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Colt of the Cloth

(Episode I: Speaker's Chair)

Know what you're good at, and apply it. That was the key - and San knew exactly what he was good at.

He may not have been the best singer in the choir, or have the highest voice of them all (at least under normal circumstances) but the one thing he truly was good at, he applied himself at.

In his white ceremonial but oddly comfortable robes, he stepped up to the podium. Opening his maw and tilting his head back to get the perfect pitch, he began to sing of angels, though the long drawn out syllables needed meant anybody who wasn't accustomed to hearing it wouldn't be able to make out the words anyhow. He was aware of a slight pressure being applied to his back; a paw-shaped impression, specifically, but he ignored it and continued on.

Multi-tasking was a large part of what made San good at what he did. He could sing harmoniously, not faltering at all while the steed behind him pressed his large fingers down his slender back. He could even ignore the gentle exhale, and the warm breath against his cheek as the horse whispered slightly of how well he was doing.

"Remember the crescendo, now... don't forget to relax your tenor." Muttered the equine, his creeping hands roaming further down San's robed body. They didn't roam for long, though; as soon as they were on his tight buttocks, they stopped, and squeezed...

Normal boys wouldn't be able to deal with this, San thought while counting his breaths between verse. They'd chicken out, or get distracted, falter or... or moan at how deliciously naughty it felt, being touched so firmly in a house meant for worship.

With both of his cheeks currently occupied by delightfully groping hands, San began to feel another pressure building up between them. It was pretty unmistakable, but the surprise of it caught him off-guard and made him falter slightly. He carried on, but it had not gone un-noticed.

A firm smack on his buttocks sounded, echoing across the pews. "Concentrate, boy! You want to make your priest proud, now don't you?"

"You're not a priest, asshole, you're just a pervert who pays well." That's what San WANTED to say, but fortunately he knew better. He closed his eyes, steadied his paws on either side of the podium and concentrated on his soft, high vocals; the growing bulge of the Father pressing up against his rear.

Duncan was lucky to find a boy like Sandria. Not only did he have an adorable body and name, but he also had the mischievous attitude that really sparked a flame in the pants of the middle-aged colt. He'd come from three cities over just to meet with the boy, and though he had planned to rent out a hotel for some mildly boring roleplay, San had found something... so much better. Don really had done him a solid on this one.

Sandria really did sing in the choir - and more than that, he was used to sneaking in after hours to get in some legitimate practice. That made it very easy to get into Duncan's favourite fantasy - with him as a man of the cloth, and Sandria as the upcoming choirboy in need of... guidance. Besides, as San himself had said, "A big colt like you could sure help me stretch my 'lil throat out for those deeper notes!"

Donning some spare robes was as easy as simply taking them - as long as they were washed and put back, which San promised would be the case, nobody would be any the wiser. Duncan thought about this as he stood behind the robed boy, whose tail was keeping the back side of those faded white robes up. His attention was soon caught by his straining jeans - his bulging equine cock begging to be set free.

He had time, though. He squeezed San's buttocks again, savouring the feel of those tight, warm cheeks, before gently pressing his cloth-bound cock between them. The feeling was insatiably good--

"H-hello?"

A voice echoed through the somewhat empty church halls, and the angelic singing swiftly stopped. There was a fumbling noise, and hushed cursing as an elderly wolf, wearing a black suit and a white collar of the church, came through the side-passage. "Sandria my child, is that you? You know you shouldn't be in here all alone-- O-oh..."

Duncan and San were standing proudly beside the podium, San's robed body blocking the view of Duncan's prominent bulge. "I know, father, please forgive me." he said, with expertly practiced charm. "But as you can see, I am not alone. This is... uh..."

For a second time, he found himself faltering. This wasn't supposed to happen, and he began to sweat slightly, before Duncan laid a heavy, supportive hand on his shoulder. "I am father Waxely, sent by the church of Dinners Dale. I must have had my days mistaken, please excuse my intrusion - young Sandria here was just showing me your flock's place of worship."

Surprised at himself as much as the situation, Duncan smiled confidently at the priest, who squinted and moved his glasses slightly. With shuffled steps, he began walking toward the pair, and Duncan began to feel more panicked than before - only making the strain on his jeans worsen.

"Oh, we uh... we had not heard of your arrival... Waxely, was it?" The wolf said, curiously.

"Y-yes, father. My uh... my minister sent me in lieu of the preparations for... uh..."

"For the summer solstice!" San piped up, holding his paws behind himself. While this looked cute and innocent, it also gave him the perfect chance to get back at the stud behind him by giving his surprisingly hard bulge a much-needed squeeze.

"You said we'd have a celebration of togetherness, remember Father?"

The elderly wolf took a seat in one of the front pews and took his glasses off for a clean. "I did? Oh... yes, of course. I must have! Well, you are welcome here, father Maxwell!"

"It's... it's Waxely, father."

"Well, Saxley, I see you've found our spare robes. Feel free to keep them for the duration of your visit. I'm glad Sandria here could facilitate your needs, however, as you're well aware, young boys are not allowed in the church halls unsupervised."

"I understand, father. He is supervised by myself, and therefore by God."

San tensed up. He currently had one paw through the jean openings of Duncan, wrapped tightly around the base of his cock, and this guy was dropping the G-bomb? Maybe he was smoother than San had originally thought...

"Well, I just came in here to brush up on my Corinthiens..." The elder wolf said, gently stroking the pew's arm like that of an old friend. "...but I suppose I should begin my preparation blessings for the solstice. I trust you two will be fine in this house."

San and Duncan nodded, grinning almost wide enough to encourage the top of their heads falling off, watched as the wizened old priest got up and shuffled back to the side-door he came from.

Only when he was sure they were alone did San say "...And here I thought my tongue was talented."

"You can thank me later." Duncan chuckled, moving one hand down to re-arrange his tight-fitting jeans. San turned around and stopped him with one paw, the other resuming it's shaft-stroking.

"Or you can thank me right here, right now..."

The stud moaned out slightly, still wary of listening ears, but let San continue. He still scootched him back onto the podium, but with San facing him, he got a better idea than the one that had previously crossed his mind.

"Someone else could come in, you know, seeing a priest in here 'ain't nothing special, but a priest and a choirboy? Maybe you should--"

Without having to be told, Sandria knelt onto his knees. From most perspectives, nobody would see him behind the podium, gently unbuttoning the horse's jeans and sliding them down to his ankles. Free at last, the happily throbbing equine cock sprang forth and promptly brushed along the cheek fur of the young boy. "O-oohh, that's what I'm talking about..."

Lifting the man's robes so he could hide beneath (but barely), San giggled to himself and took in the sight of the member in front of him. It was already pretty hard, though if he knew anything about equines, which he most certainly did, he knew it still had some growing room. "Waste no time in pleasing thy father..." he whispered, taking the length in both hands and gently beginning to lick the flared tip. The moan from above encouraged him further, and the stiffness as he stroked down the long shaft bounced the tip at juuuuust the right angle...

San took a deep breath before wrapping his maw around the tip, using his tongue to coax more of the deliciously forbidden fruit into his cheeks. He couldn't take much until it hit the back of his throat, but he'd prepared for this and with one swift movement, pushed forward.

Duncan gripped the sides of the pew. He felt his knees beginning to wobble, and although he still feared people coming in and finding him out, that was a distant thought at the back of his head right now. The tight confines of his jeans had finally been abolished, and now he stood there, moaning softly under his breath as the young pup under the hard wood began to suckle on his hard wood. The small hands were expertly paced, and he shivered slightly as one for-went it's shaft-stroking and instead handled his large, hanging balls.

Leaning heavily on the podium now, the large horse slipped one hoof out from his jeans and kicked them over behind the benches to the left. This gave him free reign to spread his legs a bit, and gently thrust into the cub's welcoming, tight throat. He heard a splutter from below, and held his position for just a few more seconds - his tip squeezed down the throat of the adorable young pup a feeling he'd not soon let go of, before pulling back and letting him breath.

"You okay down there, pup?"

The coughing stopped, and San stood up, his hardon clearly showing through his robes. "Y-you almost choked me, asshole!"

"Well... maybe I can make it up to ya, cutie." Don said, his cock throbbing to attention below him. San took a moment to scowl at him, before smiling coyly and turning around. Duncan stepped down from the podium to allow Sandria room, before pushing his cock between the legs of the boy. "Have ya taken a horse cock before, lad?"

"What's the matter, stud? Don't tell me you have a shy dick~" San replied, looking back with a wide grin. He knew he'd pay for that, but it was worth it. To emphasize his point, pulled up his robes and held them there with his tail as before, wiggling his tight butt from side to side. "C'mon, father -- bless me with your holy rod!"

Growling playfully, the equine pushed San's back down hard against the oak wood and spread his legs with his hooves, letting his cock rise and grind back and forth against the bridge of the pup's buttocks, drawing out a soft whinny. "Shy dick, eh? I'll show you how to play with a father of the cloth, boy!"

Duncan nor Sandria cared anymore about possible intrusion on their lovemaking. Making sure he had the boy's hip tightly by one hand, the equine lined up his flared, thick tip up with the tight hole presented to him and pushed forward, filling his clenching ass with four inches of barely-lubricated, throbbing horse meat.

"G-gahh~! S-slow down, you ffff--father!" San screamed out, his voice echoing across the large stone walls. He had to admit, he loved it when guys took charge and were forceful - but he couldn't let HIM know that...

"I'll go as Nnf-- fast as I want, boy! The holy spirit waits for no man!"

San almost giggled at that, but was too busy concentrating on the pure pleasure/pain mix emanating from his newly stretched rear. He grunted and scratched the wood surface as he felt another length of the horse's thick cock slide gracefully into place, his tip stretching out his inner walls with blissful determination.

Taking a moment to let the boy get accommodated with almost half of his meaty length, and so that he didn't finish too early, Duncan bent over his squirming plaything. Snuffling at the back of the boy's neck, he gracefully pulled back slightly, almost presenting San with some relief - before slamming his throbbing member deeper inside his extremely tight, warm ass. He wouldn't wait until San was ready. He'd been waiting for this unbelievable tightness for entirely too long!

Slowly but surely, the equine cock slid in and out of between San's tiny-by-comparison cheeks. Duncan was pushing further in each time, and San could feel it - his cock bounced with anticipation of him hitting *just* the right spot, and before he could moan out as he had expertly practiced, he found himself practically begging the horse to take him harder.

"A-aah! T-take me, father, take me all the way!"

Not being one to deny such a request and with a grin on his face, Duncan gripped the cub's side tight and began doing just that - he slammed home, forcing the entirety of his horse cock into the boy. No time was wasted - as soon as it was in, he'd pull half way out, and slam home again. Harder, faster, the pounding began to fall into a steady rhythm.

"Fuck, m-my child, you can take my blessing-- G-grr! Any time you need it!"

San looked back through misty eyes, his tongue lolling out of his maw as he held onto the podium as if for dear life. He could feel his inner walls throbbing around the horse cock, which filled him up to the brim and was currently hitting his orgasm-button like a mallet, over and over again. He felt it deep inside him, releasing hot beads of pre-cum that soothed his aching insides and lubricated his cheeks each time the stud pulled out.

The wet slaps of thigh-against-thigh were barely audible over the cub's lustful moans, only encouraging Duncan further. He began to lose his concentration, but leant over the boy and with both arms wrapped tightly around him, pulling him in for the hardest, roughest fucking of his life. The smell of the sweating pup and the moans coming from each of them kept pushing him further, and his mind felt like it was speeding down the orgasm highway. There was no consideration here, no pauses for soreness nor quietness in lieu of the public space, just simple, raw passion.

San could hardly handle it. His legs were weak and barely supporting him, and his claws had marked a considerable amount of the podium he was forcefully being fucked against. That didn't matter, though - the only thing that mattered was the amazing feel of the thick, throbbing horse cock pounding his tight, squeezing ass. Even his own orgasm, having forced it's way past his mental defenses and making him cry out through tearful eyes didn't stop him wanting more.

The front of his robes were stained white but his cock was still just as hard as before, the wet balls of the equine pummelling his sensitive entrance bouncing heavily against his at every thrust. He felt a familiar feeling; the throbbing, the increased heat deep inside him...

"C-come on, father! B-bless this cub! Fill him up w-with your --Oohh G-GoOOod!"

Unable to even finish a sentence, San fell into a moaning, panting state. He lifted his legs to give his bucking stud a little more room, which was used immediately. Duncan's thick cock was buried deep inside him, and he could feel every twitch, every last drop of pre-cum coating his inner walls.

"G-good boy, t-take it... A-ah, Y-yesss~!" Duncan called out, standing up straight as he delivered the final blow to the young boy's red-sore cheeks. He held there, his body tensed up, his cock throbbing hard as his equine seed spilled endlessly into the tight cub's well-worn ass. He couldn't help himself from pulling the cub's young frame against his hips a few more times as he filled them up, feeling several drops squeeze themselves from the tight seal the boy had around his cock and trickle down each of their legs.

"Fffuuh..."

The horse smiled, panting heavily. The shirt he was wearing under the robes was sweated through, but the cub's fore-thought of not wearing anything definitely had come in handy...

With a loud grunt, he pulled free - an audible 'pop' marking the end of their lovemaking - though several more spurts of hot, heavy cum from his cock marked the hair and back of the cub as he collapsed into a kneeling heap. "Your sins are forgiven, my son." he said jokingly, and San scooted around slightly, if only to lay back in front of the horse in return for the last few ribbons of fresh seed falling into his open maw.

"Thank you... father." he muttered after swallowing, still out of breath.

Eventually the two recovered enough, San being able to stand (though not walk comfortably) and Duncan being able to fit inside his jeans. They threw the robes, still heavily soaked from both of them, into the lost property hamper as they walked out of the front doors. "Y'know," San said as he felt the muscular arm wrap around one of his shoulders. "Maybe you could convince the father of this parish to keep you on?"

Both of them giggled, and San walked into the cool, now-night-time air, letting it refresh his naked, strutting body.