textfiles/sex/EROTICA/S/stallion.txt

THE STALLION RIDES

by

Horseboy


This story contains explicit sex between males, and makes no pretense at
conforming to or advocating any particular ethical standard.  If such
material offends you, please read no further.

I welcome comments on this and other stories put out by Studfarm Stories and
Services.  We may be reached at kpeck@cybernetics.com.



















	The stable reeks of hay, old leather, and piss.  Rusty scythes
and harnesses hang from pegs on the walls.  Hot sunlight slants
through gaps in the timbers.  The air is like steam.

	Stallions mill around me.  Big beasts, all of different colors:
black, white, bay, pied.  They will not come closer to me than
ten feet; they shy away if I approach them.  Their ears are
pressed back against their heads, their nostrils flair.  They
watch.  Like me, they're here to breed.

	I stalk back and forth, heart hammering.  I'm nude.  My buns
flex.  I have no tan lines on them.  My big balls -- shaved --
bounce off the hard muscles in my thighs.  I'm erect.  It's far
too massive to jut upright like some little boy's cock.  No, it
thrusts arrogantly out in front of me, parallel to the floor,
bobbing up and down as my heart beats, too heavy to stand tall. 
My foreskin is pulled back halfway over the fat cockhead. 
Precum falls like water dripping from a leaky faucet.

	I stink of sweat.  Sweat glues hair to my pumped-up pectorals. 
It has pulled my armpit hair into spiky tufts; it now drips off
like the hot fluid leaking from my cock.  There's sweat in my
navel.  My crotch hair, though, isn't matted, because it's been
trimmed down to wiry stubble.

	I need to piss.  The pressure is intense.  How I want to spray
my scent over the warm hay.  Mark my turf.  But I don't, for
this isn't my territory.  It's the stallions'.

	Suddenly, the wait ends.  He's arrived.

	I see his silhouette through the gaps in the timbers of the
locked stable door.  He's just a shadow in the sun's hot
radiance.  The stallions smell him.  I smell him.  He's got a
manly odor -- head-cheese, ball-juice, sweat and hard muscles.

	He unlocks the stable doors, opens them.  The sunlight explodes
into the barn.  He says, "Horseboy."

	"I'm ready.  Get in here."

	He strides forward, boots clumping.  I see him clearly now. 
He's an older man -- but not old.  Dark hair, bright smile.  He
wears boots and a tight pair of Levi's.  Sweat streaks his
chest.  His nipples -- tiny, erect -- point straight at me like
compass needles.  His belly is firm, not chiseled.  His prick
pushes down the right leg of his jeans.  Wet spots reach all the
way down them -- drool from his cock.

	He walks upright, eyes front, chest out.  He's never had a
woman, never been pussywhipped.  Proud.  Life's not beaten him
yet.  A male who breeds only with men.  

	He's called Forest.  He keeps me.  I keep him.  We breed.

	The stallions' heads turn with his progress towards me.  Eyes
glitter like wet sapphires.  Their ears rise and turn to follow
him like radar locking onto a missile.  Big cockheads emerge
from the sheaths between those legs.  The air is enriched with
their powerful male scent.

	"Stop," I say.

	He freezes.  His eyes are glued to my erection, watching it
slowly flex upwards, then bob downwards, a rhythm constant as a
metronome.  

	A fly lands on my buttock.  A twitch of muscle sends it away. 
I fart.  "You hot?" I ask.

	He nods.  Eyes never rise from my erection.

	"Me, too,"  I say.  

	He steps forward.  He glances up at my face, sees me grinning. 
He stops in front of me.  His eyes drop to my cock.  My foreskin
has slid further back -- air kisses my cheesy cockhead.  Sweat
drips off my balls.

	I grab his crotch, feel the bulge.  I unbutton the fly, but
leave the top button closed.  A few wiry wisps of pubic hair
escape.  I see the base of his thick cock, pulsing like a big
fat earthworm.

	I grab his chin.  I force his gaze up to my eyes.  He doesn't
want to look away from my young prick.  We lock gazes.  He grabs
my iron-hard rod and maneuvers the fat head into his fly.  My
wet pisslips kiss his groin.

	He sucks in his breath sharply.

	I let the flood loose.  Hot piss sprays into his groin.  The
dark stain blooms in his crotch, runs down his legs.  My piss
runs along the length of his rigid cock.  A spout of my pee
pours over his pisshole, mingles with his precum.

	His eyes roll up into his head.  I kiss him.  I hose him.

	When my piss floods and overflows his shit-stained boots, I
break it off and pull back from him.  Instantly his eyes go down
to my urine-dripping cock again.  

	I admire my handiwork.  From his crotch, down his inner thighs,
all round his lower legs -- his jeans are soaked with my piss. 
I imagine it steaming on him.  Hay floats in the standing pools.
 I've marked him.  He bears my scent.

	The stallions are neighing, like a murmuring crowd appreciating
a good movie scene.  I hear their heavy footsteps.  They smell
the sex in the air.  A heavy slapping noise begins, sounding
like great slabs of meat being whammed together -- five, ten,
twenty hard stallion cocks smacking against bellies.

	I say, "Kneel."

	He sinks to his knees in the piss.  I stride forward, my rod
bobbing.  It's so heavy and bloated with lust that I feel like
I've got a third arm attached to me.  

	His lips, very very dry, part slowly as my cock approaches. 
His tongue lolls out.  I put my cock in his mouth, sliding the
hot cheesy head over his tongue.  His lips stretch thin.

	It's easy to empty my bladder into him.  He can't handle the
initial spray -- a blast of piss explodes into my crotch.  But
he gets the rest.  His Adam's apple bobs as he drinks.

	The reek of piss is an erotic drug.  I fuck his throat for a
few seconds as I pee -- not very deep thrusts, because he gags
too much on my long dong.  Then I pull out, spit dripping in
thick ropes from my cock, and drench his face with the last of
it.

	"Stay here."  I get my sheathed Bowie knife from the peg from
which it hangs.  He drops down onto his hands and knees in my
piss.  I draw the knife.  Brilliant stars of sunlight glitter on
its keen edge.  

	We grin when we see the blade.  

	I kneel between his spread knees.   Swiftly I cut a slit in his
jeans, starting just below his belt and stopping just short of
his balls.

	He trusts me.  I'm his mate.

	I pull the ragged edges of the Levi's apart.  I slip my fingers
between his sweaty and pissy cheeks and prod at the tight pucker
there.  It's wet.  I pull my hands from his ass and sniff. 
Piss, sweat and asshole.  The aromas fill my nostrils.

	This man wants to be bred.  This horseboy wants to breed him.

	I throw the knife aside, mount him.  I shove my erection
between his cheeks.  Feeling my shaft, he moans.  

	I spear him.  None of this slip in a few inches and wait
garbage.  I sink my shaft in to the hilt, one smooth ride.  The
hotness that engulfs my cock is better than any heaven dreamt up
in any religion.  I drive into him.  My big hairless balls slap
hard against his; sharp jolts of pain explode in my crotch.

	I yank it out.  My cock glistens with mucus.  His asshole
stretches like a rubber glove over the big head.  It's hot to
look at, but it's hotter still inside of Forest.  So I slam it
forward.

	"Easy, easy ... " he says.

	But I can't be easy when the fucking's this good.  I start
screwing him hard.  The sweaty rhythm, back and forth. 
Animalistic, pounding.  Muscles bleed through my thighs and ass
as I fuck him.  Shockwaves travel up his tanned body.  I grip
him by the hips and ride him.

	My cockhead churns inside of him.  He's squirming, adjusting
himself, taking me.  His chest heaves.  My thighs beat against
his ass.

	The stallions circle us as we fuck, watching us.  Their
gigantic cocks are like a shoal of sharks hunting for prey. 
They whinny and snort.

	So do I.  I ram Forest repeatedly.  Mucus flies from his
asshole, splatters the floor.  I bend down, bite him on the
neck, then rear up and toss my hair.  My hips churn.  They're a
blur.  Fuck him fuck him.  Who needs more than this?  Who would
not want to ram their cock up a hot man's ass?  Is there
anything better than fucking a man?

	"Oh Christ," Forest moans.

	"Don't cum," I spit.

	He moans again.  His asshole clamps round the root of my dick. 
I drill my cock against his prostate, torturing him.  His head
jerks up (I know his eyes are clenched shut), his muscles
vibrate.  

	I don't last much longer.  Sperm rips up out of my balls, flows
through my pipes, and spews into him like an uncapped oil well. 
The tide of semen pulses in my piss tube.  I hose him with a
different fluid.  I feel his colon bloat around the load I fuck
into him.  He can't take it all; it backflushes and starts
exploding out of his ass with the sound of wet farts.  What so
proudly I sperm, I think, rewriting anthems in my head.

	We're both breathing hard, sweating.  I've bred him
magnificently.  I slip my cock out of him.  A tide of gray cum
slurps from his hole.  I pull out, stand.

	He yanks the remnants of his Levi's off.  Forest's erection is
rampant.  He rolls over. Precum runs over his cock.  Thick,
gooey sperm rolls down his thighs.  He's grinning.  He stinks of
me.

	I grin back.  A rope of precum hangs from the head of my cock. 
Breaking free, it slimes his belly.  I step across him, straddle
him, then sit.  My ass presses against his erection.  His cock
slips between my cheeks.  "Your turn."  I slide forward and back
on his prick, feeling like a boy riding a banister.  

	This transition is always so easy for us.  Natural.

	Forest's hands reach back and feel my round ass.  I bend
forward, still rubbing, and kiss him.  I suck his tongue into my
mouth.  His hand traces my crack, moseys its way along down to
my soft, moist pucker.

	He presses two fingers against my hole.  They're slick, and
slip inside of me easily.  Like missiles seeking a target, they
dart to my prostate.  I arch my back, moan.

	I'm in heat.  And this man knows how I like to be bred.

	Forest lifts me from his crotch, pulling his fingers free of my
sucking ass.  He sets me down into the cooling piss, stands,
then picks me up.  He cups my cheeks.  I spread my legs.  Three
fingers slip inside of me this time.  As I open my mouth to
moan, he presses my lips against his.  I kiss him as lustily as
I would kiss my father.

	He carries me to a bale of hay.  The stallions are in a frenzy.
 It's scary.  They wheel and dance around us.  Nostrils flare,
teeth are shown.  They're not keeping their distance.  Hooves
sound like thunder on the wooden floor.  We're in the middle of
a hurricane of horses.  The air is rich with their odor.  Their
balls are obscenely bloated, their vast cocks are like flagpoles
protruding between their powerful hind legs.  Manes and tails
are tossed.

	Forest puts me down on my hands and knees onto the bale.  How
whorish I feel.  My cock is thick and rubbery.  I curl my
fingers under the rope binding the hay.  I arch my back
downwards, opening my crack and showing Forest my asshole.

	His tongue probes me.  I whimper as it flails at me down there.
 It's huge and cool, as if it were a gigantic slab of meat.  My
asshole puffs out.  He slips his tongue in.  His moans vibrate
in my intestines; mine rebound off the stable walls.  I rock and
grind my ass on his face, clamping my cheeks together.  I've
yearned for the pleasure of someone being in that spot since I
was a boy.

	He pulls back.  "You smell like a mare in heat," he says,
breath hot in my crack.

	"Colt," I correct.  "A colt."

	His fingers pinch my nipples into turrets of flame.  His tongue
plunges into my asshole.  I twist like a barbecue, revolving my
asshole on his tongue.

	He pulls away.  His spit slides down the underside of my balls.
 My nipples feel like pebbles.  I know what's coming.  I cross
my arms, rest my head on my forearms.  My ass is spread wide for
him.  I'm shaved there, too.  

	The stallions, like males at a porno flick, are gathered round
and are watching, trying to fade into the fantasy unfolding
before them.  Their huge cocks are peeing precum, their balls
are vibrating, their breathing is explosive and deep.

	Now my prick is big and hard.  My big cockhead is sliding
against my navel.  My balls boil with seed again.

	I want him in me.

	His cock probes my twitching hole.  The contact is a relief. 
His hands seize my hips, fingers digging into my flesh.  My
asshole gapes open as he pushes it in.  His cock makes my
asshole into Mammoth Cave.  It tunnels in.  His pelvic bone
slams against my ass.  His cockhead burns like a hot star within
me, but still my ass wants more.

	My dick twitches.  I spurt a dollop of piss, soaking the bale. 
His thickness scrapes my prostate, presses against my bladder. 
His arms enfold me.  I'm a colt joined to a stallion

	He withdraws.  Down my chute it slithers.  His rod strokes me. 
It stirs the memories of all the other fucks we've had together.
 My ass strains to shit out the huge head.  But Forest won't
leave my ass that easily.  He shoves it back in.  Air farts from
my hole.

	He breeds me.  I moan.

	The cock churns in me and I skewer myself on it.  Rock and
roll.  His strokes get longer and longer; soon he's yanking the
whole thing from me, then plunging in like a cavalry charge.  He
fucks me like a man.  

	Pleasure explodes in me, travels in shockwaves through my body.
 His groin slaps against my upturned ass.  I lift off my
forearms, shove my ass back against Forest.  His pubic hairs
grind on me like steel wool.  

	He nails my prostate.  I screech.  He's standing upright behind
him, his hips a blur as he dicks me, stirring the drink of lust.

	Fingers clamp on my nipples.  I can't stand it anymore.  I
explode.  The orgasm originates deep within my asshole, explodes
out of me by way of my balls.  No hand touches me; only this man
can make me cum by fucking me.  The white hot fluid again
courses through my body; I buck like a colt being broken.  I
fire my load, curse, spit.

	As my load dribbles away, I feel a jolt of electricity shoot up
my colon.  He grips my hips, slams in to the uttermost depths,
writhes and bucks and curses.  It feels like he's shooting
hydrochloric acid up my ass.  It burns.  The fire licks the back
side of my bladder; helplessly I piss in the hay, dissolving the
ropes of my cum with my pee.

	I collapse forward onto the bale.  He falls beside me.  We pant
in the heat.  His hand gently rests on my ass.  Cum bubbles
between my cheeks.

	A shadow obliterates the sun.  We turn.

	A huge stallion rears above us.  He's black -- black eyes,
mane, fetlocks -- save for his prick, which is a deep brick red.
 

	His forefeet strike the sides of the stables above us.  Wood
splinters.  His prick rages.  Babe Ruth's bats weren't as big as
that cock.

	His balls contract madly.  In slow motion I watch his pisshole
gape.

	The initial blast of horse-jism is an inch thick and splatters
against the wall like a jet of molten silver.  It splatters over
us.  My skin burns where it touches.  More jism erupts, a hot
fount of equine lava spraying with the force of a stud racehorse
pissing.

	We both turn face up as that huge beast fires his offering. 
Creamy ropes of stallion juice coat us.  

	When he finishes, the other stallions begin.  Legs lift, pricks
take aim.  A herd of stallion balls contracts.  Jism rains,
falling like liquid fire.  Gigantic cocks pulse, shoot, coat us.

	I open my mouth, catch the offering, eat it.  Testosterone.  My
stomach bloats on stallion sperm.

	I look over at Forest.  His lips are parted and are coated with
horse juice the color of Vaseline.  I grin.  "Good show, huh?"

	He winces as a jagged line of jism lands on his face, then
laughs.  "Fuck yeah.  You know, since you came, my studs're
showing a lot less interest in the brood mares I own."

	There is the thunder of hooves as the true studs race off to
pasture.

The End.