Adventures of an Ambush Predator

You know, I’d initially tried to tell myself that sitting in this tree outside of that pink-maned yellow mare’s cottage at the edge of the forest was related in some way to checking up on her, see if she was doing okay. Being a good Samaritan or something.

That probably would have held water if I hadn’t been specifically sitting outside her bedroom window and if I hadn’t gotten hear before sunset and then been waiting over an hour. I was bred for waiting for what I wanted when necessary, though, so I had gotten perfectly comfortable nestled in some branches and contented myself with watching other wildlife wander around her property before she finally came upstairs and took out a book to read.

Being a gryphon, I prefer my own kind, but I have to admit that mare was damn nice to look at. I was perfectly content with doing that for a while, but luckily I was only waiting about fifteen minutes before I could see her pussy twitch between her thighs, and a drop of moisture slip free and run down one of her lips, rolling toward the side she was lying on while reading her book.

Obviously a good book.

All my waiting paid off as she put the book aside, rolled onto her belly, and squished her hoof back past her teats to rub at her pussy. Anyone else who was watching might have thought something was off about her parts but not been able to put a finger on it, but I knew exactly what was happening as she pressed the tip of her hoof down into her hood and it mushed straight in without the slightest resistance. I stared raptly as she kept rubbing where her favorite night-time plaything used to be, eyes squinted shut and a dark blush on her face visible to me even at a distance. Something told me that after the blush I had seen on her face when I ate her clitoris right in front of her, that that mental image was in her head too, and it was obviously getting her pretty damn wet.

As I kept watching, I could see the muscle twitches that would be forcing her glans out if it or the shaft behind it were still there, and while there was nothing to part her lips, she was still squirting small spurts of fluid out from between her closed, fat pussy lips and onto the bed behind her. Her rubbing got faster but where you might have expected to see clenching or twitching as she approached orgasm, she simply lay there panting and rubbing with no visible change. Finally, she stopped, flopping completely limp on the bed, some tears running down her face but a slight smile on her face at the same time, and the blush still showing true.

With the entire organ gone, even if she had sex with a stallion she was missing the nerve endings that would let her orgasm. It would probably feel pleasant and get her really excited, but the climax would never come. Stuff like this used to make me feel guilty, but after this many years of indulging my secret habit, getting to watch a show like this just turned me on. As I could see her breathing slow like she was about to fall asleep, I made my exit, the show playing on repeat in my head.