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When your boyfriend is a horse, you get really good at using your mouth.

And your hands.

And, one time when you were both really drunk, your footpaws.

Regardless, your ass is off the table. I know, Twitter would make you think every fox with cute leggings and an appetite for cock can just bend over and take god-knows-how-many inches without so much as a practiced moan. It's hot, it gets attention, and to be honest it can make a less god-gifted fox a little envious.

But you make do. Kev is sweet, and I really do believe him when he says I'm more than enough to satisfy him in the bedroom. We have fun. I'm quite good with my mouth, and he's not afraid to use fingers where that heat he's packing won't fit.

Our sex life is fine.

And the relationship is great. Better than great. I don't have that much experience with long-term stuff, but we've been going steady about a year now. It's comfortable. There's even a real chance we move in together after I finish this semester of college. Even our names are cute together, Calvin and Kevin, though we typically go by "Cal" and "Kev" respectively.

You don't need anal circumference to surprise your boyfriend with boba tea and sushi for two after a day's work.

So... it's not that the sex wasn't enough. It wasn't jealousy of amateur pornstars and size queens that made me wish I just... could.

It was Kev.

There came a night, well, morning, a few months back where things felt different. We were up early, he didn't have to log in to work for an hour, and fooling around turned into lazy head under the bedsheets. I was taking my time, doing that fun trick where I press my tongue flat against the underside of his shaft and lap away each new dribble of pre - I think we both love that. I remember him nudging my head down with a guiding, and large, hand atop my head as I really got going. Once he's nice and slick, I can guide my lips down with my left hand while my right strokes over what my mouth can't take. I love the sweet talk he gets up to when he's slowly building. Calling me a good boy, letting himself moan n' groan and god-willing whinny - I've finally gotten through to him that, yes, it's fucking hot when you let it out and don't just breathe hard.

But even with Kev starting to do his cute horsey nose breathing as he got close, the usual pride in getting him there was missing.

I wanted more.

I wanted his cock in me not just because I wanted a big cock in me. I wanted his cock in me because god dammit, nothing gets me going more nowadays than the thought of seeing my boyfriend on the other end of it. I wanted to feel what he's like on that wonderful ebb and flow of body-against-body lovemaking. I wanted to feel the roll of his hips, and the sweet give and take of inviting the one you love under your tail. I wanted to be able to give that to him.

God dammit, I wanted to ride my pony.

We still joke that I was "the best alarm clock he's ever had" after that lovely little tango ended the usual way. He sat up and came neatly in my mouth. I let him get the last rope or two over my muzzle for him to admire, while I finished myself off onto a towel. And if I'm lucky (as I think I was that morning), he sticks a finger up my ass while I finish myself off onto a towel, calling me "darling" between kisses on my neck.

Then I hit the shower, leaving the door unlocked for him to swing through and squeeze into the stall that frankly isn't even big enough for him, all while I try to take the comments about "how tight you felt" as an offhand compliment instead of a literal physical barrier to some grander possible sex life.

Woe is me. The world's tightest fox, playing my tune on my little violin as my handsome stallion boyfriend looks on.

Living ten minutes apart from your significant other allows you to see each other basically whenever you two want. It also allows you to keep secrets really easily. A week after that especially good morning sex, I went and bought myself a secret. His name is Clyde, and according to the website promises to give me the "Extreme, Knee-Shaking Orgasms Only a Stallion Can Provide". There is a little meter on the box for Intensity which promises Clyde is "a 6/5". As far as I can tell, Clyde is about as thick and long as the real deal. The color is straight black without the splotches of color on Kevin's actual wang, and the texture is simply "silicon dildo" instead of that unique equine, leathery dick-skin that I'd honestly be concerned if they could replicate in an easy-to-clean toy.

Now yes I'm horny, but I'm not stupid. Well - that stupid. I have a couple of toys without fancy names that constitute a current "maximum capability" if you catch my drift. And I bought an extra bottle of good water based lube because god knows I am going to need it. Before long I had a free evening, three toys on the bed with me, and a can-do foxy attitude.

A can-do foxy attitude can only get you so far.

My previous biggest toy, which I figured to be maybe six inches and pretty thick for a non-horsecock, was already worth ten or fifteen minutes of stretching, four reapplications of lube, and a hell of a lot of determination. Clyde is at least double the length, and has a medial ring.

I quickly realized this was a marathon and not a sprint. You can't just keep putting a bigger fake penis in your ass over the course of an hour until you can fit Tzar Bomba. What I'd foolishly hoped was maybe a weeks worth of training became another $120 dollars of sex toys, another bottle of lube, a tub of whatever "psyillium husk" is, a bottle of psyillum husk pills because the mix-in stuff was icky, a month and a half of every-other-evening spending a half hour of my day to stick plugs up my ass, and substituting half of what I eat for leafy green salads.

So many fucking salads.

If you could get sick from spray-on sex toy cleaner, I'd be patient zero. But in time I learned, if you stick to the plan, you can slowly, slowly, sometimes painfully, make progress. The day I fit the toy one inch longer than my original largest was like a mini holiday. I nearly ordered a burrito to celebrate.

Nearly.

This was easy enough to keep from Kev. It's not hard to lie about why you're suddenly on a salad kick, even if you're already firmly in the "twink zone". If my head wasn't as deep into my own ass as these new toys I could have just told him, "Hey buddy ol' pal, I've spent a sizable chunk of my spare time and money this month to fuck you better."

But half the reason for keeping things under wraps was, in a weird way, it kept me going. One gay fox trait I do have is a penchant for drama. To surprise him one night, take it like a champ, and receive my "WORLDS BEST BOYFRIEND" trophy in the mail the following week. To give the gift of a normal sex life like it's some big reveal. Surprise, honey, my butt works.

The most enticing reason came about by chance. At the rate of progress I was at, I'd be able to take Clyde riiight around that one-year anniversary mark.

Fuck paper, I'd be jumping ahead and getting wood as my one-year anniversary gift.

It was at least enough to get me through two months of salads, weird brown pills, and farting three times as loud as I ever had before. Two months of thinking in the back of my mind "just you fucking wait" while going down on Kev. One night I swear he almost caught wind, slipping two fingers inside while finishing me off.

"Woah, that was easier than usual. You're really turned on aren't ya Cal..."

"Heh, guess so..." The grin spread across my face playfully coy for a completely different reason. I think I rolled the "dirty little liar" fox racial trait at character creation instead of "invincible butt slut."

Now I've already mentioned I can be, on occasion, a fucking idiot. Not three maxed credit cards and over half my savings in crypto like my brother, but I have a tendency to... overpromise. The anus has diminishing returns. Don't get me wrong, I'd made very, very real progress over the last two months, and I'd feel a lot better stepping up to a... hung buck. Something big like an elk or a caribou, not just a deer. I'd be the talk of Santa's stables.

But with a week left until the big anniversary date, I was juuust able to handle the largest unnamed dildo in my now doubled collection, having finally moved past the large training plug. I'd be lying if I said it wasn't kind of hot being able to take a new biggest dick regardless of what it meant for me and Kev. The sensation is incredible, if a lot. I'd learned to appreciate that "full" feeling even when it's too tight to comfortably thrust in and out of myself. I'm a little embarrassed to admit it, but it was just as hot seeing the thing disappear into my ass. I have a tripod for less sinful pursuits, but I got a couple of really good videos of that thing sinking down inside of me, letting what moans may come sing freely for the poor souls in this off-campus apartment complex with more meaningful intentions for their Thursday afternoon than I.

Maybe I have more in common with those OnlyFans foxes than I'd thought.

Still, the dilemma of jumping from Large Dong to "6/5 intensity" in a week was very real. God dammit you shoulda seen what my dumb horny brain was doing trying to make it work. You want a diet plan, try being a horse loving slut. I was planning a toy session a day and monitoring my fiber and food schedules like an MMA fighter cutting weight. Any fun of "big penis hit prostate" had been completely overtaken with this drive that I was gonna fucking do this.

And, technically, I did. Two days before the anniversary dinner date, Clyde's head finally squished in under my tail. It wasn't easy. It probably hurt, but I was too busy fist pumping alone in my room at 7pm like a goober to care. The next 15 minutes I spent making sure I could reliably get the head in, get things lubed up enough for some actual motion, and do it from different positions. And sure enough, as tight a fit as it was, it was doable. Clyde popped my horse cherry. I had claimed my birthright as a gay fox.

Kids, dreams do come true.

That was just the simulation. Sure, I had fun fooling around with myself even with the absence of cheesy foods and burritos, but the real test was to come. I can't stress enough that, as fun as those times alone were, they made the nights with Kev even more wanting. Thinking it was possible, then knowing it was possible... god, I was going to eat him up finally knowing I could do it. I gave my ass a well deserved break the day before our anniversary. Before going out to dinner, I did a little prep - loosened up, and did laundry with that largest plug inside. Briefly, I considered wearing it to dinner, but I don't think L'Atelier du Jardin is the most kink friendly spot in town.

The next two hours I managed to not think about it too much. Kev looked adorable. He wore the orange flannel I like, and the fancy brown pants that are secretly comfy jeans. Kevin doesn't need to try too hard to look good, he's got a kind face with deep set brown eyes that are easy to get lost in. His body is nice, he works out a normal amount for your mid-20s, and being a stallion doesn't hurt in the muscle department even if he's not exactly "buff". He's tender. When we're alone, he likes to put his arms around me. When we sleep together, he likes to keep a hand on my arm even when we aren't spooning, almost like a really attached pet.

I'm not in love with him. It's only been a year after all.

But I really like the idea of falling in love with him.

I arrived at the restaurant a little more gussied up, wearing a vest my mom had given me for Christmas the previous year. My pants were not secretly $45 comfy jeans, but proper gray dress pants. Not that I minded of course. Standing outside the restaurant, he gave me a warm hug and a kiss atop my head. I like that he never feels the need to hide PDA, even if the city is as chill as you can get for two gays in their early 20s sharing an indirect kiss before a dinner date.

We're not usually fancy restaurant types, so it was fun just splitting a $21 dollar appetizer that would make up the entirety of the cost of a usual date catered by Noodles and Company. Chatting over our artichoke dip and fancy schmancy bread, we spoke briefly about my upcoming finals and his latest work crunch before things got more sentimental. He told me how happy he was that we met at Danny's birthday party, and how he didn't want to imagine the last year without me with him. I told him about how I nearly skipped the birthday party since Danny did, and still does, owe me $25. We laughed, joked about making a separate tab to bill Danny's bum ass for the appetizer, and the main course arrived.

It's a damn good thing that $36 Mahi Mahi was the best fish I've ever put in my mouth. Not that I really had reason to care, Kevin was handling the bill on account of the "having a real job" thing. I tutored part time and had my parents chipping in for most of my rent while I'm still in school, but it was a comfortable agreement between Kev and I that any real costs of spending time together came from his software dev salary. His rosemary chicken was not as good as my dish, but he didn't seem to mind as we continued sharing stories over white wine.

I felt my cheeks go red when he brought up our first date. It was a total fucking disaster. The coffee shop I was going to take him to closed that very week, so we went to the one across the street. Their chai tasted like Big Red gum. He had a roommate at the time, who was holed up in his room because, minutes before we arrived, he'd vomited in the sink. The leftover cake Kev was planning to share with me while we watched TV on the couch had gone bad, hence the aforementioned puke situation. There was a new stand up special from a comedian he liked that I didn't know, so we put that on. After twenty minutes, we turned it off because he hadn't left the topic of cancel culture for the entirety of his set, and the awkward tension was a hell of a lot more amusing then what we were watching.

We didn't fool around, not that I was planning to on the first date. I admitted that yes, I thought about politely telling him I wasn't interested after... all of that. But he was nice and we both ran into nonsense outside of our control. I told him that's another thing I appreciate about him, he has that innate ability to calm a situation and think rationally. Not the best when you just want to vent without hearing real solutions to your problem, but it's something I need a lot more of in my life.

For better or worse, restaurants this fancy don't give you enough food in an appetizer and entree to fill you up, or maybe I was just ready to binge after so much colon-friendly dieting. I had a creme brulee, he had a tiramisu. This time he won the "better food" non-contest, not that I should be having espresso before limit testing my butt. He reached his arm across the table while we ate dessert, and we held hands as we finished up and shared a few more innocuous stories.

Maybe I am starting to love him.

His apartment is within walking distance of the restaurant, and I had found street parking where I could leave my car overnight, so we walked together back to his place. It was a chilly night, which made the warmth of his body all the sweeter. He tucked his arm around me for the short trip, while I did my best to rest my head against his shoulder while keeping up with his longer strides. I'd brought a present along, one which wasn't a trained ass - a brown cashmere scarf that I thought would suit him nicely. We were about halfway through the new season of Stranger Things, and as we talked about watching some more tonight, I wondered if he was thinking the same question of "Sex before or after?" as I was.

I didn't have to wait long to learn the answer. Once we were past his front door, his hands were on me the moment I set my present down.

"Not gonna open gifts first?" I asked, my tone making it very clear I was anything but disappointed.

"They can wait." He kissed me, pulling me into a deep, touchy embrace. I felt his broad hands running down my back while I invited his tongue into my mouth, tasting white wine again and moaning softly back into him. We made out for a while, my hands doing their best to figure out the buttons of his flannel without opening my eyes. He took his time, massaging those thick digits into my rump, before finally getting my vest off and setting it down by my anniversary present.

"Bedroom?" He asked, taking off his unbuttoned shirt.

God he's cute with just his shirt off.

He let me control the flow. Sitting patiently on the foot of the bed, he watched me strip out of the rest of my fancy clothing until nothing but a much-less-fancy pair of tight pink briefs remained.

"Did you mean to pick my favorite?" He mused.

I had.

Kev kicked his pants aside so that only his black boxer briefs remained. It wasn't as overtly sexy as my get-up, but the thoroughly filled-out crotch was more appetizing than anything at L'Atelier du Whatever the Fuck. And that Mahi-Mahi was really fuckin' good.

I happily took my place between his knees, smiling up as I felt him through the fabric. He was mostly hard, the length already reaching the top of his right thigh.

"I'm gonna take good care of you, stallion." I smiled, already doing the sleepy bedroom eyes that gets him going. I could feel him still growing, stiffer to the touch as that outline grew longer against his leg.

"Go ahead, cutie." He urged me on while my hands finally tugged down those boxer briefs, his cock springing free but still leaning a bit to his right how it does. I never bothered to measure or ask, but he was presumably average for a horse. It was about as big as the toy, if anything a little girthier, with my hand able to grip around the length from the head to his medial ring.

I put my tongue to work, painting him with long broad strokes to give my hands some lubrication to work with.

"That's the stuff..." He spoke with a long sigh. "I could watch you dote over me all day Cal."

Much like the other end, there's a limit to what you can do with your mouth when your boyfriend is a horse. Thankfully for both of us, his head is sensitive enough that when I take it past my lips and seal them, I can hear his bed creak with the pressure of his hands pushing down on the sheets.

"Ah fuck..."

He lowered one of those big hands down to my face, grasping my snout while his thumb brushed against my cheek. "Go slow. I want to savor you. I want to look you in your eyes while you're taking care of me."

He didn't have to ask twice, after all, I knew this was only the appetizer. I closed my eyes in approval, before opening them half-lidded as I continued to work. My tongue rolled and lapped against the tip of his cock, a hand taking each half of his shaft in slow, deliberate strokes, made easier by the earlier oral attention. My efforts were quickly rewarded with a deep moan, and a salty bead of pre over my tongue. I spread it back over him, happy to savor the flavor for as long as he'd have me between his legs. He was at full attention now, staring down over me with a look of equal parts pleasure and patient appreciation.

"You know babe..." It was time to let him in on my secret, giving long, sensual laps along his shaft between sultry half-sentences. "I've been working on... a little special something."

"Oh? You said your gag reflex was..."

"No, not that." I couldn't contain the smile, probably breaking the vibe with how goofy my wide grin must have looked. "I bought a few toys, and I think I'm ready for you to try... making it fit."

The usually stoic face above me clearly couldn't contain his emotion either, more surprise than excitement as those eyebrows spoke volumes. "Oh. Wait, really?"

I nodded. "You got the lube?"

"Yeah, here..." He turned around, scrambling to the nightstand where he kept the bottle. "So how are you gonna like... did you bring anything to get you loose?"

"No, but I stretched before the meal and made sure everything was good to go. You should be able to get me warmed up with your fingers."

If there was any doubt in that man's mind, he was too curious to voice it. "Well, get your ass up here and let's see." He beckoned, squirting some of the cold goop onto his right hand.

The next couple minutes were a rush. He must have started to believe after feeling the difference with a third finger in there for the first time. I was situated so he could sit up and let me straddle on my knees, his hand reaching under me to lube up while his stiff cock pressed against mine. We kissed a little, but the upcoming action was on both of our minds, and matters were pretty down to business while he fingered me.

Ah, to go back to that moment before my hubris caught up to me.

We tried doggy first. I hiked my tail like a good little fox, he lined up behind me and... that wasn't happening. More lube. More fingers. I told him about Clyde, about the two and a half months, about how if I had to eat another salad I'd go feral. He did what he could to get me looser, and tried to stay hard.

Then we tried laying me back with a pillow under my lower back. This was... better. I could feel things were close. The right angle, the right amount of lube, I was one good push away from heaven. He could tell too, even if we'd been struggling for about ten minutes up to that point. On round three of him getting hard again, I took a deep breath, he rolled his hips forward, and...

"GAHHH!!"

I didn't mean to be so loud, but I also didn't expect that searing pain. Sure, there had been times in the training leading up to this where I'd have to take it easy for a few minutes or go back to something smaller, but this was sharp, immediate, and out of my control. Kev immediately drew out of me, having gotten no more than an inch and a half on that initial thrust.

"Shit shit shit... are you ok!?!..."

I drew sharp breaths, the pain still very much lingering with my right hand in a fist.

"Yeah. Fuck... FUCK. Shit, am I bleeding?"

Fresh concern came across Kevin's face as he checked. "I don't think so. When you're ready I can take a closer look to make sure, but I don't see anything."

"Ok. Good. Just... give me a minute."

We sat together for a while. Eventually, the pain subsided. I wasn't going to give it another go, I knew better than to tempt a tear like that, assuming I'd dodged one in the first place. Thankfully as the minutes went on, it didn't seem like any permanent damage had been dealt.

With both of us covered in a decent amount of butt lube, we figured it best to hit the shower. Cramped into the tight stall, I stood with my back against him and the water shooting over the both of us once we'd soaped off. He reached down to finish me off, but that wasn't working too.

I think it was the shame.

So I cried. I tried to hide it at first, but when I started to choke on my breaths the jig was up.

"I fucked up. I fucked it up." I didn't know if I wanted him to console me, but I didn't have much of a choice packed in there against him.

"You didn't fuck up."

"I spent two fucking months torturing myself only to ruin our goddamn anniversary." The tears were flowing now. Kevin held me tight against his wet torso, and I bawled. Any nebulous feelings of not being enough for him came roaring to the surface, and I hated myself for even believing I could do it in the first place. "You can comfort me, but please let me say it's my fault."

"It's not your fault."

Fucking rational-ass boyfriend.

"I wanted it so bad... I wanted to give you that. You deserve that. We just had a fucking fairy tale dinner and I can't even get you off."

"...What kind of fairy tales did you read with artichoke dip and creme brulee?"

He wisely changed his approach. Even I had to admit I'd sounded ridiculous.

"In the original version of the Aesop fable with the fox and the grapes... it was a fancy dinner. The birds were up there with... a whole fuckin' restaurant. Cooking with the sun and shit." The words still came out a bit choked, but he'd kept me from spiraling.

"And they were eating chicken?"

"Yeah, birds eat birds, shit's fucked up." I was still sad and angry, but it was harder to dwell on with the sheer nonsense coming out of our mouths. He'd gotten a laugh out of me. "The fox is jealous that they all get fancy food and can fuck their boyfriends in the ass. They had to censor and localize it. The original isn't suitable for children."

"Ah, one of those German ones." At this point we were both laughing. I think I was still crying, it was hard to tell in the catharsis.

That wasn't the end of our long shower, but it was as bad as things were allowed to get. We took our time, and I let him wash my body off with the woodsy-smelling body wash he uses. It would usually be pretty arousing getting rubbed down by his soapy hands, but I was still shaken and he seemed too concerned to pop a boner in the moment. But it was still intimate in an almost cozy way. The edge had been taken off, and while I was still frustrated and upset, I no longer felt bad about showing it. He could be handsy and sweet, and it didn't have to be in service of some climax or sexual rush.

It was nice. I don't think I've felt so comfortable with a partner in the middle of this much anxiety and distress.

Neither of us had to say aloud that sex was a no-go for the rest of the night. We cuddled up on the couch, and it only took about half an episode of Stranger Things to make me forget I was supposed to feel weird about what happened an hour ago. We asked one another what song we'd pick to wake us up from the bad guy's Freddy Krueger kill dimension. I could have thought of a funnier answer, but I figured that Flagpole Sitta was my best "get the emotions going" song (and, if you get me drunk enough, a Cal Karaoke staple). His answer was "Kids" by MGMT, and I think we are far away from 2008 for that to be a genuinely cool choice.

I slotted that in the back of my head for future playlist ideas and music recommendations. Or if I ever needed to bring his soul back to Earth with the power of song.

We watched another episode, then crawled into bed. He did the arm thing again, where he fell asleep within five minutes with his hand outstretched to touch my hip. Less "spooning" and more "if my hand leaves this fox's thigh I get an electric shock." Maybe not that begrudging. It took me a little longer to knock out, but I managed to fall asleep without dwelling too long on the events of the day or what would become of the Hawkins kids.

The next couple weeks were pretty unremarkable. Work kicked Kev's ass. Finals kicked my ass. On a good day, I played with my own ass - when I wasn't neck deep in my marketing notes. This was the penultimate semester, which meant I should probably be looking for a job now. The prospect of that made MKT-304: Digital Marketing Campaigns feel like a cakewalk in comparison. We didn't see each other much, but he got the feature he needed to develop done and deployed on time, and I got out of my finals feeling like I'd gotten nothing worse than a B, so it wasn't the end of the world.

It wasn't planned to be a celebration of the two of us getting over our respective work and school duties, but it kinda felt like it. Kev brought a six pack of pina colada sour from the microbrewery here I like. I made a massive pan of enchiladas. We'd talked enough about our day-to-day problems over messages over the last two weeks, and it was nice to just chat while stuffing criminally inauthentic tex-mex into our mouths.

"...I mean, it's gotta be vanilla?"

"No way." I immediately challenged him. "There are so many fruits that pair better with chocolate than vanilla." The last petty argument of the meal was underway, each of us on our second beer.

"Oh you're right. I like those chocolate oranges a lot. Probably orange."

This was a more acceptable answer.

"I love banana and chocolate. Like, if a place has milkshakes and you can mix a banana in, I'm getting that."

I may be a total bottom, but he thankfully passed on the literal low hanging fruit joke.

"Ooh, yeah. I'm a cookies and cream guy. An oreo shake. That's my weakness. I think half the weight I put on in college was McFlurries."

I took the last sip of my beer. Drinking my third of the evening was an enticing prospect. To save that last sour for some other time or just get hammered today...

"Speaking of bananas,"

There it was. Kev had each of our plates, taking them to the sink to scrub off.

"I'm honestly a little curious what your uh, training regiment was like when you were trying to surprise me on our anniversary."

Oh yeah, that. The embarrassment was fresher than I'd have liked.

"Yeah, uh... I just keep all that stuff in a little sin box under the bed."

"Can I see it? Or do you not want to think about it."

I couldn't quite put my finger on why I was afraid to show Kev my dildos and plugs. Maybe it was the failure thing. Maybe it was some sense that those toys were my personal time, something I hadn't invited Kev into yet. We didn't masturbate together, if one of us needs to get off, we just help each other out. He'd mentioned me bringing a dildo along sometime, but it just felt weird when he couldn't actually do it himself, y'know?

"Sure. I mean, it's just toys."

We made our way to the bedroom, which I had cleaned up in anticipation of his arrival. Clothes were in their proper place, the dryer was full and unfolded but he didn't need to know that. The bed was in a rare state of "made", and I'd tossed my collection of empty sparkling water cans off the desk in the corner. He sat at the computer chair while I grabbed the little box under my bed.

It was a respectable collection: three dildos, three plugs, toy cleaner spray, lube, a big silicone horse penis. I wasn't sure whether to feel proud of this, but admittedly it felt a bit exciting showing these off for him.

"These are the ones I had before I started trying to take the horse one, and these are the plugs I got to stretch and all that."

"Huh." He seemed genuinely interested, picking up the big, black horse dildo with equal parts curiosity and amusement. "And what's this big guy's name?"

"Clyde."

I will never forget that brief, quizzical look on his face. Yes, Kev, he does have a name.

"Oh... hi Clyde... This is more accurate than I thought. You did a good job matching my size. Just missing the bits of color I've got."

"Yeah, you can pay extra for custom and whatnot. You can probably shell out like two hundred bucks and get something closer, but that did the job."

It was hard to read Kev, but I wasn't picking up on any negative feelings going through my collection like this. Admittedly, I felt like loosening up and having a little toy session if not for the boyfriend in front of me.

"Do you want to show me sometime?"

I kinda did.

"Oh, yeah, actually... I do. In fact, if you wanna stick around and watch instead of the usual fooling, I'm feeling pretty good about using toys today."

I could see the curiosity light up in his eyes. "Yeah, I'd love that. I can stay out of your way if you'd want, but I kinda want to feel you up and kiss you while you do. If you're cool with that."

I was very cool with that.

I fetched a clean towel from the bed, got my toys and lube in order, and got to undressing. Kev settled on the bed and watched, stripping down to his underwear as well. I don't know if it was the beers or my own damn frustration with my nonsensical hangup about toying in front of him, but it was exciting to switch it up.

It took a minute to figure out how we wanted to situate ourselves, but it resulted with me sitting with my back against him, and Kev running his hands up my torso and stroking my face. I was able to comfortably jump ahead a little, grabbing the medium-sized dildo and sliding it in without too much difficulty.

It's a very different experience with your lover's breath against your neck.

"Oooh, I kind of felt you react to that. That's really hot." Kevin noted. I may have blushed a little, powering through any remaining embarrassment to take it to the base.

"It feels really good! This used to be my go-to before I got all the new stuff. It's still a little weird that I can start with it now without needing to prep too much."

"Does it have a name?"

"What? No. I didn't name Clyde, it came with that name."

"Ohhh." I wasn't sure if he was relieved that I hadn't named my toy myself, or that I wasn't the one who came up with something so corny.

A few minutes loosened up by the current toy, I was ready to move on to the biggest non-Clyde dildo I had. This one was blue, with a big floppy pair of balls at the base which looked a bit silly, but felt so satisfying when you bottomed out.

"Ok, I should be good to swap."

I adjusted my position, getting a little more horizontal and lying back into Kevin's lap while I kicked my legs up to get the angle of least resistance. Just like the first, it wasn't too hard to get it the head in once everything was lubed and aligned.

"Mmm... that's my boy." One of Kevin's hands reached lower. He didn't stroke my half-erect cock, instead gently grasping around my balls and the base at once, groping me while his eyes darted between the dildo disappearing under my tail, my quickly growing package, and the happy look on my face. I could tell he too was enjoying it, I could feel him getting harder against the back of my head. When I finally felt the silicone nuts pressing against my tailbone, I heard him exhale loudly out of his nostrils, as though he himself had just felt that bottoming out as well.

For a few moments we shared eye contact. I idly thrusted the last quarter of the dildo in and out of me, and he caressed my face and continued to feel me up below the belt without outright stroking. I couldn't see from here, but he had to be fully hard, it was clear from the look in his eyes that he found this very, very fun to watch.

Maybe later I'd have to share some of the vids I'd taken in the last month.

I was beginning to leak precum over my stomach, I knew if I kept going at the right angle and asked him to jerk me off, I could probably finish from this. Or, I could keep going with the idea of using Clyde. Decisions, decisions.

He made the choice a little easier.

"Mind if I help out."

At first I figured he just meant get me off, but as he sat up and removed his underwear, I realized he meant something else entirely. "Oh! Uh, yeah. I'm loosened up enough that I should be fine if you wanna like, use the dildo on me."

Kev smiled, giving a friendly nod as he positioned himself. He was, indeed, at full attention, and it was kinda nice just to admire him in all of his glory for a moment.

"Here, let me figure out how we're doing this." I made a plan, rising back to my knees. "It's a pain to try to penetrate yourself in doggy alone, so maybe it would be fun to let you take the reins."

"Hell yeah."

And with a hell yeah, it was decided. I knelt down, showing off with a wag of my tail and a shake of my ass, before hiking both up for the easiest entry as he re-lubed the toy and knelt behind me. "Ok, three, two, one."

"Aaaahh..."

All pleasure. It slid in easily, and it seemed even Kevin was a little surprised how much sank down with a gentle thrust. "Ho-ly shit Cal. You really did get good at this. Feels good?"

"Heavenly. You can do a little thrusting once most of it is in, I got nice and warmed up."

"Got it."

It was certainly a different feeling having someone else use the toy on me. It almost felt like the real deal, not knowing when Kevin would thrust the thing in or out. Deep, satisfied breaths became soft moans. I could hear Kevin breathing heavily like he himself was on the giving end of this.

"You're real sexy, Cal. Even if it's a dildo, I can feel you gripping onto this thing when I try to pull it out of ya. You're one cute fox. Fuck, I've never seen you pre this much either. It's hot."

Sure enough, I was suddenly acutely aware that I was making a bit of a mess on the towel below. I guess Kevin didn't know just how much I pre'd during anal play.

"You never fail to surprise me, dear."

From this angle, the best he could do was kiss the crook of my neck and shoulder while one hand toyed me, and the other finally reached between my legs to start stroking. Oh boy. The moans came out loud and proud. Messy, high pitched, and needy.

"You are so fucking cute."

"Thank you..." I don't know if that was the sexy response, but neither of us seemed to mind with this much pleasure coursing through my body. A couple minutes and I was bound to unload. I could feel my knees getting weaker, needing to shift more weight to my forearms to stay steady. It was bliss, it was surprisingly intimate, and with a few more minutes I'd be deeper in the throes of passion than Kev had ever seen.

When I said it.

"Fuck it, let's try it."

His eyebrows jumped. "You sure."

"Positive. 100%."

"You are absolutely sure."

"Yeah. If it fails, whatever. We can go back to this. I think I'm loose enough. I know for certain it won't be as bad as last time, so if it doesn't work out, it's fine."

Kev was silent for a moment, but it was clear that he really, really liked this idea.

"Alright. Lead the way."

I wasted no time. Once he drew the blue dildo out, I got a pillow and worked it under the towel. "Stand at the edge of the bed. Lube like crazy. Go slow, obviously."

Kevin nodded as he got up. "I don't do anything unless you say so," he assured.

I tried not to think of last time. I was looser, Kevin wasn't surprised by the ask this time, I wasn't testing my limits so much. After all, this is about where I'd usually reach for Clyde if I wanted to give him a try. They're about the same size.

I swallowed hard while he lined up. I feared he was just that little bit bigger that would make the next few minutes difficult. He'd done well to lube up, the head sliding away the first couple times Kevin tried to get everything aligned.

"Ok, calm breaths. You got this love."

"Yeah. Go when you're ready, but I'm good when you are."

Kevin looked as focused as I'd ever seen him starting down where his cock tip met my ass. I took a deep breath, he found purchase, and sure enough I felt my body spreading open.

"Ahhh..."

"Too tight!?!"

"No, it's good! You're good."

A little more. Yes, he was bigger than Clyde. But I was right. I was ready. He was certainly spreading me wider than I'd been before, and that felt like a lot, but it wasn't painful.

"Holy shit." My eyes left his determined expression for the first time to see that, yes, he'd done it. The head of his cock had worked its way in, comfortably anchoring us together.

"I'm inside you."

"You're inside me!"

"I'm inside you!"

"Yeah, you're inside me!!!"

I couldn't help but laugh. Hardly the moaning, slutty fox reaction to taking a horsecock that I had envisioned, but happy nonetheless.

"You feel amazing. Wow. I've never been inside a guy before. You're really fucking warm, it feels wonderful... Am I good to...?"

"Yeah, keep going. I'll tell you when to stop."

No longer needing to line up and monitor the situation below, Kev's brown eyes came to rest over mine. He was gorgeous, his mane tousled a little from our earlier play. I could feel him working deeper, little by little, but I refused to leave eye contact.

I loved to play the coy little fox, shooting bedroom eyes from my knees and being the good little submissive, but at this moment, I was just happy the two of us actually managed it. And that was more than enough.

A minute or two went by, time was difficult to gauge. The first speed bump. You see, stallions have this thing called a medial ring, and Kev's was a doozy. He probably had maybe six or seven inches inside me, and that felt incredible, but it would take a lot more effort to get that extra girth under my tail.

"Do you want me to?..." He reached for the lube.

"No. This is fine, we'll work with this. I don't want to push it, and this is... comfortable enough."

"Roger. Well, I think I'm gonna try to start getting some motion going. You ready?"

I nodded.

It was a tight fit. Real tight. Even well lubed, it was hard for Kevin to get a rhythm going. When he did get a bit of real speed, I flinched and had to call for a moment's break.

But it was delightful. He was hard, and as fun as Clyde was, it didn't twitch inside you. Clyde didn't come with that wonderful, leathery feel that strained the edges of my body. What little hip rocking I could comfortably endure was a rush, and that fullness. He was warm, he was alive, he was my goofy boyfriend and he had me curling my toes with raw sensation.

Plus, Clyde didn't tell you how fucking wonderful you felt, and what a good fox you are.

We probably could have managed a little more velocity with a fresh lube application and more time, but I was close and I think he was too. I motioned him to lean over me, and Kev immediately got the memo. That kiss may have been the closest I've ever felt to Kevin. He kissed me deeply. Lovingly. Needily. Even with more pressure than I'd ever felt inside me, I was acutely aware of how large his tongue was, how soft his lips are, and how delicate the hand holding my chin up felt at that moment.

It was bliss.

"I think I'm nearly there, how ya want me to finish, Cal?"

"Just like this. Inside. Nice and slow."

"Yessir."

I held his neck, and he found a comfortable position hunched over me with arms outstretched. He didn't speed up, instead using the medial ring as a makeship flared base. A few inches sinking in, a few inches drawing back. Even without the limits of "big penis, small fox", there was no mistaking the pleasure spelled across my lover's face. Kev's brow furrowed and never released. He whinnied! Hearing that, I readied for him to finish right then, but he was still building. We tried kissing again, but it was clear he was close enough that he just wanted to ride out whatever may come.

And whatever may come, came.

It was very gradual. Kev paused at times, the tight sensation clearly taking as much of a toll on him as it was on me. He grit his teeth after a second whinny, but yet again he winced a little harder and nothing immediately resulted. His tensed face sat just a couple feet above me, seemingly wanting to keep eye contact but closing his eyes for brief stretches. When he opened his eyes again, I used the line I'd been holding onto for ages to try getting him over the edge.

"That's my boy. Hold me down and let it out, darling."

Hey, turnabout is fair play.

"Ooh, ooooh!"

I'll never forget the sound that came out of his mouth- a genuine voice crack! - But I didn't have long to dwell on it. He made another new noise, almost a growl as his arms visibly shook and the first pang of warmth rocketed inside me.

"Holy fuck."

That one was me. Sure I've had guys finish inside, but this was something else. I could feel him throbbing with each pulse of wet heat. Oh to have a mental snapshot of the next twenty seconds saved forever... No cute banter, no acting like we've been here before, Kevin's lip quivered and his face narrowed with sweet, sweet release. A long moan, another few shots that sent a bonafide shiver up my spine. He drew free, mostly finished but with a few more shudders that sent a drip down the underside of that visibly-slick shaft.

We just sort of looked at each other for a moment. He still had a wild look in his eyes despite the relief betrayed by his hunched posture, steadying himself by gripping the edge of the bed. He was even breathing heavy, was that sweat on his brow? It was hot.

"Wow."

"Yeah."

"Sorry, I just need a sec..."

"Yeah yeah, I'm good, don't worry." It was true. Sure, I was right at the verge myself and surely had more semen in me than at any other point in my life, but I wasn't going to lose my gusto anytime soon.

He took his breather, possibly staying erect this whole time, then joined me on the bed.

"Here, sit up. I'm gonna get in behind you."

In a less horny state I may have responded that he already had, but I was happily along for the last leg of this wild ride. He urged me to join him in his lap, and that little shift to get up and let him under me made me very, very aware that a stallion had finished inside of me, and how wet we'd gotten the towel. Thankfully, I had enough endorphins buzzing around to find this pretty fucking hot.

Despite initial appearances, he was too soft for a round two. It didn't phase him. Grabbing Clyde, he quickly gave it a liberal lubrication, and with my already loosened rear, slid in without issue.

"Ooooh..." The feeling of silicone was no Kev, but it satisfied that itch to feel full again before the dam broke on whatever monumental climax was building.

"A little higher, there ya go, let me know when to stop..."

I almost didn't need to. Loosened up by an even larger horse, he was able to slide past the smaller medial ring on Clyde and get the thing about three quarters deep before I gave him the ok. It wasn't pulsing with life or directly attached to a cute boy, but it was as deep as anything had been inside me, including Kev. We found a workable alignment where I could lie back in his lap.

"I've got you Cal. Just tell me if you want to change anything up and I'll do the rest."

"Yessir."

My turn, and god what a feeling it was! One big, lubed-up mitt stroking me slowly, the other pulling my torso back against his. We managed to twist enough for a quick kiss, but found it more comfortable to enjoy how I fit in the nook of his body like so.

And the sweet nothings...

I'm not going to recount everything, but I don't think a moment of those last few minutes went by without some kind words out of Kevin's mouth. Some were sweet. Some would make a pornstar blush. Some probably would sound absurdly corny when you're not on the verge of the most intense, intimate orgasm of your life. I think he said something about how proud he felt as my boyfriend to fill me as thoroughly as I deserved, and the primal rush he got gazing over the aftermath of my beautiful, cum-drenched hole.

You know, the things you can only get away with after that good shit.

I'm not someone who can get off from just anal play, so this finish was thoroughly A-OK in my book. It was almost as much of a sensory overload as when Kevin was inside me. The rise and fall of his chest, the kissing at my neck, the wandering hand playing with my nipples and stroking me with the deliberate intent of someone who's already came and wants their lover to feel that same ecstasy.

It didn't take long to get back to the brink, but like Kev's climax it was a drawn out process. My legs started quivering, thankfully this position leaning back against Kevin meant I didn't have to shift my weight or get the dildo out of me to stay steady. He didn't skip a beat, still stroking, still telling me what a good little fox I am, still warm breath over the back of my neck and an intense pressure deep under my tail.

"I-I'm close." God I sounded flustered.

"You've earned it darling. Come for me. Let it all out, I wanna hear how good you feel."

And I did. Lord I did. I whined, the leg shudders turned into full-blown, uncontrollable shakes, and I melted back into Kevin and the pleasure he drew out of me. I sang like a bird. It must have sounded like the most corny faked porn orgasm to anyone who hadn't seen the last twenty minutes.

And the cumshot...

I'm not exactly productive, not usually. You'd be forgiven for thinking otherwise seeing me launch a shot high enough to smack the bottom of my muzzle. If Kevin hadn't pointed my cock back ever-so-slightly so I could paint my chest, I'd be hunting the carpet for wet spots. I felt warm throughout, like my whole body was joining in for these few seconds of raw, nerve-spasming delight. The last trickles of cum came lazy and drawn out, leaving a splattered chest and a very, very drained fox.

"Ho-boy..."

Kevin laughed. I don't even blame him, I had to chuckle too, still fried from whatever mess of chemicals resulted in my brain picking 'ho-boy' as my post-nut reaction.

"Yeah, that's a 'ho-boy' if I ever saw one. That... that was actually insane. Good god we made a mess."

Fuck, he's right. And it's my apartment. There was a good chance the towel was wet enough to get some on the covers, not that I cared about having to do laundry after all of... that.

But that was a problem for future Calvin. I could live with a wet spot for a day if it meant curling up beside Kevin tonight. It finally dawned on me how exhausted I was in the aftermath. I'd have been tempted to just skip the shower if I wasn't painted like a Pollock from the neck down.

My apartment's showers are mercifully larger than Cal's, about the only edge my place has over his. I want to formally apologize for all the water we wasted that night. Somewhere between rubbing each other down with lavender body wash, he got turned on enough for a round two. I was too tired to do much more than help stroke him off, but that was more than enough. Neither of us were in any rush, and we must have spent an hour in that shower together kissing, jerking, and washing, before emerging clean in only the physical sense of the word.

We hit the bed like stones and didn't wake up for at least ten hours.

---

It's been a few months. "Maybe moving in" became the extremely stressful logistics of both of us leaving our respective apartments for a shared two-bedroom. The shower is big enough for a horse plus one.

Graduation is coming up. I'm looking at jobs, and realizing just how good I've had it these last few years with my family paying for my rent up to this point. Kevin has assured me he'll cover things until I get my feet under me post-college, but I would rather get a job waiting tables or something in the meantime to pay my half if it comes to it.

Oh, yeah, our sex life. It's great. Now, he's not exactly bending me over at every opportunity. We've only tried the backdoor a few times since that big first night, to varying degrees of success. It's a lot of hassle to get loosened up, and one time things just weren't working out.

We've accepted it's a "when the mood is right" sort of deal, and that works.

The real difference is in the atmosphere when things do get intimate. There's more trust. We can be a little more sappy with our sweet talk. We can get a little more raunchy with our dirty talk. Even without all that there's just... a feeling. When you stop having sex with a guy you like, and start having sex with a guy you love.

Kevin beat me to it. I'm terrified to go first. Yeah, he's called me 'love' offhandedly in a pet name sort of way. I don't know if he realized it was the first time. He left his work laptop at my place and when I saw him off, he said "I love you" like he didn't even have to think about it. We've been saying it ever since.

Oh, and he's been borrowing my toys. I'm getting him a kit of his own for Christmas. It's honestly a little funny seeing him react so strongly to the smallest plug. Maybe I wasn't giving myself enough credit before the whole horsecock quest. We've been working them into our play a little more, it's fun!

He's promised me he'll be ready for a real dick soon. I told him there's no rush.

And that's where things stand. Would I have done things differently? Maybe. With hindsight, I don't think doing the whole "secret training" helped either of us, even if that is my typical MO. It's scary to trust someone, even after a year of smooth sailing. You work with each other. You work within your limits. You learn that the sense of vulnerability is worth the payoff when it's the person you love. I'm not saying we're the perfect couple or anything, we bicker and living together is sure to bring a lot of problems to the surface, but that doesn't terrify me like it used to. I think that's enough to make it worth a shot.

I wanted to open my ass, and instead learned how to open my heart.

Don't tell him I said that, I'll never hear the end of it.