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First Stalked

By: Jeremiah Nighthopper

Reddening sky meant work was done. Clothes stuck to flesh constraining and tight. Stretching muscles glistened as reluctant light pulled from the furry chest. It was time. Working out a knot his arms come down with a sigh, continuing the out breath reaching down, his spine popped. Buttocks firmed and viewable if any were there to admire. Grasping ankles to hold the position and savor the release, night has come and no more mask.

Beams cast their drowning arms into the darkening atmosphere starting to twinkle with eager little eyes looking down at Straph Gruubbard. Hair danced on the breeze as it emerged from the salutations to the earth below, eager to dry itself from this wet weight and strain called work. Heaving pecks sucking in vast amounts of the day's true beginning, Straph took steps to go home. Admired by so many, their clacking against pavement made everyone think the boss was here. Straph never wore those kind of boots. His were all natural. Strong, clean, black, polished, hooves that cupped the earth with each step telling it not to rise against gravity. Support this horse's posture at all costs. This demigod of good looks, sleek black fur, in perfect shape, deserved it. Making him magnificent for all to see. An idol of the night.

Never driving home, he loved to walk. Good for physic and it's a great way to transform the work hard, good boy, masquerade, to party hungry Straph Gruubbard. Single, and searching for "the one". That not too much smaller mate who would love to walk in silence, mystery, listen to the universe, and each glance would spark another coal ignition into flame as their relationship would burst in every moment. Flaring his nostrils in his reverie. Dreaming always got him ramped up and picking up pace he turned from the alley hitting the walk ways. Strut in his step, heart pounding a drum beat his clapping hooves announcing he was there.

Lover by nature it had to be perfect. They would love him for himself and all they were separate or together. Like nature's destructive power joining people. They would be a storm and everyone would watch in envy, lust, and jealousy. Wanting what he long searched for. Guided by the dream, hope never faded that it would come to a day where "the one" would be found. Different, handsome, sexy, mysterious, and exciting in some strange way never before discovered. Three blocks later eagerly tapping his hond for the walk light to come on.

Those larger honds. Honds were his "paws" but were capable hooves. Four digits, one opposable for tool use as nature decreed. Honds always made Straph feel strange having a piece of his anatomy named after the mythical human "hands". Much like the apes who lived over in Afurrica, but had little to no hair. Running in forests, stealing people, locking them up, and doing unthinkable things. Straph had to change his thoughts. Harder time walking when thinking about those imprisonments and activities that could happen in Frog's dark caverns.

Froggishav Vun Lillus was a psychologist who discovered that people's desires suppressed as if imprisoned in a cave become terrible nightmares when their shadows on the wall live, as light enters. A metaphor of course for one's suppression of fantasies. How they can become out of control, even violent if not released and faced safely. Mind is a great hobby to explore. Learning about ones self is something everyone should do the horse thought. As he discovered himself each night after work. No one knew of course. He went to work, earned his point wages, and he went home. Five years may make someone wonder why a gelding wasn't at his side by now. A Noirrutt Breed was rare, and pure was even rarer. His family was actually well off, but it was not in his heart to be bound by the pressures of investment. Life called to him to explore darker, more exciting paths to fulfillment.

His Frog's Cave was holding another male. It did not even have to be a stallion. Foxes were adorable, but with their sleek teases, unending glances, looks, and touches that made promises creating a time consuming game play. Unlocking that secret, the chest required submission. A passive submission to make the first move. It was not the dream. He craved to be wanted, to be approached, to be courted, a Reptus in shiny scales as it may be. Though he never was one for the scaly ones, even if they could secrete their own lubrication, the eye licking turned him off instantly.

At home, he tapped up the stairs, which had to be big enough for his hooves, his shiny honds pulled out his clicks to match the blocker in the door. This land lord made sure that blockers were up to date in these unsafe cities. The right click found he placed it in the bottom hole first, a perfect fit. Turning clicked, thus its name, and in the combination order, up hole, right, then left as last the blocker unlatched its four prongs from the door frame. Not very effective if someone wanted to get in or leave in a hurry.

Trotting up to his apartment the home click did its thing before the hard stone flooring appeared and lamps all normal for his demographic group, shaped like horse shoes. If anyone made those for real, Straph thinks there would be a visit to the congress for prejudice or slavery. Horse Shoes, really! Why put metal things underneath perfect hooves. If the Equines just groom often enough, there would be no problems he thought.

Pocket stuffs dropped into bowls, clicks went on the tails, curled metal to hold multitudes of things such as coats, hats, or shirts. His pants were already sliding down his rippled thighs as he moved to the bathroom. With a practiced swing they hit the hamper sliding down into deep black, waiting for cleaning. The shirt came over mane and plopped into the hungry laundry eater. One more artical which always by instinct made Straph look around for some shy reason. He slid down his breed covers. Always tight. Horses are not easy to shop for. Running Track, the leading brand is the best with material, stretchiness, and endurance, but they were the next MIg Route over a raven's flight away. It was bad enough an eagle's hunt did not have enough raven flights in a day to get things pulled around here.

Water blasted from the shower head. Enough thinking about mundane things. The tub was cast steel, a most wonderful upgrade from two decades ago porcelines. Those broke too often with his stepping in. A fortune to keep replacing. Not doable on his pay.

The temperature rose as the cleaning turned tub water brownish, an unhappy reminder of his hard day of labor. Straph hated that part because he felt like he was dirtier than he wanted to be. His mane was thankful to drink, nourished, revitalized, bouncing, and beautiful. He was a Noirrutt breed, which meant, not an inch of his fur was any color save black. The mane and tail on the other hand was snow white which makes him pop out of any crowd. Hygene is always important to the stud sight. In any scene he was the top of the lists that many approach first in the night.

Memories danced on his experiences. Rabbrish was his favorite. She had no idea. A whole night looking for a loving and he even danced with her because nothing was happening. When her ears perked after 8 drinks, her lips found air which surprised her into a rage. Explaining made it worse of course. The ninth drink was down his pants which he could not help but just let her vent. From that time on, he made sure any she flesh would know he was gay and there was no chance. Prancing was so much easier this way.

Sopee lathered his honds and rolling the plant oils in the scrub cloth it fizzed with purple bubbles as he coated himself working his hair roots getting down to the skin. Important to get under the coat or the breed is not clean. Too many wet smelling dogs have come into the clubs and they did not get the hint. Even with the circle around them because no one could stand their scent. The wolves finally could not take it. The pack picked them up physically removed them.

Wolves loved the physical game, but they were mostly matching to their own breed. Play things happened, it was seen in the commons around the world, but not often would wolves mate with another for long or for life. To experience the pleasure, was a fleeting dream as it was written by Duck Winger, "His food came first, his property second, then there was me. Seven years of this can break me, but I held on foolishly. Coming home to packed bags on the front step, his crossed arms, a snarl that showed only his front teeth and ears flat back. No words were shared, just that soft growl which translated "its over!" I picked up my luggage, left, and from the hotel started this book." Come to think about it, Duck Winger sold over 100,000 copies of that story. Hmmm Straph wondered if a book on his waiting for "the one" would be any good if he started to write?

Over the shoulders and around the chest digging under each pit at a time the smell finally started to change. A jasmine tonight and a tinge of orange zest after scent which will give him relaxing base but a vigorous reminder what he was after. Others would recognize his intentions as the receiver of the scent would approach calm, but know he had something to offer. His Abs always tickled even with him performing the deed.

Getting the Corter Rubber which helped reach his back haunches and saddle parts of his spine, the scrub brush was his pride and joy. Some simple pleasures of life did not have to be sexual, just satisfying. One day that will be something to look up on the Spider Com, "saddle parts", he wondered where it came from. Shivering despite the hot shower, memories of six hands caressing all over still made him feel it in memory. Archy was WAY too forward for him. Several times his dangles were being crunched, his handle touched, and his mane tangled too much for his comfort. Stallion required everything to be in place until the moment and arachnid breeds messed it up. That and they come with their own bondage equipment which made mystery out of the question with them. You know what you're getting into if you dare hook up with that he thought to himself and scrubbed harder to get the creepies off him.

Favorite parts were now to be cleaned. It jumped a bit at anticipated attention. Teasing himself he bent low and braced himself with the wall as he raised his hoof. The lather takes off outer coating of soils and dusts, but their deep clean happens out of the shower. Abs almost touching manhood which tried to touch his silky surface. I want to be cleaned it seemed to express. Continuing to purposefully ignore Straph did the other hoof. Feeling the blood flow from hot temperatures, the anatomy's member would no longer tolerate ignorance. Hardening with more girth it slapped him in the solar plexus. Smilling the stallion knew the ritual to prevent any premature events, with him being so sensitive. It is important to train.

Sudzy honds rapped around the meat and gave a gentle grip by the tip. Gasping slightly he slowly pulled back purposely bumped his HELLO mark. His hand position was no longer possible as the rush started to come. His heat intensified as the gorge made his fingers impossible to wrap around it all. Moaning lightly he pretended it was not his hond, but a fleshy hole. Tentacles might be erotic, he side railed in thought. Something he never tried, but JellI breeds unfortunately had born problems with not able to touch living flesh. But an octopus arm, with sucking action all the way, he smiled.

That did the trick as the pulse grew faster, the feeling becoming more sensing, and the thought of destination dominating his goals. Orange zest exploded in his nostrils and hint of jasmine as the self loving moment became a pounding race as he heaved in and out air gasps rocking with the rythm. Fully prepared, he added a hip pumping action seeing a sihouette bent over in front of him. Feeling the air as if the vision were true he licked his maw and neyed as he humped his fist adding the second so a full sensation could be had.

Pumping raged with fierce focus the real feelings made his tissues tense as the body prepared. Skunk came to mind. That was a very close call. One year ago, such a romantic creature. Drinks were paid for and they even went out twice. But being in the closet, Skully was way too shy and thoughts of raping him into awakenness would waste the stallion's virginity on opening some one else up. No, no, nooo. It had to be the other way around, but for fun, Straph hammered his fists which tightened as far as they could go and HELLO! The spot was hit, the time right, that picture of Skully screaming his name "STRAPH!" Carrying the last sound on his gasping breath as the silhouette dream body before him fell off his man meaty dream pleaser, gushing out the elixer of lust. Skunks would not mind, Straph giggled, as they had a white streak and spots on them any way.

Fleshy bit shrank out of use and drained of life until it was summoned again. The stallion had the gift of what seemed an on demand supply. His most adventurous self exploritory week end he went 23 times, which truthfully counted the very quick squirts that occurred during the pornos. Gushes, well, then that narrows it to a modest 12. Impressive to most breeds, but for stallions, 10-15 is a relative norm per week ends. Straph knows a couple that rarely has week ends off. They don't work, but they can't function properly for company either.

Washing down the larger than normal drain hole, the jelling fluids drained away and with another sad sigh his dream fading, Straph rewashed his man area promising to renew that dream. Even if it wasn't a skunk, a horse, a shark, an ostridge, that would be a wild ride, any one, as long as it was "the one".

Club Ride the Night was packed tonight. He had his choice of any breed, any style, anyone, they were all there. But "the one" was all he wanted. Twenty six years old and still a virgin, most would pay for sex by this point. But not Straph, life called to him. It told him that if he waited, his hope, his desire, his dream would flourish. The universe would provide when the timing was right, all he had to do was surf the waves of fate till the tide of destiny came in. Rested from his long week, excited for the prospects, he got his game on and went with the macho I'm here, yes, look at me. Touch and I'll hoof your paw, claw, head in mid strut.

Looking at the line he found the end, took his spot and waited. He knew how to play it, and he was right on time. Three minutes later a working Wolf came from the front, black tee shirt glowing with lit glue splotting the clubs' name on it. His muscles made his head smaller, but his teeth were as sharp as any carnivorus breedling. His natural weapon insurance must be pricy as they were perfectly white, in line, and looking deadly. "You! Hey there stallion." He growled seductively. "Looking to get inside?" Flourish of tail always made Straph grin.

Barkollar was one of Straphs' few friends. He made sure that he came here only so often as to not abuse the privilage. The wolf was straight, but was a big supporter for gay rights all around "love whom you love". And he took it as personal responsibility that Staphs' back was covered during his nights at the club and he even tried to find the right guy for him.

"Yeah sire. But here is the line." Pointing with his shiny hond digit which symbolized that he was still single, Barkollar responded with ear twitch for the horse to be prepared. Sniffing he went on to Straph and carressed his shoulders. "Well I'm going to work in there see, and they have incentives to my salary package. I'm allowed a date for the night and since you are a gorgeous thing, by yourself." It was always weird having a straight guy's paw slide up and down his man staff. So arousing! Add another shadow on the cave wall. But Barkollar and Straph rehearsed this script. The wolf wanted Straph to find someone. "Twenty Six years is too Fuckin long horse guy. For your breed, you may be dead before you get laid. I do say you are the calmest son of a bitch I've ever met who has not gotten any." The wolf could not fathom not getting laid by 1years old. He felt pity and sad for Straph and wanted to help.

Oh but Straph knew secrets no straight sire would ever admit to being pleasurable. With his honds, knowledge, and how he bends, every day things, positions, and experiences can become a very intense sexual experience. Still no substitute for warm flesh, but it does the trick and rewires thoughts. This wolf was just looking out for him. Once he was even saved by a brute of a bull who was too insistent on leaving with him. Barkollar strolled over and Frenched him in front of the bull. The flaring heat from those nose holes made everything so much more steamy. The stallion almost was knocked unconscious form lack of breath that wolf tongue stole from him. They even laughed their tails into flurries of wags and swooshes over dinner with his girlfriend.

Using pretended force the wolf worker pulled Straph out of line "then its a done deal horsey. Your my stallion for tonight." Claw around his waist guiding him the wolf challenged anyone looking with his straightened tail, semi errect ears, and one curled muzzle droop lip. The crowd did not know jealousy until that night. The Noirrutt and a Wolf together. They did not know if they wanted the horse, the wolf, or both. Ah let them have their own dreams Straph thought.

Music made the doors rattle as the wolf made his way. At the snake coil dividers for the line a moose with the same type of shirt as the wolf, arms crossed looked down at them. "He's with me MO!" Toing me with his paw the moose stomped an acceptance with a small crack of a smile of hello to Straph. MO was not his friend, but knew of him and Barkollar's intentions of helping him out. He even opened the door for him.

The world of lights and scents flooded out as the doors opened. Inside they went and there was an ocean of characters here. Barkollar poked a couple of jokes, walked Straph to the bar and mentioned he had to punch in for work, but he had his back if needed. With pleasant thanks and glazing over the room a strange feeling came to him instantly. Thousands of scents, senses, his tail flicked as if a fly near his rump, but these places have chemical bug protection programs running on them. Even that scent did not compete with something pure. It was intoxicating. Powerfully sexual, lusting, with a hint of aggression, but not for violence sake, just raw, power is the best to describe it.

Mane flared as the bar keep poured up a Flash Male for Straph, one of his favorites. Spicy intake which quickly sweetens to a lemon, slash, clementine flavor. Barkollar was strolling the dance floor when the music changed. Beams flashed white with swirly colors all over the floor, there was a quick clearing and wings. Ears jumped to attention as the black leather, gold under coloring sparkled with lights reflecting off them and through them showing vein and bone. Ears large, but not as big as rabbits, its nose shone gleam as did the eyes, large and innocent. Fur was in perfect order even while fancy dancing, menuevering those wings around the crowd. Not a bad build, good legs, which for his breed were used as claws too to handle things where the wings would then become feet. Bats were never seen on this commune and they would not normally be seen outside their families.

Known for their spiritual beliefs, the breed took to more philosophical approach to life than most breeds. Technology is lesser, laws are based more on council rather than courts, families are expected to uphold the law rather than leaving their commune to enforce it. A bit strange and Straph could not say yay or nay if it worked or not. They thrive and for most the part are a comfortable breed. One being out means "different" and that was good for Straph. Swinging back his drink, which by empty glasses, three have passed already he made his way to the dance floor. Time to change the beat.

Two ass grabs and a few ball feelers there, Straph had to make some sacrifices and just told himself There not for you guys, go find some other easy grazer. On the floor, his hooves made great dance moves, the way his legs were built allowed for bouncing that no one could mimic. The music took him and for what seemed to be minutes came to be a couple hours as the sweat was noticeable. Looking around as one song ended, starting to huff a bit, the bat was no where in sight.

Wading through to Barkollar the wolf said he did not see him. "He's not a regular that is for sure. Never saw him before." The night was very eventful as the stallion turned down three one night stands and one date. At the bar two more empty glasses of Stompers added to his bill. Straph was getting finally tired of this. Beside him a porcupine smiled twirled on his bar stool and jumped towards the dance floor. Those two huge eyes with lights reflecting around Straphs' own reflection were there. Ears twitching every now and then with that nose and its many layers vibrating sonic images he must be receiving. A unique shirt worn for the breed to not define his abdomen but give it character with pants that definitely advertised. The horse wondered if he was worth it on the fact he could snap this poor helpless creature in two. Maybe multiple pieces.

After a moment he spoke. "Sire, I saw you come in with the wolf worker. Is he your mate?" Started conversation on the other end put the horse into instant preparation mode. This was normal, honest, conversation, and a rarity in of itself. One star he noted.

"No. Not he. I'm out on the town tonight, he's a friend I just met. Not the wolf type of breed meself." He smiled which shown several teeth that were smaller than most canivoruous, but like an oral saw waiting to slice into something. "You? I saw some of your moves out there. There must be some one body guarding that." He did not seem to express much as with most breeds, but the scent of pleasantness was caught.

"Single bat also on the town. And no. Don't need protection because of the clichees of my kind carrying diseases." Not being the prejudice type, the horse forgot all about the claims of many breeds. Bats ate your hair, stole children in the night, sucked your blood from your body so they could fly as other people can't. The list goes on.

"Well we are pretty open minded, as you can see, in this commune."

"There is always someone." His head looked slightly down which stabbed Straph in the heart. This one was damaged. Which meant risks have just increased. Possible drama, friend, or acquaintenence, most likely nothing what he might expect. Unpredictable experience. He'll have to watch for the signs of "emergency exiting" the club.

"Cheer up chap. You've made it through the night this far." That seemed to bring a smile. If that was a smile. His head made it very awkward to read. Again pleasantness came to scent.

"Thank you sire."

"Now no more of that. Call me Straph." Seeing the wing do what it did should have been freeky, but the stallion was amazed that the membrane folded with bones arranged almost like a handler claw. Taking his hond, the wing's leather was very not temperatured which made it unusual, but not uncomfortable. "And you are? My friend?"

Again that strange smile while he did not let go for another second of his hond, he responded "I am Nighthopper, it is a pleasure."

"That is an unusual name. What common are you from?" His ears went back a bit and winged his muzzle for licking a second and then wet his eyes.

"My parents migrated us many times in my youth. I've seen a far share. For now I've moved to New Hampster. There I study in the university and am planning to become a stage magician."

Now Straph has heard many a story, careers, self arrogant boasting, making themselves feel important and wanting to impress, but this? Magician was never a pick up career you would tell someone. Not something you would lie about. And they have magician schooling?

"I can't say I've heard anything like that before Nighthopper. You planning to become like one of those dragon illusionists? I've seen some of their shows, impressive." Looking away to see if the bat would take offense personally, this would be a sign of self degration which Straph wanted nothing to do with.

Nighthopper actually surprised him. "No, not really. I'm actually in the line of work of helping others through mystical means." Now this was possibly one of the horse's cues. He finished the drink he was working on, looked up over the bar to see the Aves flight ticks and found it safe to call out "Flaggin? Could I have a tab update please?" Just in case. Turning back to the bat he took a breath.

"Helping? By what means do you do that?" His explaination was actually enthralling. People who are lost, lost something, someone, need help sorting stuff out, or just good old fashion support on a spiritual level. He was simple. Not forcing his views, just stating facts and operations, and by the later evening Straph did not mind his conversations. As unusual as his experiences were.

Aves ticked twelve flaps and that means Straph was down to just a couple hours of game time. He shared with Nighthopper his family, love of mind, dream of "the one" and hoping one day it would happen. With out realizing it, his defenses were gone. Unaware, not by boose, but it was comfortable talking with this guy. He told him practically everything. It wasn't until that strange temperature wing hond touched his bicep that he came to a stop of spilling his guts.

"I'm very sorry to interrupt Straph. But you've had a lot to drink, it is nearly the next eagle hunt and I don't want to impose on your night out. If you would like I wouldn't mind dancing with you if you have no objections." Polite! Wow on many planets was this guy not from here? The horse was never treated this way. Straph took a look around the room and no scent or view caught his eye. It has been pleasant enough with this one. "I'd love too."

The bat lead the way gently touching his fur surface. Very respectful. This guy was not his type, not sexy, kind of handsome, but overall what was he thinking? Then again, sex and partnering is not all there is to life. Living is what life is all about. Doing his dip, bounce introduction to the dance floor the bat gracefully joined him. They twirled, dipped, bounced, and jammed. With out missing one beat, Straph noticed Nighthopper was in his arms during a slow song his head against his slowing down chest heaves as if listening to his heart. He even kept a respectful slight space between them as they slowly moved. Now and again those wings would give a small caress and hug making Straph feel happy. As if he was cared for and the love this guy projected was genuine. As much as he thought, not partner material, he did not want him to go.

Flaps were past the new eagle hunt and they did fly when you were having fun. Sweaty and tiring, it was time for nightcap. Getting to the bar Straph raised his hond to catch Flaggin's eye when he shook his beak. The Stork nodded at Nighthopper. The horse whipped his head to look at the bat. How the hell did he make time to pay for his tab and when did he do it? Going to ask the question Nighthopper placed his one claw on the forward lips of the stallion slowly shaking his head.

"You shared alot with me tonight. I'm thankful. It is the least I can do. Thank you for a great evening. Will you be okay going home?" Buzzed but not drunk, ears raised slightly as this was one of Straphs' signs and he was trying to get his maw to work when Nightopper added, "I can call you a cab." He turned to ask the bar keep for phone book, looked up the number, and pulled out his cell to dial for Straph. All the while the horse could not say anything. It was utterly amazing.

"They'll be here in 10 minutes, come on. I'll walk you to the road."

"How will you get home?" Straph was waiting for the sly trick in the book. I'll ride in the cab to get you home and then I'll move on. Once again the universe played with the horses' sense of the future. "I have wings, my only drinks were 5hrs ago, I've been on bubble nectars all night. I'll be fine." This time, Straph must be getting use to him, the smile shone, a bright innocence that made him think his dream would come true.

Barkollar followed them to the doors making sure his buddy was all set until he left the building where his protection ended, but hoping even if it was with that strange fellow. Hopes for his friend to get laid. MO nodded to them. Nighthopper had to grab hold the stallion with all his strength to stabalize him from a near fall. Straph was wondering why he used his move on Nighthopper. He was saving it for a hook up. But it was nice to have those comforting wings on him again. He leaned in a bit.

Stroking for comfort Nighthopper stayed until the cab came. Straph turned and faced him. "Good night" is what he meant to say. He meant to end it. He meant to go home and sleep, but "Nighthopper would you come home with me?" came out. No reasoning, logic, it was unthinkable. The cab driver saw the two outside the door. Gorgious stallion a powerful horse of night with a kind a okay bat breed that probably had diseases. He shook his rooster head and went back to starring at the road till they decided if one or both would get in.

"Straph?!" His head looked at the horse's chest, then up into his eyes. "You are the most beautiful creature I've met yet. To have that asked of you to me is like a dream come true. But hun. I know that I am not your dream. You've been saving your hopes, desires, and future for someone special. I can't take that from you when you are obviously not thinking clearly." He motioned to the cab. "May be I'll see you again here or around?" The horse ached as if rejected. What kind of emotions this man welled up was unfathomable. This made NO SENSE AT ALL!

Getting into the cab, Nighthopper gently closed the door. Leaning in just a bit from his lips a long thin tongue slid out and brushed Straph's cheek. "This is not good bye, just. Think on it." The ride home was so confusion piled that the stallion did not realize the cab stopped until the driver woke him. Paying the man he got out and went up stairs to get ready for bed. Prepared for action, excited for may be the one, and some one not "the one" comes along and now the home feels empty with out him there.

Trying to get his mind off he took a quick shower and crawled into the huge metal bed that had a silk straw hay filling and most wonderful pillows so he could sleep on his side, the only way he could sleep. A foggy cloud blinded his vision as sleep pulled him deep.

It was still night time and looking around 430 aves flaps ticked on his wall. Straph got up slowly feeling a heat in his head, and balance was off a bit. The buzz was now worn off. Carefully he got to the bath room for a drink of water when he noticed his shower curtain was closed. The water was running, and the room was smoked with heat. Honds slowly pulled aside the clothe and there in the shower was Nighthopper. "This is a dream. It has to be." Those bat eyes found his and in his mind he spoke. "It seems you can't let me go. So I'm here, you're here, we're here together."

Strangely Straph felt ashamed and was shaking his mane. He tried to speak but could not. "Let me give you some tastes of my skills Straph. Here in this dream of yours and you may then think if I am right for you." Wings molded again into handling claws and the membranes gestured strangely, those words of high pitches made no sense and then the horse hairs stood on end. Creepies he was familiar with. Something was happening that made him uncomfortable. His legs pivoted and behind him mist swirls became solid tentacles that slammed the door shut. He backed away and looked at Nighthopper finally finding his voice, "what are you doing?"

"I'm giving you something to think about stallion." You want different. You want "the one." But in each of us we have fantasies that we never truly explore or realize. When they do happen we are frightened and our dreams become our nightmares." Not knowing what he was talking about the mist tentacles slowly were entangling Straph. His thighs, neck, waist were all supported and he realized he was being raised. About to protest One steam swirl flew into his throat.

A first of his many fantasies that has not happened was to give a blow job. This is not exactly what he intended, but strangely enough he was aroused from it. The swirl was felt more by temp than pressure as it worked into his throat and down to his lung continuing to feed him oxygen while reflexively the horse started to suckle the spell tentacle.

"You don't know why Straph? You can't place a hoof on it. It doesn't make sense to you because I exist outside the NORM of the micro and macrocosms. Between worlds of night and day, space and time, of love and hate. I exist where you don't understand why you want me, and you fight your instincts of desire. I am the thing that is senseless but can be right, even if wrong." He heard the mind words as his throat pulsed with the steam swirl triggering his man meat to a semi erect state. If this was a dream,what ever he thought, it was a good dream.

Making more gestures and speaking down a deeper sonics Nighthopper stepped from the tub. "But I spoke truth. I aim to help people." Wings moved about his thigh areas and though the tendrites held him firm those wings made his meat bounce. That strange temperature sensation, but the feeling they wanted to comfort him.

Eyes closed, mouth sucking at the wet some what material tentacle the horse started to wonder what would be next. Opening his eyes and looking down, those bat eyes were not so innocent now. A greenish hue was taken up and the wings slowly caressed some nice parts of his inner legs when Nighthopper's mouth opened, he took a deep breath. The sonic vibration that rippled his pelvis, his cock, his hole caused a natural spasm that immediately hardened everything. A moan would have come out, but the mist tentacle apparently absorbed sound. Rithing in the bindings Straph tried to grab his dick, to stroke it, to find a way to release the sensation. Squirming was of no use but he could not help it. Like a netted fish about to die, he was helpless. Wanting release as those notes bombed his sex driven area, all the right spots, all the right feelings, all at the same time made him silently scream and cry. Never has he felt anything like it.

Some how the fists he was making relieved a bit of pressure. He could not bite down on anything so it was all he could think of. Water bubbled behind Nighthopper and more tentacles surfaced into the air and went for his honds. Between each digit the wetness worked its way in and forced them open. Now spread and he no longer has his release, the tension magnified.

Straphs' eyes flashed open with ecstasy of nearing madness. Was this possible? Could this be happening? He was thrusting in the air now, nothing there for his lust to seek and penetrate. He tried to whimper but no air came out. He tried to curse, but there was no words. Fucking harder the air made no release and he was there at the brink already. He is was not even sure he would be able to go again after this. Heat furried his lust to just FUCK ANYTHING LET ME CUM PLEASE LET ME CUM.

It could not get worse almost entered his head when Nighthopper's tongue slammed into his exposed hole. He screamed! With anticlimactic results having no sound . Between reality and fantasy it would never be heard. That super warm flesh wiggled, tickled and even stroked Straph's prostrate as if knowing where to find it. Nighthopper's muzzle came closer, digging that tongue deeper until lips sucked at Straphs' taint adding to the still rumbling muscles. Munching on his hole the shower tentacles grabbed hold violently Straphs' fully erected cock, engulfing it repeatedly.

The weirdness went out the door, the confusion was lost, thought paled to this new reality. The stallion embraced it, wanted it, devoured it, _YES, THIS WAS WHAT I TRULLY WANTED! _ Could he ever go back?

Screaming Straph woke up in a pool of stickiness. His hole was slimy and warm, balls were shrivled and hurt. His bed, sheets, floor, head board, and even parts of the walls were covered in his man juice. He felt dehydrated, weakened, but with no reason, all he wanted, was a cup of cofee and to find Nighthopper. That was amazing, weird, not the norm, not normal at all. To have dreams like that definitely meant Straph was past time to get some.

As he cleaned his apartment, he thought of all the qualities "the one" would have and found from his dream some things are not what they appear to be. If you go looking for something, there will be times you will miss a new experience. Adventurous risk to discover new limits, parts of yourself, things you never known to exist. Even if Nighthopper did not have such spells, talents, or powers. One fact holds true that Straph remembered. He was honest, genuine, pleasant, and there was nothing he could not say to him that he felt he had to be another person, hold back, or even lie. Straph stopped dead as he placed the soaked sheets, blankets, and cases into the laundry. Does this mean my dream of "the one" is an illusion? A dream compared to what matters truly to me?

That night, Nighthopper was at Riding the Night club, and when Staph entered in, this time with his clothes chosen to seek and explore, the bat smiled at him from the dance floor. The horse should have been confused, scared even, from the weirdness of that dream. No. This is now reality and it was his own mind that made him chose. There he was, now on the dance floor, in his arms, the Noirrutt pulled him beyond the respect point, in close so they were feeling everything. The bat sighed in comfort, the horse nuzzled his ear breathing warmth back at the peaceful creature.

"I've never met anyone like you." The bat looked up. Round innocent eyes only wanting to please. He smiled and reached in slowly for the first kiss. The place he first saw him. The place they hooked up. Straph did not like the kiss. But it was passionate and still made him feel comforted. Guiding Nighthopper to the bar Straph caught Barkollar's eyes. He was smiling, nodding, and giving two paws up to his horse friend. Snorting a laugh he returned to his date. "What's so funny?" the bat giggled. Straph's hond patted the adorable creature's face. "Just how things work." The second kiss was much better.

Even though he was not tied up in magic, the bat had tricks of his own that made it a dream come true. On the good side, Straph only had to clean off his bed and not his whole home again. Oh, and his new boyfriend. That adorable bat who made home feel like he had no more masks that needed to be worn. On Monday, Nighthopper even brought him lunch at work. Yup. The masks were definitely gone. Dreams were over. It was time to be true and be real. Sighing in the sun lit air, Straph wondered what life would bring his way next.