firm squeeze and her hands flew up to cover his own, keeping them pressed firmly against her chest. This was where he belonged, on her, in her, his breath hot against her neck as he claimed her as a stallion does a mare.

His medial ring slipped inside, dimpling her lips inward before it disappeared with a wet little sound. She could hear his hooves shuffle as his legs shifted closer to hers, and the mare felt a little orgasm wash over her at the sensation of his tip bottoming out inside of her and gently nudging against the barrier to her womb. As a centaur, Patrick stood a little taller than her, which meant his chest was resting comfortably on her rump, the thick base of his shaft stretching her out gloriously as he held himself tight against her. The mare could feel her pussy wink around him and heard him grunt as his shaft flexed inside her snug tunnel, a squirt of pre hitting her cervix as it did.

“Aaah, such a g-good boy!" Sylvia husked out, her voice still a little shaky. She knew she wanted this, but she only now realized just how much. This was a perfect moment, her lover sheathed inside her, embracing her even as her velvety passage embraced the stallion shaft throbbing and twitching inside it. And as tempting as it was to just stay like this and enjoy the closeness and intimacy of the moment, there was a more instinctive need demanding to be fulfilled.

“I'm yours now, sweetie…" she said without a trace of playful teasing in her tone “Now please, take me…" she husked in a voice laden with need and desire.

It was the tone of her voice that struck Patrick more than the words themselves, seeming to stir something deep inside him. He was aware of the love and affection Sylvia had for him, as well as sexual desire, but this was more than that. For the first time he felt like she wanted him as desperately as he had wanted her since running into her on that stairway. He gave her breasts another squeeze, burying his face in her golden mane as he slowly withdrew his shaft as far as he could from her needy sex, as the mare below him let out a shuddering sigh.

It was sweet agony to feel her son's cock slowly withdraw, leaving her feeling empty and wanting, but fortunately not for long. She gasped sharply as the rock-hard shaft was slowly pushed back in, reclaiming her and once again stretching her snugly around that mighty rod. Every time her pussy winked it wrapped even tighter around it, massaging itself as it rubbed over the steely length. The medial ring sent a little jolt of delight every time it slid across her sensitive little nub, and the mare blushed as the wet, lewd sounds of their coupling reached her ears.

Patrick brushed aside the centauress' hair, exposing her long alabaster neck before he lowered his lips to it, planting gentle kisses down its length and along Sylvia's collarbone. His hips seemed to move on their own, in a slow, instinctive rhythm as he rolled the mare's pillowy breasts in his hands, brushing his fingers over her stiff nipples. Every time he pushed himself inside her he could feel the tip of his shaft press against a barrier deep within the mare, a sensation that more than anything spurred him on and fanned the flames of his lust.

He knew it was the entrance to her womb, and couldn't shake some deep, instinctive need to press even harder against it, to fill her with every inch of his shaft before he sprayed his seed as deep inside her as he could. He was no longer concerned with pacing himself, or worried about looking inexperienced or inadequate in her eyes. Their bodies were now moving to a rhythm that was beyond their control, and neither of them knew or cared how long it would take.

The young centaur felt his bucks become more forceful, his muscles clenching as every thrust sent ripples along Sylvia's lush rear. They were both gasping for breath now, every intake of air carrying the scent of their rutting, which in turn served to make them more eager, more desperate for each other. The wet slurps were now barely audible over the loud slaps of equine flesh and the two could barely even hear that over the sounds of their heartbeats thumping in their ears.

Even though she felt her rear hooves almost leave the ground every time her rump was bounced up, Sylvia felt no pain, not even discomfort as her son's shaft filled her over and over. She was trapped in a blissful limbo, on the verge of climax where she knew she would remain indefinitely until her body got what it wanted. She was in heat, and now that she had a centaur male mounting her, she knew it didn't matter how long he kept rutting her – whether it was one minute, or one hour, she would get her release only when she felt his cock flare up and his seed flood her eager sex.

Patrick was huffing into Sylvia's neck as his hips worked frantically, barely pulling his shaft out before sheathing the whole thing back inside his mare's quivering sex. His forelegs were wrapped tight around her waist, pulling her rump back a little to meet every sharp buck. He could feel their combined juices trickling down the base of his shaft to drip from his sack, the heavy orbs swinging with every jackhammer thrust.

All of a sudden the deepest part of Sylvia's marehood became almost painfully tight just as the young stallion felt his pouch pull up against his body. It took him a split second to realize that Sylvia wasn't tightening up, but that his flare was getting bigger. Acting on instinct, he drove his shaft as deep inside as he could, his haunches remaining stock still as his fingers dug into the mare's soft breasts and he buried his face in her neck.

“AAaaah! Yes… as deep as you can! C'mon, baby, fuck me… breed me!" Sylvia husked as she gasped for breath, lust and desperation dripping from every word.

Patrick could feel his cum travel from his swollen orbs and along the length of that massive shaft, grunting out as he finally felt it erupt inside the quivering sex, his mare letting out a cry of joy he was sure could be heard through the entire forest. Her slit winked frantically around him, and Patrick no longer felt like he was filling her, but rather that he was being drained as Sylvia's cunny eagerly milked him of every drop of hot stallion seed he had.

Sylvia struggled to support the weight of two bodies on suddenly shaky legs as her climax hit her with full force. She could feel every hot, sticky spurt of her stallion's life-giving seed as that flared tip sealed off her passage, stretching her maddeningly as it forced the entire load into her waiting womb. A part of her knew she should be a little worried about that, since as a centaur it was quite likely that Patrick was even now planting a little foal inside her. But if there was any doubt or worry in her mind, it remained submerged beneath a sea of bliss and satisfaction that went deeper sex, deeper even than the warm wetness seeping further into her body.

She knew that even though it was her son that mounted her, it wouldn't be her son that climbed off her back. If his seed took, she'd be happy to bear his foal, and on the chance that it didn't she knew she'd let him cover her until it did. As the last of his seed filled her, the centauress knew there was nothing she would withhold from her mate…