FSE

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I drew in breath in great gasps. Partly it was due to the omnipresent heat, partly it was due to the booze I had just drunk. Some house special, it had almost removed the lining on my mouth. I would have to stay away from the candles burning in little glass holders around the bar.

I guess I should be used to new experiences. That was what I had come for after all.

It was the new craze, and I had been drawn like a moth to the flame, even flames as bright and beautiful as those surrounding the bar. And I wasn’t referring to the candles.

The media had tried to make out that our anthro ‘friends’ as they put it were really quite normal. Almost mainstream. Of course, they weren’t, and that was why I had had to come here for what I wanted, a bar on the edge of Anthrotown on the Northern fringe of the city. A no-mans-land between Us and Them, where it was possible to mix and to gape. A place to take a walk on the wild side.

Here I had come, and here I had stayed in spite of my better judgement. Even through the heat and the scents, because I knew deep inside this was what I wanted. At twenty-four I finally admitted to myself what I wanted.

Of course, I hadn’t actually done much yet. You can’t overcome a lifetime of cowardice in one session. I had stood at the bar, I had ordered a few drinks, and watched. A bar mostly full of anthros, and anthros of all species. They didn’t seem to mind the heat, or the stench, and they certainly didn’t mind the strong booze. All laughing, talking, enjoying. Most of the males at least had shed their tops in the unconditioned confines of the bar, something that caught me by surprise, though most seemed to have come in without them anyway. I sipped my drink this time, cringing a little at the acrid flavour and the burn that made my nose drip, and watched some more.

One caught my eye especially. A big horse man; equine, I think they liked to be called. He was based on some sort of heavy breed it seemed, with broad pectorals and shoulders and thighs like tree trunks. He had black and brown fur, with white fine hairs on his forearms and his…mane? His mane was white too. He had deep green eyes and ears that seemed to swivel like radar. He was wearing some sort of leather harness on top, like the Clydesdales in the beer commercials, though in place of their neck harness he had a collar, with shiny metal studs.

He also had short leather shorts that left very little to the imagination. The bulge in his groin made me stare, and swallow hard. There it was; what I wanted. What I craved.

It had started in school. Surfing the web, I graduated from casual everyday porn to more specialised versions. Gay first, of course. Then anthro…

My first sight of them burned in my brain. A canine, a wolf, fucking a big ram. The thick red cock disappearing into a tight ass, the screams, the animal noises. And then the knot. Oh fuck the knot.

My pucker gave a little twinge then, clenching reflexively, but the tingle inside was stronger. I would need some relief soon if I kept this up.

The stallion was talking to a tall bull without seeming to look at me, the two massive animals laughing like old friends and even sharing a chest bump and some playful wrestling. I watched the play of hefty muscles under their coats and sighed.

And yet the hairs on the back of my neck were prickling. I assumed it was due to the sweat building up there, and wiped it away, but the tingling remained.

My chest was tingling too, nipples rubbed raw against the fabric of my college rugby top. The poor unsuspecting garment was soaked in sweat, and it rasped against my skin uncomfortably, especialy my nipples. They had swollen ominously, whether due to the heat, the friction, or the room I couldn’t say. The last was probably the answer; the scent had been filling my head all night and making me dizzy.

A strong, pungent scent. Animal, like a barnyard, but more. Musk, sweat, and the unmistakable scent of raw male. Cum, ripe and deep.

I gulped down the rest of my drink, and almost choked on it. The barman, a stag wearing nothing but a t-shirt that was so transparent with sweat it seemed to accentuate his pecs, gave me a smile and a glass of water. He tried to pat my back but I waved him away, my head still thick with the scents and the feelings.

For some reason, perhaps to try and feel less confined, less overwhelmed, I pulled off my top and handed it to the barman like the rest of the guests did. He smiled wider this time, and put it in one of the cubbyholes behind the bar. It seemed odd having them there, and even odder when patrons came every now and then and asked for one when I hadn’t remembered them giving one over to the barman’s care. Maybe he got them wrong? There was no ticket system I could see like at a cloakroom.

Behind him, on the wall, was a blackboard. At the moment, it bore a single device, the number ‘42’in white chalk. I gestured to it and smiled.

“Don’t tell me; the answer to life, the universe and everything?”

He just shrugged and went back to washing glasses, but he gave me a long searching stare as he did it. I caught a glint in his eye.

Turning away from the bar, I wandered through the club, all the while feeling the prickling on my neck. My nips were red and puffy, swollen and needy. A droplet of sweat had caught on my left nip, and I brushed at it carelessly, the sensation drawing a gasp from my mouth. An electric current that went through me and right to my cock.

I also heard a noise then, some sort of animal noise like a high pitched laugh. I looked back to the bar where it seemed to have come from, and noticed the stallion. He was in animated conversation with the barman, and he was holding my rugby top. As I watched, I saw him bring it to his snout and inhale deeply, his ears twitching and tail swishing. The sight made me stop in mid step, horrified, aroused, curious. He dropped the top on the bar and went to turn, and I panicked, smacking into a wall. I just knew I didn’t want him to see me seeing him, and the expression on my face. I found what I was looking for, a doorway leading to the bathroom, and took it in a daze, seeking a space to gather my thoughts.

Alas I was not to be so lucky.

Standing at one of the oversize urinals, I held my cock. It was hard, the touch on my nipple finally pushing it from semi to full on hard. Willing it to go down, I waited, eyes closed, trying not to think of what I was feeling, when I heard the sound of footsteps…or not. A loud clacking on the concrete. Hoofsteps.

One eye opened slowly, fearfully, needfully. He was there, my stallion, at the next urinal. He was looking straight ahead, the wall decorated with pictures, photographs mainly, and I looked at some of them myself before I dropped my eyes again and blushed. All seemed to be taken in this bathroom, and all seemed to involve couples copulating wildly without a care in the world.

I heard the zip like it was next to my ear, opening wide. Then the sound of grunts and fiddling with fabric. Then a satisfied sigh.

I couldn’t not look. I couldn’t.

He had his hand in front of his groin. A massive pair of nuts, encased in black leathery skin, surmounted by a fat sheath poked from the opening in his shorts. As I watched, the reason for his hand placement became obvious; first his sheath seemed to wiggle, then a pink thick object appeared at the dark opening, followed in short order by the longest cock I had ever seen. Black towards the base, pink at the tip, mottled in between. It had some sort of thick ridge of skin half way down, a slight taper towards the top, then a wide spread head and a huge piss hole.

He gripped it as it seemed to sway in the air, lining it up with the urinal, and he unloaded a long copious stream of urine that tinkled like the outpouring of a waterfall. I watched spellbound as he emptied his bladder, almost whimpering as the stream finished, but he wasn’t finished it seemed. He held his cock casually and began to stroke, long slow strokes, from the base up to just under his tip, and the wide ring of skin there spread wider and the impossibly huge nuts danced for my delight.

“You enjoying the show human?”

I almost bolted at the sound. Deep, rumbling like an earthquake. He was looking at me, stunned, my hand somehow on my own cock. I realised I had been stroking too, my tip leaking precum. I blushed and tried to stammer an answer but none came.

“So small your kind, but pretty. And the scent…so different.”

He opened his nostrils wide and sucked in air like a perverted vacuum cleaner. He seemed to almost taste every scent, eyes gleaming, and his smile became a leer.

“And though you aren’t a mare, I can tell you are in heat…”

“N…no…no…”

He shook his head and laughed, hand sliding down the length of his organ. A single droplet of clear pre formed at the tip, and tried to detatch but instead fell to earth in one long string. I watched it fall, entranced.

“Do you want to touch it human?”

“No! No…I…”

I was blushing still. He seemed to see right through me.

“Oh you do human. I know it. I smelt it on your clothes…the scent of mare. I smell it now. I can see your puny little cocklet human…can’t you?”

I looked down, and saw he was right. My own cock tried to match his effort, pumping out precum in a stream. Enough to coat my scrotum in slick shame, glistening in the low light of the bathroom.

“That thing you do with your face. So sweet…bare skin has amazing possibilities.”

His finger brushed my cheek, right where it burned, and I whimpered. He seized my hand, and drew it towards him without any fight on my part.

Oh God it felt so huge, so hot, so alive. I could barely wrap my hand around his cock, and as I felt it there it jerked and almost wrenched itself from my hand.

“Feel the flare human…”

I was unfamiliar with the term, but his eyes bored into mine and I tried to comply. I gripped lower, around the ridge of skin, but he stomped a hoof and glared and I got the message. The tip, that wide ridge of skin. It pulsed now, and I clasped it, feeling the heat and the slickness of his pre. He let out a horsey noise then and bucked his hips, driving his length into my hand.

“Good…..good….”

I heard the door open and hooves on the concrete but didn’t stop. There was a laugh, and an answering noise from my stallion. It seemed this was normal.

“Go on human…play…it’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”

Yes. For so long.

I gripped him tighter, he seemed to like that. From a distance I heard sighs, and then a click and saw a slight flash. I closed my eyes, imagining another addition to the photowall. I hoped I didn’t look too ridiculous.

My surprised gasp was loud, louder than the stallions grunts, and I opened my eyes again at the touch. He had taken my cock in one big callused hand, the form unfamiliar yet familiar. Three fingers, thumb, all tipped with rough little hoof-like ridges. The grip was gentle though, gentle if insistent. He found my foreskin and began the familiar motion of my youth, exposing the head and covering again, my pleasure building.

“And this…what is it for? Do you feel the need to cover something so small in your embarrassment?”

His fingertips cupped my cockhead now, rubbing, the rasp of hoof on skin too much. I screamed, and tried to pull away, but he reached out with his other hand and held me there powerless. He also changed his grip though, I gave him that. Using his palm now, slick with my pre, over the head and down the shaft. I followed his lead, on his immeasurably bigger organ, feeling him twitch in pleasure.

“Oh yes colt…very good…you are learning…”

I felt so warm from that comment. The tingle in my heart matched the tingle growing in my ass. I sped up, wanting his approval almost as much as his orgasm.

When he cupped my balls though, and began to squeeze gently, I could not contain myself. It was a kink of mine, perfection in touch. His jacking became more urgent, and his fingers slid behind my scrotum and rubbed my taint. I almost lost my footing, and I did let go of his cock. It swayed angrily before his groin, the flare pulsing, piss hole wide and dripping, and that was what held my gaze when I came, my spunk coating his hand in a long many spurting offering to his kind.

He gave a snort and tossed his mane.

“Bad colt…I didn’t give you permission…”

Dazed, I didn’t know what was coming and could not have fought it off if I wanted anyway. He grabbed me by the arm and hustled me bodily into a cubicle. He didn’t close the door though, and I wondered what he wanted. It certainly wasn’t privacy. I learned soon enough.

He gripped my jeans by the waist and tore them off me. Fabric rent with a scream, and he threw them away with contempt. I whimpered but stood, but not for long. He reached for my legs and lifted me bodily, pushing me against the partition. I was jammed between a rock and a hard place, between the unforgiving panelling and the hard flintlike chest of the stallion. My legs crossed behind his thighs, his tail swishing against my feet. He fumbled with my shoes, and they dropped to the floor to join the remains of my pants.

I had no underwear of course. Part of the thrill of going out seeking release, seeking something was the thought of them finding me with nothing on under my jeans. The stallion noticed allright.

“See…in heat, like a mare…”

Before I could reply I felt lips on mine and suddenly the taste and scent of horse filled my mouth. His tongue invaded, deep, piteously, into my throat. I could not breathe. I did not want to breathe.

I screamed into his muzzle, never interrupting the kiss. Hands had found my ass now, and two of the thickest fingers I had known invaded my poor rectum in one thrust. They were slick, thankfully, and I realised he was using my own cum to ease the passage. As I relaxed, still shaking from the penetration, my body responded, ass spreading, skin of my tunnel stretching, my tingle turning to a raging fire. Then he touched my prostate. I moaned.

“Good colt…tighter than our own but you respond the same. I wonder…”

Fingers dug into my nut now, rubbing, caressing. I moaned again, and begged, so close. So close.

His withdrawal was as fast as his penetration, and I cried out as my ring tried to snap shut and at the deep emptiness I felt missing his fingers. Not for long though.

There was something new there, something massive, something hot, something hard. He broke the kiss, pressing his lips to mine but not kissing, and his eyes watched mine.

“Breathe colt…”

I tried. Mostly I screamed. He used his leverage, my body crushed against the partition, his hands now on my ass cheeks lowering me onto his insistent length. He also used his hips to buck up into me. It wouldn’t go, and I felt pain, then it did and I felt worse. My poor hole spread, stretched beyond its limits. I felt tearing, and the passage of heat and muscle, and then he stopped and waited.

I opened my eyes and he was still looking into mine.

“I said breathe…”

I did, and he dropped me a fraction of an inch further down his length. I reached up to grip the top of the wall, bracing myself, and he kissed me then, my lips tasting horse once more. And he gave me another inch.

The entry was painful, long, and brutal. It was also incredibly erotic. I screamed one more time, when the thick ridge of skin halfway down his cock spread my poor red raw ring even wider, and then I felt it rasp down the length of my tunnel leaving incredible sensations all the way inside.

His nuts touched my cheeks finally, and I knew he was hilted. One hand under my ass, one on mine, he fucked me against the wall. I moaned. I farted. I begged.

The rub of his flare was too much. I came, fountaining into the space between us. He kept on fucking, his eyes now scrunched tight, his mane flopping over his face, his muscles bunching and relaxing as he used me. I begged him to finish, and still he rode me, a little harder, a little faster, as my cock flopped against his belly and the rub of fur on cockhead drove me as mad as the plunge of his flare into my guts.

When I came again, at last, and almost painfully, it triggered his end too. He let out a wild whinny, a scream of his own, ears out wide, nostrils flared, and I felt a gush deep inside. It went on and on, painting my hole in stallion, the heat searing me as much as his penetration. I could feel it dripping from my wrecked opening around his cock and couldn’t imagine how much more was trapped in there.

I didn’t have to wait long to find out. He lifted me off his cock, the slick sounds obscene as it slid from my guts followed by a torrent of horse cum. Droplets fell to the floor and defiled the remains of my jeans if that were even possible.

“Nice work pet…how was he?”

I turned to see another. A wolf, with black fur, shining incisors, thick muscles and a ring through each nipple. He was leaning on the doorway to our cubicle, casually, with one hand swinging something in slow circles.

“Like a mare in heat master. Tighter than any colt, but he came like a colt in the end. I’ve broken him in nicely for you, might even be able to take your knot.”

Oh God, the knot…

They shared a kiss, before the stallion let me drop from his grasp to the floor. My legs couldn’t hold me up, and I fell forward on hands and knees. I felt something round my neck, something tight, and as the wolf adjusted it I recognised the feel of leather.

“Have to earn that collar pup.”

I did, the stallion holding me for his master, my body between theirs standing upright, the wolf jerking his hips to drive a thick red cock into me just like I remembered from the first anthro porn I ever saw. And then it happened and my scream was lost in a wolf kiss as incisors bit into my lips and the knot spread me so wide I almost fainted, and yet it also drew a final gush of cum from my aching balls.

They hauled me out through the bar to cheers and animal sounds, howls, whinnies, bellows, meowls. I had just enough consciousness left to see the stag behind the bar shaking his head with a smile as he wiped off the number ‘2’ from the chalk board behind him and replaced it with a delicately drawn ‘3’.