Jockeying

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#1 of General Porn


"Alright, I brought the weed and the beer, you're rolling, Blane," said Logan as the rat sidled into the living room. He had a twelve pack of Steel Reserve in one hand. Blane, a Shetland pony, raised an eyebrow. "Steel Reserve? Shit tastes like ass, dude." Logan was already on his way into the kitchen. "Yeah, when it's warm. That's why I'm puttin' it in the fridge. Tastes way better cold, and it'll get you shitfaced faster."

Blane made an interested grunt as he folded his burly arms. He was a big guy, burly, but not as tall as most horses. Dressed in a black wife-beater and torn blue-jeans, the equine brushed a hand through his short-cropped blonde hair, pushing his bangs out of his eyes. His hair and fur were the color of fresh straw. "I figured the weed would be enough," he said, as Logan pilfered some leftover Chinese food out of the fridge and stuck a fork in it.

"Naw, we're watchin' the game, man, gotta loosen up, enjoy ourselves! It's bro's night!" the rat chuckled, as he shoved a clump of cold, sticky lo-mein into his mouth. "That's been in there almost a week, Logan," Blane said offhandedly. Logan shrugged and took another bite, as Blane expected. "Whatever, it won't be my ass turned inside out later tonight. I got snacks. We're all set."

Logan, still eating his stolen, week-old noodles, followed Blane into the living room. Blane's apartment wasn't huge, but it felt like it was since he only owned a couch, a coffee table, and a massive TV and entertainment system in the living room. The couch and table were secondhand, the electronics were not. It was easy to see where Blane's money went. The coffee table was laden with nachos, twice-baked potato skins and a veggie plate with dip on one side. On the other, on smaller plates and carefully not touching any of the other food, was a plate of hot wings and pigs-in-a-blanket with cheese dip.

"Dude, sweet, ya got me hot wings," Logan crowed, paper container of Chinese forgotten on the breakfast counter between Blane's living room and kitchen.

"Yeah, you bitched so much about not having any meat last time, I couldn't forget," Blane shot back, smirking as the rat sat down on the couch and snagged a hot wing. He devoured it messily. "Just don't get any on the other stuff."

Logan waved a dismissive paw as he reached for another hot wing. "Yeah yeah, I hear ya, herbivore. I won't get any meat on yer food, promise." he teased. Blane rolled his eyes and sat down on the other end of the couch. He cracked his neck and got comfortable, his bulky wrestler's-build making the cracked faux-leather of the couch creak. "Where's the weed, smart-ass?" he asked. Logan produced a packet and a pack of papers, pressing both into Blane's outstretched hand with buffalo-sauce covered fingers. "Dude, gross," Blane balked, wiping the sauce away with a napkin. Logan belched unconcernedly.

Blane took the pouch and began grinding the bud. On the TV, the game was getting ready to start. Logan kept eating, the more slender built rat munching his way through wing after wing. Blane snorted, "I dunno how you eat like that and stay so skinny."

"Fast metabolism," Logan grunted, sucking a chunk of wing meat out of his back molars. "Unlike you, chonky boy. See, I have the same question about you, except it's 'how the fuck you get so beefy just eating veggies'? Don't you need protein to be that built and heavy?"

"I get plenty of protein, thank you. What? Do you think I chew bags of spinach all day and wash it down with smoothies and coconut water? Ever heard of tofu? Seitan? Nuts and seeds? Beans? All loaded with protein." the blonde horse retorted, as he started shaking the ground weed out into one of the papers. He eyes flicked from the rolling to the TV, and then back at Logan. The rat was watching the TV, for once not eating. His gray fur was messy and he wore a jersey and athletic shorts. For being as skinny as he was, he was sinewy, his long arms and legs trim and taut with muscle. A runner's build. Almost an exact opposite to Blane's stocky, broad wrestler's form.

"How's Sarah?" Blane asked casually, licking the adhesive side of the paper.

"Gone," Logan answered, not looking away from the game. "She caught me with Victor and bailed."

Blane blinked, nonplussed. "Victor? Her personal trainer, the rottie guy who was like ninety percent muscle?"

"Yeah and the last ten percent was balls," Logan laughed. "He was about as sharp as play-doh, but fuck he was a good lay. Tight ass. Like a fuckin' vice." the rat mimed his paws around his crotch, as though he was gripping an ass sitting on his lap. Blane laughed. "I didn't know you swung that way, dude. Sorry she dumped you, though you kinda deserved it, cheating on her."

Logan shrugged and grabbed a pig-in-a-blanket, dunked it in cheese dip and took a bite. Chewing, he mumbled around it, "Fuckin's fuckin', dude. I don't really care if it's a cock or a cunt. There's plenty of fish."

After a somewhat awkward pause, the Shetland spoke up again. "So, you're telling me that Victor, the ubermasc rottie trainer, takes dick?" Blane asked, rolling the blunt between his fingers.

"He damn sure did with me!" Logan boasted. "Took it like a fuckin' champ."

Blane focused back on his rolling after that. The stocky equine tucked the ends of the spliff in and reached for the lighter on the coffee table. As he lit it, Logan leaned forward and grabbed a nacho, managing to rush it into his mouth before a glob of cheese and beans fell onto his jersey. "What about you? Got any side-chicks?"

"Not really," Blane grunted, before hitting the blunt. The cherry flared, and the skunky, pungent smell of weed filled the room. He let the smoke out, coughed, and continued speaking. "I haven't had a girlfriend since I broke up with Julie."

"Yeah, she was a bitch," Logan said offhandedly. "good riddance." Blane took another puff and passed the blunt to Logan. For awhile they smoked, passing the blunt back and forth between each other and eating their snacks. Eventually, Blane got up. "Grabbin' a beer." he grunted as he walked toward the kitchen. "Bring me one!" Logan called, as he leaned the blunt onto an ashtray. Blane returned, two beers in hand. He passed one to the rat.

The Shetland cracked the top of his can and swigged from it. He pulled a face. "Im'ma call bullshit on your 'it's better cold' theory," he laughed. He swigged again, however. "It'll still fuck you up," Logan asserted, laughing too, as he cracked his own can and guzzled from it. He belched loudly and went back for more food. They spent the rest of the game eating, passing the blunt back and forth, and drinking beer. Afterwards, Blane sat rolling another joint, both of them already quite buzzed. Most of the food was gone. Logan was pretty much sprawled on the couch, his lanky form sunk down into it in a happy buzz of food, THC and alcohol. As Blane rolled, the rat looked over at him.

"You ever do it with a dude, man?" he asked suddenly. The horse paused in his rolling, surprised by the question. He snorted a laugh. "Naw, I ain't," he grunted reflexively. "I barely get time to pick up ladies, man, let alone fuck dudes."

"So what yer tellin' me is, you ain't gettin' laid," Logan inferred, a slurred grin spreading across his face. He pointed a finger at Blane. "We," he grunted, "should fuck."

Blane laughed and licked the adhesive on his paper, finishing rolling the joint as he spoke. "Dude, you're plastered."

"I ain't!" Logan insisted indignantly. "C'mon, we'll make it interesting. You whip yours out, I'll whip out mine and we'll compare. Smaller dick does whatever the bigger dick wants."

Blane looked over at Logan, the rat grinning and rubbing his crotch through his blue athletic shorts. "You are wasted, dude. You just challenged a horse to a cocksize contest."

"Oh, so yer so sure yer bigger than me?" Logan asked, still beaming. "Put yer money where yer mouth is, then, pony-boy. I betcha a hundred bucks I'm bigger'n you."

Blane snorted. He lit the new joint. Maybe it was the weed and the beer, maybe it was the prospect of wiping Logan's smug grin off of his face, but Blane nodded. "Fine," he agreed, hitting the blunt. He blew the smoke out. "Easiest hundred bucks I ever made. I hope Victor gave your jaw some practice, dude. I'm looking forward to putting pipe to that big mouth." he boasted, his free hand rubbing his own crotch now.

"Fuck yeah, that's the spirit," Logan cheered. "I can't wait to put this dick up yer ass, Blane."

The Shetland took his second puff and passed Logan the blunt. He leaned back into the couch, pulling his zipper down and pushing his hand into his pants to grope and knead himself. Logan watched him eagerly, hitting the joint. The rat had to admit the beefy sunshine-blonde pony looked good working his meat. The muscles in his arm flexed as he played with himself, his shaggy yellow pelt shiny in the light of the TV. A moment later, the equine stood up briefly to push his jeans and boxers down to his knees. When he sat back down, his cock bobbed up to lay against his flat, muscular belly. Eight inches of pink horse dick lay there in the grooves between his abs. It was as thick as one of the Steel Reserve cans, with a wide purplish helmet. He was cut, but loosely, his scar high on his shaft so his prick was meaty and girthy. Below it, two large oval balls rested in his blonde-furred sack, lolling against the seat of the couch. "There," Blane grunted. "See? I told you." His fist gripped his cock, lifting and waggling it like a joystick at Logan. "It was stupid to dick-challenge a horse."

Logan was still smiling. The slender gray rat stood up and walked over to stand in front of Blane. "Alright then, moment of truth," he said, "You ain't bad, but I'm pretty sure I can take you." Logan hooked his thumbs into his shorts and pulled them down. He wore a jockstrap beneath, and Blane only got a brief look at the pouch of it before it was coming down too. Logan stepped completely out of his shorts, and Blane found his eyes locked on his buddy's package swinging between his thighs. The rat's cock wasn't fully hard, but it already swung between his slender legs like a clock's pendulum. Blane's eyes widened slowly as Blane leaned his crotch down and lined his dangling dick up against Blane's stiff spire.

"Dude," Blane grunted, staring between his legs. "What. The. Fuck?"

Logan's schlong was at least ten inches long and easily as thick as Blane's own. His pink meat was nudging against Blane's crotch, its uncut head buried in the horse's blonde pubes. Blane's wasn't touching Logan's crotch at all. The rat's shaft was enormous; it looked like an extra leg as it hung there, three-quarters hard and still swelling. A broad central vein ran down the top of his shaft, branching like a lightning-strike as it fed his shrouded knob with blood. Behind it, two fat, loose-hung nuts the size of small oranges bounced freely. With his eyes wide, Blane felt his cheeks turning red. "H-How in the fuck does a beanpole like you end up with a kickstand like that?"

Logan took a hit of the joint, smugly, looming over Blane with one foot on the seat of the couch beside him like Captain Morgan. "Genetics," he grunted like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "See, Blane, you're a small horse. Me? I'm a BIG rat. I got Tanezumi rat in my blood. Don't feel bad, you ain't the first guy I've blown out of the water with my fat torpedo."

Blane's cheeks reddened further, but his cock twitched harder between his thighs. He wasn't small, but compared to his friend he felt like a twig alongside a mighty oak. "Fuck man," he was all he managed.

"Yup, that's what I do," Logan laughed, passing Blane the blunt. "Here, yer gonna wanna hit that." Blane seemed to agree as he took the blunt and dragged on it. Logan took the opportunity to shrug his jersey off. Blane sat there looking at his naked friend, the rat's slender, sinewy build so different from his own. He still couldn't believe he packed that much cock between his legs. The rat was tattooed, had a piercing in his nose and left nipple, matching ball-capture rings. He could have passed for a skater easily.Logan was looking around.

"You got lube?" He asked. Blane grunted, blushing harder. "Uh...yeah, in the bedroom," he said as he stood up. He tried to pull his pants up, but Logan stepped on them. "Uh-uh, dude. Naked. I wanna get a good look at you. Been wantin' to see yer bulky ass naked for awhile now."

"C'mon, man, jeez..." Blane complained, but he submitted to Logan's requests. He stepped out of his jeans, his cock bobbing between his legs as he pulled his wifebeater off. "Look, goddamn it, I ain't never had nothin' in my ass before," he protested, standing naked before Logan. "You take it fuckin' easy with that fuckin' forearm you call a dick, or I swear to god I'll shit all over you."

Logan laughed. "Dude, relax, jeez. I know what I'm doin'. I'll be reeeaaal gentle, I promise." he soothed patronizingly. "You won't even know I'm there." he bounced his cock in his hands, heavy enough to 'plap' audibly against his palm. Blane rolled his eyes. "Fuck off, yer gonna be unbearable now, aren't you?"

"Yup."

Blane sighed exasperatedly and stalked off to the bedroom. As he got his bottle of lube that he used when he was beating off, he looked down at his dick. He was still rock hard, and he surprised himself to see a bead of precum welling out of his slit. "What the fuck is that about?" he asked, swiping the slick fluid from the tip of his prick and eyeing it, stretching it between his fingers. He only leaked like that when he was extremely aroused. "Must be the weed..." he mumbled, feeling himself blush again. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew he could call the whole thing off. Kick Logan out and pretend it never happened. He surprised himself again to realize he didn't want to.

"I'm losin' my hard-on, dude, hurry up!" Logan's voice called from the living room. Blane sighed again, rolling his eyes. "You're such an asshole, dude." he said as he came back into the living room.

"Yeah, I know," Logan laughed as he took the lube from Blane. "Flex for me while I slick up."

"Oh fuck off," Blane snapped again. He watched Logan squirt lube into his hand and start spreading it over his enormous dick.

"You lost, dude, don't be a spoilsport," Logan insisted. Blane rolled his eyes again. "Fine."

As Logan stood there stroking lube over his tool, Blane lifted his arms and flexed his biceps. Logan watched him, clearly enjoying the sights. Blane was built like a boulder, five and a half feet tall, broad shouldered. His legs were short and powerful, all of him covered with shaggy blonde hair that gave his beefy build a softness that Logan loved. His big balls were clearly getting all the protein they needed to produce testosterone; the horse definitely wasn't small. He just wasn't big enough to win this contest. Blane turned around, still flexing, and Logan grunted as the equine's meaty rump and slab of back muscle came into view. "Oooh shit, dude, fuckin' christ that's a great ass," Logan grunted, rapidly pumping his massive rod. "I can't wait to get up in that. You clean?"

"Yeah, I'm clean," Blane answered, turning back around. "I'm not a fucking barbarian like you." he replied, but he was smiling.

"Im'ma show you a barbarian. Get on the couch," Logan said, pointing at it. Blane sidled over, feeling his own dick bobbing with every step. "What happened to 'I'll be gentle'?" he quipped as he climbed onto the couch. He put his hands on the back of it and sat on his knees, his ass facing Logan.

"Damn, that was before you started showing off that bod, dude. You sure you ain't done this before?" Logan asked as he stepped up behind Blane and nestled his rangy schlong into the crack of the horse's perky ass.

"Julia used to like getting fucked like this," Blane grunted, swallowing the embarrassment. "I'm just...copying her."

"Well yer a damn fast learner, shit, I'm about ready to nut already," Logan said as he pulled his hips back and began rubbing his uncut cockhead around the rim of the Shetland's hole. He squirted a blob of lube onto the junction between his knob and Blane's ring, smearing it in. Blane moaned. "Fuuuuck dude..."

"Heh, feels good, don't it?" Logan asked, his hands gripping Blane's strong hips. "See why I swing both ways?"

Blane felt shame well fresh in his belly, and swallowed hard. He fell silent as his buddy prepared to start fucking him up the ass. That realization made his cock flex, slapping his gut with a heavy thud.

"I'm gonna start pushin'," Logan warned. "Relax. Stroke yer dick. It'll help."

"Yeah, yeah, I know how this works I just ain't done it." Blane snapped. "Just...just do it." he pushed his face against his arm on the back of the couch, taking his steel-hard dick in his other hand and starting to stroke. He felt more precum slide between his fingers and shaft, his balls tingling between his broad thighs.

Logan started rocking his hips, gently pushing against the horse's hole. He went to use his fingers to help stretch him, but to his surprise, his cockhead slipped in much more easily than he was expecting. "Whoa." Logan grunted, his knob suddenly engulfed in the lubricated heat of his buddy's innards. "Yer _sure_you ain't done this?" he asked.

"Mmngh...Julia...Julia liked to use a strap-on," Blane admitted, his voice muffled by the couch. He straightened up, shooting a daggers-glare at Logan over his shoulder. "Don't say a fuckin' word. To nobody, you hear me?" he demanded. Logan grinned but he raised his paws placatingly. "I won't. Damn though, I wasn't expecting ya to be able to take me."

"Yeah, well, Julia was a size queen," Blane admitted. Logan snickered, and Blane blushed as he realized the implications. "Shut up and fuck me, dumbass."

To his credit, Logan at least knew when to quit. He shut up as requested, and knowing that Blane wasn't as virgin as he thought he was, he continued to push his shaft into the horse's innards. Blane grunted and groaned, pumping his cock as the rat worked his monster up his ass. He was tight, but pleasantly so, not difficult.

"Shit dude, you feel so fuckin' good squeezin' me," Logan panted, as he bottomed out in Blane. His big nuts bounced off the stallion's own. Blane bit his lip to keep from moaning. "Pass me the blunt," he said, and when Logan did, he hit it. The tingle of weed and the buzz of alcohol was thick in his head. He wondered if he would regret this tomorrow, but for now, he decided to just lose himself in it. As Blane puffed, Logan started to hump. His narrow hips worked back and forth, the taller, skinnier rat fitting neatly behind the broad, stocky horse's backside. Logan's paws gripped at Blane's wide rump, holding him tightly as he started to fuck the stallion properly. The slap of his hips against Blane's were contrasted by the rat's panting groans. Blane passed him the joint back, and he took a drag. The woozy tingle of the THC in his system only made the feeling of the horse's tight, hot tunnel around his tool that much more tantalizing.

"Oh fuck..." Blane breathed, working himself, starting to rock his hips back to meet Logan's massive prick. "Goddamn, dude...Your fuckin' cock is so huge."

"I know, right?" Logan replied in that self-satisfied male tone. "Fuckin' blessed, here."

"Yeah you are, now fucking use that big dick like you know how," Blane demanded, blushing, again copying words he'd heard Julia say to him. It was awkward, but he was too drunk and too stoned and too horny to give a shit. Logan seemed to agree with him, as he started to slam his hips against Blane. His thrusts became a staccato rhythm of slaps, nuts smacking Blane's thighs as he railed his buddy into the couch. They both dissolved into moans and grunts, sharing the weed back and forth as they had earlier. The room was spinning, but both males became entranced in the feeling of sex while high.

"Man, I sure as fuck didn't see today goin' this way," Blane gasped after a few minutes, his thighs shaking from Logan's vigorous humping. He could feel every inch of the rat's massive tool in his guts, jamming in and out over his prostate. The couch under him was slick with the horse's precum. Both men were starting to sweat, and Blane could smell Logan over the weed, mixing with it. He smelled -good-.

"Neither did I, but shit did I ever get lucky," Logan slurred happily. He was leaned over Blane's back, jabbing his cock just as deep as he could in the stallion's ass. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum, dude. You care if I nut in you or you want me to pull out?" he asked, surprisingly considerately.

Blane blushed. Even if Julia had broken him in with a strap-on, that was something she'd never been able to do. "Just...go ahead and nut, dude," Blane said, his mind reeling at the prospect. He'd gone from straight, to cock-shamed and fucked by his best friend in less than an hour, and he was already letting Logan blow his wad up his ass. The embarrassment was deeply buried under the buzz of weed and the pleasure of sex, fortunately. The horse's nuts were tight; he knew he was going to cum too.

"Aww yeah, man, I'll give it to you good," Logan promised, thrusting harder. The rat's narrow hips and ass pumped just as fast and as hard as he could. Blane closed his eyes, losing his thoughts in the haze of weed and pleasure rushing up from his groin. His fist was a blur on his cock. "Do it, Logan. Fuckin' cum in me, dude," the words spilled out of him before he could stop them.

"Oh FUCK yeah, I'm cummin', Blane, I'm cummin'!" Logan crowed, and he pounded his shaft in deep. Blane felt it buck inside him, and then his innards were hot with the rat's load. He felt Logan jerking behind him, grunting with every spurt, and Blane's eyes rolled in his head as his own dick exploded in his grip. Fat, gooey ropes of horse spunk gushed up the back of the couch, leaving heavy streaks that slid down the fake leather to pool on the seat. The orgasm was intense, his entire body shaking and tensing as Logan filled him and his own balls purged themselves across the couch. It felt like hours before the pleasure ebbed, sharpened by the weed and the taboo thrill of what they'd just done. He felt Logan go slack on his back, the rat's breath puffing against his neck. "Oh fuck..." Logan mumbled. Slowly, he pulled out. Blane felt the rat's cum rush down the back of his ballsack. "Get a towel, man," he told Logan. He sensed the rat stagger into the bathroom, and moments later he felt the towel wiping his balls and thighs, swiping at the puddles on the couch under him.

Blane rolled over onto the towel, panting and sweaty. Logan flopped onto the couch beside him, missing the towel, but Blane didn't care. His cock was still turgid between his legs and he saw that Logan's massive prick was too. It was a while before either of them spoke, but it was Logan who broke the silence.

"Y'know, yer bigger than Victor," he said, reaching over to grasp Blane's fat, still-mostly-stiff cock. "He was all balls and all muscle. Had a dick like my little finger."

Blane laughed. "Yeah, and?" he asked, watching the rat play with his dick.

"I uh...I might not have been your first top but...you wanna be mine?" Logan asked, grinning sheepishly at his friend.

Blane blinked, nonplussed. "Ok but next time you come over, bring some decent beer, got it?"

As Blane rolled over onto Logan, the rat laughed. "Got it."