Boys Just Want to Have Fun...
“Are you sure?” Leech teased, dangling a chastity cage before the slender stallion. “I even got you one that’ll match your skiiiiiiiiirt!”
“Nope, that’s a hard pass from me!” Left groused, turning his nose up at the offer. “I really don’t see why you’d ever wear one. Like, what’s the point in giving yourself a cock if you’re just going to lock it up?”
“Because,” Leech purred, lifting the front of his painfully short micro-skirt, “having a stallionhood and being denied the use of it makes it so much hotter.” Taking a wide stance and waggling his hips, his little caged prick jiggled back and forth in the cool air.
Having run into Left the day before, who just happened to be passing through town, Leech had been beside herself. She hadn’t seen the little stud-muffin in at least a year and, true to form, she’d offered to bring him out for a drink. The afternoon had been pleasant, with the two catching up on events and just shooting the shit, although things eventually took an interesting turn.
Left’s train had been delayed, leaving him stranded for another two days while the locomotive was repaired. Without any other friends or family in town, nor anything particularly captivating to do, Leech proposed a night out. She hadn’t gone into specifics on her plan, only promising to return that evening to his hotel room, although he wasn’t that bothered. Even though they only saw each other every couple of months, they’d been good buddies for ages and she’d never done anything to wrong him.
Downing her drink and bidding her farewell, she waved goodbye and temporarily departed. Hiking back through the city and to her pad, she put her hastily laid plans into action. Her first step was to snatch up a pair of the sluttiest outfits she had, which was easy enough. Once she’d secured the somewhat suspect garments, she borrowed two femboy potions from the shop. Lastly, she stopped at an adult novelty store to buy a duo of chastity cages.
As simple and bizarre as it sounded, going out and being fucked silly as a svelte, effeminate stallion would be a perfect way to spend the evening; it was cheap, relatively easy to pull off, and she just loved giving herself a prostate to be battered into submission. Having a pussy was fun as hell, but being emasculated and dicked down hard as a femcolt was a rare treat.
She knew Left wouldn’t mind, even though he wasn’t by any means gay - at least, not in the conventional sense. As far as she could tell, the well-built stallion fell into the hetero-flexible category. He had a marefriend, sure, although he wasn’t opposed to being plowed by a dickmare or stallion under the proper circumstances. Fortunately for Leech, she knew just the thing to get him in the mood.
Appearing at his hotel room, just after sunset, she’d presented her idea and the clothing she’d gathered for him. From the moment she started talking about big, well hung studsrutting their brains out, while they were a pair of svelte little twinks, she knew she had him on the hook. His blush, the way he started tripping over his words, how pants started to tent - it was all too easy.
Following an extraordinarily brief, one sided discussion, Left agreed to the offer and they made ready. The elixir Leech brought reduced them both to slender, somewhat bottom heavy femboys in a matter of moments. Plump thighs, generous behinds, cute packages, deliciously flat chests, and delightfully marish features were granted to each of them, leaving them cute enough to make even the most stalwart stallion question their heterosexuality. New look aside, the process of the transformation was exceptionally pleasurable.
Given the properties of the potion, it was custom tailored to impart blissful sensation when used. Groaning and writhing about, leaking pre-cum from their tiny colthoods, their bodies were changed. Besides growing a particularly tiny dick and losing her tits, Leech got a bit more jiggle to her rump. Left lost a bit of his height and tone, although he was still slightly more built than his friend. With their bodies prepared and skimpy attire adorned, they paraded themselves out and hit the streets.
Leech had chosen to dress himself in fishnet leggings, matching sleeves, an extraordinarily small tube top, and a micro skirt. Every piece of his ensemble was ruby red, including an oversized bow he’d affixed to his mane, which contrasted exceptionally well against his black coat and white mane. The only piece that didn’t match perfectly was the plastic confines around his dicklett, although that wasn’t his fault.
Left’s outfit was a bit simpler and just a touch more revealing. Lacking any sort of top, the feminine stallion wore a lime green frilled skirt and leggings. He had to give Leech credit, the clothing suited his coloration perfectly. Against his azure and cerulean coat, along with his fiery mane and tail, the garments worked wonderfully! Even if the outfit hadn’t been as nice as it was, he was sure people would be drawn to his other assets.
At a glance, either of the stallions could be mistaken for female. Their diminished size and enhanced features, while profoundly captivating, didn’t mean they looked exactly the same. Leech was taller and had slightly more gentle curves; Left, on the other hand, was markedly vertically challenged and maintained a bit of his muscle tone.
While the potion didn’t leave him looking quite as marish as Leech, his rump was leagues larger than his friend’s. He’d always been rather gifted in the derriere department, but the elixir had magnified his thighs and tush to the nth degree. Embellished by the heels he wore, his backside was a thing of beauty - still, despite ending up remarkably attractive, he lacked his companion’s confidence in the slatternly matter.
Once dressed and as prepared as they were going to be, given their somewhat dubious intentions, Leech pulled her friend out of the hotel and towards the road. They weren’t too far from the downtown district, so they decided to set out on foot. With the sun dipping over the horizon and the street lights only just beginning to flick on, they made their way through the cool evening air.
“So, Leech, where are we going again?” he asked, glancing around at the shuttered shops and apartment buildings. It definitely didn’t look like the hopping and energetic downtown scene of any place he’d visited before, although he wasn’t familiar with the area.
“You know, wherever,” Leech nonchalantly hummed, rolling his shoulders. “I figure a couple of little whores like us will get picked up sooner or later,” he giggled, winking over at the sissy beside him.
Grinding to a halt, Left’s mouth hung open. “You’re kidding me, right?”
“About what?” Leech countered, stopping and turning to face his friend. “The whore part or the getting picked up part?”
“Both! Either!” Left bleated, petulantly stamping a heel to the sidewalk. “Do you seriously think anyone would just stop and pick up a couple of tramps like-”
“Damn - well ain’t you a fine piece of ass,” a deep voice chuckled, cutting him off.
Before Left could react, a strong hand clapped his ass. The sting caught him totally off guard, causing him to yelp in surprise. Awkwardly stepping forward, doing his best to keep his balance in the stilettos, he wheeled around to face his transgressor. Finding himself facing a trio of large, well built, and somewhat imposing zebra stallions, his mouth went dry, while his friend’s began to water.
“Well, well, well...Just look at you three,” Leech cooed. Without missing a beat, he sauntered over and squared off against the stud who’d smacked his somewhat reserved company’s tush. “You fine gentlemen looking for a good time or are you just cruising around harassing innocent little girls like us tonight?”
“Depends on what you bitches consider a good time,” the stallion snickered, smirking over at his friends. “Name’s Jam,” he continued, before nodding to his left and right, “that’s Iba and he’s Hasa.”
“Can’t say I’m a bitch,” Leech giggled, flipping his skirt and revealing his chastened state, “but that doesn’t mean you can’t make me bleat like one.”
“You little pony fags, I swear,” Jam chuckled, slipping one hand into the front of his pants, “always thirsty for some big zebra dick.”
“Three of you, two of us,” the little black sissy giggled, walking his fingers up Jam’s abs and to his chest. “What are we gonna do about that?”
Left could hardly believe his eyes. At the drop of a hat, they’d been approached by not one, not two, but three chiseled, striped hunks who seemed more than a little eager to get some action. Trotting to Leech’s side, unable to tear his eyes away from the growing bulge inside Iba’s shorts, he swallowed hard. Judging from the swell in the stallion’s trunks, the brawny zebra was packing some hefty equipment.
“Eyes are up here, toots,” a sonorous voice intoned, causing Left to peer upward.
From behind a mass of striated dreadlocks, a vermilion eye peeked down at him. The look, paired with the wolfish grin on the stud’s face, damn near caused him to swoon. Smiling sheepishly and offering a coy wave, Left stepped behind his friend. Even if things were off to a good start, they were moving at a record pace and he wasn’t sure if he was ready.
“Come on, don’t be shy,” Iba purred, beckoning the timid sissy over.
“Tell you boys what,” Leech intervened. Cocking a hip and pulling Left to his side, he sensually ran a hand down the svelte stallion’s chest, over his abs, and to his barely concealed loins. “Hundred bits and we’ll drain every drop of that hot, virile seed out of each of you little beefcakes. Actually, no...” he caught himself, wheeling his companion around, “fifty bits - that is, if you spit-roast my buddy while I get my colt pussy bred.”
“Deal,” Jam grunted, effortlessly scooping Leech onto his shoulder. “Come on, guys, let’s show these little sluts a good time.”
Without another word, Left found himself being led into an alleyway. Flanked by Iba and Hasa, looking up to Leech’s grinning face, he wished he was as exuberant as his friend. Traversing the narrow, dimly lit backstreet, the group only stopped when they reached a dead-end. Surrounded on three sides by buildings, with a large dumpster obscuring the way out, the spot wasn’t exactly romantic - then again, neither was what they were about to do.
Anxiously looking around, trying to figure out who would be doing what, a loud slurping crept to his ears. Quick to take the lead, Leech had sunk down and begun rather enthusiastically blowing Jam. As the zebra stood with his back against a wall, watching the markedly smaller pony hungrily slurp and worship his stallionhood, the little sissy fingered his ass.
“You gonna get started or what?” Iba grumbled.
“Yeah I’m…” Left trailed off, as he turned towards the pair of striped studs behind him.
Standing shoulder to shoulder, the duo had unzipped their pants and presented their semi-rigid equipment. Just the sight of those two glorious, ebony rods was enough to make Left’s heart skip a beat. Nearly as long as his forearm, as thick as his wrist, and covered in onyx flesh, they were simply beautiful. Though he may have seen larger cocks on film or in pictures, he’d never been so close to one that big in person.
Even before he’d taken the femboy potion, the two would have put his stallionhood to shame - now, after having lost most of his size and endowment, he looked downright pitiful. Glancing down, seeing his erection tenting the front of his skirt, it was clear that some part of him enjoyed the demeaning thought. With a heavy sigh, he found himself staring at twin obsidian members before him.
“Your friend has the right idea,” Hasa remarked, nodding in Jam’s direction. “Locked up, choking himself on dick, and even fingering his pussy like a little broodmare.”
“Yeah, that’s a real faggot,” Iba laughed, watching the show unfold.
Steeling himself, Left shuffled forward and squatted down before them. Despite how anxious he felt, he couldn’t bring himself to be outdone - especially not after that last comment. Leech wasn’t even a natural guy, so the thought of him being a superior faggot struck a nerve. As he reached up and gently fondled their packages, he couldn’t help but wonder just how much cum their ripe, succulent nuts could produce.
Iba smiled, apparently pleased with the attention, although he clearly wasn’t pleased enough. Grabbing the base of his length, he slapped his tool against Left’s cheek. Stepping over, bringing his waist to the opposite side of the pony’s face, Hasa mirrored his friend’s actions. Accosted on both sides, with his pitiable stallionhood peeking from between his legs, the sissy split his concentration.
Gently stroking Hasa’s dick with one hand, he angled Iba’s shaft towards his mouth. Straight away, the aroma hit him like a brick wall. Sweet, merciful Celestia - the masculine scent was downright ambrosial. Drawn in, dragging his tongue over the blunt tip of zebra meat, he popped the tip past his lips. The girthy shaft slowly crept into his muzzle, as he slowly started bobbing his head.
“God damn,” Hasa hummed, completely ignoring the he-bitch’s efforts.
Peeking over his shoulder, Left’s eyes went wide. Leech rested in a deep squat, literally choking himself while fervently pulling at Jam’s hips; with over a foot of cock down his throat, his lips mopped the prodigious tool swabbing his gullet. It was a damn impressive sight and left him feeling more inadequate as ever. Drawing a deep breath and peering up at Iba, he rammed his head forward.
Gliding over his tongue and delving into his esophagus, he did what he could to fellate the stallion. Alas, despite his enthusiasm, his efforts were found lacking. As the thick medial ring pressed against his lips, his progress ground to a halt. His eyes watered, his throat spasmed, and he was sure he would have gagged - that was, if he could have breathed at all.
“Yeah, fuck this, I’m gonna go plow the black one’s ass,” Hasa muttered, shifting course and plodding away.
The withdrawal sparked a fierce determination in Left, spurring him to withdraw. Rearing back, hauling the stallionhood from past his lips, he reached out and grabbed the retreating zebra’s wrist. “W...wait, you can - Cough - fuck my ass.”
“If that mouth of yours ain’t half as good as your friend’s, what makes you think your ass is any better?” Hasa jeered, wrenching his arm free.
Left stood, turned, and bent forward at the waist. With his ample backside leveled at Hasa, he gazed back at the questioning hunk. “Just look at it! It’s nearly twice as big as his and it’s way less broken in than that whore’s!”
“Fuck you! My ass ain’t - Glk?!?” Leech’s protest was cut woefully short, when Jam’s cock was forcefully driven back down his gullet.
“If you don’t, I will,” Iba growled, moving towards the presented backside.
“Screw that, that’s my bitch hole,” Hasa snarled. Grabbing his claim’s hips, he surveyed the area. “Grab me that crate over there.”
Iba piqued a brow and glanced over at the large, wooden box. “Why?”
“Just get the damn thing!” the zebra insisted. Spinning Left around, looking him dead in the eye, he flashed a toothy smile. “I wanna see this bitch’s face when I break that ass in.”
Left gulped, his pupils shrank to pinpricks, and pre-cum oozed from his rigid prick. The stud’s hands wandered over his back and chest, only pausing to tweak his nipple. All the while, he kept his eyes glued on the hunk’s face. Stars above, he hadn’t been this worked up in ages!
He’d heard tales that zebras were domineering and forceful, although he’d never been lucky enough to experience it himself; now, held firmly by one of the three striped stallions, he wished he’d gone to see if the rumors were true sooner. Feeling weak in the knees, without any warning whatsoever, he was pushed back and landed on something roughly waist level.
“Spread them legs, bitch,” Iba grunted, unbuttoning his pants and letting them fall to the ground.
The small pony instantly obliged, splaying his legs and giving the hunk unfettered access to his taut, winking pucker. Moving forward and grabbing his titanic cock, the stallion stepped between his thighs. Looking down his chest, past his boner, he gnawed his lip. He could still get away, hop off the crate and make a break for it, but that was the last thing he wanted to do.
Giving his backdoor a prod, sending a shiver up the sissy’s spine, Iba plunged in. Despite the snugness and lack of foreplay, the brute strength of his thrust could not be denied. Left gasped, as his insides were slowly rearranged. Not only was Iba bigger than anyone or anything he’d ever had inside his ass, but his shrunken state made the endeavor even more intense than it naturally would have been. Clutching at the box, holding on for dear life, he did his damnedest not to clench.
“Here,” Hasa interjected, looming over and flopping his dick onto the steadily penetrated pony face, “this should help…”
Compelled, with yet more of the heady musk flooding his sinuses, Left reclined his head and opened his maw. The invitation didn’t go unnoticed, as the stud above him rocked back, got into position, and crammed his stallionhood into the sissy’s muzzle. Like his companion, he was without grace or subtleness - instead brutishly making use of his effeminate mate to sate his bestial urges.
Passing the halfway point, with his medial ring kissing the pony’s stuffed entrance, Iba began to move. Left couldn’t tell if the stallion was taking it easy on him or simply relishing his snug interior, although he was inclined to believe the latter - regardless, the rutting was awe inspiring. Hasa quickly followed suit and joined his friend, making use of his throat and snout. Taking air when he could, gagging lightly around the meaty pole, his body was rocked back and forth between the beefy duo.
Closing his eyes, he fixated on the moment. There he was, laying atop a crate in an alley, being plowed by two zebras. Just the thought alone of something so taboo was nearly enough to get him off, let alone being a carnal outlet for the pair of studs. Reaching for his groin, subconsciously yearning to get himself off, his wrist was firmly seized.
“No touching, faggot. If you’re gonna get off, you’re gonna cum like the bitch you are,” Hasa cruelly laughed, pinning the sissy’s arms to his sides. “Just look at your friend there, he knows how it’s done.”
Glancing sidelong, while his gullet was plowed, Left looked over to see what the stallion was talking about. Though he shouldn’t have been surprised, the sight of his femcolt companion only added to his arousal. Though the white maned twink was being screwed by a zebra as large or possibly larger than Hasa or Iba, he seemed to be having the time of his life.
Standing on a milk crate, with one hand on Jam’s hip to steady himself, Leech pushed back to meet the zebra’s thrusts. His ridiculously small top was tugged up, exposing his deliciously flat chest and allowing him to feverishly tweak and pinch one dark nipple. The expression on the sissy’s face was entrancing enough, but it didn’t hold a candle to the imprint of Jam’s pistoning stallionhood in his gut.
“H...harder, Daddy! Fuck my little colt pussy and make me cum like a real mare,” Leech whorishly groaned.
Writhing in place, he reached up, craned his neck, and pulled the zebra into a passionate kiss. HIs other hand drifted downward and came to rest on the bulge appearing and disappearing within his abdomen. Swaying and bobbing at his groin, dribbling pre-cum do the concrete below, his imprisoned dicklett went untouched.
“Let’s give them a show,” Leech cooed, glancing in the trio’s direction. “Show them how it’s really done.”
Jam simply grunted and leaned forward, before grabbing hold of the pony’s legs. Keeping his cock entombed within the sissy’s ass, in a herculean show of strength, he lifted his pint-sized partner into the air. In what could only be described as some depraved parody of a full nelson, the hulking, striped hunk slipped his arms under Leech’s knees and immobilized him entirely.
“Oh my gawd,” the chastened sissy wheezed, as the zebra started fucking him with renewed vigor. The shift in position gave the onlookers an unfettered view of his filled backside and caused his caged prick to bounce about even more wildly, although he didn’t seem to mind. “Don’t stop! Don’t ever stop!”
As badly as Left would have loved to watch the show, he had bigger issues to deal with. Possibly inspired by their companion, his partners took to rutting him harder and faster than before. Even though his legs and arms were held firm, he wasn’t completely helpless. Getting the timing down, he bucked his hips and rhythmically clenched around Iba’s cock. His tongue lavished Hasa’s shaft, while his lips stroked and massaged the rigid length of zebra dick.
Though he may not have been quite as experienced as Leech in the whoring department, he wasn’t about to throw in the towel. Groaning when he could, hoping to please his brutish mates, he screwed his eyes shut. As the tool in his snout plunged deeper and deeper, the warm, soft impacts of nuts against his face told him he’d nearly managed to throat all of Hasa.
“Girl’s leakin’ like a faucet,” Iba joked, relentlessly plowing the shrunken stallion’s behind. “Bet he won’t even need that little clit touched to cum.”
As nonsensical as the idea was, the zebra was right. Without so much as having laid a finger on himself, Left knew he wasn’t going to be able to last for long. Perhaps by coincidence, his body’s yearning for more, or sheer dumb luck, it was at that moment the fat root of Iba’s stallionhood bored into him. His pucker painfully stretched around the monstrous cock, as his prostate was demolished.
The delicate organ, deep within his rump, was absolutely brutalized by the stud’s fat medial ring. Pummeled with each thrust, the pleasurable button just inside his backdoor sent shock-waves of pleasure surging through his frame. He still couldn’t see much, besides the pendulous nuts smacking his face, but that didn’t matter. He wanted - no, needed more…
“A...angle - Oh fuck - angle your hips up,” Leech insisted, seemingly hellbent on watching his friend blow a hands-free load.
Effectively blind, Left definitely felt Iba’s not so subtle shift. His attempts to reciprocate the vehement fucking withered entirely, as the blissful sensations magnified beyond comprehension. Unlike when he was using his stallionhood, the feeling was singular and bordered on the insidious. It was almost as if a pressure was welling within him, threatening to overtake his sanity, while he was fucked with increasing force. With no chance of escape, he welcomed his impending release with open arms.
Stronger and stronger the sensation grew, until it blinded out his existence. He’d be lying if he claimed it wasn’t slightly unsettling, although the primal thrill of being used by two superior males far surpassed his own reservations. Fitfully humping and gyrating away, driven mad with lust, he was granted his wish.
Sputtering and coughing around Hasa’s length, Left came with disastrous force. His back arched, his limbs trembled uncontrollably, and his esophagus spasmed; it was like suffering through several climaxes at once, so undeniable was the rapture which assaulted him. Writhing in place, with his pucker and throat clenching around his mates, the unthinkable happened - Iba and Hasa unloaded into him.
It wasn’t like he could tell who came first - then again, it really didn’t matter. A torrent of fertile spunk surged into his ass and a tsunami of seed flowed down his gullet, while the two bulls claimed him. The influx of heat, the additional strain on his interior, and the sound of their savage grunting was enough to force his ecstasy to redouble. Choking, acting as an outlet for the pair’s sexual wants, he was filled with pints of cream.
Mercifully, dancing the fine line of blacking out, Left’s airway was cleared. Coughing weakly, when the stallion over him cleared his gullet, he hauled air into his lungs. The final scalding strands of Hasa’s spunk spattered over his face and chest, further marking him as a claimed bitch. Iba stayed buried in his tush, fitfully humping and depositing every drop of precious seed.
“You see that shit? The faggot didn’t even have a boner when he came!” one of the two laughed.
Lifting his head and wearily looking down his chest, Left looked to see what the stallion had met. To his dismay, the view of his groin was obscured by his rather bloated belly. Ballooned obscenely, appearing as though he’d just gorged himself at an all you can eat buffet, his abdomen was absolutely brimming with spunk. Staring in shock at his bloated gut, he failed to notice someone walking to his side.
“Mmmmmm...Fuck that’s hot,” Leech sighed, sashaying over to caress his friend’s shoulder.
The fact that Leech could speak, let alone walk, was enough to draw Left’s attention away. Glancing over at his fellow sissy, his jaw hung open. The lithe femcolt had become markedly more curvy, almost appearing as if he was heavy with foal. It was a strange, albeit profoundly hot sight and one which left him in awe.
“Don’t worry,” Leech giggled, stepping back and caressing Jam’s side, “I’m gonna make sure he pays child support.”
“Fucking bitches, I swear,” Jam grunted, securing his belt and stomping away. “You guys done yet? I’m hungry.”
Iba and Hasa looked to him, shrugged, and began preparing to depart. Using Left’s skirt as a cloth, they wiped themselves clean of any errant cum. They’d gotten their rocks off and that was apparently all they cared about. Unfortunately for them, they weren’t about to make a clean getaway.
“Where’s my fifty bits?!” Leech blared, knitting his brow at the fleeing trio.
“Right here,” Jam laughed, flipping the bird without looking back. “After that piss poor performance, you should be lucky we’re not making you pay us.”
“Whatever, prick! I know you’ll come looking for this sweet pussy again soon, since it’s better than your marefriends!” the chastened sissy goaded, spinning around and smacking his spunk leaking ass.
Chuckling to themselves, the three zebras made a hard right and disappeared from view. Left and Leech were left in the small alleyway, alone, covered in and filled with a rather impressive amount of jizz. While it wasn’t exactly an ideal situation, one of them had the situation well in hand.
“Here,” Leech said, handing his friend a handkerchief. “There’s a bathhouse about two blocks from here. Once you wipe yourself off, we can go get cleaned up and grab a drink or two.”
Wiping his face, Left quirked an eyebrow. He didn’t remember his friend carrying the bit of cloth, which raised a few questions. “Where did you -”
“Stole it from Jam,” Leech seamlessly intervened, before producing a trio of wallets from behind his back. “Just like I stole these.”
“Leech! You can’t just steal shit from ponies!” Left muttered, trying to keep his voice low.
Supremely pleased with himself, Leech smirked. “You know what they say! If you - Burp” whatever words of wisdom he’d been about to impart were lost, when he spontaneously and rather raucously belched. “Fuck me - I’m gonna be tasting cum for a week.”
“Better there than the other end,” Left chuckled, awkwardly easing himself off the crate.
“Don’t fucking jinx it,” Leech guffawed. Speedily removing all the cash and coin from the wallets, he chucked the emptied items to the ground. “Actually, you just want to get some hooch and pizza? We could go back to the hotel and I could suck your dick or something.”
Inspecting his friend, Left tried and failed to determine if Leech was serious or not. Even after having been well and thoroughly plowed, the little hussy was still down for some action - still, getting a blowjob was an enticing offer. After thinking for a second, he shrugged and smiled. “Sure, why not.”
“I knew you wouldn’t turn down head from a dude!” Leech conspiratorially hissed, elbowing his companion. “What a homo!”
“Says the mare who turned himself into a dude just to get fucked in the ass!” Left countered, grinning from ear to ear.
Grabbing his fellow femcolt’s hand, Leech led the way out of the alley and towards the nearby bathhouse. “I won’t tell your marefriend about this, on one condition…”
Left rolled his eyes and kept pace, doing his level best to keep his ass clenched around what felt like a gallon of spunk. “What?”
“Next time, we bring her along to watch,” Leech tittered, without breaking stride.
Despite having just had one of the most intense orgasms of his life, Left’s stallionhood twitched at the prospect. Truth be told, he’d always fantasized about inviting a bull to share a bed with himself and his marefriend. She’d turned him down several times, although that hadn’t kept him from periodically broaching the subject and hoping she’d eventually change her mind.
“You think you could convince her?” he asked.
Stopping dead in his tracks, Leech wheeled around and placed a hand on Left’s shoulder. “Honey, if anyone has a snowball’s chance in hell of talking someone into something depraved, it’s me,” he whispered, waggling his eyebrows. “Now come on, I really don’t want to leave an oil slick of nut along the sidewalk.”
Nodding to himself, Left walked along at his friend’s side. It had definitely been an interesting day and one he wouldn’t soon forget. A little tired, sticky, and with his stomach angrily gurgling and sloshing about, he was ready for some rest and relaxation. Some cold beer and hot pizza, after a well deserved shower, would be just the ticket - and he sure as heck wasn’t about to let Leech forget about that promised blowjob…
