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The hair net itched so fucking much.

It was hard to choose, but that was probably what Maverick hated most about working at Jolli Burger. It summarised the entire job perfectly: menial, frustrating, and inescapable. Whoever designed it had not had manes--or equine head shapes in general--in mind at all. No surprise there. Horses didn't work jobs like this. They were sports celebrities, or ran businesses, or did porn. They didn't...

They didn't fucking sell burgers.

The stallion glanced to the side, where his manager was absorbed in checking stock, and reached up surreptitiously to scratch at the hated net, sighing as his fingers dug through the material to bring brief relief. They weren't supposed to scratch when at the till; management said it looked "unprofessional". Management, he thought, could go fuck itself. He thought it often. It helped.

The door opened, and the stallion lifted his head and put on the friendliest smile he could manage at this point of his shift. It probably looked like something had died on his face.

"Welcome to Jolli Burger. Can I--"

The rest of the well-worn greeting faded as he stared at the faces before him. Three of them. Two strangers...and one he knew.

Fuck. Fuck! No, no, no...

One of the patrons--a goat--blinked, then slowly raised a hand to point at Maverick. "Hey. Hey...Mav, that you?"

It was all he could do to clench his hands against the edge of the counter as hard as possible to keep his dismay from being apparent. "H-Hey...Bill?" he said. He sounded like a kid getting told off by a teacher. Fucking pull yourself together, you fucking useless idiot.

The goat grinned. "Hey, man! How are ya? How've you been?"

"Yeah. Good. Good. Uh...just...you know, figuring it all out..."

The goat nodded knowingly. "Yeah, I get ya. Life's been mad, hah! You figure once school's over, you'll have so much extra time, but it's just lectures and training and then you're so bloody tired you eat one bowl of ramen at midnight and fall asleep, right?"

The Clydesdale's wounded smile made an attempt to escape. Maverick stuck a baling hook in it and dragged it back. "Yeah...lots to do."

The goat studied the menu above Maverick's head for a moment. "You at Local U, by the way? Didn't know they offered you a hockey scholarship."

A cold thing birthed itself in Maverick's guts and started crawling around. Like fuck you didn't, you piece of shit. "Nah...nah. Didn't...yeah, I actually met someone, so...just staying here."

"Oh, shit, that's awesome, man! Grats!" The goat, Maverick had to admit, did an excellent job of making his words and expression seem genuine. Arrogant prick. "What's her name?"

"Pa...Patricia."

"Sweet!" The goat reached over to slap Maverick's arm. "Happy for you, bud! Glad shit's worked out. And speaking of working out--nice arms! You're keeping in shape, huh?"

"Heh."

The goat grinned. "If you and the lady ever decide to move on upstate, lemme know! I'm at Geoton, and they'd fucking love a chance to snap up a guy like you for the team. You were killing it at the end of last year. Raw talent, that's what you got." He tapped one of his friends on the shoulder. "Hey, Arte! This is that stallion, man! The one who sank that goal from like thirty yards!"

Arte gave Maverick an appraising look. "Shit. Nice one."

"Yeah!" The goat smiled. "My folks are still here, so I'll be coming around every few months. Anytime you wanna meet for a beer and discuss options, lemme know."

The stallion's stomach was filled with ice water. He wanted to throw up. "Thanks. And...sure, Bill. I'll see." Shut up. Just fucking shut up. Shut the fuck up, you horned dickhead. Fuck off.

"Cool, bud, cool." The goat's eyes stayed on Maverick for a few moments more, and the stallion loathed what he saw there. Then they drifted back up to the menu. "Anyway, gimme two Jolli Gorgers and an extra side of Dippi Fries..."

After ordering enough food for a group twice their size, they went to sit at one of the corner tables by the window, as far from Maverick as possible, chatting animatedly. The horse busied himself scrubbing some non-existent grease off the counters, keeping his head down to hide both his glower and the hot shame throbbing on it. He couldn't make out what they were saying, but he could imagine it well enough. Every time they laughed, he clenched his teeth. Every time he stole a look, one of them was looking back.

Fucking assholes. Come home to prance around and shove your greasy fucking scholarship goat dicks in everyone's face. Nobody fucking cares. Just piss off.

They did piss off, eventually. Bill waved in Maverick's direction as he left, but the horse pretended he didn't notice. When the door banged shut and he was alone again, with the bubbling of hot oil and the drip of the tap they kept promising to fix, he stood staring down at the till, fighting his emotions and the thoughts they dragged along with them.

A loud noise behind him jerked him out of reverie, and he spun around to see his manager glaring at him, palm flat on the metal counter where he'd slapped it.

"Daydream on your own time," he snapped. "Did you wash out the fridges?"

Maverick scowled, then quickly flattened out his expression. He couldn't afford another write-up this month. "Yes, Mr Lauton."

"Refilled the ketchup and mustard?"

"Ye--uh, no, not the mustard. I'll do that after my break, Mr Lauton."

"When's your break?"

In an hour, but like fuck he was going to wait. "Now."

He grabbed his company-allotted Super Jolli Lunch meal and headed to the service area behind the building. It was mostly asphalt and garbage cans, but the road ran a few metres away, and some trees had been planted between the road and the Jolli Burger. Birds sat in them sometimes and sang. He would stare at them and pretend he was in a very loud and smoggy forest.

He took a bite of his Jolli Junior and sighed, trying to focus on the trees as trucks hooted up and down the freeway. He'd found some meditation techniques in a ratty magazine sitting on the cistern in one of the bathrooms. It said to find a neutral object and stare at it, thinking neutral thoughts and letting the mind unfocus by repeating a simple task. Well, the only thing around here that didn't make him feel actively frustrated to stare at was the trees, and the only task he had to do was to eat yet another fucking Jolli Junior. So.

Pretty trees. Calm trees. Chew. Birds. Singing birds. Chew. Calm, calm...

"Maverick!"

He dropped the rest of his Jolli Burger in surprise as Mr Lauton's voice cracked out from the back door, and he looked over to see his boss' face glaring at him.

"That group at table four left a hell of a mess. So I'm cutting your break short. You can leave early instead. Get to work."

Maverick sighed and nodded, picking up the remains of his lunch off the floor and tossing it into a bin that he glared at as if it was personally responsible for his truncated escape from reality. The whole thing was probably a good metaphor for his life lately. The only problem was, he didn't know if he was the burger--or the bin.

***********

Getting to go home early helped. A little bit. He was in a funk all the way there; his mind kept going back to his encounter with Bill. It was pathetic how he'd lorded it over the horse. He didn't know anything about Maverick's new life, and he definitely didn't get to go home every day to two horny guys who loved to fuck. Shit, Bill probably had to go out and actually beg people to sleep with him--if anyone even wanted to. Maverick just had to sit down and let his dick out. Easy. That was how a dom did it. No asking, no questions, no work. Just sex.

So, fuck that goat. Maverick already had a better life than he did, and it was only up from here. Working at Jolli Burger was just to tide him over. He'd find someplace new, somewhere that appreciated the alpha energy he had to bring. He hadn't heard back from all of the studios yet, for example. One of them was bound to see his potential.

By the time he got home and pulled into the driveway, he felt a lot better. Even a little horny. Yeah. He'd find Patrick and just put a hand on the zebra's head and push him down. That always felt great. No words, just need. And the zebra would suck his cock until he came like an absolute stud, and then they could have dinner, and he'd forget about his shitty job and his old shitty friends and focus on what mattered: how awesome it was to be a dom.

He pushed the front door open and took a few steps in, already reaching for his belt to undo it. "Patrick? Where are you, you fucking slut--"

"Oh, fuck, Dad! Oh, fuuuuck...!"

A barrage of emotions flooded the horse at the sound of Dylan's voice. He felt frozen in place.

"I'm gonna cum, Dad, I'm gonna...fffuuuuu...harder, h-harder...!"

Maverick's heart pounded, and sweat gathered on the nape of his neck.

"Aaah...fuck, Dylan, you're so tight, son..."

"HARDER!"

"I'm cumming, son, I'm cu--aaaagh!"

Screams of pleasure from the two unseen zebras filled the house. He realised he'd clenched his teeth, and unclenched them as he walked towards the noises. By the time he reached Dylan's bedroom and stepped inside, it had faded from orgasmic cries to exhausted pants and moans.

The two striped equines lay on the bed, bodies sweaty and heaving, cocks wrapped in cum-filled condoms. They'd started using them after Maverick complained about having to sleep on crunchy sheets. The latex bulged with the prodigious output of their balls, and the room stank of sex. Maverick felt his lip rise in flehmen, but that was all that rose. Despite the scene that lay before him, despite the powerful aphrodisiac that the sight of his two lovers, naked and spent, should be for him...they simply weren't. As had been happening more and more often to him. To his secret and fearful dismay, the only strong emotion he felt burning in his chest was jealousy.

Without saying anything, he walked over to Patrick and undid his pants, letting his soft cock drop out onto the zebra's face.

"Suck it," he commanded.

Patrick groaned and shifted his head to let the cock roll off it. "Not now, stud," he sighed.

"Suck my dick, bitch," Maverick repeated, taking his cock in hand and slapping Patrick. "I'm all musky from work. You love it."

Patrick's nostrils flared, but he simply sighed again. "I'm exhausted, Mav...had a long shift..."

Not so long that he couldn't immediately fuck his son when he got home, though. Maverick's irritation felt raw, like a knife against his nerves. He took his cock in hand and pushed the flare against the zebra's lips. "And your dom's got a long cock," he snapped. "Shit happens. Start sucking."

"I'm tired, Maverick!" Patrick snapped. "I--!" He stopped, sighed, and rubbed a hand across his face. "Sorry, stud. I didn't mean to snap." He cupped the Clydesdale's balls, gently massaging them. "I'll take care of you later, I promise. I just need a nap, okay?"

His hand fell away, and his eyes dipped closed. Opposite him, Dylan stared at his father's face, then looked up at Maverick and smiled.

"I'll suck your dick, Mav," he husked.

The Clydesdale looked away, trying not to frown. He couldn't explain to Dylan why that wasn't what he wanted because Dylan hadn't been there earlier when Bill had shown up. He couldn't come up with the words to explain the frustrating, confusing, desperate fear that flooded his veins when the older zebra said he didn't want to suck his dick. Because it didn't matter if he did it later. He had to do it now, or...or...

He shied away hard from where that train of thought led, already feeling hot pricks in the corners of his eyes. Dylan said something, but Maverick didn't hear it through the rush of blood in his ears. He waved a vague hand at the zebra. Not now. Then he hurried out of the room and down the corridor to the back of the house, pushing the door open and letting the distant rush of traffic drown out any other sounds from inside.

The door slammed shut behind him, and he was alone.

The air was muggy and unpleasant as he strode further into the garden, blinking until the tiny tears were gone and his breathing was back under his control. He wrapped his arms around himself, let them fall, and then wrapped them again. A sole nearby daisy had its head removed by a fierce kick from a hoof.

Fuck them. Fuck them both. He worked so hard for them, and he tried and tried, and they just...they just didn't...

He snarled something wordless, sweeping at nothing in the air, and spun around. His hands were clenched somehow, and he unclenched them. He felt full of energy he couldn't release. He didn't know if he wanted to fuck or fight. Maybe both. Maybe that's what would make it work. Go back in there, pull Patrick up by his mane, and make him service him like he was supposed to. Like he did in the beginning. It had been so easy then. Maverick had only needed to walk near him, and the zebra had melted into a pliable pool of need. Maverick had emptied his balls inside him four, five, six times a day. And when he'd been spent, Dylan had always been keen to join in. He'd orchestrated their little fucksessions like a master, and he'd seen the gratefulness on their faces. They only had to do what Maverick asked, they knew, and they'd be taken good care of. Just while he sorted out his life. Just while he found his true path. That was the deal.

That had been the fucking deal...

A clatter from the house next door made Maverick blink and look up. Someone was moving about in the shadow of the porch. The place had been empty for months, but it had finally been purchased. Maverick had heard the truck over the weekend, but he'd been too exhausted from a long and shitty week to even get out of bed and see who it was. Dylan had even asked at dinner at one point if anyone had met the new neighbour yet, he vaguely recalled, but Maverick had already lost interest by then. One neighbour was much the same as another. As long as the new guy didn't hold giant parties and fuck up Maverick's sleep schedule with a leaf blower at six AM, he didn't really give a shit who...

A light switched on, illuminating the new owner, and Maverick's mouth dropped.

...except when the new neighbour was fucking Jaeger Hawk, the biggest equine porn star of the last five years.

"Holy shit," Maverick breathed. Jaeger was cradling a box against his chest with one arm and looking around his porch, apparently seeking a place to put it. In the dusky darkness, he hadn't noticed Maverick's wide-eyed stare from the other side of the fence--and even if he had, he couldn't have imagined the sudden plan the Clydesdale hatched at the sight of him.

Maverick ducked down a little, ensuring he was hidden below the fence and hurried along its length towards the street. Hopping a low hedge, he hurried up to the door of the house next door and rang the bell. After a second, there was an indistinct call from the other side of the house, and Maverick heard the screen door at the back creak open and slam shut again. He posed with his hands on his hips, but as the footsteps inside grew louder, he suddenly let them fall and chose to lean insouciantly against the wall next to the door instead.

Jaeger opened the door, and Maverick's heart skipped a beat. The stallion looked even more handsome in person. The tall, well-built Friesian was shirtless, his chest hair a little ruffled from the box he'd been carrying but smooth and shiny on his arms and belly. He was superbly fit; despite quitting porn some years before, he'd clearly not stopped taking care of himself. If anything, he looked in better shape than in the films Maverick had obsessively studied. His thick pecs sat heavily above a flat, muscled belly rippled with waves of black-haired muscle, and veins snaked along and around the bulges in his arms. He'd grown a beard, though, and he'd let his mane go wild; no more top knot. The loose hair around his shoulders suited him a lot, Maverick thought.

Jaeger paused, his hand still on the door handle, frowning slightly at Maverick's silent stare.

"Can I help you?" he asked, his voice instantly identifiable. Half-growl, half-caramel. The perfect porn voice. Maverick had tried to match it in his applications, but it never quite landed. He tried again now.

"Hey, stud." Maverick pushed himself to his feet and grinned, eyebrows raised. "Nice to meet you."

Jaeger's eyes rolled, and the door began closing. "Fucking fans," Maverick heard Jaeger muttering, and the young horse quickly lifted his hands, pushing his hoof forward to stop the door.

"Hey! Wait! Not just a fan! A neighbour!"

Jaeger looked down at the hoof blocking his door from closing with an irritated face. "What?"

"I'm your neighbour!" Maverick pointed to his house. "Maverick. Two oh five. That's me."

Jaeger's head turned slowly to squint at the house next door, then looked back at Maverick. "You live with the zebra?"

"Yeah. With two of them, actually."

"Oh." He studied Maverick in silence. "You all students or something?"

"Nah. They're my boyfriends." Maverick grinned, waiting for a matching grin from the Friesian, but simply got a flat stare. "Yeah. Couple of zeebs. I'm their dom."

"I thought you weren't a fan."

"Huh?"

Jaeger sighed and crossed his arms. "You usually tell total strangers about your personal life to that extent? Or is it only because you know I did porn?"

Maverick tried to look surprised. "Oh? You did porn too?"

"...too?"

The Clydesdale shrugged. "Oh, yeah. Nothing major, couple solos, couple scenes. But I'm in the biz." It would be true eventually, anyway. He grinned. "Aren't we all?"

"We?"

"You know. Stud stallions."

"Ah. Right." There was an appraising look in Jaeger's eye that told Maverick he'd found his in, and he learned one hand beside the door, flexing it to show off his strength.

"So, you need any help moving shit, stud? My boys have me all pumped up. Will be good to burn off some testosterone with a bit of"--he slapped the wall with one hand--"physical labour."

Jaeger raised a hand to cover his mouth and seemed to breathe heavily as he stared at Maverick for a few seconds before letting the hand drop to reveal a wide grin.

"Sure do, Maddox."

"...Maverick."

"Yeah, sorry. And you can call me Jaeger."

Maverick shot him a finger gun. "Will do, boss hoss."

Jaeger turned and coughed heavily into a fist. "Come on in."

Maverick followed the older horse back into his house, the screen door clicking shut behind them. Inside, boxes filled the entranceway and the rooms leading off it. Jaeger grabbed one and nodded at some others. "These all need to go upstairs."

"Gotcha." The Clydesdale wrapped his arms around one and lifted, grunting with surprise. "Fuck. Got your weights in here or something?"

The horse, halfway up the stairs already, didn't respond to that. "First door on the left," he called down over the bannisters.

Maverick followed him up and into a large and well-appointed bedroom. A king-size bed sat propped up against a wall, facing a mirror that ran across the entire width of the opposite wall, surmounted by shelves. The rest of the room was boxes, some half-emptied, with piles of clothes, toiletries and other basic necessities scattered about.

"Over here," Jaeger said, and Maverick put the box down next to him beside the mirrored wall. Across from him, doors opened onto a balcony, and Maverick stepped through to peer down at the garden. A pool glittered blue in the middle of a large lawn, and banana trees planted around it cast shade as their broad leaves rustled in the wind and garden lights lit up their trunks.

"Nice garden," Maverick said. "Just need to get a pool boy to finish it off."

"You volunteering?" Jaeger asked. He was unpacking the box Maverick had brought up, which seemed to contain trophies of some kind, and placing them on the shelves.

"Not me, bro. But I can ask the young guy I'm with. He knows how to service a stud. I bet he'd love to help you out."

Jaeger coughed into a fist again. "Right, yeah." He pointed at the box Maverick had brought up. "Four more of these downstairs. Same spot as this one."

When Maverick returned the second box, the first was fully unpacked. He took a step closer to read the plaques. "Best Double Penetra--oh, shit!" He gave Jaeger a wide-eyed look. "These are for your films!"

He grunted. "That's what the labels say."

"Fuck, man!" Maverick looked down at the box. "You must have a shit-ton! I've seen all your stuff, but this is so many! How many have you won?"

"Eighty or something."

"Fuckin' A." The Clydesdale picked up one that was just an idealised model of a horse's penis. "Cock of the Year, 2011: Jaeger Hawk. Fuck, hard to argue with that. They should've just fucking kept giving it to you, though, huh?"

"They did."

"Really? For how many years?"

Jaeger picked up the now-empty box and stacked it with some others. "Fetch the other boxes and see for yourself."

Maverick hurried to bring the other boxes upstairs and watched the stallion unpack the remainder of his awards. Soon all the shelf space above the mirror was filled with alternately abstract and erotically-shaped awards, their gold, glass, and steel reflecting the room's lights from every angle. Five of them were of the sort Maverick had admired earlier, and he picked up the final one and read the engraving.

"Cock of the Year, 2015. Jaeger Hawk." He placed it back and looked at the long line of awards on the mantle. "All this in just five years. You're a machine."

Jaeger shrugged. "Did what I was good at."

"You did! And you were so fucking good at it! I wish you'd stayed in the industry longer."

"Well, I only left last year."

Maverick looked at the dates on the awards again. "Wait, so they just stopped giving you awards after five years? That's fucked up."

"No. I wasn't on-screen anymore. Moved more into editing and mentoring. Lost my taste for the limelight."

"What's mentoring?"

Jaeger's tone was dry. "Oh, you didn't get mentored when you joined the industry?" Before Maverick could respond, he pulled another box closer and carried on unpacking. "Teaching new guys how to look good on screen. How to have porn sex and not real sex. How to not looked bored as fuck after five hours of shooting a DP anal scene. You know." He shot Maverick a weird look, but the Clydesdale had just had a great thought.

"Oh, shit! So you know all the tips and tricks someone needs to do to make it big as a porn star, huh?" This was working out almost too perfectly. After he'd fucked Jaeger and the guy knew he had the skills, he could personally train Maverick.

Jaeger grunted, unpacking a final award which he put face down on the shelf without looking. When he turned away, Maverick grabbed it and looked at it.

"Duo of the...oh! You got this for that scene with that other horse, the other Friesian. What's his name again...?"

Jaeger took a long moment to answer. "Bucephalus," he said simply.

"Yeah! Shit, the chemistry you guys had. And with you being the same breed, it was fucking gorgeous when you fucked. Just manes and dark skin and di--"

The Friesian slammed a coaster down, making Maverick jump. "He's a fucking cunt," he snapped.

Maverick froze. "...huh?"

Jaeger stopped unpacking and glared at Maverick. "You said 'chemistry'. There's no chemistry between Bucephalus and me. I hate his guts. I just fucked him for money and pretended to be into it. You know"--he cocked his head and sneered--"like we do in porn."

The Clydesdale shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah, sure, right, I get you--"

But the other horse wasn't done. "Bucephalus," he spat, "is a fucking creep who uses his meagre achievements from twenty years ago to fuck every twink hole that gets within dick's reach of him. He leers at anything with a cock, he sounds like an elephant who started smoking when he was nine, and he calls everyone 'kiddo' as if he wants to slide a hand up your pants leg and artlessly finger you with those wrinkled stubs he has for fingers. Fucking him should have won me an award for community service, instead of this." He gestured dismissively at the final award, then pulled the last few items out of the box and tossed them onto a pile on the floor. "Come. More boxes downstairs."

Maverick was quieter, thinking, as they went downstairs and started carrying boxes into the kitchen and lounge. Jaeger directed him to move boxes until the atrium was clear, and all that remained were piles of boxes in each room. Then, as the other stallion stood, looking about thoughtfully, Maverick sidled closer.

"You're right about Bucephalus." Jaeger glanced across at him, saying nothing, and Maverick stretched and spread his arms, letting the musk of his sweaty form drift out into the air. "I could kinda tell when I saw him that he seemed like a creep."

Jaeger crossed his arms and cocked his head. "Oh, yeah?"

Maverick nodded. "He's from a different time. Doesn't get how young guys like us work."

"Oh. Right."

"Yeah!" Maverick took a step closer, putting on his best smirk. "Sucks that you've got a bad memory of that time, bro. You don't deserve that. So, maybe I can help do something about it...?"

Jaeger stared at Maverick as he took another step closer, the dark stallion lowering his arms and spreading his hooves a little more. "Yeah?" he repeated, his voice a little softer and huskier. Maverick could smell him now, too. A very different scent. Friesian scent. And something that maybe--probably!--was a touch of arousal. Yeah. The porn star was definitely into him. Naturally.

"Yeah. Like helping you recreate that scene with Bucephalus...but with a better, hotter guy instead. One who can actually appreciate the hole you offered to that old zombie." Maverick stepped close enough to run his fingers down the other stallion's shoulder and brush over his pec. "And knows how to show it a much better time."

Jaeger's eyebrows rose, and he smiled thinly. "Well, shit, Maddox," he murmured, "that sounds like a real fucking good time." He stepped closer yet to Maverick and leaned in to bring his lips close to Maverick's ear, the heat from him radiating against the Clydesdale's skin. "Tell you what," he said huskily, and Maverick's dick jumped as he tried to control the sudden shivers he felt at the prospect of getting to fuck Jaeger fucking Hawk.

"Yeah?" he said eagerly.

Jaeger's lips were millimetres from his ear. "When you find that better guy...you let him know where I stay, okay?"

The stallion pulled back and turned away, leaving Maverick blinking in confusion. "Uh, no, I mean, the guy is--"

"Yes!" Jaeger snapped, whirling on a hoof to face him again. "I know! I got it, dumbass! The answer is no. Fucking obviously."

Hot blood flooded Maverick's face. "I--"

"Shut up," Jaeger snarled, pointing an accusatory finger at the Clydesdale and then the door. "And piss off."

Maverick clenched his fists. "What the fuck, guy?"

"What?" He crossed his arms. "You think I owe you sex just because you moved some boxes? You think I'll ever fuck some ill-mannered piss-ant like you?" He snorted. "Go home and dig out my DVDs and slap your pony cock around, boy, because it's the closest you'll ever get to me. And tell your parents to teach you fucking manners while you're at it."

Hurt made it easy to take the low road. "My parents are dead, actually!"

That did take the other stallion aback for a moment, and as he uncrossed his arms, the angry look on his face changed into something different. Maverick felt the hurt inside him vanish, washed away by a surge of hatred. The look on Jaeger's face now was one he'd already seen once before that day, back at the Jolli Burger. From Bill. He didn't need to see it again. He didn't fucking need it.

He didn't need anyone's pity.

"Fuck you," he snarled at Jaeger. "I hope your fucking dick falls off." Without waiting for a response, he whirled on a hoof and stormed out, kicking a box on the way out and slamming the door as hard as he could.

The night air felt cold as ice against his furious skin, and the stallion punched the air in frustration, willing it to fuck off. Willing all of them, every fucking one of them, to just...just...respect him! He was a fucking dom, and they acted like he was just another fucking normal!

Fuming, he shoved his way into the house, surprising Dylan. "Oh!" the zebra said. "There you are. Dinner's ready." He took in the Clydesdale's tense posture and his gaze softened. "You alright, Mav?"

Maverick looked at his friend, then closed his eyes and took a deep breath before reopening them. He stepped up to the zebra, sliding a hand around his waist to jerk him closer--making Dylan snort in surprise--and then pushing it down the zebra's pants to find the still-wet hole under his tail. Dylan squirmed a little, breathing accelerating before Maverick caught his muzzle with his other hand. "No, I'm not. Are you still full of your Dad's cum from earlier?"

"Y--yeah," the zebra moaned. Maverick's thick middle finger squirmed inside him, stroking him. "M-Mav...what...the food...oh, fuck..."

Like frost before the sun, Maverick felt his frustrations melt away. Dylan's face was rapturous, and his passage clenched tightly around his lover's finger. The horse stared at him, feeling reality reassert itself around him. This was because of him. Because of who he was. Bill didn't have this. Bill would never know this. And Jaeger? A fucking washed-up porn star with a cliff on his shoulder. Like they fucking knew anything. Maverick knew who he was and what he was doing. The only instructions he needed were the ones he gave his subs as they moaned in their rut.

He nipped Dylan's ear, making him gasp and whimper. "Good. After dinner, then, slut. Your dom wants to put some colts in you."

"Yes...fuck, please, Mav..." He buried his face into Maverick's shoulder as the horse's finger withdrew, seemingly about to beg, but--with a shudder--he pulled himself upright instead, gave Maverick a lustful look, and pulled him towards the dining room.

Maverick was quiet during dinner, letting Patrick and his son fill the space with chatter. He let his hooves reach out to stroke along their legs, making them turn to him with a smile as he did so. It was just...right. Calm, controlled and ordered. This was the life he'd made, and it was just as it should be. His purpose was clear; he fulfilled it perfectly.

"Maverick?"

He blinked, looking across at Patrick. The older zebra raised his eyebrows. "How was work?"

"Oh. Fine." He chewed. "Had to clean up after some assholes, but that was all."

Patrick tsked. "Made a big mess?"

Maverick nodded. "Fucking kids who don't know how to behave."

The policehorse nodded. "I'm sorry, Mav. I get those too, don't worry. Some days it feels like you two are the only decent ones left in town." He lifted a forkful of food, then lowered it again. "Oh! That reminds me. Dylan, who was that friend you had in school? He did hockey with both of you boys, I think."

"Hockey teams are more than three people, Dad. Can you narrow it down?"

"Uh...goat?"

"Oh, Bill?"

"Must be. Recognised him while I was doing some parking tickets. He didn't recognise me until I mentioned your name, but we had a nice chat. Such a polite young man."

"He took a scholarship, right? At, um..."

Maverick let the conversation fade to white noise, staring down at the remains of his dinner with a frown. The mention of Bill had made his stomach drop, and his appetite for food abruptly vanished. He pushed the plate forward and sat back, arms crossed, glaring at nothing.

"Mav?" Patrick asked. "What's wrong."

Maverick met Patrick's eyes, then slid them across to Dylan. He'd learned that one thing always worked when he was in such a mood, even as they became increasingly common. One thing that banished the uncomfortable feeling for...well, long enough.

"What's wrong," he said, deepening his voice as he'd done outside Jaeger's house, "is I'm horny as all fuck, and nobody's sucking my cock."

He stood up without waiting for a response and walked over to the couch, dropping into it and draping his muscular arms across it, thick legs spread. He flared his nostrils and snorted, flexing his crotch to make it plump up faster. Dylan shot a look at his father, who smiled and said something to him. The young zebra quickly got up and hurried over to Maverick as his father began cleaning up the dinner table, and Maverick smirked. Both his sexy sluts, doing what they needed to do to please him.

Dylan wasted no time tugging Maverick's pants down to reveal the jockstrap he had on underneath and pushed his face into it to breathe in deeply and moan. Maverick thrust his bulge against the zebra's face, his pre-cum already soaking into the pale white material, leaving a damp mark on the equine's dark muzzle. "You like smelling me, slut?"

"Yes, sir," Dylan said instantly. "It's such a hot scent, sir. You smell like sex, and muscles, and cum..."

"I haven't cum yet, slut. I won't cum until I dump every hot drop of my load into your hole."

Dylan's frantic panting made it difficult for him to talk, but he managed to eke out a "Yes, sir" before clawing at Maverick's jockstrap and hungrily engulfing his half-hard horsecock.

Maverick clenched, big hands digging into the cushions, and let loose a guttural whinny. The temptation to thrust hard into his sub's sweet muzzle was almost irresistible, but if he started doing that, he'd just end up blowing his load down his threat. He needed to fuck Dylan's ass tonight. Hard. Extra hard. To show him.

He grabbed Dylan by the ears and manoeuvred his head, pulling him away from his cock--with a wet slurp, leaving inches of glistening Clydesdale cock pulsing against Maverick's thigh--and pushed him lower to where his leathery balls sat. Dylan filled his mouth with one entire horse ball and cupped the other one as it waited for its turn. Maverick groaned and let his head drop back, eyes closed, listening to Dylan's wet, happy noises as he serviced his dom's nuts. What a beautiful slut he was.

He felt two hands materialise on his upper arms, stroking and groping them, and he opened one eye to see Patrick standing over him, looking down at him. "Lift your arms, stud," the male whispered, and Maverick did so. Patrick tugged the Clydesdale's shirt off--the sudden touch of cool air making Maverick's nipples harden--and resumed stroking his muscled body. Maverick closed his eyes again, relaxing into the attention, feeling contentment collect around him. Patrick lifted one of his master's arms, kissing first his fingers and then the rest of him, moving down the arm until he reached the Clydesdale's armpit and buried his face inside it with a long, satisfied sigh. Then, as he took long, husky breaths of the stallion's musk, his hand slid over Maverick's shoulder and down, groping the big stallion's chest and playing with his nipple. "You are amazing, stud," he murmured, and Maverick grunted in agreement.

The Clydesdale let the worship continue, the foreplay ratcheting up his arousal. His cock was soon at full mast, sticking out before him and just touching the top of Dylan's head as the zebra slurped and grunted his way around the large horse's sack. He took it in one hand, tapping it against Dylan's head a few times until the zebra looked up at him inquiringly.

"Did I say to stop, slut?" Maverick snapped, and the zebra quickly ducked back down. The horse felt Patrick sigh next to him, and his muzzle slipped out from under the Clydesdale's arm and to his neck, licking gently.

"Such a commanding stud," he murmured, and Maverick's mind flashed back to the sight of Jaeger framed by his doorway, a mountain of muscle and confidence. He grabbed Patrick's stiff mane and pulled his head around to look into his sub's eyes.

"You forgot a word, slut."

"Sir," the zebra added with a smile. Maverick didn't smile back, and after a moment, Patrick let his eyes drop. Maverick held onto his mane for a moment to prove the point, then released him. The worship abruptly felt trite; unnecessary. He wasn't here for them. They were here for him.

Shrugging free of Patrick's stroking hands, he grabbed Dylan's mane as he'd just grabbed the older zebra's, wrenching his friend's head upward to look down on him. "Did your Dad fuck you good this afternoon, slut?" he asked.

"Oh, yes, sir," Dylan breathed, eyes fluttering at his father. "He's such a good fuck, sir, I--"

"I'm better," Maverick interjected, holding back a sudden desire to glare at Patrick. He pushed the zebra's head away, shuffling forward on the couch. "Turn around."

Dylan did so obediently, lifting his tail to make sure Maverick could clearly see the dark, striated, still-wet hole awaiting him. It made his dick clench. The Clydesdale hadn't fucked many girls before he'd fucked Patrick, but he already knew he preferred ass. It might be a wash in comparative sensation, but the sheer feeling of dominance he got while taking a male was unparalleled. Doubly so for males that he owned so completely.

He stood up, looming over the smaller zebra. His dick cast a long shadow across Dylan's back, like a new stripe in his collection. He was so much bigger than the slut, in every way. Just like a proper dom. He raised a hoof and placed it on Dylan's back. "Down." The zebra spread his limbs apart more, but Maverick kept pushing. "Down," he repeated, until Dylan lay fully prostrate on the carpet, head turned to the side, panting eagerly. Completely at Maverick's mercy.

The Clydesdale knelt over him, one hand on Dylan's back, the other lining up his cock until the crown of his flare caught in the flesh of the zebra's hole. He paused for a second to enjoy the sight of his friend sprawled submissively beneath him, then shot a cocky smirk at Patrick as he moved to be able to watch the young equines fucking. Could have been you.

Then, lowering himself so that his chest and arms covered Dylan, he started fucking. He didn't need to start slow; Patrick had prepared his son perfectly for the big stud. He bottomed out inside the zebra on the first thrust, whinnying in pleasure from the feeling of blood-warm zebra cum and flesh surrounding his cock. His flare pulsed, and Dylan whimpered in pleasure under him. The best sound. Maverick slipped a hand around to grip the zebra's neck where it met his shoulder and thrust again with the wet sound of long inches of draft dick sliding home. His crotch thudded into Dylan's ass with a plap, making it jiggle and Dylan grunt. "You like that, huh, slut?" Maverick asked. He slammed into Dylan several times, exulting in the whimpers and sounds he made. "My dick is all you fucking need, slut. Say it."

"Yes," moaned Dylan. "Yes...your dick is...oh, fuck, sir..."

"I'll breed you harder than your dad ever did." He glanced at Patrick as he said that, but the other zebra was staring at his son's face, masturbating intently, and didn't even notice the stallion's look. Maverick felt a jab of annoyance, then dismissed it. He knew how to silence that voice.

"Please, sir...mmmffff..." Dylan's voice was muffled as Maverick abruptly dropped a hand over it, covering him. Then his head dipped to press up against the back of Dylan's neck, snorting hard against him as his hips slammed against him. Every thrust drove Jaeger's thoughts further away, letting him relax in a growing pool of simple nothing. He drifted off, not even caring about climaxing, simply pounding as hard as he could into Dylan to prove he could. That he deserved to.

His orgasm arrived as an afterthought. He clenched his teeth and roared, his full weight pressing down on Dylan. He could feel his flare inside the zebra through his belly, a firm mass pulsating and pumping deep inside him. The rush of pleasure spiked, and the Clydesdale realised nothing was wrong with the world after all. He was the perfect dom, and his subs knew it in their bodies--their souls.

When his balls had finished emptying themselves, Maverick grunted and got to his feet. His hand was wet from being licked and panted on by Dylan, and he wiped it dry on the carpet. Dylan's quivering, cum-soaked body lay beside him, occasionally rasping for air. The young zebra's asshole struggled to remain closed after the ravaging Maverick had given him, and cum oozed out and down his cheeks, pale and perfect, the line of thick white fluid bisecting the dark stripes as it went. Maverick stared triumphantly, reaching for the mental comfort of another slut well-fucked...but in its place he found the memory of Jaeger's face, sneering at him. Like he was just some...some kid. He wasn't a kid! Dylan was a kid! Maverick was a fucking dom! He had a job, he worked hard, and he got his payment in ass! He'd just fucking proved it!

Jaeger's silent sneer did not falter.

Maverick whinnied, grabbing his clothes and storming out of the room, his limp cock smacking about between his legs. He heard Dylan call after him, followed by Patrick saying something he couldn't hear, and then silence. Good. Fine. Let the subs sort themselves out. Maverick had taken what was due to him. Something Jaeger Fuckhead would never understand, apparently. All those awards, and he still couldn't see a decent fucking dom when it was right in front of him. Bucephalus should have fucked some sense into the guy. Yeah! Now there was a dom worth admiring. Not fucking Jaeger Hawk. No wonder he'd tried to make Bucephalus sound shitty. Dumbfuck pony dipshit was jealous as hell.

He slammed the bedroom door open and dug through a cupboard. Racks of porn DVDs stood in well-handled boxes, and the Clydesdale quickly found the ones with Jaeger in. He stared at the naked stallions on the covers, distaste quickly suppressing any hope of arousal, and began tossing them into the wastebasket. It felt great. With each clatter of plastic into the basket, his mood improved. Putting the cocky bitch in the trash where he belonged. Smug dickhead.

The final DVD was the one where Jaeger starred opposite Bucephalus, and Maverick paused. Bucephalus' smug grin looked back at him, his coloured forelock flopped down over one eye, one hand aiming his massive cock at a bent-over Jaeger's raised ass as the other stallion put on his best slutty face. Maverick stroked the picture, a plan forming.

"I'll keep this one, Jaeger," he whispered to the cover. "It's good seeing you in your natural position. Gives me some ideas for how to treat you when I get you in the same spot."

He had no idea when the opportunity might arise, but if they were going to be neighbours, it surely would. And when it did, Maverick would be ready.

He slid the DVD back onto the shelf and closed the cupboard, finally feeling at ease. His cock stirred a little, and he snorted, fondling it and thinking back to the tightness of Dylan. A sudden muted laugh from the living room caught his attention, and he pulled the door open and walked back down the passageway. The two zebras sat on the couch watching television while Patrick idly fingered his son's loose, cum-drenched hole. The Clydesdale stopped in the doorway, cock rapidly hardening again, and leered at them before hooking a finger at Patrick.

"Come here, slut."

"Mav, we're watching television--" Patrick began, but his son shushed him and murmured something. Patrick sighed and said nothing, but accepted a kiss from his son as the older equine stood and walked towards Maverick, smiling at him before letting his eyes drop to the magnificent cock pulsing between Maverick's thighs. He tucked a hand around it as he slid close to Maverick and kissed the Clydesdale's neck, making Maverick nicker and snort.

"You had a rough day, huh, stud?" he murmured.

"Yeah," Maverick grunted.

The hand on his cock found his balls and fondled them. "Still so fucking full, sir. Was my boy's hole not enough?"

"Yours will be," Maverick sneered. He was getting so good at matching how Jaeger sounded. He loved it.

"I hope so, sir. I love to pleasure you."

Maverick whinnied and grabbed Patrick's arm, dragging him towards the bedroom. "Yes. It's your job."

"Yes, sir. I only want you to be happy. I want to give you everything you want."

As the bedroom door closed and the handsome zebra began undressing, Maverick smirked. Of course Patrick felt that way. He was lucky enough to have the best dom in the world.

***********

The weekend dawned bright and warm as sunlight slid over Maverick's face from between the blinds, waking him. He lay for a while, feeling fuzzy under the blankets, and turned. Patrick wasn't beside him; either he had to work, or he and Dylan had some plans. They often did, but that suited the Clydesdale. He had plans of his own today.

He clomped downstairs to find Patrick and Dylan eating breakfast, and joined them for some muesli and chatter. It was a lovely day, Patrick thought. Dylan needed to finish an essay for university. Someone needed to buy extra tissues for the master bedroom, they were running out. The zebras were going to a market later; did Mav want to join? Mav?

"Mav?"

"Huh?" The Clydesdale blinked, halfway through a penultimate mouthful of grains, staring out of the window towards Jaeger's house. Plotting. He met Patrick's eyes in irritation. "What?"

"You wanna come with?" He held up a newspaper, pointing to some ad or something.

"To...huh? Oh. No." Maverick swallowed the last spoonful of food before pushing the bowl away and standing up. "Got some work to do in the garden."

Patrick's eyebrows rose. "Really?"

"Yeah."

The zebra gave a huge smile, giving Dylan a knowing look. "Well, thanks, Mav. I really appreciate you helping out. Saves me a good few hours tomorrow."

"Thanks, Mav," Dylan echoed.

The Clydesdale grunted, half-distracted by his plans. What was he on about? Oh--Patrick usually did the garden work on weekends. That wasn't the sort of garden work the stallion meant, but whatever. They'd figure it out.

While the zebras nattered on about their thing, he went out into the garden, blinking at the bright sunlight and pulling his shirt off. The warmth felt great on his upper body, and he took a moment to close his eyes and flex a little, feeling his bunching biceps warm and smelling the remains of his sex with Patrick still on him. Fuck, yeah. It might not carry over into Jaeger's garden with the air so still, but it gave him a confidence boost. Nothing more dom than a musky, post-sex stallion.

He wandered around on the lawn for a while, keeping an eye on Jaeger's house. He caught movement through the windows a few times, curtains briefly whisked aside--and, he was sure, lingering there awhile--but the Friesian didn't make an appearance outside. The sun grew higher. Maverick grew sweatier. Jaeger's garden remained empty.

Eventually, Maverick dug an old punching bag out from the shed, hung it from a tree, and started beating it up. It gave him a great excuse to make a variety of loud yells, grunts and whinnies. Anyone on the street, let alone next door, could probably hear him. Hands flew, legs slammed. The bag swung this way and that. Maverick's fists repeatedly landed, smacking dully into the bag. It felt good, and he was actually fantastic at it. He should do more boxing at the gym, perhaps. Show the guys there how it was done. Fuck, he was a stud. They should make punching bags for cocks or something. Or were those just subs? Fuck, now he was horny, too. Where the fuck was Jaeger?

High on endorphins and his own skill, Maverick spun around and let a hoof fly backwards, hitting the bag with a thunk strong enough to break the leather and let sand dribble out. He took a step forward to check on the damage, but then forgot all about it. The bag slowly deflated behind him as he wiped the sweat from his face and looked at the house next door.

Jaeger had appeared.

The Friesian, smartly dressed in a horse polo and trousers, was digging through some boxes on his porch. Maverick's nostrils flared and he took a deep breath, then jogged over to the fence and pulled himself up onto it, looking over into the neighbouring yard. Jaeger hadn't noticed him yet.

"Hey, slut." That got his attention. The Friesian froze, then slowly stood upright and turned a flat look onto Maverick. Prissy bitch. "What are you doing?"

The other horse said nothing, then turned back to whatever he'd been doing in his boxes. Maverick kicked the fence. "Hey. Slut. You digging for your dildos?" He thumped a hand against his side of the fence. "Got something better right here." He smirked, the secret knowledge of his plan bubbling away inside.

In between last night and this morning, Maverick had realised something. His zebra sluts proved it. There was nothing wrong with him: the issue was Jaeger. Last night's altercation hadn't been about the Clydesdale at all, but merely redirected self-hate from the Friesian. He was probably struggling to deal with the fact that he wasn't a porn stud anymore and lashing out at anyone who tried to help him. Sort of like what Dylan had done when Maverick started fucking his dad. The solution was the same: make him realise that he was lashing out because of how he felt inside and make him come clean about it. Push him until he saw the truth, and then step in and be the dominant force he needed to give him the freedom to be what he was meant to be: a cock-hungry equine, screaming with pleasure as a true stud nutted balls-deep inside him.

The Friesian was shaking his head, and Maverick snorted. "You don't have to be intimidated, slut. I know you were just confused yesterday. You just need some Clydesdale cock, and it'll be fine. I'll even let you join my herd if you can swallow me to the balls."

Jaeger's expression darkened. "Let me...?" He dropped whatever he was holding and stormed towards Maverick. As he got into the sun, Maverick's cock throbbed with satisfaction. Prissy bitch or not, the stallion was a hot-looking piece of meat. He seemed pumped, too, with those thick, vascular arms and sweaty chest. Must have worked out earlier. Maverick imagined nosing those sweaty pits as he pounded his cock into the black horse's tight hole, just like Bucephalus had. Fuck, he'd enjoy that...

Jaeger stopped right in front of Maverick, his face a storm. "Fuck off, boy."

"Hey, don't be mad, horsie."

"Shut the fuck up."

"Am I making you hard? That why you mad?" He looked hot when he was mad, Maverick had to admit. With his nostrils flared and muscles tensed, a small drop of sweat running down one side...he'd probably look like that if Maverick denied him cock. Adorable.

"Do you really fucking want to get into this with me, boy?" Jaeger said slowly.

"Into what? Your ass? Sure fucking do." The other stallion's head snapped back in shock at the dominance in his voice, and Maverick's confidence grew. "I will fuck you, cutie. And you'll fucking love it."

The horse was speechless - with lust, presumably. Maverick emulated a cock slapping against the fence for him a couple more times and grinned. "Come on over, and I'll show you how I--"

The horse whinnied in a fury, making Maverick jump. Before he had time to say anything, Jaeger was off, stomping back into his house and slamming the door shut. Maverick blinked, then sighed. The dumb bitch didn't know what was good for him, apparently. Maverick would have to break that stubborn streak somehow. Which could be fun in its own way, really...

His musing was interrupted by the front door of Jaeger's house slamming open in turn and the Friesian storming out, looking furious. He walked across his front garden, straight towards Patrick's house, and Maverick felt a flutter of insecurity. The Friesian looked pretty pissed off...but what? Was he gonna scream at Maverick some more? That was fine. It wasn't like he was gonna fucking fight him or...

...would he?

"Ffffhhuuuuuck," Maverick breathed. This wasn't....fuck! Fuck!

The Friesian walked up onto the porch, and a second later, Maverick heard the front doorbell ring. The flutter exploded into full-blown terror, and he leapt from the fence and hurtled back inside, trying to get to the front door first.

"Coming!" Patrick called out from inside.

"Leave it!" Maverick screamed, but it was too late. He ran into the atrium just as Patrick pulled the door open and skidded to a halt, heart hammering. "Good mor--" the zebra began to say, then cut himself off. There was silence. Time seemed to freeze as Maverick took it all in.

The hulking, eight-foot-tall Friesian stallion filled the doorway like an obsidian wall. His flattened ears and half-snarl made his mood obvious, while the hand clasped around a fist in front of his powerful chest did the same for his intent. If it wasn't for the thundering of blood in his ears, Maverick would find the proximity of the stallion's powerfully muscled physique incredibly arousing. Instead, it just terrified him.

Patrick still held the doorknob, looking alarmed at the sight of the unknown but obviously belligerent stallion. His fetlocks twitched as he restrained his prey instincts, but he stood his ground. Time began inching along again. As Patrick frowned and his hand tightened on the doorknob, Jaeger blinked in surprise, then seemed to deflate a little as he unclenched his muscles. He stared at Patrick with a calculating look before sliding his eyes across to meet Maverick's, and finally back to Patrick. And then he...grinned?

"Can we...help you?" Patrick ventured. His eyes flashed across the handsome stallion's body, and Maverick saw his nostrils flare a little. Jealous needled at him.

"Hello." The stallion smiled. "Sorry. Was just thinking about someone that annoyed me." He glanced at Maverick, and the Clydesdale stiffened. "I'm your new neighbour. Jaeger. Maverick and I"--he gave Maverick a dismissive wave--"were chatting across the fence, in the garden, and I realised I'd not introduced myself properly."

Patrick relaxed, looking back at Maverick curiously. "Oh, I see. Well, lovely to meet you, Jaeger. I'm--"

"Patrick." Jaeger let the "k" catch in his throat like he was savouring it. "Patrick Fantastic, right?"

"Uh." The zebra looked taken aback by the use of his porn alias. "Have we...met?"

"Oh, no, never. But you were...well, I'm a huge fan." Jaeger spread his hands, grinning. "I hope it's not too forward to say, but your work was a huge inspiration to me in my own career."

"O-oh," Patrick said. "You..." He stopped speaking and looked around outside, past Jaeger. "Um, won't you come in? Care for a drink? Water, beer, soda...?"

"Oh, anything's fine, thank you," Jaeger said smoothly, stepping in and closing the door behind himself. He let his smile thin as he looked at Maverick, then turned to look at Dylan as the younger zebra walked in with widening eyes.

Before Patrick could say anything stupid, Maverick interjected. "This is Dylan. My other sub."

"Oh, shit," Dylan breathed, star-struck. "You're Jaeger Hawk." He and Maverick had seen all the same films, of course. That was irritating. Maverick supposed it was okay if Dylan had a crush on Jaeger; it would be moot once Jaeger joined their polycule.

Jaeger grinned and held a hand out for Dylan to shake. "Hey, Dylan. Nice to meet you. We're neighbours now."

"No fucking way!" Dylan blurted, his face a picture of delight. He looked at Maverick with glee, and the Clydesdale moved over to him and put a possessive arm over his shoulder. "I've seen all your stuff! You're...uh, sorry, I don't know if I can say...you're so fucking hot." He was gushing like a schoolgirl, Maverick thought with annoyance.

Jaeger shrugged genially as Patrick led them into the lounge to sit down, then vanished into the kitchen. "I'm glad you enjoyed my performances, Dylan. I did it for the fans." Smug prick. When Patrick returned with beers for them all, Maverick didn't bother taking one. He went to the drinks cabinet instead and took out a small bottle of spirits Patrick had brought back from a year-end event at some point. He cracked it open, then leaned against the wall as he drank it, watching Jaeger.

"So, Jaeger..." Patrick began. "Sorry, is that an alias? Do you have a preferred...?"

"Jaeger is fine," Jaeger said, smiling.

"Well, alright! What brings you to our neighbourhood?"

Maverick drank slowly as Jaeger talked about his move, watching the zebras. Dylan was agog, hanging on the stallion's every word, and even Patrick seemed genuinely interested in what he had to say for some fucking reason. Maverick had to remind himself that they didn't yet realise what a bitch the horse was. To think he had come here to try to intimidate Maverick! The fucking beta colt didn't know who he was dealing with. No, not even a beta; that was too good for him. The zebras had earned that rank, but Jaeger would have to work his way up to it. All the way up. He'd be licking Maverick's fucking hooves for months before he even got to smell his dick.

"So," Jaeger said mildly, "Maverick tells me he's your dom? How'd that happen?"

The question came out of nowhere, slipped into a lull of the conversation with a casual tone just before Jaeger took a large sip of his drink. Maverick stood up straight and shot the other horse a supercilious look, opening his mouth to snarl a response, but Patrick was already answering with a smile. To avoid awkward questions, they'd long since settled on a modified version of events involving Maverick being a pool boy when he first met Patrick, and then roping his friend Dylan in later. Maverick settled for snapping an interjection every few words to correct the zebra on some point until the tale was told to his satisfaction. Jaeger shot him a look every time he spoke over Patrick, which only irritated the horse more. Whose fucking story was it? Not pony's!

"Yeah, so," Patrick concluded, "it's a...different sort of arrangement, but the boys have definitely shown me what they're made of." The older zebra chuckled, looking at Maverick and then Dylan with a smile. "I'm sure big strong equines like them are used to being called studs, but a creaky old zebra like me still can't believe his luck to have the attention of such sexy guys every day. I'm very fortunate, and honestly..."

Maverick zoned out as the zebra nattered on, keeping his eyes fixed on Jaeger. The other horse looked at Patrick with a hint of a frown, making Maverick fume. This fucking loser would dare to be covetous of what he had? What he'd made? He'd force his way into an alpha stallion's home turf and immediately start planning how to take it for himself? Fuck that shit. Fuck that, and fuck him.

Literally.

"Hey, Jaeger," Maverick drawled. The Friesian immediately held a hand up to silence Patrick--with a quick smile of apology--then turned to give Maverick his full attention with a too-serious stare. Dickhead. "I wanna change my offer from earlier, since you're getting along so well with everyone. I think I can actually make some space in my herd for you. You've got what it takes. So, why don't you come over sometime soon and join the three of us in a fun little foursome, and I'll show you what they love most about me." He grabbed his crotch and smiled. "Guaranteed to make even failed porn stars scream with pleasure."

Jaeger's expression didn't change as his eyes dropped to look at Maverick's bulge, then back up to his face. "Don't think it's pleasure."

"What?" What the fuck had he just said? "What the fuck do--"

"Maybe they're just screaming to try to get rid of you."

Maverick's eyes bulged, and the Clydesdale let his bottle drop to the carpet as he stalked forward, bristling. "Ex-fucking-scuse me?"

"No." The Friesian got to his feet and folded his arms, a few inches and many pounds larger than Maverick. "I think there have been enough excuses made for you. Far too many."

"Far too--what the shit does that mean, dipshit?" At his scream, Dylan stood up as if to defend his friend, but his father pulled him back down and murmured something to him. Jaeger's too-cool eyes stayed on Maverick throughout, all but jeering at him, and Maverick stared back in fury, one hand slowly clenching into a fist. This piece of shit was fucking asking for it now.

"It means," Jaeger explained, as if to a dense child, "that you're an asshole. And that this isn't a situation your dick can get you out of, even if it got you into it. You need to grow a fucking pair of balls, be a fraction of what you pretend to be, and do what you should have done a long time ago before you end up exactly here for the rest of your sad life. Boy."

Maverick stopped listening halfway through, baring his teeth and flattening his ears. "You're the one without any balls, you fucking gelding!" he spat. "Too fucking weak to get subs of your own, huh, Mr Failed Porn Star? Got to leech off better horses for your fix?" Jaeger put his beer bottle down and looked intently at the two zebras as Maverick snarled and pointed a finger at him. "Don't you fucking look at them! You look at me, shithead! I'm in charge here! And you're never getting my dick now, apple-slut!" Jaeger ignored him, finishing his examination of the zebras with a dismissive sniff and a "well, nice to meet you" before walking towards the front door. Maverick screamed at his back as he left. "Yeah! Fucking leave, coward! Fucking finally! And don't come back!"

Jaeger paused with the door open, laughing softly at some private joke and then speaking without looking back, loudly enough for them all to hear. "Don't put words in your partner's mouth."

Maverick gaped in shock at the door as it clicked closed behind the horse. His head was pounding, either from the alcohol or adrenaline, and he took a moment to steady himself before spinning to look at the two zebras. Dylan at least looked angry, but Patrick merely looked uncomfortable. And, Maverick couldn't help but notice, he'd not come to the Clydesdale's defence at any point. Not once. Not with a single word.

What good are you...?

The stallion snarled at the two equines and turned, pulling the door open and running outside. Jaeger was heading up the path to his front door. "Hey!" Maverick yelled after him. "Who the fuck do you think you are?" He sprinted across the lawn, leaping a low line of hedging and skidding to a stop on the paving stones. Jaeger had stopped at the top of his porch and was looking down at the horse with the same irritatingly flat expression he'd had while insulting him to his face only seconds ago. Maverick shot a quivering finger at him. "How fucking dare you come into my house and insult me!"

"It's not your--"

"You think you can get away with making me look like a fucking asshole in front of my subs? Huh?" The Friesian's expression darkened as the Clydesdale kept speaking; his chest muscles moved, bunching up, and his hooves turned to face him. "You think they'll just forget about me and come service you because you got some pathetic little prizes? I fucking own them! And you can fucking forget about getting my dick now, you smug cu--"

Jaeger moved with a predator's smooth and deadly speed, taking all three steps down from his porch in a single massive stride and closing the remaining distance to Maverick with another one. Before Maverick could react, the stallion had stuck a hoof out and caught the bulky Clydesdale on the fetlock, tripping him. Maverick fell hard, his breath flying free with a stunned oof and his head ringing as it bounced off the pavement. A shadow swept across him a moment later as Jaeger's form loomed in front of the sun, and Maverick gave a whimper and lifted his forearms for defence as the large stallion's leg rose over him, ready to deflect a kick and fight back. But the other horse instead placed his hoof against Maverick's chest with the gentlest of touches, more a suggestion than actual restraint, and spoke in a tone that was all the more terrifying for its complete dispassion. As if he'd had to give this same speech too many times before.

"I was going to fuck you up earlier, you supremely dumb piece of shit," he said. "Teach you a serious fucking lesson about your behaviour. I know your type. Met enough of them doing porn. And a broken nose plus some bruised ribs would do you wonders." He sighed deeply. "But after what I saw there...it'd just make things worse."

"What the fuck do you kno--!" The pressure of Jaeger's hoof increased almost imperceptibly, and Maverick's words choked off. A stone was pressing hard into the small of his back. Ants had begun climbing his head, their legs itching all along his scalp. His fetlock hurt where the Friesian had clocked him.

"All that stuff Patrick said back there," Jaeger continued, "about you and him and everything...he means it. He really means it. I think he is happy, and your friend too. And I think they think you're mostly happy too. That's why they use such a light touch with you." Jaeger stared at Maverick. "They're wrong, of course."

Maverick tried to curse, but had to swallow instead when he heard how shaky his voice was. A coldness started spreading through the Clydesdale's chest, entirely unrelated to the hoof holding him down. He wanted to move, wanted to escape. But instead, his eyes were locked onto the Friesian's face as if frozen there by his icy stare, unable to look away as the dreadful words unfolded.

"You don't even know why you're unhappy, so let me enlighten you: you're not part of what they have." He paused for that to sink in. "You're a hook-up that didn't have the sense to leave. You're a fuckbuddy who thinks he's a partner. A confused colt who took all his notes on relationships from fucking porn." He gave Maverick a pitying look that hurt far more than Maverick's leg. "You want to be Bucephalus because you don't know how to be you."

The tears were the most embarrassing thing that had happened to Maverick that day, but he couldn't stop them. And when he tried to hold back the whimper, it just came out as a snotty snort instead. Jaeger said nothing for a while, letting the young horse thoroughly humiliate himself before finally speaking in an adjusted tone whose unexpected gentleness made the words that much more terrible to hear.

"You don't belong there, boy. You don't belong with them, and you should leave."

He lifted his hoof off of Maverick and walked back into his home, leaving Maverick curled up on the ground with snot pooling on the pavement under his nose. Maverick wanted to fire some words back at the Friesian to show that he wasn't cowed or beaten, but they all fizzled out in his throat. The only sounds he could make were sniffles and coughs.

After Jaeger's front door slammed shut, Maverick stayed on the ground for a minute, trying to collect himself. He gingerly probed where Jaeger's foot had caught him on the fetlock, but there was no real damage. No, this pain wasn't physical. He wiped his nose on his shirt arm and stood up carefully, trying to sort out what he felt from what hurt--before realising it all hurt. Jaeger had gotten under his skin and mercilessly prised off every scale of self-defence he'd built up. Every secret worry he'd ever had about him and Patrick, about Dylan, and about himself. All the things that he couldn't face being true, because he'd tried. Wasn't that enough? He'd tried so hard. He'd fixed things up with Dylan, he'd helped Patrick and Dylan get closer. He'd given them both what they wanted, and he'd given up so much to keep giving them that! Out of love! Out of...

Fear.

"Maverick?"

Dylan held the front door open for him, looking concerned. Maverick stood before it, though he did not remember arriving. As he moved, a woven grass welcome mat rustled beneath his hooves, and he looked down to see the words they'd had worked into it soon after the three of them had agreed to live together. Welcome Home. After he'd assumed his position as their alpha. After he'd thought he'd actually found a new family.

The tears came again, and with a shudder Maverick forced his way past Dylan and into the lounge. Patrick stood slowly at the sight of him, a frown gathering. "Maverick? What happened? I heard yelling. Did he--?"

"Where were you?" Maverick yelled. Except it came out as choked words, not a yell. "Why didn't you help?"

Patrick's guilty expression made Maverick want to hit him. "I...I didn't know you wanted me to--"

"I shouldn't have to ask! You should have done something! You're my dad!"

The look on his face at those words was agony. Maverick turned away, unable to look at him, but only saw Dylan standing in the lounge's doorway with his own concerned look. Dylan, his best friend...but not, obviously, his brother. How could he be? This wasn't his family. It was theirs, and he was just the interloper who fucked them occasionally. And had no other worth, apparently. He forced himself to look at Patrick again.

"Do I...does my job...does anything I do even matter?"

Patrick looked like he had when he used to look at Dylan after he and Maverick had been caught fucking. "Yes, Mav, yes, of course..."

"Don't lie to me," Maverick begged. He sounded like a child again, he realised, his baritone snapped into quavering treble pieces. "He said...he said you just..." He gathered a breath to force the words out. "I'm like a pet to you! You just indulge me!" He threw off Dylan's hand when it landed on his arm. "You don't care what I do!"

"Mav..." Patrick was crying now too. "Please, Mav, I do care. I do. The money doesn't matter, but I wanted you to feel good about yourself. I want to see you grow. We're a family. I love--"

"No!" Maverick screamed. "You just love my dick! There's your family!" He pointed a shaking finger at Dylan. "You love him, and I'm just...I'm just your son's friend that fucks you!"

"Please, Mav...that's not true..."

"Then say it! Say you're my dad!" He clenched his hands, dreading the answer when he saw Patrick's face collapse.

"Mav...it's not that--"

"Say it!"

"I..." Patrick took a shuddering breath and released it. "I can't, Maverick. I'm not your--"

Maverick fled before he had to hear the rest, pushing roughly past Dylan as panic overtook his mind, gulping down huge breaths that didn't seem to have any effect and fighting to open the front door before it finally gave and let him fall outside. Moments later he was in his car, reversing wildly and accelerating down the road, breathing shallowly and trying not to cry. Failing.

Pussy.

It was all falling apart. Every fear he'd had since moving in with the Keeveys was being borne out at once. They'd called him part of their family, but that was just to keep him quiet and satisfied. They'd told him his contributions mattered, but they never had.

What fucking good are you?

Almost none at all, then. Just a walking dick for two lying sluts.

He drove without aim for a while, trapped in an agonising memory loop of Patrick's last words. Only when he realised he was pulling up the handbrake did he see that he'd driven on autopilot to the only other place he felt any connection to. Which was so fucking pathetic.

Pathetic cuck.

He got out of his car and walked up to the Jolli Burger. It was shut for the day, and he ran his fingers across the glass as he walked down the side to the back. He sat in his lunch spot, staring at the trees on the embankment ahead of him and trying to channel the peace and calm the magazine had espoused. He tried to go back to the day before, when he'd sat here feeling merely disgruntled and frustrated, but that just reminded him of Bill, and going home to tell the Keeveys about Bill, and...

You will always be alone.

His head dropped as he began to weep harder, this time from a hundred different awful feelings. He wrapped his arms around himself, heaving with sobs, leaning against the filthy back wall. None of it made sense. He behaved exactly as he was supposed to, and it just didn't work. He was a dom stallion. What was he doing wrong? Why didn't people respect him? What more could he do for them than he was? So much work and effort, and they treated him no differently than anyone else. When they looked at him, they didn't see a stallion; they just saw a horse. A miserable little regular horse.

Powerless pony bitch.

When the sobbing burned out, leaving only emptiness, he got up and used his key to open the staff door of the Jolli Burger. The store room was never locked, and he thumped down onto a box of Jolli Kiddi Toys, pulling a pack of marshmallow treats closer and starting to eat them with mechanical dispassion. The relief food brought would be temporary, but he was hungry, and he didn't fucking care.

Evening was approaching when he finally left the Jolli Burger, locking the staff door behind him. He'd considered sleeping there, but the place would be open tomorrow, and if Mr Lauton caught him, he'd lose even this shitty excuse for a job. He gave a final sniff, dried his face on his shirt, and took stock. He felt numb, which was good. Numb was preferable to reality.

He drove back towards his neighbourhood in a daze that teased the freedom to put off any decisions or thinking until the indefinite future. Instead, he simply focused on the road in front of him: the surety of tarmac and paint. But as he turned into his street and the Keevey house came into view, Maverick felt something lock up tight in his gut. He slowed down, nauseous with growing panic. The closer the house got, the thicker the clenching got until he couldn't bear it anymore. All that played in his mind's eye was the look on Patrick's face as he'd shrugged, superimposed with that same taunting line from Jaeger.

You don't belong there, boy...

With a choked gasp, he swerved out of the road and into the driveway one house up, braking abruptly to avoid running into the back of Jaeger's jeep. He killed the engine and stared out the window at the house before him as the car slowly ticked and cooled. This felt bad, too...but in a different way. More uncertainty than terror. And right now, he'd take that.

Maverick got out, walked up to the front door, and then rang the bell. No sooner had its muffled trill sounded out inside than he regretted it. This was dumb. This was so fucking dumb. The guy had openly admitted he wanted to beat the shit out of him. He might simply deck him the moment he opened the door for the simple revenge of crushing Maverick's face.

Yeah, no. This was a terrible idea. He had to go. If he was quick, he could--

The door swung open, Jaeger's bulk filling the space like a thundercloud. Powerful. Terrifying. Disinterested. Maverick tensed, but no fist came sailing out to knock him to the floor. Instead, the other stallion crossed his arms and looked down at him.

"Wrong house, boy," he said simply.

Maverick felt like a fish trying to breathe air. "I...I know--"

"Then why are you here?"

"I..." Somewhere between the car and now, the words he'd rehearsed had become trapped by the locked thing deep in his gut. Maverick just stared impotently at the Friesian. "I..."

The door started to close on him, and he all but screamed the words.

"I h-have nowhere else to go!"

A crack remained open, and a single baleful blue eye stared at him through it. "You can go next door."

"I can't." He let his head fall from the weight of knowledge. "You...you were right. I don't belong there anymore."

There was silence, but the door widened again. Jaeger stared at him once more, impassive as stone. "And you think you belong here instead?"

Maverick shook his head, mouth twisting in pain. "I don't belong anywhere," he whispered. "I...I'm alone." It was rare for the memory of his parents to make him feel strong emotions after all this time, but now and then it would strike him out of nowhere. Like now. He might have cared earlier about how weak tears would make him look in front of this stud, but that was a drop in the bucket now. He clenched his eyes shut and made fists so hard his nails were hurting his bones, but it wasn't nearly enough to let him escape.

The Friesian gave a sharp whistle, pulling him back to reality. "That's enough of that," Jaeger said. "Look at me." Maverick lifted his head and met the other stallion's eyes, blinking tears away and breathing heavily. "That's all true. Now. Tell me why you're here. At my house."

"Because I don't know anyone else." It was surprisingly easy to say. "Because you said you...you used to...help guys..." He broke off, flustered and unhappy at how poorly he conveyed himself. But the other stallion got the picture.

He stepped out of his door, towering over Maverick. "Fine," he said simply. "You pay rent. You do the chores. You don't get in my way, you look for a more permanent place to stay, and you never try to make things sexual. Got it?" Another wash of tears as pathetic relief flooded through the Clydesdale. He felt too choked up to speak, so he simply nodded. Jaeger stepped aside to let the younger horse enter, and Maverick hurried past him in case he had a sudden change of heart. As he went by, Jaeger sniffed at him and asked, "You got a change of clothing in your car?"

Maverick looked down at his rumpled and stained clothes and then at the Keevey house with dread realisation. Jaeger sighed. "Never mind that then, boy," he said. "We'll figure something out."

***********

They did figure something out - which was to say, the next day, Maverick found neat piles of his clothes waiting on the table in the entranceway when he woke up. He took them with mumbled thanks to Jaeger, who did not attempt to explain how he'd obtained them. In fact, he didn't explain anything to the Clydesdale, including why the zebras didn't try to contact him--despite his car being so obviously parked outside--or what it was he did. It wasn't a regular day job, whatever it was; he only went out for a couple hours a day and never wore anything formal. Not that Maverick cared: as far as he was concerned, the other stallion could be out kicking prams all day as long as he continued to let him stay while the young stallion scoured newspaper ads for a new apartment.

The first few days were dreadful. He left for work as soon as the sun came up to minimise the risk of seeing the zebras, and stayed indoors the rest of the time. If Jaeger gave him chores like shopping or laundry, he did those on his lunch break. When a delivery person rang the bell on his fifth day there, it jangled his nerves so badly that he ran to his bedroom, shut the door and stared at it, shaking and panting. Only after he heard mumbled conversation and the door closing again did he venture outside. The Friesian was standing there when he did so, still holding his parcel and looking at him with an expressionless face. Maverick hurried past him, saying nothing.

But days turned into a week, and then multiple weeks. Things took on a rhythm, and Maverick drowned himself in it. Work was no less inane, and if anything, he was more exhausted by bedtime after having to also cook dinner, clean up after and do both their washing, but that same exhaustion meant he didn't have much time to brood and fell asleep the moment his head hit the pillow. Thoughts of the zebras slowly became less intrusive and less regular. His anxiety simmered down; he finally stopped having the nightmare where he stood glued to the floor in the Keevey living room while Patrick danced around him, cackling and braying.

Jaeger seemed to consider him half-roommate, half-hired help. He would correct him when he did things differently from how the older horse liked them, and occasionally give him additional tasks to add to his roster, but otherwise left him to his own devices. Maverick might have chafed under the lopsided arrangement at any other time, but he found himself appreciating it. Not so much the workload, but the structure. He didn't have to think; he knew what to do. Jaeger, for his part, didn't seem too bothered by the other stallion's presence, to the extent that Maverick stopped trying as hard to find a new apartment. It was nice to have company, honestly--especially when it was so handsome.

The Friesian had been very clear about not trying to make things sexual. After the emotional gutting he'd visited on Maverick, the Clydesdale had anyway been so focused on not pissing him off and getting kicked out that it had never even entered his mind. But as the weeks rolled on and his libido recovered in tandem with his overall mood, it was impossible not to notice the other stallion. He might be a jerk, but there was a good reason he'd won all those awards for porn. Maverick could see it every time he snuck a look at the other horse's crotch.

In time, even general exhaustion couldn't stop Maverick from lying in bed at night and visualising the Jaeger walking back from the shower with nothing but a towel around his waist, water glistening on his flawless muscles, each step showing off his pert ass to fantastic effect. Or remembering how he'd come in from the garden sometimes in nothing but a sweaty vest, his musk so rich Maverick would smell it all the way from his room. The young stallion had to put a pillow over his face to muffle the sound of his orgasms when he jerked off, but it was worth it. Somehow, he found the glimpses of the partially-clothed stallion far hotter than simply seeing him naked on a television screen. Jaeger surely had to be aware of his effect on other males, yet Maverick continued to see him in partial states of undress multiple times a week. Almost as if he was doing it on purpose. And despite looking like every horny stallion's wet dream, he never once brought anyone home to fuck. He must be insanely pent-up.

Someone, the Clydesdale concluded, had needs.

A few days later, Maverick found himself cleaning up after dinner while Jaeger sat on the couch, watching something at a low volume. Jaeger never seemed too invested in whatever was on, but would comment on the events at random intervals and occasionally engage Maverick on things he considered worthy of note.

As the television grumbled away, and Maverick's mind drifted between thoughts of other suburbs to search for an apartment and trying to decide what to make for dinner the next day, a new sound began to filter into his awareness. He didn't even notice it at first, except to register that it was coming through the open window in front of him, until a sudden change in the pitch triggered a memory, and realisation surged.

He froze, holding a plate and scouring brush, listening to the faint but familiar sound of zebra sex. He'd avoided seeing either zebra since moving in with Jaeger, but they must be fucking at the back of the house today. Just having a great time together, clearly. Without him.

Who needs you...?

All the thoughts he'd pushed desperately deep since the Event surged back, overwhelming him, and he clenched his eyes shut, trying to will them away. He didn't know how long he stood there, lost in painful memory, but when an arm appeared over his shoulder to push the window shut, the plate he held was nearly dry. He tried to put it down, but something was wrong with his arm, and it just shivered in mid-air. Jaeger's fingers plucked it from his grasp and stuck it onto the drying rack, then took him by the shoulder and turned him around.

Maverick let himself be led to the couch and sat down, then jumped when a beer was thrust at him. He took that mechanically too, taking first a sip and then a much longer draught, before starting to gulp it down in entire desperate mouthfuls that kept going even as his lungs began to itch for air, even as the bottle grew emptier and this brief reason to not think about the zebras came to an end--

The beer ran out, and Maverick gasped for breath, panting and blinking and staring at the bottle as if hoping it might magically refill and give him another thirty seconds of relief.

"...well, shit," Jaeger sighed. The Clydesdale looked up at him guiltily, wondering how much of his thoughts had been evident to him. The Friesian looked levelly back, then reached across to pluck the empty bottle from his grasp with surprisingly gentle fingers. Then he tucked one leg under himself, settled back into the couch, and pointed the mouth of his own still-full bottle at Maverick.

"They're father and son, aren't they?" he asked.

Maverick started, then tried to recover and look less guilty by staring at one of his hands very intently. "Uh, who?"

"The zebras."

"...no."

Jaeger chuckled. "Sure. So the reason Patrick looked at...Dylan?...Dylan like he would die for him was just because he's hot. And I could smell their stink all over one another when I visited because they hug a lot." He waved away Maverick's horrified expression. "Don't worry. Doesn't bother me, and I'm not gonna tell. In fact..." He gave a leery smile, the most obviously erotic thing he'd done since Maverick had moved in. "It's hot as fuck. Keevey's still got it, and his son definitely got the good genes."

He took a thoughtful drink as he adjusted himself with one hand, then suddenly looked at Maverick. The Clydesdale hadn't been able to stop himself from looking at the other stallion's bulge as he fondled it, and quickly averted his eyes. But instead of snapping at him, Jaeger just chuckled, a smirk riding up his mouth. "I'll make you a deal, boy," he said. "Tell me what I want to know about the zebras, and you can ogle all you want." He raised an eyebrow and spread his legs a little, letting Maverick see the outline of a massive flare in the horse's pants. He'd seen it countless times on video, yet being this close to the actual thing was much more thrilling.

"Okay," he breathed.

Jaeger grinned and stuck a hand in his pants, moving things around until he gave a satisfied sigh. Maverick drank in every twitch and bulging movement. "That's better," the Friesian said. "Alright, so: does Dylan get his dad's cock, or is Patrick a slutty bottom?"

"Uh...both. But Dylan mostly tops his dad."

"Fuck. Nice. Is his son's dick as big as his?"

"Dylan is smaller. But still not average."

"Not surprised about that. Keevey's dick is a monster." Jaeger licked his lips. "Is he a noisy bottom? Fucking love the idea of a son fucking his hot dad..." He nickered, adjusting himself a second time as his rapidly-swelling cock made his pants grow taut.

"He is when I fuck him," Maverick said absently as he watched the other stallion's crotch throb. What a fucking stud. Apart from the peak, muscled physique, his dick was massive: almost longer than Maverick's. More like a third leg than a penis, even by horse standards. And that silky-black skin was so attractive. "He knows I like to hear every inch." It was such a relief to finally just be able to stare at him without having to worry about getting an erection. "You've never heard a sub scream like he does when I flare inside him..."

Jaeger pointed towards the now-closed window. "I think I just did." Heat rose in Maverick's face, and he opened his mouth to retort, then shut it tight and looked away instead. "I kinda knew he was more of a bottom, honestly," Jaeger added. "They make the big equines top on screen, but Patrick always seemed so bored when he was topping. And it's not very scientific, but in my experience, the guys with the biggest dicks are the horniest bottoms."

Maverick looked straight at Jaeger's bulge. "Guess you've never topped once in your life, then." Of course, that wasn't true; he'd seen Jaeger on top plenty of times. But staring at the impressive stallion had made him horny, and it had been weeks since he'd fucked. He wondered if he could get the horse to stand up so he could take a good look at that oh-so-fuckable ass...

Jaeger smiled, taking a drink and then cocking his head. "You didn't smell like either of them, you know," he said. "You just smelled of you."

"What?"

"The zebras. When I was visiting, they smelled of each other, but not you."

The Clydesdale felt his face heat up. "They...they just..." He gritted his teeth and looked away, and Jaeger sighed. He handed the Clydesdale his own half-finished beer before getting himself another, then pulled his legs up under himself and gave Maverick a frank look.

"Wanna talk about it? Get it off your chest." When Maverick put the beer to his lips instead of answering, the Friesian shrugged. "Alright. I'm just gonna say some stuff, then."

He stared up at the ceiling as he spoke. "Patrick's trying to do right. He's a horny one, and he's got a thing for idiot jock drafts, but he's not an idiot himself. Maybe it would be better if he was, and he'd tossed you aside after one sweet fuck instead of keeping you around, but he struggles with the emotive stuff."

Maverick looked at him in disbelief. "Fuck you!" Had this asshole just called him an idiot to his face?

"Am I wrong?" the big stallion said blithely, and Maverick glared at him.

"I'm not a fucking idiot."

"No, about Patrick."

"I..." He glared down at his beer, seeing the zebra's stupid face on it instead of the mascot. "Doesn't matter. I'm not going back."

Jaeger remained quiet for a moment, but when Maverick didn't say more, he flicked his ears and tilted his head at him. "Were they fucking before you, or...?"

Maverick slammed the beer down on the couch arm, spilling a little. "They weren't fucking anyone before me!" he yelled.

"Ah."

"I'm the one that hooked them up. I made it all happen."

Jaeger pursed his lips and nodded. "Ahaaaa...alright, yeah, that makes a lot of sense..."

"Fucking right it does," Maverick snapped. "That's who I am. That's what I do. I'm the fucking alpha who brought them together, and they just...just..." He couldn't finish the sentence. He gulped down the rest of the beer instead, quietly fuming. Next to him, Jaeger continued musing.

"So. Single dad. Out of the business, but probably only because of the kid. Definitely lonely, after all the porn. Single and lonely. Single, lonely...and pining for his son's dick." He took the measure of Maverick with his eyes. "Son's jock friend comes around. A good enough proxy. Shows him some porn, gives him some drinks, fucks him in...hmm. Son's bed?" Maverick looked warily at him as he teased out the unspoken details of the story Patrick had told when he'd visited, and Jaeger just nodded. "Yep. Son's bed. Son...finds out?"

Maverick turned the empty beer bottle in his fingers. "He caught us," he mumbled.

Jaeger took in a sharp breath. "Oh. Fuck. Yeah, okay. So, that all goes to shit, like, immediately. Hmm. Dad hates himself for lusting after both that big fat zebra butt and also that big dumb jock horsecock. Drama, et cetera, fear and loathing, then our hero"--he reached over to lift one of Maverick's dispassionate hands into the air and then dropped it back on the couch--"makes it all right. The story ends, and nobody ever feels marginalised or used again." He smiled thinly.

Maverick got to his feet and fetched another beer from the fridge, cracking it open right there and drinking half in a single motion. His buzz had improved to the point that he didn't care quite as much when Jaeger called him dumb. The horse was talking some particular sort of bullshit now, for sure, but it was better than listening to the zebras fuck.

Jaeger waited for him to sit back down--ignoring his eye roll--before resuming. "But! Big zebra daddy is a needy little sub, like in all his films. His dick is still into the son's friend, though he probably tells himself it's because he owes him for hooking him up with his son. And the friend's an orphan, so he can feel twice as good about giving him a place to stay, like it's just a business transaction they've silently agreed on. And his son probably likes having his best friend around still as well. Everyone wins!"

Maverick drank in silence as Jaeger lowered the arms he'd raised with his triumphant final statement. "But...then," the Friesian said mournfully. "Then school ends, as it must, and life...well, it just carries on, hmm? Mercilessly."

Maverick's mind flashed back to that time, the first month out of school, after the final celebratory holiday. Shit had turned into a downward spiral of collapsing expectations so fucking fast that he'd nearly cracked his tailbone when it ultimately dropped him behind the counter of Jolli Burger, wearing a hair net and a shitty, too-small uniform. He tried to finish his beer, but it suddenly tasted too bitter.

"I bet that comes as a shock to the friend." Jaeger mused. Maverick shot him a look, but the Friesian wasn't even looking at him. "And in the frustration and humiliation of reconciling expectations with reality, it'd be natural to prefer a third option. So he decides that his little dom play-acting role is actually serious business. The one who fucks, rules the roost, or something. And daddy zebra, well...he lets him think that." One blue eye slid to the side to look at Maverick.

"This is where that whole bad-with-emotive-confrontation thing comes out again, see. What he should have done is sat the guy down and reminded him that he's just some fresh-faced colt who happens to have terminal horsedick--which is not a condition that helps with making good choices. Trust me. Instead, he indulges the colt, lets him act the big horse and take control whenever he wants. Probably tells himself the colt's not a bad guy deep down, that he means well, that he can set an example for him. But what he misses is that colt's not even looking at daddy zeeb as a role model anymore, is he? There's someone else..."

Maverick decided to ignore the taste and finish his beer anyway. "Cool story," he grunted, when Jaeger had no more word salad to add to the pile and was just staring at him, like Maverick was some sort of exhibit. "Bet you think you got me all figured out."

Jaeger shrugged. "You're not the first colt I've met, boy."

"Yeah. Well." What was he supposed to say to that? "Would've all been fine if--"

Jaeger leaned forward suddenly, eyes piercing. "Nu-uh."

"What?"

"It's not about you."

Maverick scowled. "It's my story. My life."

"Still doesn't make it about you, though."

"How the fuck is my own life not--?"

"Because life is the sum of those around us," Jaeger snapped. "That's always your issue. You think it's only about you."

"Who the fuck is it about, then?"

Jaeger shrugged. "Others?"

"Hey. It's not like they don't get what they--"

"Don't finish that fucking sentence, boy," the horse growled, and Maverick fell silent. There had been an edge to Jaeger's words that time. "I know you've had a rough time of it," he continued, "and you got some shitty ideas in your head that need fixing, but I'm not gonna put up with you living under my roof for free and then talking him up like he's all that."

Maverick had only heard that level of disdain in the other stallion's words once before, so he immediately knew who he was referring to. Bucephalus, raising his yellow-tinged mane amongst them once again.

Jaeger kept speaking. "You guys used each other, and not in a good way. Honestly think a lot of it's on him, but you're a dumbass as well, so--"

"What? Fuck you! I've never even met Bucephalus!" The yelling made the world spin a little. The stallion was so frustrating. He'd let Maverick look at him all night, still probably wasn't going to fuck him, and made no fucking sense when he talked.

"I'm not talking about Bucephalus anymore, boy," Jaeger grunted tiredly, pulling a knee up onto the couch and letting his head drop back against the cushion. "I swear," he mumbled, "if you're any different to how he was as a colt, I'll be shocked."

Maverick blinked at the comment, frowning as he made sure he'd not misheard and then smiling in delight. Jaeger thought he was like a young Bucephalus? Holy shit. Fuck yeah. Fuck yeah! Now if that wasn't confirmation of his dom status, nothing was. He'd started to see the Friesian as a washed-up failure during the time he'd stayed with him, what with the way he lived his life as if he was someone's boring dad instead of the unrestrained sexual powerhouse Maverick expected. Not to mention the irritating way he always seemed to be holding a conversation with someone else when he talked to Maverick. It was as though he just didn't care that he was a stud.

But saying Maverick was like a young Bucephalus had made it all click.

The way he was half-naked around the house so often, allowing Maverick to learn what a prime porn stud body looked like--and then emulate it. The way he kept talking about Maverick instead of at him, as if he was a product to be developed. The deal he'd just made to learn about the zebras...that hadn't been about the zebras at all! It had just been a clever way to let Maverick know precisely what the big horse liked--and that horniness was back on the table.

His host had been hinting, less and less subtly as time went on, that he had the experience and the desire to get Maverick started down a whole new road: the sort a stud like him was supposed to be on. Jaeger had been in the porn industry for ages; shit, he'd even made a point to mention how he'd spent years developing new talent for his studio. He must have a seriously keen eye for potential. That was why he'd told Maverick that the young stallion didn't belong with the zebras. Of course he didn't; they'd tricked him into a rut. Jaeger had seen that immediately, naturally, and told him exactly what to do to get back on track. He'd dropped that pain on him and left to see if the Clydesdale had the strength to understand and act on it. And when Maverick had, he'd spent a few more weeks testing Maverick's dedication and self-control, confirming his raw, undeveloped talent. And once he was sure...

He's not even looking at daddy zeeb as a role model anymore, is he? There's someone else...

There was.

Fucking love the idea of a son fucking his hot dad...

It was suddenly obvious how he wanted Maverick's training to play out--and the Clydesdale was absolutely fucking into it.

"If we're done talking," Maverick said, trying to contain his growing excitement, "can I have permission to go to my room?"

Two ears twitched in his direction, and Jaeger's brow creased in a small frown at the odd request. He had never required Maverick to ask for permission to do anything. "I...guess?"

Maverick pressed on. "Or maybe you want to talk shit about me some more, huh? Dissing on Bucephalus, the colt you seem to love making fun of but can't stop spending time around." Jaeger's frown furrowed deeper at the mention of Bucephalus, and he turned his head to squint at Maverick. The young stallion relaxed back into the couch, spreading his limbs and flexing his arms, his pecs, even his cock. "Do I detect some jealousy...?" He paused, savouring the moment, anticipating the outcome. "Dad?"

Jaeger snorted in surprise, and his frown vanished, replaced by...something else. A moment later he pushed himself to his feet, staring down at Maverick as he towered over him, and the Clydesdale's heart froze. But the Friesian had an appraising look in his eyes instead of a vengeful one. When he simply folded his arms and flared his nostrils at the younger horse, Maverick's cock twitched in glee. That's right, stud. I figured it out. And he had a secret weapon he was sure Jaeger wouldn't be anticipating: Patrick had told him about all the fantasies he used to have before he'd finally hooked up with Dylan. The Clydesdale had an excellent idea of what would press Jaeger's buttons.

"Do I need to go and shower so you can 'accidentally' walk in on me right after I step out, huh, Dad?" he teased, his heart starting to pound. "Or are you going to forget one of your special movies"--he nodded at the bank of DVDs on the shelf representing Jaeger's entire porn filmography--"in the machine again for me to find?" That one made the bulge in Jaeger's pants twitch, which was so fucking hot that Maverick almost forgot what he was saying. "That's right, Dad," he continued. "You're not very good at covering your tracks. And since you're probably desperate to know: yeah, I've seen your dick. It's not bad. Mine's bigger, though. I bet that's why you try to spy on me, right? You're all hard and horny over the idea of seeing your son's huge cock."

"Boy..." Jaeger breathed, but he struggled to say anything more. His body talked for him; he was panting, his eyes were wide, and his ears were locked like radar dishes onto Maverick. The young stallion had a small, smug smile on for effect, but all he wanted to do was whoop and grin. This was incredible. Why hadn't Jaeger said something sooner?

"I can't help that I'm such a stud, Dad," Maverick confessed. "Your genes are just that good. The question is...what are you gonna do about it?" He spread his legs wider, letting Jaeger see his cock snaking itself down his pants leg. "Because I think we need to spend some serious one-on-one time together. Call it training time." Maverick smirked, calling to mind an image of Jaeger's orgasmic face from his encounter with the real Bucephalus. "Just like on your special videos."

Jaeger snorted hard, eyes glittering, and gave Maverick a slow smile that looked insanely hot on his handsome face. When he lowered his head, letting his dark mane fall loosely around it like some kind of dark angel, Maverick almost whinnied. "You say that, boy," he growled, "but you don't really know what it means."

"I know what it means, Dad." Visions of Jaeger spread-eagled on his bed as Maverick slammed and slammed and slammed into him. "It means you, teaching m--teaching Bucephalus how to be the best."

"Mmmh..." Jaeger's head tilted to the side, and he rolled his shoulders. "The best? I can teach him to be better, but I don't know if that will make a difference with a colt as difficult as my...son." The breathy word washed over Maverick. "I'm not the same horse as on those videos, boy. That's me being nice. But nice won't sort you out, will it, gelding? Hmm." He was going all-in on the faux insults. Interesting. Perhaps Maverick could use them on him in turn when he was fucking the Friesian's ass later. "Maybe the side that's needed," Jaeger concluded, "is the one with experience dealing with a smug fuck who thinks his good looks and fat dick give him license to be a prick."

Maverick's cock twitched at the Friesian's words. Jaeger found him good-looking? Well, of course he did, but he'd never said as much before--

The other stallion snapped his fingers a few times in front of Maverick's face. "Hey! Listen to your fucking dad when he's talking to you, Bucephalus!" Being called Bucephalus by this stud of a stallion, right after he'd complimented his looks, was such a fucking rush. Maverick tried his best to look angry, despite the excitement thrumming through him.

"Yes, Dad."

"And stand up when I'm talking to you!" Maverick did so, and Jaeger snorted a hot breath into his face and looked the other stallion's body up and down. "Pretty muscles and a big dick can't be your answer to everything, Bucephalus," he murmured, brushing a lock of mane out of his face and licking his lips.

"I bet it's the answer to why my cumrags keep going missing, though," Maverick replied in the same soft tone. "If you want me to cum on your face, Dad, you should just ask. It smells better fresh anyway."

Jaeger stuck a hand down his pants and fondled himself. "You're too fucking cocky, son," he said, his expression making a lie of his words.

"Because my cock's so fucking big, I bet only your ass can fit it, Dad." Maverick started fondling himself, groaning at how sensitive his cock felt. Fuck. If only Jaeger had been more obvious, the two of them could have been fucking weeks ago already. "I bet that's what you're dreaming of when you jerk off that tiny dick."

Jaeger's face flew forward to stop less than an inch from Maverick's, nostrils wide, lips curled up just short of a snarl. "You what, Bucephalus?" he whinnied. "You cocky little shit! I fucking gave you that dick, son! You think it gives you license to treat me like one of your little weekend fucks that you just toss out the door when you're done?" He was so fucking hot when he acted mad. "I've fucking tried with you, Bucephalus, but you just won't fucking listen. So it'll have to be actions over words with you." The pause was far too short for Maverick to respond before Jaeger threw his arms in the air. "Hey, everyone! This pony-dicked motherfucker thinks he's fucking stallion enough to stand up to his dad! He'd better be super, super fucking sure he's ready to handle everything I'm gonna fucking do to him!" Jaeger paused yet again, his eyes two thin cerulean circles around endless black. His next words were liminal, spoken in a dangerous growl that made the hairs on Maverick's arms stand up and his balls clench as a delicious shiver ran through him.

"Is he?"

Fhhuuuuuuuck. Flaring inside this stud was going to be so fucking hot. Maverick straightened, pushing up slightly on his hooves to meet Jaeger's eyes without having to tilt his head, and huffed. "I'm a stud fucking stallion, aren't I, Dad? I can handle anything."

There was a flash of pure horny need on Jaeger's face, but an instant later, only a disappointed father's frown remained. A sheen of sweat coated his muzzle, and in the close air of the den, his scent had grown powerful. When Maverick's lip lifted in unconscious flehmen to smell him better, Jaeger's hand whipped out of his pants and gripped the younger stallion's jaw, holding him still. "Don't you fucking flehmen at me, son," he growled. "I am not your weekend cumdump."

Maverick wanted to giggle at the foreshadowing, but Jaeger's grip on his mouth was too firm. It also smelled powerfully of stallion musk, and Maverick found himself trying to snort it with deep breaths. It was so unlike either Patrick's or Dylan's. This was prime stud smell, and he'd know: he could see the Friesian's nostrils flared and settling in regular motion as he took in Maverick's own scent. "When last did you shower, Bucephalus?" the Friesian asked. "You stink." He shoved Maverick away. "Go to your room. And put those clothes in the wash."

Maverick--Bucephalus--smirked. "Yes, Dad."

Jaeger's eyes followed him as he left the room and headed to his own. The only instruction he'd received was to change--well, remove--his clothes, but he'd understood what Jaeger meant.

He quickly stripped off and stepped into the shower, grunting as the hot water hit his skin and casually resting his palm on top of his sheath. He could still smell Jaeger, could still feel the older stallion's firm hand gripping him. That had been nice. And the stuff he'd said...what a fucking turn-on. Telling him that he had a fat Clydesdale dick and pretty muscles. Oh, he wanted his ersatz son so bad. He would scream like a mare when Maverick bottomed out inside of him. "Tonight," he whispered, "Bucephalus is gonna be a Clydesdale. Daddy." He loved saying that word, he realised.

Bucephalus turned his head to let the hot water hammer the other side of his neck and tightened the hand on his sheath. His dick had dropped a little, squirming pleasantly against his palm, and the stallion sighed and stroked it. He preferred jerking off in bed--hot water and stallion cum was a nightmare combination--but there was a lot to be said for the feeling of tendrils of heat running down his muscles. Dripping off the tips of his rock-hard nipples. The thick steam making him a little lightheaded. It had its own charm--

"Bucephalus!"

The thunderous yell from what felt like mere centimetres away made Maverick jump, hooves slipping on the textured tiles and almost causing him to crack his head open on the wall.

"Get out here right now!"

Maverick fumbled the tap off and paused, heart hammering. He'd forgotten a towel, he realised. Shit! He couldn't go out as naked as a...

Wait. He shook his head, remembering. Yes. Of course he could. Because Bucephalus was a Clydesdale tonight.

Bucephalus wouldn't--didn't--care about being nude. Why would he? He was a porn star, and his body was perfect. He wanted people to see it. And so, when he pushed the shower door open and stepped out, he made sure that his cock was visibly dropped before he sauntered into the room to stand before his father like a proud erotic statue. Jaeger had changed outfit since dismissing him, now wearing grey sweatpants and a muscle shirt that almost had Maverick forget what they were doing and just gawk at how well it accentuated the older stallion's incredible physique. His pecs alone...fuck, the Clydesdale needed to work out his chest more to try and get that big. His father's shirt also revealed a few fine tufts of hair poking out from under its wearer's armpits, which was surprising. Almost all stallions--Bucephalus included--shaved there until just a fine, fur-like layer remained. That Jaeger didn't explained why his scent always seemed more robust than expected.

Bucephalus struck a pose, hands on hips, body framed to show off every fantastic angle. "What?" he snapped. "You told me I stink, Dad. So I'm showering. Or did you just plan this to see me naked?"

The Friesian had a glower on his face that made him look very handsome in a very dangerous way. It made the younger stallion want to flehmen once again when that glower was dragged over his wet, naked body with leery slowness. It paused at his crotch, taking in the thick, mottled cock hanging loosely from its sheath and the big pink balls underneath them, and Bucephalus made them bounce for daddy's pleasure--the pleasure that was very obviously tenting his sweatpants right now. The Clydesdale felt pride warm his every extremity. Yeah. That's right. You're not the only stud in this house, daddy.

Then Jaeger pulled some scraps of paper from a pocket and slapped them against Maverick's face before tossing them aside. "What the fuck are these?" he hissed. "Photos? Of me? Are you fucking spying on your father when he masturbates, son?" He grabbed Maverick's wet mane and pulled the stallion's head back, making the horse gasp as his tender throat was exposed to the hot snorts of breath from Jaeger's muzzle, placed right above his skin. "After all the shit you gave me out there? You're a fucking dirty little incestuous pervert too?" Maverick started opening his mouth to add something to the exchange, but Jaeger just pulled harder on his mane.

"Shut up, whore," he snarled. "I don't need excuses. I can see the photos. You're a filthy little daddy-lover, hmm? Wanking every night over pictures of a proper stallion's cock? Or do you sneak out and spy through my door, too? Jerking off right outside while your dad gets his rocks off? This what you do after you're left high and dry and alone by all those other stallions you fuck once and never hear from again? Feel all butthurt because your big dick can't seem to make them like you, so you dream about daddy's bigger dick showing up and making things right every time?"

Maverick suddenly felt like he was back in the shower, with needles of hot water slamming into his skin. He wasn't sure he liked this angle. It was a little too real. Bucephalus wavered, but managed to sneer a suitable retort.

"Except my dick's definitely bigger than yours, daddy."

Jaeger chuckled gloatingly and nosed at the younger stallion's neck. "So wrong, son." Bucephalus gasped as a hot tongue pressed against his skin, sliding up from his clavicle to the small of his throat. "Wrong in every possible way." A finger found Bucephalus' nipple and teased it, making the young stallion grunt and snort with pleasure.

The hand gripping the Clydesdale's mane released it and pressed down on his head instead. "On your knees," Jaeger commanded. Bucephalus resisted, but the Friesian's strength was enough to brute-force him down until he glared up at his father from the floor. "Your big problem, son," the older stallion noted, "is that you won't accept when you're wrong. Have you ever sucked cock in your life? Of course not. Sucking cock's not a dom thing to do, is it?" Jaeger spat the word out as if it was poison. "You're wrong about that, like so much else. It's time to learn, son: sometimes, you suck a dick. Not because it proves anything, but because it makes someone else feels good. Case in point: your father."

"Fuck you, Dad."

"I won't rule it out." Bucephalus blinked, caught unawares by that, and Jaeger nodded. "See how easy it is? Instead of stamping around like a petulant child, you can just...be nice. Offer to do things for your partner. Hmm?"

"Fine." Bucephalus shrugged. "Bend over then and allow me to fuck your--" A hand shot out and wrapped itself around the Clydesdale's muzzle, silencing him. He instinctively tried to yell but couldn't separate his teeth enough to get his tongue out. His father's strength was demonstrably greater; the bones of his face already stung where Jaeger's strength gripped them. Not that Bucephalus knew what he wanted to say precisely. The more significant part of him wished to surge to his feet, slap the other stallion across the face and tell him to piss off. He glared at the Friesian, trying to channel that rage through his look, but he couldn't quite manage it. The fury was there, easily accessible...but the eyes looking back down at him were cool, calm, and collected. His very opposite. This stallion didn't seem to indulge his power as openly as he could; he used it carefully, metering it out, almost as an afterthought. It unnerved Maverick, but it excited Bucephalus. There was control to be learned there. A sort of power in itself.

He could be daddy's naughty son for now, bide his time, and learn.

A thumb stroked along the top of Bucephalus' nose. "Son," the Friesian stated matter-of-factly, "you can glare poison at me all you fucking want. If you speak to me like that again, you will regret it. Is that clear?" The hand on Bucephalus' muzzle tightened and began pulling it forward. "You're more than a few leagues distant from earning the privilege of telling anyone what to do. You need to work your way up to it. Right from the very fucking bottom." With the young stallion's nose almost touching his belly, he tucked a finger into the elastic of his sweatpants and pulled them down. He had no underwear on; Bucephalus' nose--firmly aimed at his father's crotch--got a waft of solid stallion musk. The dark opening of the Friesian's sheath yawned at Bucephalus, promising an immensity of cock. One he was quite familiar with from all the times he'd enjoyed his sire's special videos.

He called to mind his favourite moment, with the bigger, older version of himself fucking his father. The look of utter pleasure on Jaeger's face had entranced him. Until then, he'd only seen his father fucking other males--but there he was, being fucked himself and clearly loving it. Of course, it took his older self--the most masculine, dominant stallion he'd ever seen--to top him. His father wasn't a weak horse; he obviously just knew when he was bested. Of course, he'd had the opportunity to pay the other Friesian back later, but the first time was the most intense. Bucephalus had fantasised many times about fucking Jaeger himself, just like in the video...and now, incredibly, he would have his chance. Once this amusing attempt at paternal control was over, he would push his handsome, muscled sire down onto his bed and fuck him so raw that people would get salmonella from eating his ass. That hot, tight doughnut would get added to his tally. As was his right. Every hole was up for grabs to a stud. Fucking holes is what studs did. Fucking, cumming, and moving on! They didn't...they...

Can't move on if you have nowhere to go.

The unwelcome thought intruded through his haze of arousal like a cold shower on a warm day, and Maverick's body jerked. Jaeger read that as resistance and chuckled. "Second thoughts after seeing what your dad's packing, son?" he teased. "Well, too late now. You love to tease and act the big horse, don't you, Bucephalus? Well, daddy doesn't tease. I simply am." He kept pulling Bucephalus closer until his son's nose just brushed against the soft, smooth skin, and Bucephalus let him. He felt a little unnerved, thanks to his own annoying brain, and took a few deep breaths to settle himself, smelling his father's pure scent each time. The best thing to smell to help calm down, at least. Something distractingly horny to focus on. As Jaeger's other hand gripped the back of his head, the Clydesdale shut his eyes and concentrated on the musk of male horse. The hand holding his head was just as firm as the one on his muzzle, anyway, so he had no option. His father was just so strong. Like a fucking plough horse.

"You've been a bad horse, Bucephalus," Jaeger said, and Bucephalus' cock twitched. The hand wrapped around his muzzle tightened, almost to the point of pain. The Clydesdale snorted reflexively, filling his nose with the scent of mature stallion sheath and ball sweat. It reminded him, he realised, of the changing rooms at school...just a lot better. "You can become a good horse, though," Jaeger continued, "if you listen to your dad and do as he says. Don't make me regret the day I squirted you out of my nutsack, son." The hand wrapped around the back of Bucephalus' head started pushing it forward again. "It all starts here, son. Deep in daddy's crotch. You're about to do your fucking best to please me. Eat daddy's sheath, slurp his balls, and be a good horse for once. Make him proud...but mostly, make him hard."

The hand keeping Bucephalus' muzzle shut let go. A moment later, his face was pushed into the hairless, musky depths of Friesian stallion crotch. The intensity of the aroused stud's odour flooded Maverick's nose, and his head whirled, dispelling all thoughts except about how sexually available his father was. Finally. He'd never paid much attention to male scent before; the guys at school had mostly stunk, Patrick kept fastidiously clean, and his own smell barely registered with him. This was something else, though, and it was good. It got him nice and horned up. The closest thing that came to mind was how his hand smelled after he'd been jerking off for a while, just much more vital. He took another breath of Jaeger, pushing his nose even more forward. Jaeger grunted happily at that and squirmed, spreading his legs a little.

Bucephalus' nose circled his father's crotch, exploring it curiously, his hot exhalations making the older stallion moan. "Oh, fuck, son...that's it...you hot stud..." Bucephalus grinned; his father had probably never experienced another stallion making him feel this good, this easily. He tried to press both nostrils right into the hollow of his sheath; it wasn't wide enough for his whole muzzle, but that didn't matter. He could smell his father's cock slumbering inside its home. Cockscent was definitely the most significant component of the Friesian's overall smell. Clean sweat, too, and a touch of grass. But there was something else, almost as powerful as the cockscent. Something earthier.

He dipped his head under Jaeger's sheath and nosed at his balls, feeling them pull up at the light touch. Yes: here it was. Ball musk, the missing piece. They smelled of stud stallion still, but different once more. So many variations on the theme. He wondered if he smelled this fucking good up close. No wonder Patrick was addicted to him.

Except he's not. Not anymore.

Bucephalus clenched his eyes shut more, snorting angrily at the painful memories. Fuck that zebra! Patrick didn't fucking matter. He was a pale fucking copy of Jaeger, let alone Bucephalus. Jaeger wouldn't have let it go down like that if he'd been on the other side. Jaeger got him. The massive stallion knew how to stand up for himself, and he'd teach Bucephalus. That's what fathers did.

He'd stopped breathing on or nosing at Jaeger's nuts for a while, and he felt the fingers at the back of his head tighten until they encircled his skull, holding him firmly. Protectively, even.

"You don't need to overthink it, son," Jaeger said. "It's not a hard equation. Tongue plus balls equals happy horse." He pushed Bucephalus against his heavy balls more firmly. "Now lick them, Bucephalus. Get your mouth full of my taste, and know it's your porn star daddy's taste. Those big boys worked hard to make you. Show them how grateful you are. You'll like how they taste, I promise. Sluts like you always do."

Bucephalus tensed for an instant at the slur, the well-worn rage slithering out to do battle...but then it evaporated. Jaeger's balls smelled so fucking good, and they were helping him to forget. He was in control for now, but Bucephalus' turn would come. In fact, it was quite natural: Dad was a serious stud, just like his son, so of course he could be dominant when required. Bucephalus hadn't folded. He wasn't weak. He was simply--for now--under the control of a much stronger, bigger stallion who wanted something from him...but would give up much more in return. Just like in his films. The Clydesdale could almost feel the Friesian's beautifully tight hole swallowing his cock already.

It wasn't defeat. It was compromise.

The first taste of his father's testicles was transformative. His spit glistened on the skin of Jaeger's scrotum, oozing into the wrinkles and being soaked up before the next wipe of Bucephalus' tongue brought it back for his mouth to savour. His father's taste was strong enough to coat the inside of his mouth; within moments, all he could taste was stallion balls. Each one was massive, hanging heavily in its sack like a pool ball in a sock. Bucephalus licked attentively at where the nutsack met the sheath, delighting in the dusky flavours there, then travelling further, tongue-tip following each gully of folded flesh down until it smoothed out across the surface of a ball. Those he slurped at like a starving colt, delighted to find them feeling even larger in person than they'd seemed in Dad's videos. They were the ultimate source of a stallion's power; of course his father's would be huge. He'd always enjoyed looking at them when he watched Jaeger fuck, especially whenever the camera caught the sex from underneath. The way they'd swing and smack against some other stallion's taint as his muscled god of a horsefather grunted and pounded into his sub. Fuck...

"Good boy, Bucephalus," Jaeger purred, and the younger stallion's cock twitched. He'd dropped at some point, he realised with surprise. "Daddy likes that." The big stallion still had a hand on the back of Bucephalus' head, but it was purely decorative. The Clydesdale was enjoying his exploration of his stud father's nuts. Such potent engines of creation...how could he not? He'd have balls this big someday. And even bigger cumshots to go with them. Even more horse seed to flood the asses he fucked.

"Remember what you said earlier, son?" Jaeger asked casually. His fingers entwined in Bucephalus' mane and pulled his head back to let his son look up at him from his knees with wide eyes. "Hmm?"

Bucephalus stared blankly, trying to remember, until his father sighed with a touch of annoyance. "You said your dick's bigger, didn't you?" He cocked an eyebrow, and the Clydesdale nodded. Then his father's eyes dropped, and Bucephalus followed them to his sire's sheath...where something was waking up.

His dad's cock didn't so much drop from his sheath as shoulder its way out, its single big eye glaring. The self-control learned from years of porn had allowed Jaeger to keep from dropping until now, but that control apparently didn't stop him from chubbing up. The penis looked impossibly thick, almost more limb than appendage. He wasn't that thick everywhere, Bucephalus knew. But he still took a sharp breath to see the size of the horse's cockhead up close, like a huge, dark mushroom. So dark: every inch the same gorgeous, silky, satin-of-night colour as the rest of his father's body.

As if putting on a show, Jaeger's flare hung by itself for a few beats before falling like an anchor from the sheath's opening, slithering down and trying to reach the floor. Almost succeeding. The shaft behind it was much less thick--merely turgid--but even so, it seemed endless. When at last it stopped dropping and simply was, like some unbelievable natural phenomenon, Bucephalus' own impressive horseprick retreated an inch or so in shocked embarrassment. It...wasn't possible. He'd seen all the videos. They were both large stallions, both big even for their species, but...he'd been sure! He'd checked!

"How...how big are--?"

"Twenty-two inches," Jaeger said with understandable smugness.

Judging size on film wasn't a science, of course, what with camera angles and foreshortening and stuff, but that was why he'd measured himself against Jaeger's official measurements. Nineteen inches. That's what it said. The Clydesdale knew he was--objectively, officially--longer than his father...unless, for some incomprehensible reason, the Friesian had underreported his own size. Cut a few inches off his official porn numbers to...well, why the fuck would a porn star ever do that? It made no sense!

Except, perhaps it did, in a way Bucephalus felt in the pit of his stomach as he stared at a cock longer than some people's limbs. No stallion would want to compare themselves to this reality because no stallion could ever match up. So fudge the numbers a bit and make others feel like they had what it took to swing swords with their species' best--even though they demonstrably did not. Jaeger definitely belonged in porn, and he definitely was bigger than his son.

Which galled Bucephalus something fierce.

The hand on his head scratched his mane. "Who's bigger, son?" Jaeger murmured. Bucephalus looked away and waited for his father to answer the question for him, but instead, the Friesian merely repeated it. "I asked, whose dick is larger, Bucephalus?" The hand on his head wasn't scratching his mane anymore. "Which of us two has the fattest, longest horsecock, boy?"

Bucephalus snorted, frustrated and angry. "You," he said shortly.

"Correct. Which means that...? Yes." He tapped a finger on his son's muzzle with each word. "You. Were. Wrong." The younger horse shrugged the finger off in annoyance, and his father gripped his mane and chuckled unpleasantly. "Hmm? What's that, son? I didn't hear you."

"...I guess."

"I'd like to hear it in full, son."

"What?" The fucking stallion was doing that thing again where he didn't talk sense. Fucking idiot.

"Say all three words, please." The black in his eyes had shrunk to pinpricks, even as his monster cock swayed between his legs, jostled by every motion of his thighs. "Like you mean it." His free hand reached down to heft his shaft thoughtfully; black inches of dick spilt over his fingers and swayed hypnotically before Bucephalus. He was smiling just a little.

Silence reigned. Bucephalus pulled his eyes away from the cock before him and looked up a Jaeger, frustrated by his father's mercurial mood. He'd literally been kissing his balls; what now? He tried to lean in to lick his cock, but the fingers in his mane pulled him back and Jaeger tutted. "No. That's not what I want now, son. You know what I want."

"I..." This was stupid. So what if his father's dick was bigger? That hardly merited an apology. The Clydesdale set his jaw and met his father's eyes, answering him with silence. Jaeger stared back, unmoving....and then a heavy stallion flare the size of a shotput came swinging in from the side and smacked into Maverick's face.

It was like being hit by a barely-clenched fist; the shock of it was more stunning than the brief pain. "What the fuck?" Maverick screeched. He ripped his mane free of the other stallion's clenched fingers--that hurt more than the flare had, honestly--and stumbled to his feet, feeling his cheek and checking his fingertips in case it had somehow drawn blood. "That hurt, asshole! I didn't agree to being fucking hit!"

"Didn't you?" Jaeger's small smile didn't waver. "That was just motivation, son. Just say the words, hmm? Three easy words."

"I'm not your son! This isn't real, fucker!" Maverick clenched his hands, furious at everything. Everyone. Himself. "I thought...I thought you might get it."

"Whose son are you, then?"

Maverick rocked backwards a little, then spat in Jaeger's face. "Piece of shit. Picking on orphans for fun, or what?"

Jaeger wiped the spit off with a calm expression. "Just the ones that give the rest of us a bad name."

The remaining water droplets on Maverick's skin suddenly felt a lot colder. "Fuck you. I'm leaving. Find another idiot to play your stupid game with."

"Where will you go, son?"

"I'm not your fucking son. And it's none of your fucking business." Maverick pushed past the Friesian and pulled his drawers open, pulling out clothes and piling them on top of the dresser.

"Not back to the zebras, surely? I told you: you don't belong there."

Maverick's breathing became more panicked. "Shut the fuck up. You don't know where I belong." The lowest drawer was a little stuck, and the Clydesdale swore as he fought to open it, before simply pulling on it with gritted teeth until the handle broke and came free. Off-balance, he staggered backwards and fell against Jaeger. The older stallion caught him, his muzzle next to Maverick's head. He only had to murmur for Maverick to hear what he said.

"That makes two of us, then."

Maverick swung a hoof backwards, catching the Friesian on the shin with a satisfying impact, but apart from a grunt the other horse showed no sign he'd even noticed. Maverick pulled free of his grasp and turned around, hating the small smile that sat on his host's face as if it had been painted there. "You don't fucking know anything!" the younger stallion screamed, his voice cracking midway. "I thought you'd fucking get it, but you're just like them! Just fucking leave me alone! I don't fucking deserve any of thi--!"

He didn't even get a chance to finish the word. As if he'd cast a magic spell, Jaeger transformed before him in an instant. The slight smile snapped away like a switch had been flipped, replaced by a snarl that was a match for any predator's, and his hand slammed palm-first into Maverick, making him stumble backwards.

"Yes you do!" Jaeger roared at deafening volume. Maverick crashed into the dresser behind him and stared in horror at the suddenly-enraged stallion before him. "You fucking asshole! This is exactly what you deserve, Bucephalus!"

Oh, fuck. Oh fuck. The horse had lost his fucking mind. Maverick clasped his breastbone where it throbbed from the force of Jaeger's hit and whimpered. "I'm not Bucepha--!"

"You are!" Jaeger snarled, a flat hand cutting through the air to underscore his words. "I don't care what your fucking name is, boy! I don't care what colour your mane is, or where you live, or how old you are. You are him. You are a clone of that slimy, lonely, desperate horse, and I hate you for it!" And he truly did; Maverick had never seen such a venomous glare, or heard words so filled with acrimony. "All you have is a big dick, and you think that gives you value? You are pathetic. All stallions have dicks, but it takes a real dickhead to think a big one makes you better than the rest of us."

Maverick's heart thundered in his chest, and terror locked his limbs. "I--"

"Shut up, Bucephalus!" Jaeger screamed. His spittle sprayed wildly across Maverick's chest. "I've hated you so much, do you know that? I don't fucking care if that means I'm not the bigger horse, the responsible one, for once. I just want to see some fucking remorse on your smug face. Some hint that you actually fucking understand how many people you've exploited, even if I know you'll never actually change. So do you, you selfish prick? Do you ever think about any of those guys you hurt over the years?"

There was no hoof on Maverick's chest this time, and yet he still felt as if he was suffocating. He couldn't make his lungs work. His vision was narrowing.

Jaeger's expression turned to disgust. "Do you even know what I did to enable you? How fucking sick it makes me feel now? All the times I walked past your room to find some first-timer standing in the corridor with their clothes in their hands, smelling of semen and confusion, sniffling and disillusioned? They looked up to you, you piece of equine garbage, and you just used them." Jaeger turned a little, kicking savagely at a cushion on the ground, and Maverick took the opportunity to slide to the side, away from him. Instead, he tripped over something on the floor and fell backwards onto the bed, panting in fear as he looked up at the raging stallion. "I took them aside and made it as right as I could. Lied as much as I had to. Oh, he's busy. Oh, he's sick. Oh, he's had a bereavement."

He spat onto the floor, mouth twisting sourly. "The fantasies I spun to fix your fucking messes were ten times anything we did on screen. But fuck me...someone had to. They only knew you from the porn, and you used them. You used them! You prick! You didn't care if you left them broken. But I did. Because if they went home after you, and that emptiness your hateful dick left inside them turned them into small versions of you...? I couldn't live with that. Better they remembered the false Bucephalus, the one you pretend to be, than for me to say...sorry." He started to laugh, then choked it off. "Sorry that you met your hero. Sorry that he's the worst horse I know. Sorry that the only thing he's good at is passing on his pain to others."

The hot tears blurred Maverick's vision, turning Jaeger into a dark vagueness, a thundering storm cloud. His words landed like thunderbolts that shattered Maverick's creaky self-image. The Friesian was right, again. At his core, Maverick had become Bucephalus...because he wanted to be. He wanted to be the one who shut the door and forgot. That was what doms did as far as he'd cared--as far as he'd wanted to care. They got what they wanted and left before it cost them anything. Before they had to admit to themselves that they had nothing else to give. He'd aimed for that, and hit his target perfectly. Now he never had to be the other guy, and the only price was being utterly and miserably alone.

What is the point of a stallion...if he's the fucking worst?

The memories tormented him. He remembered Dylan, his best friend, looking at him with an expression of numb, disbelieving betrayal from his bedroom door. He remembered the smirks and silent laughter of Bill and his friends, making fun of the horse too weak to do anything except flip burgers. And now--the memory still so fresh it almost screamed when he touched it--he saw Patrick, the guy he'd tried his best to make happy, telling him that the family he'd said they had was a huge lie. There was no "Stud Family". There was the Keeveys, and then there was Maverick, and Jaeger was right. He didn't belong there.

He didn't belong anywhere, because he was alone. And deserved to be.

"I'm sorry," he whimpered. The words sat like pus on his lips after what Jaeger had said, but he didn't have a choice. These were the words that wriggled free of the cracks in his spirit, the ones he'd tried to suffocate for months. The self-loathing followed, slicking over all his thoughts like rancid oil and making him want to curl up and die. "I t-tried...I know I...I...used..." A horrible, nauseating bitterness flooded his mouth as he suddenly saw himself elsewhere, in someone else's mind, lying on the ground and begging another horse not to take something he desperately needed from him. It would be ironic if it wasn't agony. How had Dylan felt this...and not utterly rejected him? Maverick had read submission in his weakness, but he realised now that it was beyond cruelty to expect strength in a moment like this. And Patrick: is this how he'd felt every time Maverick had ignored him for fear of being exposed? Why had he kept coming back to him? How had the zebra not come to loathe him?

His mind's eye flew through months of memory, of him and Patrick and Dylan, and all he saw tore at his heart and dug his pit of despair ever deeper. He had sought to become an unassailable dom stallion...and succeeded far too well.

From under the mountain of pain atop him, he realised the room was utterly silent but for his pathetic noises. His head was buried in his hands, and he didn't even try to look up. He could not bear the further agony of Jaeger's expression. Indeed, when Jaeger's hand came to rest on him, he flinched violently and heard the other stallion take a sharp breath. "P...please don't...kick me out," he sniffed. "I don't h-have...anywhere...t-to..."

"Ah, fuck, kid," the Friesian said, his voice concerned. There was a pause, and then a blanket was draped over Maverick's shoulders before Jaeger sat down next to him and put an am around him, grunting. "I'm not gonna kick you out, kid. I thought you could..." Maverick dared to look over at him at the vast sigh he gave, and saw the Friesian rubbing a hand over a drawn face. "I thought," Jaeger said, "this would get through to you. But...ugh." He made a disgusted sound. "Look at me, repeating the same fucking cycle as him. Abusing some poor colt." He looked squarely at Maverick with a strained look on his face. "You're not the only one with a bit of him in you, kid. If it helps, I don't know if it ever goes away..." Then he shook his head angrily. "No. Fuck. What I mean is: I'm sorry." He looked at Maverick again. "I'm sorry I did that to you. And you know that's from me because he never apologises."

"...I never apologise," Maverick said dejectedly. He felt like shivering even under the blanket. "I...I don't want to be like..." He took a shuddering breath and looked at the older stallion with uncertain eyes. "Can you...fix me?"

Jaeger nodded and patted Maverick's shoulder again. "Put some clothes on, kid," he said, "and let's talk."

***********

A fresh set of clothes and some very black coffee later, the two stallions sat on the couch in Jaeger's living room. Maverick clasped the mug in his hands, taking little sips of coffee and staring numbly ahead. He had no idea what came next, but he knew it would involve further hurt. He had hidden from a lot of pain and fear for a very long time, and now that it had caught up with him, it was going to exact its cost slowly and mercilessly.

That thought made him shoot a look at Jaeger, who was sitting across from him, watching him. The stallion was still wearing the same clothes, and Maverick was amazed to find that part of him was unaffected enough to still feel some attraction to him. Not the part connected to his dick, though; that felt broken and unresponsive. More the part that desperately wanted to not feel alone.

"When you showed up at my door," Jaeger said suddenly, "you said you knew I helped guys out before." Maverick nodded. "You meant the mentoring?" Nod. "Right. Well. Here's the thing: yes, I helped mentor guys. But not for, like, life or anything. For film. Showed them how to act like the perfect boyfriend, like they loved nothing more than being in front of the camera for the benefit of someone else. They needed to act like showing off their bodies was all they'd ever wanted to do, because that's porn." Jaeger held up a finger to emphasise the point. "Act. It was hardly ever who they became. They didn't actually want to be that person. Do you know how many of them are straight? I hear even Bucephalus has a son out in some bumfuck county."

Maverick stared, uncomprehending. "But the...guys that B...that he would fuck...you..."

Jaeger shook his head slowly. "That was mostly just redirected hate, kid. I'm sorry. I'm far from any sort of guardian angel. I hate that asshole so much that it just felt good to undermine him by not letting him ruin even a handful of lives. Lots of guys only do one shoot. If they never came back, I thought maybe my excuses would let them move past him and never think about it again." He shrugged. "If they made it a career, they were on their own."

Maverick looked down at his cooling coffee, understanding settling on him like drizzle. "I'm on my own," he said, trying not to let his growing misery bleed into the words.

"What? No! Fuck, kid..." Jaeger rubbed the bridge of his nose. "You got to learn to listen, alright?"

The old Maverick wouldn't have liked being told what to do, but now he just nodded quickly and tried to internalise the lesson. How did one do that? Repeating it like in school? He murmured it to himself a few times under his breath, then glanced up to see Jaeger looking at him with a mystified look that turned into a truncated syllable, a raised finger, and then a head shake. He got up and came to sit next to Maverick. "Alright", he said gently. "Look. Here's how I see it...and if anything's unclear, ask."

"Keevey's not a bad guy. But he got into porn when it was way less accepted, which meant far more broken people. He never figured out how to be himself." The Friesian poked Maverick gently. "Like you. He's either the cop, the father figure, the one in control, or he's the slutty zebra that wants to worship someone else without a single thought in his head of consequences or responsibility. No in between, just like in porn. At least, not until you hooked him up with his boy." Jaeger considered for a moment. "I think he might be feeling shit he's not felt for a very long time. Maybe ever. And...he just isn't capable of integrating you into that, kid. Sorry. But that's alright. You're only nineteen--"

"--um, eighteen--"

"--eighteen?" The other stallion looked mildly shocked. "Fuck sakes, Keevey," he muttered under his breath. "But sure. You're eighteen. This is probably your...first? First attempt at a serious relationship. And that's okay. I didn't know shit at eighteen either, and I still had my folks until I was twenty-four. I promise you that a fifty-something ex-porn star is not the zenith of your life--love or otherwise. No matter how good you think he makes you feel."

"He didn't make me feel good," Maverick admitted. "I mean, he did, but...that was mostly the orgasms. The rest was...I just liked the attention." He looked up in surprise as Jaeger clapped three times and pointed firmly at him, grinning widely.

"Yes, Maverick! That right there is some borderline personal breakthrough shit, kid! That's what you need."

Maverick stared at him with wide eyes until Jaeger frowned and rubbed a hand over his nose. "What?" the Friesian asked. "Got something on my face?"

"You've never called me Maverick before," said Maverick. The other stallion's ears perked, and he cocked his head curiously.

"You sure?" Maverick nodded, and the Friesian looked thoughtful. "Well...can't think of a better reason to start. Well done, Maverick. For thinking with your smart head. Keep it up." He looked at the younger stallion for a moment, stroking his chin. "Actually...hmm. Yeah."

"Hmm?"

"Wait there."

He got up and walked over to the shelves next to the television, browsing them with a finger before selecting one. Maverick looked at him in surprise. "Are you...putting on porn?" he asked.

"Yes," the stallion replied simply, sliding the disc into the television. "But don't see it as porn." He sat next to Maverick and smiled, then flicked the television on and muted it. "Just watch it."

The video looked like it had been taken with amateur equipment somewhere, probably Jaeger's previous home. The room was dim, and the focus took a moment to settle. When it did, the scene it revealed was so pornographically pedestrian that Maverick wanted to smile.

Sitting on the edge of a mattress was a lithe young stallion, nude as glory, hands resting nervously on his thighs. He had pale cream hair, a mane like spun gold, and a body to make any other twink claw himself raw with jealousy. He tapped his fingers repetitively against his knees, seemingly waiting for something, before suddenly looking up at something off-camera with wide eyes and a cock throb. Moments later, Jaeger entered the frame, as nude as the twink and vastly bigger. He stood before the much smaller stallion and cupped his face as the twink melted into him, clearly utterly at his whim. They seemed to exchange words, and then the cream stallion took the big stud's hard cock in hand and began lasciviously sucking on it. When a kind yet firm hand from Jaeger pushed him back, Maverick was as surprised as the twink.

Then Jaeger sank to his knees, stuck his head between the twink's legs, and started to blow him.

The two draft stallions watched silently as screen-Jaeger pleasured the petite horse with intense focus. The twink lay on his back and screamed in silent, rapturous pleasure as the eight-foot-tall Friesian gave him what must be the hummer of his life. His legs curled over Jaeger's shoulders and head like a lover's arms, never still, alternately gripping and weakly pushing him away.

When Jaeger stopped giving him oral sex--after at least fifteen minutes--the twink was as limp as spaghetti. Maverick could not imagine what he said or screamed when Jaeger flipped him over, lifted his tail, and started eating out his ass. And once that had come to an end, another eternity later, he climbed up onto the bed with the other stallion, cuddling up behind him to face him towards the camera and slide his cock in with exquisite slowness that Maverick could read on every twitch and pant of the smaller equine's face--not to mention the gently rolling bulge that protruded from his belly--the Clydesdale was not only as hard as he'd been while licking Jaeger's nuts, but had likely stained his pants beyond rescue.

The video ended unexpectedly, before the stallions climaxed. The final frame showed Jaeger spooning the younger stallion, his head resting over the twink's shoulder, nuzzling at his ear. In contrast, the twink had been caught mid-moan, eyes closed, mouth open, tongue lolling out. The outline of a huge flare could be seen in his lower belly, frozen at the peak of a thrust, bulging the littler stallion out like putty.

"Fucking thing crashed," Jaeger grunted by way of explanation. Maverick nodded but said nothing, looking at the screen and...feeling. The way the twink's head rested on the more massive stallion's bicep, eyes closed, face blissful. The clearly gentle touch of Jaeger's nose against his partner. It was all so...alien to him. He'd never really been that way with Patrick. The older zebra was a match for his size, for a start, so it'd have been far clumsier. Mav also wasn't the cuddling type. From the beginning, their relationship had been defined solely by Maverick's physical superiority to his zebra worshipper. His job was to fuck, and Patrick's was to be fucked. Maverick was in control--he was supposed to take control. This video... was just Jaeger doing the very opposite, in a way. He'd submitted to the twink at almost every step. He'd behaved nothing like he did in his other porn. There, even if he was being fucked, he'd been powerful. Dominant. Putting on a show of strength that spoke to his species and his role. Not acting like the other guy had an option. That wasn't how doms behaved.

...right?

"There's not just one answer for how to be, kid," Jaeger said as if reading his mind. "And some answers are just gonna be wrong." He laid an arm across the couch and fixed Maverick with his too-blue eyes. "Yours was wrong. I think you get that now. Bucephalus' was, too; he picked the answer that he thought would put him on top of the pile, and fucking trust me, it did not. But I got some more options for you, if you'll listen. Opportunities to be more like...that." Maverick's eyes flicked to the television and stared, still unspeaking, trying to put a name to how he was feeling. Or if he even wanted to feel this way.

Jaeger took his silence as an answer, and the horse sighed and looked out of the window towards the Keevey house, sitting in twilight. "Fine," he said. "I don't think it's smart for you to return to them, but I'm also not your boss, so if you just want to know how to unfuck things with Stripes and his hot son, I can teach you that. This time." His face was grave. "And only this time."

Maverick followed his eyes out of the window, staring at the sodium-lit edges of the zebra's house. There was a pit inside him, and he knew that going back to Patrick and Dylan would cover it up again...but never fill it in. He could be worshipped again, treated as the absolute alpha, but there was no taking back words spoken. However, they could go into the pit as well. He could ignore them. He wouldn't need anything except two horny zebras to offer their bodies for his endless satisfaction. Even Jaeger seemed hot for that, the way he talked about them. He could be their dom again, forever...as long as he never desired to be anything more.

Maverick looked at the television again. The frozen image of the two horses, with Jaeger's massive form cradling the smaller one. A powerful expression of control, even ownership. That'd likely be how Maverick would have seen it if that was all he'd seen, and exactly how he'd feel if he'd ever done that with Patrick. But everything leading up to it...changed things. There was still dominance there; Jaeger had still guided things and taken the lead. But it hadn't been just about getting his rocks off. Instead, he'd treated the younger stallion with an air of possessiveness that made complete sense to Maverick, but also a sense of protection and delight in his obvious pleasure that did not. It was like...well, like Patrick treated Dylan.

Like a father protecting his family.

"Is that your son?" Maverick asked quietly, and Jaeger blinked a few times before giving an oddly nervous laugh.

"Kid," he said, "women are wonderful beings, but it would take four plumbers and an engineer to get my dick interested in them. I know I said that gay porn stars all have kids, but I'm the exception, I promise." He searched Maverick's face more closely. "Is...that your frame of reference for why a guy would be kind to another guy he fucks?" he asked. Maverick looked away, suddenly ashamed at what the other stallion might glean from his expression. The things he said made the Clydesdale feel like he had when he'd faced off against Bill in the restaurant, that uncomfortable inner squirming which made him think he was somehow being made out to be a fool at someone else's expense. Except, while it had been pretty evident with Bill and his friends, it was much more challenging to do so with Jaeger. Half the time, the horse talked like he was having a conversation with someone else, yet he kept finding words that wriggled into the crevices of Maverick's thoughts and wouldn't leave.

"Well, I think you'd be a good dad," he mumbled, glancing across at Jaeger. The other horse seemed taken aback by that, but he did chuckle a little.

"Nah," he drawled.

"Why not?"

Jaeger shrugged. "Because I'm actually pretty shit at life, kid. Like, you wanna know why I'm so sure I understand Patrick? Because we're the same person. We've made the same damn mistakes. People like us don't go into porn because we've got big dicks. We did it because we messed up badly and ended up short on options. My options were down to 'fuck people' or 'fuck people up'." He grunted. "Yeah, no. The only things I'm good at are being tall and hung, and that's no basis for being a dad. So best I don't." He shook his head firmly and walked to the kitchen to put his empty coffee mug down. The Clydesdale's hands tightened around his own, his thoughts racing.

"Patrick's still a good dad, though," Maverick mumbled. "And that's not all you're good at."

Jaeger frowned at him as he sat back down. "What's that?"

Maverick had felt on the back foot since he moved in with Jaeger. The older stallion was his superior in every way he could measure. It had been a largely frustrating experience...which he was forced to admit hadn't been helped by his blinded attitude. Jaeger had simply been a porn star to him, and he'd not bothered looking any deeper. But hearing him talk now more frankly about himself had made...sense. He really was--the more Maverick thought about it--more similar to Patrick than it might seem. Because it wasn't about how they looked or even how they acted, but about who they were. And they were both...good. Or at least, they both tried to be. Quite hard. Not with as much success as they'd like, clearly, but that was the thing. They also failed sometimes, because they had their own baggage from the past. It wasn't just him. The difference was that they'd learned--as best they could, maybe as best anyone could--to not let that baggage make them who they were.

Jaeger and Patrick had been porn stars--but that didn't define them. They were just people with big dicks, failing forward in life as best they could. Same as anyone. Even him.

The revelation felt exquisite, as if a hundred spinning doorways in his thoughts had aligned for an instant to reveal a gem of understanding at the far end. It immediately made the mysterious horse much more relatable and let a second, smaller revelation make itself apparent. And just like that, he knew his answer.

"I'm not going back to the zebras," he said firmly.

Jaeger took a slow breath, then let it out. "Alright."

"And then you promise you'll teach me how to be...better." He looked at the television, the frozen image of satisfied lovers, unsure how to phrase it.

"If you're trying to ask if I'll teach you how to be a more understanding partner," Jaeger said wryly, "the answer is also yes. And yes, it will be a practical class."

"Okay. But I want one more thing."

"Don't worry, you can keep staying here--"

"N-not that." Maverick's hands pulled in towards his belly, fingers rubbing against one another nervously. "Well, yes, that too. Uh, thank you. But I also want...you...to...call me son." The final words came out all at once, like tumbling dominos, and Maverick snapped his mouth closed as if afraid they might try to climb back inside. Jaeger stared at him in deathly silence, and Maverick tried to control his expression even as his fingers strangled one another. When the Friesian eventually spoke, his soft voice was overflowing with pathos.

"Oh, Maverick...I don't know if that's a good idea..."

The floodgates opened. "I know you're not my dad. I know. I know. Patrick's not my dad, and you're not. My dad's gone. A-and I don't, um, I can't replace him. But you're alone too, and I know what you like." He looked pointedly at the television. "And I know it's not real and I'm not saying it has to be real but if it just feels real then...then it will still feel like something. And, like, that's better than nothing, right?"

The Friesian looked torn. "We tried that, Mav, and it really didn't--"

Maverick, terrified of losing steam or nerve, dared to raise his voice and cut the other stallion off. "I'm not Bucephalus! I know I'm not. I tried, and it was awful, and everything you said was true. And you aren't him either. But you know what you're doing, and I don't, and I..." Tears, hot and frustrated. "I just really want someone to show me how to be a good horse! And I know it can be you because even though you're not a dad you act like one and I think you make a really hot dad and--" He finally ground to a halt, panting and shaking, when Jaeger held a hand up to silence him.

Jaeger's eyebrows rose. "...a hot dad?"

Maverick's ears flicked in embarrassment as the Friesian smirked at him. "A...good dad."

"Mmmh, well, nice save, but a bit late considering you were muzzle-deep in my nuts." Maverick blushed and looked away, trying not to drown in anxiety as Jaeger rested his head in his hand and stared thoughtfully out of the window for long, silent minutes.

He jumped when Jaeger suddenly sat up and clapped his hands together, looking determined. "First," he said sternly, and Maverick's eyes widened. "Some questions." He held up a finger. "One: do you know how much older I am than you?"

"Uh...no. Thirty-fi...?" He quickly downgraded his guess as Jaeger's eyes widened in horror. "Thirt...twenty-nine? But, um, Patrick is almost three times my age."

The horse blinked slowly. "Fuck me. Those zebra genes must knock like ten years off. Fine." A second finger rose. "Do you understand that my only qualification is 'ex-porn star', and therefore while I can teach you to be fun and generous in bed, the rest of your life is still up to you?" Maverick nodded quickly, and another finger lifted. "Three. My house, my rules. My bed, my rules. My..." He shook his head as if disbelieving the words he was about to say. "My family, my rules. If you don't like it, you can go at any time. But there are no second chances."

Maverick nodded again, and when no more statements were forthcoming, he licked his lips. "So, does that mean...?"

Jaeger stared at him with his piercing gaze, then looked at the scene of himself and the twink on the television. "I kept hoping to run into him again," he said absently. "He was great, but I really wanted another chance to let him have free reign of the fun park. Such a good, attentive boy. And I bet he'd have let me call him son if I asked."

That didn't sound like a 'no'. Maverick felt hope--a feeling so alien, he couldn't even remember when last he'd felt it--as Jaeger's hands tucked into his vest and pulled it up and over his head. He tossed it behind the couch before spreading his arms across the top of the sofa and separating his legs to fully expose his bulge. "And honestly," the Friesian mused, "going out to meet hook-ups every day to control my libido is too much fucking work. A live-in son to deal with my needs makes much more sense." His tone grew huskier as he ran his eyes over Maverick's body. "Especially a ripped, well-hung son ready to handle all his father's needs."

Relief pumped through the Clydesdale's veins, flushing his face and cock with blood. Nervous excitement pushed him to his feet, and he jittered in place for a moment, vacillating between expressing heartfelt thanks and obsequious compliance as Jaeger looked up at him with amusement. A memory suddenly popped into his head; one so fitting, it was the only thing he could do.

He put his hands behind his back and stiffened, eyes forward, hooves spread. "Stud stallions are always ready, sir!"

Jaeger grunted, and his eyes glittered as he recognised the porn scene Maverick was imitating. "You really have seen all my stuff," he said approvingly. "Fuck...that was one of my first. I'd almost forgotten it." Maverick smiled proudly as the Friesian snorted in obvious arousal. "I like that attitude very much, by the way," the older stallion murmured. "Keep doing that." He adjusted himself and smirked.

"It must have been a little torturous for you, son," he said, savouring the word just as much as he had earlier, "being so close to me the last few weeks, with the memory of all my films telling you just how fucking fit I am, and yet not getting to indulge your curiosity. Hmm?" Maverick kept his mouth shut like a good recruit, but he couldn't stop his cock from dropping and making his bulge grow--and Jaeger noticed. "Yeah," he said smugly, "there's my answer. Let me just analyse it a bit more closely..."

He shuffled forward on the couch and grabbed Maverick's bulge, groping it a few times and then sliding his hand down to involve his balls as well. Maverick's legs quivered as he tried to remain entirely still. "Hmmm," Jaeger said thoughtfully, "yes, a good argument. Very...big. Heavy foundations, firm central thrust..." He gently patted Maverick's balls with the palm of his hand. "Excellent." Just as Maverick was about to give up and thrust his crotch forward to let the other stallion play with him like putty, the Friesian pulled his hand away and shuffled back on the couch.

"You've got a real nice cock on you, son," he told the Clydesdale. "Not as impressive as mine, of course, but you're still growing. Maybe someday you'll overtake your dad, hmm?" The idea of someday outdoing this stud in the cock department gave Maverick such a buzz that he had to break parade stance to openly pant. "Ah, you like that thought? Thought you might." He cocked his head. "Tell me, son: have you jerked off thinking of your dad while staying with me? Fantasised about my big muscles? My thick pecs, my fat dick, my hairy pits?"

Maverick groaned, eyes fluttering. "Fuck, yes, sir. Almost every night, sir."

Jaeger hummed in satisfaction. "Do you want to explore your porn dad's body more intimately, son?"

"I really do, sir."

"Are you ready to learn how to properly pleasure another stallion, son?"

"More than anything, sir, yes, please."

Jaeger snorted, a wicked smile rising on his lips. "Take off your clothes, Maverick," he murmured.

Maverick undressed faster than he ever had before in his life, struggling only with his underwear; his cock had hardened enough that it was a battle to fit through. But he got there and resumed his stance, naked from head to hooves and painfully hard. His dick twitched lazily to the rapid beat of his heart, and his ass-cheeks clenched to maintain his posture. Jaeger, meanwhile, lounged like only a half-naked stallion could, oozing confidence like myrrh. He looked over his nude son with insouciant slowness, then licked a finger and touched one of his nipples with a soft grunt. "The anticipation is everything, son," he explained as his finger circled the dark, stiff point. "Fucking is over too fast. Cuddling is romantic but not erotic. That leaves foreplay. The build-up. The terrible, perfect tension in your gut that sinks to your balls and makes you want to scream. Do you feel it?"

Maverick nodded tightly, afraid that speaking would release the very tension his father was speaking of.

"You can do anything to your partner when he's full of that tension, son, because everything becomes exquisite. A scent." He lifted an arm to breathe in the smell of his pit, sighing. "A word." He pursed his lips at Maverick coyly and growled. "Stallion." Maverick gulped, head spinning, and Jaeger smiled and ran his fingertips over his lips. "A promise."

He got suddenly to his feet and stepped up to Maverick, not touching him, but standing close enough to let the other stallion feel the heat radiating from his shirtless body. He stepped around the Clydesdale, each hoofstep landing like a shout in a library to Maverick's straining ears, until he stopped right behind his son, out of sight. Maverick stared ahead, ears turning in every direction to guess what his father was doing. When loose fingers wrapped gently around the base of his tail, Maverick's muscles went taut so fast that he almost stumbled. A shivering snort of hot air hit the nape of his neck, and then an unseen mouth slid closer, rumbling low and wordlessly. "I promise," Jaeger murmured in his ear, "that before this night is done, you will willingly raise this tail for my tongue and for my cock, son. Your father will have your sweet virginity."

Maverick gasped as a single kiss was laid on the back of his neck. Then Jaeger was suddenly before him, massive and dark and glorious, eyes deep and blue. He said nothing, and Maverick stared back, unable to hide his fear and insecurity. He'd never been on the receiving end of more than an occasional curious finger down there during his masturbation sessions. It wasn't--hadn't been--his job. Because it's not a job. He clenched his eyes, trying to reframe his thoughts and self-reflect as Jaeger suggested. But the facts remained: he didn't know the first thing about getting fucked, and his father's cock was so fucking big...

The Friesian must have read his thoughts as expressions swept across his face, because he smiled. "I've seen that look on a hundred faces before, son," he assured Maverick. "Even other stallions thought twice when they saw me drop during training." He put a hand on Maverick's cheek. "Don't worry, son," he murmured. "I won't do anything you don't want to. I'm too big to say there won't be some pain, but I have the tools to make it as easy as I can. Trust me, Maverick."

He believed Jaeger. He really did. Except... "You're so huge," Maverick whispered, though it came out as more of a whimper. Jaeger put a hand on Maverick's chest, fingers caressing his hair and then sliding down until they curled around the base of his dick.

"You're huge, sir," he reminded the Clydesdale. "And so are you, son. You think I'm not nervous about feeling this beautiful monster"--his hand gripped Maverick's length and stroked along it--"trying to turn me into a kebab eventually?" Maverick's mouth dropped a little, and Jaeger chuckled. "You're still thinking in your old way, son. That's fine. You're new to it. Here's something to mull over: if you're going to give it, it's always appreciated if you can take it, too. And you can apply that rule to anything."

He released Maverick's cock and stepped back, then turned around to walk the few steps to the couch. As he did so, he slipped out of his underwear and flagged his tail high, giving Maverick an unimpeded view of a bubble-butt stallion ass split down the middle by a crack like a ripe peach--and, nestling at the very top of the peach, right below the obsidian spray of horsehairs, a round, winking doughnut. It glistened at him under the ceiling lights, and Maverick couldn't restrain a whinny.

Jaeger settled back onto the couch and resumed his position, smirking at his son and lifting both legs into the air to show off his hole before lowering them again. "Was all lubed up for some fun earlier," he explained. "Not sure it'll see action tonight...but, inevitably, it will. I promise you'll get to fuck me, Maverick, and I am very much looking forward to it." He leered at the Clydesdale, and Maverick's balls jumped in their sack. "But," he said, his voice growing stern again, "back to the matter at hand. Are you horny, recruit?" The sentence was verbatim from the porn Maverick had emulated; he could never have guessed that memorising the script over countless re-watches would pay off like this.

Maverick stood up straight again, assuming his persona. "Yes, sir!"

"Hard as sin?"

"Like a redwood, sir!"

"Lusty as you can be?"

"Like a mare with two pussies, sir!" What a stupid fucking--

Jaeger's groan matched his thoughts. "I forgot about that fucking line," the Friesian sighed, rolling his eyes. "Dumbest line in any film I ever did, hands down. And that takes some work." When Maverick giggled, the Friesian met his eyes and smiled. "Where's this Maverick been, hmm?" he asked gently. "I like this one a lot more. You're so handsome when you smile." He grinned when Maverick looked flustered, then stretched his arms wide again. "Alright," he said. "That's enough teasing for our first time, son. This body's not going to explore itself." He nodded down at himself. "Get over here and taste me."

Maverick heard him, but didn't react at first. He was trying to process a new concept his father's casual statement had triggered, one that hadn't occurred to him. Would people actually like him...as he was? He'd been "the big jock stallion" for so long, ever since his growth spurt in school had let him lean into the attention and respect his size and species gave, that he'd stopped caring about who he used to be: a slightly awkward colt who loved bad jokes, making friends, and having a good time with them. He'd loved all that, but at some point, he'd decided that a horse like him had to grow up. Become the alpha. Be in charge. And once he'd become that, the fear of rejecting it had been heavily sustained by a fear of not knowing who to be if he wasn't that.

But Jaeger had just given him that answer without even realising it: he could just be who he'd been before.

"...son? Maverick? You okay?"

Maverick felt a warm thrill run through him to hear Jaeger call him that, elevated by the look of concern on the Friesian's face. Fuck...the guy really fucking cared. Like a real father. He smiled and blinked a sudden tear out of his eye, only a little choked up. "Yes, si--yes, Dad."

He stepped closer and leaned down to give the Friesian a quick kiss, but Jaeger's hand caught him and held him there as the Friesian's tongue pushed into his mouth and curled around his own. "Mmmf..." he sighed as Jaeger's other hand slipped around the back of his head, scratching at his ear before sliding down to caress his neck and shoulder. Their lips met and separated in a simple, delightful dance that sent shivers down Maverick's spine. Jaeger pulled away after a moment to lick the tip of Maverick's nose and nuzzle under his son's neck, planting more kisses there. Maverick moaned, and when Jaeger's hand slid around his side and tugged on him to invite him to lower himself into the Friesian's lap, he did so. The big stallion's cock was fearsomely hard beneath him, and he tried not to let his weight rest fully upon it, but there was no avoiding it. His porn star father's pride was an absolute beast.

Jaeger pulled Maverick in again, and they kissed some more while his father took his son's hands and rested them on his powerful body. Maverick quickly took the hint, stroking the big stallion's gorgeous muscles with delight, fingertips finding the creases where they met and palms brushing over the smooth stretches of their firm extent. He stroked up and down Jaeger's back, marvelling at the detail he could feel; the other stallion had developed muscles he didn't even know existed. The ripples of strength down his sides were equally fascinating, and when he slid a curious hand under his arm to feel the hair there, Jaeger rumbled in amusement and broke off the kiss.

"You like that, son?"

"I've just...never really seen one unshaved, Dad."

Jaeger snorted. "You kids and your shaved pits. You don't know what you're giving up." He lifted an arm, gripping the cushion behind him to fully expose his armpit. "You liked how my balls smelled well enough. This is like that, but different." He winked at and nudged Maverick with a hand. "Get your muzzle in there and see, son."

Maverick did immediately as told, pressing his nose into Jaeger's armpit and shivering as the hairs tickled his nose. Just as the Friesian had said, it had overtones of the musk that coated his balls, but distinct enough to be its own scent. Maverick closed his eyes and breathed, letting the warm smell of paternal stallion fill his lungs. Jaeger smelled like...confidence. Strength. Safety. It took the Clydesdale back to an ancient memory, so old it might even be imagined, but was no less potent for it: a memory of being held tight by another horse who made him feel safe. He slipped his arms around the big black horse as he sniffed and nuzzled at him, and he felt his father give an easy sigh. When he dared to lick at the armpit--it didn't taste sweaty, to his surprise, but more earthy--the bigger stallion gasped, then growled with pleasure and lowered his arm a little to trap Maverick's muzzle under it.

"Definitely keep doing that, son," he said. Maverick did so, flush with the dopamine hit of knowing he was making his stud father feel so good. Unseen fingers plucked one of his hands from behind the Friesian and moved it to his front, settling it on one of his hard nipples. Maverick began playing with that as he attended to the armpit surrounding his muzzle. His father's soft moans grew much louder, rising into panted grunts whenever Maverick tweaked the fleshy tip hard enough. Pit hairs stroked the edges of his nostrils, and his father's pulse throbbed against his nose. Every breath smelled like Dad, and it was beautiful.

The unseen fingers retook his hand, pulling it down from the nipple towards his crotch. Maverick grasped his father's magnificent cock when he touched it, but Jaeger grunted. "No, son, not there..." His hand was moved yet lower, between the stallion's thighs and under, until his index finger touched upon the slick, warm flesh of a stallion's hole. "There..." Jaeger breathed, and Maverick gasped in excitement. He gripped his father more tightly with his other arm and felt the big horse lean in to sniff and lick at his ear, murmuring at him.

"Finger me while you eat my pit, son," Jaeger said, then grunted as Maverick pushed a single finger in, feeling the muscled ring clench around it. "Yes, just like that," he panted. "Oh, fffuck...deeper, son...daddy loves that..." Maverick panted in time with his father, his own hard draft cock now fully erect and pressing between them. His flare swelled and spat pre-cum as he pushed his finger deeper into Jaeger. His father nickered and caught the nape of Maverick's neck in his teeth, snorting hard and hotly as he began to sweat more heavily. Droplets of it ran down his face and onto Maverick's back. "Slower, son, slower...stroke daddy's inside..." The Clydesdale did as commanded and felt an immediate response in the clenching throb of the massive Friesian horsecock beneath him. He slid deeper, past the last knuckle, and whimpered happily as Jaeger's mouth tightened against him. He might be penetrating his stud-father, but there was no question who was in control.

And it was liberating.

"All the way now, son," Jaeger said hoarsely, and Maverick pushed until he couldn't any further. His finger slid around easily inside Jaeger's lubricated ass, and it seemed nearly every point he touched was magical for the Friesian. The grunts, snorts and whimpers were the most erotic sounds Maverick had ever heard...until he began finger-fucking the Friesian like it was a cock in him, and heard a low equine rumble that sounded like the lead-up to something louder. But it didn't change pitch, never cresting or fading away; only pausing when the other stallion had to breathe, and eliciting a matching shiver of ecstasy in Maverick that he hoped would never end. He slid his finger in and out of the horse quicker and quicker, feeling the muscled body surrounding him grow tenser and tenser until the teeth gripping his nape released, hands pushed him back, and Jaeger's sweaty, lust-drenched face thrust into his with a half-snarled "Get up!".

Maverick quickly pulled his finger free of the Friesian and got to his feet, unsure of what was being asked of him, but Jaeger had it all well in hand. He stood up too, grabbing Maverick's head to slide two fingers into his mouth for a second with a snort before pulling them free and whipping the big Clydesdale around instead. He'd pushed his son down into the couch cushions--ass sticking off the edge--before he could react, and Maverick felt a moment of panic that his father might be about to enter him without any preparation. But no sooner had his muscles tensed in worry than he felt soft hands holding his thighs--and then something hot and wet made pleasure burst from his rear.

The stallion, face down in the cushions, screamed. It was all he could do, so strong and unexpected was the feeling. It stopped, and there was a knowing chuckle from the floor behind him. "Well," Jaeger said happily, "someone loves a good rimming." Maverick's muscles quivered, one leg twitching so hard he almost lost his balance, and he turned his head to say something to his father. Only a needy, wordless noise came out, and Jaeger stroked his son's back, making soothing sounds. "Don't worry, son. Dad's not going to stop. You're too fucking delicious...mmmmh..." Another lash of heat landed, like the fall of a whip, but this found the base of his nutsack and slid up, wet and fast and narrowing until the very tip of it caught the rim of his hole and vanished. Maverick cried out again, thrusting back desperately to feel more of that heat against his skin, but it was gone.

"Pleeeease," he whimpered. He couldn't say more, and words were insufficient now anyway. He pushed his face deeper into the cushions and lifted his tail as high as he could flag it, willing his balls to drop lower to give his father more to work with and making his black hole flex to communicate his desperate need. A hard nicker told him his father appreciated his effort, and--like honey being teased out along his body--he felt the tip of his father's tongue run over him again from the bottom of his ballsack to the top of his taint. He tried thrusting his ass backwards just as it reached his hole, but Jaeger slipped away once more with a teasing chuckle, reaching for the Clydesdale's cock instead and rubbing his son's flare gently.

"You want me to really go at you, son?" he teased. Maverick whimpered blind assent into the cushions. "You want to see what my tongue can do with a fucking meal of a stud like you? Show me that beautiful sack and ass, son. Show me how badly you want your dad to fucking ravage you, you gorgeous stud of a stallion. Let me hear how much you love it when I pleasure you. Bring that muscled ass to me, son, and let daddy feast."

Maverick practically burrowed into the couch in his desperation to do as his father asked, pushing his tail to the side and clenching his muscles to make his balls rise and fall in a little show for Jaeger. In his few attempts at exploring his ass, he had never felt what Jaeger's tongue had made him feel. He had no clue whether he'd been too rough or not in the right mood before, but he would do almost anything to get his father attending to him like that again. His desperation was obvious enough to make Jaeger tease it out a little longer, brushing his fingertips along Maverick's thighs and blowing air onto his puckered doughnut until the Clydesdale was almost weeping in need.

Then, at last, two firm hands again took hold of his thighs...but instead of merely holding, they gripped and pulled. Maverick yelped as he was turned on his head, hooves in the air, legs held apart. His balls flopped forward over his cock, and were immediately engulfed by his father's hungry, horny mouth. The sensation of each testicle fully contained in the slick heat of Jaeger's muzzle made the young stallion clench his eyes shut, whinnying with wild pleasure. His father abandoned the slow, teasing approach he'd used before and went berserk, sucking, licking and grunting over his son's balls like they were the finest meal he'd ever enjoyed.

His tongue swept over his nutsack and taint, licking up every little taste of him before his head wedged itself between his legs and began to eat Maverick's hole with lusty vigour. He punched past his son's tight, virgin ring with a tongue so long and muscled, it felt like Maverick imagined a cock must--but if so, the first proper cock that penetrated his ass would probably kill him from sensory overload. Everything he'd thought he'd been so clever to do while fingering his father, Jaeger did too--but better, and more, and faster. He played the young stallion like a virtuoso, and Maverick melted, his every muscle limp with unimagined pleasure. If Jaeger hadn't supported his legs, he would have toppled insensate and drooling to the floor.

As he worked, his father growled and snorted like a wild animal, moving his body about every few seconds to gain some new angle or access. The movement made his cock swing too, smacking into Maverick's nose every few seconds with wet thumps. The horse, barely capable of thought, filled with lust and desperate need, reached for it and stuffed the leaking flare into his mouth, suckling on it like a greedy piglet to drink down the unending stream of pre-cum his father produced. It tasted magnificent, like all the rest of him. Even though it swelled up in his mouth from the attention and had to be released to avoid cracking Maverick's jaw, he did not stop kissing, slurping and licking the fat, fleshy cockhead for all he had, letting his loud moans escape for his father's benefit.

Because it all made sense now.

He didn't want to suck the cock because he just loved its taste or feel; those were secondary concerns. Instead, he sucked it because it was his father's cock: the father currently tongue-deep inside his ass, making him feel as though every nerve below his waist was numb and every one above it on fire. He wanted to thank him, and this was how. Not the only way, but the way he could right now, a way that brought them closer and made pleasure a fully shared experience.

The two stallions shared their carnal meal with loud and lusty dialogue.

When Jaeger's panting mouth drew back from Maverick's ass, and his reluctant backwards step pulled the flare from the Clydesdale's reach, the young stallion fell over and crawled upright, moaning unhappily. "Don't stop, sir," he begged, but his father was frantically pulling cupboards open before hurrying out of the room. "Dad!" Maverick cried after him, clambering to his feet, somehow terrified that Jaeger would leave and that he would never know true pleasure again. To his relief, the sweaty, glistening Friesian returned a few moments later with a large bottle in hand. He squirted it generously onto himself, and lube splashed across his body while his other hand rubbed it into his hair and over his now rock-hard dick, shuddering as his hand touched his sensitive shaft. Once he was entire lubed up, he moved behind Maverick and stuck the nozzle up his son's now-loose ass, making the younger stallion jump as multiple squirts of cold lube shot up inside him. "Clench," he told the Clydesdale, before tossing the bottle aside and thumping down on the couch, breathing heavily and looking up at his son, holding his prick upright with one hand to stop it from flopping to the side.

"Are you ready, son?" he asked. "Do you want this?" Maverick stared at the pillar of flesh that glistened between his father's legs. It had terrified him earlier...but after what Jaeger had done to him, the overwhelming size of his father's endowment was no longer a concern, but a desire. He trusted Jaeger, and if his dad's tongue alone had made him feel like that...how would his actual porn star dick?

"Yes, sir," Maverick breathed, and Jaeger whinnied and flehmened.

"Get on top," he commanded. "I'll guide you." Maverick quickly stepped close and threw one leg over Jaeger, straddling the huge cock beneath him, heart pounding, ass clenching tight to contain the lube. He began lowering himself until Jaeger's flare rested just at his entrance. The older stallion cupped his face, his pupils so large they almost hid the blue. "Take it slow, son," he panted. "The flare's the hard part. It'll feel like you're splitting apart, but you can handle it because you're a fucking champ. Take it slow, let the lube do its thing, and you can take it all. I know you can. And then..." His very breathing grew coarser, and his words growled like thunder. "Then I'll fuck you so fucking hard, boy, it'll make all my films look like I've been taking it easy every time."

A hundred images of Jaeger fucking needy stallions flashed through Maverick's mind, and his legs shivered. Jaeger rested his free hand on Maverick's thigh as the younger stallion began pushing, relaxing his hole to let the fat mushroom enter him, feeling now-warm lube ooze out around it. The beast stretched him wide, to what he was sure was his limit...and just kept stretching. The porn star's flare didn't feel like it was splitting him apart--it felt like it was splitting the universe apart. Jaeger grimaced, and breathed, and swore as he let his father's flesh slide in with agonising slowness, stopping whenever the burn grew too overwhelming and resuming when it faded. He couldn't imagine how much harder this would be if his father hadn't spent half an hour loosening him up already or hadn't squirted what must have been a gallon of lube inside him.

Minutes passed. Maverick's eyes squeezed shut, focusing on pushing through. All of existence had faded away in the face of the fierce burn of his ring when--almost as an afterthought--the corona slipped in, and the Clydesdale felt his ring contract to more mortal dimensions. He'd done it. He gave a gasp of relief, his legs wavering again, and he gave a long, low moan at a fresh sensation. "D-Daaaad...?" The final entry had pushed Jaeger's flare in deep enough that it pressed firmly against a spot a few inches inside him that seemed directly connected to his nuts and cock. Every tiny movement of his semi-crouched form was magnified tenfold by that unseen point. His cock jerked wildly, spraying ropes of pre-cum across Jaeger, the couch, and everything nearby as the young stallion's eyes rolled back into his head.

This was only his father's flare. This was only his flare...

Jaeger grabbed his son's cockhead at his shivering cry, smearing his hand with his issue before bringing it back to his mouth to savour with a happy smile. "Almost there, son," he said. "The hard part's over. You're doing so well, Maverick. You feeling something wonderful just inside?" Maverick nodded fiercely. "That's the prostate, son. That's what makes it all worth it. Keep going, son, and let it do its thing."

After a few more moments to adjust to the startling new feeling, Maverick did so. He found it far easier from there, just as Jaeger had promised, though the sensation of the fearsome flare powering ever deeper into his body was as terrifying as it was glorious. Jaeger's continued murmurs of encouragement helped--but every new inch of shaft that slid in also left its mark on his special spot. The young stallion was rapidly becoming addicted to the waves of pleasure that little nut produced. The slow thickening of his father's shaft as it sank into him made it press harder and harder against his prostate, too, until he stopped with some inches to go and just bounced a little, grinding his father's thick shaft against his inner nerves with tiny, ecstatic motions and equally tiny cries of joy.

"Don't cum, Maverick," Jaeger begged. "Let me, son, please, just finish...nnnnh...oh fuck, son, your ass feels so fucking amazing..." He whinnied madly. "I need to fuck you so bad, son...I need to be all the way in...keep going..."

Maverick nodded and kept descending, past the medial--with a happy squirt of thick, white pre-cum that slapped Jaeger right across his beautiful pecs like a lightning bolt frozen against the night sky--and on to the base, where his sire's endowment grew to its most prodigious size. As it approached, Maverick felt the flare sliding up against his abdominal wall. Soon, his belly had a bulge where the near-uncontainable power of his father's cockhead had settled deep inside him. Then, with a final grunt, he settled into his father's lap with the very last of his sire's porn star dick inside of him, legs folded against the couch and feeling fuller--happier--than he had been in a long time.

Jaeger had held his face for the final ten inches, encouraging him as his ass swallowed his father's full member. Now, he took Maverick's muzzle in hand and kissed him deeply, moaning happily. "Well done, son, well done...you did so well..." He stroked the outline of his flare through Maverick's abs, eyes wide, panting with excitement or disbelief or both. "Does it feel good? It feels so fucking good for me, son. You're so fucking tight and hot, and you look so fucking fit, son..." The Clydesdale smiled through lidded eyes to see him so happy, though his attention was almost wholly focused on the waves of pleasure rolling through him. He didn't want them to ever stop--he wanted them to get fiercer. He wanted to feel what he'd felt when Jaeger had ravaged him. He wanted to feel pure, unfettered lust.

"Tell me when you feel ready, son. I'll take it very slow, I promise--"

Maverick grabbed Jaeger's mane, making the other stallion's eyes widen. "I'm fucking ready, daddy," he husked. "Don't take it slow. Fuck me like a slut, sir. Fuck me raw, daddy. Show me how a porn star breeds a stallion's hole. Make me scream your name." Jaeger gripped Maverick's throat, flattening his ears and baring his teeth with a wild glint in his eyes.

"That's my boy," he growled--and his body exploded into motion.

Any recollection of the previous few minutes was annihilated as Jaeger's furious lovemaking began. Maverick had always known the Friesian was stronger than him; it was obvious. But he'd never truly felt it, not even when the other horse had been literally standing on him. Now, Jaeger simply reached for his son's waist and...lifted him. His massive arms bulged like sacks of sand, and the veins on his neck stood out like vines against a wall, but as Maverick rose a few centimetres from Jaeger's lap, the porn star began to piledrive his giant cock into him like he was nothing more than a very muscled sex toy. The feeling of the porn star's member pulling out a little only to slam back inside with all the force his powerful hips could produce made Maverick scream his lungs hoarse with each impact. Whatever vestiges of his old reality still clung on were wiped out, and his entire world became reduced to the unbelievable horsedick he was impaled on.

His arms flopped over his father's shoulders, and he laid his muzzle alongside the Friesian's, crying out whenever the bulbous base of the oversized horsecock pushed inside him and then whimpering in need when it withdrew. Sweat rolled down his face and dripped onto Jaeger's chest as the incredible stallion fucked him with all his might, lip lifted to expose gritted teeth and eyes clenched in focus. Maverick could feel the strength of his father's arms flexing against his sides, feel the might of his ploughing hips, see the raw power of the tensed body below him. The smell of sweaty horseflesh that filled his nose was cut through with the rich scent of pre-cum and grassy breath as the mating stallions panted loudly and heavily in the depths of their rut.

The bulge of flare that had only dimpled his belly, almost shyly, upon first insertion was now a ravening monster trying to force its way out, a twin pleasure to the sensation of stiff, veined shaft against his delicate inner flesh. More than that, everything felt hypersensitive, as if the Friesian's touch had awakened a thousand new nerves across his body. Maverick could feel every stroke of the bigger stallion's fingertips as his arms held him fast, trace every droplet of pre-cum that oozed down his inner thigh, clench his abs against the flare inside him and feel its nubs rubbing along the muscle. Fucking had been about what his dick felt ever since he'd started doing it; what he felt now was about anything but his dick. It was already incredible, and yet he'd not even climaxed.

Which made him faint with anticipation of what was yet to come.

He pulled his arms free of Jaeger and leaned back, trusting the stud's strength to hold him. He wrapped his hands around his cock and began masturbating, sliding along the sweat-slicked shaft with soft noises that matched his happy cries. And when Jaeger's beautiful caramel voice started talking to him, he froze, even holding his breath to ensure he didn't miss a single syllable.

"You're such a good fuck, son," he whispered, every few words interrupted by a grunt and a slap of heavy balls against flesh. "No loose ultra-fucked porn hole, just a perfect tight rump..." He whinnied and slapped one of Maverick's ass cheeks, and Maverick whinnied back, hands flying along his painfully stiff shaft. The Jaeger cupped his face gently, and Maverick stared back with wide eyes as the stallion's mighty rhythm briefly slowed. "I won't cum until you cum, stud, alright?" he said gently. "I want to make you feel better than you've ever felt. It makes me so fucking hard when you show me how good it feels when I fuck you, son. Will you do that for me?"

Will you do that for me?

Simple words, but his tone was so intensely genuine that Maverick wanted to cry. The sense of connection and understanding that Jaeger radiated felt...not alien, but ancient. It had been so long since he'd felt that--or let himself feel it--from anyone. Yet no matter the gulfs of time between occurrences, it was something so primal that it sank into his being without needing to be invited and found a home ready for it. The way Jaeger took pleasure in the giving as much as the receiving was such a simple thing, and yet the manner in which he had revealed it to Maverick made it seem like a fierce bonfire that had been ignited within a cold and shadowed hall. All it took, in truth, was to make someone be the pale horse from Jaeger's video. All it took was to cast warmth and illumination upon the faces of those who stared back at you.

To make them feel needed.

"Yes, sir," Maverick moaned. "Anything for you, daddy." He saw Jaeger grinning madly at him and let his head flop back, putting all his breath into the scream that came from his throat. "Fuck me, daddy! I need you in me, daddy! I want to feel you cum, you fucking stud!" He pressed one hand to his abs to feel Jaeger's flare moving around inside him, while the other began thumping up under his flare repeatedly like he was trying to pop a cork. "You feel so fucking big, daddy, I love your cock, I love how hard you fuck me, I love having you in me and--!" His words choked off with a cry as a new warmth enveloped his cock; Jaeger's muzzle, leaning down enough to swallow his son's tip. Maverick babbled as his brain gave up on keeping track of time and descended to a realm of pure sensation. The titanic slamming of daddy's hips into his. The rhapsodic pleasure of stroking his cock, feeling it strain against the limits of flesh to be harder than it had ever been. The low grunts of his father's oral lust. The stink of their bodies together. The heat of him. The feel of him engulfing his flare, dragging it closer to release. The knowledge that, when it all ended, he would still be there--would still want to be.

The orgasm exploded with such fury that it almost felt painful. Maverick's entire body twisted into a rictus as all of his muscles contracted at once with the full strength a corn-fed draft stallion's body could produce. If the black stallion himself had not redoubled the fierceness of his grip on his son, Maverick might inadvertently have wrenched himself loose of his position impaled atop Jaeger's pole. Even more wonderfully, he did not move his muzzle from where it sat, clamped to Maverick's swollen flare. The gorgeous stud horse just snorted breathlessly, like a fresh spring colt, and gulped down every single drop of cum that his son's massive ejaculation produced with thirsty, needy gulps.

It came back to Maverick in pieces: as if his experiences were shattered by their passage through the burning wall of ecstasy that seemed to envelop him and were then reconstructed. He hung insensate from Jaeger's powerful grip, arms loose and limp, a martyr to equine need. He didn't know if the ache in his balls was from their bouncing against Jaeger's abs for hours or the sheer speed at which his seed had shot out of them. All he knew was that every clench of his muscles pumped a final, lesser squirt of his hot load into his father's mouth, who swallowed it as greedily as any hungry twink would. Pleasuring his son even as he pleasured himself. Like a good and faithful father.

"Dad..." Maverick murmured, when the whirlwind had faded some. With effort, he leaned forward and tucked his hands over Jaeger's shoulders again, eyes unfocused, drifting. "Dad...that...you..."

He got no further.

Jaeger's mouth released his son's flare just as his hands on Maverick's hips grew tight once more, and suddenly Maverick felt himself again being fucked with merciless power by his incredible father. The suddenly renewed pressure on his beleaguered, too-sensitive prostate made him scream and shoot fresh ropes of semen--how were his balls not yet empty?!--all across the black stallion's chest, rutilating it with masculine essence. His exhausted mind did not know how to handle the onslaught, so it just felt everything, all at once, without a filter. Maverick screamed, cried, whimpered and roared as Jaeger--his duty to his son accomplished--allowed himself to reach his own peak. The immense flare inside Maverick now felt like it was tearing him apart...but no. That was just the result of his sire's staggering orgasm, boiling out of balls too big to create anything other than stallions and flooding every bend and crevice of his son's innards so fast that Maverick felt it squirt straight back out of him with a disgusting, beautiful noise. At the same time, the fluid that remained--hot as lava, hot as life--seared him and every nerve, overwhelming the young stallion's remaining stamina and awareness.

With a great sigh and a slump forward, arms still wrapped about his father, Maverick passed out.

He came to an indeterminate amount of time later to find himself lying on the couch, on his side, his upper leg being held up and something wonderful happening to his massively abused asshole. It took several moments to recognise it as Jaeger's fantastic mouth, gently kissing and licking the puffy hole his godlike penis had created, occasionally pushing in to lick up some of his own semen before retreating to breathe contentedly against it. His touch felt like a balm spreading over the young stallion's hot, fierce flesh.

When he felt Maverick stir, the Friesian quickly rose and crawled on top of him, his weight pushing the Clydesdale face down into the couch as his father settled atop him, tucking his head in next to Maverick's with a sigh. A quick lift of his hips let him adjust his half-flaccid cock enough to slide it back into his son, who breathed a moan of delight to feel himself filled again without being stretched to breaking point.

They lay in silence for a while, satisfaction and body heat melding their sweaty flesh into one as breathing slowed. When Jaeger roused enough to turn his head and lick his son's ear, Maverick blinked and squeezed his ass around the fat stallion flesh still inside him, eliciting a happy grunt.

"Fun?" his father murmured.

"More than fun. You...how..." Maverick sighed. "You fuck like a god, Dad." As the Friesian chuckled, he slid a hand up to stroke his father's pec.

"Well, I don't know if you know this, but I was a porn star..."

"You still are. Dick of the Year, Forever: Jager Hawk."

"Aw, thanks, son." Jaeger nickered and clenched his limbs around him. "Glad you had fun, son. Lots more to come."

"Cum," said Maverick sleepily. "Heh." The Friesian nuzzled and licked at him a little more, sniffing his scent.

"I had an idea," he said gently, "that I thought we could do. But only if you want." He explained it, and Maverick listened with an uncertainty that was, to his surprise, tempered with excitement. Jaeger squeezed his shoulder when he was done. "Only if you want," he repeated once he was done. Maverick nodded, trying to untangle the feelings his father's proposal had generated in him. His gut instinct was to say no, but after what he'd just experienced--not to mention the mark the last month had left on him--he found his body responding very differently to his mind.

"Can...I think about it?" he asked, and Jaeger nodded.

"Of course, son," he said. "Only when you're ready." He began to nibble on Maverick's ear. The younger stallion closed his eyes in delight, relaxing the muscles that had unconsciously tensed up and continuing his slow drift into sleep. He'd have to think about it more, for sure...but he could already tell that he'd be ready eventually. And, he suddenly realised with a wonderfully warm feeling, he wouldn't have to do it alone.

Because he wasn't alone anymore.

His disbelieving smile grew as his father's hips began gently grinding against his ass, rubbing the Friesian's half-hard flare against his son's prostate with deliberate slowness. It felt so good to have a father again. It felt so good to feel wanted. He could do anything with the support of someone who desired and cared about him. Even...

"...Dad?"

"Hmm?"

"I...I thought about it."

"So quick?"

"Yeah. Let's... let's do it."

Jaeger breathed in a slow and satisfied breath. "So proud of you, son," he said at last. "I'll set it up."

***********

Dylan sat on the couch, watching his father pace around the room like a frustrated panther. He'd been doing it for nearly half an hour; he was going to wear a hole in the rug.

"Dad," he said patiently for the tenth time. "Just sit."

"What time did he say?"

"He said three. It's only just gone three. Sit down."

Patrick made a tight noise and kept pacing. Finally, a knock at the door made his head snap around like a raptor's, laser-focused on the sound but unmoving. Dylan waited a moment to see if Dad would open the door, then sighed. "Please don't make this awkward," he implored as he walked to the door and pulled it open. Jaeger and Maverick waited outside, looking very different from one another. The Friesian may as well have been stopping by to pick up some loaned crockery, while Maverick's tension could be read in the muscles of his neck and the angle of his ears. Dylan smiled, feeling more relieved than he expected to see his friend again, and Maverick gave a half-hearted smile back. Then his eyes slid over Dylan to the interior, and it faded again.

"Hello, Dylan," Jaeger said, and Dylan fought to not bite his lip at how sexy the stallion sounded.

"Um. Hi." He stepped back to let the two horses enter, watching his father in case the zebra had a nervous breakdown at the sight of his ex-lover. He'd been a shivering bundle of nerves after Maverick failed to come home that night. Even once Jaeger had visited the next day to pick up the Clydesdale's things and explain the new arrangement, his father had remained on edge. What had sounded like a screaming match next door weeks later had sent him straight back to being a complete bundle of nerves, and only when Jaeger came by the next day to propose this little gathering had he calmed down. A little.

Oddly, he seemed to relax at the sight of Maverick, giving the stallion a weak smile and a half-hearted chuckle. One of his hands was still trying to dig itself into his thigh, though, and when Maverick came to stand in front of him, it seemed that the two of them might have spent the rest of their lives simply staring at one another if Jaeger hadn't stepped up and put a hand on Maverick's shoulder in an oddly protective gesture.

"Hi, Patrick," the Friesian began, shooting him a winning smile. "I'm so glad you agreed that this was something we could do together." Dylan's father swallowed a few times, then nodded. Jaeger looked across at Maverick, who was staring at the floor now with the expression of a kid who'd been caught stealing. "Maverick has some things he'd like to say," the Friesian said, looking closely at the younger stallion, "but I know you have something you'd like to say first, Patrick."

Patrick looked as tense as a bowstring. "Yes," he said. That made Maverick's head pull up in surprise, and Dylan's heart skipped a beat for his friend. He hadn't known? Then...oh. This was going to be a ride. Jaeger seemed to know that because his arm dropped from Maverick's shoulder to sit around his waist instead, in an oddly intimate manner. Dylan quickly moved to stand beside his father and do the same. His father gave him a thankful look before continuing to stare at Maverick as he searched for his voice.

When he found it, though it wavered and threatened to fail, the torrent of words couldn't be stopped.

"I was so happy when you and Dylan became friends, Maverick," he began. "I just wanted him to start doing hockey to give him confidence, but when he came home one day and said he had a new friend, I was over the moon. And then he told me who you were, and I was even more thrilled because I...I thought that finally, finally he had someone in his life who could show him how to make good decisions."

Tears sprang into Maverick's eyes, and he looked down again as Jaeger's slid an arm around him. Patrick gave a shuddering sigh. "I'm a terrible father," he admitted, voice cracking. Dylan looked at him in shock, and his father met his wide eyes with tear-filled ones." I really am, Dylan. I've hardly made a single decision that wasn't a huge fucking mistake. Porn seemed a good idea at the time, but it just made me shit at being happy with my life. Getting Dylan's mother pregnant was...well, only an fucking idiot thinks he will beat those odds. And getting your son's best friend kinda drunk to make him fuck you so you can imagine it's your son instead..." He choked up, biting his lip and taking huge, heaving breaths that calmed as Dylan gripped him tighter and sniffed his own sudden tears away. The room was silent but for the sounds of emotion until Patrick wiped his tears away and continued.

"The only thing I've fucked up in my life more than fatherhood is everything else, and the only reason I didn't fuck up fatherhood quite as badly as the rest is because Dylan needed me. I'm all he had. I knew that, and I knew if I fucked even that up, he'd pay the price. Because when you're a single parent, that's what you've got on your shoulders: someone's entire life. So when you came on the scene, it was the most wonderful thing, because it felt like--even if you didn't know it--I had someone else to help me. This other kid who had beaten such horrible odds in life and kept it together. Someone that could be an actual decent role model for my Dylan. Someone who wasn't the fucked-up mess that his father is."

His voice broke. "I'm not your dad, Maverick." Maverick said nothing, but nodded hard as he sniffed and rubbed at his eyes. Jaeger's arm tightened around him, though the Friesian remained calm and dry-eyed. "I'm so sorry. I wish I was, but I'm not. You had a dad, and you lost him, and I'm a fucking idiot, but I'm at least smart enough to know I can't just step into those hooves without earning it. And I didn't earn it." He placed a hand on the one Dylan was resting on him. "But you gave me a gift greater than I can ever repay, and I am so fucking grateful for that, Maverick. Every single fucking day. No matter what happens between us, if you never want to see me again, if you want to scream at me, hit me, I deserve it all, but..." He gulped. "When I see my son smile at me, and realise afresh each time that he loves me the same way I love him..." His throat seized up again, and he shook his head to try to clear it through the tears. Maverick was crying too, body shuddering in Jaeger's grip as the Friesian stroked his mane.

"I thought..." Patrick said, with a big sigh, "I thought I could give you a family in exchange, but I wasn't ready. You're a stallion who's had to stand on his own for so long, I forget how young you are. I...I let myself believe you just needed space." He took a deep breath. "I lied. To you and myself. I was so terrified about fucking everything up, I just...ignored it." He stepped forward, meeting Maverick's eyes as the stallion lifted his head. "I'm sorry, Maverick. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you when I saw you needed it. I'm not your dad, but I am--was--your family. For a while. And I let you down. And I--"

The rest of his words were lost as--with a shuddering breath and two quick steps forward--Maverick embraced the zebra in a bear hug. Patrick went limp, bursting into tears and hugging the Clydesdale back even as Maverick wept against his back. "You didn't," he sobbed. "You didn't. I did. I'm s-sorry..."

Dylan joined in, embracing both of them and adding his tears to the rain that fell between them as they cried and hugged and mumbled the half-finished things that come from mending broken hearts. The young zebra felt the disconnect between his father and best friend closing up; not entirely, but enough. Enough for now.

When they separated, each one a mess but looking hopeful, Maverick spoke first. "I'm sorry for how I behaved," he said, looking between the two zebras. "To both of you. I was a fucking asshole. You gave me a home, and I was a shit. I... I'm gonna try to be better. Jaeger is...showing me. But..." He took a breath. "I... don't think I can come back."

"Maverick!" Dylan blurted. It felt unreal, seeing his friend behaving so contritely, so unlike the overwhelming stallion he'd been before. "Don't. Please. You can't live alone. You can stay here. Dad? Right?"

"He's not going to be alone," Jaeger assured him, standing next to the three of them and looking at Maverick with a proud expression. "He's staying with me."

Dylan blinked. "Oh. Okay. Uh...wow." That made a bit more sense. The looks the two horses kept exchanging, the closeness. But...holy shit. Maverick...and Jaeger Hawk.

Jaeger read his look and smiled. "Maverick and I had a...long chat," he said, arm sliding over Maverick's shoulder, "and we've agreed that he could do with some focused attention on how his life is going. Which I can provide." The Clydesdale's ears flicked in embarrassment, and Patrick clasped his hands to his face.

"Oh, Maverick," he said, tears forming again, "I'm so glad. Thank you, Jaeger." The Friesian waved the thanks away, looking down at Maverick as the Clydesdale wiped away his tears and met his partner's look with an oddly demure expression. Jaeger raised his eyebrows, and Maverick bit his lip, then nodded. When he saw Dylan frowning at him, a little smile whipped across his lips, confusing the zebra even more. What the fuck was going on?

"No thanks needed," Jaeger assured him. "From you, that is. However, Maverick doesn't think his words--sincere as they are, please don't imagine they're anything less--are enough apology." He clicked his tongue, and the Clydesdale took two steps forward, eyes still looking down. "He'd like to ask you something."

Maverick took a deep breath as the two zebras looked at him. "I...I asked Jaeger if he wanted to join a foursome the last time I was here. I was too rude and selfish to ask you first, though, like I should have." He looked at each zebra in turn. "But I...still think it would be fun. So...would you two join Jaeger and me for a foursome? If...just if you like."

Dylan's eyes flew to the dark stallion standing proudly in their living room, radiating calm and composure even as his every slight motion made one of his innumerable muscles flex. A foursome with fucking Jaeger Hawk? Was this happening?

But before he could scream yes and snatch the opportunity, it got even better. "If you're unsure," Jaeger said, "Maverick's got something to show you. He's been a very good boy lately, and he's worked hard at learning how to share." With another click of his tongue, Maverick began undressing. Beneath his clothes emerged the glint of metal and the shine of smooth leather. The harness was a snug fit, perfectly accentuating the Clydesdale's muscled frame. Dylan felt his body responding even before Maverick's pants dropped to show off a very well-stuffed jockstrap which successfully hid his goods from view - but did absolutely nothing to cover up the ass and doughnut that appeared when he turned around.

Nor the slight trickle of horse semen oozing out of its well-fucked depths like a horny libation.

As Maverick got down on his knees and offered his ass up to the stunned zebras, Jaeger stepped closer and spread his hands wide in satisfaction. "I believe in repayment in kind where possible," he explained. "And I believe you are both owed a great deal of Clydesdale ass. So, please: have his." He grinned. "He is very much a fan, I promise you. So much so that I had to fill him twice before we came here today, so excited was he at the idea of getting to feel his two favourite zebras balls-deep inside him for the first time. I would like to say it is a form of punishment as well as recompense...but I fear he no longer thinks of it as such." He smirked and smacked a palm against one of Maverick's ass-cheeks, which jiggled and made the horse nicker.

Dylan's head spun. Two loads...of porn star cum...inside Maverick's ass? Maverick moaned loudly from his prone position, and Jaeger patted his ass. "His cock will not be a going concern until both of you are done enjoying him as he is now"--Jaeger's eyes locked so quickly onto Dylan, he jumped--"but mine will be available for your pleasure as well." He smirked. "My balls are definitely refilled, if you were concerned." Then he looked at Patrick with something more approaching respect. "And it would be a privilege to be able to show you what I learned from your performances, sir."

"Guh," said Patrick, glassy-eyed, and Dylan hurriedly grabbed his arm and tugged on it. His father looked down at him distractedly, clearly imagining...well, probably some of the same things Dylan was imagining.

"Yes," the young zebra said quickly to their wonderfully oversexed guest. "Oh, fuck, yes." Patrick blinked and nodded in agreement, and Jaeger smiled like a well-fed tiger.

"Wonderful," he purred. "Now, I mean no disrespect, but my bedroom is much more spacious than here and has many more...accessories." His eyes glinted like cut sapphires. "Won't you follow my handsome son and I to our home, and we can begin?"

***********

Dylan had to admit that the Friesian's bedroom was a lot more suited to a foursome than their lounge. His bed was bigger, the floor was luxuriously carpeted, and the array of sex toys standing casually along one shelf was glorious. Not that any of those would likely be needed, with four painfully hard equine erections at hand. He also had an impressive array of cameras, which he'd barely needed to begin asking if he could use before both zebras agreed.

"As long as we get a copy," Dylan had added, receiving a deliciously predatory leer from Jaeger in response.

"With pleasure."

The Friesian was...a force. Everything he said, every movement he made was so erotically charged. Nothing in the room--including the other three equines--could hold a candle to the sight of a naked Jaeger Hawk, standing amidst them like a horny god come down amongst mortals, ready to sire as many offspring as his endless balls could manage. He stood next to Maverick, who was on all fours on top of the bed, waiting patiently for someone to slide inside him. Waiting for whoever wanted to use a porn star's cum as lube while they slid deep into the sweet, tight warmth of a Clydesdale's ass...

"Who wants him first?" Jaeger asked brightly.

"Me," the two zebras said immediately, then looked at each other and laughed. Maverick gave a needy whimper, as if he had no trouble with the idea of both of them having him at once. Jaeger just smiled and came to stand behind and between them, sliding one arm over each. Dylan couldn't help staring down at the stallion's massive penis as it swung between them, visibly larger than either his or his father's. The same colour, too, by chance. How would that feel? Fuuuuck...

"If I might suggest," the Friesian said, his breath and sweaty pits adding yet more scent to the gloriously overpowering equine musk that already soaked the air. "If Patrick goes first, he can feel Maverick at what passes for his tightest these days, which I'd say he's earned. And then you, colt"--he stroked Dylan's neck--" can enjoy the taste and feel of your best friend filled not only with my cum, but your dad's." That did sound fucking good, actually. "And you and I can have some of our own fun while they're busy, cute thing," the porn star murmured at him, eyes half-lidded and pink tongue sliding over his lips. "I'd love to know if I can fuck you as well as your daddy does."

No deal had ever been sealed as immediately. "I'll go second," Dylan huffed, and watched his father peel off to go stand by Maverick, fondling his ass and murmuring things to him that made the Clydesdale's doughnut clench with every other word. Then Jaeger stepped up before him, towering over him, and lifted his head with a soft hand under his chin.

"You're a big fan, aren't you, Dylan?" he asked. The zebra nodded quickly, unable to stop his eyes from dropping to drink in the stud's incredible body. The Friesian obliged by reaching for his hands and placing them on his body, rumbling as Dylan began feeling him up.

"You're so hot," Dylan moaned. Jaeger felt firm everywhere, covered with beautiful muscle as only a porn star could be. The young zebra moved closer to his side, one hand cupping the big horse's balls as the other slid behind him to squeeze his ass like a ripe fruit. Jaeger put his arms behind his head and the zebra nuzzled into the revealed pit, his hips frotting his leaking cock against Jaeger's side with whimpers of delight.

"My son likes doing that too," Jaeger murmured, and Dylan looked at him dumbly, pleasure blanketing all his senses.

"Whu?"

"My armpit. Maverick likes it too."

Dylan looked across at his friend, who was lying with his chest flat on the bed, arms stretched out before him, eyes closed and drooling. Patrick wasn't even all the way inside him yet, but their combined moans were already outdoing the music Jaeger had put on. "Fuck...how did you...?"

"Boy needed a father's guidance," the Friesian said. "Now he has it."

Dylan looked up at the tall horse's handsome face and piercing blue eyes, lust burning endlessly inside him. "So it turns you on to fuck a son, huh?" He gripped the Friesian's ass tighter before slapping it firmly a few times, then slid his other hand under his cock, rapidly jerking him off. "My dad fucks me really well. And you can't beat his loads. I'm so full of him after that I can barely walk. You think you can do better?" He dropped the black horse's cock and grabbed his nipple, tweaking it to see the stallion's reaction. It made him snort harder, and pant as the young zebra fanned his arousal to its peak.

"I'm sure your dad fucks you with deep love, Dylan--"

"He's the best I ever had."

"--so I'm not even going to try to match that." He stroked one of Dylan's nipples in return, then bent down to give it a light nip with his teeth. A beautiful fusion of pain and pleasure ripped through the zebra, making him scream in need. His legs shook, and Jaeger chuckled. "I'll just fuck you the same way I fuck every other father's son who..." His hand dropped to grip Dylan's nuts, clenching them at the top of his sack and pulling ever so slightly on them until Dylan whimpered and spat a gob of pre-cum onto the Friesian's abs. "...likes it a little rough."

"Wha..." Dylan tried to say, his mouth dry and his excitement at breaking point. "What way is that?"

Jaeger put his hands on Dylan's head and forced the zebra to his knees with a grunt. "Hard," he snarled. Dylan had a moment to gasp for air before Jaeger's flare was shoved into his mouth and down his throat in a single massive thrust, making him choke around its ridiculous thickness even as the sexual taste of dried cum flooded his mouth. "Lick my prick clean of my son's taste," the horse commanded. Dylan gagged and did his best, pushing as much of his tongue as he could along the beastly fuckstick to take in the exquisite taste of stud. The Friesian's hands held his head firmly, and after a few moments to let Dylan become acquainted with his new gag, began thrusting even deeper into him. Dylan felt the massive flare sliding down his throat like an entire apple while the horse's medial kissed his lips on each push. He desperately dragged air through his nostrils to keep from fainting, because that would be the worst thing that could happen now. He wanted to remember every incredible moment of his face being unrelentingly fucked by Jaeger Hawk.

But the porn star had his sights set on more than just a crude blowjob. Just as Dylan's throat started to feel so raw that each thrust was like a cannonball being dragged over sandpaper, the dick pulled out with a sound like a popsicle pulling free of a jar of caramel. Dylan gulped down air, his eyes watering, and stared in shock at how much of the horse's cock he'd managed to swallow.

"Your father trained you well," the horse said admiringly. He pulled Dylan to his feet and flipped him around, holding him tightly as he sniffed and snorted along his neck. "When last did he fuck you, boy?"

"Y-yesterday," Dylan breathed, whimpering and arching forward as two fingers pushed under his tail and inside him. In front of them, Patrick was fucking Maverick with long, thorough strokes as sweat dripped from his muzzle and tail. The hypnotic slap, slap of his balls against the Clydesdale's taint made the young zebra's balls clench in remembered pleasure. Dad had the best hole, but he could fuck so well too...

The fingers inside him found their mark and made his vision blank out to white for an instant as a feeling on the absolute edge of pleasure ripped through his nerves. The muscular arm gripping him suddenly made sense as he sagged, and Jaeger grunted with professional satisfaction. "You're a switch, aren't you, boy? But I bet you love getting a dick in you just a bit more, hmm?" The fingers moved like magic and wove another spell; Dylan arched back against the horse, one arm slamming up against his neck and gripping the rock-hard muscles for support. He whimpered like a trapped animal--albeit one willing to be trapped. "Or should I just finger you until you explode?" Jaeger mused. "Can your cumshot hit your father from here, boy?"

"D...dick...please...f-fuck me hard..." Dylan panted. He loved his dad with all his heart, and he loved Dad's dick only fractionally less than that. But right now, the only thing he needed in the entire world was to feel the gorgeous porn star fuck him until he couldn't walk for a week.

The horse's fingers withdrew when his cock entered. Dylan's feet momentarily left the earth as Jaeger's hip thrust slammed into him so hard it threw his lower body forward. He cried out in fear, but the stallion's arms were wrapped around his chest like iron bands, and he was in no danger of slipping loose. As his ass swung forward, Jaeger pulled back, and a good amount of his cock was pulled free of the zebra--only to be thrust back in again so hard on the return that the impact made Dylan's balls swing forward and slap back against himself with the same delicious plap as his father's nuts were doing to Maverick. Jaeger's powerful body absorbed all his momentum instantly and hurled it back, throwing him forward to begin the cycle over again.

It was fucking on a level Dylan had never imagined was possible. The stallion was using his overpowering physical might to do as he wished with the smaller zebra--and he loved it. He let his muscles go limp, trusting in the horse not to loosen his grip, and focused on tightening his hole up for the beautiful penis ramming into him, over and over, without flag or fail. The zebra could feel his belly distending from the massive dick, but that was just one of the many incredible sensations vying for his attention. His high-pitched cries every time the flare slid over his prostate joined the sounds of Maverick and Patrick's loose, wet fucking to saturate the thick air of the bedroom that now reeked of equine arousal and sweat. The spear of pleasure inside him was all he cared about at this moment--except the part of him that quivered with anticipation to know that Jaeger would eventually dump one of his legendary loads deep inside him.

He needed his dad to rim him after. He wanted to know how the porn star tasted.

The slap, squelch, moan and grunt of mating stallions was all there was for a while, as the four males gave themselves over to base pleasures. Dylan was vaguely aware of Maverick's cries becoming faster as his orgasm approached, and Jaeger's metronomic fuck-rhythm seemed to be accelerating to match it. It was hard to tell because, by now, the only thing Dylan felt below the waist was the hard throb of aching flesh, speared through by bolts of pleasure. But when Patrick started speaking to Maverick, encouraging him to cum, Jaeger responded similarly.

Dylan had cum already; twice, in fact. The pounding on his prostate had far exceeded his capacity for self-control. Now a spiderweb of semen hung from his shaft and balls, connected to a large pool underneath him and a not-insignificant splatter on his father's body, coating his lower back and thighs. When had he done that? Fuck, everything felt so good; this must never stop. He tried to tell Jaeger that, but his tongue had joined the general musculature strike.

"Don...thtop..."

"I'll make you cum, stud," Patrick murmured to Maverick, leaning down to kiss his back.

"I'll stop when I'm done," Jaeger growled, and Dylan melted a little more into his arms.

"You look so sexy with my dick in you, Mav..."

"And I'm done when my balls are empty and you're full..."

"F...fasser...hhhh...fasser..."

"Thank you for letting me fuck you, you gorgeous thing... I'm so...ffffhuuuck... I'm cumming, Mav, I'm cuuuUU--!"

With impeccable control, Jaeger's orgasm arrived at the same moment as Patrick's, halting his unending fuck as he held Dylan with rib-crushing strength, his dick buried far inside him. His roar of release made Dylan's ears ring, and the zebra brayed a long, happy noise of his own as he felt something hot smack hard into him from the inside before almost immediately spraying out through the slim gap between his ass and the horse's cock, splattering down his legs and onto the floor below. The unreal volume must match a zebra's, the way it kept coming. Dylan shuddered with pleasure at how glorious it felt to have the stallion's already-massive flare pulsating deep inside him like a new star.

The horse pulled that very flare free in a single colossal slurp before settling Dylan down, which gave the zebra a few seconds to force some life into his nerveless legs and not immediately collapse into a cummy puddle. With one hand resting against a cupboard, he watched Jaeger stride over to Patrick, his immense dick--unsoftened and semen-slick--swaying like a banner in front of him. Patrick's own orgasm was winding down, as Dylan could see from the expression on his father's face and the last, twitchy thrusts he made into Maverick's hole, each one pushing out another wash of semen. The horse yanked the giant zebra backwards like he was made of cardboard and dropped to his knees, opened his mouth, and swallowed Dad's entire impressive member in a single gulp. Patrick's yelp of surprise at being pulled out of Maverick changed immediately into a guttural bray, his hips thrusting unevenly to pump the dregs of his balls down the horse's throat.

More pertinently, it left his friend with a gaping, cum-filled ass and nobody to attend to it.

Dylan staggered closer, lying on the bed beside Maverick to look into his face. The Clydesdale could almost be sleeping, with his eyes closed and a cherubic smile on his lips. Dylan reached out to stroke them, and the horse's lips parted to take his fingers in and start suckling on them.

"Maverick?" Dylan said softly. The horse made a noise of acknowledgement but nothing more. "I can't believe Dad actually fucked you. It feels good, huh?" Maverick began panting in response, licking the tips of Dylan's fingers and then opening his eyes to reveal...need. Need so raw it took Dylan's breath away. "What did Jaeger do to you?" he marvelled, and Maverick gave a simple, happy smile.

"Helped me," he said simply.

"Do...you still top?" Maverick nodded, and Dylan breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank fuck. Would be a shame to lose that cock."

Maverick's expression grew more concerned, and he ran a thumb across Dylan's face. "I'm really sorry, Dylan," he whispered, sounding heartbroken. "I was so shit to you and your dad..."

"Ah, bud..." Dylan shook his head, quieting the horse. "I know you're not great at some stuff. Remember outside the gym that night?" Maverick nodded. "But we made it work. You helped so much! You got my dad and me together..." But Maverick didn't seem convinced.

"I made it all about my dick," he said. "And I didn't do enough for...you. You're such a good friend, Dylan. You kept trying, all the time. You shouldn't have."

"Dad was happy with you around, Mav. And so was I. You're my friend. Life was just tough."

A single tear slipped down Maverick's cheek, but he was smiling. "You're too fucking good for me, stripes."

"And you're almost too fucking big for me."

"Heh."

Dylan wiped the tear away and put on a thoughtful face. "But, am I too big for you?"

"No chance. My dad's huge."

"Oh, fuck, isn't he? I thought Dad--er, zebra dad--had loosened me up, but Jaeger just fucking...wrecked me." He shivered in happy memory and laughed at the hungry expression on Maverick's face. "What?"

"Let me taste him."

Dylan nickered, smirking at the horse and shuffling about on the bed to put his ass in range. "Eat up, then, you horny little--fuuuuuuck!"

Turned out that Maverick, the enduring ultra-dom, ate ass like he'd been born to it. Dylan's hands clawed into the blanket as his best friend slurped and tongued his sloppy hole like a fat, juicy melon. It wasn't more than a minute, but Dylan gasped when the tongue withdrew and looked back at Maverick with wide eyes and confusion.

"Don't stop! Holy fuck, Maverick, that feels fucking incredible--!"

"Fuck me," Maverick begged. "Please, Dylan, please. Fuck me like my dad fucked you."

The neediness, the whimpering tone, made Dylan feel a surge of power. "Fuuck, Mav...why does that make me so fucking hot?" He took his friend's cum-streaked muzzle in hand and looked down at him archly. "You sound like a needy zebra, Mav," he teased. His thumb pushed some of the semen around to make a stripe. "Look like one, too."

"I'll be your zebra, then, Dylan. Fuck my striped ass, please."

"As long as you whinny like one, horse." He jumped off the bed and slid across to Maverick's rear, where the aftermath of his third enormous equine cock of the day had left an impressive mark on the horse. His doughnut looked twice regular size, and enough cum to fill a kettle was soaking into the bed beneath him. Dylan was sure even his ass had never looked this used, despite his father trying his best.

He lined his cock up with the hole that palpitated before him, power suffusing him again as Maverick's needy begging doubled in volume--before having a better idea. Maverick almost started crying when he pulled his dick back. "No, no, no...Dylan...I need it..."

"Relax, you desperate slut," Dylan said, circling his friend's hole with a few fingers. "My dick can't measure up, but I know something that can." Pulling his fingers inward, he slowly pushed his fist in until Maverick's well-stretched flesh curled around it and welcomed it inside him. Maverick made a choked noise that certainly wasn't any sort of concern, and Dylan smiled as he pushed more of his arm inside. It was trivial; two equine porn stars had already had their way with him that day. The top half of a teenage zebra's arm probably fell just below that on the "getting fucked silly" charts. Not that Maverick minded; he sounded just as he had when Dad had been fucking him.

Of course, neither Dad's nor Jaeger's dicks could do this...

Maverick's one leg kicked out in uncontrollable reaction as Dylan began stroking his friend's deepness like it was priceless silk, and the horse's scream of pleasure rose in pitch before breaking apart solely from lack of air. Dylan's fingers danced, and Maverick clenched, moaned, and shook like a raft in a storm. The width of the zebra's elbow felt about right for Jaeger's medial, he judged, and his fist for his flare. Merely pumping that in and out made the stallion almost convulse; spreading the fingers out to tease him more deliberately looked fit to make him unravel from the feet up.

It felt incredible to give his handsome friend such pleasure, so directly. And most of it, he had to admit, was due to the supreme feeling of power. He never felt that when fucking Dad; he was much more interested in giving him all the pleasure he could. But somehow, burying part of his body this deeply in Maverick for the first time gave him a taste of the trip the Clydesdale must have been chasing ever since he started fucking his dad.

It wasn't something he thought he'd ever develop quite as acquired a taste for as Maverick had. Still, it certainly was intoxicating in the moment.

"Did you cum when my dad fucked you, Mav?" he asked. His other hand reached between the stallion's legs to feel the enormous balls that hung there. They roiled; he almost felt the sperm whipping around inside at breakneck speed. "Oh, dear, poor baby...you haven't cum at all today yet, have you? That's got to be agony for such a virile stud..." He gripped his friend's cock--so hard that it felt more like wood than flesh--and stroked it a bit, making the Clydesdale scream into the bedspread in lust. "I'll make you cum, then, Mav. Bros got to help bros, right?"

He slid his arm out of Maverick's asshole until his fingers could touch the horse's prostate. His other hand clenched firmly around the Clydesdale's flare, and he paused for a moment just to hear the cute whimpers the horse made. "Not long now," he assured him, then began working with both sets of fingers in tandem. Pushing, stroke, squeezing, caressing... Maverick's arms flew to either side and dug into the mattress. As if that would help. Dylan grinned, watching Maverick's beautiful anus wrapped around his wrist and his friend's balls clench and swing as the zebra masturbated the horse's flare with the easy motions any male equine knew. His flare was soaked in pre-cum and what might even be a drizzle of true cum that his overloaded balls simply couldn't hold back; judging from his engorgement and how firm his prostate had become, they wouldn't need to wait very long at all.

"Cum, Maverick," he urged, and the horse whimpered in agonising need. "Cum for me, bro. Cum for...Jaeger." His friend's blood-hot flare grew a tiny more in Dylan's palm. He was so fucking close. It must be agony. The least he could do was make it a perfect one.

"Cum for your porn daddy, stud."

Maverick seemed to at once explode and deflate, all his tension and energy redirected into the staggeringly powerful cumshot that actually stung Dylan's palm with its velocity. He pulled his hand back quickly, and his other slid from Maverick's ass as the stallion rolled over onto his back, his hands wrapped around his shaft, head thrown back in a bellow that was even louder than Jaeger's had been. His cock stood up perfectly straight from his crotch; his balls had utterly vanished, sucked up so deep inside him that nothing but a wrinkled sack remained. Every inch of his prick looked like it had been redone in bas relief; every vein, every wrinkle, every nub on his obscenely swollen flare shining with lube and pre-cum, practically shimmering with what must be a genuinely unearthly amount of pleasure.

His second or third cumshot--Dylan didn't know how many jets the Clydesdale had fired into the bed before rolling over--hit the ceiling with enough force to make a splat. The zebra could see each one barrelling up his friend's massive urethra like an artillery shell before exploding out of his tip with an audible squirt and a wild spray of cum that hit everything within a couple of metres. But mostly Maverick. He already looked like he'd just stepped out of a shower, and still, the cum came. It was the biggest orgasm Dylan had ever seen him have. It was zebra-worthy.

His scream renewed itself with each breath, as if the energy of the climax could not be ejaculated solely with fluid. The gobbets of him on the ceiling were oozing back down like leery stalactites, and the bedspread was ruined. His balls made a reappearance, like shy woodland creatures emerging from their burrow after a violent storm. His ejaculation stopped shooting upward as if fired from a rifle and began squirting out in messy rivers instead, pooling on the stallion's heaving chest and running down his V into the folds of his sheath.

A muffled cry to his left pulled Dylan's gaze away from that magnificent sight and gave him another. Jaeger had lifted his father up against a wall at some point and was fucking him with slow, deep thrusts. Patrick's muzzle was buried in the Friesian's mane, and every time the draft's powerful hips thrust forward, the zebra gave a cry that the hair only partially muffled. Then, as Dylan stared in wonder--his arousal peaking even higher to see his father so supremely dominated--Jaeger began to pick up his pace, slamming his dick harder and harder into Patrick until the zebra abandoned all pretence and just screamed in blind lust over the stallion's shoulder with each hilt.

Dylan would have been able to tell when the Friesian orgasmed even if he hadn't whinnied at ear-splitting volume as he did so. His smooth, pendulous balls, apparently unfazed by the giant load they'd already pumped into Dylan, pulled up a little in their wrinkled sack and started throbbing, each one pulsing a cumshot at their peak before dropping a distance and rising again. Dylan counted fourteen squirts before Jaeger finally let Dad's hooves slip back to the floor and withdrew from his ass alongside a staggering outflow of cum. Patrick slid to the floor with an expression of pure happiness, and Jaeger stood with his hands in his mane for a moment, breathing deeply, looking down at the zebra he'd just fucked silly.

"Thanks for the lessons, Teach," he panted before turning back to Maverick and Dylan. His cock veins throbbed in time with his heart as the fat, slick member swayed, making it almost look alive. Was this fucking stud ever soft? When he saw Maverick on his back, seemingly out for the count, he raised an eyebrow at Dylan before noticing the zebra's wet arm and grinning at him.

"Can't wait to watch that on the video," he grunted, licking his lips.

The idea of ultra porn star Jaeger Hawk watching him perform on a video was absolutely delicious. Dylan bit his lip and felt some cum squirt down his leg as his hole tightened in excitement. The stud walked over and pressed his cock against Dylan's side, smiling down at him. "Hey, kid," he said. "You're a better fuck than many of the guys in my films."

Perfection achieved, Dylan waited to die. When he didn't, he instead remembered to start breathing and gabbled some thanks to the gorgeous horse, who patted his mane, lifted his cock with one hand, and--with a grunt of effort--squirted some more cum out onto Dylan's chest before rubbing it over him and down to coat his cock. Dylan dared not move as the porn star casually masturbated the zebra with porn-semen, fresh from being injected into his father. "For the memories," Jaeger explained eventually, letting Dylan's cock go and winking at him. "And because you've got a hot dick."

"T...thank...mmmh..." Dylan gave up, grabbing himself and bringing himself to another orgasm with a few second's frantic masturbation with Jaeger fucking Hawk's cum as lubrication. His cumshot flew across the room and hit Maverick, making no difference to the absolute mess of semen that his friend already lay in, like a boat atop a pale sea.

Dylan sank to his knees as his brain did victory laps, then crawled towards his father and sat against the wall next to him, panting and shivering as his skin cooled back to a more reasonable temperature. Dad's hand found his, and their fingers entwined as they watched Jaeger take a seat next to Maverick, one hand stroking across his son's near-gaping hole. He looked across at the zebras and smiled.

"Pretty good start. Rest up, and we'll move on. There's...hmm. Two or three hours of space left on the cameras. Time for a few more important things." He pointed at the two striped equines. "I want to see you two fuck, for a start. And then I think my son's hole might be ready for two zebra dicks." His eyes glittered. "At the same time."

A vast moan of approval from Maverick turned into a happy cry when Jaeger slid to bury his face in his son's ass and start eating it. Dad watched the scene with wide eyes, then turned to his son, looking worried. "Um," he said softly, "I'm not sure I can manage another three hours, son..."

Dylan patted his hand. "Don't worry, Dad," he assured him with a smirk. "If you get tired, you can take Maverick's place, and Jaeger and I will...make a plan."

Dad groaned, head falling back and eyes closing. "That fucking dick of his..."

"I'll make sure you get another ride on it, Dad."

"Best son." Maverick began speaking between pants, begging his father to do more than rim him, and Dad shook his head in wonder. "He's like a totally different horse."

Dylan nodded, then stopped. "Nah," he said. "I think he just got lucky enough to get a dad that understands what he needs." Dad squeezed his hand with a smile, and they watched Jaeger pushing Maverick to fresh heights of pleasure and gathered their energy.

The night was still so young.

***********

In the end, the cameras ran out of space well before exhaustion finally claimed the equines. They collapsed on and around one another, a mass of arms and cum-soaked bodies, snoring and grunting and farting in the throes of deeply satisfying sleep. When morning broke, a brief and sloppy orgy paved the road to breakfast and the magnificent sight of Jaeger's body, lit by dawn light, cooking pancakes while Maverick deepthroated him. That inevitably led to him deepthroating the zebras, and in no time the four of them were coupling yet again, in the lounge this time, heedless of any who might spy them through the windows.

By early afternoon, Patrick had to admit--after being offered yet another ride on Jaeger's dick--that he was finally too tired for further passion, and the gathering naturally ended. While Jaeger went upstairs to make a copy of the footage for the zebras, Maverick remained to talk and reminisce and promise that they would be welcome to visit at any time. Jaeger returned and handed a disc to Dylan, explaining how to use it, while Patrick pulled Maverick into a tight hug and held him there for some time. He may have had a tear in his eye when he let go. Or perhaps just a glint of the sun.

"Glad you're happy, Mav," he told the Clydesdale gruffly, reaching a hand out to ruffle his mane. "And...thank you." The horse had made up the height gap between them since the year before, and Maverick could look his friend's father straight in the eye as he nodded back. All of him ached after almost a full day of being used--delightfully, he was happy to admit--by the other three males. Yet a much deeper ache had faded away, and with it, the need to prove anything.

"Glad you are, too, Patrick," he said, leaning in to give the zebra a peck on the cheek. "Take care of Dylan."

"Always."

They said their goodbyes with jokes about the long commute home, and as the zebras walked home, Jaeger shut the front door and looked at his new son expectantly.

"Well?"

Maverick squirmed. "I...I really liked it."

Jaeger ruffled his mane and grinned. "I could tell. And you don't have to take my word for it." He held up his copy of the footage from their day of debauchery. "Can we watch it?"

Maverick blinked. "Huh? Now?"

"Yeah. I bet you don't even remember most of it." Jaeger's eyes glittered. "Plus, I wanna see how fucking hot Jaeger Hawk looks wrecking Patrick Keevey's ass."

Maverick giggled, and Jaeger smiled. He slid the disc into the machine and sat down next to Maverick, who poked his pec. "You gonna talk about yourself in third person from now on, Dad?" he asked.

"Well, it's not like it's my real name." He flicked on the television, and four very horny equines appeared and began pairing off.

Maverick blinked. He'd never considered that Jaeger's name was--must be--a porn alias. "Wait... what's your real name then?"

Jaeger took a long moment to answer. "Bucephalus," he said simply.

"Hah! Jeez, can you imagine..." But Jaeger's expression didn't look amused, and Maverick's jaw slowly dropped. "Wait, what? Seriously?"

"Unfortunately," his father replied with a long-suffering look.

"What? How?"

"I knew him before I got into the business, and I guess he liked my name enough to steal it. Only found out when he got famous." Jaeger slipped an arm around his son's shoulders and snorted. "What a dipshit. Guess what his real name is, though?"

"Um...Chester?"

"Quince." Jaeger barked a laugh. "He's a fucking fruit."

Maverick giggled, then sat in silence for a moment, thinking. "Do you...want me to call you Bucephalus?" he asked.

The Friesian made a face. "Please, no, son. Anything but."

Maverick nodded and slid closer to his father, tucking his head into the nape of his neck. "I prefer Jaeger anyway," he said.

The big black stallion took a deep breath and hugged his son. "Me too, Maverick. Me fucking too."

On the television, a very content Clydesdale started to moan with pleasure.