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"Fuck it's hot."

Rory was miserable and pretty sure Mark felt the same. The two teenage stallions sat, shirtless, on a pair of those old cloth reclining chairs; the type inevitably covered in stains from who the hell knows what kinds of seedy events they had witnessed in their questionable past. A span of carpet - where a table probably belonged - stood empty between them. Maybe one of their incoming roommates would bring one. But hey, at least they had a nice TV. The chairs angled toward the bright screen that flickered along with fast-paced action scenes of a movie Mark had put on. Rory wasn't really paying attention - couldn't pay attention - with how damn hot it was in the place.

"Hey, I already called maintenance," Rory said. "Bastards can't get out until Monday."

"Figures," Mark said.

Rory watched the Friesian pull another can of beer from the cooler and pop it open, sweat dripping down his arm. The AC had lasted all of five days before kicking out on a Friday evening, right before the hottest few days of summer. Just his luck, really; move into an apartment have shit immediately break. The temperature hadn't been so bad until the afternoon, but with the sun now beating down on the small room and not even a slight breeze for open windows, they had no way to deal with the heat. The two had already stripped to down to their loose boxers, legs splayed out to maximize cooling from the one small fan that stood between them, off to the side.

"At least they left us a fan," Rory said.

"Yeah, from the fuckin' stone age."

The smaller horse eyed the rattling fan with disdain. It stood on a shaky stand, dusty metal blades barely spinning, an entirely ineffective wire cage around it, struggling to rotate in jerky motions - you know the one. The kind you'd find in your grandparents' storage shed and wonder whether it'd be better at moving air or starting fires once plugged in. Rickety piece of shit.

"Yeah, it's pretty worthless."

"I'd say. Think they'll fix it before the other two move in?" Mark asked.

"Hope so. I don't think they paid for the 'sweaty horse locker room' upgrade."

The big Friesian laughed.

Bright flashes and fast-paced music flooded the room, Rory's attention grabbed back to the movie, where the main character was in yet another car chase. His nostrils flared slightly. The soundtrack wasn't the only thing flooding the room; it really did reek of stallion in here. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mark reach for another beer.

"Hey, toss that one h--bro, what the hell!?"

Mark had leaned back and closed his eyes with a satisfied sigh, his hand - and the beer - down his boxers. He cracked an eye open and looked back at Rory.

"What? I'm hot, and this is cold. It feels good."

"That's the last beer, you dick," Rory said, exasperated.

The Friesian snorted, taking the can back out of his boxers.

"Fine, take it then."

Rory's eyes went wide as his roommate tossed the can at him. He caught it gingerly and held it by two fingers, wiping his hand on his boxers where it had touched the can.

"What the fuck, bro! I don't want to touch your ball sweat beer can," he said.

"Ok, then give it back," Mark said, laughing.

"You already have one!"

"Oh come on, just wipe it off. It's not gonna burn you or anything."

Rory picked up his damp shirt and aggressively rubbed the can down, glaring at the Friesian, who was laughing to himself.

"Fuckin' prick," the smaller horse said under his breath.

He forcefully cracked the can of beer open, turning back to the TV. The camera slowly panned across a tense scene, the main character infiltrating his way into a foreign embassy. Watching intently, Rory took a sip from the full can, tilting it back - and then he made the mistake of breathing in. He'd been in plenty of locker rooms with other horses, the smell of stale sweat on bodies and wet gear not affecting the smaller stallion; but this was something else, something a simple rub with a shirt could not remove.

His nostrils flared instinctively, pure stallion musk mixed with the familiar scent of wet masculine horse racing up his nose, receptors he'd never used before sending very confusing messages to his brain in a fraction of a second. Rory choked on his first gulp, managing to force it down but doubling over, coughing as some of the cheap beer went down the wrong hole.

"Woah, you alright?" Mark asked.

"Y-Yeah-- Just--give me - a minute," he choked out between coughs.

Rory stared down at the can in his hands as his body tried to clear his throat, the nerves in his nose still tingling, sending the strangest shiver down his spine to his loins. The fuck was in this beer? But he already knew the answer. Not in the beer: on the beer. The teenager shook his head and forced his gaze back to the movie, the coughing subsiding but still tickling his throat here and there. He couldn't help but glance sideways at the Friesian, whose attention seemed riveted to the shootout occurring on the screen. No way was that all just his scent. What the hell was he packing in there? Rory's eyes drifted down to the Friesian's loose boxers, eyes tracing carefully over the hefty bulge in the fabric for the first time. Eyes widening, he realized his roommate's leg was angled just the right way to give the shorter stallion a view clear up his thigh, the dark skin of one large orb directly in his line of sight. Rory looked quickly back to the TV, his face hot, hoping the other stallion wouldn't notice.

He may have been looking at the TV, but his mind was anywhere else. What was happening to him? It had to be the alcohol right? He'd never thought things like this before, never paid the slightest attention to his roommate's - and high school friend's - body in this way. And they'd seen each other naked all the time in the showers after practice. What the hell was different now? His eyes drifted down to the beer. His nose tingled. He wanted more.

"Hey man, you alright?" Mark asked, looking over at him. "Maybe you've had one too many there."

"Uh--no, I'm good," he said, putting a fake grin on for the Friesian. "Just the heat getting to me, you know?"

He wiped the sweat off his face - though it wasn't the heat causing it this time.

"Yeah, sure Rory."

The Friesian gave him an odd look then turned back to the movie. They'd somehow commandeered a helicopter. He glanced down again, mind torn between tossing the damn can away and... maybe it wouldn't hurt to just... only for a minute.... Slowly, he brought the beer up to his lips again. But this time he took just a small sip and held the can there, taking a long, deep breath through flared nares. It was like inhaling fire. Pin pricks flashed up the length of his nostrils, his sheath stirred, and his heart rate nearly doubled. Fuck the alcohol; this was some next level shit.

"Easy there, killer," Mark said, grinning over at him. "You're going to choke on that beer again."

Rory blushed and swallowed, rubbing the back of his neck and weakly grinning at the Friesian.

"Oh, yeah, good call."

He tried fixing his muzzle on the screen, and perhaps he succeeded. But his eyes did not. Heart beating faster than the soundtrack now, he kept glancing over at the dark-furred Friesian. The stallion was notably larger than him, though not in a body-builder kind of way; he just had that draft build to him, you know? Big bones and all. Not to say he wasn't toned; he'd clearly been working on his abs. But his natural build meant his arms, legs, and torso far outclassed his own sleek frame. He wondered if the Friesian's sheath matched the rest of him.... He definitely knew his friend was well-endowed, but he'd never stopped and thought about the details, eyes always just slipping off of him to be polite. From how his damp boxers clung to his--

"Hey bro, are you watching the movie or staring at my crotch?"

Rory started, nearly spilling his beer, sure his face was turning a shade of crimson under his light-colored fur.

"What? Ah--yeah, man of course I'm watching the movie," he said. "It's a good one."

Mark looked at him sideways. "Yeah? So, what's the name of the main character then?"

Rory blanked, his mouth opening to speak, but nothing coming out.

"They say it like every two scenes. It's literally the name of the movie."

"Uh--yeah, I know," he said, blushing deeper. "I just uh, noticed you've lost some weight lately. You look good. You know, abs and all."

Mark grinned back at him, looking down at himself.

"Ah yeah, I've been trying to work out more," he said. "Gym's better this time of year than trying to do anything outside, anyway. Too fucking hot."

The big Friesian glanced at him again.

"You're sure you're not checking me out, Rory?" he said. "I really don't mind."

"Yeah, for sure. I'm not the gay one, remember?"

The brief awkward silence may have lasted a few seconds, but to Rory it might as well have been an eternity.

"You sure about that, bud?" the Friesian asked. "Because you're pitching a bit of a tent there."

The smaller stallion glanced wide-eyed down at his partial erection, mortified, and crossed one his legs to hide it.

"I uh--yeah, it's just--you know--the chick in this movie is pretty hot, right? Can't help it sometimes."

"Uh... huh. Right..."

He couldn't meet the Friesian's eyes, sure that the shade of his face could rival some shades of fruit right now. He felt the larger horse's gaze on him for a few moments before the stallion spoke.

"Well then," Mark said, standing up, "I'm sure you won't mind if I get comfortable. It's too damn hot, after all."

Like watching a somehow extremely sexy trainwreck, Rory's eyes were drawn to the stud like a magnet, his mind watching in slow motion as the Friesian pulled his boxers down over his hips and let them drop, his heavy sheath and low-hanging balls jostled in enticing ways as he stepped out of his last piece of clothing, then sat back down on the edge of the chair. Rory swallowed in nervous arousal, eyes drawn to the stallion's sack shining with a soft gleam of sweat, hanging off the front of the cushion. The damn bastard did it on purpose. He felt the Friesian's stare like a ton of bricks.

"Really?" he said. "I mean, I guess if it makes you feel better and all... I obviously don't mind..."

The smaller stallion peeled his gaze away from the Friesian's nude form and back to the movie, swallowing nervously, every fiber of his will trying to ignore the other stallion. For a while he succeeded, keeping his vision pinned on the action scenes. But while the tiny fan between them provided little to no cooling, it did slowly move the air about the room; and when it pointed at the Friesian, it forced air across the stud's now exposed, musky sheath, under his heavy orbs, and circulated that air around the room, the current taking only a few minutes to wind its way around Rory's muzzle, only to be whisked up into his nose on the next breath.

The moment Rory felt his nostrils involuntarily flare, he knew the fight was over. Before long, the entire small room was filled with the scent of Friesian. Regardless of what his mind wanted, Rory's muzzle now followed his nose, and it turned right toward the big stallion. The smaller horse's eyes flicked over Mark's sheath. Where his own was nice and tight - as is typical of the more sleek, compact breeds - the Friesian's had a draft-horse weight to it. Folds of skin rested on one another, shifting imperceptibly with his breathing, shining with a thin layer of sweat. Where Rory's balls were at most a small length from his body, the Friesian's hung low, the thin skin holding them revealing all sort of details. Every so often they'd pull up slightly, milking his potent seed upward, ready to be used for breeding.

Why was it suddenly so quiet?

The TV screen was dark. Rory glanced over and saw the remote in Mark's hand before locking eyes with the Friesian. The dark-furred stallion grinned back at him.

"Come here, pony."

Rory's heart raced.

"I-I'm not a p--"

"Shhh..."

The big stallion brought a finger up to his lips, still looking deep into Rory's eyes, then glanced down. The pony's eyes followed, down to where the Friesian had dipped a finger into his damp sheath, pulling it open slightly. Rory's mouth watered. It couldn't hurt, right? This was what college was for, experimenting. It didn't mean he was gay, surely - he just wanted to put his nose against that musky sheath and taste it...

The smaller horse didn't even remember getting to his feet, let alone kneeling before the Friesian. Now just a nose-length away, he saw all the stud's glorious details. A fine layer of sweat coated the folds of the Friesian's sheath. His heavy, massive sheath. The soft, thick skin hung off the Friesian's draft-like body, pulled down by the weight of the stallion's hefty balls and what Rory knew was likely a thick, heavy draft cock, still hidden from view. And the scent. The smallest hint of it had captivated him, but what hit him now was directly from the source, and his mind couldn't even begin to process it. The overpowering musk of virile stallion flooded his nose as he breathed, heavy and masculine - the spicy scent of horse, the musky tang of pre accumulating in his sheath, a thick oily scent of pure sex.

The smaller stallion felt his cock drop, hanging down one leg of his boxers as he leaned forward and pressed his nose against the Friesian's soft, musky sheath. Lost in his own world of arousal, Rory parted his lips and licked slowly up, from the base to the top of his folds. He huffed, the salty, earthen flavor sending a shiver down his spine. He pressed his lips to the opening of the Friesian's sheath and licked deep, pushing deep into the oily folds. An acrid tang of sexual fluids - dried and fresh - coated his tongue, lips savoring the soft, warm feel of the Friesian's sheath as he explored, tongue probing around the firmer flesh of the stallion's thick cock, still hidden deep inside. Rory couldn't hold back a soft moan. Why was this so hot?

He slowly pulled back, a strand of saliva bridging his lips to the Friesian's sheath before dripping down to his heavy orbs. Those big, equine testicles. The smaller stallion brought a shaky hand up to the Friesian's low-hanging balls, gently cupping one and lifting it, rolling the firm orb between his fingers. They were at least twice as big as his; he hadn't noticed before just how thick they were. Thin skin clearly showed the thick cords and the soft bulge of his prominent epididymis. Rory rolled his fingers over the Friesian's heavy orb, feeling just how big of a stud he was. He wondered how much the Friesian could cum with balls like these. He huffed, excited at the thought, before bringing the ball to his lips and taking it into his mouth. Nose pressed against the Friesian's musky scrotum, he sucked gently, moaning again. It tasted heavenly, like horse sweat and stud. He rolled the heavy orb around his mouth before letting it slip between his lips and fall back against the chair. An approving huff came from above him, his mind acknowledging Mark for the first time since he had knelt before the big stallion.

Rory looked up, eyes full of lust, to see the Friesian smiling down at him, clearly enjoying himself. To say the smaller stallion was aroused would be an understatement; his usually loose boxers felt tight around his erect cock, already soaking the thin fabric with pre. He knew what he wanted, and he wasn't going to wait any longer for it. Rory stood, quickly dropping his boxers to his ankles and stepping out of them. The Friesian eyed his cock with a lustful smile, but the smaller stallion didn't give him much time to admire it. He put a knee up on the arm rest and pushed the Friesian's chest back, Mark's eyes widening as it reclined. Rory swung his leg over, facing away from the Friesian, and straddled the bigger stallion's hips, his damp shaft resting on the Friesian's sheath.

"Oh, I like the way you think, pony," Mark said from behind him. "Damn, if I'd known how much of a sheath slut you were, I'd have let you fuck it a long time ago."

"Shut it."

The stallion laughed, jostling Rory, and making the stud's heavy package move in tantalizing ways. Rory lustfully eyed Mark's sheath, shifting his hips back to put the tip of his ridged cock right above the opening, inadvertently giving the stallion behind him a nice view of his rear and balls from behind.

"Nice ass, pony."

Rory yelped as the bigger stallion slapped his haunches and lifted his tail to the side; the smaller horse glanced back and gave the stud another glare, doing his best to hide his deep blush. He tried to ignore the flush of arousal every time the Friesian called him pony. Damnit. He loved it.

Rory pressed his hips forward and pulled the Friesian's damp sheath over the ridges of his flared equine cock. Fuck he was so warm. Between the mix of equine sweat and their pre, his shaft slid smoothly against Mark's soft skin, thoroughly lubed. He could smell their combined musk from here, the slick precum only enhancing the aroma of sex and stallion. Rory put a hand over the Friesian's sheath to hold it in place and thrust forward, his blush deepening as he felt his cock touch Mark's, then slide past it to the side. Even while flaccid, the big Frieisan's shaft was as thick as his erect cock; he let out a soft moan as the stallion's hot, wet folds rubbed him in all the right ways. How deep did this thing go?

He leaned forward more, really hiking his rear, pressing further in until his cockhead bottomed out, deep in the Friesian's folds. The soft, oily skin nearly covered his entire length, his own folds just pressing up against the Friesian's. Through the big stallion's sheath, he gripped both of their shafts together and started slowly thrusting, frotting the Friesian in his own soft folds. Mark huffed behind him in pleasure. Rory agreed; this was fucking hot, and it felt so good, his shaft smoothly sliding against the big horse's, the copious amount of pre produced between them making wet sounds as he fucked the big stallion's sheath. He inhaled sharply when he felt a hand on his rear and a finger press against his tight tailhole.

"Hey, what are you--a-ah fuck!"

He clenched down around the Friesian's digit, teeth gritted as he felt the stallion press deep into his rear - not something he was used to. But then the big horse pressed his finger down and massaged it in slow circles.

"Oh, f-fuck yes--"

Rory's leg twitched, his eyes closing in ecstasy as the Friesian expertly worked his prostate. With every teasing stroke from the stallion's finger, Rory felt his cock throb, flare expanding deep inside the Friesian's warm sheath. It multiplied the pleasure from every thrust, every rub of his shaft against the stallion's ridged cockhead. He panted, pressing his rear back against the big horse's hand, wanting him deeper, wanting more. A louder moan escaped his lips when the Friesian added a second and a third finger, starting to gently thrust them in and out of his tight donut, not only massaging his prostate but all the muscles along his pelvic floor, around his urethra. In only a matter of seconds, he felt his orgasm rising fast.

"Mark--I think--" the smaller stallion groaned, feeling pressure build in his prostate.

The Friesian felt it too, pressing harder and thrusting a little deeper.

"Mmf. Cum in my sheath, little pony," he said.

Rory had never heard hotter words. He thrust once more, watching his flare bulge the big stallion's sheath out, and he huffed, abdomen clenched, eyes closing as the hardest orgasm of his life hit him. He clenched around Mark's fingers, pulse after pulse of hot horse cum filling the Friesian's wet folds. He nickered softly as waves of pleasure flooded through his body, each contraction of his prostate - expertly teased by the stud's deft fingers - causing his leg to twitch involuntarily. Weakly thrusting in time with the throbs of his shaft, he felt warm cum slowly drip out around his hand, coating the Friesian's hips in the musky scent of stallion seed. Panting, he rode out the orgasm, waiting for the stallion behind him to pull his fingers from his rear. But the stud did not.

"My turn," he said, the lust clear in his voice.

Glancing down, Rory saw the stallion's shaft half dropped, visible out of his sheath now. And holy shit was it thick. The smaller stallion's eyes widened when Mark sat up and grabbed his hips and chest, lifting him easily off his lap and onto the carpet in front of the chair. Rory's now retracting cock slid out of the Friesian's sheath with a slick sound, dripping cum everywhere. He quickly felt the big horse kneel behind him, the stud's hands appearing on either side of him, sweat-soaked fur resting against his back. A Friesian muzzle appeared, nuzzling his neck and whispering in his ear.

"I've wanted to breed you for a long time, Rory pony," he said, giving the smaller stallion a gentle nip on his neck.

Rory shivered, so very turned on, a mix of excitement and trepidation after seeing how well-endowed the Friesian really was. But it was too late to turn back now. The big stud was in complete control. Full weight resting on Rory's back, he felt the Friesian reach down behind his tail, then he felt the stud's firm cock, still soaked in his own cum, press up against his well-prepared tailhole. Despite some concern, Rory moaned softly and hiked his tail high, pressing back against the big stud. With how well-lubed they both were, the stallion's semi-erect cock slid into his ass easily, the small horse huffing and clenching down around the ridged cockhead as it popped in. Even half erect, the stud's shaft spread him wider than his fingers had earlier, and the small stallion felt a lovely fullness in his rear for the first time.

The Friesian pressed in deeper, Rory huffing as the ridged head passed over his prostate and kept going. He grunted in discomfort when he felt the stud press up against some kind of barrier, feeling the Friesian's medial ring just outside his tailhole, only half his length deep. Mark took long, slow licks along his neck, sending more shivers down his spine, then paused for a moment.

"Take a deep breath and relax, my pony," he said.

Rory did just that, trying his best to relax, feeling the big stud's heartbeat on his back and deep inside him, through his buried shaft. With slow pressure, his stallion pressed deeper, and Rory felt the stallion's cockhead slip through, his medial ring sliding into his tight donut. The Friesian then thrust forward faster, and Rory clenched his teeth, tailhole stretched tight as he finally felt the stallion's sheath press up under his tail, the stud's heavy balls resting against his smaller ones. The smaller horse reached down and felt a bulge in his abdomen, deep in his colon, the big stallion's flared head hilted in his rear. He'd never felt so full and stretched out in his life. His own cock flexed, tailhole trying to contract around the stallion's wide base.

"Fuck you feel so tight," Mark said.

The smaller horse huffed, then moaned, as he felt the Friesian start to thrust, swearing his intestines were being pulled along with the stud's huge shaft. At first, the stallion on top of him kept the thrusts short, still hilted, the stud's heavy balls gently swinging up against his with each methodical thrust. But slowly, the Friesian increased the length of his stroke, still thrusting gently, but pulling out to his thick medial ring before hilting back into the horse. Rory's shaft throbbed every time the stallion thrust or rubbed his prostate just the right way, already dripping long strands of pre onto the carpet despite just having ejaculated a few minutes prior. Huffing and feeling more comfortable now, he started pressing back against the stallion's thrusts, needing to feel him deeper, feel him thrust harder.

"Mmm, that's my good pony slut," Mark said. "Begging to be bred by his big stallion's cock."

Rory flushed with arousal, soaking in every one of the stallion's words. He needed this so badly. The smaller horse reached a hand up around the big stallion's head and pulled the stud's muzzle down next to his own, looking into the Friesian's eye.

"Fuck me hard, big stud," he said, tone dripping with lust. "Breed your pony like a slutty mare."

The switch was immediate. He saw the big stallion's eye glaze over and felt the stud take a big mouthful of skin between his shoulder and neck, biting down for grip like a feral stallion, saliva soaking Rory's fur.

"Aaah, fuck yes!"

Rory's cock flexed, shooting a rope of pre to the carpet below. The Friesian drew his shaft out until the flare was just inside his tailhole, then slammed the full length back in. The smaller horse grunted, Mark's first hard stroke throwing him off balance, but he quickly thrust his rear back, meeting the Friesian's next stroke and pressing his donut deep into the stud's sheath, the big stallion's balls slapping hard against his own. He hiked his tail high and moaned loudly as the Friesian railed his ass with long, hard breeding thrusts, every heavy stroke rubbing hard against his prostate, a thick, constant rope of precum now bridging Rory's cock and the floor below.

When his stallion bit down harder, Rory knew the stud was close, but when he felt the big stallion's hand wrap around his cock, he moaned again. Mark milked Rory's shaft hard and fast, twisting his hand around the pony's ridged flare as kept up the pace of his long breeding thrusts. Rory felt his second orgasm of the day quickly rise, and when the heavy Friesian above him thrust_hard_ and stayed hilted, he felt the pleasure push him over the edge. Both stallions flared simultaneously, Rory feeling the stud's massive cockhead press painfully tight out against his abdomen, followed quickly by wave after wave of heat deep inside, the stallion filling him full of hot Friesian cum. The smaller horse stayed still, his own shaft pulsing a few ropes of seed onto the carpet, his tailhole clenching tight around the stud's thick shaft.

Panting heavily, Rory felt the stud's teeth leave his shoulder and the stallion's weight rest heavily on his back. Both horses were soaked with sweat, some of it dripping down their legs and off their balls, mixed with a copious amount of horse cum. He rode the waves of pleasure until they subsided, leaving only a feeling of satisfied exhaustion; he was pretty sure Mark felt the same. The Friesian rested on his back, his cock slowly retracting into his heavy sheath, finally slipping out of Rory's ass with a wet shlick, dumping yet more of their combined fluids on the carpet below. After some time, he felt the big Friesian slide off of him, sitting back against the chair. And a moment later, he felt a strong arm wrap around him and pull him to the stud's side, hugging him close.

At first surprised, Rory looked up into the big stallion's eyes, only to find his friend looking back at him with a loving gaze.

"That was amazing, Rory," he said.

The smaller stallion blushed but looked back with the same feeling in his chest.

"Yeah, I guess it was pretty great."

The Friesian sighed, filled with a pleasurable afterglow, and grabbed the remote, turning the movie back on just in time for another car chase scene. With an unpracticed and uncertain motion, Rory smiled up at the stud and rested his head on the bigger stallion's shoulder. He practically melted when Mark wrapped his arm around him, holding him close. Despite the agonizing heat, it had turned out to be a good first week. And though the two were still a sweaty equine mess, they knew the sweat and musk was just building up to round two, and so the heat was forgotten. They sat like that, watching the ending credits scroll, just enjoying the moment. Until the Friesian spoke.

"So, not gay, huh?"

Rory elbowed him hard but couldn't suppress a smile.