One Of Those Evenings

Story by KayrinSF on SoFurry

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A horse attempts to keep his winning ways alive in a rather unorthodox wrestling tournament

A sequel for "One Of Those Days" which, despite the difference in upload dates on here was a story I finished around 6 - 7 months ago.

Enjoy, guys!


The leopard is gone.

I let him go an hour ago; I have to get ready for my second match. The smell of stale sweat and cum fills my nostrils as I draw in a heavy breath. The change room is empty, but the grunts and moans of fighters still enjoying the spoils of their earlier victories fill the air. Normally I'd be jealous but the leopard's phone number rests in the pocket of my jeans, tucked away safely for later and that keeps me focused. I steel myself for battle once more.

I've spent the better part of the last hour stroking my dick slowly, working myself up only to stop and let the lusty need abate before it consumes me. The rules are clear and I wasn't going to go out on a technicality. If I wasn't hard, I didn't fight, and if I didn't fight... well, that wasn't going to happen. I slip the cock ring they'd given me earlier in the day back over the flared tip of my shaft, sliding it down with a visible shiver I can feel from the base of my tail right up to the tips of my ears.

"Fighters Erin Hallmusen and Gino Russo please report to the main ring. I repeat--""The announcement buzzes in the shower-dampened air of the change room but I tune it out after I hear my name; it was show time. I slip on the blue lycra briefs I'd worn in my first bout, the scent of the leopard still clinging to the thin fabric as though trying to remind me of what we'd done for the last four hours; what we hadn't done would make for a much shorter list. The spartan cement tunnel that leads to the ring hums with the chant of the crowd, drunk on their own eagerness after an afternoon of sweat, cum and adrenaline.

As I step out I raise my arms, showmanship was everything when it came to the crowd. I knew they loved me, and they knew I loved them for it right back. I stand before them, nude save for those little briefs, grinning as they shower me in the quivering roar of their adoration. The crowd is bigger than it had been for the first round, the drinks were out now too and I knew things were only going to get louder.

"Standing 6'5" and weighing in at 180lbs--"

The announcer begins his introduction but I don't listen, I know how much I weigh, where I'm from and as I slip into the ring I take a moment to calm my nerves with a quick look around. The arena still looks the same as it had earlier that day, though a few more lights had been put up as the sun sunk below the high arching windows that lined the warehouse-like room. More bleachers had been erected as well, the crowds swelling as those who hadn't been able to make the earlier matches began to trickle in for the later rounds of the tournament. I grin as I stroke the underside of the impressive horsecock pressing against the inside of my briefs, dropping a wink at an attractive woman in the first row as I do as if she meant something to me; she blushes as I turn away from her. Showmanship was everything.

"ERIN HALLMUSEN!" The crowd erupts as the introduction ends and I can feel my heart race as I head to my corner, head held high. "His opponent, standing 6'1" and weighing in at 195lb!. King of the urban jungle and ruler of the ring--"

I snort. An egoist was always a great opponent this early in the tournament. There were three more rounds after this one, including the finals, and denying them to this guy was going to be a treat.

"GINO RUSSO!"

A lion comes barrelling out of the tunnel before the announcer's echoing voice has even faded from my ears. He leaps into the ring, sliding beneath the lowest rope and tumbling into a kneeling crouch. When he stands the crowd roars its approval but I can only scowl; I was going to enjoy this more than he was.

The bell sounds quickly and we waste little time in starting our show. I forego the usual opening rituals of these fights, the circling, the taunting and the eventual clinch. Instead, I rush the lion, his tented green lycra briefs drawing my gaze for only a second before our bodies collide. I try to simply shove the heavier, but shorter, boy against the ropes and he goes easily, surprised by the ferocity of my sudden attack. As he bounces back towards me my arm drops, hooking between his thighs as I grab his throat with my other hand; It's an easy toss as I use his momentum off of the ropes to my advantage. I lift him, painfully aware of the feeling of his cock grinding against my arm before I send him headfirst into the mat; the crowd explodes at the furious opening move.

The lion doesn't stay down as long as I hoped he would. He rolls back up onto his feet quickly and I don't have time to stop the foot that collides with my stomach; I grunt out my pain as the lion presses his sudden advantage, chopping at my chest and putting me back on the ropes helplessly.

"Stupid horse" he crows triumphantly as he slaps his arm against my chest, knocking the wind from me as my ribs protest the sharp pain his hit incites in them. Another chop. And another! My knees shake slightly before I gather myself enough to respond. He's separating my legs with his feet when I strike, the feline clearly intending to plant a strike on my dribbling cock. I throw myself back against the ropes even as my arms twist around them, giving me the support I need as I lift both legs to close them around his waist. The look on his face is worth the risk, but the wheezing gasp that rattles from his lips is the icing on the cake. I cinch my legs tightly, my shaft tenting up against his chest as my balls press against his belly; it feels great and I can't stop the nicker that slips from me.

He's struggling, wriggling almost pleasurably between my legs. Finally, he lifts his hands and I can't do anything about the hard strike to my belly which follows. I grunt but hold on, he's weakening as my powerful hold keeps him from drawing in a deep enough breath to fill his lungs. The crowd seems to sense the danger to the cocky lion and quiets, waiting to see if the bravado of the green-clad feline would be snuffed out so quickly. Another strike to my belly does little, but my arms are getting tired from supporting my own weight on the ropes and I finally have to break the hold or risk losing my advantage. My legs fall from his waist and hit the ring's surface with a hollow reverberation before I lift them again; I press my feet against the woozy cat's belly and shove him backwards. Stumbling, the cat falls on his ass, one hand reaching behind him to brace his weight even as he tries to catch his breath. The red tinge in his cheeks and lips begins to fade as he sucks in one deep lungful of air after another.

I drop my arms and simply bolt across the ring, each footstep resounding like thunder cracking beneath me before I leap at him. My arms and legs stretch, my chest colliding with his face as my weight topples him flat onto his back. I roll off quickly, leaving him heaving, gasping and writhing as I climb to my knees then my feet. Hes barely touched me but still I'm breathing heavily, the grin on my face faint but powerful, like some sadistic Mona Lisa who has come down from the wall to dish out some punishment.

I remember how I dealt with the leopard in the first round and as I slide over to take a seat on the struggling lion's chest, I can't help but feel a wave of déjà vu wash over me; this was almost too easy. As my knees press against his sides, my cock leaks a fresh rivulet of pre-cum down the underside of my shaft, the fabric at the front my tent darkening with the release.

"Sorry" is all I bother to say to him as I slip my hand beneath the waistband of those green briefs. His cock is easy to find in the small bottoms, hot and slick to the touch as I curl my fingers around the groaning feline's dick. When I touch the ring at its base, the lion seems to jolt back to life beneath me. My weight worked well against the leopard in the first round but this time I'm the lighter one and I fight to keep my perch on the struggling feline's chest.

His legs come up suddenly, a knee striking me below the base of one of my ears and stars explode before my eyes; I find myself lost in the beauty of those blooming novas even as I topple bonelessly from atop the other male. The faint roar of the crowd fills my ears as I crawl across the thinly padded arena floor but I can barely hear it above the throbbing ache in my head. I can feel the lion's heads when they close around my shoulders, shaking my head helplessly as that grip pulls me back onto my feet. The bittersweet scent of sweat fills my nose when he presses his body against mine, standing dick-to-dick with me as his hands find purchase around my waist... then...

I'm flying. The absurd thought glares in my addled brain like a neon-lit sign looming above the darkness of an inner-city alley. The air rushes through my ears as I travel far above the blue matting, then, I'm crashing. The lion's suplex puts me on my back but jolts me back to reality with a violent whiplash that steals the breath from my lungs. I can feel my cock throbbing as it stands proudly above my hips, a leg pulling up as if I were in any position to stand. The lion is gloating, his arms raised as he stands above me; he thought he'd won already with that lucky hit and I don't let him know I still had some fight left me in... yet.

He leans down after glutting himself on the adoration of the crowd, a paw pressing against one of my inner-thighs as the other tugs down the front of my briefs. I look through half-lidded eyes as my cock springs to life, bobbing as it savours its newfound freedom from the musky prison of those pre-cum stained briefs. I shudder when he licks the flaring tip but I don't let myself enjoy it too much.

My legs come up, just as his had, and curl around his neck. I twist my legs to the side, cock still jostling nakedly, smearing my pre-cum across his muzzle as his face is forced against the impressive length of my cock.

"Eat up, kid." I grunt tiredly, my head still pounding and my body aching from the fight that I hoped was nearing its end. Spit dribbles from between his lips as he tries to force my legs apart, but I can feel my leg muscles tense and lock in, there was no getting out for him now. I look away from him only when the ref begins to tap my shoulder, shouting something about tap-outs not being accepted. The lion's face is turning a strange shade of red when I finally release him.

Standing, I don't make the same mistake he did. I leap over his collapsed form, the feline trying to pull himself to his feet but I don't give him the chance. Running, I hit the far ropes, wincing as they dig into my nearly nude body, my briefs barely hanging onto my hips after the stretching they'd gotten from the lion's attempt to remove them. I come off the ropes even faster than I'd hit them and barrel towards the still-prone feline fighter and when I'm several feet away I launch myself into a vicious leg drop which fills the air with a meaty thud and crashing reverberation from the mat beneath us; his body comes off the mat from the trauma of the strike and I roll back immediately, readying myself once more.

He doesn't get up. He just lays there, groaning out in pain and confusion.

"FINISH HIM!" The single cry from a member of the audience reaches me above the otherwise chaotic din; I'd hate to disappoint my audience.

I drag him away from the ropes, his body covered in a light sheen of sweat that makes the fur of his wrists damp and difficult to grip. I struggle slightly with the heavier male but once he's safely away from the ropes I slap my elbow and collapse atop him, driving that same elbow into his gut. The lion's body hops again as I connect with the relatively soft expanse of his stomach and I don't climb off of him this time.

His briefs are easy to push down.

His cock is easy to grip.

The ring is easy to remove.

Every inch that it moves seems to draw another desperate breathless groan of protest from the boy I lay atop, but I don't listen. I can feel my body tense with anticipation as the ring finally pops off from the tip of his quivering dick. His whole body seems to arch at the same time, as if punctuating my victory with one last display of the vanquished feline's cock before it erupts.

His cum is warm as it sprays against my chest and throat, mingling with my own sweat to create an aroma that was positively bursting with pheromones. Several powerful pulses of that rich cream paint me; some dribbles down his shaft to pool against his thigh and balls.

"THE WINNER!...." The announcer begins his final task of the match but I'm too busy basking in my own victory to hear it be announced. I roll off of the cat, letting his final weakened burst of cum rain down on his own lower belly as I climb back to my feet shakily. "ERIN HALLMUSEN!" The crowd loves it; I love them for it.

As the defeated lion groans helplessly at my feet, I smile. His body is bruised; his fur is dirty with our mingled sweat and his own cum; I win; he loses. Above the audience's seating area the tournament bracket is updated as my name is moved into round three, my opponent still to be decided.

As I head from the ring to return to the locker room I glance back once at the still prone lion; he'll come when he's ready for his final role of the evening as my locker-room servant, but for now I leave him be. I was ready for another round of celebrating after that fight and though I'm still tired from my time with the leopard, I look forward to my time with this lion; so many boys to conquer, so little time.

Ever have one of those evenings? I think to myself cockily, what is a horse to do?