The Cowboy Way

Kieran didn't struggle to locate his father when he entered the arrivals hall. His huge sire stood towards the back of the expectant crowds, towering over everyone around him: a mountain of stallion in a field of chattering stalks. The young stallion stopped in his tracks at the sight of the tall horse's wide, brown face, staring in near-disbelief. It was him. He was right there. Really there. The horse felt a sort of pain in his chest: the uncoiling of a tensed-up spring that he'd carried with him ever since that day, three years before, when he'd said goodbye to his father in this very spot. He'd become so used to that tension that its absence now felt like pain...but it was simply relief. He was free.

The draft stallion still looked exactly as Kieran saw him in his mind's eye, most every night. The big male was gazing at the second exit, on the far side of the room, his short ears perked attentively towards it. He hadn't yet looked over to where his son now stood. Kieran tightened his grip on his luggage, and took a few steps towards him -- but then paused. As the relief of dissipated tension buoyed his mood, he began to feel giddy. Naughty, even. Before his father had a chance to look around and see him, he slipped to one side and began circling around the crowds, approaching his sire from behind. The tall male was paying no attention to the surrounding people, and Kieran was able to get right behind him without being noticed.

Twenty yards away. Ten.

His father was wearing faded jeans -- probably a pair he'd had since before his son left -- and Kieran stared at the firm mounds of horse ass they framed, swallowing the drool that filled his mouth and feeling his cock begin to harden further. He'd had a semi ever since the plane began its descent to the airport; Dad's ass was pushing that closer to "excuse me, sir, but could you put that away before you take out someone's eye" territory. Fuck. He'd missed his father so much.

Releasing his luggage, he stepped closer carefully, keeping his footsteps light, now barely an inch away from his sire -- and then slid his arms around him in one smooth motion, simultaneously squeezing against the thick body, nuzzling his head across the back of his father's neck, and allowing his crotch to rest against his ass. He was a foot shorter than the almost seven-foot draft, letting him fit perfectly against him in this position. Kieran felt his father's body stiffen at the unexpected contact -- and then relax when he realised who it was. He felt his father's chest expand as he took in a huge breath, and then expel it with a shudder, making Kieran's entire body shake.

"Gave me a little fright there, Kit," his father said, a tremor in his voice betraying the powerful emotions behind. The sound of him -- right next to him, right in front of him, he was here, he was real -- made Kieran choke with a half-laugh, half-sob; his arms tightened, and he pushed his face hard into his father's back, letting the shirt absorb his tears.

Dad never called him by his given name. He'd been Kit since he was a foal; apparently, he'd struggled to say his own name, and Dad had found it so charming, he'd adopted it. Kieran didn't mind; his father's voice was calm and mellow, and every word he ever said to him was soaked with affection. He could have wanted to call Kieran "Trashcan", and it would have been fine. In fact, the only time the younger stallion could remember his father using his real name was...well, the day when everything had changed.

"Sorry, Dad," Kieran replied, half-muffled in the folds of his father's shirt. His arms tightened a little more, and his hands squeezed the firm flesh under them. "You smell so good, Dad," he sighed, pure happiness bursting through him like the warmth of a rising sun. He smelled of hay, and dust, and the fierce, musky scent of hardworking stallion sweat. He smelled like...home. Because he was home. "I missed you so much, Dad..."

"I missed you too, Kit," his father said, and the tremor in his voice almost broke it now. "So, so, so much...my boy, my beautiful son...so...so pr--" The words twisted into a gulp and a shuddering breath. "So...proud of you, Kit...missed you so much..."

Kieran's tears burst from him as if from a mountain spring: fresh and pure. He wept for the years they'd spent apart, but also the years they could now spend together. He could see them in his mind's eye: the procession of time, year upon year, with him and his father side by side in all of them. Never apart again. He wanted his father to know that, but it was too much to express. He managed a blubbery, "I'm home, Dad, I'm home," and then fell into more tears. But his father understood.

"Yes. Yes." His father's grip on him was unbreakable. "You are. You're home, son. Home with me. You and me." He could feel his father's own sobs of happiness through the heaving of his body, and as they both wept for the pleasure of being together again, his heart grew and grew until he thought it might explode. Everything was perfect.

He could feel his father's bulk and heat all around him. The emotional reunion had filled his heart with irrepressible joy, but it had done nothing to dampen his ardour. His hard cock pressed up against that fine, firm rear; he wanted to do nothing so much as slide his hands down into his sire's pants and grope him, stroke him, squeeze him until he grew wet and hard and ready for playtime. He'd dreamed of it, night after night, as he'd touched himself and whispered his father's name. "I don't wanna wait to get home, Dad," he said huskily. He pushed his crotch forward a little more, in case his father had missed the hot mass of horse prick pushing up against him. "I need this. I need you. Let's find a bathroom..." He paused, remembering one fragment of the grand speech he'd practiced and then completely forgotten the second he saw his sire. "It's time to turn around, Dad."

But then his father did, and Kieran's tearful grin faded when he saw the sombre expression on the tall equine's face, streaked by his tears. "What's...what's wrong, Dad?" he said fearfully, his heart falling. His father's mouth opened, but he seemed unable to speak. What was this? No, no, no. Kieran's mind instantly began to invent horrible scenarios that might have happened. The cattle were sick. Dad was in debt again. Something was wrong with the farm. Oh, fuck...maybe Dad was sick. Oh, God, please, not that...

But then his father's eyes flickered up, looking behind him, and two huge hands fell onto his shoulders with a thump. "Kirry!" a mature voice bellowed, and Kieran spun around in shock. His still-watery eyes looked up into the face of a huge, grinning zebra who was running his eyes up and down the stallion's body. "Well shit," the stranger exclaimed, "look how big you've gotten, bud!" Kieran stared at him in blinking disbelief, and the striped equine chuckled at his expression.

"Don't remember me?" he asked. His accent was an odd mix of east and west coast drawls, as if he'd grown up on two different farms, ten thousand miles apart. "Can't blame ya. How old was he the last time I saw him, Tristan?" he asked, addressing Kieran's father.

"Um...not sure." Tristan sounded calm, but oddly restrained. Kieran shot him a confused look -- what the fuck, Dad? -- **before the zebra grabbed his attention again by dropping a hand on his shoulder.

"Well, was a good while ago, anyway." The zebra beamed. He glanced between their faces, finally noticing the tear-streaks down their facial hair. "Emotional reunion, huh?" The hand squeezed familiarly. "Your dad's real glad to have you back, bud. He's been talking about you for days. And it's awesome to see you again myself."

Kieran stood stock still, half in shock and at a complete loss. Who in the fucking fuck was this? If it hadn't been obvious that Dad knew the guy, he'd have ripped the familiar hand off his shoulder and told the boorish zebra he'd made a big mistake. When the fuck had he met this guy? He racked his brain. Not from school -- high school, at least. And not while he was studying; the zebra was clearly also a rancher from his clothes and smell and sound. A random event? A party? He seemed far too familiar for that.

The zebra watched the thoughts flickering across his face with a wide, gormless grin. "You really don't remember, huh?"

If I did, I'd fucking say so, idiot, he thought. But Dad had taught him better than to say it out loud. Instead, he gave a wan smile and slowly shook his head. "Afraid I don't. Care to remind me?"

The zebra let him go, crossing his arms and tapping one hoof against the airport linoleum in amusement. "One more try. Sleepovers...toffee apples...Kit and Chet and Axel..."

Kit and Chet and Axel. It was as if he'd walked past a door in his mind countless times -- but never opened it. Those words turned the handle for him, and memories came flooding out. Three young equines, and all the world to explore. Adventures and misadventures and summer days that never ended. Friendships strong as family, and a striped adult who kept an eye on them...

"...Uncle Felix?" he said incredulously.

When he was very young -- shortly after his mother died -- his father had befriended another rancher: a zebra that lived nearby. Felix Berg. Tristan was never especially sociable, but Kieran only realised that years later -- about the same time he realised that Dad must have done it solely to ensure he had a couple of playmates his own age. Their ranch was deep in the countryside, far from other people, and while a farm held plenty of fun distractions for a growing colt, his father must have believed that he needed peers as well. So, one day, he'd been introduced to Chet and Axel, the mismatched sons of the lusty zebra Felix. Chet's mother had been a donkey, and Axel's a horse; neither of them was in the picture anymore. That hadn't seemed so strange to Kieran -- not having a mother himself either -- and the three young boys had bonded rapidly and intensely. With no blood between the families, the fathers had nonetheless become Uncle Felix and Uncle Tristan.

The boys had done everything there was to do together. They'd explored every inch of both their ranches; in retrospect, Kieran thought, it had probably been incredibly risky to let three unsupervised children roam a cattle ranch, but they'd loved it. No number of cuts, scrapes, bruises -- or even a fractured arm, after a particularly aggressive game of "who can push Chet the highest in a swing tyre" -- had stopped them. They'd harangue one father or another to let them sleep over at one another's homes, or to drive them to places.

Felix had been the one who'd taken them to the fair whenever it was in town; Kieran's father had found the rides nauseating. The fair had been the young colt's absolute favourite. The rides were thrilling, the lights and sounds and smells were dazzlingly distracting, and he'd gotten to spend all day with his best friends in the world. And, best of all, if they were well-behaved -- which had to be a fairly broad measurement each time, given what naughty little shits they'd been -- they'd each get an entire toffee apple at the end of the day, just as they were leaving. Those sticky, shiny treats had seemed to the young horse to be the height of delectation. Three sets of equine teeth would crunch away happily in the car on the way home, with Kieran sandwiched in between his two friends. In the driving seat, Uncle Felix would have one elbow sticking out of the lowered window, a pair of sunglasses on, and rock music playing on the radio. He'd hum along to it and occasionally look over his shoulder at his sons and their friend with a paternal smile as they annihilated the sweets. It had seemed to Kieran that that was how life was, and always would be. Simple and wonderful.

And then the Bergs had moved, and his friends were gone.

Years later, it had made sense. Ranching was volatile, dependent on cattle prices; if there was a bad year, entire farms could go under. For Uncle Felix, though, it had been the opposite: an offer he couldn't turn down on his property. With two growing boys to support and their futures to consider, he'd done the smart thing: taken the money, and moved across the country. One day, Kieran had had two friends he adored -- and the next, he'd only had his dad. He'd cried for days.

But children are nothing if not resilient, and on top of that, his father had made sure he was there to fill the gap and ease his sadness. After a few weeks, it didn't hurt so much anymore. He'd liked spending time with his father. It was as if the tall, stoic stallion had taken it upon himself to not only fill the gap left by his son's mother, but also the friends he'd lost. He'd invented Kit Days: one day every two weeks. He and his son would spend the entire day together, doing whatever Kieran wished. Usually a Saturday; Dad would make sure he was free, and he'd tell Kit in advance. And when the lucky day arrived, whoever woke first that morning would bound into the other's bedroom and jump on the bed until the other awoke. Then they'd crawl in under the blankets, and -- no matter whose room it was -- Dad would wrap his arms around him, and nuzzle against his neck.

"What do you want to do today, Kit?" he'd ask, his warm breath tickling the colt's ear. And Kieran would squeal with excitement, and Dad would hug him closer, and the young stallion knew he had the best father in the entire world.

As Kieran stared at the grinning zebra, he realised he'd forgotten the origin of Kit Days. They'd become the best part of his early life, and the memories of their beginning had faded away. Chet and Axel and Uncle Felix had been forgotten: replaced with the infinitely warm, tight arms of his father. Twice a month, without fail, from the time the Bergs moved, until...until the last Kit Day, a few months before he'd left. The day they changed into something else.

The zebra was looking back at him with a huge grin. "Just Felix now, I think, bud," he said with a nicker. He looked shorter than the horse remembered, but that was probably merely Kieran's fractured childhood memories of a tall, striped adult. He looked older, too; wrinkles showed in the dark skin around his eyes. "That took a while, huh?"

"It was...so long ago," Kieran said. Almost two decades. Shit. "How...how are you?" he asked. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm good, bud, yeah, pretty good," the equine said, nodding along to his own words. He didn't answer the second question though, looking over at Kieran's father instead. The young stallion followed his eyes. Now he recognised the expression on Dad's face: embarrassment. The taller horse cleared his throat.

"Felix...dropped by for a visit," he said. One hand rubbed along his thigh, the way it did when he was uncomfortable. He met his son's eyes a few times, but kept glancing away. "We were chatting, and I mentioned you were coming home, and how we're going out riding for a few days to..."

"--to get your riding muscles back!" Felix finished. He slapped Kieran's side playfully. "Bet you've gone soft from all that studying. We gotta get you back on a horse, bud! Show us old fogeys how a young stallion rides!"

Kieran ignored him. His father's eyes were apologising to him. "So," Tristan finished saying, "Felix and the others are gonna join us for a few days, for the ride. Then they're heading home."

"U...huh," Kieran said slowly, processing the news. His father looked away and shuffled his hooves. The crowd bustled and murmured around them.

"I mean -- if it's fine with you?" Felix asked after a few seconds. Kieran turned back to look at him. "I know you haven't seen your dad in a while and all," the zebra added, "but we'll be out of your mane in no time. And the boys are so keen to see you again. And we all wanna hear about what you've been up to. Your dad's real proud of what you've achieved. You should see how he puffs up when he talks about it."

If it was fine with him. If it was fine with him.

Well, gee, what would be mighty fine would be to get Dad home, and rip all his fucking clothes off with my teeth, and shove his gorgeous fat prick so deep down my throat I can't breathe, and fuck his ass all fucking night until he can't even fucking talk anymore and the entire house stinks of sex and cum, and then fall asleep with my dick softening inside him because we haven't fucked in three fucking years...

But that wasn't how Dad had raised him. You didn't mistreat guests, and you didn't turn them away after you'd invited them to stay. That wasn't how you did things out in the country. So, Kieran smiled, and pushed his horniness to the side.

"Of course, Felix. You're welcome to join. It'll be good catching up, you're right." He'd just have to find time to get his father alone for a little fun. The zebra had clearly blindsided his father by arriving out of the blue, and the horse hadn't been able to say no to his old friend. Kieran wasn't going to sour things for all of them by being an unaccommodating dick mere minutes after arriving home. It was only a few days, after all. He could last a few more days.

Probably.

Something else the zebra had said registered with him. "Did you say that the boys are here too?" he asked. Felix nodded rapidly, turning and pushed himself up onto his hooftips, looking over the heads of the crowd before spotting someone and waving at them, gesturing them closer. A few moments later, two figures pushed past a gaggle of tourists: a zonkey, and a zorse.

Chet and Axel looked nothing like he remembered -- and, apparently, neither did he. "Woa!" Chet said, staring at the horse with what looked like admiration. "Kieran! Look at you, bro!" The zonkey's voice had a thick twang to it, far stronger and more west coast than his father's, He might never have stepped foot outside a farm a day in his life. "Shit, you got big!"

Kieran didn't know what to say to that. "Yeah, it, uh...just kept happening," he managed, still dumbfounded by the sight of the two zebroids. His faded memories only recalled two fat, striped little bodies; nothing at all like the confident, handsome males standing before him now. He couldn't begin to enumerate what had changed. For a start, Chet was big. Really big. The zonkey's broad chest strained the seams on his shirt, and thick thighs held up a body built for contact sports. Nipples like dimes stood out clearly against his white shirt, and with his long ears, striped face, and pale cream neck, he looked like a younger version of his father. Axel, by contrast, was taller -- although only by an inch or two -- and a lot leaner. He looked as if he might have stepped off a fashion runway. His tight shirt showed the curves of a finely curated six-pack, and his arms were perfection. His face was lean, but not angular, with his cheekbones peeking out below his friendly eyes...and he was holding a stuffed lion toy. For some reason.

After a couple seconds of silence, Kieran's dad stepped closer. "They've changed, huh?" he said with a hint of a smile. Kieran shot him a look; certain his father was thinking the same thing. Yeah -- they've changed into two hot fucking studs.

"I...yeah. Sorry! Sorry, guys," he said, shaking his head. An image of a fat zonkey nipple drifted through his mind. "This is just...unexpected. Haven't thought about you in ages...and here you are. All of you...at the airport...just, uh, as I get home..."

"Saaaame," Axel said, sticking a half-eaten ice pop into his mouth. His tongue curled around the lolly, sucking off the liquid noisily. Blue colouring streaked the long pink muscle. "We're taking a couple weeks off. Just finished a harvest back home. What you been up to, man?" His voice was more metropolitan, lacking the farmer drawl his father and brother had. Kieran wondered how that had happened.

"Uh...well, I just finished studying..." he began, but Felix patted him on the back to interrupt him.

"Sorry, Kieran. Don't worry." He shot a look at his son. "There's time for that later, Axel," Felix said gruffly to his son. He reached down to grab Kieran's bags -- hefting both as easily as if they were empty -- and smiled understandingly at Kieran. "Poor guy just landed. Let's head home first, let him get rested and cleaned up. Lots of time for questions later."

Kieran had all but forgotten that they stood in an airport. As they made their way towards the terminal exit, he tried to sound casual as he asked, "So, uh, why'd you all come down here? To the airport, I mean." He'd only expected his father -- because who the fuck would also expect their childhood friends and their father to appear?

Felix answered him. "Well, Axel wanted to get a souvenir that for no reason they only sell in airports"--the zorse raised his stuffed lion toy, and squeezed it; it made a tinny growling noise--"and then Chet thought he'd tag along, and I figured, well, might as well tag along too, ya know? Since it's been so long and all."

"Okay, yeah." Not a ton of social awareness, then. They chatted a little more as they walked, and as soon as their guests were speaking amongst themselves, Kieran drifted to one side, closer to his father. He glanced at the others, but they didn't seem to be paying the two horses any attention. "Dad," he murmured, glancing over to make sure his father heard him. "When are we gonna fuck now?"

His father looked agonised. He wants it just as badly as I do. "I...we gotta...um, wait..."

Kieran wanted to stick his tongue down his father's throat. "I can't wait, Dad," he huffed. "I watched your videos on the way here. I need you. I need that ass." He glanced around and risked grabbing his father's ass, making Tristan jump. "My dick wants your ass, stud," he growled. "And my hole wants Daddy's horsecock."

His father bit his lip so hard, it seemed he might draw blood. "We gotta wait, Kit," was all he could say, though. Fuuuuuck! Waiting was torturous. He could see his dad, smell him, pat his back or arm. But what he wanted to do was to swing his leg across him, shove that big stallion prick up inside himself, and ride him to an explosive, messy finish. Was that so much to ask?

His aching balls throbbed their agreement.

When they reached the car, Kieran made for the front door. He wasn't in the best mood; visitor privilege notwithstanding, the unexpected guests could all sit in the back. He wanted to be next to his dad. But Felix stepped up with a sheepish grin.

"Sorry, bud." He kept apologising for things, but he had no idea about the fucking zebra-shaped spanner he'd thrown into Kieran's plans. The young stallion forcibly unclenched his teeth. "My leg's been giving me trouble," Felix explained, grimacing slightly. "Can't bend it too well. Mind if I take the front?"

Yes, I fucking mind. "Oh, that sucks. Yeah, yeah, no problem." The back door was already open, and Axel was standing to one side. Chet had already climbed into the other side, and Kieran nodded distracted thanks to the zorse and climbed in, sliding over to the middle of the seat. The zorse climbed in after him, and the door slammed shut.

"Everyone in?" Felix asked, turning to look back at the three younger equines. Kieran felt a little sandwiched between the two striped studs, with Chet's mass moulding against him on one side, and Axel's lean hardness on the other. The closeness of their bodies was doing nothing for his frustrations, either: he wanted his father, but his dick was happy to get excited about any sexually promising male in a fifteen-mile radius. He coughed, crossing his hands casually over his lap and letting the two brothers chime in with confirmation. The car's engine guttered to life, and they headed out, catching the off-ramp outside the airport that would take them -- after a couple of hours -- to the horse's ranch.

The brothers seemed to sense that Kieran wasn't in the most talkative mood, and stared in silence out of their respective windows as Felix chatted to Tristan about something or other. Thank fuck for that. Kieran needed a moment to himself to try to figure out exactly what the fuck he was going to do...because these well-meaning striped morons had inadvertently taken a huge shit on his plans for the next few days.

The most pressing issue was the dull ache in his crotch. He'd deliberately held off on playing with himself for almost two weeks, expecting to be able to jump his father's sexy body almost immediately after landing and relieve the pressure with an unforgettably explosive welcome-home fuck. That hadn't happened. Obviously. And now, not only was he still backed up with a case of blue-balling so strong that paint companies would probably be contacting him to take samples, but he was stuck in a car for two hours in between two attractive males, with his impossibly gorgeous father right in his line of sight for a touch of additional sexual torture. It was high school French with Monsieur Bernard all over again.

Thinking about the brothers -- even in annoyance -- only made his crotch situation worse. They were really close to him, and neither of them wore aftershave or deodorant. The horse was surprised to find that he could distinguish their scents; he'd have expected two farm-working equines to smell pretty much the same. Axel smelled earthy and erotic; his scent put Kieran in mind of the literal rolls in the hay he'd had in his later high school years. His brother had more of a gym scent, of manly exertions and testosterone-filled grunts behind locker rooms; another favourite memory of the horse. Shit. The brothers would have been his high school dreams back in the day, it seemed. Bet they looked even better naked.

Fuck. No. Stop thinking.

The two brothers were still looking out of the windows, seemingly unconcerned with conversation, and Kieran dared to turn his head a little to either side and run his eyes up and down both of them. Chet's crotch caught his eye with a bulge that looked obscene even through his jeans. It couldn't be his dick, or he'd have to be half-dropped. The horse had heard once that donkeys had especially large sheaths, for whatever reason; it seemed Chet's mother had dutifully passed that gene along to her son. Shit...but if that was merely his sheath, how big was his dick?

His crotch throbbed and complained at him.

Looking at Axel was just as pleasant. The zorse was incredibly fit, and Kieran silently applauded his dedication and gym regimen. It took a lot of work to look like that, even if you had the free workout that farm work amounted to. All his muscles were wonderfully proportioned, but it was still his arms that made the horse's nostrils flare the most. Those stevedore arms looked like the finest things in the world to have wrapped around you: their strength supporting you as their owner's cock slid smoothly in and out of you, and you stared up into his eyes and made happy, slutty noises.

But the real joke was...as horny as he was, as desperate to dick something as he felt, he didn't want them. Either of them. They were hot, no doubt, and they'd probably be fun as fuck in bed, but...they were just pretty boys when it came down to it. A dime a dozen in farm country. Sun, fresh air and hard work bred them like flies. No. He didn't simply want pretty. He wanted his dad. The soft-voiced, broad-shouldered stallion who sat right there in the driver's seat, right in front of him. At last.

Three years he'd been away from him, stuck on a campus they couldn't afford to fly him back from, working hard to make sure he didn't fail. He couldn't let his dad down. The farm's debt was endless, and while his father made light of it during his final year of school, the horse knew that paying for his studies was going to put his father into an extremely precarious position. If anything unexpected happened -- a sudden outbreak of disease, a wobble in the market -- it could spell the end of the ranch. That was why he'd picked the major he had. He wanted to come home again, and help his dad turn the farm into an asset, not a liability. He wanted to free his father from that constant nervous worry of what if, what if.

He wanted his father to be happy. Nothing more complex than that.

He'd been the one to suggest that they save money by not flying him home twice a year. He felt a small frog in his throat as he recalled how his father had wept into his neck, holding him so tightly that he almost couldn't breathe, alternately telling him he couldn't be without him, and thanking him for his sacrifice. That one memory had carried him through the darkest times while he was away. Whenever he started feeling overwhelmed, or was afraid he couldn't get through it all, he'd remember that day. Only three years. Three short years and he'd be home, qualified and able to contribute more than just his muscles to the running of the ranch, and he and Dad could finally begin the rest of their lives together...

Dad. He looked at him now. The tall stallion was listening to something Felix was saying, his head nodding gently. His big hands rested gently on the wheel, guiding the car as effortlessly and carefully as he did most anything. He was so beautiful; Kieran's heart ached to behold him. His father's brown muzzle had a lighter splotch right at the end, around his nose, that made it look as if he'd dipped his whole muzzle into a cappuccino. Kieran used to stare at that splotch after they'd finished fucking, with his father's sweaty bulk hanging above him, snorting, huge and wonderful. He used to reach up with one hand and tug the muzzle down, and kiss the tip of that lovely nose with gentle lips. Then Dad would sigh, and kiss him back, and slowly lower himself onto his son, his weight pressing him down, down, into the warm hay beneath them, with only the stars above to see. Kieran would wrap his arms around his father -- he couldn't even make his fingers touch, his back was so broad -- and grip him tight, and drift away, as happy as any horse could be.

At the airport earlier, he'd told himself he could last a few more days, but now he wasn't sure that was true. It had simply taken a little time to sink in. He was home. With Dad. For good! No more classes, no more late nights of study to make sure he'd really understood the material, no more tutoring annoying freshmen to make a couple extra bucks so he wouldn't have to ask Dad for more money that month. He was really, really here...and all he wanted was to get his hands on the body he'd only seen through screens for the last thirty-six months.

In exchange for his not coming home for three years, Dad had made him a promise: biweekly phone calls. That had escalated within a month to online video when neither of them could bear to not see one another anymore. Dad had had to upgrade the line back home to support the bandwidth, but it had been worth it. It had been hard the first few weeks: really fucking hard. The tears had flowed freely and frequently, and Kieran had had attacks of anxiety that had come close to making him doubt everything he was trying to do. Dad needed him! The way he tried to sound so calm and in control, but was betrayed by the constant quaver in his voice. The way he'd always try to say goodbye and end the call before the tears turned into full-on sobs. The way he stroked the screen, his face bent at that slight angle he always used when he looked at something he enjoyed. It had ripped at the stallion's very soul, but the one time he brought it up, Dad had simply shaken his head.

"This is nothing, son," he'd said softly, his voice a salve to Kieran's pain. "This is an eye-blink. It's already over -- we just don't know it yet. You're gonna turn around one day, and realise you're looking back at three years, and I'm gonna be standing there, and it will be like it never happened." He'd snapped his fingers, and smiled. "Just like that. And then it'll only be you and me, y'hear? Like we said. So, don't feel bad, all right? You're too smart and beautiful for that. Don't be sad for now: be happy for the day you turn around."

Fuck. He loved that big beautiful horse so fucking much it hurt.

They'd adapted. Their distance had become the new normal, and they'd found ways to reduce the pain of their separation. Well, one specific way: exchanging nudes. The first time he'd flashed his dick at his dad over the camera, the older horse had looked scandalised. "What if the Internet sees?" he'd asked, and Kieran had assured him the Internet was not spying on them -- and then asked slyly if his father would like it if they did. His expression had been priceless. Kieran had continued to show off, and when he'd turned around from sending a close-up of his asshole, he'd found his father -- dick in hand -- staring at him.

"Daddy likes it when you show off for him," he'd said, and Kieran had nearly cum on the spot. He'd done everything he could think of to show off more -- the sight of his furiously masturbating father better than any aphrodisiac -- until his father had grunted that he was close, and he'd thumped into his chair and grabbed his own dick and pulled himself off as quickly as he could. Dad had groaned, and his head had fallen back, and his gorgeous black flare had spat its creamy load all over his nude chest. Kieran's had followed suit.

After that first time, his father had turned into a bigger exhibitionist than his son could have imagined. Something about showing off -- or being watched at a distance -- really did it for the stallion. He was constantly looking for ways to keep things interesting. One of the very first things he'd decided was that the laptop camera didn't only add ten pounds, it also added a keg and two tree trunks. He wanted to look good on the screen for his boy. He was gonna work out, properly, and turn his general farm strength into hot, visible muscle. "I'm gonna be a stud, son," he'd say, "for when you get back." Kieran would tell him he was already a stud, but that was simply for a little ego boost. His father seemed to have fixed on determined exercise as one of his coping mechanisms for being apart from his son, and Kieran was more than happy to encourage it. If it made his father happy and gave him something to fill his time, he'd never do anything to take that away from him.

Kieran still had a hard drive with every single porn chat they'd ever had. He'd revisited it so many times, it was a wonder the thing hadn't died. A few days before he flew home, he'd been looking through it, and he'd compared the very first video to the very newest. The difference was remarkable; seeing it happening slowly, week by week, hadn't had the same impact as comparing three-years-ago Dad -- tall, but bulky, with a big belly and heavy legs -- with new, cockfuel Dad. The belly had tightened up into a muscle gut, and the legs had turned hard and rippled. His wide chest was like one solid muscle, and his ass...holy fucking shit. Michelangelo would have wept to behold it. Kieran's dick certainly did.

His eyes dropped to that ass now. He could only see part of it, but it looked tight and eminently fuckable. It had been amazing before...he couldn't begin to imagine how good it would feel now. He couldn't wait to get into it. Driving his dick into his father's hole, feeling his tight muscles pressing into his flesh, slapping those buttocks with a palm to hear the slap...he adjusted one leg to let his thickening cock slip down a bit, and glanced guiltily at the males to either side. This really wasn't the time to be reliving memories like this...but nobody was paying attention to him. And he was so. Fucking. Horny.

His favourite video of all had been all about that ass. It had only been a week or two before. Maybe Dad had been extra turned on, excited that his son would soon be coming home. Right after the chat began, he'd told his son to hang on, and vanished off-screen. A couple minutes later, the jingle of spurs had become audible -- and then two leather-clad legs came into view. The material was skin-tight, and cut away around the crotch to expose as much skin as possible, while still leaving the genitals covered. When he'd turned, Kieran saw that the back of the legs was laced up, but his father's ass was exposed. He'd only gotten a glimpse before Dad turned back, and sat down on the edge of the bed with a thump.

"Like what you see, pardner?" he'd said, affecting the most stereotypical rancher accent imaginable. He'd had a leather jacket on, too, but it had hung open in front, showing off his body.

Kieran's dick had been out of his pants in seconds.

"Shore do, pops," he'd replied, in character. That had made Dad chuckle, and he'd spread his legs wide, making the bulge between his legs press tightly against the thin leather pouch that held it. One of his hands had slid over a thigh and grabbed the bulge, groping and squeezing it in a way that had made Kieran groan extra-loud, so that his father could hear. His dick had somehow gone from rock-hard to even harder. Rockier hardier? Whatever. Dad's hot body in a naughty cowboy outfit meant buttons were pressed. And when his father lifted one hoof to rest it on the bed, and worked lazily at the knots of the crotch-holder until it came loose, and his swollen, half-hard horsecock spilled out across the bedspread like every wet dream the horny young stallion had ever had...Kieran had sworn out loud.

"Oh, ffffuuuuck, Dad...!"

His father had grinned, but not replied, and groped himself further; dragging his dick back and forth across the bed covers and letting the near-constant stream of pre-cum leave a silvery trail behind it. It had been mesmerising -- but when Dad had suddenly got up, turned around, and gotten on all fours, Kieran had had to let go of his dick for fear of ruining his laptop with screen-shattering orgasm.

Tristan's legs were laced up behind with leather ties, as he'd seen, but his ass was entirely exposed. With his legs spread wide, his erect cock hung down between them like a long, thick ebony sceptre. The prize gem nestled above it: a crimson doughnut, flexing open and shut like a tease. Dad had already lifted his tail high, but he'd reached back with a hand to tug it even higher, making the skin pull taut and smooth. Hiding absolutely nothing from his son.

"I got a real problem here, pardner," he'd said huskily. "Got me this here ass, and nobody around to fill it." He'd let his tail go, and the fingers had slid down to rub over his doughnut. "Us farm horses are hungry buggers," he'd continued. "We need a feeding every day." And Kieran had had to bite down on a knuckle when he saw his father push inside himself with one thick finger. There was no faking the pleasure-moan that echoed from his speakers. "And I'm real hungry, pardner," his father had said, words half-breathed, half-spoken, and soaked with lust. "I need it real bad. Need a hot young stud to get right up in here...and feed me his load." A second finger had joined the first, and Kieran's dick -- sticking up from his crotch like the bluntest rocket ever made -- had jerked and squirted a glob of pre-cum out. He'd grabbed himself with both hands, wetting them with the pre-cum and jerking off with wild abandon, eyes locked to the sight of his stud cowboy father finger-fucking himself and moaning like a slut. It had only taken Kieran a few moments to get to the edge, and just as he felt his balls rising up...

A soft elbowing in his side made him jerk awake, and he snapped out of his daydream. Disoriented, the horse turned to blink at Chet, who smirked at him and nodded at the horse's crotch. "Long flight, huh?" he said softly.

Kieran blinked emptily at him, then followed his gaze. A small wet spot was forming on the front of his pants, and he gasped and closed his legs, trying to hide it. Chet sniggered. "I get ya," he told the horse, patting his leg. "I gotta give my guy action a couple times a day, or he gets real antsy. You wouldn't believe the mark this bastard leaves on boxers." He groped himself, and Kieran stared, wide-eyed, before catching himself and looking away. That only made Chet chuckle louder, and Felix turned to look back at him.

"You boys doin' alright back there?" he asked, and Kieran nodded briskly.

"Suuuuure are, Pop!" Chet said brightly. "Was just asking Kit how the flight was." A dramatic pause. "Long, he says." A laugh rippled through the car.

"Yeah...bet it was," the zebra said. "Last one for a while, though, huh? Bet you're glad to be home. Your Dad was telling me yesterday about how long it's been. I'm really impressed. What'd you do to not get homesick?"

Dad's thick fingers, pushing so deep, stretching himself wide, begging Kieran to fuck him...

"Oh," Kieran said, "you know. You find ways."

The zebra nodded. "Well, maybe you could teach some of those ways to these two lazy bums"--he reached a hand out to slap Axel's leg, startling the zorse to attention--"so they don't keep coming back home to make me feed `em and do their laundry!"

"Aw, but pops," Chet said cheekily, "we gotta make sure you ain't fallen in the shower and broken a hip or something." He paused dramatically. "`cos you're old."

Another laugh ran around the inside of the car, and Kieran had to smile at the banter. Then Felix's eyes locked on to him, a lopsided grin still on his face. "So, your dad says you studied ranching, huh?" he asked the horse.

Kieran nodded. "Uhuh. Well, um, kinda," he instantly corrected himself. "There's no degree in that, exactly. I did business management, focusing on..." He trailed off. "Uh, boring stuff. Doesn't matter. Ranching, basically. Yeah. Heh."

Felix looked impressed. "You got a pair of stones on you, bud. Not a lot of brains in the ranching business. Lotta muscleheads out there that think you just gotta not let all yer animals die, and that's it." He nodded in satisfaction. "Can't wait to see what you can do for the old place. I think you'll do your dad proud."

"He already has," his father said, reaching a hand back to pat his son's knee. Kieran blushed, and the other equines laughed with delight at his embarrassment. On the plus side, the chatter was distracting him from his pants problem.

The rest of the journey passed in pleasant-enough conversation. Felix and his sons caught the horses up on what they'd done in the decades since they left, and Kieran filled them in on what had been happening on this side of the country -- with a few strategic omissions. The zebra, it turned out, had used the funds from the sale of his ranch to simply buy a larger one out west, where land was cheaper. He'd grown his staff in tandem with his ambitions, and ensured his sons knew everything they needed to make their way in the business themselves. When they were old enough, he'd put them in charge of one of his smaller farms, a few hours away from his own. "Can't have `em too close," he said gruffly, "or they'll just run home to daddy whenever something ain't working." The brothers had started working it themselves, using some of their father's stock to set up a cow-calf operation, supporting the main farms. As Felix put it, "they haven't completely fucked it up."

"Yet," Axel had clarified with a smirk, and his father had slapped his leg again playfully.

"Yet," he'd agreed, with satisfaction.

"So, you're all three in ranching?" Kieran asked eventually, and the zebra nodded eagerly.

"Yep!" He stared at his sons with affection. "The boys followed in their dad's footsteps, same as me and my pop. And you and yours. Makes me real proud. It's the cowboy way, y'know, bud." He gave a queer smile. "Keeping it in the family."

"Heh." Kieran looked away, trying not to smirk himself. If only you knew. He quickly changed the topic. "So, uh, what's the plan for the next few days?"

Felix looked over at Tristan. "What's on the cards, Tristan?" Kieran's father seemed to think for a moment, and then cleared his throat.

"Welllll," he said slowly. "I figure, we just relax the rest of the day, seeing as its past lunch already. You ate on the plane, right, Kit?" Kieran nodded. "Right. So, make a few snacks, grab a whole heap of beers, and sit out on the porch. How about a barbecue tonight for dinner? Yeah. We can get the horses packed up tomorrow morning with supplies, and head out. Only need a couple days' worth."

"Where are you thinking we'll go, Dad?" Kieran asked, trying to making a silent point to the visitors. I live here; you don't. "Out by the ridge?"

"I thought the clearing there in the west, near the old mine shaft," his father replied. "Hills all around in case a wind picks up, and lots of wood around for a fire. Camp there the one night, then ride through the next day to Jason's Peak. Great view at night, and we can bring wood with us from the clearing for a fire. Then we head around the river, cross over, and approach home again from that angle."

"Sounds good to me, Tristan," drawled the zebra, and Kieran felt a flash of irritation. Butt out, you fucking black and white cockblock. His sons agreed, and Kieran looked out of the window, trying to distract himself from his jealousy. It would only be a few days, and then they'd be gone. Don't get upset, don't make things uncomfortable for Dad. The zebra was his father's friend, after all, and his sire didn't have that many to start with. The younger stallion tried to focus on the objects passing by the window instead.

As they drew closer to the farm, he began to recognise things; most he remembered, and a few he'd forgotten. The chatting had helped him suppress the neediness in his loins, but that flared up again as they passed the old brick train station on the edge of town. Dad and he had been trapped in there one day when a downpour had started while they'd been shopping in town. Alone, with likely hours to wait, Kieran had ended up teaching his father to deep-throat him while he sprawled on a weather-faded wooden bench. The thunder had drowned out most of his cries of pleasure, but only time would erase the splash of whiteness his father had left, sprayed across the cracked tiles.

His cock twitched at the memory, and he glanced at his father again, every detail of his sire's body standing out for him in excruciating detail. That fine, long mane, and the strong back it cascaded down. The big, burly chest, and the thick arms holding the wheel. The tight ass, and the fat dick that waited on the other side...fffffuuuuck! He looked away, trying to control himself. He'd get out of the car with an erection like a fucking flagpole at this rate. But he had to make a plan. Get Dad alone somewhere for an hour or two, and get this out of his system with a fast, fiery fuck. Then he could survive the rest of the trip, until their guests left. But if he and his father vanished -- together -- for a bit...was that suspicious? They had no reason to think the two horses had a secret like that. Could he get away with a facile lie about checking the equipment in the barn? Perhaps. People tended to see what they wanted to imagine...and who ever thought to imagine a father-son couple fucking like horny teenagers in the back of a barn?

His reverie was interrupted by a soft word from his father. "Almost there," the big stallion said, and Kieran stared out of the window just in time to see the faded wooden sign flash past -- du Plessis Ranch -- and then they turned into the dirt road that led up towards the house. A few minutes later, the truck clattered to a stop outside the barn, and Kieran was home.

He climbed out slowly after the brothers, familiarity welling up inside him at the sights and sounds of his childhood home. The peeling white paint of the house, stark against the blue afternoon sky. The smell of cattle dung in the air, and the sight of a small group of them wandering along, out beyond the trees that ringed the home. The buzzing of the cicadas and the chattering of noisy birds in the great beech that grew behind the house. The shocking red of the barn, and the welcoming gloom inside it. The feral horses that wandered around their paddock, snorting and waving their manes at the new arrivals. The clean, cool smell of the rural autumn air...

Kieran didn't realise he was crying until he felt his father slip an arm around him, and he simply turned and wrapped his own around his father's body, pressing his face to him and holding him as tightly as he could. He didn't give a fuck right now what the zebra and his sons might think. He simply wanted to hold his father -- his lover -- and delight in his closeness and comfort.

"You're home, son," his father whispered, and the younger horse took a big, shuddering breath, half-laughing and half-crying. "You're home, boy. You're here with me." One of his hands stroked his son's mane, and he kissed the top of his son's head. "You were so brave, son," he said, voice bursting with pride," and you did it. You did it, Kit! I'm so proud of you, son. And I'm never letting you go again, you hear? Never ever. It's you and me together now, forever." Kieran gripped him, fingers curling into his clothes and his hair, and nodded his head against his father's chest. Then he pulled back, and looked up into his father's soft eyes, and wanted nothing more than to kiss him -- and believed he saw the same desire in those dark orbs. His smouldering desire, barely banked, burst into fresh flame, and he knew he had to have his father now. He had to. He clenched his hands, stopping them from pushing up under his shirt there and then to grab his father's pecs, or around his back to grip that fabulous tight ass...

His father pulled back as soon as he felt his son's growing erection touch him, pretending that the hug was done. Kieran coughed, wiped away a lingering tear, and tried to sound casual. "Hey, Dad, can we go check out the state of the equipment? I wanna see if there's anything we can look at refurbishi--"

A big cream hand thumped down onto Kieran's shoulder, interrupting him. "Oh, now, come on!" Felix said with gusto. "There's gonna be lots of time for that later, huh? Take a couple days off! Relax!" He grinned disarmingly at the horse, and Kieran tried to think of an answer.

"Sure, but...it'd be nice to get a...head-start on things..." Felix blew a raspberry at that and waved expansively at the clear sky and the distant mountains.

"Look at that, Kieran! It's fucking magnificent. Autumn on the range, bud." He took an exaggerated breath. "I'll tell you what: as nice as it can be out west, the air just don't smell right. It's been ages, but it smells so good coming back here." He patted the horse on the back. "It's not every day you get to come home again, bud. Savour it. Forget about work! It'll be there when you're ready. Yeah? Let's get drunk and have a great evening hanging out!"

Kieran glanced over at his father, but couldn't think of a reasonable objection to the zebra's annoyingly well-made point. "I guess..."

"Great!" Another hard slap on the back from the zebra. "And anyway, you've been flying for-fucking-ever! I bet you'll want a shower first."

A shower. Yes! Water on for covering noise, and Dad could easily slip in after him for a quick suck and fuck. Perfect.

He smiled. "A shower sounds fantastic right about now. I'll head right up. Keep a beer on ice for me, will you?" He gave his father what he hoped was a sufficiently knowing look. "Dad, could you help me carry my bags up?"

But his father's expression made it clear he was missing something, and his body tensed. What now? Good fucking grief, why was it so fucking hard to get a moment to get laid?

It was Axel who slid the stick in between the spokes of that particular wheel for him, as he walked over with a disarming smile. "Don't waste your time," he said. The brothers had been speaking quietly by themselves off to one side, giving the two reunited horses a bit of space. "Indoor shower's busted."

"What? Busted how?" Kieran asked in disbelief. How many ways would fate devise to fuck him over? What next -- Dad's dick had fallen off during his absence?

The zorse shrugged and looked across at Tristan for confirmation. "Dunno. Burst pipe or something?"

"Feeder pipe burst out back," Tristan confirmed, sounding as if he was mourning the loss of a close relative. He stared longingly at his son. No shower sex for us, then, Dad. Fuck.

"Yeah, that," Axel said. "Wanted to grab one this morning myself. Feeling kinda musky."

"Musk never killed anyone, ya big pansy," Chet said, slapping his brother's arm as he walked past, carrying one of Kieran's bags.

"Some people prefer not to smell like a locker room, actually, Chet!" Axel snapped at his brother. Then he clicked his fingers and turned back to Kieran. "Oh! But your dad said there's one in the barn, I think? Except someone's gotta help you use it, so that didn't help me out earlier." He pointed a finger between the two of them. "But this solves that, huh? I'll wash your back, you wash mine? I mean, not literally, I can wash my own back..."

His foolish grin was entirely at odds with Kieran's sinking feeling as the zorse grabbed his arm and tugged him forward. There was a shower in the barn -- of sorts. His father called it the horse shower, and it was nothing but a contraption he'd put together to wash down their riding horses when they needed cleaning. A large shower-head drizzled water down whenever someone worked the hand-driven pump. Basic, but effective.

Also completely uncovered.

Kieran looked at his father, who seemed to read his mind. "I can only get it fixed by this evening, son," he said apologetically.

"Well...I, uh, just need to get a towel..." Kieran began, but Chet chimed in, standing at the steps to the house.

"No worries! I'll bring a couple for you guys after I've dropped off your bags." The zonkey gave the two of them a thumbs-up and headed in the house. Kieran looked over at his father, trying not to look desperate, but his sire had no better answer.

"See you boys in a bit, then!" Felix said, patting Tristan's back. The two fathers turned and headed towards the back of the house, and Kieran slowly turned away, trailing after Axel as the zorse pushed the barn door open and went inside.

The horse shower was off to the side, blessedly hidden from the view of anyone walking past unless they stuck their head into the barn. This was already going to be awkward enough without Chet or Felix wandering past to chat about the weather or some other inconsequential bullshit. Why did that family have to be so fucking helpful? The horse kicked a bale of hay as he entered, and heard a snort from the zorse standing by the pump system ahead of him.

"Is it my dad?" he asked, and gave a wry smile at the horse's suddenly guilty expression, thankfully misinterpreting it. "Yeah, he's kinda loud. And he doesn't get a lot of time to hang out with adults he likes. Back home, he's an old horse working a young stallion's game. Doesn't get a lot of respect from the other owners. He was super excited to see your dad again. They get along."

Kieran had to agree with that. His father seemed to be dealing with their unexpected sex-hiatus pretty well, and Felix was probably helping. If nothing else, his randomly bellowing voice would soften even a satyr's erection.

"Talking about dad?" Chet asked, turning up at the door with two towels in hand. He tossed them to Kieran, followed by a translucent bar of soap. "Yeeep. Loud and proud. Just how he is. He should relax a bit after he's got a few beers in him, though. Speaking of which..." He gave a vague salute to his brother and Kieran. "I'm gonna go make sure the old fogeys don't drink it all before you guys are done. See you there!" And he was gone.

"...bye," Kieran said belatedly to the empty air. He walked forward and pulled the barn doors fully closed again, before walking back to the zorse and offering him one of the towels. Axel tossed it onto a pile of hay.

"Thanks." The pause was just long enough to make Kieran feel self-conscious. Even with the barn doors shut, the place was brightly lit; sunlight could fit through countless small gaps in the roof. "So -- you wanna go first?"

Kieran tried to think if it mattered, and couldn't get past the idea of having to watch this young stud showering while his balls were backed up like a goods truck on a one-way. "Sure," he said slowly, putting down his own towel and beginning to undress. Something about his careful gaze -- straight down at the floor, oh look at that piece of hay, yeah, keep looking right at that -- or the extra-slow unbuttoning and unzipping must have given him away, because he heard Axel give a small chuckle.

"Kieran, man, you...uh, like guys, huh?" he said, rubbing a hoof across the dry straw. The horse's sudden freeze answered the question wordlessly, and the zorse quickly raised a hand. "Hey, um, it's fine. I don't..." At least he seemed uncomfortable talking about it. That made two of them. "I work hard on myself, you know?" he tried to explain. "I'm used to it. At the gym, the guys...I see their eyes too. I know what they like. It's a compliment, anyway, isn't it?" The wood of the barn creaked gently in the day's heat, and the silence stretched out a little longer. "If a gay guy thinks you're hot, I mean," he added. "But, uh, don't worry. I don't care if you're hard. Just means...I mean...uh." He shrugged. "You can look. If -- if you want."

Kieran tried not to meet the sexy zorse's eyes. What would he even say? Thanks, Axel, you're really hot and all, but I'd rather think about my dad. But the other stallion's awkwardly gifted permission did mean he had an excuse for being hard, at least, so when his pants dropped, they each -- in their own way -- considered the inches of semi-soft stallion cock that hung from his sheath. A few seconds later, the pump started creaking as the zorse began working the handle, and water splashed down onto a concrete slab. Kieran stepped into it, the cold making him gasp, and quickly began rubbing himself down. Permission or not, the less time he was naked and wet in front of Axel, the better.

It only took him a minute to clean himself off, and then -- shivering a little from the colder-than-expected water -- he grabbed a towel and dried himself in record time, ending with the towel around his waist. The zorse stopped working the pump and walked silently towards the concrete slab of the shower. Kieran looked away as he began undressing, moving to the pump and grasping the handle. Yes. Focus on how the pitted metal felt, and try to ignore the incredibly fit equine getting naked over there.

He meant to stare off into the middle distance, he really did. He was going to work the pump and stare at nothing and wait for the zorse to be done. He could think of Dad's videos and his body and not have to explain why he had a raging erection. But as the shock of the cold shower faded, and his arousal ramped back up, he simply couldn't help himself. As his hands took the pump handle, his head swung about, and he watched the zorse.

Because Axel looked unbelievable.

His shirt came off first, and as his arms rose above his head, his obliques pulled tight, framing the rippled pattern of abs between them. The zorse's body hair was a pleasant chestnut colour, darker and thicker than Dad's, with lighter stripes bisecting it: the zebra markings curved in from his back, along his sides, and faded before they reached the mid-line of his body. His biceps grew firm again as the arms fell back down, and then tensed into delicious mounds of muscle as he tucked his thumbs into his pants and tugged them off in one smooth motion. No underwear for him, it seemed; two fat, shiny balls plopped right out, above a whorled brown sheath. Kieran got the impression the zorse was used to showing off for people; his motions felt almost choreographed, every movement part of a little dance the equine had designed to simultaneously tease a viewer and demonstrate his incredible fitness.

He stepped out of the puddle of clothes on the floor, one hand reaching down to push his nuts free of his inner thigh. They were so fucking big: if Chet had inherited a sheath gene from his nameless mother, then Axel had been gifted his father's zebra heritage in the ball department. He turned to walk under the spray of water, and Kieran got to watch a flawless male ass move away from him. He held back the instinctual snort, but his towel began to grow a little tight, and he quickly turned a bit to try to hide it. He was too fucking horny for this! He should simply tell Axel he didn't feel comfortable with it. Get his brother to come and drive the pump, or something...fuck, why hadn't he suggested that outside?

But his hands kept working the pump, and his eyes kept looking at the zorse.

Axel's face rose into the falling water, and he gave a deep and satisfied sigh. His balls were hanging very loosely, and every motion he made jostled them, making them bounce a little, or swing from side to side. He began running the bar of soap across his body, pressing into the muscles and the hair, working up suds. He turned his head from side to side, letting the water cascade over him and soak his mane to the roots. Kieran had rushed his shower, and his mane was still mostly dry; the zorse was taking his time. Doing it right. Definitely putting on a show.

He shifted the soap to his other hand and rubbed the suds in a circular motion around his chest and down his belly. The flesh underneath it barely moved, so hard was it; he could have been carved from stone. Wet and soapy, the hand reached his crotch and slid under his balls to lift them. They received a gentle, generous washing that just happened to push them out in Kieran's direction. How were they so big? No wonder zebras had a reputation for their finishes.

The ball attention -- or perhaps the silent observer -- was exciting the zorse a little, and his cock soon peeked out of its home and dropped a few inches. The horse had to do a bit of a double-take; the zorse's dick looked an awful lot like Dad's. Same pitch-black colour, about the same thickness when soft. Would it grow the same way, he wondered? Lengthening like a magical staff, with the flare growing proud and potent upon the head. He could watch Dad's cock drop a thousand times and not grow tired of it. He wanted to watch it now...but Dad wasn't here, and Axel was. And he was only looking.

Axel sighed, making the horse blink back to alertness. One of his hands was sweeping through his mane hairs now, dragging out any loose ones. The zorse had a horse's long, flowing mane, unlike his brother and fathers' shorter, brushier ones, and it grew dark and lustrous as it soaked up the water. The other was cleaning behind himself, fingers sliding up and down his crack. One of the two must have felt good, because his cock had dropped a little more, now looking fully extended. At least, Kieran thought it must be; if any more dark flesh dropped out, the horse would be seriously hung, even for their species.

"Ah, fuck..." the zorse said softly, letting his head flop forward and looking down at his fully revealed member. "Showers always make me..." He glanced over at Kieran, who was trying not to look as if the impromptu show was turning him on. The tent in his towel made the attempt pointless. "Hey, do you mind if...uh, I normally..." He made a jerking-off motion with one hand. "In the shower back home, and...it's kinda been a few days..."

Kieran's tongue disappeared, and his throat became filled with sawdust. He managed a hngh and then gave up. Axel smiled like a blushing bride -- not that brides usually had fifteen-inch horsecocks, at least before the consummation -- and looked away...but looked back with a naughty expression. "Will you...keep watching?" he said softly.

Kieran gulped and gave a faint nod. Dad...fuck, I want you, but...I'm so fucking horny...

Axel's hand slid up and down his cock a few times before grasping the head and squeezing it. The shaft thickened as Kieran watched, the rivulets of water running down it being deflected by the veins that grew proud and thick along it. The cock rose as it grew harder, too, and the zorse stroked the underside, looking down at his endowment with a wonderful expression: eyes soft, mouth gently parted, tongue slipping back and forth across his teeth. He couldn't have forgotten that Kieran was there, watching him; he simply didn't seem to care. He was going to pleasure himself to orgasm, and that was all that mattered at the moment.

The horse watched in lust and excitement, as eager now to see the other equine's climax as to see how he worked his member. He only really knew what he and his father did to masturbate, and Axel wasn't doing what either of them did. One of his hands was gripping his shaft right at the base where it merged into the skin of his dusky sheath. He'd squeeze hard, making the veins of his cock go rigid and making the shaft harden and rise as if what protruded from his body wasn't a penis, but a length of gnarled hardwood. Then he'd release it, and it would deflate a little, dropping down into a gentle curve with his heavy, blood-fattened flare drooping at the end. Or he'd place his other hand under that flare, and slap the penis against his hand: the prick hitting his palm with a meaty slap that sounded like a thunderclap in the barn's still, quiet atmosphere.

He grew harder yet, and his cock no longer curved down at all. His flare was swelling, and his urethra -- a dark, baleful eye on the bottom of his cock's nubbed crown -- stared unblinkingly at Kieran, as if daring him to do something about it. The horse grew harder, and pumped faster. The water was coursing down now, completely soaking the other stallion in its silver shower. Axel didn't notice. His eyes were shut now, and one hand held his flare right behind the crown, squeezing and pressing forward in turn as the other slid along the slickened shaft with rapid, jerky motions. His stripes were even darker when wet; russet marks that cut through the pale hairs as if a god had struck him on his side, to mark him as their own.

The soaking fur clung tightly to his muscled form, every twitch and flex making his gorgeous curves shimmer. His mouth was wide open now, and his breathing was fast. His flare kept getting bigger; fuck, that must be from the zebra side of his family, too. The fucking thing was twice as thick as his shaft. Faster his one hand slid, and harder the other squeezed, compressing and releasing the spongy flesh. Kieran did that to himself when he jerked off, and he could all but feel the sensations in his own dick now, like echoes: the electric sparks that shot all the way down his shaft and thrummed inside his belly, the blood heat of the flesh when it was that swollen, the incredible feeling of it when you squeezed, and it pushed back...

Axel's beautiful balls were rising up, and he was making sharp, grunting noises. The hand behind his flare was clasping the shaft now, angling it up into the air. It looked even bigger now, somehow, like a balloon about to burst. The zorse grimaced, his lip raised high, his nostrils wide as jet engines. He started to moan, a low sound that rose in pitch and volume as quickly as his nuts vanished into his body, and then he jerked, and froze, and...

His first cumshot could have been fired from a rifle. It squirted out of his dick at an incredible speed, arcing up into the air and almost hitting the underside of the second floor, before landing somewhere on top of a pile of hay bales on the other side of the barn. The second almost matched it, but smacked into a metal pail instead, dribbling down the side like molten metal. Each one after that was a little closer, splattering into the ground, creating a steaming white line that pointed right back at the flare that had created it. Kieran managed three or four shots on a good day; he counted nine from Axel before the zorse was done. True, the last two simply welled up from his urethra like thick white oil, oozing from his cock down onto the floor in a long, sticky rope of cum, but they were still so big.

Fucking hell. Zebra balls certainly met expectations.

Axel gave a long, shuddering groan, and his hands fell limply to his sides. His released cock thwacked into his leg and began to shrink back up into his sheath. "Fuck, but I needed that," the zorse gasped. He lifted his face and washed off the sweat that had formed during his exertions, then cleaned his hands of semen and stepped out from under the flow. "Thanks for the shower," he said, giving the horse a grin just as disarming as the ones his father deployed. "How'd I do?"

"Uh..." The wavy line of semen stretched a good six yards along the floor. "Pretty good..."

"Yeah." The self-possessed smile said it all. "Should really thank my Dad for these babies sometime." He gave his balls a satisfied fondle, then dropped them to grab a towel and rub off. "Now I can really relax, ya know?" He got dressed, and Kieran quickly undid his towel and did the same. Axel glanced at his hardness and smirked again. "If you need a little time by yourself..." he started to say, and Kieran's face burst into a blush. "I can tell the others you're a slow dresser," the zorse finished.

"Uh, I -- I'm fine. Thanks." He didn't want to attract attention to his dick right now. Unless you can get my father in here, too. Fuck...he fucking had to get Dad alone to deal with this. He'd blow a load in that warm mouth in no time, at this point. They only needed a couple minutes alone. Maybe when everyone was drunk...

Axel waited for him outside, and the two equines left the barn together, wandering around to the back of the house. On the porch stood a large table, surrounded by camping chairs. The table was already littered with bottles, with the biggest collection in front of Chet. Even as they arrived, he thumped another empty bottle down, belching disgustingly. Axel clapped his hands with faux politeness, and Felix slapped his son's meaty shoulder, his ears flattened in annoyance.

"Don't be a fucking slob, Chet," he said.

"Sorry, pops." A second, barely covered burp followed. "Must be my donkey side, huh? You definitely don't release gas like a well-fed milk cow when you're at home, right?" He sniggered and hunched down into his seat to avoid the harder slap that flew his way, and Axel sniffed superciliously at his family as he slipped into an open seat -- the one next to Tristan, sadly. Kieran had to take the one between Chet and his father, and jumped when Chet's hands grasped his arm around the bicep.

"Save me, Kieran! My father's trying to suppress my evidence of his own trashiness!" He giggled, hiding behind the horse's body.

"Jackass," his father replied, unable to conceal his grin. Chet let Kieran go -- gripping his arm a little tighter before he let go -- and grabbed a new beer bottle, knocking the cap off against the edge of the table with a well-practiced move.

"Half jackass, Dad. C'mon, get it right, you've had twenty-four years to practice." He put the bottle to his lips, and there was a moment of silence. Kieran must have looked a little shell-shocked because his father smiled at him and pushed his already-open bottle across the table towards him.

"You grab this one, Kit," he said. He sounded so calm and sexy. Kieran's face broke into a smile just hearing him speak. "I'll go fetch more. And don't mind these three." He gestured at their guests. "Felix likes it this way."

"Ain't no place in ranching for guys who can't speak their mind!" the zebra agreed, swallowing a mouthful of drink. "It's a hard business. I want my boys to say what they think, no matter what."

Will you...keep watching...

Kieran's seat thankfully didn't face Axel's, so he could avoid meeting the zorse's eyes as images of the male's impressive naked body flitted through his mind. Fuck. Fuuuck. He needed to blow a fucking load now. He gripped the edge of the table.

"I think I'll go help Dad get the--"

Felix's hand grabbed his bicep, exactly as Chet had done on the other side. "Kit! Kieran. Bud." Was he drunk? He pushed the half-finished beer closer to the horse. "Relaaaax. Your dad can handle a six pack. Because he's got a six pack, right? Huh?" The zebra frowned. "Well, no, I dunno. Does he?" He threw the question away. "Doesn't matter. He's real fit, huh? Really impressive at his age. I askeded...asked...him what his secret was...he said it gets him laid. Um." He took another sip of beer. "Point is -- you drink, and relax, alright? You just flew however fucking many hours to get here. Take a load off." The hand on his arm didn't move, and Kieran sighed, grabbing the beer and downing half of it in a deep swallow. Perhaps alcohol would make him less fucking horny. Yeah. The famous libido-suppressing effects of beer.

"There we go!" Felix gusted, squeezing the horse's arm and then scooting his chair a little closer. "Have a good shower? All nice and clean?" He sniffed at the horse.

"Sure," the horse replied cautiously. The bottle in his hand was a great excuse to not meet any eyes. Where was Dad? He was seated almost directly opposite Kieran. Could he risk a little footsie under the table?

"I'm surprised you agreed to a shower without a mirror nearby to do that metrosexual mane up after, Axel," Chet said, leering at his brother. Axel gave him the finger back, and Chet snorted. "Pretty boy zorse."

"Linebacker zonk." But neither of their tones were hot. Their entire family seemed to love jabbing at each other, and did so until Tristan returned with fresh beers, frost still whitening the outside of the bottles. He cracked one open for himself and tilted it towards his son.

"Welcome home, son," he said, his voice cracking a little. "I can't tell you how happy it makes me, having you here with me again."

Various versions of "Yeah!", "Welcome home!" and "Woo, Kieran!" fell out in a babble from the other three equines. Axel thumped a bottle onto the table like a gavel, and Felix waved one about wildly enough that some beer escaped and splashed onto Chet's face, making the zonkey splutter.

"Dad! For fuck sakes! Watch it! Don't need you spilling all over me." He wiped the beer off with annoyance. "Fuckin' spraying yourself all over the place..."

"Hey, that's exactly what your mother said," Felix replied casually, and it took a few seconds before the others realised what he'd said. Unexpectedly, it was Tristan who burst into laughter first, and what lusty laughter it was. Kieran's entire body felt a thrill of delight to hear his father laugh so unabashedly. It was like a signal. Things are gonna be all right. Everything's gonna be all right now.

"Really didn't need to know that, Dad," the zonkey said, rolling his eyes and taking another drink. His father looked at him with a sneaky expression.

"Oh yeah?" he said casually. "Well, then you're gonna hate hearing how Axel's mom was the better lay." That made Axel choke, and he spat a mouthful of beer up into the air.

"No, please! I don't need to hear this!" he begged, looking at his father with wide eyes. Tristan was still trying to hide his laughter behind a hand, and failing. Felix shrugged, and cleared his throat dramatically.

"It was the summer of...eighty-five? Eighty-six? How old are you boys now?" Axel had stuck his fingers in his ears and was humming loudly, and Chet was staring at his father over his bottle in combined disbelief and amusement. "Guess it doesn't really matter," the zebra decided. "So. It was the 80's, and zebra fever was sweeping the nation. If you define the nation as `my pants'..."

Kieran shook his head as the zebra continued to relate the tale of how he'd seduced Axel's mother in painfully explicit detail. With the three striped equines occupied, he took the opportunity to catch his father's eyes. They stared at one another, and Kieran tried to pass some of the lusty fire in his belly through the look. I want to fuck your face, he mouthed. His father frowned and shook his head a little. I don't understand. Kieran tried nodding up instead, indicating the upper floor, and then raised his eyebrows a couple times suggestively. Let's go have some dad-son fun time. His father's head-shake was more deliberate this time, and his eyes jumped between their guests. Kieran almost ground his teeth in frustration. Damn his father's good country neighbourliness! If there was ever a time to fob off your visitors so that your son could toss you onto a bed and feast on your perfect ass with his hungry tongue...

Kieran reigned his thoughts in and took another sip of beer. Relax. He was letting his dick do too much thinking. He could keep it together. There would be an opportunity to be alone with Dad soon enough. Tonight, at least. He'd generously offer "his" room to the guests, and sleep in his father's room. And promptly make sure neither of them did much sleeping.

"Okay, listen. I bet you, I fucking bet you that my mom was better in the sack than yours!"

Axel's remarkable statement drew Kieran back into the discussion. The brothers were pointing at one another in a state of great animation, and Felix was grinning and looking between them.

"No fucking way," Chet said dismissively. "And also, we can't prove that, so. And also also, she definitely wasn't."

"I know how you can prove it." Tristan's voice joined in, unexpectedly, and four sets of eyes swung to look at him. He took a sip of beer before answering, lifting one hoof onto his chair. Kieran could see the bulge of his crotch. Well, hello, Dad. "We got a little system out here for resolving disputes. Don't we, Kit?" He looked directly at his son, who looked back blankly. We do? Not that Kieran could remember. But there was something in his father's expression that excited him...and then there was the way he'd casually bared his crotch at him.

"Ohhh, yeah, that system." He nodded as if he understood, and their guests looked at the two horses in turn.

"What's the system?" Axel asked curiously.

"Real simple," Tristan said. The older horse pointed the neck of his bottle at a large tree that grew about a hundred yards away. "Race from here to there, and around it, and back. Winner, well, wins."

"How's that prove anything about this situation, though?" Chet asked curiously. Tristan merely shrugged.

"You already said it -- you can't prove the answer easily. Not unless you can magic up those two mares from wherever they are these days. So: you do this, instead, and the winner gets to say, uh..." He tried to hide his smile. "Gets to say that their dam was a hotter fuck." Kieran's dick jerked at his father's crude words. You're a better fuck than any mare, you sexy thing.

Axel seemed confused. "I mean, Dad already said..." But the zonkey tapered off as the older horse gave a snort.

"Maybe your dad's got bad taste..."

"Hey!" Felix flicked a bottle cap at his friend. "Bitch."

"...but, taste or not, he doesn't know shit about Kieran's mom." They all turned to stare at Kieran, who felt his face growing hot. Why was Dad dragging him into this? The stallion squirmed in his seat, and the others chuckled.

"Well, then," Felix said with a smirk. "Three mothers. No way to prove anything. And everything on the line! In the race of the ce...nt...u..."

His words trailed off as Tristan stood up and shucked his shirt off, lifting the tight-fitting material up and over his head in a quick action. Kieran's mind blanked out as he was unexpectedly greeted by the hairy, muscled torso of his father standing right before him. Had any of the others been watching him keenly, they might have taken note of the way his mouth parted slightly, and his nostrils flared, and his upper lip rose a little in unconscious flehmen. A horse in a state of deep arousal. But, luckily for him, they were all looking at the same thing he was.

His hot fucking stud of a dad.

The hard-earned muscle gut that Kieran had admired over video chat was so much better in person. He could see all the details now. The way the smooth skin bulged just enough to hint at the hardness below, with faint indentations like an echo of the pretty-boy abs Axel had. The massive pecs and the cherry-red nipples that topped them, begging for a lick and a suckle. The shoulders like cinder blocks -- and the railroad-sleeper arms that hung from them -- completed the effect. Dad was a dream, the quintessential farmer horse from every poster and textbook in the last hundred years, and Kieran's dick now stuck down his pants leg like a rolling pin. Fuuuuuck. He slipped a little lower, to let the table obscure how aroused he was.

"Good to see you're keeping fit and all, Tristan," Felix said drily, "but that shirt wasn't gonna slow you down much."

"Oh," his father said casually, "didn't I mention?" He undid the buttons of his jeans. "You gotta run naked. For it to be legitimate and all. Farm rules."

Kieran almost clapped a hand to his mouth as the denim cloth slithered to the floor, but thankfully the cheer and applause from the others hid the squirmy groan of need that he made at the sight of his father's sheath and balls. His father knew what he wanted...and he'd found a way to give it to him. At least partly. But Kieran accepted it gladly, and his eyes roved madly over his father, trying to burn every detail into his memory before it went away.

Tristan's crotch was unchanged from their last video, apart from a fresh trim to the pubic hair. The sheath hung loosely between his legs: a short stretch of skin connected it to his belly, and its mass made it hang from that like a feed bag from a hook. The cockhead peeked out a little, black on black with white dappling: Dad was a little aroused. Not that that was unusual for stallions. Back in the day, when Kieran had taken sex ed at school -- a pretty redundant thing to be teaching a bunch of thirteen-year-old farm boys, he'd always thought -- the instructor had taken special care to point out the stallions in the class, and explain that horses had higher libidos than other species. He said that as they went further into puberty, they'd find that their dicks would always be a little aroused -- pretty much no matter what was happening -- and they shouldn't feel bad about it. It was simply how they were. He also cautioned the other males against mocking stallions for being hard in places like locker rooms, because it wasn't something they could control. Which had been a lifesaver for the many, many times he'd actually gotten hard in locker rooms.

Below the sheath, Dad's lovely balls rested, plumped forward by his closed legs. Kieran desperately wanted to nuzzle up into them and feel his father's sheath brushing over his head as he licked along the smooth skin of his testicles, hugging those massive legs for support. Surrounding himself with his father like a warm, protective coat. And...he would. He could do it soon. The realisation that this was real, that this wasn't happening via a screen, hit him again, and a starburst of relief and delight and horniness raced through his veins. Dad had found a way to give his son what he most eagerly desired.

Tristan put his hands to his waist, a confident equine Atlas. "Guess I've won by default, huh?" he said to his immobile guests. That got a reaction: Felix snorted.

"Like hell, Tristan," he said, pushing his chair back and quickly unbuttoning his shirt. His sons followed suit, and Kieran's dick began to soak his pants leg as three more fantastic specimens of masculinity were unveiled before him. He was afraid to look too closely: they might notice. But, a casual sweep of his head let him take in the key points. Felix looked like a shorter, less built version of his own dad. His legs were well-defined, and his balls were unreasonably large; definitely the source of Axel's own productiveness. A fat black zebra dick hung flaccidly from a tight sheath. Axel hadn't changed in an hour: his cock hung half out of his sheath, and his perfect muscles shone dully with reflected light. And Chet...

Chet had a sheath like a fucking grain silo, which bobbed up and down hypnotically as he drunkenly struggled to pull his pants free of one leg.

Kieran had to flick his eyes back to check a couple of times, not believing what he was seeing. The zonkey's sheath was enormous. It rose nearly to his belly button, as thick around as a water bottle, and swung around almost like a penis when he moved. A pink cockhead peered from the opening; an unusual colour for a donkey. The zonkey's build was closer to Kieran's father's than his own, with a stockiness that probably pointed to a big reserve of stamina. Shit, how long would he be able to go for...and with a dick that fucking thick, how would it feel...?

"Any time now, son," Felix said drily. "We're all fine just standing around, watching your sheath swing like a windsock."

Chet growled. "Can't...get...the fucking...thing..." With a final hard pull, his hoof came loose, and he staggered backwards. "Off!" He threw the pants to the ground and stamped on them angrily; that only made his sheath bob about even more. Kieran risked a longer look, since the others were looking too. The zonkey's cock was dropping some more, and the sheath had not misled on its passenger's thickness. It was terrifying, and amazing, and Kieran wanted it.

Chet slapped his hands to his sides, posing like a superhero. "Sorry yours isn't big enough to swing, Dad," he said to his amused father. "No need to be jealous."

"Sheaths never got anyone pregnant, son," his father shot back. "Gotta have a dick inside for that, not a piece of pink liquorice."

Kieran remained seated as the striped stallions continued to tease one another. He would have knocked the table over if he'd tried to stand up, but his father had thought of that. He looked at Kieran. "Too tired to run, son?"

Bless you, you gorgeous stallion. "Yeah, Dad, sorry." He gave a pathetically weak yawn. "Long flight, y'know..."

His father nodded. "Of course, son. But you know the rules. You'll have to accept the forfeit after."

Oh, fuck, yes. Kieran didn't know what the forfeit for this invented ritual would entail, but with Dad planning it, he was sure he'd love it. "Of course, Dad," he said with a smile, trying to stop it evolving into a grin. "Farm rules, right?"

"Farm rules, Kit," he said with a nod. His eyes flicked around the other naked equines and he briefly waggled his eyebrows, as Kieran had done earlier. Oh, I fucking love you, you beautiful thing.

Tristan walked off the porch and out into the sunlight, scraping a line in the dirt with one hoof. Kieran soaked up the sight of bright sunlight on that naked body, holding in a desire to leap across the table like a starving sex addict and start sucking on his dad's muzzle there and then. His chest ached with adoration and love for this incredible, beautiful stallion who had not only made him and raised him, but become his lover and his best friend. Dad knew him so well. He knew Kieran wanted to get his hands on him, and he'd given him the next best thing. Four equines studs to admire.

"Line up, contenders!" his father called out in an announcer's voice, and Felix and his sons stopped their joshing long enough to form up on the starting line. They were all facing away from Kieran now, tails swishing, legs clenched, and Dad joined them. But he raised his tail extra-high, to give his son a view of his doughnut: the firm red ring sandwiched between his hard ass-cheeks, mounted atop a sight of paternal back-sack that made the young stallion's mouth water. Daddy, perfect Daddy, I'm gonna rim that hot fucking hole until you're screaming my name.

"Kieran, count us down, please," his father called. Kieran cleared his throat, trying to ensure no trace of huskiness betrayed him.

"Three...two...one...go!"

The stallions hurtled away in a cloud of dust and excited whinnies. Hooves pounded into the ground with thunderous force. Arms swung back and forth; Kieran saw Axel swat at one of his brother's long ears with a free hand, earning him a snap with Chet's teeth. Incredibly, they seemed more or less neck and neck when they reached the tree, but as they rounded it, Chet grabbed onto a broken branch and pulled himself around with momentum, avoiding the wider curve that all the others made. As snorts of exertion and whinnies of disbelief followed behind, he moved to the head of the herd, sprinting with all his might back towards Kieran.

It only took them about fifteen seconds to cover the distance back, but it felt like an eternity to the horse. Kieran stared directly at all of them. At their crotches. At the long, flaccid horse, zebra, and donkey cocks that had all dropped from the excitement and adrenaline of the race, and slapped back and forth between their owner's legs with meaty sounds that he could hear. Ohhhhh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck...fuck me, studs, fuck me so fucking hard. Kieran's body was slowly losing control over his desires. He wanted to throw himself at this bevy of male masterpieces, to suck on them and be sucked, to fuck them until he was dry and to ride those magnificent pricks with his hungry, hungry asshole until they filled him right back up again. He wouldn't make it to the end of the day, let alone the end of their visit. He had to fucking cum, really fucking soon, or he might literally die.

Chet -- drunkenness notwithstanding -- crossed the line first and leapt into the air. "YEAH!" he screamed. "Chet's mom -- best lay!" His fully dropped dick -- as thick as a side of meat -- seemed to float up as he jumped, hanging in the air like an extra-fat sausage...and then swung down hard when he landed, smacking against the zonkey's striped thigh with a clap like a firework going off. Kieran had to look away, for fear of cumming in his pants. Shit, shiiit, Dad...the plan worked too well. Abort, abort! He tried to catch his father's eye, but Tristan was laughing and pushing Felix away as they heaved for breath and congratulated the zonkey winner. And when he did finally catch his son's eye, there was an overconfident look in them that only made Kieran hornier. His reserved father didn't often take control...but when he did, it was the hottest fucking thing in the world.

"Chet wins!" Tristan said, slapping the zonkey on the back. "And Kieran gets the forfeit." He licked a drop of sweat from his lips. "Same forfeit as always. Getting sheathfaced."

Kieran's heart rate doubled, and his expression must have looked remarkable, because all the striped equines burst into laughter. At least they seemed to interpret it as shock. "Woa, that face!" Axel said. "Never got sheathfaced in school, Kieran? Or did you do the sheathing?"

Sheathfacing. The classic equine dominance play...if you were a teenager. Grab a guy's head, tug down your pants, and force his face into your sheath. Rub it back and forth a couple times, and let go. It wasn't exactly sexual; it was just your sheath. Sheaths weren't ribald, if you kept your dick inside. Wasn't like you were making him suck you off or anything. But it was sexual-adjacent, and it definitely marked him with your scent. The implication was clear enough to make it hysterically funny for a pack of hormone-overcharged sixteen-year-olds.

"You know the rules, son," Tristan said, walking around the table towards his son. Kieran tried to appear discomfited, but it was difficult with his brain screaming YESYESYESYESYES. His father was gonna sheathface him. He'd get to smell Dad, maybe taste him. Feel his thickness pressing into his face...oh fuck, yes, yes, yes, do it, do it, do ittttt...

"No worries, Tristan. I got this." Chet's drawl intruded from nowhere, and a drunken hand pressed itself to the horse's chest. "Winner's prerogative." He stepped in front of Kieran's father, and before the older horse could respond, the zonkey had grabbed Kieran's head with two hands and pushed it into his crotch.

The unexpected switch made Kieran's body stiffen in surprise, which helped. It would have been suspicious if he'd melted into Chet like he wanted to drown in the heat of his body. But under the table, his dick flared like a mushroom cloud, and his hole clenched down on a paternal cock that wasn't there. His brain was in disarray, the constant visual torments now wiped away by the smell, the taste, the feeling of zonkey dick. Chet wasn't technically sheathfacing him; his dick hadn't climbed back up into its home yet, so all he was doing was grinding his dick and sheath into Kieran's face. And the horse wanted it to never end.

The zonkey's fat cock felt like velvet against Kieran's skin, and smelled like cum and stallions. His sheath was so large that it clung onto the first few inches of his shaft like a cloak, even when dropped, and the folds of skin rippled back and forth as Kieran's head was pushed from side to side. Kieran dared not outright lick the drunken male's member, but he pulled his lips in to wet them and allowed Chet to do the work of coating them in his oils. There was a slight hint of sweat from the impromptu sprint, and Kieran wished the zonkey would press him deeper so that he could smell the full force of his musk; the glorious scents that lurked in the deepest folds of his voluminous sheath. The cock pushed over his nostrils again, and Kieran shivered. That wonderful, unique feeling of dick: soft, yet firm, moulding to your face as it bulged -- and with the constant promise of more.

Eternity ended. Chet's hands released Kieran, and he stepped back, arms held triumphantly in the air. "Sheathfaced! Woo!" Kieran tried to make his disappointment manifest as relief, and chuckled along with the others. They started to dress, and the young stallion took a last look at the forest of dicks before they were covered up once more. The Felix clapped a hand onto Tristan's shoulder.

"Didn't you say there's a good butcher in town?"

"Yeah. Best steaks you ever had."

"Fuck yes. Let's go get some for dinner, huh?" He looked across at his sons. "Can you boys handle a potato salad and some corn-on-the-cob to go with it?

"As you command, pops," Chet intoned, slipped his shirt back on, biceps bulging out the fabric. "Garlic butter for the corn? How about some mushrooms, too?"

"Now we're fucking talking. You got all of that, Tristan?"

"Got potatoes and seasoning. But no fresh mushrooms. There's a grocery near the butcher, we can grab some there."

"Great." Felix thumped his hoof against the wood of the porch. "A-hunting we shall go! See you boys in a bit. Get the fire started while we're gone."

The younger stallions various gave thumbs-ups and nods to the older ones, and the two fathers disappeared through the house, heading to the front. A few seconds later, the rumble of a car engine sounded, and then slowly faded as it made its way to the main road. Kieran stared down at the table, pretending to be lost in thought as he waited for his rock-hard dick to subside. The brothers settled down as well, and Axel grabbed another bottle of beer. Kieran studiously avoided his eyes: he'd glanced at them briefly, and the zorse had been looking at him with an amused, knowing expression. Did you enjoy that? Yeah, he had, so what? And he wanted more, so what of that? And he wanted to...fuck, he simply wanted to cum! His dick didn't seem interested in getting any softer than steel.

"You got some interesting traditions out here, Kieran," Chet said, another beer bottle already in his hand. Kieran chuckled.

"Yeah. You know how it is. Not much to do, some days...you make your own entertainment."

"Oh yeah, it's the same out west. Guys will do most anything to keep busy." He looked over at his brother. "Remember Wangalong?"

"Shit! Yeah." Axel blinked. "Forgot that..."

"Wangalong?" Kieran asked.

"Uh, how to explain it..." Chet thought for a bit. "I mean, basically, you get a bunch of guys, and, uh, they pull their dicks out, and race. To cum."

"Oh."

"But that's only the start. Last guy to cum is the loser. He's gotta...heh. He's gotta go stand, and bend over, and show his ass. And the others have to cum again. On him." His grin spoke to happy memory. "Closest hit to his asshole wins."

"Oh, damn," Kieran said. "That's...something." Something he suddenly desperately wanted. He imagined bending over and having the other four studs unloading against his ass. Fuck yes. And then Dad could step up and just ram himself in there...

"Farm guys are always fucking horny, right?" Chet said. "But we won, every time." He pointed at Axel. "Secret weapon. That twinky fuck can hit a target right in the middle from like ten yards."

Oh, I can believe it. Axel was looking down shyly, as if he hadn't given Kieran a demonstration of his skills earlier. You're all a bunch of horny buggers.

The topic shifted to memories of their time as kids, with Kieran reminding them of good times they'd forgotten, and the brothers doing the same for him. As utterly nonsexual as the topics were, the horse simply couldn't get his erection to fade. Too many thoughts of naked, sprinting stallions, and explosive zorse cumshots, and guys with cum-soaked asses. Finally, Chet checked his watch. "Better get going with the dinner stuff before Dad gets back." With various grunts, the brother pushed themselves to their feet. "See you in a bit, then, Kit," Axel said. The horse nodded back.

"Yeah, sure thing," he said. "Might go unpack." Or go fill a fucking bathtub with my pent-up load.

The other two stallions went indoors, and Kieran heard cupboards being explored, and fraternal chatting. He carefully slipped out from under the table, his erection an obvious bulge down his pants leg, and hurried around to the front of the home. With the brothers inside, he didn't dare use any room in the house to relieve himself, but there was an easy answer to that. Just as there had been back in his horny teenager days.

He made a beeline for the barn and went inside, pulling the doors nearly shut, so that only a sliver of light came through. It was much darker inside now, as the sun sank behind the trees. Shaking with anticipation and relief, he climbed a ladder that rested against the back of the barn, leading up to a loft. In winter the extra feed would be stored here, but right now it only held some rusting tools and a couple bales of hay. Perfect. Kieran tore at the strings binding the bale with near-frenzied speed, breaking it down into a pile of loose stalks quickly. He fell on top of it, pulled down his pants, and finally, fucking finally, after half a day of unbelievable erotic stimulation and obstruction, he grabbed his dick.

FUCK, it felt good.

It would have been even better if his father was with him, but he couldn't wait anymore. Anyway, he was so damn horny, he didn't think he'd struggle to still give his father the fucking of his life that night. He made a mental note to get something to stuff in Dad's mouth; couldn't have his screams of pleasure alerting their guests to their fun.

He could have blown his load in seconds, but he held back. He couldn't be sure when next he'd get a little privacy, and there were a few things he wanted to think about before he painted the loft white. Things like how Dad had looked, standing in the sun, nude as perfection. Or how Dad's ass bulged, under his tail: like two fucking perfect peach halves, begging for his son to bite down on them. Or the sight of four handsome stallions barrelling towards him, dicks flying free, nostrils flared. Ready to win. Ready to fuck...

"Fuck, Dad...I wanna fuck you so bad right now..." he whimpered to himself. He gently squeezed his painfully hard dick. "I should be fucking you right now. Blowing my nuts all over you, making you all sticky, licking you clean again, starting over..." He moved his hand a little higher, closer to his sensitive flare. "Riding your cock until you shoot your colts deep inside me..." Almost there. "Tie me up and fuck me hard, Daddy..."

The barn doors creaked open, and Kieran froze. There was a second of silence, and then--

"Empty." Axel was attempting to whisper, but the beers were impeding that. He was very audible -- as was Chet.

"Okay. Quick. Dunno when Dad will get back. Show me." The zonkey's words were slightly slurred. Kieran was almost afraid to breathe. What were they doing here? They wouldn't be able to see him, at least -- unless they also climbed to the loft -- but that made it equally impossible for him to see them. Or escape. He could hear, though, and their hoofsteps could be tracked to the side of the barn, where the shower was.

"From here...to here." Axel sounded incredibly proud, and Chet's low whistle made it seem he agreed.

"Nice job, bitch. Never seen you shoot a wad like that before."

Kieran's eyes widened at that. That was a...interesting thing for a brother to say. There was the scraping sound of hooves shuffling against the ground, and then a giggle.

"Mhm. I asked Kieran if he wanted a show, and he...didn't say no. And he's so pretty. I wanted to make him happy."

"Such a good boy," Chet purred. "Simply looking at you makes people happy, you sexy fuck." The unmistakable sound of kissing followed, and Kieran's dick -- on the verge of softening from the fear of being caught -- shot back to full mast. Holy fucking shit. The brothers were lovers? Those...teasing little fucks! Axel's shower show, and...and Chet slamming his dick into his face...

More giggling, and then a groan. "Ahhhh...that's fucking great, bro," Chet said. "Squeeze harder. Ahhhhh...fuck yeah..."

The sounds moved closer to Kieran; the brothers were headed to the back of the barn. The noises of sloppy kissing grew louder, interspersed with exhortations for Axel to feel Chet up more. They were right below Kieran now. The horse was trying to breathe as gently as he could, but the situation was exciting him tremendously. Another pair of incestuous lovers...and such handsome ones, too. The stallion slowly rolled over onto his side, trying not to make a sound, and gently scraped away the hay until the slats of the loft were revealed. They had been roughly fitted, with many gaps between them, and Kieran angled his head until he could see the brothers below him.

Chet was on his back atop a bale of hay, with Axel straddling him, kissing him deeply and grinding his ass against the zonkey's crotch. It was easy to superimpose the wonderful mental images from earlier and imagine Axel's tight butt sandwiching his brother's fulsome sheath. The stallion took his dick in hand again. He'd tell Dad all about this later. He'd find it fucking hot.

Axel lifted his head and sighed. "Shit, Chet, I need this..."

"What do you need, slut?" The zonkey sounded infinitely amused, and one hand reached up to tweak at his brother's nipple through his tight shirt, then rub down his abs. "Say it."

"Mmmmfff..." Axel squirmed a little, but seemed pleased. A game, then. "I need your thick donkey dick, bro." He took one of his brother's long ears in hand and stroked it. "I need it stuffing my ass...and pumping me full of you." He grabbed his shirt and tugged it off, then pressed his hands against his brother's pecs, groping them. "I wanna spend all night chatting to everyone, feeling your cum drooling out of me, soaking into my underwear..."

"Yeah." Chet's eyes were bright. "That's what I thought. Stand up, you pretty little stallion slut."

Axel slid off his brother, and Chet quickly pushed down his pants, braying softly as his hardened dick flopped free. Kieran's hand on his dick tightened at the sight. Chet was unbelievably thick. Not as long as Kieran, even, but so much thicker it didn't matter. The zonkey's monster dick would wreck even the loosest hole -- but Axel was clearly well aware of that. He stared at the exposed penis with open-mouthed hunger, and then tugged off his own pants as quick as he could, the gorgeous -- and more normally proportioned -- dick from earlier stabbing out into the late afternoon air. One hand reached around to his rear, and with a slutty ohhhhh, he pulled a plug out of his ass and tossed it aside. How long had that been there? Kieran hadn't noticed it when he was showering -- although he had been a little distracted by all the stallion's other attributes.

Axel straddled his brother once more, positioning his ass until the donkey flare caught his ring, and gave a shuddering sigh. "Yes...breed me, handsome..."

"Still wet?" Chet asked, and Axel nodded vigorously.

"Yes, stud. Kept last night's present in. All nice and gooey and warm for you." He leaned down to kiss his brother again. "Top me off, bro."

Chet grunted and thrust his hips, and his bottle-dick squeezed into his brother's hole. A tease of cum squirted out around the edges, but then Axel was fully sealed again. The pink beast slid deeper, Axel's dark ring stretching like elastic to fit his brother inside himself. The noises he made were guttural and desperate, and seemed to drive Chet to greater heights of lust. The zonkey gripped his brother's sides and pushed in harder, braying loudly, until the final inch of his dick was buried inside Axel -- and then he pulled the entire thing out, and thrust it right back in.

Kieran did have to put a hand to his mouth to smother the moan at that. The brothers clearly knew one another's bodies very well, because if Chet tried that on him, it would split him open. But Axel simply moaned louder and rode his brother's hammering cock like it was nothing. Talented little cocktease, then. Kieran's hand slid up to his flare and squeezed. He didn't know how long the two of them would be at this, and he wanted to cum while he watched.

"Harder, Chet...harder...yes...fuck, you're so thick, bro...fuck my pretty ass...wreck my hole, bro, it's yours, do it..."

Kieran's imagination ran wild. What if the barn doors opened now, and Dad was there? What if he walked up to the brothers and took his own dick out, and started jerking off onto Chet's thick muscles? What if Kieran went down and started rimming his dad as he masturbated, making him cum all over Chet's body, and making Dad lick it off while he fucked his beautiful, pert asshole...

He tried too hard with that image. The orgasm was suddenly there, roiling at the base of his dick, unable to be stopped. Shit! He could feel a whinny climbing up his throat, and in panic, he slapped both his hands to his mouth, desperate to contain the betraying noise. His cock jerked loosely in the air, and he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to push the whinny back down. Every muscle clenched as he pulled on every part of himself that he could feel to block the sound from coming out, and he felt the orgasm rising, rising -- and dissipating.

No, no, noooo...!

His brain was experiencing utter confusion. He was feeling pleasure -- but not the same peak he got from cumming. The orgasm was there, so close he could almost touch it...but somehow unreachable. Already settling back down to general low-level horniness. His dick was softening, too. What the fuck? He hadn't cum! Why was his body acting like he had?

The whinny had also melted away in his throat, and he took his dick in hand again, squeezing it to try to bring it back to life. It ignored him. He masturbated it desperately, and a dribble of cum oozed out -- but it didn't get any harder than putty. He squeezed his balls and teased out yet more cum, but it simply dribbled out onto his belly, gathering into a puddle like a sullen teenager. It didn't shoot out, and it didn't feel good. It was as if his orgasm had been torn away moments from its peak, and replaced with...nothing.

Kieran let his head flop back onto the straw, frustration surging through him. Why him? What had he done that he wasn't allowed to just cum today? Would Dad be the solution, tonight? He fucking had to be, now. While the faux orgasm had lessened his need a little, he could still feel the invisible clamp on his balls: tightening slowly, but consistently. They still demanded the full service.

Below him, it sounded like the brothers were approaching their own climaxes, oblivious to the struggling stallion above them. Kieran shakily rolled over again to peer down through the crack. The forgotten cum, still pooled on his belly, followed his motion and splashed onto the wooden floor, immediately oozing down through a crack.

SHIT!

Kieran stared in terror as his semen slid between the wooden boards and formed a huge, pearlescent droplet on the underside -- right above the violently fucking brothers. No, no, no, no... He tried to reach for it, but his finger was too large to fit in the gap. The droplet grew larger as more cum trickled down, and he frantically flicked away what liquid he could. It grew some more, now large enough to be noticed, if it were to -- say -- splash onto your back while you were being filled by your brother's incredibly thick donkey dick.

Kieran's heart, only barely slowed from his failed orgasm, went right back to slamming into his ribs. He stared at the droplet of his cum as if it was the most important thing in the world. It was almost motionless now, seemingly frozen...but only almost. With agonising slowness, it grew downward, the fluid link holding it to the wood thinning, thinning...

Axel's scream of ecstasy, hurled from a mouth flung up to the sky as his dick exploded between his legs, probably did it. The disturbed air wafted up, and the droplet completed its detachment. Straight down it fell, as if aimed: right towards Chet's mouth, opened wide to scream a carnal response to his brother's ass-clenching orgasm. Right down his throat.

Chet didn't notice at first, lost as he was in pleasure, but when he lowered his head with a shudder and smacked his lips, he definitely did.

"Got some of your cum in my mouth, I think." The zonkey swallowed, and blinked. "Oh -- that's nice. Are you eating differently lately?"

"Nu-uh," Axel said. Chet's cock was deflating, and slowly slipping out of the zorse's rear -- alongside a wash of semen. "Must be all the wholesome air out here. Hey -- take it slow!" Kieran saw his ass tightening around the cock as it slithered out of him. "Wanna keep it all inside."

"Such a cum pig," Chet said with a chuckle. "Is that plug gonna hold it all in, piggy?"

"Nah," the zorse said as his brother's cockhead flopped out onto his leg, thick as a sex toy. He carefully slid off his brother and went to pick the plug up from where he'd tossed it. He walked with his legs close together and his tail held down. "No plug on the planet could keep your whole load in, Captain Sploosh." Chet smirked again and put his hands behind his head. His chest was shining with sweat, and cum soaked his cock. Kieran wanted to lick every inch of him.

Axel slid the plug back up inside himself with a pleased expression. "Ahhh...yeah. There." He patted his rear. "All set. It'll ooze out all evening, zonkadonk." He walked back to his brother and waggled his ass in his face. "Gonna be sitting in a small pool of your jizz for hours. You can smell my jock later and think about that."

"Yeah, while I fuck another load into that gorgeous ass." The zonkey got up and gave his brother a kiss. "Love ya, bro."

"Love you too, cutie." The zorse looked around. "Alright. Let's get back before the old men see we're gone. You know how Dad gets. Any idea where Kieran is?"

"Hiding out somewhere, jerking off to the image of your cute butt, I bet." The brothers laughed as they exited the barn, and the sound of their voices slowly faded. Kieran took a deep breath and allowed his muscles to relax. Well. That had been a fucking disaster. He slapped at his sheath, but his cock ignored it. Fuck you too, then, you soft asshole. A real soft asshole would be so good right now, though...except he apparently couldn't get hard enough to fuck one. Fuck!

After a short while, the stallion judged that enough time had passed that the brothers would be back inside. He climbed down from the loft, sparing a moment to walk over to the hay bale the brothers had been fucking on, and look at the wet pool Axel had left next to it. Mere hours after his first tremendous orgasm, he still managed this much. Zebra balls; Kieran was rather jealous.

He peered through the ajar barn doors to make sure the brothers weren't nearby, then quickly slipped out and headed in the front door of the house. He took a deep breath, and sauntered through the living room, heading to the kitchen. Chet was there, washing the potatoes. He glanced over and smiled at Kieran.

"Hey, Kit. Where you been?"

"Around." He grabbed a grape from the fruit bowl and popped it into his mouth. The little tension he'd relieved from his aching nuts had at least freed up some mental energy. He felt as if he could interact with other people normally again, now that his brain wasn't constantly running the word "SEX" across his vision in massive glowing neon. "Need any help?" he said, crunching down on the fruit.

"Nah, man," Chet said. "We're imposing on you, don't be silly. Grab another beer and relax. We'll sort it all out."

"Well, alright then," the horse said with a smile, tipping a non-existent hat at the zonkey. "Thanks."

He pushed the screen door open and plonked down into a chair, reaching for a beer. Axel was building up a fire, and Kieran sipped his drink, his eyes gliding up and down the zorse's rear. Was that a hint of wetness he could see in between those pert ass-cheeks? His ass full of his brother's donkey load, with only a plug holding it in. Capable at any moment of coming loose, and releasing the flood, soaking his underwear, his pants...shit, fucking all of him in fragrant, gooey zonkey semen...

"Figured out fire yet, bitch, or do I need to go find a big black monument?"

Chet barged onto the porch from indoors, and Kieran dropped his eyes to the table. Axel stood back, holding his hands dramatically towards the flickers of flame climbing his pile of charcoal.

"Behold. I am the fire lord. So suck my dick."

"In your dreams."

Kieran suppressed his laugh, then turned at the sound of a cantankerous car engine fighting its way up the road. A few minutes later, his father and Felix appeared, carrying bags.

"Food's here, boys!" Felix bellowed, lifting the plastic bags high. "How're things going here?" He peered at the fire. "Jeez, Axel, did you have to fetch the flames from fucking Olympus? I expected it to be further along than this." Then his head turned, and he sniffed curiously at his son -- but then moved away without saying anything. Kieran wondered if the zebra could ever guess at the source of Axel's new cologne.

"Sorry, Dad," the zorse said. "Had to help Chet out first. He couldn't figure out the vegetable peeler."

"Screw you, pretty boy, don't blame me."

The striped family continued to argue with good humour as Tristan rolled his eyes and carried the food indoors. Kieran gave him a smile when he returned, and Dad gave him a huge smile back. Such a handsome face. The two horses settled down as their guests fussed about with fires and food and cutlery, and Kieran slid his foot across, rubbing his hoof against his father's fetlock. The older stallion glanced at their guests, but they were only vaguely looking in their direction. He rubbed back, then held a finger to his lips for silence. As if Kieran was going to say anything. Pushing back from the table a little, he tugged his pants down a bit, showing off a couple inches of cock to his son, then quickly covering up again. Kieran licked his lips and made to do the same for his father -- before remembering his little problem. He compromised by tugging his shirt up a little to show off his firm belly; Dad seemed happy enough to ogle that. Sorry, Dad. Those fuckers broke my dick.

"So yeah," Felix said, thudding down back into his chair and grabbing another beer. The two horses whisked their vision away from one another. "What was I saying? Oh! The equipment. Yeah, so, the bank said they'd part-finance it, but they screwed me already when I got those automatic milkers for the dairy cows..."

Afternoon faded to evening as the brothers cooked, taking their sweet time about it, but when a steak like a small county slapped down onto Kieran's plate, he had to admit that they knew what they were doing with meat. Both kinds. The horse was famished, and dug in happily as sides and salads were passed around the table, rapidly diminishing as five hungry horses got to work.

Eventually, Tristan pushed his plate away, only a single rib-eye bone remaining of the small mountain of food he'd started with. He gave a huge, unselfconscious belch, which made Felix chuckle and Kieran look at him with shock. "Dad!" he said, and Tristan gave a lazy shrug.

"Please, Kit. Like that's the worst thing this bunch has heard at a dinner table." His father almost seemed in a chipper mood now. Perhaps the opportunity to show off his hard-earned body to his son earlier had helped him release a little tension. The big horse looked over at his zebra friend. "Felix, my memory's kinda gone to crap in my old age, but I think there's a fair chance that that steak was better than half the sex I've ever had."

"Well, damn," Felix said, picking at his teeth with a toothpick. "Gotta try harder next time. I won't be satisfied until the last bite makes you jizz your pants, Firehose."

Axel barked a laugh at that, but when his father's expression didn't change, he looked at him curiously. "Firehose? That sounds like a story, Dad..."

The zebra shrugged. "Eh, not really. When we still lived out here, that was the nickname the ladies in town had for your Uncle Tristan." He gave his horse friend a sly expression. "Heard more than one mare say she planned to spend the weekend getting a washing from a firehose. Shit -- a good few more than just one washing, if the rumours were true."

"Damn! Uncle Tristan, the town stud," Chet said with admiration. The zonkey looked at Kieran's father with respect; the horse felt like hissing at him. Back off. He's mine. "More like firehorse, though, am I right?" Axel rolled his eyes at the pun, and Tristan groaned.

But Kieran looked at his father and considered. They called Dad Firehose? That was...hilarious, partly, but also incredibly hot. He did cum a lot, but Kieran had never thought it was that exceptional. On reflection, though, perhaps he'd simply been accustomed to it. If memory served -- and his memories of fucking his father were as fresh as the day they'd been made -- It was about on par with what Axel had managed. And Axel had zebra genes going for him. Huh. So, Dad could add "big producer" on top of all his other big attributes.

Such a sexy stud.

"Did you have any favourites back then, Firehose?" Felix asked, poking his friend lightly in the side. "Justine always made those moon-eyes at you when you walked into the store."

"Ugh, no, she--" Tristan cut himself off, looking warily at Felix. "Oh no, don't get clever now. If I say anything, you'll never fucking let it go."

"Oh ho ho!" Felix roared, leaning eagerly to one side to look at Tristan. "Well, you shouldn't have said that, bud, because now I'm not stopping until I get a story." The horse shook his head repeatedly, as if trying to make the topic move along, but Felix was relentless. "Come ooooon. Come on! You know you want to. C'mooooon..."

"Think of the children, Felix," Tristan pleaded, gesturing at the three younger stallions around the table. But the zebra simply made a noise of dismissal.

"The children are all grown up, Tristan. They've probably done shit we wouldn't believe." You have no idea, Kieran thought to him. "I'll prove it," Felix added. The zebra's arm swung around. "Kieran. What's the best fuck you ever had?"

"Oh, no, come on now..." Tristan started to say, but Kieran took opportunity by the mane and shoved it into his pants.

"Last day of school. Locker room." The young horse didn't know where the bravery came from. Perhaps to save his dad from the questions, or a vain attempt to dispel his remaining neediness. But he knew for a fact that only one of the stallions at the table was straight, so maybe it was merely from a desire to...show off.

There was a pregnant pause in the air after he spoke, as if all the other equines had taken in a simultaneous breath. His father's eyes were wide as saucers, and Kieran stared right at him with a smile. Oh yes, Daddy. You showed me yours earlier; time to show mine.

"Now that sounds like a fucking story!" Felix hollered, looking at the young horse with an impressed expression. "A final fling with a classmate before the end, bud?" His voice lowered a little, and his smirk grew. "Or...a teacher?"

That'd do. "Yeah," the horse said, sounding casual even as his heart thumped. He was really gonna do this. It was naughty and thrilling and so erotic. Axel was sitting there with his brother's cum leaking out into his underwear, and Dad over there; his cock probably doing the same. If it isn't drooling yet, Dad, it will be after I'm done. A table full of secrets. He'd spin a tale for them, and they'd never know the unbelievable truth, even though it was sitting right in front of them. Like two brothers who fucked in a barn and didn't tell anyone.

It was a rush.

Felix and his sons were watching the horse with focused looks. "Well, c'mon, bud," Felix goaded. "Gotta give us more than that. What subject did she teach, at least?"

"He taught, uh, Life Skills," the stallion said. One life skill, anyway: how to fuck. He also noted the flash of excitement that appeared on the zebra's wide face when he said he, but nobody commented on the casual correction of his sexuality. "I'd liked him for a while, and we'd been...fucking for a few months." A few months of constant, horny action. Dad had been insatiable, as if he'd been saving himself up for his son his entire life. "I went to say goodbye to all my teachers on the last day. You know. Before I headed out." Dad had driven him there, and joined him; the town was small, and he knew most of the teachers by name.

"So, I went around all the classes, did my thing. The...uh, the teacher said I should pop by when I was done." That was a total fabrication. "So, I did, and we went for a bit of a walk, just checking out the school one last time." Dad had attended the very same high school, and kept saying how much things had changed. New buildings here, new paint there. Kieran called it his old-man commentary. "Somehow, we ended up near the pool, and he, uh..." His mouth was dry. The memories became so vivid as he walked through them again, and his balls ached...but his dick was still doing a dead worm impression. "He turned to me, and said, `Last chance to be the schoolboy that fucked his d--teacher'."

"Heh. Sounds like a horndog," Felix said. His eyes were glued to Kieran. "Wait -- was he a dog?"

"Nah, a -- a horse."

"'course he was," Chet drawled. "Kieran wouldn't settle for anything but the best. Horse dick always wins." He seemed to realise what he'd said, and added, "After donkey, of course. And zebra."

A ribald chuckle ran around the equines, and Kieran blushed and tried to remember the story. His father had slowly leaned back in his chair, and then slid down towards the floor. Kieran knew that move. Let the table hide your fat hard dick, Daddy, while I tell the nice people about the fun we had.

"Fucking right," he shot back to Chet, feeling bold. Just like you, brotherfucker. "He pulls me into the pool area, and he's kissing me next to the bleachers, and I was freaking out that someone would see, but his lips were so soft and nice...fuck, he's a good kisser."

"Is? You still fuck?" Axel interjected.

"Uh, no, I mean..." The horse shrugged his misspeak away. "Once a good kisser, always a good kisser, right?" He hurried on. "So, finally he agrees, and we go into the locker room, and close the door. And he -- he just throws himself at me, like an animal. Kissing every part of my face, and pulling up my shirt, and kissing everything under it...and tugs down my pants...like..." Like he knew I was leaving for three years in only a couple of weeks. "And I'm up against the wall, and it's just really fucking nice, and then he...gets to my dick...and swallows it whole...fuuuuck. It was fucking awesome." Dad had put the lessons he'd learned on that rainy afternoon in the train station to good use. The feeling had blown Kieran's mind.

"But he only sucks me off for a bit. Then he starts climbing my body again with his kisses, and he starts talking dirty. `Bet you've spied on a lot of naked guys in here over the years.' That was hot. Immediately made me think of all the studs in my year. So many sexy guys. `Bet you jerked off at home to them a lot. Did you ever jerk off to me?' Told him I did. Only in the previous year or two, though. I thought it -- well, it was wrong, for a bit. Like, in my head. My dick didn't care. Used to change the face in my head at first, pretend it was a movie star or someone else. Or say a different name when I came. But I knew it was always him. Got harder and harder not to look at him. To wonder what was under the clothes."

The stallions may as well have been dead, such was the silence at the table. Kieran grabbed his beer and took a mouthful. Retelling the story had made his mouth dry. "So, I tell him all that, and he's licking along my neck, and he gets to my ear, and he just about swallows it, and he whispers back, `I know. I could see how you've looked at me this year. Horny stallion eyes. Scared the shit out of me -- but not as much as how much it turned me on. Just didn't know how to make it happen.'"

"Then he steps back, and walks around the locker room, taking off his clothes. Big guy, tall, good body. Fantastic dick. It's bouncing around, getting hard, and he's smelling the air and growling like a fucking horny beast. Says `Teen hormones, teen sweat, teen spunk. Who doesn't fucking love it, huh?' And then he's walking back to me, naked as fuck, dick like a shotgun, aimed right at me, and he fucking...tears my clothes off." Kieran mimed a ripping action. "Like, ruins them. Rips the fabric, like he literally can't wait to get me naked. He's breathing really hard, and I'd never seen him that turned on. Like, before, he had kinda a...nice-guy attitude? So considerate and sweet. But this was...fuck, he was someone else. And I couldn't fucking resist it. And he says, `Turn around, boy', and his voice is..." The stallion shook a little. "I never heard him say anything like that before. I'd have fucking done anything he wanted. So, I turn around, and he's all around me, and then his dick's at my hole, and I was fucking terrified, `cos he was so big...but I was so horny, I couldn't have stopped, and..."

The stallion stopped and took a deep breath in. "Uh, so...we fucked. And it was fucking hot. And...yeah. Last day of school, I nutted against the wall of the locker room, and just left it there. My bit of school legacy." He grabbed the beer again and gulped down the liquid, waiting for someone to speak.

"Holy fucking shit." Axel was first. Of course. "That's way fucking better than my last day of school. Hot damn."

His words snapped the spell, and the other equines laughed. "Didn't you spend the last day in detention, Chet?" Felix asked.

"Yeeeep. Mr Pappendorf." The zonkey sighed. "He really thought he could make me a better person. Through detention. Weird guy."

"That's nothing," Tristan said. "I had a teacher -- Ms Geoffrey? -- who kept a bag of these smelling salts in her drawer..."

Like a tide washing away footsteps, the assemblage drifted on from Kieran's story. The young stallion kept an eye on his father; he gradually slid back up his chair, but it took a good while. You're welcome, Dad. He felt good; he'd given his father an erection without touching him. Second best thing to giving him an erection in his ass. But he'd address that later that night, definitely.

When the time came to retire, Kieran was terribly casual about it. "So, listen," he said, addressing their guests, "you guys can take my room, it's no problem. I'll sleep in my Dad's room, and there's a couch that should fit..."

Oh," Felix said breezily, "don't worry, bud. You don't need to do that. Who wants to sleep with their dad, huh?" The stallion tamped down the brief flare of fear. They didn't know. They couldn't. "Those beds won't handle two muscled studs like your Dad and I--" Felix continued.

"Dream on, pops."

"--or Chet's fat ass at once, so I think...Axel can sleep in your Dad's room, you and I take your room, and Chet can grab the sofa."

Kieran wanted to scream. He wanted to scratch out the zebra's eyes, and kick him in the nuts, and yell no, no, no, you fucking helpful piece of shit, you're ruining everything, just SHUT the FUCK UP and give me five FUCKING minutes to suck my FUCKING dad's fucking COCK!

"Great plan, Felix," he said.

He was done. Reality itself conspired against him. His very body betrayed him. He simply didn't have the energy to try anymore. The few days that had seemed so manageable at the airport that morning now stretched out into the distant future as impassable obstacles. He'd be dead by then, he was sure. His balls would explode in the night, killing him and obliterating everything nearby with the power of the detonation. Perhaps he could leave a note. Dear Dad. Wanted to fuck you, but every atom of existence made it impossible. PS: Chet's fucking Axel.

Sigh.

He looked at his father, trying to convey how he felt. I tried, Dad. Sorry. His father's expression was carefully neutral; did he understand what Kieran had been trying to do? He must. Ugh.

The horse stomped upstairs behind Felix. His father and Axel followed behind. When he reached the spare room, he sighed. "I'm gonna take a shower," he told Felix.

"Another one?" the zebra asked.

"Yeah." His father had bought some new piping while in town, and repaired the indoor shower earlier. I don't need to answer to you. Mind your own business.

The hot water was the most pleasurable thing he'd felt against his body all day, which was depressing. Kieran stood in the shower, staring down at his dick. A couple inches of it hung from his sheath, soft as dough. He gave it a half-hearted jerk, but it didn't respond. He simply couldn't understand. Had he broken his dick? He'd felt like he was having an orgasm...and there'd been temporary relief...but his balls hadn't completely emptied, and the ache hadn't subsided. He'd felt better, for a bit...and then he'd gotten too clever, and told the story about Dad fucking him in the showers at school. And now he was just as horny as he'd been before -- except robbed of the ability to relieve himself.

He tried to imagine his father, as vividly as he could. His scent, his taste, the feel of his muscles under a wandering hand...but his dick simply dropped a little more and remained as flaccid as before. Kieran ground his teeth in frustration and finished washing himself off. This was bullshit. Fuck! Perhaps a night's sleep would help.

A night's sleep next to someone else's dad.

The stallion looked up the corridor to his father's door as he crossed from the bathroom to the spare room. He was almost ready to murder every over-helpful zebra in the world by now. Why couldn't he have kept his stupid stripey mouth shut? He could be in there with Dad now. Dad would fix this. He could tease Kieran's dick to hardness with a nice wet sheath-job. Ugh. Stop thinking about sex, dumbass!

The stallion pushed the door open distractedly -- and caught himself before he fell over his own feet. Felix was lying on one side of the bed, one leg raised, resting a book against it. Between his nude thighs, a black zebra dick rested against the bedspread. He looked at Kieran, peering over a pair of reading glasses. "That was quick." Then he glanced down at himself. "Oh...I hope this isn't a problem? I usually sleep nude."

No, it's fine, I can't get hard anyway. Apparently. "No, yeah, that's cool," the horse equivocated. He put his toiletries down on a side table and slipped under the blankets on his side of the bed. It made sense, really: a weird end to a frustrating day. He'd ended up in bed next to a dad after all...just not the one he'd hoped for.

"Well, g'night," he started to say, turning to face away from the zebra and tugging the blankets up to his chin, but the zebra cut him off.

"Do you like massages, Kieran?"

"Um..."

Felix carried on speaking as if the answer didn't matter. "Nothing like a massage, right out of the shower. Never had one?" The zebra kissed his fingers. "Mwah! Wonderful. Muscles are all warm and half-relaxed, and the massage gets you the rest of the way. You drift off to sleep, and wake up more refreshed than you would believe."

"Oh...cool..." Kieran stared at the wall. The zebra said nothing more for a moment, and the horse dared to believe that might be the end of the conversation. He didn't really feel like discussing massages with his childhood friends' naked dad as they lay in bed together. Today had already been strange enough.

The papery slap of a book closing put paid to that hope, though. The bed jostled a bit, and Kieran felt a big hand grasping his exposed shoulder. "Here -- I'll show you," Felix said, in a voice quieter than his usual blustery volume. His unrequested fingers began to squeeze gently, working their way from the horse's neck, down to the edge of his shoulder, and then to just below the shoulder blade. Kieran almost said something then. The thought crossed his mind: telling Felix to stop and leave him alone, and then going to sleep to put an end this irritating day, and maybe dreaming of a better one. But he couldn't.

Because as weird as he knew it was, with his back to Felix, it was all too easy to imagine they were his father's hands.

The hands continued to work at his muscles, and he winced as a thumb found a knot under the skin. "You're so tense, bud," Felix murmured. "That flight must have been really rough, huh?" Not a single person in this family must ever have flown on a plane, because they seemed to think air travel was like being strung up on a rack. The thumb worked around the area, pressing and shifting the horse's muscles -- and when the knot came loose, Kieran gasped. "Yeah, see, bud?" the zebra asked. "How good does that feel? C'mon -- roll onto your belly, and I can do this properly."

The stallion paused for a moment, feeling the pressure of the zebra's big hands against his side. Just like Dad. Wordlessly, he shifted, his face pressing into the puffy pillows, his back exposed. His still-soft dick pressed into the bed, too, but it wasn't like there was anything to worry about there. He felt like Felix could slap him in the face with Dad's own dick at this point and his sheath wouldn't so much as stir.

"Now we're talking," Felix said, his voice still uncharacteristically soft. He shifted onto his knees and began working the full width of Kieran's back. The horse had to admit that it felt really good. The zebra knew what he was doing, and knot after knot came undone under his experienced digits. There was a pleasure to the way the pain built slightly as he struggled with a particularly tricky spot -- and then dissipated as he worked the fibres loose. Down he moved, sliding back and forth, handling the lower back...and then, when that was done, moving to Kieran's ass.

The fingers against his glutes made the horse's hole jerk. He'd drifted away a little under the zebra's hands, imagining they were his father's, but feeling a hand on his ass brought him back. Felix must have felt the clench too, because he chuckled and apologised.

"Sorry. Should have said something." But his hand didn't move. "It's...easier when I can see the skin, though. Is it all right if I pull these down?"

Reasons to say no flitted through the horse's head. None of them were more convincing than continuing to pretend that it was his father touching him with those strong, careful hands. "Sure," the horse said.

The zebra's thumbs slid into the elastic of his boxers, and smoothly they were pulled down to his thigh. A second surprise: with a grunt, the zebra straddled his legs. "Easier from this angle," was the only reasoning he gave. Kieran accepted it. His eyes were closed. Dad was sitting atop him.

The hands began to press his ass-cheeks, working them as thoroughly as they'd worked his entire back. They slid up again, and did another pass along his upper back, sliding around to his sides, just about slipping to the front of his chest. Kieran felt so warm.

"That was quite a story you told today," Felix murmured, as if pointing out the lint on the pillows. His hands didn't stop what they were doing. "Pretty lucky for you, huh?" The horse didn't reply, and the zebra kept going. "Reminded me of a similar thing I had in my senior year. Not a teacher, though. Just a friend. A good friend."

He shifted up Kieran's body a little, his weight now resting right at the top of his thighs. "Was in the middle of the final year. Exams are coming up, you're trying to figure out where you go after that...everything's about to change, ya know. And that makes you start seeing things differently. School's this kinda...before-world, and you can finally stand up and see all of it, and all the things you should have done differently. All the things you never did at all." Kieran felt new motion against his skin, right between his cheeks. Like a finger sliding languidly up his skin. A pretty thick finger. With a wet tip. "During those last months of final year, we'd hang out like we'd done for years. Nothing new between us. Nothing we hadn't already said a hundred times before."

The zebra's dick rested along his entire ass now, the weight making it fit snugly into his crack. He could still imagine it was Dad.

"And the one day, he just looked at me, and he said, hey, you wanna try something? And I said sure. And we went down to the locker rooms, just like you did. Same old locker rooms. I can still smell `em. You know what I mean. Guy smell. And my friend, he gives me this weird look. And he steps real close and...he kisses me. And then he steps back, and I'm not sure what to say, because...well, what do you say? And he's looking at me, and licking his lips, and I'm looking back, and...he does it again. A bit longer. Bit deeper."

Kieran felt the zebra lift his weight a little, and shift it back. Then forward. Then back again. Slowly rubbing his dick against the horse's ass.

"And then," Felix said, and his voice was still low, but now hoarse, too, "he just turns around, and tugs down his pants, and there's...there's his ass. And I just...stared. And all I could think is, well, shit...this guy's a real close friend, and that didn't feel so bad. So...I reach for his ass. Give it a squeeze. It's nice. And it looks nice. Like yours." The zebra stopped massaging the horse, and used one hand to push his dick deeper into the gap between Kieran's cheeks. The young stallion could feel the pre-cum dribbling down his crack now, pooling around his hole as the zebra frotted himself against his rear. "And he just says, hey...lemme feel you against me. So I whip it out...and rub it against him."

The zebra's breathing was definitely hoarser now, and his cock was almost fully hard. His hands pressed into the bed on either side of Kieran, supporting his weight over the horse, the faint scent of sweat building in the air. "And I rubbed...and rubbed...and kept going...until--"

Stop talking, Kieran thought. Please. Felix's irritating story about his first time with a guy was making it hard to imagine him as Dad. Kieran simply wanted this one, tiny, pathetic, barely satisfying moment to work in his favour...and by some miracle, it did. The zebra stopped talking, and the only sounds left in the room were grunts, and heavy breathing, and the squeak of bed springs.

Kieran could sense the body suspended over him, radiating heat. Perhaps the massage had stimulated his skin, but it felt hotter than the shower water had been. And without sight, the dick sliding back and forth along his crack felt exactly like Dad's. Dad, pleasuring himself against his son's body, grunting like a bull in rut. He was simply a sex toy for his big stud of a father, tonight. A thing to be used to make him happy. And happy he certainly was, as the now-constant dribble of pre-cum across his hole was proving. It pleased Kieran to please his father. He only wanted him to be happy, and his body was just another tool to achieve that.

Dad was moving faster now, his breathing ragged. He was getting close. Dad was going to finish on him, because that was right. They belonged together, as close as they now were, forever, and the gifts of their bodies belonged only to each other. Father and son...lover and lover.

The bray of the zebra's climax was choked off, and Kieran felt Felix -- no, no, shit, focus, it was Dad -- freeze. A splatter of wetness landed on his back. The zeeb-Dad didn't shoot very far; almost disappointing. Probably wanked too much earlier while thinking about his son.

Four or five shots and a final dribble, and the deed was done, it seemed. He hung over Kieran for a moment, sucking in air, and then sat back against the horse's thighs. Something soft rubbed across the stallion's back; a cloth, cleaning up the mess. He lay still, letting it happen. Dad took care of him, after he'd taken care of Dad...

"Thanks, bud," the zebra grunted, his western country accent shattering the illusion. Kieran lay still as the zebra climbed off him and settled in under the blankets next to him. No reciprocation for the horse, then. Like it mattered. He lay unmoving, his body a tomb for his own arousal. Only when a loud snore started next to him did Kieran slide out of bed, sitting on the edge and looking down at his dick.

Still soft as pigshit.

The horse sighed, lay back down, and tried to fall asleep.

When Kieran woke, Felix was gone. The horse lay on his back for a moment, blinking up at the ceiling, collecting his thoughts. There was something he'd meant to do, something he wanted to...oh!

He slid a hand under the covers and into his boxers, and a half-hard stallion cock greeted him. A quick stroke made it swell further, and the horse sighed in relief. Well, that had sorted itself out at least. He squeezed his flesh, remembering the rest of his evening. How Felix's dick had slid against and between his cheeks, stimulating the zebra as Kieran imagined it was his father. It could so easily have been. It could even be right now, if he was lucky.

He could hear noises downstairs as he gently massaged his cock to full mast. Their guests sure were busy little bees. If Axel had already gone downstairs, Dad might be alone in his room. Kieran could slip out, hurry across the landing, and slide into his room. Shut the door, dive under the covers, and happily gag on his dad's long cock for a few glorious minutes...

A clatter of hoofsteps outside was all the warning the horse got before Felix burst into the room. "Rise and shine, honeycakes," he bellowed, seeming oblivious as always to the situation. Kieran's hand froze, buried in his pants, but blessedly hidden by the mound of blankets above him. "Got a full farm breakfast for you downstairs," the zebra said, snapping the curtains open, "and then we need to get packed and head out!" He rubbed his hands together excitedly. "It's going to be fantastic, bud! Just look at that day!"

Kieran looked. A brightly sunny day hung over wispy clouds, and the leaves of the beech tree outsides shifted about in the light wind. Visibility would be perfect. A wonderful day for riding. A terrible day for getting time alone with Dad.

The zebra was already heading out of the room. "If you take too long," he said over his shoulder, "Chet's gonna have finished anything vaguely edible, so I really suggest being quick. Never mind half donkey, he's fucking half hyena." He vanished down the passage, and Kieran watched him go with a sigh. Perhaps he needed a mantra to repeat to himself to get him through this.

Just a few more days. Just a few more days. Just a few more days of no sex with Dad...

Yeah, that didn't help at all.

He dressed in some of the few clothes he'd brought with him from university, and headed downstairs. The smell of food was breath-taking -- but as soon as the breakfast table came into view, he knew he'd made an error. Four equines in full cowboy gear stared at his skinny jeans and t-shirt, and were silent for only a second before the hooting began.

"Well, gosh, now, y'all." Chet was affecting his twangiest accent, with a shit-eating grin on his face and holding a half-eaten sausage on a fork. He doffed his Stetson at Kieran. "We got ourselves a real city slicker here." Even his father was smiling, although Kieran would have said that was more with delight than amusement. He blushed and made as if to go upstairs, but his father spoke and stopped him.

"Kieran's as much a rancher as any of you striped slackers," he said. He looked pointedly at Felix. "More than your dad was when he first started, even. Do you boys know they used to call him the Three Time Champ? 'cos it took him three goes to get things right. They loved him down at the supply store. `Same as last time, Champ?' they'd ask. Was reeeeal funny."

Felix was looking at his friend with open-mouthed astonishment. "Oh, that's fucking brutal, Tristan. What happened to secrets between friends?"

His father shrugged and picked up his coffee. "Dunno. Ask Firehose, maybe he knows." A noisy slurp couldn't cover the sound of Felix's sons bursting into laughter, and Kieran's wardrobe choices were forgotten. Kieran looked at the warm eyes that stared back at him over the rim of the coffee cup and felt his heart skip a beat. I don't deserve you, handsome.

"Axel! Fucking manners, please!" Felix snapped. Axel had flicked a piece of egg at his father, and the zebra brushed his mane clean with irritation. The zorse ignored the flat stare his father gave him.

"Lemme try once more, Dad," the zorse said. "Open your mouth. Maybe I can be the Two Time Champ." He cackled when his father flipped a finger at him.

"Besides," Tristan continued, as if oblivious to the others, "Kieran's got nothing else to wear right now."

"Why, did you sell everything when you left to study?" Chet asked, reaching for another helping of mushrooms. Kieran remembered what Felix had said and moved closer, grabbing a plate and dishing himself up some food before it all disappeared down the zonkey's gullet.

"Uh, no, it should all still be in...my room..." the stallion said slowly, dropping a hash brown onto a pile of scrambled eggs as yellow as the sun. In fact, it was all in his and his father's shared closet. In their bedroom.

"That won't fit you anymore, though, son," Tristan said knowingly, looking over the lip of his coffee cup at his son. "You were eighteen the last time you wore that stuff, don't forget. You've put on a lot more muscle since then."

Oh, Daddy...you noticed.

"He has, huh?" Felix said, as if he hadn't literally rubbed one out against Kieran's naked body hours before. "Buff city slicker, then."

"He's gonna wrangle the steers all by himself!" Chet crowed. "Less work for us!" He grabbed half a sausage off his brother's plate. "Nice and easy ride, then."

"This ain't a wrangling trip, dumbass," Axel snorted. "Lucky for you, too, `cos one look at that ugly mug and he'd be calling the vet to chop off your nuts before you started breeding."

"Um, actually, no you," Chet fired back, setting off a cavalcade of bickering that Kieran ignored. The brothers took some getting used to, that was for sure.

The horse took a seat directly next to his father, looking at the stallion with a smile, trying to convey his pleasure at his father's support of his. His father smiled back in silent praise, and the young stallion blushed again, lowering his head and digging into his food to hide the glow. Weirdly, this little game they were playing was...fun. Frustrating as fuck, sure. But dodging Felix and his sons, being semi-obvious about their affections with double entendres, and sexy games and stories -- he preferred this to simply hiding what they had. Like Axel and Chet did. Or, apparently, their father.

That family sure had a lot of secrets.

"Axel," Tristan said, carefully putting down his now-empty coffee cup, "don't you have anything that Kit could wear? You're about the same size."

Well, his balls are bigger, Kieran thought to himself, smirking into a forkful of bacon. Big, full, egg-sized zorse balls. Yum. Gimme a bunch of those for breakfast.

Axel considered, looking at Kieran. "I might do...we can go and see. You're about a ten, right? Eleven?"

"Yep." Kieran wolfed down the rest of his breakfast in record time, and let the cutlery clatter to the plate. "Let's go see, then!" Not that he'd tell them, but he was quite looking forward to putting on proper cowboy gear. It reminded him of the cowboy outfit his father had worn in his last video. It was pretty hard to make cowboys not look hot. Gonna put on sexy clothes for you, Daddy.

All the equines traipsed upstairs and into Tristan's bedroom, and Axel pulled out his spare clothes. Everyone had a suggestion, it seemed, with Tristan leading the pack for what his son should wear. That's right, Dad; I'm your horny little Ken doll. Dress me up all pretty for you. Kieran was duly stripped of his "boring-ass urban Starbucks pony outfit", as Axel put it, and eventually emerged from the room in an outfit that more or less melded with what the others had on.

His feet jingled as he walked down the stairs, and the spurs shone brightly in the sun when he stepped off the porch. Axel had a pair that clasped around the hoof, and while the zorse had dismissed them, Kieran's eyes had lit up, and he'd grabbed them. Spurs looked hot. Above them, his hocks were invisible under a pair of thick worked-leather pants; scratches, scuffs and a small tear near the inseam showed they'd seen plenty of actual farm work. The zorse might look as if he'd stepped off the cover of a magazine, but he had the clothes to get real work done. An even rougher leather belt completed the lower body, with an empty holster on one side, and a bright silver buckle in the centre.

The collar of a white shirt peeked out at his neck; the rest hidden below a thick blue denim jacket. A hat completed the effect; his father had dug through his closet and taken out one of his own, plonking it down on Kieran's head with a grin, then adjusting the position a little. "There," he said. "Now you're a real cowboy, Kit."

Kieran dipped the brim at his father. "Sure is good to be back, Dad," he drawled -- and then stumbled forward from the force of a massive slap on the back from Felix.

"You can take the cowboy out of the farm, but you can't take the farm out of the cowboy, hey, bud?" he chortled. "Looking good!" Kieran adjusted his hat, stuffed his irritation back down, and smiled faintly.

They headed down to the paddock with armfuls of gear and began loading up the horses. Tristan tossed his son a rope at one point, and the stallion caught it in one hand. His father nodded at it. "You remember how to use that?" he asked, smiling. Kieran chuckled, rubbing the stiff fibres between his fingertips.

"Some things you don't forget so easy, Dad," he said, moving a few steps away and starting to whirl the loop above his head. Yes, yes, yes. It felt so right, so good. His muscles were stronger than they'd ever been, and the rope moved like a liquid at his behest, swirling in a perfect circle. He stared up at in delight, remembering the many hours he'd trained with his father as a teenager to master the skill. "Heads up!" he yelled. "Gonna catch me that fucking big one over there!" A flick of his wrist sent the rope spinning through the air towards his father with speed and grace, like an elegant nylon trap...

And missed him completely.

As the loop flopped impotently to the ground next to Tristan, his crestfallen expression made his father chuckle in empathy, and the two brothers burst into laughter. Tristan walked over and put a hand around his son, looking at him in faux disappointment. "We got a lot to teach you again, huh, cowboy?" he said, and Kieran sighed and pulled the rope back, curling it up again, nodding with resignation.

"Yeah, yeah," he said. "Guess three years is longer than it feels." He considered the coils in his hand. "At least I can still spin it?" His father gave him a hug for that, his tight grip lingering a little longer than one might expect.

"That you can, Kit," he said affectionately. "The rest will come back, too, don't you worry." Kieran finished curling up the rope and stowed it on the side of his saddle before climbing up into it. This, at least, he had no worry of having forgotten; he'd been riding since he was ten, and nothing short of amnesia could erase that muscle memory. With a click of his tongue and a tug on the reins, his horse started moving, following the others as they headed west towards the hills that marked the location of the old gold mine.

The day was every bit as lovely as the weather had promised. The five stallions cantered along on their mounts, exchanging comments now and then, but mostly riding in silence. This was why they'd gone into this business, after all: spending as much time as possible in nature. Kieran lifted his head, eyes closed, and basked in the feeling of warm sunlight on his face, a breeze in his mane, and a dependable mount between his legs. This was all you really needed. On a day like this, when not a scrap of haze obscured the horizon, you felt like you could see to the edge of the world. With a rope in hand and fresh air filling your lungs, you could do anything.

Hoofsteps came alongside him, and he opened his eyes to see his father riding next to him. "Hey, Kit," he said softly. The crunch of five sets of hooves on gravel and rock mostly obscured his words, but he pitched his voice low anyway. "How are you doing?" The unspoken question weaved through the words, and Kieran sighed.

"Yeah, I'm...I'm alright, Dad," he replied. "It's so great to be home, I only...wish we could..." He gave a shrug, and Tristan nodded.

"I know. Me too." His face was so perfect, Kieran thought to himself. Such a warm expression. He wanted to stroke that muzzle and kiss those lips. A sudden gust of air caught his father's mane, tossing it into his eyes, and Kieran almost melted. That must have shown on his face, because his father's lips thinned, and he looked away before looking back. "It'll happen, Kit," he said. "Trust me." The words were forceful, and Kieran felt hope sprouting.

"Do you...have a plan?" he asked.

"I...kinda do. Do you trust me?" his father asked, and Kieran nodded.

"I do." Tristan smiled at him, and grew silent as Felix's horse fell back and the zebra pointed out an interesting rock formation to his friend. Kieran looked forward again, excitement fizzing in his belly. Dad had a plan. Fuck, yeah! The air suddenly smelled so much better. The colours were brighter. He was out on the range, with his father by his side, and soon they'd have a chance to be together again. This was bearable. He could get through this.

His father raised a hand next to him without looking at him, and snapped his fingers. Kieran grinned.

This is already over. We just don't know it yet.

It was early afternoon when they reached the river that tumbled down from distant heights and along the gully that became the valley where, a century before, gold had been found. The path down into the valley was long and serpentine, but this was the only point that it crossed the river. The waters flowed remarkably rapidly, this far downstream of the summit melts; a narrow stone bridge from the previous century remained the only way to cross the steep-walled gully. It looked safe enough -- as long as they went over one at a time.

Kieran was last in line -- and halfway across the bridge -- when he thought he heard an animal lowing. It was barely audible over the rushing of the waters, and he pulled up on the reins of his mount, frowning. Steers didn't typically end up out here; the hard terrain was too steep for them. He retraced his steps and dismounted, waving away his father's shouted question from the other side of the river. The ground became very uneven, away from the path, and he picked his way carefully down the slope. The lowing was clearer now, for sure: an animal was near.

His father's horse pulled up alongside his on the gravel track, and he called after his son. "Kit? What's going on?"

"I think there's a steer down here, Dad!" he yelled back. The river's path wound around a little, making it hard to see, but he spotted a horn sticking out. "Yeah," he shouted back, peering around the rocks. "Looks like it ended up in the river! Must have slipped down the slope and gotten stuck!"

His father was joined by the other three equines, and together they assessed the situation. The steer seemed to be caught, its foot wedged between two rocks. Furthermore, the rushing water around it was making it fractious. Anyone that got close would stand a good chance of being head-butted, or even stabbed with a horn. And that was before facing the unenviable task of forcing the huge, testy animal back up a muddy slope to safety.

"We could simply leave it?" Kieran suggested. It was cruel, but perhaps safer than risking bodily injury amongst the swirling water. One steer against the lives of friends and family. But his father shook his head.

"No, Kit. We can't just leave it there. It's not getting out by itself, and if it dies..." He sucked on a tooth. "This water feeds into the main dam. It'll be polluted for weeks."

The five equines discussed other options. The terrain was too rough to use their mounts to pull the steer out; the big animal would pull down anyone or anything that tried to rope him as their hooves struggled for purchase on the loose rocks. And no kind of equipment was making it up here except a helicopter -- and where would they get one of those?

"I think..." said Felix eventually, then pressed a finger to his lips and thought some more, peering this way and that. "Yeah," he said eventually. "So. See that bigger rock over there?" He pointed at a large, flatter rock very close to the steer. "If I stand on there, and stop him from moving any deeper, then Chet and Axel can go there..."

They made their plans. It wouldn't be much work to free the steer's foot and get him turned around, facing up the slope, but then they had to use his own strength to get him to escape. He was far too big Kieran offered his help, but Tristan shook his head.

"I appreciate it, Kit," he said, "but you've been out of things for a while. We've got enough people. We'll manage. The fewer down in there, the better." He gave his son a smile. "Thanks." Kieran knew his father was aware that he had more than enough strength to be of help, but he could read between the lines. I don't want you in danger.

"Alright," the young horse said. "I'll keep an eye on things up here."

The equines half-walked, half-slipped down the bank of the river and splashed carefully over to the steer. The animal looked at them with wild eyes, lowing pathetically. Felix made his way to the far side, striding manfully through the waters, and the other three approaching from the closer side. Chet knelt down to free the foot as Kieran's father held the neck steady, and Axel braced the rear.

"Almost there," the zonkey huffed, pushing rocks aside and tugging at the leg. "Damn cloven-hoofed jerks...why can't you just have a single hoof like -- ah!" The zonkey rocked back into the water as the leg came free. "Got it!" he yelled.

"Okay, Felix, give him a push from--woa, boy, woa!"

Kieran's blood froze. The steer, finally free, had jerked forward, catching his father unawares. The tall horse tumbled into the stream and the steer began to struggle forward -- away from the relatively accessible slope, and right towards an area of sharp rocks and white water. The air filled with shouts: Axel tried to grab the animal's tail, but had to duck out of the way of a kick. Felix could only push him from the side, which did nothing without him being reoriented. And Tristan was spluttering for purchase in the deeper pool of water he'd fallen into. Cries to "grab him!" and "stop the fucker!" filled the air, but the animal wasn't having any of it. Oblivious to anything except the loud equines behind him, and no longer being wedged in between two rocks, it simply wanted to get away. But it'd slip on the rocks ahead, and likely tip over and either be washed further downstream or simply drown. Either way, it wasn't going to survive.

It only took seconds for Kieran to take it all in. The animal would be beyond saving in moments, and his heart pounded at the sight of his father in trouble. His glands opened, and adrenaline flooded his system. GO, it screamed. GO GO GO GO GO! He turned and sprinted back to his mount, undoing his rope from the rope strap with preternatural speed. The adrenaline pounding through his veins left no space for thought: everything was instinct now. The rope came free, and he hurtled back down to the river. Only a few more seconds had passed, but the steer had struggled beyond the reach of his companions, into deeper, more difficult water. He could see his father about to make an attempt to wade in after it, but that wouldn't work. He'd be in danger of getting knocked over again, and either pummelled underfoot by the frantically windmilling legs of the animal, or knocked about by the stronger current, perilously close to a sharp, rocky outcrop.

"Dad!" he yelled, trying to get his father's attention. "Stay there!" His hands loosened the rope and had it spinning over his head while his eye judged the distance, the angle, the wind. He'd been overthinking it earlier. The rope was part of him, and three years was not nearly enough time to forget the first cowboy skill his father had ever taught him. He remembered the guiding words, and the way he'd shown his son how to make the rope spin, and fly, and land perfectly around its target. The cheer he'd received the first time he'd roped a dummy, and the huge hug he'd gotten. Now you're a real cowboy, son, just like me, his father had said. It had made him so happy. He'd practiced for endless hours, making sure that he was the best he could be. Eager to be the best his father had ever seen.

The rope flew through the air again, perfectly aimed; the loop fell right over the steer's head. Kieran pulled mightily back on it, tightening it around the animal's neck, and digging his hooves into the dirt. The steer caught up against the taut nylon and bellowed, fighting against the entrapment, surging forward with all the purchase its feet could find on the rocky river bottom -- but the stallion's hooves held fast, and his hands did not slip, and the animal was trapped.

The two brothers came boiling out of the river, hands grasping at the clay to propel themselves forward faster, and grabbed the rope alongside the horse, hauling on it as hard as they could. The three young stallions groaned, and screamed, and pulled with all their might. The steer's head was dragged around to face them, and the frantic animal's attempts to escape began to move it clear of the dangerous waters. Felix arrived next, grabbing the end of the rope and running it around a tree stump nearby for extra safety, then helping the younger males to pull on it. Tristan remained in the rover, pushing on the animal's backside. Chet gasped a rhythm. "Pull! Pull! Pull!" With each motion, the steer was forcibly moved a little more, until -- at last -- his hooves caught on firm ground, and the animal pulled itself up the slope and staggered onto flatter, drier land.

Kieran collapsed, exhausted. His arms ached with the effort of pulling against the huge animal's strength, and he gasped for breath as his father clambered up the gully walls and hurried over to him. "Dad..." was all the young stallion managed, before his sopping wet father pulled him to his feet and crushed him in a bear hug. Kieran gulped in relief, wrapping his arms around his father and squeezing back just as tightly. As the adrenaline faded, he started shivering, remembering what he'd seen. "I thought...you'd be hurt..." he mumbled into the crook of his father's arm, and the tall stallion squeezed even harder.

"You did good, Kit," he said, and Kieran's heart melted to hear the relief in his father's voice. "So good. But don't ever do that again, you dumb, crazy horse. You could have been pulled in! You could have been..." He didn't say more; merely squeezed harder. Kieran could barely breathe now, but he didn't care. Being this close to his father was wonderful. He felt like a kid again, protected by this big, strong, calm stallion that he adored. He nodded into Tristan's wet clothes.

"Sorry, Dad," he mumbled. "But I--I had to. I gotta protect you." He took a deep breath. "I need you." Like the grass needs sunlight. Like a stallion needs a mare...or a bigger stallion.

The older horse pulled back from him, tears running down his face, and he took his son's face in both hands, cupping his muzzle and staring at him lovingly. Kieran stared back, seeing how his father's tongue slipped across his lips. He didn't care what the others might think. He wanted to kiss his father here and now, a deep, beautiful kiss like the one they'd shared on the day he left. Is it now, Dad? Is this your plan? Is it going to happen now...?

But Tristan let his face go, shoving an arm roughly around his son's shoulders instead. He looked at Felix and his sons, and gave a goofy grin as he gestured at his son with his other hand.

"Now is that a cowboy, or is that a fucking cowboy, huh?" he yelled. "Kit the cowboy. Saving the fucking day! My fucking awesome son! Fuck yeah!" Kieran blushed, and squeezed a little closer to his father as the others cheered and applauded.

Kieran was king for the rest of the afternoon. Chet started it by calling him the River Wrangler, and his brother and father followed it up with praise and admiration for the quick thinking, his rope skill, his strength...and whenever the young horse looked over at his father, all he saw was a very happy stallion, bursting with pride and love and adoration. He deferred the compliments with alternating silent acceptance and quiet self-deprecation; he wasn't all that keen on being the centre of attention, but he was pleased that his actions seemed to have broken down a slight barrier that had sat between him and the others. He hadn't needed to prove himself to them -- but, since he had, they could now truly see him as one of their own. There were no more japes about his outfits, or being a city slicker. He was one of them.

They reached the campsite as the sun ducked below the hills, and got to work setting things up. An hour later, the pot of stew hanging over the fire was empty, and five full-bellied stallions lay about it, lying flat on their backs on bedrolls, or lazing with their backs against the ancient fallen tree trunks that had been dragged to the campsite for seating purposes. Owls hooted in the forest, and evening insects chirruped. Their mounts grazed off to one side. Everything was still, and wonderful.

A groan sounded out, and a hat rose from the ground. A hand moved it, and Chet's satiated face peered out at the others. "Shit," he said, looking around. "Did we remember to bring beer?"

"Ah, fuck!" Felix swore, slapping a hand angrily against his outstretched leg. "I knew I forgot something!"

"You can still drink?" Axel asked his brother in disbelief. He had his back to a tree, holding his hands to his belly as if he regretted everything.

"I can always drink, bro," the zonkey declared -- before releasing a tremendous burp that shattered the night's stillness. "Sorry."

"Well, I couldn't drink or eat another drop," Tristan declared.

Felix sighed. "Sorry, boys."

"Guess we'll have to find some other entertainment, then," Tristan said slowly.

"Well," Felix said, tossing a leaf into the fire; it burst into flame and disintegrated, the glowing fragments wafting up into the darkening sky. "There ain't a shit-ton to do out here at night, unless you wanna go hunt for kindling and maybe break an ankle in the dark. Got any ideas?"

Kieran saw his father look directly at him, and his heart jumped. He had the same look in his eye as he'd had when he'd invented the race back at the house. Oh yes...oh yes...

"We could tell stories?" the horse suggested. He pulled one leg up, hoof flat on the ground, and curled his arm around it.

"Stories?" Chet queried. "Like fairy tales? Oh -- you mean like horror stories?" He looked into the darkness that extended indefinitely beyond their little circle of firelight. "That could be fun."

"Maybe, yeah. I was thinking of something else, though."

Kieran's heart was beating faster. "What sort of thing, Dad?" he asked, trying to sound calm.

His father looked at him, the firelight shimmering deep in his eyes, like tiny flames. "Well. Kit told his story. I could tell mine."

"Huh? About what?" Axel asked.

"About the best sex I ever had."

The crunch of a log collapsing in the fire sent a spray of sparks up into the sky, like lost stars flying back home. None of the equines said anything, until Felix spoke.

"Let's hear it then, Firehose," he said, in the same quiet voice he'd used the night before on Kieran. "What naughty things did you get up to?"

"Yeah," Axel agreed breathily. His eyes were wide. "What'd you do to that lucky mare, Uncle Tristan?

"Wasn't a mare at all, kiddo," the horse said confidently. "He was a stallion, and he was even prettier than you."

Kieran was impressed to see that nobody so much as batted an eye at that revelation, except for Axel, who frowned and grumbled. "Nobody's prettier than me..."

Felix chuckled. "Scared of a bit of competition, boy? Hehe." He dodged a pebble thrown his way and turned back to his friend. "Well then, Tristan. Let's get all the filthy details."

Kieran stared at his father as the stallion collected himself, wondering what his father was planning that could beat making everyone strip naked. Tristan finally spoke, with a calm, deep voice. "I'd known the guy for a while. He helped me out on the farm. Honestly, I'd been checking him out for a good few months by then. He'd turned eighteen that year, and he looked...amazing." The horse paused, lost in memory. "Before that, he was...well, like a son to me."

No, he was a son to you, Dad, Kieran thought. His sheath was stirring with excitement. Oh, Daddy, I think I know where this is going...

"He'd always been this great, hardworking guy that I could rely on. But that year, he changed. I mean...his body changed. Took a while to get the message about puberty, maybe, but he just suddenly looked fucking incredible. You know what farm work does to a guy, right? That, but...so perfect. Strong. Long, handsome mane that he kept flicking over his shoulder when he laughed. A fucking fine ass. Eyes made to drown in. Just beautiful." His eyes flicked to Kieran, then away. "I'd tried not paying too much attention to him, because it felt weird. He was so much younger, and he was...like family. Always around, helping me out. Making my life easier." The horse coughed. "So, one day, he was there as usual, helping me out."

Not just any day, Daddy. It was a Kit Day. You woke me up with a kiss on the forehead that morning, same as always, and asked me what I wanted to do. Did you wonder at my odd expression? You didn't know what I'd been dreaming about. It was you, stud. I dreamed you were on top of me, your tongue in my mouth and your hand down my pants...and I woke up to a real kiss, and a real erection. That's when I knew I had to have you. All those months of feeling guilty and scared about the feelings simply evaporated. You were the man for me. So, I told you I wanted to do farm work. Hot, hard, sweaty farm work. I knew exactly where that could lead if I played my cards right.

"So, one winter, he's there, and we're moving hay out of the barn for the riding horses. I'd push 'em down from the loft, and he'd carry them outside and load them on the truck. Heavy fucking bales, right, so I'd ended up kinda sweaty -- and him, too. So, when it's done and I get back outside, I can smell him. The air's still and cold, and then there's just this streak of hot, sweaty stallion cutting right across it like a brand. Fresh as it gets, and maybe the cold made my nose extra-sensitive or something, but...I never smelled a guy like that before." The arm wrapped around his leg shifted up, then back down.

"I'd always liked how guys smelled, but this was different. I think it...I think because we spent so much time together, I'd slowly gotten used to his smell. Maybe. And my brain knew he was eighteen now, and maybe that lowered some barriers I had. I really dunno. I just know I stood on that frozen, snowy ground, looking at this guy, my nostrils pulling in his scent, and he looks at me with this quirky look and says nothing, but suddenly he's pulling his jacket off. On a fucking snow day!"

I smelled you too, Dad, in that fresh air. A sire's smell. Powerful and dominant and wonderful. Just like in my dream. Fuck, even when you're in my head, you smell amazing, stud.

"So," Tristan continued, "I tell him he's nuts, and to put it back on, but he simply laughed and said he preferred it off. And..." The stallion gulped. "And if I was really that concerned, I could always just give him some of my own heat." The horse shook his head in disbelief. "Shit, I'll tell you...my dick liked hearing that. I felt really fucking ashamed, too...for about five seconds. Reminded myself that he was just a colt, saying stuff to make me laugh, and it wasn't like I was gonna do anything, right? Perfectly normal feelings for a handsome young stallion stud. So." A shrug, and a cough. "We head off with the feed, and unload it at the horses, and he's pulling the bales off the back with a hay hook, and his exposed arms are steaming in the cold -- and his breath too -- and he looked like..." He stopped speaking, holding one hand in the air and looking off to the side. "Fuck. Who's that one god? With the fire?"

"Hephaestus?" Axel suggested.

"Yeah. Looked like him, sweating before the forge of industry. So impressive. So handsome. And I stare a bit too long, and he sees me, obviously. And he sticks the hay hook into a bale, and strikes this stupid pose, with one arm like a handle and the other like a teacup, and I mean...I gotta laugh. It's so dumb, but he's so hot, he makes it look good...he's got it all, this young stud, and maybe he knows it, maybe he doesn't, but he's acting the goof for me, to make me laugh, and I love him for it."

I did it to hear you laugh, beautiful thing. Rich peals of it that rolled through the air and fed my soul. Your laugh made me happier than anything I ever knew -- until I got the rest of you.

"So, he comes to the edge of the truck, and instead of just jumping off, he holds out his arms, and he says 'Catch me!' So...uh, so, I do. Didn't really think about it. Just held out my arms and let him jump down into `em. Caught him like he's only a kid, this big muscled guy, and lowered him to the ground, and he smiles, and taps my chest, and says, 'Thanks, big guy'. And...I mean, I don't know for sure, but I think maybe I was a little chub, and maybe he felt it a bit as he slid down my body, 'cos..." Tristan's eyes seemed a thousand miles away, staring up into the night sky. "As I'm doing up the tailgate, he walks behind me and brushes up against me. Barely a touch. Just enough so I can feel what he's packing. And how it's...not soft. Not at all. He immediately says 'Oh, sorry, D--sorry, Tristan', like it was just an accident, and walks off, but...shit. I knew. Or thought I did. I hoped. I hoped so much my fucking heart almost blew a valve."

I was so scared to do that, Dad. I don't know if I ever told you. But I had to know. I did feel your dick when you caught me, and, fuck...I liked it. All those times I'd looked at you and seen a sexy breeding stud instead of just a father. I dared to imagine you felt the same.

"I didn't know what to do. Our relationship was so close, so important to me; I was terrified of damaging it. I cared about him so much. But that was also exactly it: I cared about him so much...that I wanted the same from him. I wanted to give him...everything. Me. Us. The world. Stupid crazy romantic shit, you know. So we get back in the truck, and drive back to the barn, and we're not saying anything to one another, but my mind won't shut up, it's thinking what to do, how to get my hands on this, uh, this guy I shouldn't even be looking at, and wondering if that really had been an accident back there, and a million other things. Just circling around and around in my own head, and all the while he's right there next to me, and I can still smell him, and I start wondering how big he is down there, how he looks naked, if he...if he likes anal, or what he's into, and..." Tristan barked a laugh.

"And I get hard. Fucking hard. Big surprise, right? Like, satellites-can-see-it hard. But I'm too distracted, I don't notice it. But he does. And like it's nothing, out of the blue, he says 'Better watch out where you stick that thing'. So casual and self-assured, so fucking smooth. Really turned me on. Well, more, I mean. And some fuckin'...some piece of genius in me just hijacks my mouth, and makes me say...heh." The stallion stared down at the ground as if embarrassed. "Makes me say 'Well, do you know a safe place?' And he says nothing, and I thought, that's it, I've fucked it, he's gonna call me a fucking perv now or something. But...he stretches out a hand and rests it on my leg. Right at the top, right here. And his fingers are scratching at my sheath, and it's like they're attached to batteries, 'cos it feels like electricity shoots up my body. I can't fucking believe he feels the same way, and my brain is losing its shit..."

I couldn't believe it either, Dad. I wasn't confident, I was petrified. I thought if I sounded cool and collected, it would be easier to say it was just a joke if it all went wrong. Haha, made you uncomfortable, let's never speak of this again, sort of thing. And even after you spoke back, it took everything I had to put my hand on you. But I felt you shudder under my touch...and I knew. And the fear was gone, and I simply wanted you.

"I pulled up outside the barn, and we climbed out of the truck -- I practically fell on my face I was so excited -- and he walked around and pressed up against me, and we kissed." The stallion paused. "Just like that. No words, only action. And it was perfect. It felt so right...nothing else I've ever done has felt as right as that one kiss. And he took my hand, and pulled me forward, and we went into the barn. We closed the doors, to keep the wind out. Made a little bed at the back, in the hay. Lay next to each other, only kissing, for ages. And then he undressed me, and said such wonderful things about how I looked, and felt, and smelled...and tasted. When his mouth took my dick -- shit, I almost came right there. Knowing who he was, and what he was doing, made me hard as a fucking horn. He moaned so beautifully...told him once I wanna bottle his moans. And when my dick was sopping wet, he undressed, standing next to me, letting me see every inch of his fucking gorgeous body. And he took my dick, and pressed it into himself, and slid down onto me...I couldn't fucking take it. He wasn't even halfway down and I blew. Fattest load of my life, right up into that colt stud's passage." The horse made an explosion action with his hands. "Booooom. Felt so ashamed, but he laughed, and said it was a compliment, and told me how good it felt when I came in him, and made me promise to do it again. Lots of times."

Before that, though, you asked me something. Because I think you were scared, worried that you'd made a horrible mistake. You asked me, `Kieran, do you want this?' Couldn't remember the last time you used my real name. And of course I fucking did, and I told you so. And after that, you were a horse of your word, Daddy. We did it again, so many times. Half an hour later, for a start. And four times the next day. You said I made you so horny, you'd never stop cumming. I told you I never wanted you to. It was good that we'd just fed the horses, because we barely left the house the rest of that week.

"And then we lay there, and he rested his head on my chest, and sighed when I breathed in and out. And...yeah." He shrugged. "That was the best fucking sex I ever had. The day I jizzed up a colt's tight ass fifteen seconds in. Because it wasn't about the sex. It was about him." His father looked over at Kieran, staring directly at him as he said the last few words. "He became my world, that day, even more than he already was. And I'll never be able to repay that gift."

They were all silent after the story ended. Another log collapsed in the fire, and Kieran fought to hold back his tears. I fucking love you too, Dad. He simply wanted to hold his father now. Not fuck, or kiss...just hold, tightly and eternally, to let him know he felt exactly the same way.

Felix broke the silence, and he even sounded a little emotional. "Well...shit, Tristan." His eyes glistened a little more than usual. "You really fucking love this guy, huh?"

"I do." Tristan's voice was tight, and he took a shuddering breath. "I really do. But I...can't be with him right now. He knows it, and I think he understands, but...the wait is killing me. He's my fucking world." He reached up to wipe away a tear, but not quickly enough; it dropped to his shirt, soaking into the denim, leaving a dark spot. "He's done more for this farm than anyone. Fucking anyone. Even me. He's so smart. So much smarter than me. And he's so handsome, and beautiful...and he's so ready to do what it takes to achieve his goals. It makes me want to fucking die from pride. And when I'm with him...I..." His voice broke completely, and Kieran felt his own tears start. "I'm a better horse," his father said, choking up around the words. "And he's been away for ages, and I missed him so much...and I just wanna tell him how much I love him, and hold him again, and feel his beautiful body against me..."

Axel gave a sniff, rubbing at his eyes, and Chet cleared his throat, turning to look at his father. "Dad," he said levelly, his voice a little rough. "C'mon. Look at him. Look at them! Just...let Uncle Tristan have it."

Felix was silent for a moment, and then threw his hands up and sighed. "Okay, yeah. Shit, bud," he said, addressing Tristan. The stallion's eyes had grown wide. "I didn't know how he was before I got here. You're fucking lucky, and I dunno if I'd have lasted this long. Fuck it." He waved a hand at Kieran. "Go on, then. You win."

Tristan gave a choked cry of happiness, clambering to his feet and near-galloping around the fire towards his son. Kieran had a moment to be utterly confused -- and then his father's arms swept him up off the ground, and wrapped around him, and his father's lips pressed against his -- hard, warm, and needy -- and his own mouth opened automatically, and the amazing, wet, familiar taste of his father flowed into him, and the stallion stopped caring about anything or anyone else in the whole entire world.

His father was holding him, was with him, and loved him.

The kiss felt primal, urgent; as if it was necessary for his father's life to continue. Tristan's tongue dug deep into Kieran's mouth, and the younger stallion matched it, length for length. But the kiss was merely what occupied the tall stallion's mouth: his hands were busy sliding all around his son's body as if trying to touch every part of him at once. One slid into his pants and started fondling his balls, while the other did the same behind, alternately gripping Kieran's firm buttocks and fingering at his hole. The stallion's mouth finally broke the kiss when that happened, crying out into the night at the long-awaited feeling of his father stroking his needy doughnut.

"I'm sorry, son, I'm sorry I waited so long, I shouldn't have..." Tristan's whispered words barely had time to register with Kieran before his dad dropped to his knees, his hands worked feverishly at the young stallion's belt. Kieran looked up in fear at their guests, but they were unbothered -- well beyond unbothered, in fact. Chet was rubbing his crotch as he watched the two horses, and Axel had one an arm around his father's back, and another underneath his shirt. What was this? They...knew? But then why had his father not...

A hot, squirming warmth enveloped his hard dick, and he stopped thinking.

"Fuuuuck!" he screamed, his leg muscles twitching excitedly from the long-sought feeling of being deep-throated by his father. He braced his hands on the sides of the log he was sitting on, and instinctively lifted his legs to wrap them around his father's back, his spurs clinking together when his hooves met. He threw his head back, eyes shut, filling the night air with guttural moans and cries of pleasure. His legs tightened, pulling his father in closer as his long-delayed lust exploded inside him, demanding release after days -- no, fuck the days, the years! -- of denied paternal desire. He let go of the log, grabbing his father's head and pushing it madly up and down, fucking his father's face with mad, relieved ecstasy, his legs the only thing keeping him from toppling backwards off the long-dead tree.

He might have thought it a dream, but for the sounds. His father had become very good at taking almost all of his son's dick in the months they'd had together before he left, and he knew to breathe through his nose. But an old injury had left him with a deviated septum that made the breath hiss in and out with a characteristic snort: a deep, horny sound that Kieran had come to associate with fucking. Dad only had to come up near to him and make that sound, and Kieran's cock would be half-dropped.

It was far more than half-dropped now, though, and as his flare slid back and forth along the upper part of his father's throat, that sound told him how much his father was enjoying this, even if his words couldn't. Every time he pushed Dad's head down, the big stallion rumbled in his chest, and when he arose -- grabbing a quick breath with a horny snort -- Kieran felt him flex his throat around his son's cock. He knew his boy liked that a lot. This wouldn't be a very long blowjob.

Hands slid under his balls, and Kieran's body tensed up again with the agony of pleasure as his father massaged his overly heavy, pent-up hangers, soaked and slippery with the spit and pre-cum mixture that ran down the sides of his dick every time his father's head rose from it. Dad was so warm, and sounded so fucking hot. Kieran wanted to fuck this throat forever, here, under the stars of their ranch, where they both belonged.

"I'm gonna cum, Dad," he whimpered, and his father's hands switched to his son's thighs, pulling his legs tighter around him and pushing his head as far down as he could manage. Getting every inch of the young stallion's cock down his throat. Kieran felt lips brushing against his sheath, and groaned. "Fuck, Dad, yes...fuck, you're so good at this...you feel amazing...you're gonna take all my cum, Daddy, three years I've been waiting...it's all for you, all for you..."

His father sounded like he was screaming at him to do it, but all that came out was "Mmmf! Mmmf ffmf!" Kieran's leg's tightened further as he felt his balls hurtling upward, and he dug his fingers deep into his father's mane. His vision was blurring, and the final release was growing in him like a plume of magma below a volcano, rising faster and faster the closer it got to the surface. Boiling, massive and ready to explode...

"Aaahhh...aaaahhhHHHH...DA...DAAAAAAD...!"

Kieran didn't think he'd ever cum that hard in his life. It had the intensity of the ruined orgasm he'd experience in the hay loft, but multiplied tenfold by the act of actual physical release with it. His nuts were in agony, as if hands had coiled about them and squeezed as hard as possible, but the pain felt wonderful -- or perhaps the pleasure simply overwhelmed it, mixing in and changing it into a climax he'd both fear and adore for the rest of his life. Each blast from his dick razed his nerves with pleasure like wildfire. The feelings were impossibly intense, and pure as life. It was as if time itself slowed down, letting him appreciate every individual aspect of this perfect moment.

The renewed pressure of his father's throat on his dick, as his flare ballooned and stretched it wider. The feeling of hot, watery cum running down his shaft and into his sheath, as his father completely failed to swallow all of his long-delayed load. The rapid pulsing of his prostate, like tiny pleasure-bombs going off inside him, as the little organ squeezed out every drop it could. The way his father gripped his shirt, pulling them closer together, and the deep, happy noises he made as his son pumped shot after shot of rich horse cum deep into his throat...

When he opened his eyes, the sky seemed doubly full of stars, as the ones in his vision danced in between the ones that haunted the spaces far beyond. His balls itched; thicker cum was oozing down them now, and his father's mouth was making slurping sounds as he cleaned up every drop of filial semen that he could find. Kieran groaned and relaxed, letting his legs slip off his father and thud into the earth on either side of him. A hand lifted Kieran's balls, and a hot, eager tongue lapped them clean, making the stallion shiver with pleasure. The young stallion reached for his cock, taking some of his cum onto his fingers and holding it out: his father's lips took them in and licked them clean, and Kieran chuckled. "Guess you found space for one more drink after all, huh, Dad?" he murmured. The bright eyes of his father looked up at him under his brow, and he grinned. How easily they fell back into their old patterns. As if they'd never left them. And how much more pleasurable to return to them without the constant, distracting ache of his clogged balls.

His father shuffled back, and Kieran slipped from the log and onto the ground with a groan. "Fuuuuuuuuck, Dad..." was all he said, and his father's gentle stroking of his face said he understood. "Why'd you make me wait so long, you bastard...?" He suddenly remembered they were not alone, and his words trailed off as his head lifted.

Three pairs of eager fire-lit eyes stared back at him.

Felix got up first, walking forward with a massive bulge clearly visible under his pants. "Sorry, bud," he said huskily. "That was the deal." He looked down at Tristan. "It was meant to be three days, but Chet's right...your dad deserved it." The horse looked back up at him, and smiled, and gave a little nod. The zebra looked back at Kieran, looking unashamedly at his cock and licking his lips. "What a way to say welcome home, huh?"

"You knew about us?" Kieran looked between the zebra and his father -- and then blinked as a smirking Axel appeared beside his father, sliding an arm around the zebra's back.

"We all did, handsome," the zebra said. One of Axel's hands slid down to fondle his father's bulge, and the older stallion rumbled and looked down at his son with lustful eyes. "It tends to come up around this time. A few careful questions, a few hints dropped, and you find out if someone's just keeping the ranch in the family, or..." The attractive zorse flicked his mane out of his eyes and tittered as his father winked and said, "in the family. If you know what I mean."

"He means sex!" Axel said. The zorse looked extremely excited. "Lovely, lovely daddy sex..." He stared up at his father in adoration.

"It's the cowboy way, Kit," his father said softly, and Kieran looked over at him. He was sitting on his haunches, his cock sticking out before him, hard and dark and dreamy. Pre-cum made a long, unbroken line from the tip to the ground. "Sons taking after fathers. Doing what they did. Sometimes they also...take after them in more ways than one. If they're lucky enough." He smiled and rested a hand on Kieran's leg. "Like me. I would have done this years ago, son...but you were being so strong. You gave us so much for me." His eye quivered as a tear formed. "For us! I didn't want to...to distract you." The hand squeezed. "But I knew about Felix and his boys, so I asked them to come and help me give you a...a really good welcome home. But then Felix made me a bet -- and I took it." A breeze picked up sparks from the fire and carried them high. The edges of his father's mane glowed red in the firelight. "I don't even know why. I must have been drunk, or insane. No touching you for three days. Not even a kiss. And they"--he tipped his head in the direction of their guests--"got to tease you all they wanted."

Kieran didn't know what to think of that. "And...the prize?"

Felix stepped forward just as Tristan turned to look up at him. "Felix," his father said with a feral grin, "has something of a reputation..."

"What he means is," Chet said, coming up on the zebra's other side, "is that Daddy dearest is a big old top." He pulled his father's ear towards himself and nibbled on it. "Usually. But the deal was...if Uncle Tristan won..." He nosed along his father's chest, and then began unbuttoning his shirt. His voice grew softer. "This handsome stud would be your plaything for the whole trip. Every day, and every night. Pure, horny, zebra muscle-slut. On demand."

"A big old top, you say?" Tristan asked, a massive smirk sliding up the side of his face. "That what he told you, huh?" He stared up at the zebra, who was suddenly looking everywhere else.

Axel's hand started to undo his father's belt as Chet worked at his shirt. The strip of leather came loose, and Axel drew it out from the belt loops with a flourish. "Look out, Daddy!" he cried. "Your pants might fall down now." He tugged at the jeans to make sure, and they slipped to the horse's feet. "Oh nooooo..." the zorse murmured. "Now everyone will see your pretty penis, Daddy." He tucked one finger into the zebra's underwear and pulled them outward slowly until a long, black length of zebra dick spilled out and hung heavily from his crotch. "Whoops." He went to give his brother a hand with the shirt, and that fell open soon after. Chet pulled it off his father's arms and tossed it to the side, and Felix stood naked before them. He'd not said a word since it started, but his eyes had flickered between his sons, full of horniness. His dick hardened by the second, growing to impressive girth -- and with a flare like the end of a plunger.

Kieran climbed to his feet, looking the zebra up and down. Felix stood proud and unashamed -- and what could he have to be ashamed of? He was a stunning, mature male, a flawless breeding stallion. The young horse turned and pulled his father to his feet, pulling his muzzle in for a kiss. "Fuck, Dad," he said when his lips broke free, "you know how fucking horny I've been? I thought I was going to fucking die. And every time I tried to cum, to these bitches..." He pointed at Felix and his sons. "I mean..."

He held out a hand, ticking fingers off as he spoke. "Axel did a fucking striptease in the shower! And he was going on about how he doesn't mind when guys look at him when he cleans!"

"Well, I don't," the zorse pouted. "I just...want them to follow it up with a dick in my ass after." He stuck his tongue out cheekily.

Kieran looked at Chet next. "He fondled himself in the car..." Chet grinned and did it again. "And he *smashed his dick into my face after the race." He huffed. "I wanted to feel yours,* Dad!"

"Sorry, son," his father said, hiding a smile behind his hand. "Uh...Chet was only trying to protect the bet. I think. Probably."

"Sure, let's go with that," Chet drawled. The zonkey struck a pose. "Chet to the rescue -- oh yeah!" He winked. "Come on, though, Kieran...you can't say you didn't like my chub."

"I liked it more watching it in Axel," the young stallion shot back, and the zorse blushed as Felix slowly turned to look at his zorse son, one eyebrow raised.

"Were you boys naughty?" the zebra asked.

"Psh, naughty." Axel rubbed a hoof along the ground. "No. We just, uh, followed Kieran when he went to jerk off. And...gave him a little show. To help." He pointed an accusatory finger at his brother. "Chet made me do it! He lured me with his sexy donkey wiles! I'm an innocent buttslut!"

"Fucking please, bitch," the zonkey snorted. "You were halfway into my pants the moment we were alone. And anyway, I'm sure Kieran enjoyed it." He looked at the stallion. "Did you cum hard, stud?"

"No! I barely came at all!" Kieran said, and Chet's eyes blinked in surprise. "I was so scared of getting caught by you assholes," the horse explained, "that my head got all fucked up and I couldn't finish. Had some broken half-orgasm and couldn't get hard the rest of the day."

"...oops?" Chet said, and shrugged.

"Oh, no, it's fine, actually," Kieran said, flashing the zonkey a smile. "I got my revenge. A big drop of me landed in your mouth as you came. Did I taste nice, Chet?" He licked a finger noisily. "Yummm."

"Oh..." The zonkey put a finger to his mouth thoughtfully. "Well, well...horses are delicious." He gave Kieran a smouldering look. "I'll want another taste of that tonight for sure, handsome."

"If you earn it." Kieran turned back to Felix. "And then, the final insult. I had to endure Uncle Bigdick Fucktoy here"--he slapped the zebra's flare, making his cock swing back and forth--"rubbing one out against me in bed last night while he told me about the first guy he fucked. Not to mention the endless fucking..." He shook his head, pausing for breath.

"He does have a big dick..." Axel said, stroking his father's cock and nickering.

"Endless fucking sounds fun," Chet grinned.

"No! The endless fucking cockblocking! Shit." This wasn't true anger; the relief of finally getting off with his father had elevated his mood far too much for the horse to actually be angry. But it still felt good to be calling the others out for their parts in the plan that had caused him so much grief. "I had so many ideas to get Dad in bed," he said. "And every time -- every time! -- Fucktoy here would stymie them. I was so fucking frustrated. I was ready to murder him." He shook his head again, and Felix gave a low laugh.

"I'm so sorry, Kieran," he said, his words only somewhat undermined by his massive grin. "I could see how desperate you were. I just couldn't resist. I really thought you'd still find a way. Honestly. But -- how good it was when it happened, huh?"

"Fucktoy...ohhhh, I like that..." Axel murmured, but Tristan interrupted him.

"You know," he said, "when I agreed to this bet, I didn't realise that meant you'd all be spending every spare minute trying to get into my son's pants before me!" His son slid in next to him, running a hand over his father's chest and smirking at the others. Kieran felt as if a weight had been lifted -- well, a couple hundred grams had, at least -- and he adored how possessive his father was being. The sight of the zebra's nakedness, laid out for all of them to see, was also firing his engines back up. As much of a cocktease as Felix had been, he was still fucking hot.

"Yeah!" the young stallion yelled. "You know the rules! Dads get first dibs!"

"That another farm tradition out here?" Chet asked with a smile.

"It fucking is now," Tristan growled, and the zonkey licked his lips.

"We'll have to teach them all a lesson, Dad," Kieran said, looking around at their three guests. "Show `em how ranchers do things out east." Chet crossed his arms, and Axel leaned down to kiss the top of his father's cock shaft. Kieran pointed at the two brothers. "You two are exactly as complicit as Fucktoy there, so you'll share in his punishment."

"Oh, yes, Daddy Horse, punish me," Axel said with a giggle. All the overt testosterone bubbling up around him was making the zorse become subbier by the second. He pulled up his shirt, showing off his firm abs. "I'm all pretty for my daddies..." Then he turned and lifted his tail, making the butt-plug in his tailhole flex. "And already full of Chet, so Daddy can go in dry..."

Kieran looked at him, and at his brother -- smirking confidently to one side -- and their father, standing naked and proud, his long cock hanging free. Then he looked up at his own father.

"Get them stripped, Dad. I'm going to get my rope." He pulled his father back just as he started to move away. "And don't think I've forgotten about you, stud." He gave his father a deep kiss. "You got me first...and you'll get me last, too." Bookending the fucking with his father's touch.

By the time Kieran had walked over to his mount, grabbed the rope, and returned, most of the clothes had gone. Felix was still entirely naked -- apart from his Stetson -- but the brothers had opted to keep a few extras on. Chet still had leather chaps on, but with the entire front section removed, thanks to some previously hidden velcro. They were almost identical to the ones Tristan had worn in his video, and earned him a long, horny look from Kieran. He was masturbating himself, and took great pride in showing off the thickness of his cock to the stallion.

Axel had kept only his jockstrap on, and he rubbed a hand up and down the rear of it, playing with his plug. His other hand continued to play with his father's cock, and his eyes flicked up to look at his face regularly with pixie-like amusement. Kieran got the impression that Axel was rarely in control of the big, horny zebra when at home.

Kieran's father had the sexy leather jerkin on; the one from his video. Open at the front and cut deep under the arms. He flexed when his son returned, showing off his arms, and then slapping his chest. Impossibly beautiful. The young stallion just about fell to his knees and demanded his father fuck his throat there and then, but instead, he walked up to face him, kissing him and squeezing the head of his cock. "Beautiful stud," he murmured.

"Handsome boy," Tristan nickered back. "Get naked for me."

Kieran dropped the rope on the ground and stripped. Like Felix, he kept his Stetson on -- but also his spurs. "Cowboy enough for you, Dad?" he asked, clinking one spur against the ground, and his father snorted.

"Fucking always, son," he said.

Kieran picked the rope back up and turned his back to his father, rubbing his ass back and forth along his father's cock as he addressed their guests. "Alright, you horny dicks," he called. He snapped the rope taut between his hands. "Fucktoy goes first."

Felix's arms were tied behind him, and the rope threaded around his body as needed to limit his movement. Arms were bound to his sides, and He grunted as the final knot was tied, his hard cock making it clear he did not mind the treatment at all. His eyes tracked Kieran as he worked, and when he was done, the horse stood before him, arms crossed.

"Nothing to say, Felix the Fucktoy?" he asked. The zebra smiled.

"What's there to say? I've been a very bad zebra, Cowboy. Teach me a lesson." He looked down at the stallion's cock. "What a big stallion you've turned into, hm?" he murmured. His cock continued to leak.

"A tease for a tease," the horse said. He walked around to Felix's rear, lifting his tail and spitting onto a couple of fingers that he rubbed against the zebra's now-exposed hole. "And only a little punishment. For being a sneaky, horny bastard."

"You gonna give me a dicking, Kit?" the zebra asked, turning his head as far as he could. "It's been a good long while...take it easy."

"Lemme think about it." Kieran positioned his dick at the zebra's hole. "Nah."

Felix grunted as the horse pressed forward. "Ah...fuck...ahhhh, shit, ah, ah...ahhhh...yessss..."

"Axel," the horse said as his cockhead was swallowed by zebra hole, "Daddy Fucktoy's making a lot of noise. Can you do something about that?" Axel had stepped aside while his father was being bound, and now he walked up to his father with a smile and slipped some fingers into his mouth.

"Shush now, Fucktoy," he murmured, his other hand rubbing his penis against his father's belly. "You've got something in your mouth, and in your ass. Isn't that lovely? Enjoy it like a good little zebra slut, Daddy." Felix snorted, but the wet, lascivious noise of sucking followed, and Axel sighed with pleasure. "Yes...good boy, Daddy Fucktoy..." Chet came closer too, grabbing one of his father's nipples and giving it a hard turn, making the zebra whinny with pain -- and then rumble with pleasure. And as his sons teased and abused his front, Kieran fucked his rear.

The young stallion's simplistic lubrication had only gotten him a couple of inches deep. He was thrusting harder now, lubing up the rest of the equine's insides with his pre-cum, hands gripping his sides, hips pushing forward relentlessly. Each thrust made Felix rock forward a little on his hooves, and give a little moan of pleasure. Top or not, he was definitely enjoying the feeling of the colt's cock sinking ever deeper into him. Kieran's face looked down at the point where his ass met the zebra cock, loving the sight of himself disappearing into the other male...but when his father came alongside him, he looked at him instead.

Dad's fantastic body was glowing in the light of the fire and the pale moon above. Muscles were heightened by the chiaroscuro, and his hand gripped his cock and stroked it with long, sexy, leisurely strokes. He looked at his son's face for a few moments, smiling, and then looked down at his dick going in and out of Felix. He slipped a hand around his son's shoulder and nuzzled into his mane.

"Is he still tight, son?" he asked. His breath was warm on Kieran's ear, and his voice was so soft, it was almost drowned out by the zebra's nickers and brays.

"Yeah...fuck, Dad...he's really tight..." Kieran turned to kiss his father. "But...I bet you'll be tighter." Tristan chuckled deeply, the hand around Kieran's shoulder dropping to slide under his son's tail instead. The tip of a finger pushed against the hole, and Kieran gasped.

"He was tight yesterday as well, when we went out for food," his father murmured. His fingertip circled inside his son's ring. "I needed you so badly, Kit...but I didn't want to ruin the bet. So, on the way home, I made this striped fucker pull over, and I dragged him behind some trees, and I fucked the cum right out of him." A horse tongue licked along Kieran's ear. "Practising for you."

"I thought you...looked kinda relaxed when you got back," the younger horse said, his breathing getting heavier as he worked more of his dick into the zebra. If his father hadn't sucked out his most pressing load a short while earlier, the horse would have nutted ages ago inside the wonderfully warm, soft clutches of the zebra's asshole. "But who's to say...I won't fuck you first, Firehose?"

Tristan's finger pushed in deeper as his son called him by his old nickname. Dad liked that, then. "Age before beauty, sexy thing," his father whispered. "I've got three long, long years of seed that's been boiling around waiting for you to get home. You want it all. Trust me."

Kieran had only one response to that offer, and it fell from his lips with an explosive breath. "I do, Dad...oh, fuck, I do...can I have it now, Daddy? You're so hot, Dad...you fucking turn me on just standing there...I wanna take that gorgeous fucking dick so deep inside and make it blow, Daddy..."

"Lots of time still, Kit," Tristan said. "All the time in the world." He kissed his son's neck and down to his clavicle, working his hole harder with his finger. Kieran moaned, and the pace of his fuck sped up as his arousal began to build to its height again. "Teach this naughty little fuck a lesson first. Teach them all. I'll help. We'll show them what horse cocks can do...and then I'll remind you what mine can do."

Tristan suddenly pulled his finger out of his son, making the young stallion nicker, and walked around to his friend's front. He was still muttering and grunting at each new tweak and torture his sons were visiting on him, but his whole body jerked upright when Tristan grabbed his dick. "Well, now," he said pleasantly, his hand sliding up and down the zebra's cock, sending a shudder through him that even Kieran could feel. "This reminds me of that time you lured me into the changing rooms so you could rub your dick all over me, Felix."

Felix chuckled, nodding slightly, then looked up at his friend. "That was a good fucking day. Told your boy about it last night, while I did the same thing to him. Kinda made it sound like it was your idea, though. I don't think Kit gave a shit, but I understand. He was probably trying really hard to imagine it was you doing it to hiIIIMMMM...!" His voice became a squeal as Tristan did something to his free nipple, and Chet tsked at his father.

"No getting cocky, Daddy. This is meant to be a punishment." It was a damn poor punishment, all told, Kieran mused. The zebra was moaning so loudly now, they had to raise their voices to be heard over him.

"Yeah, Fucktoy!" Axel chirped. He seemed to find the nickname fantastically amusing. "Focus on tightening up those buns. Give Kieran a nice ride. I wanna see him pulling out with a nice, long, cum-covered horse cock and a big sploosh of delicious splooge. Hehe. That rhymed. Sploosh...splooge...mm..." His words seemed to be exciting him more by the second. "They say horses taste like grass and fruit..."

"Horses taste like sex," Tristan said, his deeper voice cutting across the zorse's preppy one. Axel's eyes flashed to the big stallion, and he blushed.

"Maybe I could...try some later. Sir."

Tristan stared wordlessly at the zorse, and then snorted. "Maybe you can, you little slut." Axel gave a gasp at that, and his dick jumped. One hand slid up his chest to fondle his pecs, and the other combed through his name as he smiled and blinked rapidly. "You can lick your father's doughnut after my son's done with it, how about that?" Tristan offered, eyes sliding up and down the attractive zorse.

"Yes, sir," he replied meekly. "Thank you, sir."

Chet watched their interaction with a half-open mouth. "Fuck, Axel, what's gotten into you? You never call me `sir'..."

"Normal reaction to seeing a proper horse stud," Tristan said casually, looking at the zonkey. Chet looked back, and a smile crept up the side of his face.

"Uncle Tristan..." he said in wonder. "Where have you been hiding this side of you?"

"I'll hide it in that fine fucking donkey ass later, how about that," came the non sequitur, followed by the slap of a hand on an ass. Chet yelped, and Felix laughed.

"I only had to lure Uncle Tristan once, boys," he said with infinite amusement, the words occasionally interrupted by a grunt or a fuck, yeah. "Every time after that, he's the one that dragged me to the lockers. By the time we'd graduated, Firehose had sprayed down every inch of tiling in that whole fucking room." His head turned and he looked at Kieran. "And I'm gonna find out if his son can do the same."

Kieran slid a hand up Felix's side and into his armpit, and then pulled it out and gave it an exaggerated sniff. "Smells like slut," he growled. His head was spinning with excitement and pleasure and lust. He could practically smell the testosterone in the air, as all the stallions postured and flirted and touched one another. The sight of his father acting dominant was the greatest aphrodisiac he knew; having his cock being embedded inside Felix at the same time was pure over-stimulation. He gave a final hard push, and his crotch pressed flush against the zebra's rear. He slapped one muscled, cream-coloured ass-cheek. "I always do what Dad says, Uncle Fucktoy," he said, "and Dad says to show you what horsecock can do."

He pulled his entire length out, having to take half a step back to do it, and then thrust it all back inside with a long, wet schlorp that made both of them cry out. "Oh, shit!" Kieran gasped. Felix's ass felt like it was pulling him in when he did that. "You're...a fucking hot fuck..."

"I know I am," the zebra huffed, "but what about you, you little fuck? Am I gonna have to wait long for that little pony dick to tickle me to orgasm?"

Kieran whinnied and did it again, long, hard, inches of stallion prick driving in and out of his mate. "Does that...feel little?" he panted. He repeated the motion, loving the sounds the zebra made. He could act tough all he wanted, but the sensations of sixteen inches of dick fucking him were making him as slutty as Axel. He pushed back when Kieran hilted, and squeezed around him when he pulled out. The horse gripped his sides hard, fingers digging into his muscle, and fucked him for all he was worth. When he looked around the zebra's side, he could see Tristan jerking the zebra off with one hand, and playing with Axel's plug with the other as the zorse made soft, helpless noises. Chet was latched onto one of his father's nipples, practically chewing on it and rubbing his hands all over his father's body. The zebra must be completely overwhelmed with sensations -- and yet he held out. The minutes stretched on, and he didn't cum. It was rather impressive, Kieran thought, in between rough, animalistic slams of his dick. He tried twisting his hips and adjusting his height to hit every spot inside Felix. There was always a spot, at least one, that a guy couldn't resist. Find that, and hit it over and over and over again, and they'd be yours...

He felt the zebra clench more than before when he thrust in a certain way, and he grinned. He moved one hand to the zebra's shoulder for additional leverage and began to jackhammer into his ass at precisely that angle. He could feel the zebra's muscles melting under his hands before he heard the sounds. "Ohfuck...oh, oh, oh, ohhhhhh, oh fuck, Kieran, what...oh, oh, d...don't stop...oh, harder, harder, yes, Kieran..." Begging, interspersed with distraught gasps. He was losing control.

"Dad...he's..." he started to say, but his father was ahead of him already. The hand playing with Axel slapped down on top of the zorse's head, pushing him to the ground.

"Suck your daddy's cock, boy," he commanded, and Axel eagerly wrapped two hands around his father's fat black dick and swallowed half of it so quickly, it was as if he'd breathed it in. Kieran felt the body surrounding his dick clench up again, and pressed into the resistance. Tristan walked to his friend's side, sliding one hand across his front and the other down to his ass, holding his fingers around the mass of his son's cock as it ravaged the hole. He spoke smoothly into the zebra's ear.

"It's the locker room all over again, Felix," he murmured. "You getting fucked real good by a horse cock, and spraying your thick zeeb load everywhere. Remember those days? It always smelled so good. Made me feel like a real stud. Won't get to smell it this time, though, unfortunately...because you're gonna pump it all down Axel's throat." The zebra cried out, and his body shook, arms flexing against the ropes that bound him. The nylon creaked and dug into his skin. "Yeah," Tristan purred, "hot, creamy zebra-daddy load flowing down your son's throat. So eagerly, so willingly. Bet it feels so good right now. He's blowing you like he was born to do it. Look at him." Two equine heads bent down to regard Axel's blissful, slurping servicing of his father's prick. "Maybe he was. Real good slut you've got there. Gonna have lots of fun with him tonight. But he's yours, so you get to mark him first." Kieran's father leaned in closer. "So do it, bitch. Mark your boy as owned. Pump him full of that sexy, delicious cum I know your balls are fucking full of..."

Felix's ass clenched shut, and his arms bulged against the ropes as he tried to pull them around. Kieran started fucking the zebra doubly hard, eager to cum at the same time as the other stallion. The zebra's voice was high and desperate. "Suck my dick, Axel," he cried. "Do it, son, suck Daddy's dick, oh fuck, oh fuck, I'm gonna cum, boy, I'm gonnaaaaaaAAAAA...!" His words dissolved into a high-pitched cry of ecstasy, and Kieran's joined it moments later as his cock flared and started to pulse with the creamy volume of his own load. The zebra clenched so tightly, there was barely any room for cum inside him; Kieran felt his own seed splattering back out against his crotch, soaking into his sheath and dripping down his balls exactly as it had when his father had blown him. That memory only made the feeling more intense, and he almost cried as his balls squeezed out one final squirt of cum into the zebra.

As the pleasure faded, feeling returned to his legs, and he stumbled backwards, pulling his cock from the zebra's ass with a noise like a leg being pulled free of quicksand. His father caught him, and Kieran laughed. "Oh...shit...wow..." He slumped against his father's chest, the older horse's strong arms keeping him upright. "Fuck, Dad...so good..."

"I wanna see," a breathy voice said.

Axel had stood up; a line of cum still ran down from the corner of his mouth, and he licked it up eagerly. His cock was standing strong, and it spat a spray of viscous pre-cum when he saw his father's ass. Cum was smeared all around it, and continued to drool out of it with every flex of the muscular zebra's innards. The young stallion rubbed his father's well-fucked doughnut, his chest heaving as he hyperventilated. "Oh, Daddy," he said with a desperate need. "Oh, Daddy's pretty, cummy hole...I wanna feel it..." He lifted a cum-wetted hand to his mouth, looking as if he might orgasm there and then as he licked it clean. "Like grass and fruits," he moaned.

He took his hard dick firmly in hand; his hand shaking as he lined it up to Felix's ass. His arms slipped around his father as he pushed in. He was of a length with Kieran, and with Felix still loose and wet, his dick sunk into the warm flesh in seconds, melding the two of them. Axel groaned and buried his face in the muscles of his father's back, thrusting his hips madly and unevenly. "Oh, fuck, Daddy, you feel so good, all wet with lovely horse cum..." he groaned. His cock dragged that cum out on each stroke, splashing it along both their legs. "So good fucking you, Daddy...Daddy Fucktoy...you make me so hard, Daddy, and you never let me fuck you..."

He barely lasted thirty seconds before he dragged a breath in through clenched teeth and pushed firmly against his father, letting loose a throaty neigh. Kieran could see the zorse's leg muscles clenching, and his balls pulsing in their tightened sack as he pumped his own contribution into his father. "Uffff...uhhh...Daddy...I'm cumming...I'm cumming in you, Daddy...so nice...hnnng..."

"Are you good, son?" Tristan asked softly, looking at Kieran, and the younger stallion nodded. His father released him, walking to Axel and grabbing the zorse by the mane. He pulled the stallion's head back, looking down into his eyes from his grand height. Naturally dominant.

"Did you enjoy that?" he asked the zorse, his voice deep and rough. Axel's wide eyes grew wider, and he nodded as much as the grip on his mane allowed. "Good," Tristan continued. "Because that's the last fuck you'll have tonight." Axel whimpered, and took a step back, pulling out of his father. His dick was still as hard as when it went in -- but now smeared with cum, like pale inclusions in a pitch-dark stone. "You're going to get down on your knees and clean up the mess you've made of your dad's hole. I want it to shine so brightly, I can see my reflection in his anus." He patted Axel's head. "Do a good enough job, and maybe you can play with the horses some more afterwards."

"Yes, sir," Axel croaked. He was looking up at Tristan as if he was a god. "Thank you, sir." Kieran's father let him go, and the zorse instantly sank to his knees. He placed each of his hands on a zebra ass-cheek reverently and leaned in, running his tongue up the rumpled skin of his father's impressive ball sack and thence along his crack. He whimpered as he scooped up the warm melange of horse and zorse cum that flowed out of his sire, and shivered with absolute delight and happiness.

Tristan pointed at Chet next. The zonkey hadn't moved, watching Axel and then Tristan with a calculating expression. "You." That expression vanished, replaced with a knowing smile. "Come here."

The zonkey sauntered over, taking a moment to tweak one of his bound father's nipples one last time on the way. He stopped right in front of Tristan; while he was a match for the horse's bulk, he was forced to tilt his head up to look the horse in the eye. "You picked up on Axel being a real slut, huh?" he said casually. His dick throbbed between his legs, too thick to rise. He was the thickest of them all by a comfortable margin; Kieran had pleasant flashbacks to watching that monster drive in and out of Axel's lovely hole. Chet raised a hand to brush along his father's face, and then down over his chest, sighing happily. "You're such a fucking stud, Uncle Tristan," he said. "Kieran's a very lucky boy."

"Stud, slut...just labels, Chet." His father's eyes glittered in the firelight. "Easy to give. Easy to take away. Did you pay attention when Axel swallowed your dad's dick?"

"It may have made me hard," the zonkey said lazily.

"Good." Tristan's hand dropped onto his head, and pressed; the zonkey dropped down to his knees. "Let's see if your donkey genes made your throat as thick and hot as your cock."

A memory from the barn came back to Axel, and he slipped in alongside his father. "I've got a better idea, Dad," he said, looking at the zonkey with a smirk. "Chet here was awfully interested in your nickname. Firehose." He grabbed his father's hard dick as he said it, waggling it at the zonkey. Chet tried to maintain his cool exterior, but his dick bounced, and he licked his lips. "So...why don't you give him a personal show. Nice and close. Blow your nuts all over this horny fucker, Dad...and lick it off his pretty muscles."

Chet took in a sharp breath at that. "Ohhh fuck..." was all he said, but that sealed his fate. Tristan looked down at his son's evil grin with delight, then back over at the zonkey.

"You like that, huh?" he asked the zonkey. "Maybe you should jerk off onto yourself the same time I do. More of you for my tongue to clean." Chet groaned and dropped to the ground, putting his back against one of the logs, legs splayed, dick thick and dripping. He took his prick in hand and started stroking up, looking up at the towering, ultra-masculine stallion before him.

"Cum all over me, then, you sexy cowboy," he growled. "Show me that load, Firehose. Make me jealous of your son." Tristan whinnied at him, stepping closer and grabbing his own dick. As the males sized one another up with eager looks, Kieran stayed back, then slipped up behind his father. A hand slid under his sire's tail, and he laughed at the grunt his father made when a finger felt his ring.

"Got some extra motivation for you, Dad," he said. "To help you really get those balls churning." His legs bent as he lowered himself to ass-height, lifting his father's tail -- and driving his muzzle directly in.

"UUUUUHHNNNN!" Tristan cried, his whole body tensing and relaxing in mad sequence as Kieran's tongue and lips went to town on the juicy doughnut between his father's thick, hard ass-cheeks, his eyes shut, and whinnying with abandon. This was the thing that had given the young stallion the motivation to save himself for all those weeks before arriving home. He'd watched that video of his father fingering himself over and over again. Obsessing over every part of that ass: the size, the texture, the way the hole in the middle flexed open eagerly to receive things...and clamped shut around them. It was doing that now: muscle-stud or not, his father's ass had opened under his tongue like a lily flower, letting his long equine tongue slip in and explore his musky insides. He knew his father's spots perfectly: he had spent countless evenings exploring them before he left, and countless more reliving them while away. There, and there...and there...

Kieran couldn't see what was happening on the other side of his father's body, but he could hear it. In fact, with his eyes closed, all the sounds of their impromptu little orgy were easier to follow. Off to one side, a delectable combination of sounds: sloppy sucking, slurping, swallowing and gasping. Axel was clearly giving his own father the rimming of a lifetime. Closer by: the wet, fleshy noise of equine dicks being masturbated. He knew the sound well. Hands would be sliding up and down the spit-slickened shafts, all the way from the soft, sensitive flare to the broad, stone-hard base. Dad's was a classic: straight as an arrow, with a medial ring like a blacksmith had forged a band of iron around it. The first time he'd taken it, Dad had called it his wedding ring. It felt so good, sliding in; his hole remembered, and twitched now. Soon, soon. Chet's cock, though was new, and exciting, and different: he couldn't match Dad for length, but fuck, his thickness was unbelievable. Like some cosmic plumber had slapped a fleshy drainpipe into his crotch and called it done.

Neither was Chet content to simply lie there and wait for his faceful of stallion cum, it seemed. He had a perfect view of Tristan's tall body, and he made sure the horse knew what he thought about it. "Never seen a stallion your age as fit as you, Uncle Tristan," he was saying. "Axel's a pretty enough slut, but you're a fucking stallion. I hope Kieran calls you `daddy' every time you fuck, because that's what you are. Look at that beautiful fucking dick you're holding. They should put you in front of biology classes, and say, `this is what the greatest dick in the world looks like'." A hand slapped against firm flesh. "You like my body, Uncle Tristan? I got big and strong to fuck Axel real hard, and to tease Dad with my muscles. Dad loves fucking his muscle-son. I bet I turn you on. You're in love with your boy, but you're still a stallion. Hard bodies make you horny. They make you wanna cum...all over them. Am I gonna get to see you cum, Uncle Tristan? Show me what you got, Firehose. Show me what my dad enjoyed all those years ago. Turn another zebra all-white with your magic wand, you horny, sexy, studly fucking daddy stallion..."

Kieran's hands were gripping the back of his father's thighs, and he could feel the zonkey's words making his father twitch and tremble. He loved dirty talk; before they'd had video, Kieran would record long audio messages to his father solely of dirty talk. Telling him what he was doing to himself, and saying what he imagined it was doing to his father. Dad had later told him that he'd barely lasted a minute the first few times; he'd listened over and over, though, to improve his stamina. Kieran had never thought to wonder what three years of practice might look like -- but he was seeing it now. Dad was right on the edge: his hole had tightened so much the stallion would struggle to slip a pinkie in alongside his tongue, and his son could smell the pre-cum in the air like pollen in spring. Dad leaked so much, right before he blew: if you weren't used to it, you might think he'd had a small orgasm already. Until the real thing caught you by surprise, blasting into your face, up your nose, and down your throat with its hot, musky thickness...

"Cum for me, Firehose," Chet begged. "You're just teasing me now. Fuck, look at your flare, stud. How fucking close are you? Shit, such a delicious horse prick. Maybe you should flip me over and ram that beautiful thing into me and lemme feel it blow inside..." That was the last straw for Kieran's father. His ass clenched completely shut: Kieran pulled his tongue out and dipped his head down quickly, staring between his father's legs at Chet, smelling Dad's sweaty, musky scent all around him. Chet's eyes were like dinner plates, the hand on his dick not even moving now, and his mouth was open in amazement -- and then, with a loud groan of released tension, Tristan the stallion came.

He'd aimed his dick right at Chet, and the first spurt hit him right between the pecs, in the hollow of his throat. As if a bucket of thick cream had been thrown onto the zonkey from off-camera, it splashed out to either side, across his shoulders and down his body, splattering a spiderweb of gooey horse semen across the zonkey's abs. That lasted for all of a second; the next blast landed right on the zonkey's muzzle. Kieran watched -- as if in slow motion -- how his eyes screwed shut as the cum soared through the air towards him, and how it splashed all over his face like a wave, washing up as high as his mane and coating the stiff grey-and-white hairs with fine droplets of horse seed. The blast after that hit his body again, right in the middle, and obliterated the pattern its predecessor had left there: covering the muscles in whiteness that started draining away in thick, pale rivulets along the channels formed by the ridges of the zonkey's musculature.

"Holy fuck!" was the only thing Chet had the time to say as his impromptu horse shower continued. Tristan's fourth expulsion -- no less voluminous than the previous ones -- hit Chet's dick, turning his crotch into a white lake of horse spunk. The zonkey was masturbating himself furiously now, overcome by the erotic show happening before him, and moaning endlessly with amazement and desire, using the stallion's emissions as lubricant. The cum continued to flow: another four shots landed on the zonkey, and then it began to dribble and be wasted on the ground between them. Kieran quickly stuck out a hand to catch one of those lesser spurts, licking it eagerly from his palm and nickering at the taste of his father. Exactly as he remembered. He looked up in time to see Chet's own climax, which looked like nothing so much as the final sad firework after an extravaganza. It was probably very impressive on its own, but after what the horse had just sprayed over him, it barely registered. He managed to splash his face and upper body, opening his mouth to catch some of himself in it, and swallowing with evident pleasure.

Tristan stood for a moment longer, looking down at what he'd done, and then turned to his son. Kieran looked up at him, past the rod of his dick, and rose to meet his face. The horses kissed, and Tristan snorted a hot breath against his son. "Loved your tongue in me, Kit," he said breathily. "Give me more while I clean up this mess."

"Anything you want, Dad," Kieran told him.

Tristan got down on all fours, and -- starting at the zonkey's thigh -- began to lick up the cum that covered him. He flagged his tail as he did so, and Kieran took the invitation, diving back in to taste and feel more of his father's ass. The noises he made mixed with the slurping sounds of a long tongue lapping up cum, and the slow, relaxed sounds of a zonkey basking in the afterglow of an intense orgasm. At one point, Kieran lifted his head and looked up, over his father's back, to where Axel and Felix were. The zorse had finished his own anal ministrations, and sat on a log next to Felix, watching his brother be cleaned with jealous eyes. One hand stroked his cock, and the other gently fingered his father's asshole, occasionally withdrawing to let the zorse lick it clean of cum. He smiled when Kieran looked at him, and lapped his tongue at him suggestively.

Felix himself had not said a word since he was bound...but when Kieran looked at him, he looked back with an intensity that made the horse excited and scared at the same time. There was a calculating twinkle in his eye that put him in mind of the look his father had had, just before he invented the race.

Eventually, Chet was clean again -- mostly. Droplets of cum lingered in his mane, glistening like tiny, fiery gems with refracted firelight, and he lazed against the log like a nymph. Assuming nymphs had donkey dicks. His tremendous penis lay across his belly, softened but not retracted: Tristan had licked that clean as well, an action that had made the lazy zonkey give Kieran's father another round of dirty talk. He was pretty good at it. Tristan's doughnut, meanwhile, was as clean as it got: shining with spit, and loose as the petals of an evening flower. Kieran's tongue was numb from his work, but he didn't mind. It had been a gift to be muzzle-deep in that ass for so long. He'd happily have carried on, but Felix had other plans for their incestuous little gathering.

"Come have a chat, Tristan," he said. Kieran's father got to his haunches, stopping only to take his son's face in hand and kiss him deeply, his sire's tongue sliding around inside his mouth to lick up any spittle he found.

"You taste like me," he said when he stopped, and Kieran grinned, ears perking excitedly towards his father.

"Let's keep it that way," he responded, and got a wink and a soft pat on the side of his muzzle from his father. The tall stallion pushed himself to his feet with a groan, and then stretched widely. Kieran stared up at him in love, and his father gave him another wink, and blew him a kiss, before walking over to where Felix stood. The zebra was still bound; helpless to do anything. Tristan rested an elbow on his friend's shoulder and looked him up and down, eyes lingering on his crotch.

"What's up, buttercup?" he asked casually. He reached out with a finger to flick one of Felix's nipples, staring intently at the pitch-black nub.

"Got another deal for you," the zebra said. Tristan glanced up at him with shrewd eyes.

"You and bets." The stallion snorted. "Is it all zebras that have to bet about everything, or just you? The last one nearly made Kit's balls explode. What next: caging him for a month until he's leaking so much that he ruins every pair of pants he puts on?" He paused at that thought, glancing over at his son, and Kieran gulped. That sounded horrible...and yet lovely. But Felix was aiming higher.

"Nah," the zebra said. "See...you kinda owe me."

"I owe you?"

"Yep."

"Pfft. How do you figure that?"

"Well," Felix said pleasantly, "you forced me to get all naked for a made-up reason--"

"...you'd have done it anyway, if I just asked, but sure..."

"--and that race didn't even prove anything. So. How about...we have another competition. And this time, the winner will know for sure."

"Hmm...I'm listening." The horse reached down to his friend's crotch, grabbing his balls in his hand and hefting them thoughtfully. "You big-balled bastard..."

"Same idea as your race, kinda. Different target." The zebra paused dramatically...or maybe he was taking a calming breath, as his balls were aggressively fondled. "Whose dad...is the better fucker?"

That got Tristan's attention, and he let the zebra balls drop. They bounced a little in their sack, hinting at the mass that lay within. "Interesting. But, for that to work..." He looked at the three younger stallions around the camp. "Seems like I'm at a bit of a disadvantage here. You've got two sons, and I've only got one."

"Are you telling me that the Firehose can't fuck two guys in a row just as well as one?"

Tristan smirked. "Oh, we gonna play it like that, huh?" He pursed his lips and nodded. "Okay, okay. And you know what? I'll up the stakes, just to prove a point. I'll fuck both your boys, sure -- but at the same fucking time." He made two finger guns at his friend. "Pow, pow! Two asses, one dick. Easy peasy, horsey dicky. I just need to check with Kieran. He's got standards, unlike your two sluts." A cheeky wink said that last part was in jest. "Kit?" he called. "Love? What do you say?"

Kieran didn't even need to think about it. "I had to listen to them fucking under me, Dad, and I didn't even get to cum properly." He nodded. "Fuck `em, Dad. Fuck `em hard. Especially Axel. He was a naughty fucking tease in the shower." He gave Felix a casual look. "And while you do that, I'll find out if zebras are all spunk and no junk. Maybe Felix's pecker will loosen me up for the real thing. "

Felix gave a wide grin and seemed about to retort, but Axel's giggle made them all look towards the zorse. He had his hands to his mouth, and his dick stuck out in front of him. "Horse daddy," he said with an almost drugged smile. "Zebra daddy...donkey daddy...fucked by all the daddies!"

His dick spat out more pre-cum.

Tristan undid the ropes on Felix, and they took their spots. Tristan had the two brothers on their hands and knees on a horse blanket: Axel's plug had been tugged out and discarded, and the horse's fingers dug first into the zorse's loose hole, and then smeared the extracted glops of Chet's cum onto the zonkey's own asshole. Kieran began to assume the same position, but Felix stopped him.

"Nah, bud," he said huskily. "I like to watch the bottom when I fuck. And since there're no beds out here..." He reached down and gripped Kieran under his ass, lifting him bodily into the air and smacking him with a meaty thud against his belly. Fuck, he was strong. Those arms could probably lift a fucking tractor. He stared into Felix's pretty eyes, and the zebra winked back. The young stallion wrapped his legs around the zebra's back, and his spurs clinked together again.

"Tristan," the striped equine called over, "mind giving me a hand here? Down there?"

Tristan barked a laugh, walking over to grab his friend's dick and press it firmly again his son's hole. "Limp-dick zebra bitch," he said with great amusement. His eyes smouldered as he looked at his son before walking back to where the brothers waited.

"Kieran will be the judge of that, I believe!" Felix shot back formally, and Kieran giggled. It pleased him to see his father enjoying himself so much. He deserved it. The tall stallion blew him another kiss, and walked back to the waiting brothers, slapping one hand on each equine's ass.

"Have you boys ever been fucked by a horse?" he asked.

"No, sir!" Axel said immediately. Chet simply shook his head.

"Well," Tristan said, lining himself up on Axel's hole, "it's very much like being fucked by a zebra --only better in every way." He glanced over at his son. "Kit, sweetie -- will you count us down again?"

Kieran grinned. "Ten..." he started. Felix snorted hotly into his face.

"It's much bigger than ten, bud," he murmured.

"Nine..." The zebra looked really horny. He'd been tied up listening to them all fuck -- and being teased by Axel -- for ages. And his voice was so deep suddenly.

"That's how many times you'll cum." He licked Kieran's neck. His tongue was warm and lovely.

"Eight..." The zebra cockhead was pressing harder into his ring: a marathon runner, straining at the starting line.

"I can probably manage eight hours, sure."

"S--seven..." The stallion was feeling a little flustered -- or perhaps that was just the way the zebra was slowly letting gravity pull him down, driving his penis relentlessly inward. His flare was already halfway in. Cheater.

"I once fucked seven pretty horses just like you at a party," Felix murmured. "They loved it."

"Si...uhhhh...six..." The flare had popped in. So big! Kieran wanted it much deeper, though. He was hungry for dick. He needed to be filled.

"Six is for...hm, sex. Horse sex." The zebra leaned forward again, his blunt teeth nipping the other equine's neck, and Kieran moaned deeply as the dominant action made him even more desperate.

"Fuck me already!" he cried.

"Well, that's a go," his father said wryly -- and Axel squealed like a pig as the fat horse prick he so desired drove into him. The competition was on.

Kieran forgot it was supposed to be a competition almost instantly. His world was now the fiery-hot zebra dick filling him. He'd cum enough already to leave him extremely relaxed, and the zebra's drooling tip did the rest. With a soft cockhead almost as large as a fully flared horse, the big male pressed the stallion wide open, lifting him with bulging biceps until the tip was barely inside him, and then dropping him to let gravity ram every last inch of himself up into Kieran. The young stallion screamed when he did that, but certainly not from pain. As his insides quivered and made space for the invader, the pleasure only grew, spreading along nerves and into every extremity. His very fingers started to tingle from the unending assault on his deepest pleasure points, and if the zebra hadn't been supporting his entire weight himself, the horse might have tumbled to the ground as his grip faltered and his arms hung slackly at his sides. "Uhhh...uhhhh...uhhhhh..." was all he could say; merely the sound of air being expelled from his lungs, every time he thumped into the zebra's crotch.

He managed to lift his head to watch Felix's face -- and what a sight that was. The zebra's eyes seemed completely black: in the low light, his pupils had expanded to fill their entire width. His mouth was open, but his teeth were clenched, and air hissed in between them as his chest heaved with the effort of supporting the large horse. His mountainous shoulders were up to the task, though, flexing and tensing under the skin. His nostrils flared, and he seemed to be smelling the stallion whenever he breathed in. And then the dirty talk started, gasped and spread over multiple breaths. Exactly like his son.

"Did you like fucking me, Kieran?" The stallion couldn't answer him, and his nod was invisible alongside the rise and fall of his body, the in and out of the zebra's thick member. "You really found my spot, bud. Got whatever gene makes your dad a pro fucker, huh? And whatever gene gives you an ass like this." A hard push into the horse. "Squeeze your ass tight, Kieran. I want a tight fit for my dick."

Kieran squeezed as tightly as he could, and the zebra whinnied. "That's it, bud...milk my dick dry. Your ass wants it so bad. I can feel it." He brayed deeply. "You feel almost as good as my boys. Gotta try harder if you wanna be better than them, though. Axel's such a good slut for his Dad...and Chet knows just when to lift his tail. Or when to lift mine." He groaned and lifted his face. "Half donkey, but all dick. That boy makes me scream like nothing else. You should give him a try." The zebra started pushing up with his hips when he let Kieran drop, making their bodies thud together, pushing every last inch of obsidian dick into the stallion's quivering doughnut. "And he should definitely fucking try you. Fuck, Kieran..." He was moving faster now, ramming his long cock and expanded flare so deep into Kieran it felt like it might come out of his mouth. "I love filling my boys up, and they love taking their Dad's big loads, but maybe you are a better lay than them..."

He raised his voice. "I can't hear you, Axel!" he called. In truth, Axel's high-pitched moans were impossible to overlook. Kieran's head flopped to the side, mouth ajar, tongue hanging out, and watched his own father fucking the brothers.

Kieran had been pent up for weeks before tonight, which -- combined with the overwhelming sexuality of their situation -- had made it easy to slam out a couple of big orgasms in no time. But his father had cum as recently as the day before...and yet he still fucked with the energy and indefatigability of a horny teenager. The brothers were on their knees, next to each other; their mouths were entwined, lost in a kiss. A dripping cock hung below each of them, while behind them a stallion fucked their holes. Tristan was true to his word: rather than fucking one and then the other, he was doing both at once. He'd pull out of one of the brothers, his dick wet and rock-solid in the flickering firelight, the head pulsing like a heart. He'd turn ever so slightly, his penis bobbing up and down a little, moving from one asshole to the other -- and then he'd snarl and punch forward, every muscle in his body bursting with energy, and the equine butt before him would swallow his cock whole, making the owner rock forward and moan like a needy mare. No resting on his laurels, either: he'd slam into that hole six or seven times, hard as lust, and then pull out and switch back. He fucked so hard and so fast that each brother didn't spend more than a handful of seconds empty. It was incredible.

"Your Dad's a fucking machine, bud," Felix murmured, following his eyes. "Look at that stud, fucking my boys. Makes me wanna be them. Makes me remember the day he made me a stallion, with that perfect prick of his. Fuck...I'll never forget it." His face turned back to Kieran's. "Just like you'll never forget the night Felix Fucktoy turned you into a zebra-cum fountain."

His pace accelerated, and so did Kieran's moans. The zebra's medial ring tugged on his hole whenever it exited his body, and that jolt of feeling grew stronger over time, becoming the mental rhythm of the fuck for Kieran. The sensation washed across his brain, leaving happy, sparkling islands of pleasure that faded into the background -- until the next wave. They grew closer and closer together, each little island now not fully fading away before it was refreshed. Every time, every thrust, every wave a little stronger. The islands spun about a central point: glowing, horny bubbles, satellites of the pulsating ball of fire that was the zebra's flare, buried far inside his body, and growing fatter on every thrust. The islands spun faster now through his mind, trailing wisps behind them like sexual spinnerets, intertwining and merging and growing and moving faster, faster, faster...

Kieran wondered who was screaming for Felix to go faster...before running out of breath, and realising it was him. Felix was holding him immobile now, letting his hips do all the work: ramming in and out of him with frenzied need and a flare like an orange. Kieran could feel it scraping over every part of him, and it was too much, he couldn't bear any more, he had to...

"Daaaaaad I'm cuUUUMMMIII...!"

"Cum in me, daddy horse, fill me...!"

"Fuuuuuuuckfuckfuckohfuck...ohhhh..."

Kieran's orgasm was right there, on the cusp, but the sound of his father's cries pulled his disbelieving eyes towards his sire. The big stallion was hilted inside Axel, pumping him full of cum: his son could see the underside of his dick pulsing with the flow. But midway...he pulled out, his flare almost turning the zorse's ass inside out as it came bursting forth, cum spraying freely over everything around him. Firehose is cumming. His father grabbed the shaft, even as his body must be half-paralysed from the power of the orgasm, and thrust into Chet, ramming into the zonkey so hard they both almost fell over. His hips started pounding again, and he finished his climax inside the other male.

He really had fucked them both at once.

The thought finished Kieran. Ten, a hundred, a thousand seconds of time -- he wouldn't ever be able to say which -- were erased from reality. The circling islands of pleasure all merged with the flare's explosive light, and bliss replaced feeling. He was in the sky, as high as the stars, touching their fire and being soaked in their splendour as they called his name. Kieran, Kieran...

"Kieran!"

His eyes flew open, and he gasped for air. Liquid dribbled into his mouth, and he stared into the shocked face of Felix: wet as rain, and painted white. "What..." His ass was wet, too; he could feel warmth running out of it.

"Shit, bud..." Felix said in amazement, blinking cum out of his eyes and licking more from the side of his mouth. "That was...something else." He laughed. "Wow. You sure are your dad's son." He looked over his shoulder. "I'm pretty sure I won, Tristan. Look at the fucking mess he made of me."

"Fuck...you..." The stallion was collapsed on the ground, breathing heavily. Sweat soaked his mane and ran down his chest, and his cock was halfway back into his sheath. Next to him, two well-fucked assholes drooled cum: Axel was fingering his, while Chet had braced his hands against a log and was groaning wordlessly, a thick line of cum descending from his own cock and soaking the horse blanket under him.

Felix's cock suddenly fell loose of Kieran, and the horse shuddered at the feeling of the massive flare exiting him -- along with a tidal wash of cum. The zebra's arms trembled, and he quickly lowered the horse to his hooves; Kieran crumpled to the ground and lay there, staring up at the stars, trying to process what his body was telling him.

Overall, the message seemed to be: that was a hell of a fuck.

At some point, his father crawled over, and Kieran lifted his head onto his father's sweaty, grimy chest, and simply lay there. The rise and fall of his sire's breathing were so relaxing. His body thrummed with the aftermath of the intense fuck, and he let his mind drift away. The others seemed to need time to recover as well; something approximating silence fell over the equines, punctured only by wet farts and soft noises of happiness.

Chet's mumbles made Kieran focus again. "Fucking...horsecocks," the zonkey was grumbling, apparently to himself. He'd flopped over onto his back, one leg raised; when Kieran turned his head, he could see the raw redness that his father had left where there'd previously been a perky zonkey asshole. Cum squirted out of it whenever the male flexed.

"That's what they do," Tristan said with immense satisfaction. "Fuck you good and leave you dripping."

"Okay, boys," Felix said. He was still standing, somehow; he sounded exhausted. Not surprising. "Get your votes in. Who fucks better: me...or Tristan?"

"Uhhhnn..." said Felix, still barely conscious, face down in the horse blanket. The fingers in his ass were sliding in and out of himself as if on autopilot.

Tristan's hand gently stroked his son's mane. "What do you say, Kit?" his father asked softly. Kieran didn't need to think about it, really, but he made a show of doing so anyway. He pushed himself up on an elbow, looking across the expanse of his father's nude chest to the zebra standing beyond. "You're fucking good, Felix," he started, and the zebra smirked and nodded a couple of times. "But...my dad's better."

"Psh." The zebra looked at his friend. "Okay, then. Chet? Axel?"

The pause felt dramatically long, as Axel struggled to put conscious thought together. "He's...really good, Daddy," the zorse said, blinking and rubbing himself. "But -- I think you're better."

"Yeah," Chet agreed. "Definitely you, stud." He nodded slowly. "Just."

"Just!?" Felix looked affronted. "After all I've done for you boys..."

"He fucked us both! At the same fucking time! And he cums so much! Fuck!" Chet grabbed his legs and pulled them apart, lifting his ass to show how the salty cum still came out when he flexed. "It's still leaking out..."

That seemed to remind Axel of something, because he looked about frantically, then lunged for something on the ground: the plug that Tristan had removed from him. He inserted it back into himself with a happy noise, and slowly pushed himself to his feet. With the loose-legged waddle of a well-fucked sub, he made his way to his father, kneeling on the ground in front of him when he reached him. "Daddy," he begged, "can I get tied up, too? Like you were?"

"Later, son," the zebra said, patting his son's head. He looked over at Tristan. "So. I win! Hands down. Two to one."

"Well, now, hold your son-horses," Tristan said. He rolled over onto his belly, legs bent, feet in the air, hands held up before him. His thighs were spread enough for Kieran to see his balls resting between them, just below the curve of his ass. The young stallion smiled, and moved slowly forward, muzzle inching closer to his father's nutsack as he spoke. "Kieran voted for me," the older horse said. "That's a baseline one." He held up one finger. "And you won your own boys over by a small margi--FFFFUCK!" His head whipped around as Kieran's tongue started licking up the back of his balls, moving them about in the loose, salty sack. His father tasted like sweat and cum. Was there a better flavour for a stallion? "Oh, shit...yeah...good boy, Kieran," his father rumbled, turning back to his conversation as his son attended to his nuts.

"A small margin," he finished saying. "Therefore." He held up two fingers on his other hand. "Two almost-wins from them, and one full win from Kit." He brought the three fingers together. "Even a conservative estimate makes that at least two for me. Out of three." He spread his palms and grinned. "And the winner of the inaugural Horsefuck Derby is..." Two thumbs stuck towards himself. "This guy!" He whinnied with satisfaction.

Felix seemed about to contend the point, then blew a raspberry and gestured dismissively. "Yeah, fine, whatever. How you're not a fucking zebra, I'll never know. Fucking magic balls."

"Um, fucking delicious balls, thank you," Kieran interjected, raising his head to glare at the zebra, and Felix chuckled, looking over at his own sons. He reached down, grabbing the coils of rope that had previously been used to bind him.

"Axel," he said slyly. His son made a thrilled sound. "Come to Daddy."

Axel shuffled forward, hands held crossed in front of him, his dick hardening up again. "Yes, Daddy," he said submissively, standing still as his father tied his wrists together and then stood up to have it threaded around his back and under his crotch, one loop circling the base of his dick. As it tightened, the stallion's cock grew thicker, and the veins stood out proudly. Kieran remembered his veiny it had been in the shower; it was even more so now. Felix stroked his son's cock with pleasure.

"There, now you're all tied up for Daddy," he murmured. Axel was quivering so much, he looked as if he might explode. "Who's the fucktoy now, Axel?"

"Me!" the stallion cried out hoarsely. Rope notwithstanding, he was dripping his excitement all over the ground. "I'm your fucktoy, Daddy."

"Mhm," the zebra said, lowering himself back to the ground and spreading his legs. "Now...give your Dad's balls a nice wash, son."

Axel's knees thumped into the ground and his face shot forward, lapping across the two huge black zebra testicles with the eagerness of a desert traveller at an oasis. Felix groaned and let his head flop backwards, eyes fluttering shut. "Yes, son...fuck, yeah..." he groaned. There was a softer groan, and Kieran's eyes flicked up to see Chet getting to his feet. He had a naughty look on his face, and he stole closer to his father with careful footsteps -- and then threw one leg over his face. Felix jerked, but as cum-soaked zonkey ass pressed against his mouth, he relaxed. A dark tongue slipped out and dug inside it, making Chet whimper.

"Yes, Dad, yessss...mmmh...clean it good. Full of tasty horse cum for you, fresh from the flare..." His tufted tail swished across his father's chest as his hands braced against his thighs, and he moved his hips this way and that, giving his father full access to his rear. Felix wasted no time, and the wet slurps of his rimming echoed those that Axel had made earlier that night.

The equines passed the time in happy oral exploration, letting their bodies recover from the earlier exertions. None of them suggested that it might be over. They had spent two days in a near-constant state of sexual tension, and it would take far more than one or two orgasms to fully expend that bound-up energy. Here and there, one of them threw a teasing sexual jab at one of the others, receiving a promise of flared retribution in return. Lazy eyes wandered between handsome naked bodies, sizing them up and planning next steps. The suggestions grew more detailed, and more carnal. The fire burned low; fresh logs were thrown on, making the flames shoot high into the air as the fuel was consumed, stabbing red and yellow and crimson light out across the recumbent, horny equines. As the fire grew hotter once more, so did they -- and Kieran led the pack.

A spit-soaked bollock fell from the young stallion's mouth with a wet plop. "Felix talked about the time you made him a stallion, Dad," he said, looking up along his father's body at his face. Tristan was on his back again, head resting on a log, watching his son suck his nuts. "Did you really take his virginity?"

"He says so." The older stallion scratched the side of his son's muzzle. "But he sure took my dick easily enough for a virgin."

"Hehe." Kieran nuzzled against his father's balls, pushing them around. "He sounded jealous of Axel and Chet when you were fucking them. And he does have a really nice ass."

"Doesn't he just?" The stallion's eyes unfocused, remembering. "Zebra ass and horse dick...it's like they're made for one another. And yesterday's fuck was so quick. I was so pent up. I wouldn't mind another chance to do it properly."

Kieran lapped at a ball and up the scrotum, all the way up to his father's sheath. "I'd really like to see that, Dad. Maybe..." He glanced over at the zonkey that still straddled Felix's face, grinding into him and braying wildly; his father's hands were gripping his sides and pulling him down. "You take Felix for a ride...and Chet can try my ass."

"Horny boy."

"You love it."

"Fuck, yeah, I do." Tristan turned his head to look at their guests. "And Axel?"

Kieran shrugged. "He's tied up. He'll sit still and do as he's told."

"Oh? Is that a little dominance I see in you, son?"

"It must be infectious. You've been quite the dom tonight yourself."

"Simply want to make sure these striped bitches remember not to mess with us again."

"Fucking right." He considered. "Well...unless it's like this. I like this kind of messing with us." The young stallion crawled up over his father's body and kissed him. "Save some of that sexual energy for me, old man."

His father's eyes twinkled. "Don't worry, Kit. Got a special reserve of studliness, just for you."

Kieran got onto his haunches, looking over at Chet and Felix. "Chet." The zonkey looked at him, and the horse turned around, lifting his tail into the air. "I want some of what Axel gets."

The zonkey growled at the sight of the horse's well-stretched hole, still oozing zebra cum, and climbed off of his father. Tristan, meanwhile, snapped his fingers at Felix, gesturing down at his dick. Father and son smirked at one another and approached their respective partners. "Time for round two?" Felix asked, sliding a hand over his friend's hard body. "I won't lie, I enjoyed yesterday's brief return to Horsecock Land, Tristan."

"You'll be going back again," the horse said, "but it's gonna be a much rougher ride this time." His nostrils spread wide, and his lip was high in flehmen, smelling his friend. "You smell like my son's cum," he said gruffly.

"But all I taste is yours," the zebra shot back. "You filled Chet up real nice, by the way. He's never tasted better than with your thick jizz seasoning that muscled hole."

"Filling zebras is my speciality." He grabbed the zebra's mane, bending his head back and looming over his exposed neck like a vampire. "Do you remember what you used to say in the locker room?"

The zebra's cock was dropping with meteoric speed. "Fuck me, Firehose," he said huskily.

Kieran watched his father throw the big zebra male to the ground, lift his tail, and ram three fingers into him. Felix groaned and arched his back. "Yeah..." he groaned. "Fuck me, you fucking stud horse. I'm all lubed with your boy's hot cum, loose and ready for the daddy stallion. Show me how you taught Kieran to fuck, you sexy stud. Fuck me like you fucked me in school, Firehose."

Kieran's tail was suddenly pulled up as well, and he dragged his eyes away from the sight of his dominant father to see Chet, smirking at him from behind. "You know what my favourite thing to do is, Kieran?" he asked playfully. He swept his cockhead back and forth across the stallion's winking hole. "After Dad's played with Axel, and the little slut's still all loose and juicy...I go and fuck him myself." He sighed happily. "Nothing like a hole right after Dad's cum into it. His jizz is so nice and slippery...and the guys are always so loose..." His flare pushed up against Kieran's ring. "Gives them at least a chance to fit me."

The first few inches were easy; Chet wasn't any thicker than a horse there. But after that, it only got wider, and wider, and Kieran's ass began to stretch further than it had ever had to do before. Kieran groaned and whimpered, loving and fearing the feeling...but his eyes were fixed forward, on the sight of a long, perfect stallion cock, against a backdrop of flames, aimed at a zebra's ass. His father was smearing his cum-covered fingers along his shaft, and he looked across at his son. The tall horse stood straight up; Felix was big enough that the stallion didn't need to bend his legs to be at the perfect height to fuck him. He was so tall; Kieran loved how small it made him feel. Like physical proof of his father's protection over him. Tristan's big, dark eyes were mysterious pools that Kieran wanted to drown in, and his cock...if he spent one more day without feeling it inside him at least once, he'd call it a failure.

"Look at me, son," Tristan said redundantly. Kieran gaped up at him. "I want you to watch me."

"Yes, Dad," Kieran whispered. Chet was halfway inside him, and he felt like his ass was splitting open.

"I'm going to fuck this horny zebra, Kit, like I fucked him the first time." He pushed three fingers back into the zebra, making him moan. "Pay attention, because however hard I fuck him now..." He pulled his hand out and pointed at his son with a single cum-slick finger. "I'm going to fuck you twice as hard. You fucking sexy thing."

"Yes, Dad," Kieran breathed, gasping for air as his ass was devoured by donkey dick. "Yes, please, Daddy..." Chet was gripping his hips hard, pressing forward constantly, barely giving the horse time to get used to the width each extra inch added before pushing in the next. It might have really hurt, had Kieran not already been loosened and lubricated by Felix. But any discomfort, potential or otherwise, was in the back of his mind: his attention, his senses, were focused on the sight before him. His magnificent father, a god amongst horses, preparing to demonstrate the fuck he'd been saving up for his son for three endless years.

Tristan pushed into Felix, his soft flare squeezing through the zebra's ring with a lascivious sound. Felix grunted as it expanded inside his ring, and the horse held it there. "You like my flare, don't you, Kit?" he asked rhetorically. Kieran couldn't have answered anyway; all of his breath was being used to tense up against the slow explosion happening in his rear. Tristan pulled back a little, making the zebra's ass bulge from the mass of flesh just inside of it, trying to escape. "You like to feel full of your dad's cock. I made you with that cock, son. The same flare that makes you whimper and say my name is the one that got your mother pregnant. The same white coltseed that swam up into her, fills your ass when I fuck you." Kieran's imagination spun with the image of his father's powerful swimmers driving vainly into him. "A little bit of what made you, getting spurted inside you, son." He began pushing into Felix, grabbing the zebra's tail and lifting it high. "And a little bit of what you made, is inside him."

Chet's medial ring slipped inside Kieran; it felt like a basketball had been pushed into the horse. The stallion's cock hung under him, as hard as it ever got, dripping musky pre-cum. His balls swung back and forth, refilled and ready.

His father stopped again when his dick was halfway inside Felix, ignoring the whimper of need from the zebra. "Some fucks are slow, Kit," he said, as if lecturing a room of students. "Some are fast. Some are middling. And some...some are..." He snorted. "Some are because I've had to watch you jerking off to me over video for three years, and all I could dream about was reaching through the screen to grab you, and kiss you, and throw you down on the bed, and rip off all your clothes, and slide my dick as deep into that wonderful young tight horse ass as it will go..." The horse thrust hard, driving the rest of his dark cock into the zebra. "And fucking you so fucking hard, over and over and over again..." He pulled out and thrust back inside Felix on each word, making the zebra scream with pleasure. "Until you almost pass out screaming my name." His voice was like gravel now. "You sexy, beautiful, amazing creature."

Chet had also hilted, and then paused -- perhaps listening to his father's little speech. Kieran was trying to relax as best he could, flexing his walls against the invading donkey cock now and then. It was beyond big. Once it started moving around, it would touch every part of him at once. How would that feel?

Fucking awesome, he suspected.

Tristan pulled halfway out of the zebra, and pushed back in. "I've missed your body, Kit," he moaned. "I've missed your beauty. I've missed touching you all over, to make you moan. I've missed sleeping next to you, and slipping my dick into you, and slow-fucking you until you wake with a gasp and a cry and a spit of cum over the blankets. I've missed seeing you get out of the shower with those sexy eyes, and seeing you lap at me with that naughty tongue, and then bending over to feel that warm, wet muscle invade me...and then have it replaced by your beautiful dick." He sighed, head lifted, eyes closed, hips rocking back and forth, fucking the zebra with only half of his long length now. "I love how you fuck me, son. You're so gentle and sweet. So much love, in every stroke." He looked down at his dick, sliding in and out of his friend, and then over at his son. Kieran felt his stomach do a flip; it was as if it wasn't his father that looked at him, but some other creature. Something feral, and horny, and unstoppable.

"But that's not tonight's fuck, son," his father growled bestially. "Tonight's fuck is payback. Payback for every time you showed me your dick over video, and blew your sexy load all over your chest, and licked it off your fingers and called me daddy." He pulled almost entirely out of the zebra, and then thrust in with a single smooth motion that made Felix grunt and cry out, his sounds ignored. "It's for all the times you took a picture of your dick in class, under the desk, with the caption `You'd look good sucking my dick under here'." His hips had sped up; one hoof shifted back for leverage. "Tonight's fuck is for payback, for revenge, for reminding you...that my dick's the only dick you need. Zebra, donkey, zorse...fuck `em all. I did. And horse dick always wins, son. Every." Thrust. "Fucking." Double thrust. "Time." Thrust. He grabbed Felix's hips. "This is how I'll fuck you, Kit. Except twice as hard."

It was as if a switch got flipped on, somewhere inside Tristan. The slow, measured pace of his fuck vanished in an instant, replaced with animal fury. He practically lifted the zebra's rear off the ground, he was gripping him so hard; his powerful biceps stood out in vascular glory. His legs had spread apart, and he swung his whole body back and forward, using all of his strength to drive his fantastic horsecock in and out of the doughnut in front of him. The sheer power he manifested -- as if from nowhere -- was impressive by itself. But it was the speed that was truly staggering: the wet plops of his sheath impacted Felix's ass weren't even a second apart. He grunted like a beast, snorting and snarling wordless exhortations at the utterly helpless mate below him. Perhaps Felix might have asked him to stop -- but he'd been pushed beyond that point already. He was making a single sound, a groan, a cry that emptied his lungs, then broke to refill them, and then continued. His head was buried in his arms and his dick was hanging from his sheath, not fully hard, but far from soft. The mass of zebra dick jumped and jiggled every time the enormous stallion slammed against his body, and the line of pre-cum that drooled from it was a golden thread, sent shimmering by dancing flames. Even if he'd had the capability to say stop, he wouldn't have dared. He was getting the sort of fucking most males could only dream of.

Tristan's body was covered with a sheen of sweat again; he glowed with power. Kieran stared in awe and lust at his father, the best stallion he'd ever known, showing him what the combination of decades of experience and a really big horse dick could do. He could hear a plap, plap behind himself as Chet fucked him, but the zonkey was just another equine. He lacked Dad's innate fire, or the irresistible force of years of withheld sex. His dick felt amazing, and Kieran loved it inside him...but it was simply a dick. It wasn't Dad. At this point, all other dicks were merely preparation for the final act.

His father was overpowering. He had been, all night, but now the fun was over. They'd played their games with the others, teased around one another, and Kieran couldn't keep it up anymore. He needed his father in him, around him, filling him. He needed to smell him, taste him, be fucked by him. He needed it now.

"Daddy," he gasped, his voice as urgent as the relentless pace of the big stallion's fucking, and his father's head whirled around. Firelight twinkled in the corners of his sire's eyes. Tristan snarled, and pulled back; tugging his entire dick free of the zebra beneath him with a spray of liquid, cum and pre-cum and spit, the droplets catching the fire as they spun out into the night sky, glowing like beads of gold. His father stood absolutely upright. with hands clenched and face eager. He was the peak of stallionhood; masculine perfection. Nobody could deny it. His dick jutted outward, a sexual promontory, without curve or dip. It glowed in the ruddy firelight: a weapon, fresh-pulled from the forge, hot, and hard, and ready to be hammered into something else.

Or someone else.

Kieran heard Chet's gasp as his father strode towards them, each step seeming capable of crossing continents. Then his ass was emptying, as the zonkey pulled out, acceding to the superior male. Tristan did not need to speak: his body, his face, his dick said it all. He, like his son, had circled this ultimate point long enough. He desired consummation, now: an end to his too-long wait. Kieran sensed Chet staggering to the side in the corner of his vision, but he didn't care. He could not, would not pull his face away from his father's. His sire was beyond mortal, surely, for no mere horse could be as he was. As the masterworked stallion approached, Kieran slid onto his back, legs spread. He could imagine how his hole looked, widened by Chet's beast and dripping wet with donkey pre-cum and zebra cum. All of the fun tonight had been preparing him for this. He could receive his father now.

The tall stallion thudded to his knees before his son. Rough hands grabbed his calves and pulled him forward, making Kieran gasp. His aim was perfect: the long stallion cock sunk home on the first thrust, from root to stem, burying all eighteen inches of his sire's perfectly black, perfectly thick, perfectly filling penis inside the ass that had lusted after him for too many years.

Kieran's hands clenched into the horse blanket, and his head fell back as he screamed. "YES, fuck, oh FUCK, Dad...oh, oh, ohhhhhh..." The last words juddered as his father whinnied loudly, like a stallion in heat, and pounded against his son like a mad thing. It was as if furious winds swirled inside him, venting their power and frustrations through his cock. Kieran voiced the feelings for them both, for Tristan was entirely lost to the need to rut his son with every ounce of strength and power he possessed. He truly had held back for him, for not even Felix had endured the assault Kieran was now subjected to. The young stallion screamed, and groaned, and screamed again. He yelled invocations to the star-strewn night sky, and begged for more -- always, more. His father's dick was everything that made life good. It speared into him, hot as blood, long as need. The gigantic flare pressed into every corner and made his body try to twist around itself to keep it in him -- and made him almost weep when it withdrew. Only to return, blessedly, moments later, with a snort and a bellow from his father. His beloved.

His mate.

Other cries sounded out as well. Chet and Felix, desperate, horny, and robbed of their toys, had advanced on Axel. The still-bound stallion had watched everything playing out with eager eyes, his hands just about managing to stroke along his dick. But now he lay atop his father, getting fucked; Felix had tugged his son on top of him, pulled out his plug, and thrust his dick inside him. Chet knelt behind them both, his own dick forcing its way into the hole that already held a fat, full zebra cock. Axel's high-pitched screams held not an iota of pain; only ecstatic pleasure as his brother and his father fucked him in tandem. Felix's mouth found his son's, and the screams dissolved into hot, grunting kisses to match the uh, uh, uh of Chet's hard, senseless fuck into his brother's small hole.

But Kieran didn't care what the others did. He had what he wanted -- what he'd wanted for so, so long. His hands slid restlessly about his father's sweaty body, feeling his muscles, feeling them flex as they pounded the long inches of stallion prick into him. His ass was numb with pleasure, and he fought to keep his mind clear. He wanted to remember all of this. The islands of pleasure were gathering again, and he pushed them away as best he could. He stared up into his father's black-on-black eyes, his long lashes, the way his mane hung down around his shoulders. He took one of his nipples in his fingers and squeezed, making the big stallion whinny and slam extra-hard against him. He reached for his neck with one hand, then two. His fingers wrapped around his father's neck -- and the words came hissing out.

"That all you got, bitch?"

Tristan went berserk. Kieran could feel his father's neck muscles straining under his fingers, and he gripped them with claw-like fingers -- barely making an indentation in the flesh. Dad would feel it, though. He'd feel his resistance there -- and in his ass. He clenched those other muscles as if trying to turn himself inside out, making his father fight for his breeding right. He was his Dad's son, his fucktoy, his rut-hole. His painfully beautiful father was in him, so deep in him, so wonderfully deep...

He pulled his father's head down and kissed him. Same as the fuck: rough, and messy. Tongues and lips slapped around, and snorts of air. He caught his father's tongue in his mouth and sucked on it, then released and dug deep inside his mouth. His father's taste was earthy, distinctly him. Irreplaceable. Like his cock. Like every part of him. Kieran moaned, breaking the kiss and nuzzling into his father's mane. "Cum in me...cum in me...cum in me..." was all he could say, his mind lost, his body given over to the powerful stallion ravaging it. He wanted to feel his father's completion deep inside. He wanted the firehose to fill him.

"Cum in me, Firehose!" he screamed.

Tristan roared, his veins standing out all across his body like seared marks in the skin, his head pulling up as his neck muscles spasmed. Kieran felt a sudden bulge grow deep inside him, and he cried out in happy exultation. "Yes! Yes!" His father's firehose swelled as he came, pressing hard against his son's insides, and then expelling its hot gift with eponymous force. Kieran could feel it: the heat spread through him, and the volume distended him. He felt beyond full, suddenly, and he whimpered with pleasure at what that meant. Dad's delicious cum; his monstrously productive balls, unloading everything they had in him. Breeding his son with lust and joy and triumph.

The fluid volume stretched Kieran's passage so wide, even the stallion's flared cock couldn't hold it in. Kieran's doughnut quivered as warmth flowed out of him like a river, drenching the blanket beneath them. The heat of his father's lust did it for him, too; his own cock flared, and his balls began to pump what cum remained in them after the long evening's fun. It was beyond bliss, and the stallion's head fell to the side, staring out at nothing, moaning like a mare after a stallion's mounting. His father didn't notice, or didn't care; his purpose in this moment was to breed, and breed he would. His unstoppable dick continued to thrust in and out, splashing them both with his cum. His hardness was now independent of his body: he would fuck his son forever if he could.

Kieran went somewhere else. His orgasm had passed, but that was only a fraction of the pleasure -- and the pleasure continued. Dad still fucked him, still emptied his paternal gift into him. He could not say how long ago it had begun, and he never wished for it to end. A part of him knew it must, but facts could change. Surely, he and his father could remain like this forever. Endlessly fucking, inextricably bound. Cumming, and stopping, and cumming again. They would become a mere part of the world, an immutable point. The stallion and his son. The two lovers. The perfect couple.

Sense returned. A wet hand lifted his head, and warm lips met his. Like a fairy tale, it revived him; his eyes focused on the face of his father, smiling down at him. He was drenched in sweat, and cum, and his dick was still inside Kieran. But he'd stopped fucking. It was over...for now.

"Welcome home, son," his father said.

The rest of the journey was far more interesting. The days were spent in travelling, but the evenings were spent in naked glory, exploring one another's bodies and discovering anew each night the pleasures a stallion's cock might provide. Kieran and Tristan were happy to participate, but they always found time to simply be with one another, rekindling their ardour. It grew by the hour, and oftentimes they'd let the others ride on ahead, and stop, and find a spot under a tree to be with one another in pleasurable self-discovery. When they eventually caught back up with the rest, as often as not they'd find that Felix and his sons had already begun to have their own fun. And then they'd grin, and slip off their clothes, and join them.

It took them a week to make it back to the ranch house, four days longer than expected. Felix pulled his mount up short as the home came into view, looking at their destination with pursed lips. "Kinda sad it's over already," he said. He looked over at his sons; Axel was riding with his plug in again, each bounce of the mount under him making him moan and go cross-eyed. Chet was right behind him, watching his brother's ass rise and fall, and licking his lips. "But at the same time," the zebra added wryly, "it ain't a moment too soon." He chuckled. "Gotta get these two straightened out. Remind `em why their dad's dick is best."

"'course you do, Felix," Tristan said with amusement.

"Mhm." The zebra slapped his reins, yelled "yah!", and galloped towards the house. Axel's horse followed suit, making the young stallion's moans rise an entire octave and five decibels with the increased pressure on his ass, and Chet simply grinned at the two horses and galloped on after his family.

Kieran walked his horse a little closer to his father's. "What exactly did you see in him in school, Dad?" he asked.

His father looked lost for a moment. "Oh! Felix? Well...he beat me at a game. So I wanted revenge. And one thing led to another, and..."

"...and you fucked him for half a year in a locker room?"

His father considered. "Quite out of hand."

Kieran laughed. "What was the game?"

"Oh, you won't know it. Was called Wangalong."

The zebra and his sons left that afternoon, after voluminous hugs and promises to return soon. Felix slapped Kieran on the back one last time, nodded, told him that he'd make a fucking good rancher, and said if he ever got tired of horsecock, he knew where to come. When Kieran queried if that place was "in your ass again, Felix", the zebra guffawed and told Tristan he had a fucking great son.

And then they were gone.

Kieran waved the hire car away as it bounced down the road, one arm around his father. When both the dust and the car had faded, he looked up at his sire and sighed.

"That was a hell of a way to get back home."

Tristan hugged him. "Did you enjoy it?"

Kieran grinned. "Before I knew, I wanted to murder all of them. So much fucking teasing...but that first night with you was incredible, stud." He leaned up for a kiss. "It made up for everything. They're pretty fun guys...and Chet's dick is almost as good as yours."

"Almost."

Kieran smirked. "Almost." He fondled his father's crotch. "You'll always be number one, Dad."

"Yeah?" The stallion pushed closer to him, his bulge pressing into his son's belly. "I mean...sure, I know that, but the Firehose forgets sometimes." He looked down at himself. "Wanna remind him?"

Kieran grabbed his father's hand and pulled him towards the barn. Evening was falling, and orange light stabbed through the wooden slats of the barn walls. Kieran twirled around, and his father watched in amusement. "Are we going to dance?" the tall equine asked.

"Maybe." Kieran performed a terrible jeté. "We can do whatever we like, now, Dad. Forever."

"I want to do you forever, Kit."

"You had fucking better, stud." He twirled back into his father's grasp and kissed him again. "Don't you remember, though? You told the story the other day." He gestured around them. "This is where it all began."

"Aha," Tristan said. He looked about. "The birthplace of us. Oh...and of you, actually."

Kieran blinked. "What? I was born in a barn? Since when?"

"Never. Only teasing." His father licked his nose. "Silly boy."

"Pfft." He licked back. "I prefer naughty boy." One hand slid down his father's pants. "Or big boy."

His father flexed the swelling dick that now filled his palm. "Compromise. Horny boy?"

"Very horny boy," Kieran corrected. He picked at his father's clothes, and pointed at a big pile of clean hay that he'd snuck out earlier to make. "Get these off, stud, and lie down there."

They both stripped. Kieran stood, looking down at his naked father, stretched out on a pile of straw with his arms behind his head, his legs spread wide, and a massive smirk on his face. Tristan winked an eye -- and then an asshole -- at his son. "Now, pardner," the older stallion drawled, "you've learned a whole heck of a lot since you got back `ere to the farm. But I'm just gonna need to make sure you're still a real farm boy, where it counts." His eyes looked greedily at his son's penis.

"Shore thing, pops!" Kieran said, lowering himself onto his father's body, getting comfortable and pressing his already-sopping flare into the excited opening of his father's ass. Tristan's expression melted into one of bliss as his son's penis pressed against him, and they both gave happy sighs. "I learned it all real good, Firehose," Kieran whispered. "First rule is..."

His father's body accepted him as if it had been made for him.

"...horse dick always wins."