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To get some background on the setting (and because it's also an awesome story) you might want to read Mounted Courier before this one.

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“Escort? Since when does the Guild act as escorts?" came the question from a woman obviously not enthused by the idea.

“Very rarely, and only when it's vital to our business." Replied Diane, calmly and patiently. It didn't catch on.

“Are you… for fuck's sake Diane, I know for a fact you still go on the occasional Long Ride. You know what that's like and how welcome a third wheel would be on a trip like that!" Kyra said, hoping to talk some sense into the woman she knew for a fact was more sensible than her.

“I know, and I know it will be an intrusion on a relationship we all hold dear to have anyone else tagging along but…"

“Forget the bond, and the lack of privacy we kind of expect to have while trudging through a landscape nobody wants to spend a minute longer than they have to…" the young woman interrupted, referring to the fact that even though they are often quite pleasant, the territories the Couriers' Guild operates in are home to the most dangerous predators in existence. “You know that we can't take any guests through the Corridor! And with an unshielded mind tagging along we'll be fucked right along with the poor bugger tagging along and attracting every hungry beast out there!"

“No one's going to get 'fucked'…" Diane began.

“You can say that again…" Kyra tossed out in a huff. She and her mount - like the vast majority of the Guild's members - took advantage of the lack of prying eyes on the long and lonesome roads they traveled along. Fat chance of that happening with some tourist around!

“…because the person riding along with you will be an Adept." She said.

“What kind of Adept?" Kyra asked suspiciously. The term referred to people like herself and Diane and the rest of the women in the Guild, but also others who formed a mental bond with the intelligent counterparts of more common animals. The Couriers were the best known but they were not alone, although she didn't realize why an Adept would be coming alone and leaving behind their bond-mate. She also had the sneaking suspicion that the ever patient mistress of this particular Guildhall hadn't revealed the worst part of her new assignment.

“A full psychic, actually." Diane said, calmly bracing for the outburst.

“One of those freaks!? Why in the world would you…" Kyra cried out, almost jumping out of her chair in undisguised shock and annoyance.

“Now before you say anything, need I remind you of the stigma attached to women like us?" the guildmistress said, with some small hope the reminder would calm Kyra's outrage.

“Yeah, I know what they say about us. And I know who does the talking – uptight cunts and nosy pricks. The two tend to marry and so they are in no short supply. And they don't even bad-mouth us because what we've got going on in here…" she said, taping a finger to her forehead “…but rather what goes in…"

“I understand what you mean…" Diane interrupted. Kyra was an excellent Courier and was known for being outspoken, so she knew to expect salty language, but she hoped to avoid any unseemly visual aids. Fortunately the young woman's gesticulating hand never got lower than her waist…

“Everybody knows they're creeps! Even other Adepts! Hell, I don't think Manx would be any more thrilled than I am to learn about who's coming along…"

“And you can be sure I'll have the same conversation with him…" Diane explained, omitting the fact that she was feeling more confident about that confrontation. The stallion was more level-headed than his rider, but Kyra was more than capable of being stubborn enough for the two of them, which was why she'd decided to talk to each of them separately.

“I mean… you know what the Long Ride's like. Bad enough having to worry about the diverse fauna on the hunt for anything – humans and steeds included- without having to worry about some freak-brained bitch snooping around in…"

“It's a male, actually…"

“Oh my… that's even worse!" Kyra exclaimed, although Diane was sure she was just riding out the outrage-induced adrenaline high and would have reacted the same way if the passenger had been revealed to be female. “You know full well what men say about us, especially when out of earshot of their wives! And now I'm going to have one that can burrow into my brain riding along… wait a minute – he can't ride a feral horse because that would give us away, so how are you going to…"

“Stiro is a very … svelte young man, maybe even a little lighter than you are. I'm sure a steed as strong and experienced as Manx will have no trouble carrying…"

“Both of us!? How… are you… I can't even…" the young woman stuttered in wide-eyed shock while Diane tried to keep the corners of her mouth from rising. She knew that if she let Kyra have her reign she'd get outraged enough to shock herself into silence. An Opportunity the guildmistress wasn't about to waste.

“Kyra, you know that our routes go to the very edge of the frontier of civilization. Well they've found silver out in the Pinebrush Mountains and the deeper they dig the more of it there seems to be. The mountains are beyond the frontier but those mines are too valuable to pass up so the frontier will be pushed forward. Caravans will have to move back and forth…" she said, reminding the younger woman of the people who traveled the same roads she did without the benefit of the Corridor that kept steed and courier invisible to the psychic predators who have no fear even of heavily armed humans.

“They've obviously been doing that already. The miners didn't fly to the mountains, did they? So you have your road…"

“A sketchy one at the start and now looking unsafe. The men who went out there are hard and quite frankly desperate for a chance to make something of their lives. They can do better out there than scratching coal out of rock. There's only mining camp out there but if we can get a relatively safe route mapped out they'll want to bring their women over there. Children too, if they have any…"

“Well if they don't they'll soon solve that problem once their women join them. Can't imagine there's bugger all to do up there…" Kyra said sullenly.

“Well put, if a little colorful. And while these men are fine with living in tents and shacks their wives aren't nor would they expect them to. They'll build houses and a town will spring up out there, small but bustling, provided they have a courier route. Kyra, you've been with the Guild for years now. You know it's out duty to help spread humanity into the wildlands, but to be quite blunt it's also our livelihood. The Guild can't turn this down, and I'm asking you to live up to the confidence I have in your abilities to do this…" she finished.

“I'll want to meet him first." Kyra replied after a short and sullen silence.

“Of course."

“That doesn't mean I agreed to anything!"

“I understand completely." Diane assured her as she got up from behind her desk. Give the horse his head, and once he tires himself out he won't fight you when you reign him in. She'd heard the advice espoused by many experienced riders and stable-hands, even though you could never try anything like that with a sentient steed. They would recognize the attempt and resent you treating them like a common horse. Humans, on the other hand, don't expect to be treated like a horse, so Diane has used the technique on her couriers to good effect for years…

*******

“I still can't believe she talked you into this…" Kyra remarked, running the brush along her steed's fur, even though she didn't really need to. She'd already brushed the sleek inky coat and was now practically polishing it to a high gloss, but it always served to calm her to run a brush along Manx's powerful form, whereas running her bare hands over it tended to have the opposite effect.

“Well how would it have looked like if I'd protested after you'd agreed? You're the stubborn one, after all…" the stallion replied, a rich masculine tone well-peppered with humor sounding in Kyra's mind even though no sound left the equine muzzle.

“Well now you'll get to find out if your back is as strong as my will…" the woman replied with a smirk, making a point to pat the straight, muscular back of the dark stallion. “Seriously though, will you be fine with another rider?"

“Diane assured me the scout's a lightweight. You know she wouldn't have asked us to do this if she thought either of us couldn't handle it. Besides, you have no idea how strong I really am…" the steed boasted, emphasizing his point by pawing the earth and snorting.

“What, even after last night?" Kyra purred, walking up to the stallion's head and pitching her voice in a more intimate tone. “It's a wonder I can even ride out…"

“And which one of us was on top?" the stallion asked in a wry tone.

“Okay, I'll give you that…" Kyra replied, ceding the point.

Manx was a magnificent beast and the shimmering black coat did little to hide the swell and flex of his muscles, the flawless posture and the measured gait. Nobody could see him and imagine such a creature pulling either a carriage or a plow. To look at him was to imagine a thunderous gallop, the black mane trailing behind him like a grim banner as wind whipped past and hooves struck the ground. Truly, riding on the back of such a creature would be a rare privilege.

And as much as Kyra enjoyed it, she preferred to have her steed on his back when she rode him. They'd been bonded for years now, and even though she enjoyed getting under him and doing her best to be a mare for her stallion, she knew full well that her four-legged lover always kept himself reigned in, even though he'd never wore reigns in his entire life. He was sensitive and sensible and never forgot the limitations of a human body compared to what a rutting stallion could provide in terms of size and force. Kyra doubted he'd seriously hurt her – a strong enough pain would travel through the Bond, after all- but she also knew that she could only brace herself so much and didn't want to end up pushed off the equine erection only to land with her face in the dirt and her rear in the air.

So on those occasions when it was Manx on top of her, they made love. But on those occasions when she had the stallion on his back, she was in charge and she always fucked her beloved steed to the very limits of their bodies. True, the alchemical serum she'd 'imbibed' after her first Long Ride had given her human sex the elasticity it took to envelop a stallion's pride and joy with nothing but delight and a sense of fullness that went beyond words, but just because she took what a mare could didn't mean she could take it the same way a mare did.

So while Manx took mercy on her, she took none on either of them. She pushed her body to the limits, often enduring a little pain for the wild passion and the mind-shattering climaxes the occasional twinge couldn't overshadow. She laid a hand on her belly, the bare expanse of skin that ran from her beltline to the leather vest laced tight around her generous chest. Her fingertips brushed against a flat expanse of smooth caramel-colored skin that was disappointingly flat. Whenever she took Manx inside her the trim belly would distend just a little, and when the stallion climaxed the flare of his massive member would form a noticeable bulge. While her lover spent himself inside her, Kyra would always rub a hand across that swelling with the joy and satisfaction of an expecting mother. It was only the feeling of a stallion's load rushing into her that could quench the fires that drove her to ride the reclining stud with a wild abandon that went beyond what most would call passion.

And she had to admit she was a bit tender this morning but she knew that she'd relish the slight soreness as she rode on her lover's back. It would be a reminder of a wild night, something to be treasured now that they were unlikely to have any such encounters during the ride. Her brow creased once again at this arrangement. The private time between a courier and her steed was practically sacred, although given how the time was spent most theologians would hesitate to agree. Now they'd be too busy trying to stop some creep from sniffing around in their brains…

"Huh, looks like our passenger is here..." Manx remarked, gesturing with his muzzle over Kyra's shoulder.

"All right, I guess it's time to start being nice to the frea..." she muttered, but stopped short at the sight of the figure walking beside Diane.

The Guildmistress had pointed out that the psychic was light of build and that had been enough for Kyra to build a mental image of a stick-thin, sickly looking gremlin of a man. Neither of those labels really fit their soon to be companion, including the label of 'man'. If she hadn't been told the brain-poker was male she would have paused to judge for herself. His hair was the color of sun-bleached straw, a little too long for most males but short for a woman. His complexion was as fair as his hair, his eyes large and peculiar pale-blue shade. Combined with a small nose and a generous mouth, it was only the subtle set of jaw and cheekbones that gave an impression of masculinity. She was right in expecting someone with a freakish appearance, but she knew that if she was more kindly disposed towards the passenger practically forced upon her she'd have used the phrase 'striking' to describe his appearance.

"And here they are... Kyra, Manx, say hello to Stiro, your scout for this journey." the guildmistress said, and the fay male gave the two of them what was either a long nod or a short bow.

"Nice to meet you..." she said, extending a hand and trying not to smile as the young man in front of her reached out to shake it. She took some pleasure in the expression on the elfin face twisting as she squeezed good and hard. Fair skin, soft hands... so this is a scout?

“Yeah, I'm sure…" she said, looking past his shoulder at a hefty pack laying on the ground.

“I'm sure you three will be like old friends by the time you get back…" Diane said, giving Kyra a look that told her she hadn't missed the off-handed way she'd response to her new companion's greeting. “I've been over your route with both of you, but here's a map just in case. You only need to go as far as the foothills of the Pinebrush Mountains. The trip there will be risky, but you'll have a safe route worked out once you get there, so the trip back should be a cake-walk. Stiro, I know Kyra looks young but she's been with the guild for years and she's ridden some of our trickiest routes, so I'm sure I'm leaving you in good hands." She said, and Kyra didn't miss the way she was looking at her. Which was why she made sure to wait until the woman was out of earshot before turning her attention to the awkward young man waiting for her to acknowledge his existence.

“All right, now let's see what you've packed here… okay, first thing to go are the changes of clothes…" she said, tossing things out of the neatly packed travel bag while the stunned scout tried to protest.

“But at least the…"

“I'm not packing anything else either. Are you seriously telling me you need to travel with a bigger wardrobe than a woman? Thought so. Now let's see here… cup, plate, bowl… how many dishes did you bring? No, don't even answer that. You can keep one bowl and a spoon, but don't expect to get a lot of use out of those. Hope you like trailbread, by the way…" she said.

The Guild's trailbread was one among many, but the recipe was still a closely guarded secret. The dense mass included not only flour but dried fruits, seeds and crushed nuts, the loves stretched until they were no thicker than a slender wrist and just under a foot in length. If kept reasonably dry it wouldn't go moldy but it did dry out and become hard enough that after a few days it had to be soaked in water before eating, motivating couriers to learn some basic foraging skills.

“Wha… what is this?" Kyra asked, pulling a volume bound in soft leather and holding it with the distasteful expression of some holding a dead squirrel by the tail.

“I… I thought I might catch up on my reading while we're resting. I…" he stammered, but fell silent when the book fell to the ground, dropped by the blunt woman who'd never taken her eyes off his. The 'inspection' continued and by the time Kyra was done half of what had been in the shocked young man's pack was now all over the ground.

“Don't look at me like that! Someone will be along to pick this stuff up and it will all be waiting for you when you get back." She said, slipping a much smaller pack into one of Manx's saddlebags. “Now, how good would you say you are on horseback?"

“I'm… I guess I…" the young man stammered, still reeling from the way Kyra had culled his baggage.

“Yeah, that's what I thought. You'll get the saddle then and I'll ride behind you. Go on, get up and let's get going…" she said, the still confused scout awkwardly eyeing the so far silent steed. “What? You can ride a horse, can't you? Or at least mount one?"

“I yes but this saddle doesn't have a horn so I'm not sure how… maybe there's a stool nearby that we could sort of… and then I could just…" he said, voice fading to bashful silence as Kyra stared at him in disbelief.

“Listen, this isn't one of those big saddles for lard-assed drunk gentlemen to ride on while they go out on a hunt for something small enough for a dog to kill and fetch. Just plant your hands on his withers, haul yourself up while swinging one leg over and plant that scrawny ass down on the leather." She explained, and then rolled her eyes at Stiro's fairly awkward attempts to do what she told him to.

“For fuck's sake…" she grumbled, before pushing the youth aside and standing next to Manx with her fingers laced together. “Stick your foot in there and try not to fall over, will you?"

“Uhh, thanks. Sorry…" the pale male said awkwardly, but with the boost he did manage to find his seat. The runt weighs next to nothing. Hell, if I'd know I'd have thrown him up there myself… Kyra mused, and to her shock found the creep holding his hand out, like she needed his help to get up on Manx. “Better put that on the pommel. I don't want to get blamed if you fall off..." she said, slapping away the hand of the confused young man and walking up behind the black stallion.

“Been a while since you tried that…" Manx said in a way both humans could 'hear'.

“What do you mean 'tried'? Have I ever failed?"

“F-failed what?" Stiro asked, completely confused.

“Never you mind, just hold on tight…" Kyra said, and to the youth's shock she went into a run.

Kyra kept her eyes on the glossy equine behind, leaping at just the right moment for her hands to reach it when she was at her zenith. She planted her palms on the glossy black rump just in time to angle her flight a little higher, legs splayed as her momentum carried her over Manx's haunches and straight into the little freak who just barely kept his seat as she crashed chest-first into him.

“See? Flawless!" she said, hands planted on her hips. Which was likely where they would stay, since the alternative would be to wrap them around the wispy waif of a male in front of her. But she knew for a fact she didn't need to hold on to anything to keep her seat on a horse's back, especially on Manx's. And the little freak was shorter than she was which meant she could see clear over the top of his head, which would make it easy to visualize the Corridor. “You okay with the extra weight Manx?"

“Barely even notice it…" the steed replied cockily.

“All right, then prove it. The sooner we're away the sooner this will be over it." She said, habitually summoning up the vision of interwoven vines spaced out along the road, even though they still didn't need the safety of the corridor.

She only realized just how much excitement she felt when riding out with her steed now that it had been sucked away by the unwelcome addition of this frail freak in front of her. Most people would be surprised she felt any joy from the prospect of a ride that was lonely at best and mortally dangerous at worst. But when it was just her and Manx out there she didn't care if everything else was against them. Riding with someone else was bad enough, and riding with a creepy little psychic was worse, but she knew that the unwelcome guest would be a real pain in the ass during those hours when they stopped to rest.

*******

“And that's it? That chicken-scratch will make a difference?" Kyra said in a bored tone, peeking over Stiro's shoulder to look at what he was scribbling in the little leather-bound logbook.

“It's… yes? I can sense various predators out there, but so far nothing bad enough to force us to leave the road. Still, I have to record what I sensed and where so that the… so that Voryag hunters can be sent out, if needed."

“The wolf-people? I've heard about them. Tough, fierce and damn-near fearless. Haven't met any though…" she said, her mind straying to the insular communities of men and women all bonded to sentient lupines the way the woman of the guild were to steeds. Wonder if they bond just as closely… she thought idly, feeling the notion conjure images which made her a bit fidgety. It's only our first day! By the time we're back and free of this pipsqueak I'll probably end up rubbing myself on Manx's back so hard he'll have a bald-spot!

“Uhh, yes… still, we're safe enough. I can tell nothing's spotting us through this corridor thing. It really is quite amazing…"

“You know about it?" Manx asked.

“Well I've been told how it works, generally. And I can't see it, of course, but I can tell you both believe we're passing through something every now and then…"

“Oh, you can tell, can you?" Kyra asked, and her tone was devoid of the polite interest the stallion's speech had carried. “Well let me tell you something – keep your mind on what's out there and not in my head or Manx's!"

“I wasn't…"

“Good, just so we're clear." She said, a terse tone that shut the mouth awkward young man.

“Go a little easier on him. We'll be out here a while and it will seem twice as long if we're all this tense…" came a voice she knew was placed in her mind alone. At least the twerp in front of her gave no sign that he'd heard the stallion under them. Kyra couldn't project words the way a steed could, but she and Manx had been bonded for some time and she knew that if she concentrated hard enough she could send an idea back if she wanted to. It wasn't as easy as talking was, but it was hopefully more private. The notion she was straining to transmit was her outrage, and Manx seemed to catch the gist of it.

“And if he does something I'll let you do whatever you want to him. But give him the benefit of the doubt, huh?"

Reluctantly Kyra took her steeds advice and kept quiet throughout the rest of the afternoon. Manx wasn't kidding when he said he could easily carry the two of them, and she was surprised that by evening they'd managed to reach one of the rest-stops the Guild had built along the route. It wasn't much – three walls of woven wattle with a peeked tarpaulin roof – but there was some left-over firewood and someone had re-filled the water barrel recently. She dismounted the dark stallion and told their tag-along to do the same. Meanwhile she fished out a stoppered flask and quickly dropped little dabs of the alchemical compound popularly known as 'scentry' – the stuff that would mask a small circle and its inhabitants from hunters relying on unconventional senses.

"Ow!"

"Tread on something?" Kyra asked, deftly striping both saddle and bags form her steed.

"No, it's just that... I've never ridden for this long. Things are kinda... sore."

"Thought you said this wasn't your first time scouting?"

"It isn't, but I've been along on caravans. Riding in a cart..." Stiro said, wincing as he tried to stretch and failed.

"Figures... All right, lay down here, face down." She said, rolling out a blanket and laying at across the overgrown weeds and grasses. They'll move under the waterproof roof before going to bed, but the evening was too pleasant so far to spend it cramped together in the stall-like hut. The pale young man did as he was told, so Kyra figured she might as well take Manx's advice and try and be civil. Which for now meant grinding her knuckles into the small of the scout's back.

“Oohh! You really don't need to bo-ngraAahh!-ther…" Stiro said, making strange noises whenever Kyra really leaned into her work.

“Believe me, I do. And this might feel uncomfortable now, but without it by morning you'd be wincing with every step Manx took for the next two or three days. So just try to relax while I set your back straight…"

The twerp was obedient at least and apart from funny noises, twitches and winces offered no protestation. Maybe he knows there's no point. I could handle this little city-waif even without Manx around. She mused as her hands worked diligently and mercilessly on the petite male under her. No need to fear for my virtue while I sleep she thought. Then again whatever this slip of a thing had between his legs might be able to get the job done without waking her up. The notion of fair little Stiro mounting her and having his way with her while she snored peacefully was so comical that she had to stifle a laugh, managing to change it into a snort she hoped would be blamed on Manx.

“That's… that's your back done. Now flip over."

“Sure. Uhh, since I can reach maybe you could just show me where…" the young man stammered.

“Quicker just to do it, so just watch and learn if you wan…" she said, but stopped dead when she laid her hand on one of his thighs. His pants were looser than hers, so she couldn't really see anything but she felt… she felt something that should have been a lot higher up. She just froze for a moment, genuinely puzzled, but when she lifted her gaze and saw the furiously blushing face of the scout she took her hand away as if she'd touched hot iron.

“On second thought, I need to get Manx brushed down. Just, uh… just rug from the knees up and try to put as much pressure on any knots you find." She said, trying not to look the youth in his eyes.

“I'll… I'll do that! Thank you…" he said and mercifully left it at that.

Well, understandable, I suppose. He spent all day with my chest pressed against his back. she thought to herself, but any amorous reactions still didn't explain why she'd felt what she'd felt so close to the slender male's knee. That thing would definitely wake me up…

*******

"Okay, now remember to keep quiet..." Kyra husked into one long ear, a sensuous rustle that had the stallion's nostrils flaring in spite of his bemused attitude.

"You're the one telling me this?" he asked wryly, pointing one big brown eye at the deft fingers running through the laces of the lustful female's leather vest.

"Don't worry, I intend to 'muffle' myself by the time I get to excited..." the dusky woman insisted, shrugging off the garment to reveal two ripe mounds, the skin covering them paler than the rich copper of the flesh she kept exposed most of the time.

The size and pear-like shape of them was enough for Manx to feel a surge run through his body and end in the rapidly dropping shaft. A mare's teats were pretty enough but he had to admit they couldn't compare to what human females boasted in terms of mammaries. Instead of two pert mounds hidden away between her legs, Kyra had a chest that couldn't help but trap the eyes. The flawless, pale skin made them stand out, drawing the gaze to the way they curved at the bottom, a hint of the weight of each perfect mound. It was the sort of sight that made a male wish for hands, since it would be a sacrilege to lay hooves on the mouthwatering globes, even though he wasn't entirely sure Kyra would mind. But he still had ways to enjoy the treats on offer.

He took another moment to appreciate the sight of the dark areolae contracting, wrinkling just a little as Kyra's nipples stiffened and jutted out. With eyes on either side of his head he couldn't focus on her bust while enjoying it, but he had other senses that could compensate. He pushed his muzzle almost but not quite close enough to touch the rising and falling bosom, his ears filled with the sound of Kyra breathing heavily into the silent night. He let out a snort, figuring it was a common and innocent enough equine noise, forcing the woman posing in front of him to bite her lip, stifling a an anxious cry as hot breath washed over the bared skin, goose-pimples rising in response all over the heaving bust. She arched her back and pushed out just a little, not enough to touch but enough that Manx could feel every warm exhale bouncing off feminine flesh, carrying with it the scent of his human lover.

If they had more time he'd consider teasing her, knowing that even though it frustrated her to no end it always wound up making things much more intense a little later on in the evening. Instead he just dove in, pushing his muzzle into her cleavage, flicking his ears against the soft sigh Kyra heaved before wrapping her arms (and by extension her breasts) around his head. He could feel the beat of her heart against his muzzle, engulfed entirely by the sweet scent of a woman as eager to mate as any mare in heat. When he'd first heard that human women have their fertile periods every single month he was sure it was rumor, but bonding with Kyra made him rethink that. She was a lover so wildly passionate that he could believe that the fires that burned hot enough to forge a new life kindled within her with every new moon.

As he kissed and nuzzled the feminine flesh engulfing his muzzle he wondered if the urge would eventually drive her to seek a male of her own species for a night or two, long enough to make her an expecting mother. But so far she insisted she was happy with 'trying for a foal' and with her fingers twining into his mane and her soft coos filling his ears, Manx had no trouble believing her sincerity.

With some reluctance the stallion pulled himself just barely from his wanton rider's cleavage, moving to the left and taking a firm, heaving breast into his mouth. A shaky gasp sounded above before Kyra stifled herself, pushing his head against her chest as Manx took almost the entire mound into his mouth. Once he was sure she had a grip on herself as secure as the one she had on his mane, he began bathing the breast with his tongue, sucking the plaint mound into his mouth only to dimple it in on every lick. He lavished his attentions on the captive globe for a minute or so before releasing the now glistening breast and moving on to the next one. When he was done with that he'd almost went back to the first before Kyra pulled away, the tongue-bathed bosom rising and falling with each heavy breath.

"You know I'd let you... but the sooner we're done..." she panted before plating a kiss on his muzzle.

"What did you have in mind?" he asked, feeling his shaft flex under him.

"Lie on your back and I'll show you..." the blushing female almost purred out, the lustful enthusiasm in her voice keeping Manx from reprimanding her for being just a little too loud for comfort.

Kyra had been wondering if she should have been quieter, but it was getting hard to tell the volume of her voice with her heart pounding in her ears. She took in the sight of Manx as he laid down and then rolled over, as best she could. One would think that this far from the fire a black horse in the dead of night would have been invisible, but she kept his coat pristine and even trace amounts of light seemed to flow along it. The part of Manx facing the flames was bathed in warmth as if parts of him were covered in molten amber, while the other side reflected moonlight and looked deceptively cold - like some strange dark metal polished to a high sheen. A true trick of the light, since Kyra could feel heat radiating from the stallion's powerful body as surely as it did from the fire, especially from that part of him not covered in insulating fur.

Admiring the play of light on the already hard black spire, Kyra planted one leg on either side of the prone stallion's head, stopping her feet against the dew-damp grass in a parody of a mare's hooves but with literally a fraction of the impact. It was strong enough to shake a drop off her now parted folds, and judging by the way the inky length flexed and jumped, she was sure the droplet had struck home! Spreading her legs she both opened herself up for the stallion she was sure was admiring the view as well as putting the part that surely held his attention within reach. She knew his head was rising to meet her sex when she felt the puff of his breath against soaked skin, an exhalation that sent tremors and goose pimples racing along her toned legs.

Part of it insisted she just let the limbs give way. Her lover was strong enough to survive her falling cunny-first on his face, and would likely not protest if she did so without even a feigned 'Oops!'. But he was good at this, a testament to the adage that practice makes perfect. Before she felt his lips she felt the snort, an exhalation so powerful that it almost had the force of a touch. At this distance even the fact she was soaked didn't change anything - the blast felt hot against her nether lips, a gust from the furnace being stoked with every swell of that massive chest under her. She bit her lower lip, knowing that she would soon resort to chewing it just to keep quiet. There were more huffs, puffs of hot breath against her exposed inner petals, flesh so sensitive it was responding to currents of air as surely as they would to a lover's touch. Kyra held her breath and tried to tame the trembling of her legs until she finally felt it.

"Haaaahhh! Th-there's my saddle..." she husked, a tingle running from her loins, swelling as it ran up her spine only to explode once it reached her brain. She knew talking was a bad idea, and that she couldn't really spare the breath to do it right now, but the bliss she'd felt overrode common sense, what little she had.

It was always amazing - that first kiss of human labia and equine lips that only hinted at what was to some as the skilled stallion began to lavish her most intimate parts with loving attention and devious skill. It was what her body was looking forward for, but her heart rejoiced at the encounter to come just as desperately. The ride had felt wrong, and she only realized how much she enjoyed just being with her bonded steed, away from people and hidden from danger by the Corridor. She only realized how intimate that time really was now that they had an unwelcome guest tagging along. But the electric contact of his muzzle and her sex blanked such concerns out, and left the two of them seemingly alone in the world.

The lips began to move, the thrilling sensation of something so velvety soft and sensuously warm pinching and almost kneading her slit, every effort rewarded with what was by now a steady trickle of her nectar. Soon enough that enormous, diabolical tongue would come into play, something that could stretch her every bit as wide as a man's cock but that would writhe inside her until Manx had her doing the same.

It was tempting to just let her attention turn inward and narrow her world down to what was going on between her thighs, but the sight of the equine erection laying still on Manx's belly (apart from an occasional twitch and flex) was too tempting. Kyra leaned forward until her palms were resting on her stud's chest, awed as she always was by the sheer force of her steed's thumping heart. And each beat of that heart made the other love muscle throb, the inky length leaking obscenely as its owner feasted on a quivering human cunny.

Kyra kept resting one hand against the black equine body while her other reached out toward the meaty member. She laid her palm against the subtly flared tip, closing her hand around it and smiling as she saw the whole length stiffen to a steely harness and the tip mushroom-up as if it was trying to break her grip. She gave it a few playful squeezes before letting her hand slide down along the shaft, laying her chest down on Manx's while keeping her crotch within reach of the voracious stallion.

Her nostrils flaring and catching the thrilling scent of an aroused stud, Kyra felt her eyelids flutter and her mouth fall open on its own accord. It was kisses at first, the touch of velvety soft lips against hard equine flesh, a brush of warmth against heat that had the already stiff length grow as hard as steel in her grip. For all his sensibilities and level-headed nature, she knew Manx was every bit as passionate as she was, and as her demure kisses turned into long, passionate licks she wasn't surprised to find the blunt tip leaking like a faulty spigot. One of her hands began stroking up and down, trailing the stallion's juices down the velvety skin of his shaft and polishing it until it gleamed in what little light there was.

Her other hand slid lower, past the medial ring, the obscenely thick base of the studly spire and settling on the two hard, heavy orbs laying just behind it. Her touch was gentle, but she knew for a fact it was appreciated. This was a male (her male!), the body of a rutting beast and the soul of a lover any female would yearn for, regardless of the number of legs she walked on. They were always hefty things, but now they felt hard and heavy, holding enough equine spunk to put a mare's duties on hold for a couple of years. Not that she was likely to take a foal, but she never did let the precious seed go to waste.

Satisfied with her fondling, she slid back until the dripping, leaking tip was within reach of her mouth, pressing her rear against Manx's muzzle as she did so. The stallion twisted his head a little until it was almost sideways, using his strong equine lips to pry her dripping labia apart. Kyra pushed her mouth against the tip to muffle a cry as a thick, strong tongue pushed into her, sliding deep and wriggling around as it did, probing and rubbing against the silken walls molding themselves around it. She wrapped both hands around Manx's cock, stroking and squeezing the length even though there was no point now. When the shaft was tumescent she could almost knead it and the black length would yield a little under her fingers, but this was now a rock-hard rod, something that could stab into a mare in a single stroke, if she were so inclined. When she squeezed down on it now, not only did her fingers fail to press into the masculine meat, but the whole thing seemed to rise to the challenge, swelling up as if the shaft was trying to break her hold on it.

As Manx licked along her sopping tunnel she resisted the temptation to push her lips down and take him into her mouth. With the tip the way it was now she could just barely fit it, but the thing tended to flare up without much warning and the first and last time she'd tried to swallow at least a portion of her lover's stallionhood she'd nearly dislocated her jaw. She settled instead for kissing the tip, although these weren't the demure kisses from before. You couldn't really call them whorish, since most whores didn't kiss. It was messy and wanton, lips pressing tight against the blunt tip, the tongue flicking out to lick along the rim or the little cleft where all the mess was coming from.

Her hands were pumping furiously now, sliding along the slick length throbbing with more and more frequency. She was working him up, the chest under her swelling a little more with each breath and the heart thudding faster within it. But while he was building up, she was close to collapse. Manx kept his tongue buried deep, and settled for just wriggling it inside while the nimble tip flicked at a very intimate and very sensitive spot within her quivering belly. The nostrils she knew would be flared as if he was galloping, and she could feel each hot, rushing exhale of her equine lover gust across her parted cheeks and the little pink bud nestled between them.

Kyra's vision blurred, her legs buckled and let her hips rest full on Manx's muzzle, but even as her well-stuffed cunny gushed and squirted around the hefty equine tongue she kept working the stud's throbbing length with both hands and tongue. She could imagine the mess she'd made of her stallion's muzzle, and knew she was likely to add to it by the time he reached his limit. But unlike feral horses who finished with a mare in less than a minute, Manx knew how to hold back to make sure that they were both satisfied (or more often spent) by the time he was done.

The tingles that followed a climax never left Kyra as she worked the black spire now throbbing hard enough that she could catch every swell of the massive length. Normally by now she'd be begging for it, panting and whispering the sort of outrageously obscene pleas that even she would blush to hear if she wasn't this far along. Her hips were moving on their own, grinding themselves against her steed's muzzle as the tongue shifted within her steamy cunny.

When the head began to flare her heart almost skipped a beat. The rim expanded and the tip grew with every beat of Manx's heart, the veins along the spire standing out clearly as the already hard shaft swelled up. Kyra moved her ends to just under the flare, rubbing and stroking as she pressed her mouth into he cleft in the blunt tip and flicked her tongue against the little jutting part that was meant to press tight against a mare's cervix.

She'd learned early no not to try and swallow what Manx was about to give her. The moment she gulped some down her throat would close, slowing her down while the equine shaft kept spurting without pause. Instead she restricted herself to rapid, shallow breaths and opened up her gullet just in time to receive the first rope of stallion-milk. Her eyes grew glassy, losing focus on the engorged flare eclipsing her vision as a second climax washed over her. She stretched out one hand, unsteady as a drunkard reaching across the table for a half-empty bottle, her palm seeking and finding the stud's sack, now bunched up and twitching with every surge of warm, gooey cum sliding over her tongue and down her throat.

By the time Manx was done she felt full, and as she kissed the flare clean of the last pearly drops and watched the rod turn into a snake before slipping away, she couldn't help bit giggle softly at the accepted notion that a glass of warm milk was what you needed to help you get to sleep. And as much as she was tempted to just stay with Manx a while and make up for the intimacy lacking on this trip, they knew they'd need a good night's rest for tomorrow's Long Ride.

“Huhh… well that's something…" she whispered as they snuck back to their shelter and the slumbering scout.

“Enough?" the stallion asked. Or maybe teased. Kyra was too tired to tell the difference.

“Well it's going to have to be, isn't it? But at least we know that we can be quiet enough, as long as we both have a mouthful…" she said, kissing the muzzle still smelling of her before settling down to sleep.

*******

“So, which do you think is the worst?"

“Pardon?" Stiro asked, confused by the sudden question after a length silence.

“Of the buggers out there, lying in wait for us? Which one do you think is the nastiest?" Kyra asked. He could see her expression, but he could guess at it. She was testing him, trying to see if he really was as green as she suspected.

“Well, there's the sicari. They're solitary hunters, so we're more attractive as prey than a full caravan…" he said, naming the ugly, wiry predators who sought to paralyze their prey with visions that doing anything but standing stock still would cost them their lives, when their only real hope was outrunning the vicious predators.

“They'll still try for a caravan, especially if hungry enough. 'Course they have more problems with barkers…" she said, leaving the reference hanging.

“Makes sense. A sicari will pick a target or two… If they're fast enough guards can shoot the things before they reach them, but barker packs tend to be big enough to try for a larger group. And the only way you'll hit any of them with an arrow or bolt is by blind luck…" he said, earning a very subtle nod from the stubborn woman in front of him.

Barkers weren't as imposing as the hideous sicari, resembling jackals except with smaller ears and bigger jaws. But they were named for the wild racked they made when attacking a cacophony that complimented their mental assault. The closer the jabbering pack got the more they disrupted a person's hand-eye coordination. Skilled bowmen were lucky to get a single shot off before the points of their shaft began to wobble. Given their small size, the barkers had to go for the face and throat to kill, and armor including a full helmet and gorget was proof against them, but only some of the guardsmen on a caravan would be wearing all that. The rest would depend on those heavily armored men to kill enough of the pack to make the rest flee, all before the baying canines brought down the horses, and while the barkers were that close just walking was a challenge. And while on the subject of challenges…

“But the subtle ones can be just as bad. Like the cipula python…" he said, letting his sentence trail off.

“Yeah, heard they can be tricky. Not much of a threat for me since not a lot of our roads take us through forests. Then again if it wasn't for the Corridor a big enough bastard could always lure us into one…" she said, referring to the huge snake's tactic of luring prey with a vision of their desire, and dropping on them in a writhing, strangling mass when the poor soul passes under the python's tree. “What about you Manx? Who gets your vote?"

“Well those are all good candidates, but I'm going with the caliph tapir." The steed replied.

“Ohh yeah, like what Jacob told us about…"

“The caliph tapir? How… I mean they're herbivores, they don't stampede or anything like that… and it's only the bull who has any psychic potential to speak of. It's how they keep their harem-herds together – the sole breeding male will exert his will to make himself irresistible to the females, and a few of the adolescent males will cling to the group for safety from predators." Stiro said, remarking on the reason the tapirs bore the name of harem-keeping rulers of exotic lands.

“Yeah, and you know what happens when the adolescent males grow up?" Kyra asked, taking a delight in the young man's confusion.

“Well one of them will either manage to oust the breeding male and take over, some might be lucky enough to enthrall a few of the females into following them and form the beginning of a new herd. But most will be driven away. Of a few of those might be lucky enough to find a herd with an old bull and no males old enough to challenge him and take control of his harem, but most of them will eke out a living on their own and invariably become prey…"

“Yeah, but very rarely a few of these wandering males will come across each other and form a small 'bachelor herd', just for the safety that comes with numbers…" Manx explained to the still puzzled Stiro.

“And sometimes they'll form a big bachelor herd. And Manx and I've have met this guy Jacob – a hired hand on a caravan that came across a big herd in rut."

“Yeah but… caravans are always armed to the teeth. The caliph tapir is docile, he can't trample, he doesn't have any horns or tusks…"

“That's right. Everyone on the caravan was relieved when they saw the little chubby bastards emerging from the bush. They were even surprised when the whole herd – a score or so – came right up, cozying up to everyone as if they were pets and not wild animals…"

“Okay, but I still…"

“Wasn't funny for long though. Poor Jacob had seen it all happen… “ Manx said gravely.

“You see, nobody realized what the horny buggers were doing with their brains. When the tapirs started sporting erections everyone laughed, and when the horses started trying to present themselves they laughed harder."

“Oh yes. The bulls also use their mind to make females docile during mating…"

“That's right, but these bachelors were too horned up to care about what they were 'making docile'. When people started getting on all fours and nobody found themselves able to lift a hand against the tapirs, nobody felt like laughing."

“You mean… well I see how that would be traumatizing. Uhm… fortunately there aren't usually a lot of women along on the caravans."

“That's right, there aren't. But like I said the bulls weren't picky…"

“Oh. Well… uhh… speaking of that… I mean not… not really but…" he said, stumbling as he sought to steer the conversation to something he'd been meaning to say, and realizing he might have picked a very awkward way of bringing it up.

“Are you okay?" asked the steed carrying them.

“Yes it's just… a bit of a sensitive subject so… I don't want to offend either of you, but you hear things about Couriers and their steeds…"

“Yeah?" Kyra asked from behind him, a chilly tone that didn't make it any easier for Stiro to continue.

“Look, if they're just gossip, I apologies for bringing it up, but supposing it wasn't… I wouldn't judge. And if it was true, than me being here is kind of… inconvenient. Look, I don't want to get into the why of it, but I want you to know that I wouldn't consider a relationship like that to be wrong in any way and that I'd respect your privacy, should you need it…"

“Well… that's certainly something to keep in mind…" Kyra said, her voice calm and her body growing more relaxed against his back.

*******

“Haahhh… by the Gods I missed this…" Kyra said, her tone a heavy and husky with her voice as shaky as her legs.

“Mnhhh, I can tell. You're still squeezing down." The stallion replied from above her. He didn't need breath to send his words into her mind, but his rich masculine tone was a perfect counterpart to her own.

“Can you blame me? Mhhhhh, you belong in here…" Kyra purred tempted to pet the bump in her flat stomach, the unsubtle sing that she had the stud's flared tip as deep inside her as he body could accommodate.

But her legs were shaky and she didn't dare release even one stirrup. She was a good rider and Manx was a caring steed, so she could ride bareback easily, but the saddle came in exceptionally handy whenever she was under her lover and needed something to hold on to. Her fingers were wrapped tight around the metal footholds-turned-handholds, her bountiful breasts hanging down with each pointing a hard, stiff nipple at the ground below. She felt Manx grow soft within her, the length that had until moments ago seemed as hard as aged oak growing supple. He was still thick though, and so thrillingly hot that her freshly creamed walls were reluctant to release her equine lover.

His flare was always the last to deflate and she moaned softly as she followed its progress as it kissed her cervix goodbye and began to trail backward. When it was fully flared, the rim of the trumpet-like tip was dotted with tiny little nubs, and now each of those was trailing along the sensitive flesh of her sex, coaxing a few flutters and tremors from the well-bred femininity. Soon enough she could feel her lips straining as the mushroom-like tip became the only part of the stallion left within her. And she couldn't help but grin as she clamped down, drawing a nicker from Manx as her slit closed around the sensitive tip. When it finally did leave her body it was with a pop, followed by warmth running down her inner thighs as the stallion's seed flowed form her and the intimate coolness of the breeze reaching spots it never could have if the enormous shaft hadn't left her petals so obscenely parted.

The trembling of her legs had calmed enough for the long limbs to hold her weight so Kyra got out from under her steed and walked up to face him. With a warm smile she embraced the ebony stud's head, his forehead buried in her cleavage and his muzzle resting against her mound. Ever the cavalier, Manx reached out with his tongue and began to clean up his mess as best as he could.

“Do you… we aren't being selfish, are we?"

“What do you mean?" Manx asked, never so much as pausing the loving strokes of his tongue against his lover's crotch.

“Well it's not like Stiro has anyone else out here. I'm not… I'm not sure if he has anyone else back there, either. Y'know, with him being… what he is." Kyra mumbled, feeling bad about flippantly referring to the young man as a freak herself.

“I know what you mean… but what do you suggest we do?"

“Well it's not like there are any secrets between us. We both kind of like him, don't we?" she asked, idly scratching behind the steed's ears.

“Yeah. Why though? I didn't think you were into human males…"

“I'm not into men. Big, hairy, lumbering, think they're in charge…" Kyra muttered.

“About the big and hairy part…"

“Hairy, not furry. C'mon, you can't tell me anyone would confuse this lovingly maintained coat for patches of sparse, wiry hairs, would you?"

“I guess not…" Manx conceded, although he suspected the last part was the real deal-breaker. Compared to a human male he was bigger, stronger, and when it came to masculine endowments quite frankly beyond compare, but even so he knew he wasn't in charge of the feisty woman even now playing with his mane.

“But he's so… he's pretty! And he's sort of shy and reserved… kinda makes me want to… I don't know – coax him out a little…"

“You sure you aren't getting a little maternal?"

“No, because the things I'd want to do to him once I did coax him out weren't the kind of things any sane mother would do to her son. I mean, I just brushed my hand against it for a second -by accident!- but c'mon! The Bond's a two-way street so I know you must be curious what he looks like – that pretty face, the elfin body, and then just a long, pale, smooth…" Kyra trailed off, and then as if to mask the fact turned the argument around. “Anyway, I'd never picked up any interest in a male from you…"

“Well like you say he isn't all that masculine. I gotta admit I'm curious and let's be real – there aren't really any males I'd be interested in back at the Guild."

“Soooo, no stallions?" she teased, gasping when Manx snorted right against her mound.

“That special serum only works on humans, remember."

“Okay, so we're both interested. Next time we'll see about getting him involved. Not sure how far he'll be willing to go along with you, but I'll try to spark his curiosity."

“You sound confident."

“I am confident, and with good reason! I noticed him steeling a glance every now and again. I'll just make sure to give him an eyeful and we'll take it from there…"

*******

"That's the stream?"

"Yeah. I told you it wasn't much to look at. But the water's nice and clean and it's the only one around, so..." she said, slipping out of the saddle followed by the fair-skinned youth. The stream did look pristine, running fast over the large pebbles lining its bottom.

Taking his eyes off the gurgling water he was just in time to catch Kyra's nimble fingers dancing through the laces of her jerkin, the well-worn leather parting down the middle the more of them she worked loose. He wasn't sure how this would go, and if maybe as the sole female in their party Kyra expected the two of them (or at least Stiro) to give her privacy while she bathed. But the courier was smiling subtly, eyes glued to the stream that while meager looked exquisitely tempting after days spent in the saddle. Not there was nothing in her posture or demeanor that suggested she wanted privacy, and he knew for a fact this woman wouldn't have been too shy or too polite to ask for it. As the leather opened it showed a paler belt of skin than the sun-kissed flesh Kyra exposed in such abundance. And when it was gone Stiro found himself almost choking as his breath caught in his throat once the leather garment was loosened and tossed aside. His distress caught Kyra's attention, but she just grinned at the sight of him blushing and sputtering.

"So you really haven't been sneaking peeks! Don't worry, that's the reaction most people have when they see them for the first time..." she teased, throwing her arms up and stretching, knowing full well it would only serve to accentuate the bust that had caught the young man's gaze. "Even when Manx is taking it slow these things tend to bounce, and never you mind what they do when he gallops! So I keep them trussed up pretty tight during a ride. So if you're done admiring them, how about you get along with it? A quick wash for all three of us, then for our clothes - where applicable - and then we have a short break while waiting for them to dry.." she explained, shimmying out of her leggings.

Stiro wasn't sure why the woman who'd shown him little affection so far seemed so companionable, but the prospect of clean water washing over him was too alluring for him to hesitate much longer. He unclasped his riding cloak and quickly rid himself of his shirt, showing some hesitation only when it came time to take his britches off. Kyra was at the stream's edge, testing the water and looking back to see how far he'd gotten along. He hesitated because while it seemed Kyra had finally gotten over the fact that he was a full psychic, he was about to expose part of him that was almost as much to blame for his awkwardness around people in general and women in particular.

He couldn't help but notice Kyra's gaze had not returned to the water her hand was dipped in the moment his own hand undid his belt. He took a breath before sliding his pants down and stepping out of them, trying not to notice the wide-eyed stare on the couriers face as she took full sight of his freakish body.

"Come on in..." she said, wading into the middle of the stream where the water almost but not quite reached her knee. Both her long black hair and her heavy breasts dropped and swayed as she bent over, cupping the water before splashing it over her face. Her gasp, combined with the wet trickle running between those heavy globes set Stiro's feet into motion. But the moment one of those feet touched the water he found his fair skin breaking out in goosebumps.

"Oh yeah, didn't I mention? It's just a tad cold..." Kyra said through a grin that had split her face when she heard the surprised young man's shuddering exhale. "It springs out of a little jut of rock about half a mile upstream. Must come up from pretty deep down, but it's great once you get used to it. So you gonna come in, or do you want to stay there and have a shower?" she asked, bending over and preparing to make good on her threat.

She's being polite about it... Stiro thought, not failing to notice that her eyes were straying every now and again to his crotch. There was no hiding his shame, but maybe the cold water would help. Then again considering that he had Kyra naked in front of him with her own flesh goose pimpled and glistening he wasn't sure if the stream would have been cold enough even if it had been carrying half-melted ice.

"If he doesn't want a shower, you know I'm always up for one..." came Manx's voice, and since it was sounding in his head rather than his ears, Stiro found himself looking around for the dark stallion. The steed had joined them in the stream but not having hands to splash water over himself he was settling for just having a drink of the cool water and waiting for his rider to finish with her own ablutions. Stiro sat cross-legged in the stream, hoping the cold water to either hide or lessen the cause of his embarrassment while he rubbed to both clean and warm himself. Kyra did the same while standing in the stream, either bending low to wash her long, toned legs or splashing handfuls over her head, her dark hair now a mass of clinging tendrils reaching down past her shoulders. Droplets glittered on both bronzed flesh and the parts of her the sun didn't so often reach. The chill stream should have solved the scout's problem, but every time he caught a glimpse of the nipples jutting from those pale, round mounds, or the glitter of droplets caught in the little dark tuft bellow the woman's belly, blood surged and fought the damping effects of the cold stream.

"Hey, care to help me out with Manx? I figure you owe him for the ride he's giving you?"

Coming out of the blue, the words had derailed thoughts Stiro blushed to realize had been swimming in his mind. Bu the sight of a beautiful naked woman had a way of drawing a haze over an otherwise clear mind, and especially when his imagination was already sullied by the noises he could hear every night. The ring of scentries had to be fairly small so they couldn't go very far, and even though they both did a good job of muffling the sounds that came from mouth or muzzle, there were various slaps and slurps that they couldn't help but make and he couldn't help but hear. The suggestion that he 'help her out with Manx' conjured a lurid scene for a moment before he realized Kyra must have ben referring to bathing the steed.

"Oh, okay..." he said, gingerly getting up and trying to act casual about the fleshy spire jutting freakishly out between his legs, noticed by both rider and steed even though they pretended nothing was amiss. With his skin wet and cool he could feel the heat radiating from the stallion, and figuring Manx would be eager for a bath he bend down, cupping his hands and carefully pouring it over the stallion's inky back. He did this twice before he caught Kyra's sniggering and a sense of amusement form the steed himself.

"I appreciate the careful and diligent approach, but that would take forever. You better just do what Kyra does..." the stallion said as his rider walked to the opposite side of the jet-black stud before squatting down until her hands were dipped in the water. Still unsure, Stiro did the same on the other side of the stallion.

"Ready Manx?" she asked with a grin, getting a snort and a toss of the long black mane. "You ready Stiro?"

"I... yes?" he replied, not sure if he was.

It had been enough for Kyra and a moment later her hands flew up, sending a spray of cold, clear water arcing through the air and breaking up into hundreds of glittering droplets before they splashed all over the dusty black coat of the nickering stallion. Following her example the youth did the same, and soon the steed's muscles were twitching as cold water soaked through the fur.

Kyra made sure to brush that coat every evening, and even during their travels the dust of the road had failed to fully dull its exceptional sheen. But once it was thoroughly soaked the fur no longer looked jet-black, but literally like jet. Manx looked like he was a carving of semi-precious stone polished to a glittering shine before being brought to life, with the sunlight reflecting and playing over every curve in the powerful equine body. And the next time Stiro bent over to scoop up some water, he noticed he wasn't the only one whose body was betraying him despite the chilliness of the stream. The stallion's length had dropped in spite of the cold spray, and the young man was surprised that the sight of the meaty length had made him freeze in place for a few seconds.

They kept it up for a few more minutes, thoroughly soaking both the inky stallion and each other before striding out of the gurgling stream.

"Looks like it's going to be a while until our clothes are dry..." Kyra remarked, inspecting the garments flung on nearby shrubs to dry in the sun before finding a suitable spot on the grassy bank and stretching out her own glistening body to dry along with them. When Manx also settled beside her Stiro figured he might as well join them in this brief moment of respite.

"Hey, what's that thing on your chest?" the lounging courier asked, cracking one eye open to look at the fair-skinned young man seated next to her.

"It's a tattoo?"

"Great answer! I mean what is it supposed to be? Looks kind of like those symbols the Voryag use. Not that I'm implying you're a..."

"I am actually." Stiro said, earning an incredulous look from Kyra and a pair of perked ears from Manx.

"Really?" came the surprised voice of the stallion.

"Yes. Look, any Voryag you two have met were likely to be hunters - the strongest and toughest among us. We're not all like that..." he said, feeling a bit self-conscious as rider and steed took in the sight of his svelte body, naked but for the intricate black mark scribed just below his neck.

"Hmm, fair point. But don't they usually have a whole collar of those... what do you call them anyway?" Kyra asked.

"They're pictograms. It's writing, but a kind where one symbol denotes one word."

"So you have one of those picture-letters for every word? How do you remember them all?"

"It's complicated, but there are sort of... hints in the design. If you know how to read the different curves and strokes that make up a symbol, you can tell what it means. And if you know the sounds of a word, you know how you're supposed to draw it."

"I... I don't think I could wrap my mind around that..." Kyra said, brow furrowed as she tried to imagine being able to read and write such a bizarre script.

"Most outsiders can't, but it's easy for us. Voryag have a way of spotting patterns, even subtle ones. It's why we've always been such good trackers..."

"So what does it mean? And how come you only have one?" Kyra asked. A curiously brisk snort come from the stallion behind her, sounding like an equine equivalent of someone intentionally clearing their throat. Manx seemed to think his rider was prying too much, but Kyra looked at him with genuine curiosity and interest, coaxing more form him than Stiro was comfortable sharing.

"It's meaning is... complicated. It's my birthmark, the one given to a Voryag entering childhood..."

"Don't you do that by being born?"

"Not among us. Back when we were nomads we lived a much harder life. It was not uncommon for babes to die before taking their first steps, so parent's couldn't get their hopes up too soon. They couldn't get too attached to a child that might be suddenly taken from them. But after your first words and when your first steps turn into your first runs there is a ceremony. A celebration, where the pack you are born into determines the design of your birthmark and the tattoo is applied. It hints at the circumstances of your birth, the phase the moon was in... some of the lines are sort of... well-wishes or blessings. It can't really be read as a word, but parts of my birthmark denote things like the flight of an arrow, the first crust of ice on still water..." he trailed off, wondering if Kyra would sense his hesitation to continue, or for that matter if he wanted her to.

"And the others?"

"They... how much do you know about the way Voryag live?" he asked.

"I know you form bonds with thinking wolves, something like me and this handsome stud right here. Except, it's not weird among your kind, right? You don't get people talking shit about you whenever they think you're out of earshot?"

"Definitely not! Voryag is the name for both the humans and lupine members of my kind. We believe that before we learned to bond, we were two tribes that were... incomplete, or deeply flawed. It's hard for outsiders to grasp, but we don't see ourselves as humans and wolves living side by side. The lupines are kin, and a non-Voryag human would be the outsider. All of us bond - men and women, unlike in the Guild- and yes, the bonds are just as intimate as..." he said, his words catching as he hinted at the activities he'd been so careful to pretend didn't keep him up at night. "It's why Voryag don't have the sort of marriages other humans do. Wolf and human bond and love, but they do not breed, so each one is expected to also have at least one partner of the same species and opposite sex. The minimum of people in what you would call a Voryag marriage are two wolves and two humans - a male and female from each. Such a union is fruitful since it produces both babies and puppies."

"At least?" Manx asked, figuring that as long as Kyra was going to pry, he might as well sate his curiosity.

"You have to understand how foreign the concept of monogamy is among my kind. For us it seems like... like a society where you are only expected to have one friend and are judged for being friends with anyone but that one person. The four people in a Voryag 'marriage' will prefer to make love together, and when they do there are no lines and no taboos, including same-sex pairings. Most will try at least once, but some develop a liking, and if that liking extends to the member of both your sex and your species..."

"...you bring more people into the 'marriage'..." Kyra mused, her mind reeling with the numerous carnal permutations.

"...and then you have the building block of a tribe. Our society is made up of these packs and the children born to them the way yours are made up of families." he explained, pausing before answering the lingering question "a human Voryag's collar is continued with symbols denoting the members of their pack. We bond early on, often at the onset of puberty, so the bond-mate's symbol goes first, to the left of the birthmark. And when youthful curiosities give way to thoughts of offspring, a mate of your own species will go to the right, with others added as they join the pack." he finished. Most people would have read enough from that, and felt too awkward about asking the question rising from this explanation.

"So how come you only have one?" asked Kyra, who was not most people.

"Like with couriers and steeds, the human mind is the passive one. It accepts an active mind the way a lock accepts a key. But I'm a psychic and my mind is even more outward-pointed than that of a Voryag wolf or a steed. I can touch other minds but mine is sealed off to others, and without that flow there is no bond. And without that, I don't really have a place among my kind."

"So they drove you away?" Kyra asked, compassion outweighing curiosity. The Guild was a safety-net for a certain kind of cast-away girls - ones who didn't fit in with 'normal' society. But even though in high demand, there was too much distrust of psychics for them to find such refuge.

"No! They were kind, but... to them it was as if I'd somehow been revealed as a cripple, except one with a maimed soul rather than a maimed body. I left because I couldn't bear the burden of their pity for the rest of my life..."

“I guess I kind of understand that part…" Kyra said.

“You… you really don't…" the pale young man replied, the remark putting her off-balance for a moment.

“Oh? You think the women in the Guild fit in perfectly with the rest of human society? Not by a long shot. We either reject it or are rejected by it, sometimes…" she began but Stiro interrupted her, showing more spine than she thought he had.

“Yes, but you found a place where you fit in, didn't you? People with my abilities… we are recognized as useful, we can even command a high price for our services, but we're never trusted. Nobody spends more time around us longer than they have to and we're too rare to really form a group of our own. And everyone without our 'gift' is certain we use it to pry into the minds of those around us…"

“Yeah but… you could, couldn't you? And you have to admit that some psychics do, or have done that…" Kyra said, trying to be tactful. She suspected she failed by the fact that Manx was trying to swat her subtly with his tail, a signal for her to stop talking while she still could.

“You have ears don't you? You can hear?" the scout asked.

“Well, yeah?"

“And you have good eyesight?"

“Pretty good…" Kyra admitted, guessing where this was going.

“So do you listen in on people and spy on them, just because you can?"

“No…" the dusky woman admitted, feeling mildly annoyed but more ashamed than she'd care to admit.

“And why not?"

“'Cause it's none of my goddamn business, that's why…"

“Exactly. I feel the same way. I know right from wrong, and I know prying where people don't want me to is wrong. And like hearing and eyesight, I can pick little things up by accident. I can tell what sort of mood people are in, even if they try to hide it. I can sort of sense if someone had a strong reaction to something they hear or see. But I've never entered the mind of a sentient being without knowing for sure I was welcome there. And yet almost everyone I ever meet is sure that's all that I want to do…"

“Yeah, I guess we've kind of been the same way to you…" she said, before a powerful equine snort right against her bare back forced her to correct herself. “Ahh… I may have the greater portion of blame for that, thank you…" she said, turning back to face the stallion.

“You're welcome."

"You know, it's going to be a while until our clothes are dry. And it looks like the sight of a naked woman has both of you worked up..." she said. Either of the two might have accused her of changing the subject because she feels uncomfortable, but a naked woman taking interest in a male tends to derail any previously established train of thought.

"Oh! Sorry, I'll just give you some..."

"Do you want to?" Kyra asked, stopping the pale youth just as he was rising.

"W-want what?" Stiro asked, the color rising to his face betraying more than just his confusion.

"Well do you want to give us some privacy, or do you want to stay?" Kyra purred, making the second option unclear but infinitely more appealing.

"S-stay?" asked the now rosy-cheeked scout.

"Mm-hmm. You wouldn't have to do anything if you don't want to, but neither of us would mind if you joined in. If nothing else you'll see how much of those rumors about Couriers are true, and you can find out what the noises you've been hearing at night are..." she said, rising along with the black stallion whose shaft was starting to lift as it hardened.

"You wouldn't be expected to do anything you're not comfortable with..." Manx assured him, obviously assuming the human male was a little intimidated by joining in due to the inky length slowly but surely rising towards the stud's chest.

"But I thought that with the Bond and everything..."

"Yeah, well like your people we aren't strictly monogamous as long as we share physical affections with people we both like. When steeds mate their riders are always there to lend a helping hand. Or whatever feels good..." she said, throwing kindling on the flame that was the young scout's imagination.

"All right, but I... I don't really have a lot of experience..."

"Well that's easily fixed." Kyra said, throwing the saddle on Manx's back without fastening the strap.

"Wait, are we... what's the saddle for?" Stiro asked.

"Stick around and find out..." she said with a wink before getting down on her knees and placing her hands on the now throbbing black shaft.

Stiro was still stunned by the casualness of the scene, but it wasn't Kyra's and Manx's easy approach to sex that had him short of breath. He'd just barely managed to get a grip on himself after seeing the beautiful Courier bathe, certain that any interest on his part would be met with best with polite rejection. Now she was on her knees with her back to him casting an occasional glance over her shoulder as she ran her hands along a stallion's pride and joy. The young man was aware of his own manhood, painfully hard now as his eyes traced the sides of Kyra's heavy breasts visible on either side of her chest and the heart-shaped rear a little further down that bronze back. He couldn't muster a thought but his feet stared moving him towards his desires anyway. He settled down nervously next to her, watching as if in a trance as the until recently intimidating woman flashed him a smile and moved one hand from the stallion's erection to his.

"Mhhh, not as big as Manx here, but not bad. I was wondering if you were really that much of a handful, or if it just looked big on that slender body..." she said, sounding genuinely excited about the pale shaft she was stroking. "Bet you could drive a girl wild with this..."

"Ahh... wouldn't know..." the pale youth gasped.

"Well, boys too I suppose..."

"No I mean I never...it started growing when I was young... all the girls thought it was too - npffh! - too big to..."

"So you've never been with a girl?" Kyra asked in disbelief.

"A few... but never... none of them wanted to..." Stiro tried, struggling to talk about something he was reluctant to bring up at the best of times, and that was when he had lungs full of breath.

"I think you gave up to soon... girls can get anxious when they're first starting out. Even I used to be scared at the thought of a part of someone going inside me..."

"She got over that, in case you're wondering..." quipped Manx, flexing the shaft his rider was stroking.

"Hmm. Tell you what Stiro - next time we bed down properly I'm going to stretch out, open my legs for you and see if we can't make up for lost time. But now I could use some help here. I don't think one hand is doing it for this gorgeous beast, and I'm too curious about this new toy to let it go..." she purred, squeezing gently on Stiro's shaft as she slid her hand up it.

The youth's hands shook as it rose, settling finally on the turgid black mass in front of him. As he slid his hand along the veiny spire, he didn't miss the tremors running along the barrel-chest or the way the stallion's member flexed at his touch. Kyra's eyes shifted from what to her would be a familiar part of her lover's body to his own slender pale form. He caught her eyes when they were examining his own shaft, now wet and slick as she polished it. There was no apprehension, but then again if she didn't balk at the notion of being intimate with a stallion of Manx size, he was not likely to make her nervous.

"So, wanna see what the saddle's for?" she asked, and before Stiro could respond she had her hands off both him and Manx.

Stiro still hadn't been sure how many of the rumors he'd heard about the Couriers were true. Manx was obviously Kyra's lover, but for all he knew she might just use her hands and mouth with him, the way the few girls he'd been with had done for him. But when she stood under the stallion with her legs spread wide, her back against his belly and her hands gripping the stirrups, it dawned on him that the raunchiest rumors might be true.

"Hey, while you're there, mind helping him in? Do a nice job and I'll be grateful..." Kyra cooed, wriggling her rear a little as if the young man's eyes weren't already glued to the pale rump framed by coppery skin.

He got a very good view of her from under the stallion, and looking at the blunt black tip and the surpassingly dainty-looking slit he still couldn't believe what she was asking from him to do. But he was nothing if not obedient, so with a strange fascination he angled the equine member up until the leaky flare was just barely brushing the already wet petals of Kyra's sex. He heard Kyra coo at the feel of heat kissing her nether lips and saw her arch her back and thrust out against the tip. That must have been a signal to her stud because the next thing the pale youth saw was the head disappearing into the snug looking slit with one sharp buck.

He found himself staring wide-eyed at the labia now wrapped tight at the narrow part just behind as his ears filled with a shaky coo coming from the woman who just had the bestial tip pushed into her. As the stunned youth watched, Kyra tip-toed backward in daintily steps, sliding herself back on the engorged equine member. The bestial shaft disappeared into the snug sex as if it had been made to fit into it, and it was only when Kyra had half the stud firmly stuck in her that she spoke.

"You might want to get up from under there now, or else something might hit you in the head..." Kyra said, and as if to prove her point the stallion gave a little buck, enough for his heavy, swinging sack to give Stiro a tap on the back of his head.

The moment he was out the stallion began to thrust in earnest, pushing almost the entire length into Kyra's sex with enough force to push his lover forward a little. The purpose of the saddle for a woman who obviously had no trouble riding bareback was now obvious, since it was only the stirrup-handholds keeping Kyra from being knocked face-first into the dirt every time Manx bottomed out inside her. It seemed brutal, or rather it should have, but there was no sign of distress on the woman's face. Kyra looked blissfully happy under her mount, and the sound's she made as she was rutted betrayed no point or discomfort, despite the fact that he could see her rear ripple with every thrust and her heavy breasts sway under her.

"You done good wolf-boy. Now c-ahh!-come here..." she beckoned, and when Stiro was in front of her she srurpised him by taking her arms off the stirrups and flinging them around his waist. "There we go. Now about your reward..." she said, before tilting her head down end engulfing the pale cock standing stiffly at attention.

He could feel her moan around him as her lips wrapped around his shaft, sliding lower and lower. He could feel his tip glide over a wriggling tongue and to his amazement even beyond. By the time Kyra had swallowed every inch of him, something he didn't think a woman could do given his size, he could feel his tip being caressed by her throat every time she swallowed. It was hard to imagine this was the same woman who'd taken a dislike to him the moment she'd laid eyes on him if not before. He could see the corners of those lips lift a little even as she suckled on his pale member, lashing her tongue against it before she began to slide her head up and down.

Manx had craned his long neck to watch but his hindquarters never slowed. It wasn't the wild thrusts of a feral stallion, especially since he wasn't really mounting a mare, but he could see the ripple of muscle under the shiny black coat and he knew that each thrust still had a lot for force behind it. He wasn't sure how long the horse would last but he knew he was close.

"Kyra... I'm... I'm close..." he panted, figuring he owed her fair warning.

Her response was to pull him close, her palms gripping his cheeks and her lisp kissing the base of his shaft as the tongue pressed against it, sliding back and forth as if trying to stroke him. Without even thinking about it he buried his fingers in the Courier's still damp black mane, gasping for breath as he released everything he had down her throat. It was only when he was spent that he realized he was holding Kyra's face pressed against his crotch, but judging by the glassy look in her eyes he doubted she cared.

"Ju-uhhh!-st the right size... Now get down there and give them a squeeze... y'know you want to..." she said, releasing him and once again grabbing the stirrups.

Stiro didn't need to ask what she meant, or to be told twice. He knelt on the thick grass under the dusky woman's chest, his breath catching in his throat as he feasted his eyes on her magnificent breasts bouncing with every thrust Manx made into her. His hands rose until the hard nipples were brushing against his palms as they swayed to and fro, and it was only when he had one hefty globe in each hand that they stopped bouncing and merely rippled as the woman was rutted. He just cupped them at first but the sounds Kyra was making encouraged him to massage the pale globes, gently to begin with but he soon gave into temptation and let his fingers sink a little into the plaint flesh on every squeeze.

"Hnaaahh, he's about to... Stiro, put a hand on my belly. You have to feel this!" Kyra cried out, and the young man found his body obeying her without his mind being consulted. At first he could feel nothing but the trim muscles of the Courier's abdomen, but soon he realized he could feel the motion, even if just barely, of Manx' shaft as it plunged in and out of her. But a few seconds later his eyes went wide as he felt what Kyra had meant. It was like a bump traveling back and forth until Manx gave one last thrust and it stopped and just started growing. Looking at the back length embedded in the eagerly whimpering woman he could see the sack pull up and the whole underside throb in time to the bump his hand was now resting on.

He held his breath as he realized he was watching and feeling the proud stallion breed his mare whose heavy breathing soon broke into a long, breathy moan. He saw the bronze body twitch and tremble and heard Manx snort above. He could feel the tremors run through her abdomen and imagined what was happening to the equine member buried as far as it could go as the unusual mare holding it rode out her orgasm. Kyra seemed to wait until her equine lover just started going soft to slide off him. As the glistening length was pulled out there was a wet, slick sound Stiro remembered from those nights when the mating of this pair had managed to wake him. The head was still enormous and it strained Kyra's folds until it left her with a wet pop.

"Impressive, huh?" Kyra asked, getting her breath back as she posed with her hip cocked and her legs parted, a stream of equine seed running down the insides of her thighs, while Stiro was obviously surprised she could stand on them.

"H-how..."

"We call it 'serum' in the Guild. A special recipe that a few trusted alchemists mix up for us. Don't wry, by tonight I'll be tight enough to make your first proper time with a woman something to remember. But until then, do you mind helping me clean up?" she asked, smiling until the young man blushed and sank to his knees.

Kyra shared a look of surprise with the black stallion behind her as the waifish young man eagerly began to lap at her messy sex, especially since she was thinking about plating her rump in the cold stream and having the boy wash her out. This one shows a lot of promise... Ooh, and talent! she mused as the pretty young man's tongue slid in...

*******

“You okay Kyra?" Stiro asked. He wasn't entirely sure why, but the last time they passed under the visual constructs visible to both her and Manx, it felt faint, as if the two of them weren't as focused on the imaginary arches.

“Hmm? Yeah, I guess… mebe I need one night of just no-nonsense sleep. 'S been what… five days?" came a voice from just behind his right shoulder, surprisingly mellow for Kyra.

“S'right. Might be a good idea to call an early night. Or just find a safe spot, drop scentries and have a quick rest…" responded the steed carrying them, the same lethargy coloring the tone of his projected voice. Stiro had joined the two of them the past evening, a thought that made color rise to his pale cheeks as he remembered how… enthusiastic he'd been. But these two were used to the strain of the road as well as the little intimate interludes. He was trying to puzzle out what could tire them out while sparing him when his senses seeking outward encountered a likely answer.

“Morpheus myr!"

“Huh? We still doing that thing? Yeah, I guess they'd have to be the worst… Never saw any, thank Heavens, but you hear stories…" she said, shuddering against the young scout's back.

They didn't look like much, supposedly – ants roughly the size of a rhinoceros beetle and with bronze-colored shells. Not a pretty sight but easy victims of boots or hooves. Provided you ran into a dozen or so, they were just big bugs. But even though they didn't have minds of their own, in a group they could exert a nasty force on the psyche. First they would put their victim to sleep, and then they'd push them deeper and deeper, until you were so deeply asleep almost nothing could wake you. Certainly not mandibles sinking into your flesh over and over as the bugs gorged. But ants were nothing if not industrious, and there were hungry mouths back at the colony. Usually they'd stop only when they reached bone.

“Well so much for getting a good night's sleep now. Probably end up dreaming about those buggers crawling all over me the moment I close my eyes…" said Manx.

“No, I mean there are some here, now! That's why you're feeling sluggish!"

“But… were still moving through the Corridor… they can't tell we're here, right? So they can't be focusing on us…" Myra said, leaning against Stiro a little harder.

“Yes, but a big enough swarm can dull the mind even without focusing. And if they do so enough to break your concentration, they'll know we're here, and then it will be too late. Manx, turn… turn left, off the road. Move as fast as you can and both of you, keep the Corridor up…"

“All right… Manx do as he says, and do your best… fuck, haven't had this much trouble seeing my vines since I was learning how…"

“I can make out my triliths well enough… Just wish we didn't have to veer off the road. Feel a little dizzy and I'd prefer beaten dirt under me…" the steed said, but he did turn away from the rutted road.

“Okay… uhh… you heard stories about the myr, right? Did the people who told them tell you what it looked like when they came across them?" Stiro tried.

He felt a shudder of disgust run through the body pressed against his, and knew both that the two had heard the gory details, and that the images would serve to break them out of the trance. He'd seen it himself and he was sure that he'd see it all again once he went to sleep. Slumbering bodies of men and horses, and neat rows of big bronze ants, some of them moving eagerly towards their victims, but the lines leading back to the colony were always worse, because every pair of mandibles would be clutching a glistening red morsel about the size of a hazelnut. You were safe while they were gorging, provided you didn't make them feel endangered. Sometimes they'd focus on a victim's limb and strip it down before moving on. In those cases you could try and drag the poor soul away, amputate the ruined limb while they were somewhere the pain couldn't reach and try to wake them. But if the ants had started to strip the body all over… it was a kindness to make sure the poor souls never woke.

“Yeah, I remember… would have thought they were trying to scare us, except some of them had started to shake while they were telling it… Fuck, get it together Manx, next arch coming up…" Kyra said, and it seemed to work.

The steed tossed his mane and quickened his pace, even though he still looked like his hooves had turned to lead. But they kept the corridor up and the bronze bugs never really brought the force of their collective psyche to bear on them. After a few minutes Manx was cantering, and their focus was sharp enough that Stiro could once again feel whenever they went through the mental constructs that the rider-steed tandem conjured.

“All right, just stop here and let me get the bearings…" he said, jotting down the landmarks and how far they'd strayed off the road. “This was the biggest threat out here. A colony that could catch us through a corridor… it must be large enough to swarm soon. I have to get as good an idea of just where they are so they can send someone to clear them."

“You mean someone's going to go out and try to… what, stomp the buggers before they put them under?" Kyra asked.

“No. Not even hunters can go out against a Morpheus colony. They'll have to send catapults out here. First they'll throw rocks to break up the crust of the soil. Then barrels full of pitch in the same places, and when that's soaked through, they'll launch flaming arrows. They'll burn a wide swath out there before anyone's sent out to turn the earth and stop the fire from spreading."

“For obvious reasons I'm partial to fields of thick green grass, but if those monsters are underneath, even I say burn it…" Manx said.

“Yeah, better going hungry than becoming a meal, huh?" Kyra remarked. “Well Stiro, we were sent along to keep you safe, but I have to admit that this time you saved us. Thanks!" she said, surprising the pale youth by wrapping her arms around him and giving him a hug that was deeply and genuinely affectionate, even though he wasn't sure why he got that impression. It would occur to him only days later that it was because Kyra had just held him without trying to grope or pinch anything…

*******

All in all, Kyra had to admit Manx's idea to give Stiro a chance had been a good one. The elfin scout had been grateful for any form of acceptance, and seemed to have an insatiable curiosity now that Kyra had managed to convince him that what he had between his legs wasn't a curse. And it was also nice to see that he didn't have qualms about sharing affections with another male, which she figured might be an understatement. Especially from her current vantage point.

Manx was reclining comfortably, gazing either at the starry sky or more likely the play of firelight across her back. She guessed it was the second one for several reasons. One was that while seated just under his chest she was making sure to keep her back arched and her firm rear thrust out in a way that was sure to catch a male's eye. And the other was the fact that the black spire pressed against her belly and wedged between her breasts was throbbing steadily and leaving her impressive cleavage a glistening mess.

She'd initially imagined Stiro would be busy cleaning her up, but the svelte youth seemed to have a hard time releasing her nipple, and she didn't have the heart to pull the pretty face away from her tit. Heh, maybe I really am getting maternal... she thought and almost laughed at the notion. But she had to admit that she loved the sight of their now welcome guest suckling her and moaning around his mouthful. She got so used to seeing a stallion's muzzle wrapped around one of her breasts that she lost the sense of scale, and it was thrilling to see just how big one of her pert globes was against the straw-haired head pressed against it.

"You know, if you want some milk you're more likely to get it from here..." she cooed, catching the youth's gaze and pressing her mouth to the tip of the stallionhood she was hugging.

Stiro was still just a tad shy and very eager to please, and Kyra was enjoying the fact that he was so suggestible. Manx was willing to let her take the lead whenever she wanted to but he was still a stallion, and a sentient one at that. Not exactly a pliable male. But her playful suggestion had been enough to make Stiro release her tit, his eyes focused on the stiff wet nipple for a moment before he moved his face to the spire nestled between her lush mounds. She felt a little flutter in her breasts (although it may he just been a throb of the studly spire laying against it) as she reached down, picking up the pale young man's hands and placing them on her breasts.

She had to press a little harder before he got the hint and started to massage and knead them in such a way that they would squeeze and wrap around the beast twitching between them. The beastly shaft Stiro's lips were brushing against as he worked his way up to the tip that Kyra was lavishing affections upon. And such pretty lips… she thought to herself once Stiro arrived at the subtly flared tip. Full and soft, and quite sensitive judging by the noises she'd coaxed from Stiro when giving him a gentle nibble. Everything about him suggested femininity, or something close enough. Everything until your attention fell to what was between his legs.

Guided by that thought, one of Kyra's hands slipped down, fingertips seeking what she knew was there. They didn't need to travel far before they encountered something hard, something that welcomed the touch with a twitch and a squirt, an unsubtle reminder that this wasn't a peculiar sort of maiden sharing a stallion with her. This was a male, hard and eager and proportioned generously enough to satisfy a woman who was used to a real stud.

As they both kissed along the rim and tip of Manx's shaft their lips would meet every now and again and their tongues would play with each other before they returned to servicing the reclining stallion. Stiro kept rubbing her breasts up and down the twitching spire, polishing it with the steed's juices as he lifted the hefty globes and let them slide down along the throbbing length. Meanwhile Kyra had her hand wrapped around his shaft but she made a point of keeping it still, apart from an occasional teasing squeeze. Just as she knew he would, the young man started thrusting into her grip, a reminder that she now had two eager males in need of release. Oh, the agony of choice...

Then again, it needn't be her choice. She remembered Manx claim that their initially unwelcome guest was tempting him to consider intimacy with another male. And the two boys had been close so far, but it was rather one-sided. Stiro was becoming an adept at the fine art of pleasing a stallion, and he seemed to genuinely enjoy the chance. Of course Kyra had let the waifish young man play the stud with her. It had been... different. She hadn't been with a human male since her first eager but anxious forays into sex. And memories of those encounters had surfaced since in spite of (or more correctly because of) Stiro's endowments his experience was quite limited. He was almost as clueless as the boys from her youth, but he was more generously endowed than men twice his size, and this time Kyra was anything about clueless about what goes where and what to do once it's in.

Manx had been happy to just watch the first time she'd laid on her back and opened her legs for the trembling male resting on top of her - a smooth, svelte body that had tricked her into forgetting just how masculine parts of it were. She had to admit she'd enjoyed it more than she expected. Kyra had experimented with women because she found femininity attractive, but a woman lacked something she knew she needed. Stiro was more beautiful than he was handsome, but he was man enough to make her thighs twitch and her toes curl, and turned out to have some pretty masculine instincts buried deep down. Of course it had taken some coaxing on her part to really get the best out of him. Melodic moans, an arched back and her hands pressed tight against his smooth rump, where she could exert some pressure if he got worried and tried to be gentle with her.

It was a testament to his skill that she'd gotten carried away enough to forget she was with a human male after years spent with a stallion. Even if Stiro had remembered to pull out, he wouldn't have stood a chance. By that time she was wrapped around her lithe lover, arms and legs locked around him, to say nothing of the grip she had on parts more intimate. He must have assumed that, as a responsible and experienced woman, she had taken precautions, and it was only after his round head had slipped from the embrace of her messy sex that she remembered that although less impressive than what Manx could give her, the young man's thick white load was perhaps more significant. It was embarrassing, but after doing the kind of math she hadn't done in ages she was reasonably sure she wouldn't end up bearing Stiro's child. And just in case, she'd had Manx mount her and flush anything that could cause her flat belly to swell up.

It had been a reminder that until she visited an apothecary for something responsible adults used to avoid issue, she had to be creative with the way she enjoyed her new playmate. If she ever did decide to give motherhood a try, she might very well look Stiro up and give him the honor of being her 'sire', but she didn't feel she was ready for that yet. The result of that decision was that the impressionable youth had been introduced to various kinds of sex that didn't carry the risk of pregnancy. And of course he was a great help with Manx.

Kyra was considering what to do next. On one hand it would be a thrill just to keep worshiping this length of stallion flesh along with the pretty youth, kissing the flare until it mushroomed up and sharing the stream of white stud-seed with Stiro. But she was also aware of the wet-patch she was leaving on the mighty steed's chest, and knew that it wasn't really her mouth that was thirsty for stallion-milk. So she'd just shoo Stiro off, mount her steed and let the young man join in any way he liked. She tactfully moved her mouth along the rim, closer to Stiro's until she had the scout in a deep kiss, one that she used to gently but firmly push his face away from the stallion's shaft.

"You don't mind, do you?" she asked, giving the flushed face a kiss and a wink before straddling her stallion the other way 'round. "And I know for a fact you don't mind..." she purred to Manx, catching both his eye and his leaky tip.

The contact between her lips and the blunt head of the stallion's shaft was electric, and Kyra forced herself to slow down and savor the thrill of taking her steed. There was that moment when her labia parted and formed the beginning of a seal, the feel of her delicate inner lips brushing against the warm equine flesh as a steady pressure forced her sex to dimple just before it yielded. Quivers and shudders followed the sublime sensation of a human passage embracing equine girth, a tightness that would have been distressful if not for the alchemical concoction developed a long time ago for the women of the Guild. It was still a tight fit, a grip so soft yet so firm she could feel the contours of the mighty rod perfectly as her body accepted it. She knew it was an impressive sight - a smooth, plump vertical slit suddenly forming an 'O', stretched to its limits as something thrillingly huge sunk deeper and deeper in. Even Kyra was awed every time she saw it happen even though it was something so familiar and so very welcome.

Manx was aware his rider and lover was taking her time, and wondered if she was doing it to savor the intense intimacy of this act, or if she was just being showy now that she had two pairs of eyes watching her do this. The second seemed quite likely since she was swaying her hips from left to right, not by much but just enough to make Stiro's eyes go wider. The view from back there would be an eyeful - Kyra's rear was round but with with enough muscle under the soft curves that it bounced instead of jiggling. He'd spent many a time kissing, nuzzling and playfully nibbling those cheeks and considered the dusky woman's rump every bit as enticing as any mare he'd had the honor to mate. Plus with Kyra he didn't run the risk of an immature female swatting him with her tail and coyly blaming it on reflex. On one hand he envied Stiro his view, but he wasn't sure he'd want to trade.

Kyra's eyes sparkled with playful lust, her full lips were panted and her glistening chest rising with each heavy breath. The progress downward was smooth and steady, and Manx could feel his nostrils flare as he was enveloped something tighter than even a filly. He was well-endowed, even for a stallion, but he still couldn't fill a mare the way he could the female even now sliding down on him. A female of his own species would be winking, her tunnel moving to stroke him even as he entered her. If Kyra's snug human sex could do that, he doubted he could ever last more than a minute. He could see that trim belly bulge a little, the hard surface quivering and clenching down on him every time it did. When she reached his medial ring she paused, holding his gaze before bucking her hips down and moaning out loud as the ring pushed in.

"Don't just stand there Stiro. Must be something back there that looks good..." Kyra husked, looking over her shoulder and wriggling her hips, drawing a snort from Manx when the motion caused every inch of feminine flesh gripping his shaft to rub against it. He could see Stiro get behind her and soon Kyra was sighing as the young human palmed her firm behind.

Instead of swivlening her hips from side to side, the dark-haired beauty was now moving therm back and forth, pulling up only enough to let the medial ring slip from the embrace of her taut lips before engulfing it again. Even with the serum Manx knew she wouldn't be able to go an inch or two further, since his blunt head was already pressed against the barrier to her womb. But it wouldn't really matter since by the time she was really into this she would be sliding up and down madly, letting only the head of his shaft stay in as the friction drove them both to and past the point of ecstasy.

Slowly but surely more of her body became involved in the movements. Her back would flex and arch and her shapely thighs grew taut, muscles visible under supple sun-tanned flesh as they lifted the woman off him before she slinked down. The more she moved the harder it seemed for Stiro to keep a grip on her bronze behind, and Manx was pleasantly surprised when those gentle palms instead settled on his swollen testes.

"Ooh, that's a good idea! Nice to see you boys playing together like that. Mnhhh, what do you think Manx? Won't make you go off to fast, will it?"

"The day I fail to satisfy you is the day I start pulling a haywain!" the stallion assured her, giving the snuggly-buried shaft a flex that drew a gasp from between those smirking lips.

"Mhhh, I'll hold you to that. You know Stiro, Manx has wondered for some time what it would be like to be with another male. Have you ever been curious?"

"Y-yes?" the youth admitted, pausing his fondling of Manx's sack in obvious confusion.

"What a coincidence! Well, if you were to take an opportunity to sate that curiosity, I'm sure Manx wouldn't mind, would he?" she asked, never slowing her rhythm as she flashed the stallion a smile.

"Not a bit..." he replied, rising to Kyra's obvious challenge but without any idea what it would entail.

"Good, because I'm looking at Stiro and he just looks painfully stiff. I'd bet he'd love to be doing something like you're doing, so..."

That had woken some suspicions, and when he felt something spongy yet hard poke against his pucker, the suspicions were confirmed. Kyra herself seemed to be curious, looking over her shoulder but never breaking her rhythm. Manx felt himself tense on reflex when he felt heat and a little bit of wetness back there, but Stiro didn't push further than that. The waifish young man just rubbed his head against the black distended ring, a curiously pleasant sensation that was working to relax the black stallion.

He was aware of the mess and wetness covering his ring, but the sensation of Stiro's tip was stirring a sort of curiosity within him. Kyra had stilled her rhythm, either to tease him or just because she was obviously hesitant to miss what was going on back there. He could feel the pressure slowly increasing, the human's tip now wedged just barely in his distended pucker, enough that the fluid leaking from it was now running deeper into Manx's body. Stiro gave another thrust and the stallion could feel his body put up a token of resistance before several inches of another male's shaft suddenly sunk into him.

"Ooohh! How does it feel?" Kyra asked, and by the way her cunny was pulsing around him he knew that she was enjoying what she saw.

"Strange, but..." Manx said, but stopped when words failed him.

It was strange in more ways than one. It was strange that he'd allowed a smaller, distinctly delicate male to mount him like this. It was also strange feeling anything, especially another male enter his body, to feel himself stretch and clench around something hard and warm. He could hear Stiro fighting for breath and he guessed that an equine pucker winking around his shaft felt as good as Kyra did. There was something pleasant, enough at least that he still felt sufficiently curious to let the smaller male continue. He gave his tail a quick flick, brushing against Stiro's knees to signal him to keep going.

The young man had barely gotten another inch in when the spongy tip struck something inside the stallions' body that had never been touched before. Manx had to fight the urge to kick out, his chest rumbling as his shaft flexed within Kyra's silken sex. He could hear Stiro groan and realize that his pucker was clenching hard on the young male's cock, twitching with every rapid beat of the stud's heart.

"What was that? Even I felt it..." Kyra said, and Manx knew she wasn't referring to their bond. The moment the thing inside him was touched his shaft had flexed and swelled within her, the flare mushrooming up for a second before settling down.

"I don't know... k-keep going..." the stallion said, sending the thoughts into both the humans' minds.

Kyra didn't need to be told twice before resuming the little dance she was doing on his shaft. Her back bent and her hips swayed, hands roaming her body to not only give Manx's shaft a nice rub but also to provide the stallion with a show. And after he'd relaxed enough he could feel Stiro resume what he was doing. The tip passed over... whatever it was that had made him feel like a cold clapping his belly for the first time. The long, slender shaft rubbed against the sensitive spot, and once the young man was hilted he began to withdraw. Feeling the cock slide from him was pleasant but unremarkable, unlike the youth's careful thrust back in.

Manx did his best not to clench down again, but he couldn't stop his pucker from pulsing around the flesh invading it, a reflex he suspected must look similar to what mares did when he mounted them. Every thrust grazed and stroked that sensitive spot and the stallion found himself surprised to realize he was enjoying this, suspecting that even if it wasn't enveloped in the silken tunnel of the dusky beauty looking down at him his shaft would be hard as a rock and squirting as his rear was bred by the elfin young man gasping behind both of them.

"You're really loving this?" Kyra asked, her breathy voice tinged with both surprise and curiosity.

"Yes!" Manx responded, knowing he couldn't lie to her even if he wanted to. He prided himself on his stamina but this was more intense than anything he'd felt since she'd first become his 'mare'.

Stiro was picking up his pace and the stallion wondered if the svelte human was also having trouble holding himself in check. The timid male was slamming his hips into Manx's rear, constantly bumping against the part of him that made his cock flex and his vision blur. When he felt soft palms settle on the two swollen orbs nestled between his hindlegs, the steed knew he was past the point of restraint. He whinnied as his climax struck him, his pucker clenching on reflex and stopping Stiro with his shaft almost hilted. His ears filled with the sound of his heart beating, and the gasps of the young scout barely cut through the heavy thumps. He felt the flow of seed into him just as his own shaft erupted against Kyra's cervix, the dusky woman crying out as she draped herself over him. His own shaft was still pumping within Kyra's quivering tunnel when Stiro grew soft and slipped out of him, followed by the strange new sensation of seed leaking from under his tail.

"That good, huh?" Kyra asked, her sex still refusing to surrender the flare oozing inside it.

"That good..." he replied.

"Hey Stiro, how soon do you think you'd be ready to go again?" she asked, turning around towards the young man and winking as she pulled one pale cheek aside...

*******

"Well, there it is. Back to civilization at last..." Kyra said as the city's walls came inot sight ahead of them.

"Mhh..." Stiro murmured.

"Not happy to be back home?" came the question from the stallion carrying them.

"To tell the truth it isn't really. Just the latest place I came, trying to find somewhere I fit in. This last week or so... it's the first time I felt like I belonged in a long time. So I guess I feel kind of like I'm leaving home..."

"Well, give it a chance. Won't be easy, but you might take to the place yet. And if not, you know where the Guild's stables are. You're welcome to visit anytime you need some people as weird as you to fit in with..." Kyra said, giving the svelte young man's waist a little squeeze as she kissed his neck.