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The sky was that perfect robin's egg blue without a cloud to be seen, and the November sun beat down like a physical force from above. I lay in a field of canola, making crop angels with my arms and legs, giggling like a little kid while the beer slid down my throat so easy. A warm North Westerly was blowing, making the sunflower heads sway in its heated wake, and I reached up to touch one and pull off the flower. I slid the flower behind one ear, and turned to my companion, managing a beery grin.

"Not long mate, especially with the Nor Westers in. Are you sure you aren't hanging around for harvest?"

I looked at the other guy beside me, his grinning face a little lopsided now as the beer took hold and he took in my features with a big sunflower dangling from my soft brown bull ear. We were wearing jeans and flannel shirts, too hot for the day but lying on the harsh stalks it was a godsend. I wished I could see more of his body though. He was beautiful. A young stallion, now eighteen like me, a standardbred cross with a beautiful strawberry roan coat. He was a little taller but a lot thinner than me, built like a distance runner. His legs always drew me, when we played footy, emerging from his shorts like two perfect red/white elastic springs made of muscle. And his rump...how many times had I imagined burying my face in those taut buns. My dick had almost fallen off from acting on that thought, late at night, alone.

That called for another pull on my beer, and a frown. Fuck, I was so fucking sick of myself these days.

"Nah Ror. I told you, some mates are hosting me for Christmas, and I want to get down to Melbourne to set everything up for uni. It is going to be awesome mate. I...ahh...I'm sorry you can't..."

I waved him away, downing my third stubby, the amber fluid washing away all my sins. It was lucky I had drunk so many, there were a few to wash away.

It was not as if my final year results could have come as a surprise. After all, I had been there, and I knew just how fucked I was. I was never a great student, even when my mind was on the job, but since Christmas last year, my mind had been treading an increasingly fucked up path. I was still everyone's mate, still the footy playing lad always up for a joke, even when I became the butt of more than a few. But inside...well, inside I was fucked. The beer was only one of the symptoms. I wanted to hurt him for it, just a little.

"You are a shit Josh. Running away and leaving me like this."

The beer had made me stupider than usual, and I said what I really thought. I could feel his anger from right beside me, washing over me like a wave of heat almost as palpable as the wind. I so desperately wanted other heated feelings from him, more so today than ever, but instead this is what I could have. I had learned to make the most of shit.

He hit me, hard enough to hurt, in the chest a few times. We were still Aussie males. Rough play, and rough banter, were the norm, especially when you crossed the line. The only good thing was you were supposed to be friends still after it.

"Fuck you Ror. You can't lay that shit on me. You would like to get out of this poxy hole as much as me if you could. I didn't fuck up your VCE, you did that, and if you remember I tried to pull you into line last March and you smacked me one. So, don't give me the whole duty speech now. You will be fine, your dad will be fine, my dad will be fine. You can help them both like we arranged, and they will get the crop in just fine before the rains without me. So, fuck off Rory. Fuck off."

He settled into his little nest in the canola again, drinking slowly with a grin on his muzzle as if what he said hadn't hurt like a fucking knife, and I looked up at the perfect blue sky and tried not to scream.

It was all well for him. He had somewhere to go, people to be around who wanted him. Like I wanted him...

No, probably not how I wanted him.

I had known who I was for a while, I guess. At least since I was fourteen and found myself staring at Josh one day at school and imagining him kissing me. I had fought it as much as I could, denied it as much as I could, pretended that the girls who chased me who I tried to bat away just weren't the right one for me. I knew I was desirable for them, even more than that. My reticence seemed to make me even more of a catch. As the town's young footy star, playing full forward amongst the seniors at sixteen, I was known by everyone. And I had a reputation as a good bloke, funny, kind, everyone's mate, even when I got on the piss. Then I was just the life of the party as well, even if they liked sharing photos of me smashed all over town.

Then came the B&S ball just before last Christmas, and after downing far too many Bundy and cokes, I had finally relented, and Tilly Stevens was the one. She was a beautiful palomino filly, with awesome breasts, a big smile, narrow waist, an ass that cried out to be kissed, and extremely willing. If I knew inside it was the fact she was an equine, like Josh, that made me choose her I let that slide. She was beautiful enough in her own right, I reasoned. Even under the influence of the booze she got me hard and pulled me into an embrace I knew I wasn't getting out of. After the best approximation of foreplay I could manage, I finally laid her down on the tray of a mate's ute, and fucked her for what felt like an age, until she finally came, eyes wide, mane a mess, and she pulled me down to her in a kiss. I knew a couple of guys saw us, and the gossip would be around the town in nanoseconds. Rory Miller finally got laid. Good calf.

Ironic, as a bull, I knew it was all bullshit, and I felt precisely nothing.

I went with her a few more times, each time more depressing than the last. It wasn't that my cock was anaesthetised, my heart was. I knew then, as sure as I could, that what I knew to be the truth was indeed the truth. I only came by thinking of my mates, especially Josh, in the showers after footy training, the water streaming over his mottled and well muscled shoulders, muscles bunching as he soaped up and shared a look with me. As he soaped his ass in my memory, I invariably shot off, my control of timing suitably impressing Til, as I managed to come just after she did with the regularity of the seasons out here in the Wimmera. She would smile, and I would smile, and I died inside by inches.

When we broke up, I told her I had hooked up with a sweet cow in Melbourne on a trip there at Easter and I really loved the city cow and we would be living together when I went to uni next year and , well, bovines sometimes needed bovines. Or something. It was the or something that made it art. Tilly cried a lot, she hit me hard enough to break my nosering, and then she tried to drown my schoolbag in the creek. She got over it though. I wouldn't; not her, but the knowledge she gave me about myself, but she didn't need to know that.

From that day my spiral began, as I began to wonder what the fuck I was doing in life, stuck in a small country town, with no fucking idea what the future might hold, and nobody like me to talk to let alone do anything with. And as if to torment me, my internal disintegration took away the last chance I had of escape when I failed my Year 12 and lost any chance of getting away easy.

My dad had just frowned, and shook his head, and used all the words I had become used to. Useless. Waste of good feed. Feckless. Selfish. I hated it because I knew he was right.

Josh had saved me, of a sort. He convinced his dad to take me on as a farmhand, buy me some time to sort my shit out away from dad, who had promised to cut off any money I hadn't worked for myself. I was grateful, of a sort. I knew his property well, we had shared so much time together. Josh and his dad were our next-door neighbors, though the two houses were about 2 kilometers apart. That was how it worked out here in the Wimmera. Things were a little different.

"Ror...you can come down to Melbourne some time. Once you have some money behind you...I'd like to see you mate. I can put you up, show you round. You would love it, hey? Might rediscover a little of the old Ror I used to know?"

I hated that he knew enough to know I was struggling, not enough to diagnose the reason without me telling him. And of course, that he never asked the why. Such was the way of the Aussie male. Never actually discuss what is going on. Fuck that, are you a pussy?

"Josh...you will be caught up with uni, and I will be busy here. Between helping out dad a bit, and working for your dad, I probably won't get to go anywhere."

"Please Ror."

I looked at him finally, and saw the words reflected in his eyes. I wondered at that. He had rarely asked me for anything, and not for a long time.

"Maybe mate. If your dad lets me off the hook. Is he a hard bastard like mine?"

That drew a grin.

"Well if you fuck up, he'll let you know."

Now I was intrigued, and a little terrified but I didn't want to ask the question. My dad had taken to using a belt on me, in the last couple of years. It didn't do anything but make me hurt inside more than out, but I knew he had had it from his dad. I couldn't bring myself to tell him to fuck off. I hoped to fuck Neil didn't do the same; some country traditions weren't all they were cracked up to be. I played it cool though.

"I am not as big a fuckup as you Josh. So no worries."

"Yeah mate, no worries."

I hated that he sounded so unconvinced. I reached for the fourth bottle, and resumed my inspection of the perfect sky, as the warm wind played over the field, and the shadows from the crop stalks played over my shirt, and the one on the colt next to me, shadows on the light blue. And I dreamed.

***

February

My employer smiled at me over the breakfast things. We always had a little conference like this, every morning at six thirty. Breakfast was a tradition out here, and it had to be big, to feed a country male for a day of work. Toast, lots of butter, porridge. The butter always sat on the kitchen table, soft and ready to spread under a porcelain cover, with the toast rack beside it. Even on this warm February day, the wood oven in the kitchen was going, just barely, but still enough to boil the kettle, and keep the kitchen feeling like a womb. I liked it here, and his smile always made me smile too.

Our kitchen at home was similar, and different. Dad had taken to using the smaller gas range running off bottled gas, and not lighting the old wooden stove. He frowned, rather than smiling now. He ate sensible cereal instead and told me I was eating too much when I wanted eggs or porridge and getting fat. I knew I had a bit of calf fat on me, but I was building a shedload of muscle too. When I looked at myself in the mirror in the bathroom, seeing how my muscles built with time, I thought he would be proud.

Maybe he hadn't noticed that. He rarely looked at me, at least in that last year where I could do nothing right.

His journey had begun, I liked to pretend to myself, five years ago when mum died of cancer. I liked to think he hadn't had the deep dark inside him before then, and that he liked me a lot more back then, before the world broke him. If I knew that he always had that streak of pain in him somehow, even before mum, and also that I was a big part of it in the last year or so, I conveniently forgot both facts when I could. I wanted to give him a pass, and by extension myself. Mum. It all came down to mum.

It had gotten so I couldn't mention her name. I had a few pictures of her in my stuff, and I had brought them here when I came for work so I could look at them without dad seeing me. I had even put a picture of her in a frame finally and put it beside my bed. I had a home again, sort of.

I liked that part of the arrangement too. There were three bedrooms in the farmhouse, one for Neil, Josh's dad, my employer. One for Josh, and he had left his stuff there wanting to be able to return in the breaks. And one for our guests.

To supplement his income, Neil had begun taking in guests for farmstays. Often city couples, wanting to experience the country, they got real food, real hospitality, and guided tours of everything. I spent a fair amount of my day as a tour guide, but I liked it. They were always nice, and polite, and none of them knew a thing about me and how shit I was. I was just the big young bull farmhand.

Because all the rooms were taken, I had been given a place of my own. Off the main shed near the farmhouse, which housed machinery and our one horse when he wasn't turned out in his paddock, an old quarterhorse called Ricky, there was a flat. It had been added to the shed back in the days when the place ran mostly sheep for wool, and they needed shearers quarters in season.

Now it had a nice big space, a comfy old bed, a couch, a bar fridge, its own bathroom, and a lot of privacy. I had set my own little place up, and at night, I could jack off three or four times in a row thinking about some hot guy while the warm breeze came in the window and tickled my nipples and the spent cum and sweat evaporated on my chest and belly.

"So Ror...what have you got on today?"

I loved that he asked me, rather than telling me. I was rapidly falling for Neil, if not as wank fodder, at least as a substitute dad. Fucking Josh had all the luck. He looked more traditional did Neil, with some Shire in him as well as standardbred, broader but shorter, he filled out his work gear pretty well though not as well as me. He had a dark chestnut coat and bay points, and though there was a little grey now in his black mane he looked young and somehow at ease most of the time. Not like my dad.

"Repairing the fence over by the Eastern border, then moving those sheep into the Western hundred, tidying up the shed, and moving some hay out to the Northern ridges. Hay won't move itself Neil."

I smiled. He grinned and forked in porridge and toast. As an equine, he was even more into oats than me. He seemed to live off them. I sipped my coffee and lay back a bit in the wooden chair beside the table, and sighed, scratching my junk through my work jeans. My body had responded to the hard work at least. I was getting even bigger almost by the day.

While Josh was the tallest in our class, I was definitely the biggest. A couple inches shorter than him at six five, I had a good fifty pounds on him. My shoulders were the proverbial axe handle across, and I knew, because I often cut the river redgum myself, walking back to the barn with the massive splitter resting on my shoulders. My hips had spread a bit too, up to size thirty-eight, but it was mostly muscle now, not calf fat. I had to get new shirts, and new jeans for work, and even then when I flexed my thighs, I could feel the fabric of my jeans begin to give way.

If only Tilly could see me now. She would probably take me back.

I laughed a little at that stupid thought, drawing a ruffle of my unruly crop of brown headfur from Neil.

"Good to see you laughing again mate. We thought we had lost that."

"I'm cool Neil, and thanks again..."

He raised a hand.

"No mate, it's all good. You are doing well, especially with the farmstays. Which reminds me..."

He had a late booking, it turned out, so my day might be cut a little short. They would be arriving at 3 this afternoon, for a couple of nights. I shrugged. More money for Neil meant more for me I reasoned. And showing city types around was a lot less demanding than hefting hay bales. I could even cook the breakfast in the morning and get all kinds of praise.

Praise. It was such a simple thing. For an eighteen-year-old male, it could be like oxygen, but sometimes as rare as oxygen on the Moon.

I was there when they arrived in a nice Audi, black and the latest model. The wife seemed to be the one in charge, a tall feline, tigress with a no-nonsense air, about thirty I thought. Her husband was the same age, but a wolf, with black and grey fur, and a compact looking body under designer clothes. He had come dressed for the country, in just the way I imagined city folks would; "country chic" courtesy of the R.M.Williams catalogue. It looked fake, though they seemed genuine enough under their fresh clothes. The guy managed a smile as I took their bags with a mumbled greeting and a big smile on my muzzle, shaking his paw and trying to remember my training from Neil by not crushing it too bad.

He looked into my eyes and I saw his , deep grey pools hard to read, and as he looked at me, I saw his smile widen, and the eyes widen too, and something on his face made me pause. Something I didn't understand.

"Thanks mate. Did you say your name was Rory?"

"Yeah, Rory. At your service; really, I'm here to help during your stay, anything you need."

He seemed to be a little taken aback for some reason, and suddenly couldn't meet my eyes. His almost sparkled.

"Thanks Rory. Thanks...a lot...I'm Gary."

I was still holding his bag, as was he, and it took him a second to let go, which drew a little cough of laughter from Neil. I couldn't imagine a guy like this wasn't used to being waited on. It didn't make sense.

They had a tour of the property that afternoon, and I showed them the Northern ridge and our main flock, and the fields ready for planting, and the equipment. The wife, Natalie, had grown up in the country and wanted to show her husband a farm. He was a total city head and had never been beyond Ballarat. His eyes took it all in like he was seeing a foreign country.

His eyes also looked at other things. I caught him looking at me a couple of times, looks I couldn't work out, and when he caught me, he smiled. I smiled back, and I found myself feeling warm.

Over dinner that night, I got to hear about his work, something to do with banking, and hers, a lawyer with a big firm in the city. They had more money than God, I assumed, and if part of me resented that, I had to be grateful they came out here to sample our hospitality. They were polite, interested, and friendly. Especially Gary.

He asked me to show him our horse tomorrow; he hadn't seen one outside a childrens' farm in the city when he was in primary school. The thought snapped my brain a little; while Ricky was nothing flash, he was a good horse, and pretty standard for the ones you found here. Most kids could ride a horse before they could ride a bike out here. I hadn't realised that would be something that could matter to a guy like Gary.

The second day of their stay was warm and bright, with the sun beating down as it did in February, and the temperature was destined to soar at least during the day, though it would get cold at night. At my morning conference with Neil, we plotted a day for our guests that avoided the worst of the heat, and hoped they got going early so we could get them into it in the morning. They were early risers these two, and by seven I was cooking up a mess of bacon and eggs, fried tomatoes from the kitchen garden, French toast, juice. I shuddered a bit at the bacon, but catering to carnivores was part of the service. It could have been worse; I didn't know what to do if they asked for steak.

At some point during breakfast, I realised Gary was looking at the food with the same look he was giving me yesterday. Hunger. Pure, naked, hunger.

I felt my cock begin to stir, and when he looked up at me, all smiles and those big grey eyes boring right into mine, he gave me a thumbs up and told me how it was the best breakfast he had had. I felt the pride from Neil beside me, but I was overwhelmed by the feelings coming off Gary. I mumbled a thanks, and cleaned up, noticing my hand shaking a little, and the hairs standing up on my forearms.

We took them out on quad bikes that morning and had lunch by the big dam over by the Western hundred, with the best views down the valley, right near the line of the creek bed and the stand of River Redgums and the dam where the old farmhouse used to be. Neil told them about the history of the property, which had been in the family for three generations like most round here, and about the trees on the property.

"The river redgums are part of our heritage. They follow the creek beds, and they provide shelter for the stock and habitat for the native animals. And when they come down in a storm, they provide the best firewood you could have. Rory here is a demon with the axe, he cuts it all for our fires, so if you enjoyed the open fire last night, you can thank his shoulders for it."

Gary looked at me, his eyes twinkling. "Thanks Rory. I'd love to see you in action if I could. I've never swung an axe in my life. Sounds like it could be an experience."

I dropped my eyes then, refusing to see what I knew to be there, but the feeling inside me was amazing. I looked over at Natalie, and realised she hadn't registered anything, looking down the valley with Neil pointing out all the features. She was in her element. Gary seemed to be finding his. I was the odd one out; all at sea.

For the afternoon, Natalie wanted to see the automated sheep management system in action with Neil, and Gary begged off. He wanted to see my legendary axe skills, and Natalie was happy not to have to drag him around the sheep pens. We had a plan, just not one I had a clue on how it was going to end.

I headed for the chopping block, behind the shed with my flat attached. I retrieved the splitter and the smaller axe from the shed and set up for a decent run with enough large pieces to make an impact. They had been cut to size with the small chainsaw, and now I got to break them down into reasonable size pieces, and some into smaller kindling with the little axe. Without thinking about it I did my usual preparations, donning gloves, and taking off my shirt to hang it from a fence post.

There was an audible intake of breath. I felt heat all over me, and it was not the North West wind. My nipples hardened a little, and I felt sweat on the palms of my hands inside the gloves. I was thankful I had them on, or the splitter might slide out.

Trying to distract myself, I made wood fly. I concentrated on the blocks of redgum, and on the axe, and not on the wolf standing ten feet away and the feel of his eyes on my body. My cock was half hard at least, but I clamped down and did my job. Enough wood for a couple of nights fires around the place at least. I would need one in my little place tonight, while I jacked off the impending tidalwave of cum in my balls.

Looking up at Gary, I saw his eyes glazed a little, and tried not to think about it too much as I took off my gloves and retrieved my shirt. I was coated in sweat, and I didn't want to put it on, so I told him I would head into my room to clean up and get a fresh one.

I hadn't counted on him following me into the shed. I reached the wooden doorway halfway to the front door of my flat, and he finally spoke.

"Rory..."

Turning, eyes adjusting to the half-light, I saw it, really saw it for the first time. Another male wanting me, his body mine to have.

I reached up and gripped the lintel, old redgum, rough and harsh. My fingerhooves dug in, ignoring the splinters, as I looked at him and he looked at me. He was shaking.

"Gary, are you ok?"

His eyes became a little sad then, but he smiled as if to counter the melancholy.

"Not really Rory. I haven't...I haven't done anything for a few years, since uni and meeting Nat, and..."

He looked into my eyes, and I caught my breath. That look.

"It's ok Gary."

"No mate, it isn't, but I'm going to do it anyway."

He stepped forward, and I felt his hand on my chest. He slid soft fingers over my right pectoral, the way over my brown coat made easy by sweat, circling my nipple, right round the edge of the big aureola the size of a fifty piece, my nipple swollen pink and pointing straight out like the end of a pen. He brushed a claw over the tip. I moaned.

"How old are you mate?"

"Eighteen."

He seemed to shudder then but didn't stop his exploration. He found the thicket of white hairs between my pecs and twirled, seemingly fascinated. I was mostly purebred Hereford, my red/brown coat giving way to patches of white. I kind of felt sensitive about them, the way people called them cute. Like Tilly. She had loved twirling them with a finger. It seemed Gary was a fan too.

"Am I like the guys you knew in uni Gary?"

"No Rory. Not at all..." I wondered if that was a good thing, less or more?

He bent forward, and I felt wolf lips on my neck, and was about to lean down to kiss when I heard noise outside. I turned and bolted, heading into my flat, and changed my shirt and tried to will my aching cock down while I listened to voices outside.

When I came back, flushed and with my headfur sticking to my neck and sweat patches already on my shirt, I found Neil and Natalie talking animatedly with Gary as if nothing had happened, my boss introducing them to our horse Ricky. The old quarterhorse was enjoying the attention, he was always a sucker for chest and ear scritches, and I was happy to let them continue, while my mind whirled with what had happened, and the remembered warmth of his lips on my skin, and his clawtip just barely grazing my nipple.

After dinner, I headed to my flat, and a few last chores in the shed. I had just finished and was in the process of getting undressed for a shower, when I heard noises in the shed outside. A bump, some metallic clunking, and a curse.

Heading outside, and turning on one of the small overhead lights, I saw him there. I think a part of me expected it, and I was waiting, anticipating even, refusing to succumb to the need to jack out my load and sleep. It was eleven thirty, and the late summer evening breeze played over me, chest naked as I was earlier that day, wearing only jeans, my boxers, and workboots over my hooves.

"I...I couldn't sleep Rory..."

"Is Natalie asleep?"

I didn't know why I asked, or why I didn't ask the real question; did she know he was here. Maybe I wanted to know exactly how fucked this was going to be, but have plausible deniability if it came to it. The answer seemed, moderately fucked, but not mindsnappingly fucked. He probably wasn't doing this with her approval. Just rediscovering his university years. I envied him those; and somewhere there, gave myself permission to do this.

He nodded, catching his lip in his incisors, and then he gave me a thousand-watt smile of pure predator heat.

"Well, you said you were here to look after my needs mate."

I went with it then. I had wanted this so long, so much, aching for it, for another guy who wanted me. All the years of hurt came into this moment, and I let his gaze play over me like the summer wind, and let the heat reach me inside in places I thought couldn't feel.

"You are covered in sweat again. Do you ever not sweat up here? And, do you ever wear a shirt?"

I returned his gaze now. He was wearing a Ralph Lauren polo, and khaki shorts by R.M.Williams, and leather slip ons over his hindpaws that probably cost more than my car. He looked trim, from what I could see, compact, but in shape. And as I let my gaze settle on his groin, I could see his shorts tented out with the unmistakable outline of a needy erect canid cock. I stared at him, waiting him out, returning his heat. He sighed.

"Yeah Gary. Working hard makes you sweat. Especially in this heat. I didn't see you complaining about my lack of shirt when I was chopping wood and you were doing things to me with your mind, I bet. And you have caught me before I could head for my shower. So, you are going to have to get the sweat off me yourself."

His nostrils flared a little, as if trying to sniff me, to savour the rank sweaty taste of me. He was going to get plenty of opportunity if I had anything to say about it. Plenty.

Taking up position exactly where we left off earlier, I reached up for the wooden lintel, sweaty fingerhooves sliding over the wood, my body stretched out on deliberate display this time. I wanted to bathe in that hunger, in that heat, and make him earn it. I was beginning to get my mischief back.

"My biceps Gary...they are real sweaty. You could start there..."

He looked, a little lost, and I gave him a little smile, bathing inside with the sensation of being the one running this show. I was in charge...of my first male. I was in charge...

"Your tongue Gary. Lick off my sweat."

His eyes bulged, as did his groin. He stepped forward, right up to me, his lack of height making it a challenge. He stood a little on tiptoe, and I felt his tongue, rough and rasping, on my right bicep. I knew it was big now, like a small football if I flexed a little, and I flexed for him, drawing a whimper, and he lapped at my coat and the hard muscled skin like our horse attacking a salt lick.

"Yeah...yeah just like that Gary. Now my pits...real sweaty there."

I expected him to deny that request, but I had him alright. He dove his muzzle into my right arm pit, and I felt a ticklish sensation as his lips contacted my forest of white pit hairs. They were rough, but slicked down with sweat, and he licked enthusiastically, drinking in my scent and as much teenage male musk as I could put out. He must be drowning.

I had to stop him, or I was going to burst out laughing from the tickling.

"Good Gary...good...now my chest."

He retreated a step, eyes glazed, face coated in my sweat. I saw him lick his lips slowly with a long pink tongue, grey eyes glazed with need, and I shuddered. This was pure heat now. Need.

When he moved again, tongue extended, he stared with my nipple. He suckled, like a pet lamb on a bottle, and I moaned at last, drawn into the need with him. He licked in a slow circle around my aureola, tracing the path of the soft hairs surrounding it in a circle, and followed the trail of my white chest hair between my pecs and across to the left side to suckle again and draw fresh moans. I lay my head back and let it out, deep, guttural moos of pleasure. I didn't care if he knew he had me. I had him more.

"Now...now down to my belly button Gary. It's really wet."

He traced a line from the centre of my pecs all the way down my abdomen and lapped out the liquid contents of my navel. I was writhing now, muscles bunching, relaxing, bunching. He got creative then, licking lower, across the cradle of my hips, and then right across the top of my pelvis, where my jeans had fallen lower as he worked me over. My thick crop of darker pubes had just peeked over the waistband, and he licked along the border, abdomen, hair, abdomen. I ached. So much.

"Now take down my jeans Gary."

His excitement made him clumsy, and it took a couple of goes after he knelt before me to undo my belt, and my button fly, and drop them. My boxers were soaking, my cock poking straight out and up straining the fabric. He went for them next, carefully lifting the waistband over my hardness, and down, my cock swinging up and slapping my belly and showering my coat with pre.

I wanted it so bad, but I wanted to play some more. He was so obedient, I wanted to test him, and myself.

"My nuts Gary. My nuts are really really sweaty."

Denied the immediate prize of my cock, he complied, with a soft whimper. His face pressed against my groin, and I felt his tongue bathe my fat scrotum, then suckle each heavy nut into his willing muzzle. I cried out then, my cock leaking a river of precum. I loved the feel of my nuts, and the look of them when I posed in the mirror. A bull amongst bulls, I had a huge sack now, with two massive nuts that felt so good when I squeezed them as I jacked off. But this...oh God, the feel of his rough tongue. And the thought of him, a wolf, and what he might want to do with his predator instincts. He suckled. He lapped. I mooed and ruffled his headfur with one hand.

"Yeah that's it Gary, just like that, lick those bush oysters nice and clean." He did, opening his muzzle wide at one point to suck one of my big nuts into his muzzle and draw a scream as he pressed his teeth to it and tongued me hard. I was about to cum just from this, I was so keyed up.

One last test though.

"Now my ass mate. My ass needs it the most."

He looked up at me, lost, owned, obedient. I turned slowly, presenting my naked rear, boxers and jeans bunched round my ankles, body his to use, but only how I wanted. He almost cried. I lifted my tail high, all wanton adolescent heat and lost to arousal, and waited.

I felt his hands first, gripping my cheeks. I flexed, making him feel the power of my heavy globes. He spread them wider, waiting, and then I felt hot breath on my cleft, and a tongue.

He licked the soft skin of my cleft, not deep at first, right up the line of my ass, and then finally I got it, his tongue on my taint. He licked like he was eating an icecream before it melted, and then at last he found my hairy hole and he lay his thumbs on each side and split my pucker and dove inside. I almost shot off there and then.

Unable to take much more of this, I jerked my hips forward, away from his questing muzzle. Not for long. I turned and presented my drooling cock for his attention. He opened wide, and I rocked my hips, fucking his lips, his tongue, his throat, deep in his muzzle and I gripped the back of his dark haired head I forced him deeper along my thick shaft and came in buckets down his throat not caring for him one bit.

I pulled him up by his chin, his chest heaving, my cum dripping from his lips. I reached down to his shoulders, holding him, and kissed him like I wanted to fuck his throat. The taste of my own cum on his lips was the best taste of all.

Reaching for his cock, I found it twitching inside his shorts. He was begging now, as I jacked him slowly. My first cock, it felt good, not huge, but so hard and red with a pointed tip and his knot had already swollen. I had seen a few of my canid mates at school, and one in particular at the same B&S ball where I did it with Tilly. He looked like this erect and needy before he fucked his own girl, happy for me to watch a bit so he could show off. I hope to fuck he never knew I was watching his ass and wanting to eat it like candy.

Here and now, I undid Gary's flies, and undressed him as he had me, shorts, briefs in his case, with a huge wet patch in the front where his cock had leaked out almost a load of pre. Then I took off his polo and admired. He was trim, every muscle defined under his grey and black coat, with a cute hairless scrotum. He must work out, and maybe shave there. I returned some of the favour, suckling his nipples now, biting until I almost drew blood and his paws found my flanks and tried to pull me away before I tore it off.

Panting, I stood back, my cock swinging in the breeze, and told him to wait right there.

In my little flat I had a few things of mine. Amongst them was some lube, some condoms, and a dildo. I had ordered them through the post, something I would never have done at home because I couldn't guarantee dad wouldn't open it. I trusted Neil. I had enjoyed the feel of lube on my dick some nights, and even more the exploratory thrust of the dildo into my hole a few times. Now my supplies would prove useful.

Returning, I had the condoms and lube in my hand. I walked a little awkwardly, not thinking to remove my jeans and boxers, only pulling them up to knee height so I could move. For some reason I wanted to take him like this, my grotty work clothes still on, caught in the moment, farmhand conquering the city spiv. He stared at the items in my hand and smiled.

"I haven't done anything with guys for a while Rory. What about you?"

He had me there. I stammered out that I hadn't either.

"I really want to feel your skin mate. Please, no condom? I'm clean, and I haven't had anyone but Natalie in so long."

I could not deny him, especially as it was what I wanted too. The mention of Natalie made me pause though. For about five seconds, until my cock took over.

"Lie back on the table."

We had an old wool classing table in the shed. Its worn surface was shiny, years of lanolin making it smooth and slick. It would feel good on his fur, I reasoned. And it was the perfect height.

He obeyed, and at a command, pulled his legs back with his paws. I would never forget that look, a guy holding his own legs up and his ass open for me, wanting it so much, tail flopping down and swishing side to side his pucker exposed so much and so vulnerable. His shorts and boxers were bunched at his ankles too, and I pulled them off him with his slip ons, throwing them on the table beside him, and took up position between his legs and slicked up my cock.

It was then I noticed the hunger turn to a little bit of fear. I was big, I knew, biggest in my footy club by some margin. Only ten inches, and the equines were generally longer, but thicker than anyone by a long way, with a big wide blunt head. I had seen the same look on Tilly, when her hunger turned to a little fear, and I knew what to do as I knew with her. Online porn has its uses, it was the only instruction manual I was likely to get.

Kneeling then, I bent my head forward, spread his legs wider with my rough hands gripping his thighs, and licked.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

I gave him at least as good a tongue bath as he gave me. Better, as I had him spread wide and vulnerable. I had learned the virtues of head in my brief career as a straight stud bull. I used it now, worshipping Gary's ass, his silken scrotum, his steel hard cock and knot, until his hands were in my headfur and he was drawing me deeper into him and yelling curses to the ceiling.

When I stood and lined up, I watched his eyes. They went wide as I pressed my head to him, wider when I spread him and slid just the head inside. The heat and the tightness almost made me lose it. I rested, rocking my hips gently, forcing it in just a little each time, bending down to kiss him, standing up again to drive in deeper, until with a start I realised my heavy balls were resting on fur, and it wasn't mine.

I was balls deep in my first guy, my cock encased in a tight glove of naked fire. I pulled back slow, all the way, my head resting again on a quivering pucker, and drove back to the hilt. His cries were deep, appreciative, and all mine. I fucked him slow, so slow, but unable to hold back the tide. I came, grunting in shame as my horns almost curled with the sensation, but found I was still hard, and kept thrusting as the slick cum made the way easier and added noises to the night that would haunt my sleep. I fucked harder now in response to his entreaties, and then suddenly was rewarded with the sight of his cock spurting a long gush of cum over his chest, and the feel of his ass trying to cut my cock in half. Within a few thrusts I lost a second load into him, and fell forward over him, our lips locked in a kiss, our embrace lubricated by sweat and cum.

"Now you feel sweaty Gary...getting used to the country eh..."

He gave me a long kiss, soft and sensual, and I jacked him off for a second load. I wanted the feeling of his ass gripping me in orgasm again, but I knew I wasn't up for another fuck yet. My cock head felt on fire. When I finally pulled out with an audible pop, his wide-open ass dripped a line of cum onto the ground, and I watched it winking at me in appreciation.

"Better than your uni mates Gary?"

He nodded, and I was shocked to see, looked close to crying. He looked about to speak, and I took some of the cum from the tip of my cock and pressed it against his lips. He licked, and shuddered.

"Don't speak Gary. Just...enjoy. And thank you mate."

When he was gone I lay down, my mind and heart a mess, and cried a little myself thinking of Josh away in Melbourne probably forgotten me already, and I fell asleep.

***

The next morning my body hurt. The unfamiliar movements must have had an effect, because my hips and thighs were almost in spasm they were so sore. I remembered something similar, after I fucked Tilly for the first time. I chuckled as I showered at that memory and headed in for breakfast. Some things were the same, guys or girls it seemed.

The plan was for Neil to look after them that morning, as I had to do more fencing repairs, and he wanted to show them the lake in town. I was happy for that, as I wasn't sure how to approach Gary.

I knew something was up when only Natalie came to breakfast, and the looks she was giving me were anything but friendly. I knew a tigress could make my headfur tingle with a look, we had one at school, but this was something else again. I was dinner if she could but make it so. When I washed up and left, I wondered if I should go to their room and check on Gary, but cowardice got the better of me, and I headed off to grab the fencing gear and throw it on the back of the old Hilux paddock basher we used on the farm.

When I came back for lunch, dropping my boots at the back door as usual, I trotted into the kitchen on bare hooves and listened for voices. They were supposed to have lunch with us and leave, but I found they had already gone. Neil was sitting at the kitchen table, his face a mask of control. He wouldn't look at me.

Trying hard to ignore the mood, I headed for the laundry. My shirt was covered in grime, and I dropped it into the washer with the next load, loading up the washer with fabric softener and detergent with diligent slowness to try to avoid having to leave the relative safety of the laundry. When I finally triggered the load, I walked back, hoping Neil would have left the kitchen. He was reading some papers very intently, and I went to the pantry to get some bread for a sandwich so I could head to my flat and away from whatever had happened. It was not to be.

"Rory, I need to talk to you."

"Can it wait Neil, I need to eat and wash up and..."

He looked up, and I finally saw the anger. My heart fell into my stomach.

"No it fucking can't."

I waited for the axe to fall.

"Natalie and Gary have left."

"That's a shame, they seemed nice and..."

"I had to refund their stay of course."

I swallowed, trying to look innocent, but his eyes dared me to try it. I swallowed again, harder.

"I don't..."

"Save it Rory. Fucking save it mate. Why did you fuck him? Tell me why for fuck sake."

I stood there, trapped, unable to speak, my chin quivering a little, eyes wide in fear. I had fucked it up again, it was my only talent. I couldn't explain it all, the need, the hunger, the way I loved that Gary made me forget Josh for a brief perfect moment, or the fact I had no idea what to do with my life. It was just what I needed, and I went for it, damn the torpedoes full speed ahead. With what consequences I had no fucking idea.

"Fine, let me tell you then. You fucked up, huge. I have no idea what Natalie is going to write on our review on the website, but I presume 'great time, the farmhand fucked my husband so well his ass leaked cum all over my bed' isn't going to bring in the punters. You stupid, selfish, immature shit. Everything your dad said was right. You are a fuckup Rory. A colossal, stupid, fuckup."

I was close to tears now, just taking it, unable to move, my breath coming in gasps.

"Did you think, for one moment, before you did it, that it might fuck my business? Just one?"

"No sir..."

"What the fuck am I supposed to do with you? How do you think I can keep you on now?"

I did cry then, a little and begged. I could not deal with the humiliation of going back to dad, with this hanging over me, or of losing the little world I had created here in which I was starting, just starting to find a way to live. I would be lost, adrift, worthless. Worthless.

"Please Neil, please. I will make it up to you, I won't do it again, I promise, but don't send me away please!"

"How do I know I can trust you Rory? How?"

"Please...I know I fucked up. Please, just give me another chance. Take the money out of what you owe me. I will never fuck up again, I promise, but please, please..."

"You are a fuckup Rory, I just don't know what to do with you calf."

I hated hearing those words. They smacked me across the muzzle like a blow, Then came something worse.

"Your dad warned me, told me you were a walking fuckup. I didn't believe him. Well I'm the idiot it seems."

"No!"

"Couldn't keep your dick under control for one fucking moment? What the fuck were you thinking?"

"I wasn't Neil, I'm sorry!"

"Stupid...selfish...idiotic...useless...boy...with no...thought...for anyone...else...at all!" He spat the words like accusations, ending with a frustrated whinny. I looked at his eyes, full of anger and hurt, his mane twitching, and dropped my eyes. I knew I was for it. There was nothing to do but take it it seemed.

I shuffled to the table, and bent over slightly, and hooked my fingers in my jeans, pulling them down with my boxers. Dad did it this way when he was at his wits end, and Neil had sounded so like my dad I assumed the worst. I was crying before the belt landed. His words hurt me more than anything else could. But no sound of leather slicing through air came.

"Oh fuck...oh fuck...Rory?"

I couldn't respond. Everything hurt inside. Everything.

"Rory? Rory, speak to me mate. I'm sorry, I got carried away..."

"I know I'm a complete fuckup Neil. You don't have to tell me, dad has enough times. I know I am worthless, you don't have to remind me. Just please let me stay and I will stay quiet in a corner and not do anything, I know I'm worthless, just don't make me go away. Just do what you have to do, it's ok I deserve it..."

I almost jumped when I felt him hold me, tight, from behind. I wanted to relax into his embrace so much, but I knew he wouldn't want that. Not me. Not the worthless calf I was. Then I realised, he was crying too. I held my breath.

"Rory, please forgive me. I lost my rag mate, I never wanted to say those things. You pissed me off so much I lost it. I'm sorry mate...you aren't any of those things. You have been great for me while you have been here, you have made a real difference. You are young and stupid sometimes but so is everyone like you..."

"Not everyone is gay like me Neil. Not everyone is fucked up like that. Not everyone..."

I let it out finally. The words I held inside me like a toxin, and I unleashed them into the warm air of the kitchen like a stink bomb. He held me still, not speaking, just holding. I felt his hand brushing my headfur, his other arm wrapped round my chest, his groin pressed to my naked rump.

"Ror...I guessed you might be, fucking Gary was a bit of a hint. I don't...I don't think that's fucked up Rory. Not at all, how could I?. Not one bit. Not when...not when I am too."

He held me, rocking me in his arms, and the sobbing stopped slowly. I rested in his arms, drawing gasps of air, and felt heat. Heat.

His groin was tented out, the hardness obvious against my sensitive skin.

"Beautiful Rory...I'm so sorry..."

"Neil?" I replayed the words from a few seconds ago in my mind, finally getting it, my pulse quickening. It couldn't be...

"I'm so sorry Rory..."

"Neil? Are you...Neil?"

He had both arms wrapped round me now, and I eased back into his embrace, tears forgotten. His heat filled me, like Gary, but not. Different. Deeper. Better. One finger found my left nipple, slowly rubbing just the tip. I moaned.

"Oh God..."

"I will make it up to you Rory..."

He twisted my nipple now, hard, rough, beautiful. The other arm moved down my belly, rubbing, soothing, until he found my cock.

I was hard as a rock, sticking straight out. His fingertips slid along my length, making my shaft ache, and then he gripped the tip between his forefinger and thumb.

"Oh fuck Rory...so beautiful..."

"Oh God Neil, please..."

I pushed my ass back against his groin, the feeling of his stallionhood against me so good His slow jacking was driving me mad, insane, and I lay my head back against his, while he found the crook of my neck, where it met my shoulder, and licked.

"So beautiful..."

He reached for the butter now, slicking one finger. I watched, entranced, unknowing, and then I felt him place a fingertip between my red brown furred buns and I groaned a deep growling groan and pushed back as he slid a finger into my hole and jacked me harder with long powerful strokes.

I cried out at last with a deep moo as I emptied a load on the kitchen table. Standing, gasping for breath, his body holding mine, I finally turned. He fell back a pace, eyes ablaze, aghast, even terrified of what we had done. I bit my lip seeing that, tormented by his torment. I had to show him it was ok.

I reached for him and pulled him to me and fucked his willing muzzle with my tongue.

"Please Neil...take me to bed..."

He took my hand finally, reading the intent in my eyes, and led me to his bedroom. I had rarely seen inside it. I noticed a picture of his ex-wife, Josh's mum Cathy beside the bed. She had left in mysterious circumstances eight years ago, and though Josh had confided a few things, nobody seemed to know much why in town. Clearly Neil still could bear the thought of her, though I wondered what she would think if she could see what we were going to do right now.

Or what Josh would think...

I let him undress me properly, pulling my jeans and boxers off. I was naked, shaking like a newborn calf, as I watched him follow suit. Like Josh, and not, broader in the shoulders and hips, more muscle, shorter, that chestnut coat darker and with a sheen of sweat. His cock was so beautiful, a length of pink and black mottled horseflesh with a wide flare and under it, a nicely plump sack of black leathery skin. He had a cute bum, I saw, as he dropped his jeans and pulled them off, with some black dapples on the chestnut. I wanted to kiss each and every one of them.

"Rory, we don't have to do this mate..."

I smiled, and took up position on the bed, ass up, lying on my front. I wanted him to look at me like this, to want me like this. I wanted him to feel the heat.

The creak of the bed was loud in the room, and the grunt as he slid behind me.

"Top drawer, left Rory."

I reached over and took out his own supplies. I was relieved, I had to say. Lube, condoms. He was prepared too.

I wanted him bare too, like I had taken Gary, but I knew I wasn't in control of this and it was better to let it be. And after what I had done, he probably wanted protection anyway. Like an idiot, I let Gary tell me what I wanted to hear, but I knew I probably should have insisted.

Instead of a condom clad cock though, I felt something else first. Hot breath. Fingers running along the lines of my rump, tracing the path of my cleft. Then a tongue following the same paths, and I pushed back into it and moaned and begged. He was taking his time though. Which was fine by me.

He finally huffed warm breath down my cleft, and I melted. Then he licked, and I got to feel it again, the sensual caress of a male's tongue on my taint and my hole. I knew I needed that now, almost as much as oxygen. I opened for his finger, slick with lube, the butter long since superseded by something more effective, and knew it would be soon. He gripped my ankles, but then pulled around instead of out.

"I want to see your eyes Rory."

Swung around, onto my back, I looked up at his magnificent cock shrouded in latex, glistening with blood and power, his well-defined body there for me to admire, his gaze on my body too. I looked into his eyes as he maneuvered pillows under my rear, and lifted my ankles over and around his back, under his armpits. His hips pushed forward, and I felt as well as saw his cock nestle against my hole. I nodded.

The penetration took an age. He watched me, waiting for any hint of pain. I gave him none, though in truth it hurt a bit at first with the wide flare not easy to accomodate. I wanted this so much, and the feel of his cock, hot and hard, sliding inside me and filling me up was worth any pain in the world. He was slow, and he was careful though, listening for my little gasps. When he hilted, he waited, bent over kissing me, big green eyes looking into mine, his ears forward and attentive, and the pulse in his cock echoing down my tunnel across the taut virgin skin of my depths, before he finally moved in long slow strokes. I knew what lovemaking was then. I knew I wanted it bad. I knew how it made me feel. I was in a state of grace.

I didn't feel the orgasm coming, only a sudden fire deep inside that spurted out in a long stream from my cock all over my belly. He moaned more than I did, telling me again how beautiful I was. He sped up, faster, harder, and I held on, trying to open up more, trying to make it good. When he came, I saw his expression, better even than Gary's. When he rested on me, body to body, slick skin to skin, we kissed for what seemed an age.

Finally we spoke, in the gentle aftermath of what we had done.

"I didn't mean to yell at you like that Rory. And...I won't hit you mate. I know your dad...well, I knew, and like a coward I did nothing. But not here mate, not here. When you bent over for that beating my heart just melted Ror, and I realised how deep in the hole you were and I needed to take account of that. I'm sorry, I..."

I stilled his words with a kiss.

"It's ok. But it was the words. You sounded just like dad."

He looked stricken at that, and pulled out which hurt and drew a little complaint from me. We lay side by side, naked on the bed, the breeze playing over us as he shucked off the condom and I got to play with his slick cock, feeling it tremble under my touch, my finger tracing the medial as I explored my first erection other than my own and the feeling made me immortal. He had his head on one hand, the other covering his eyes.

"I became my dad too Rory, can you believe it? I became his shit, and let it out on you. It was unforgivable, especially with what you have been through the last year. I can't begin to apologise enough..."

"It's ok Neil."

"No it's fucking not. I took out all my rage against my own dad on you, when you needed a father figure more than anything. My employee, my own son's best mate, only eighteen for fuck sake. I can't forgive myself for it..."

"Seriously Neil, I don't think the OH&S police are going to come get you..." he was on a roll now though, and we were getting to the real nub of the matter.

"...and then I fucked you, when I'm literally old enough to be your father. I just wanted it so bad Ror, you have no idea what it is like all these years, and when I saw you so cute and so beautiful...seriously Rory, though you probably have fucked with a lot of guys, it doesn't excuse what I did. I shouldn't have done it and..."

He stopped, looking at my expression. The truth was written there to see. I was a lousy poker player.

"Rory, how many guys have you fucked?"

"Well, there was Gary, and...yeah, Gary."

"And how many have fucked you?"

"One. Including you."

He doubled up, with a whinny, and it was my turn to comfort him.

"Oh fuck...I'm so sorry..." he let out a little nicker and dropped his head, his ears flat on his skull. I rubbed them with a fingertip.

"Neil, I couldn't have had a better first time, or with someone I liked more..."

Well, I discounted Josh of course. But that was fantasy, this was reality. Beautiful, tormenting, amazing reality.

"Rory, you should have had your first time with someone your own age, someone you actually like..."

Now I was angry.

"Like who Neil? In this town? Who? How did you find your first time?"

He lay down again, pain written on his muzzle. I had to ask...

He sighed.

"I fell in love with another guy in town. I thought we would never do anything, really. Then one day we were working on an old motorbike his dad had given him, in his shed. We got all covered in grease, and we went to the dam to wash off, skinny dipping. Lying under the sky, I leaned in and kissed him. I didn't know why I did it, except I knew I had to. He didn't pull away, and we ended up jacking each other off. I felt like the universe was mine. I was sucking him off for a second time when his dad caught us."

"Oh fuck..."

"We both got the worst thrashing of our lives. We were never allowed to see each other again. He lost his bike, and I lost my car, and our fathers worked hard to keep us apart. Even playing footy, I wanted to talk to him, but he wouldn't let me. I saw such coldness in his eyes mate, they were dead. I was too."

"So, don't tell me to find someone else, someone my own age. I like you Neil, a lot, and it was wonderful. You needn't feel guilty. I'm the one who fucked up with Gary."

He just shook his head. I sighed again. And then I had another flash of inspiration. I gave him a wicked grin.

"Feeling guilty? Like you need redemption? Wipe the slate clean? How about you give me a shot at that tailhole. Well, what about it?"

I knelt on the bed, mischief in my brown eyes, staring into his green depths. Naked, erect, male, strong. Proud too; not something I had felt in a long time. It gave wings to my soul, and added length to my cock. I must have made a sight, my cock dripping cum, my ass slick with lube, tail held high, running a hand across his belly. He stared, eyes clouded, cock twitching too now I saw.

"You are some piece of work Rory..."

"That sounds better Neil. Now...how about it?"

He took up position over his pillows, ass up, laid out for me on the bed. I got a good look at his taut buns with those cute dapples, a deep cleft so dark and inviting, and a low hanging scrotum dancing between wide splayed thighs. I mooed softly.

I knelt on the bed and bent forward to worship. I gave him the treatment he had shown me, licking, first the dapples, then finding the little soft chestnut hairs in his cleft and worshipping each one and then his taint and the back of his fat scrotum and finally, finally his tailhole, winking in anticipation of sensations to come with his cascading black tail held up proud and eager. He was swearing like a shearer then, his ass rising and falling as he pushed back and then tried to escape the intense sensations.

"How did you learn...how..."

"Gary. His ass was good. Yours is awesome though."

I took the lube and the condoms, pulling one over my length with difficulty and a distinct reluctance. He turned his head to look back at me, indecision on his muzzle. Then he rested his head again, and seemed to relax.

"Take it easy mate, it's been a while. And remember, as it says in the terms and conditions, breakages must be paid for."

I was in no mood to break him. Quite the opposite. I took him slow, like I had with Gary, and by the time I bottomed out, my balls resting on his cleft, he was moaning deep.

"Fuck...should have charged that cunt double instead of refunding him. Triple..."

Jerking my hips forward and back felt good, but when I lay over him, my arms wrapped under his chest, fingers on his nipples, my lips on his neck, his mane against my muzzle, I knew perfection. As I humped into him, I felt the now familiar tension, and the tight rhythmic pulse of his ass clamping down, and heard the gasps as he came. I was not far behind, filling the condom inside him and resting against him, my body on fire, heart ablaze. I licked the nape of his neck and nibbled an ear.

"You are forgiven too Neil. Besides, I am not your son's best mate anyway. He has mates in Melbourne for that."

He suddenly pushed back with his ass, and I pulled out with a gasp, sitting back on my haunches. He looked angry again. I held my hands up.

"Lay down mate. You have a little punishment coming."

I did as ordered. I was a good moo now. He lay a few spanks on me, and they hurt like fuck but not many. He soon returned to soothing my sore ass with his hand. It felt good. I lay there with my bum up, tummy down, cock semi hard and growing, looking at my...what? What the fuck was this?

"He loves you mate. He talks about you all the time. You should have heard how much he went into bat for you to get this spot here. Trust me, you are his best mate. He is pissed at you too, and I don't know what happened between you this last year, but trust me, you are his best mate and don't ever fucking forget it."

"So, what are we going to tell him Neil? What can I tell him? What...what is this? What are we going to do? Does he know...does he know about you, or about me?"

He didn't respond for a long time. I nudged him in the side.

"I don't think he knows about me Rory. I'm pretty sure he doesn't about you either, he would have said something I think. So I guess we are in the clear if we..."

"If we what? Don't tell him? That his best mate and his dad are..."

"I'm thinking. Go to sleep mate. You will be exhausted after that, trust me."

He was right, and I did, dreaming of canola fields, and a beautiful stallion, and an ass made for me, and the feeling of a guy's cock deep inside. I probably came. I know I should have. When I woke at six, he wasn't there, and I had a shower and joined him at the breakfast table, a question on my lips as he scoffed down toast. He rubbed my horns and gave my nosering a nudge.

"Still thinking Rory. Go away."

We avoided each other that day, I had to say. I had plenty to do around the farm anyway, and we had a new couple coming to stay tomorrow. Nothing had come up on the website so far. Perhaps Natalie didn't want to broadcast anything lest her humiliation be made public. I thought of Gary, and the lost look in his eyes when he cornered me in the shed. What might happen to them, I didn't want to think. A teenage guy never considers collateral damage. He usually doesn't consider damage of any kind at all.

That night, resting on my bed, contemplating a long majestic wank, I heard a soft knock on the door. I clopped over on my hooves, opening it to find Neil, still dressed, looking bereft. He had something in his hands, and as I looked realised it was condoms and lube. I grinned and trotted over to my own bedside drawers.

"Got my own..."

Like the last night, it started with him inside me. It ended with me inside him, this time straddling my hips, lowering himself onto my cock. He told me he was hurting like a bitch the next morning, my size had really done a number on him. I just grinned a wild eyed grin and asked if he was chicken. I would get a spanking for that, he told me, and he did, before taking me into him and letting me jack him off with a lubed hand while he rode me like a cowboy. When I came, alas into a condom, he rested in my arms and played with my chest hair tufts as I slowly jacked his still hard cock. I had one more question that had been bugging me though. Perhaps I hated competition.

"Your first love Neil...what happened in the end?"

He wouldn't look at me, I saw, I assumed because it hurt too much.

"He left town, and we lost touch. I hope...I hope he is doing ok. I hope so much."

I sighed a little in relief. Now for the hard one.

"So...what are we going to do Neil?"

He stopped me with a finger on my lips, one coated in my cum. He had jacked me while he fucked me, and when I came I came all over his hand. He used that partly to slick his own hole, and I tasted his ass and my cum and I wanted to suck his fingers off.

"You are going to take that condom off, and we are going to do this properly. If you promise not to fuck anyone else, ever, without telling me."

I was hard as steel then. He dismounted and gave me a wicked grin to match one of my own. I wasn't yet completely lost to it though. I had something left.

"No, I mean, about us, about Josh, about anything..."

"I'm still thinking Rory. Now fuck me, it makes me think better."

As I lifted his ankles over my shoulders, under his instruction, and began to fuck him deeper than I thought possible with his hooves pointing to the ceiling, I reasoned his cries and the clawlike grip he had on my ass meant he must be thinking good. I just might have to wait until we finished for him to speak. He seemed a little preoccupied.

As was I, but with a guilt deep in my heart, it was Josh who preoccupied me. And if a part of me wanted the younger version of the stallion under me to be the one taking my cock right then, one I had last seen making crop angels in the canola field, I could only hope that would pass. Because I knew it could not be. Neil would find an answer though. And if I knew deep inside he had no answers, I let him off the hook because I knew I had none to my little dilemma