Parker’s Equine Transport

By Lacy22.
xxx-fiction-story-disclaimer-top2

My cell phone rang. It was my dad, calling from his truck up ahead of me on the highway. I put him on speaker as I concentrated on keeping my vehicle from drifting out of its lane. “Hey Pumpkin, that stallion is getting twitchy back there. I think we better pull off soon.”

Dad waited while I checked my GPS. “There’s a big commercial truck stop in about four miles,” I responded after a brief search. Dad agreed and hung up. As the exit approached, the right blinker on the horse trailer ahead of me came on. It and my dad’s diesel pickup drifted onto the off-ramp. Following in our RV, I turned off also. Dad pulled onto the huge asphalt expanse of the lot at the truck stop, heading for the seclusion of the unoccupied parking spots at the far end of the property. I pulled in near to him, feeling a sense of pride at the bold lettering on the truck and trailer — PARKER’S EQUINE TRANSPORT.

Dad and I had built the business up from scratch after Mom had left. I worked part time when I was still in high school, but in the two years since graduation I had gone to full time and the business had really taken off. We were building our reputation as one of the premier horse transporters in the nation. Our clientele trusted us with the delivery of multi-million dollar race horses and you can believe we raked in the money from that crowd.

Horses are by nature jumpy animals and frankly not all that bright on average. Race horses take that nervous energy to a whole different level, and in unskilled hands have been known to injure or even thrash themselves to death in a panic-induced frenzy in a trailer. With all the drug testing that goes on these days in high-stakes horse racing, giving the animal sedatives during the trip was of course out of the question. So owners were willing to pay handsomely for handlers like Parker’s — with our special skills and knowledge — to deliver their precious cargo across the country unscathed. In the case of a jittery stallion, the sure-fire solution was to find some way to tame his nervous sexual energy. Finding and eager-beaver volunteer was part of my job…

I turned off the engine in the RV and climbed out. As I passed by the horse trailer, the huge black stallion within gave a snort of curiosity and then lashed out with a hoof at the rear gate. The steel trailer shuddered under the impact and I flinched at the unexpected metallic bang. Yeah, he was definitely getting worked up in there and prompt attention was needed. I approached the passenger door of my dad’s white pickup truck. Dark tinted windows blocked my view into the cab, but the window rolled down as I approached. “I’ll see if there’s anything promising in the diner,” I announced. “You want anything while I’m there?” Dad said he didn’t and the window rolled back up into place.

Detouring back to the RV, I opened the door to the back and grabbed a magnetic sign. Attaching it to the steel door of the RV, I adjusted it to level and then gave it a quick once-over. ‘SILVER STARS TALENT AGENCY — Angela Wentworth, Owner – Hollywood, CA’ the sign proclaimed. I smiled. Ten bucks plus shipping on the internet, and suddenly I’m a movie and TV talent agent.

Walking across the wide parking lot I finally arrived at the truck stop diner. I stepped inside, removed my sunglasses, and surveyed the crowd. It was around mid-afternoon but there were still about a dozen patrons. I mentally discarded most of them immediately. Numerous truck-driver types, a family of three probably on vacation, a sorry looking drunk slumped in a booth… and there she was… just what I was looking for.

The girl was sitting by herself at the counter. She was a pretty thing, trim but with nice curves, about five foot three, sporting a blonde pixie haircut with just a tinge of fading pink dye. A light hint of freckles and a perky little upturned nose gave her a very cute appearance. A really nice pair of tits seemed to lurk within the confines of her tight shirt, and her perfectly formed rump was nicely on display as she straddled diner stool in a somewhat unladylike posture. The requisite rebellious-phase nose ring was present, as was a small tramp-stamp tattoo on her bare lower back. The frayed cut-off tee-shirt exposed plenty of firm midriff, suggesting that she might be used to getting by on her physical appeal. Fashionably ripped designer jeans betrayed she came from money, so she possibly didn’t have a ton of street smarts as of yet. Tugging self-consciously at the slipping hem of her low-rise jeans, she tied to cover up the exposed lavender waist band of her thong panties. She was picking at a plate of toast, hinting that funds were tight. And the grungy backpack on the stool next to hers told me she didn’t have a car to leave her luggage in. All the signs were there; a little cutie with no particular plan, waiting for the next guy who would offer her a ride a little further on down the road to nowhere. Yeah, there was definitely potential there…

I sat down in an unoccupied booth nearby and an elderly waitress soon appeared. I subtly laid a crisp twenty on the table. “Just tipping in advance,” I said quietly with a smile “in case I’m a little high maintenance.” She grinned and Mister Jackson disappeared into her apron pocket with a practiced swipe of her hand as she waited for my order. “I’ll have the garden salad with ranch, no onions” I said, perusing the menu. “And I’m going to need the following: A cheeseburger with fries. The burger and fries on two separate plates, please. And I’ll need a chocolate shake with whipped cream — too much whipped cream — running down the sides of the glass too much. She gave me a cocked eyebrow in response, but the twenty in her pocket served to shut down any questions or protest. She disappeared with the ticket and I settled into the booth to keep an eye on my prize.

The waitress eventually returned, bearing my order on a tray. I took the salad while the plates with the burger, fries, and glass of overflowing shake were set on the opposite side of my table as I directed. Once everything was situated, I rose and approached the girl sitting at the counter. “Hi, excuse me, I don’t mean to bother you, but are you Lydia?” I inquired.

The girl turned to me and rolled her eyes. “Uh… no…” she replied with a pouty attitude. I loved it when they started with an attitude.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, my mistake” I apologized politely, turning away from her. I sighed and looked around the diner before taking out my phone. Without dialing anyone, I held the phone up to my ear. “Hi, Max? Angela. Look, Lydia is a no-show… Yeah, yeah, I know, but her loss, right?” Well, I don’t know… we’ll just need to find someone new… Max… Max! Relax. You always panic. You know this is what I do. Have I ever let you down? OK then. I’ll talk to you in a few days. OK… Bye.”

Out of the corner of my eye I saw the girl watching me. As I looked back towards her she turned away, feigning disinterest. I started to walk back to my booth, then stopped and took a few steps back to her. “Hey, I’m sorry to disturb you again. I’m not trying to be creepy or anything, but I was supposed to meet someone here and she bailed on me. I’ve already ordered for her. Burger, fries and a chocolate shake, if you want it. It’s just gonna get thrown out if no one takes it.”

She paused for a moment, considering the offer. “Naw, I’m good,” she replied, starting to turn back to her plate of toast.

I knew she would refuse. They always refused at first. It was some sort of pride thing they had to work past. “OK,” I smiled. “If you change your mind I’m right over there and you’re welcome to it,” I offered, pointing in the direction of my table. She looked in the direction I indicated. Good. There was the first tentative nibble of interest on the hook. I returned to my seat without a backward glance and began to tuck into my salad.

A couple of minutes later I sensed someone standing over my table. I looked up. Predictably, it was the petite blonde. “I guess if you’re just going to throw it out anyway…” she offered sullenly, as if doing me some sort of a favor.

“Oh, yes, please, help yourself,” I offered with a sweep of my hand. She looked at the tempting meal, split into two plates and the overflowing mess of the chocolate shake. Of course she just wanted to just grab it and hurry away. But experienced planning on my part made that difficult. I could see the mental wheels turning as she tried to figure out how to make off with the entire meal with the minimal amount of yucky social interaction.

I let her study on it for a moment. “Oh, I’m sorry, where are my manners?” I exclaimed. “Please, take a seat… I won’t bite, I promise.” I flashed a charming smile and I could see some of her instinctive reservations begin to crumble. She looked me over, seeing a young woman attired in a professional looking grey skirt and white blouse. Not exactly the menacing stalker type. Tentatively she sat down on the far end of the bench seat, as if scooting all the way in was somehow more of a commitment than she was willing to make. I scooped up my phone, pretending to answer an incoming call and absorbing myself in the caller. With my attention apparently distracted, the girl dared to ease her way further into the booth, daintily picking up a few fries and sampling her free meal.

I turned my attention to my imaginary phone conversation. “Teresa, darling, I’m so glad you called! Are you packed? No? Well you better start! Filming starts in Bermuda next Tuesday… That’s right! The network signed the contract this morning. I got you one full season — twenty two episodes — at one hundred thousand per episode, so two point two million… Teresa? Teresa, are you crying? You’re so cute! Well save your tears for when you write the check for my twenty percent agent fee… Ha! OK… OK then. I’ll call you tomorrow and we can go over the details. Great… I’ll talk to you then.”

I looked up and saw I had the girl’s undivided attention. She quickly looked down, focusing on her meal. “I’m sorry,” I apologized. “Things are always flying a mile a minute with me. I’m Angela — Angela Wentworth,” I offered, discretely pushing a business card across the table. It matched up with the magnetic sign on the door of my RV: “SILVER STARS TALENT AGENCY — Angela Wentworth, Owner — Talent Scout and Agent”. Old-style rolls of film and a camera on a tripod comprised the background image. Eight bucks for a box of five hundred cards and boom – instant credibility in whatever field of expertise you want to claim.

“You like work in the movies and stuff?” she inquired, her interest perking up as she read over the card. “That is so cool. I was…”

I interrupted her, holding up my hand as I snatched up my phone once more. “Max? Hi again… Max… MAX! Oh my god, take a breath! Now she did what? … No, of course she can’t… Well of course Bernie fired her! She signed a contract, didn’t she? She can’t just renegotiate for more money once she signs. Well, I don’t know what now. What does Bernie want? … What? A complete unknown? When? Is he serious? Max, come on, where are we going to get a complete unknown by the end of the week? I mean any girl trying to get into the film industry has got some sort of exposure — commercials, bit parts, a walk-on, something. I can’t just shake a complete unknown out of my sleeve like some sort of magician… OK, OK! Yes, Max, Jeez! I’ll check around and see what I can do.”

With a groan I put the phone down. The girl across the table looked up and gave me a shy smile. “Being in the movies would be like the coolest thing ever,” she offered in a barely audible tone.

I looked at her as if seeing her for the first time. “Look to your left,” I told her, studying her profile as she turned. “Now right,” I directed, allowing just a hint of enthusiasm to creep into my voice. “Hmmm… have you had any acting classes, theater in high school, anything like that?” She shook her head. “Well, no matter. You’ve got a fresh look that people might be interested in. Why don’t you give me your demo and I’ll fire it over to Bernie and see what he…”

“What’s a demo?” she interrupted.

“You know, a video showcasing your range of acting talent. What can you do, what would grab a director’s attention?” I explained nonchalantly.

A worried look crossed her face, derailing her budding excitement. “I don’t have one of those,” she confessed sadly.

I paused for a moment. “Hmmm… Well, I’ve got some video gear in my RV…” I said in a considering tone. “It’s not studio quality, but I don’t know… Maybe we could knock something together that might at least get your foot in the door. What sort of special talents have you got?”

She looked down at the table, morosely nudging her fries around on the plate with her fingertip. “I don’t think I have any,” she admitted.

“Oh, everyone has something. You just need to find that unique bit of crazy, anything to make yourself stand out from the rest of the crowd and make the director remember you. It’s just a matter of what you’re willing to do, and how far you’re willing to go.”

She chewed her lower lip, pondering. “I’m sorry,” she said with a whimper. “I just don’t know what I could do.”

I nodded, looking disappointed. “Well, that’s OK. The movie industry isn’t for everyone,” I agreed, finishing up my salad and laying out another twenty on the table to cover the bill. “Look, if you change you mind, I’ve got some work to do out in my RV. It’s that blue and white one way over there by the horse trailer. I’ll be in the lot for a little while. If you change your mind, come on out for a visit.”

I called my dad on the way out of the diner. “I found one. She’ll be out in a few minutes.”

Halfway across the lot I heard hurried footsteps racing to catch up with me. The girl from the diner fell in step with me, carrying her half-eaten burger in one hand and lugging her backpack in the other. We crossed the asphalt lot together in silence. I made it a point to pass by the truck and horse trailer on the way to the RV. “Another one of my clients,” I announced with a chuckle, patting the side of the trailer. From inside, a snort and whinny responded.

“You do horses?” the girl asked. Then she blushed bright red. “Ah, I mean, you know… you’re like an agent for a horse?”

I laughed. “Oh sure, I handle all sorts of talent. But it’s funny isn’t it, that a horse needs an agent? Well, his owner, actually, but yeah, that big black stallion is going to be famous. Barkley there has got a lead role in a new western. But that’s all I can tell you.”

We reached my RV. She studied the magnetic sign on the door, gaining reassurance from it that this all seemed legit. I opened the door for her and then followed her inside. She looked around, impressed at the luxurious interior. I motioned her towards the table and sat down across from her, flipping open my laptop. “I just need to get some basic information,” I explained, tapping randomly on the keys. “So what’s your name?”

“Stacy Anders… Smith,” she stammered. “Stacy Smith.”

I nodded, typing. “You’re smart to use a stage name,” I acknowledged. It helps when you start to get famous and everyone is trying to call you. She smiled, liking the sound of that. Now, you’re at least eighteen, right?”

“Uh… is that important?” Stacy inquired with a concerned look.

“Oh, it’s just that I don’t represent kids… company policy. It requires release forms from parents, and lots of legal issues for the studios. It’s just not worth it.”

“Umm, yeah, I’m eighteen,” Stacy asserted.

“Great,” I responded. I’ll just need to see a copy of your ID for the file.

Stacy blushed. “I… I ah, lost my license, like last week. I’ve been meaning to replace it, but I haven’t gotten around to it yet…”

I nodded, clicking on some more keys. “That’s OK,” I replied. You can get it to me when we eventually get you under contract. But I’ll just overlook it for now.”

Stacy breathed a sigh of relief. I quizzed her on some other pointless nonsense and then closed my laptop. Retrieving a video camera from a drawer, I set it on the table and looked at her expectantly. “OK Stacy, time to shine. Have you thought about what you want to do for your demo video?”

She took a deep breath and looked down at the floor, tracing the patterns on the carpet with the toe of her shoe. “I… ah… I was thinking maybe that, you know, if I could maybe meet the director, he and I could work something out?”

I gave her a condescending smile. “Now Stacy, you’re on the right track. Honestly, sex is absolutely what sells in Hollywood. But with what’s been in the news lately, with the lawsuits and everything… Well, trust me, you’re not going to get any alone time with any director who has half a lick of sense. Like I said, sex sells, but sleeping your way to the top just isn’t done these days.”

“Oh…” she replied in a crestfallen tone, feeling her one bit of marketable currency slip though her fingers. Then she looked up at me with hopeful eyes. “Maybe you could put in a good word for me? I really would do anything to get a chance.” She gave me a meaningful, sultry look. “Anything you want…”

I had to restrain a giggle of surprise. No one had ever attempted the lesbian seduction route with me before. Giving Stacy an appraising glance, I had to admit that the thought did have a certain appeal. She was trim and petite with a cute, eager face and an absolutely impressive set of tits. Her perfectly shaped ass strained in the confines of her impossibly tight jeans, and she had a degree of innocence about her that just begged to be plundered and despoiled. Putting her pretty face to work wriggling between my naked thighs was not a completely repulsive idea… Then I realized suddenly that a long silence had fallen over us as I considered the matter for far too long. I shook my head, trying to get my focus back on the main objective. “Ah… oh, Stacy, my, that certainly is a very — very — tempting offer. But I’m afraid it would be absolutely unprofessional of me. I just can’t get involved with my clients.”

Stacy nodded in understanding. But she seemed pleased with herself that I had obviously taken the offer under consideration. “I… I don’t really know then… I mean, could I maybe do a video where I take off my clothes or something? I can sort of dance… and you know, maybe do some other… stuff?”

“Ummm…” I pondered. “The problem is… honestly, videos of naked girls are all over the internet for free. You really got to do something special, Stacy, something funny, crazy, or amazing that will make you stand out. Or… If you know someone famous in Hollywood, maybe you could pose with them…”

Stacy sniffed, her eyes beginning to well up with tears of defeat. “The only famous person I know in Hollywood is your horse outside in the trailer…” Suddenly she perked up, putting the carefully staged puzzle pieces together. “Hey, do you think I could maybe… you know, like do something like pose with your horse? He’s going to be famous, right?”

A broad smile of approval crossed my face. “Now that’s an interesting idea…” I replied. “I mean, I can’t let you ride him, but I don’t know… maybe there are other things you could do to make it interesting?”

Excited, Stacy nodded eagerly. I could tell she had no plan whatsoever, but as the saying goes, she seemed ‘eager to learn’. I grabbed the camera and we left the RV. She skipped over to the back of the horse trailer, giddy with nervous energy. Unlatching the back of the trailer we stepped inside. The huge black stallion snorted as we entered his domain, stomping a front hoof aggressively as his muscular flanks rippled. His eyes widened as he reared his head, giving us an appraising look. “Barkley, shush…” I whispered, fishing out a few carrots I had stashed in my skirt pocket as we left the RV. His nostrils flared as he gave an interested sniff. Accepting my gift, he calmed down, happily munching on the orange treats.

Stacy looked around apprehensively and took a deep breath. I could see her nipples perked with anxious trepidation through her thin cut-off tee-shirt. “Don’t worry, the trailer windows are all tinted,” I explained. “We can see out, but no one can see in.”

She nodded and she seemed to relax just a bit. With a forced smile she turned to me. “So, should I take off my clothes or…?”

“Just do whatever comes to mind,” I suggested. “Be you. Be fun. I’ll film it all and then we’ll do the cuts and edits to keep the best parts. Maybe some theme music will help?” I fiddled with my phone, queuing up ‘Sweet Home Alabama’.

Stacy grinned with approval and started to swivel her hips. She closed her eyes and let the music take hold. I found myself holding my breath as I watched. The girl had a natural sense of movement that was nothing short of erotic. She ran her fingers through her blonde hair, turning slowly and grinding her ass in a fluid, seductive motion. She brought her hands down to caress the sides of her breasts and then trailed down over her taunt, exposed tummy. Then she threw her arms wide and went into a sinuous spin. I could see that with a bit of practice and training, the girl had ‘stripper potential’ written all over her future. She teasingly peeled off her shirt, revealing no bra and an amazingly firm set of perfectly rounded tits. I flashed her an exaggerated smile, gesturing towards my expression. She picked up on the clue, dropping the serious look on her face and replacing it with a cheerful grin. Her fingers dropped back to her breasts, finding her nipples and pinching the fleshy nubs into an even more rigid state of arousal. She looked deep into my eyes as she continued to dance. I’ve always considered myself to be a “straight” female, but as I watched her I felt my mouth water with a hint of forbidden desire.

She kicked off her well-worn pink and white tennis shoes and dropped her hands to her trim little waist. Not an ounce of fat hung over her tight fitting jeans. She gave the camera a saucy wink and blew a teasing kiss. Working the button loose she rolled her hips in a circular motion as she drew the zipper downward. Wriggling her hips from side to side she peeled the pants down off her hips, never losing time with the music. Finally she had the jeans removed, leaving her clothed in nothing but her white ankle socks and a tiny pair of lavender-colored panties. Hooking her thumbs into the waistband, she started to work the panties downward off her hips when I noticed the colorful image printed on the crotch — My Little Pony. “Stacy – leave them on!” I urged. “The cute pony logo is just perfect!” She looked down and grinned in agreement, happy to keep some small illusion of her dignity that the panties might provide. She continued to dance, turning away from me and tugging the thong of her panties up tight so that it disappeared into the firm crack of her ass. I focused the camera in close, imagining the incredibly sensitive flesh the g-string of her panties was grinding against as she continued to gyrate.

She turned back to me, hips continuously in motion. She closed her eyes, swaying with the music. My camera, still focused in close on her loins, revealed a darker spot on the cottony crotch of her panties. Slowly the stain grew in size, glistening with slippery wetness.

Barkley snorted and stomped a hoof, no longer content to be ignored. Stacy turned and sauntered over to the huge animal. He gazed at her with a wary look as she approached, her hips rolling like a belly dancer. But the huge black stallion held his ground as she drew near, bringing his head around so she could pet his powerful neck. His nostrils flared, picking up an interesting smell. I inhaled deeply also, picking up just a hint of the alluring scent that played across the stallion’s acute senses. Stacy turned towards me as she danced and I could see that the syrupy stain on her panty crotch was spreading relentlessly. The stallion had picked up on the irresistible odor of wet twat that wafted from Stacy’s wriggling loins. It held a universal appeal across the entire animal kingdom and it didn’t matter if the source was horse or human pussy. All the frisky black stallion knew was that he sensed a cunt in heat.

Oblivious to the effect she was causing, Stacy turned her attention back towards Barkley, running her teasing fingers over the stallion’s glossy black flanks and haunches. Powerful muscles shivered in response. His tail lashed with growing excitement. As I watched, the head of his enormous prick began to extend from the sheath below his belly. Inch after impressive inch of stallion cock eased out, a black fleshy shaft of imposing dimensions. His cock dangled below his belly, twelve inches of still-limp horse meat, two inches in diameter. I could see it throb and twitch as the stallion’s powerful heart pumped blood into the massive organ.

Stacy danced away from the animal and then turned to face him. I heard her gasp as she suddenly caught sight of Barkley’s ominous horse prick. Her motions ground to a halt and she stood transfixed by the sight, memorized like a fawn confronted by a python. As if in a dream, she took a tentative step towards the huge stallion, and then another. The swelling shaft now bobbed at about a forty-five degree angle, picking up elevation as it continued to stiffen. She turned to look at me for guidance, but I simply concentrated on the camera, letting her think this was all her idea. Gathering her nerve, she closed the distance and reached out with a tentative hand to stroke the animal’s glossy black flank. Her fingers worked their way back and forth through his shiny fur, seemingly at random but undeniably working their way lower and lower as she mustered her courage. Her fingers trailed downward, finding their way to the creature’s furry belly.

“Touch it,” I whispered, unable to resist the impulse to urge her along. She twitched in shock at the sound of my voice, shaken from her trance. Gulping an anxious swallow she nodded in unsure agreement. She dropped to her knees at Barkley’s side. Her hand trembled with a frantic nervousness as she reached out. Her fingers closed the distance but then she paused. Flexing her hand open and closed, she fought to overcome her fear and moral reservations. Then, with a deep inhale of breath, she dared to let her fingers make contact with the stallion’s long dangling cock shaft. She brushed him lightly with her fingertips and the cock responded with a twitch. Growing bolder, Stacy gently let her fingers curl around the girth of the fleshy piston, cautiously stroking up and down the impressive length.

Barkley snorted and his shaft responded to the intimate caress. It throbbed and gained a degree of stiffness, beginning to slowly leverage its ponderous weight into a more upright position. I moved in closer with the camera, making it clear to Stacy that her interaction with the massive horse cock was now the entire focus of the video. She sat down on her heels, scooting her way down under the stallion’s belly. Barkley’s erection swelled to a firmer state, forcing Stacy to add her other hand to the effort of maintaining a grip around the shaft. Her dainty fingers of both hands could barely close around the girth of the now fully erect cock. It bobbed in her hands with each pulse of his heart, angling higher and higher until sixteen inches of erect stallion prick pressed up tight against his glossy belly. The huge shaft quivered, pointed directly at Stacy’s pretty face.

Suddenly she shook her head, tears of dismay forming in her eyes. I knew the look. Doing a sexy little dance was once thing, but now — staring down the length of a throbbing horse cock — she was having a moral crisis. I felt a surge of concern of my own. The race horse was in an obvious state of arousal. If Stacy didn’t give him some relief the beast would pitch a fit. I didn’t relish the thought of trying to transport an enraged stallion several hundred more miles with a pounding case of blue balls. I reached into my proverbial bag of tricks and pulled out the ‘super-model pep-talk’.

“Perfect!” I cheered. “Oh my god, you’ve never done any acting? You’re amazing! A natural! They’re going to love you in Hollywood!” I layered on the encouragement, thick and heavy. She looked up at me, that shy smile starting to reappear on her lips. I moved around with the camera, working her from all the angles. “Yes! Come on girl, make me believe it! Play the part! Show the camera what a nasty little cunt you are! Are you hot? You know you are! Is your tight little pussy dripping wet? I bet it is! You want it, Baby! Make the audience believe it! Show me how much you want to kiss that cock!”

She took a deep breath as I pumped up her ego. I could see her working through the rationalization in her mind. She was going to be a star! This was all just pretend — playing a role… It’s not like she was really a filthy little whore, about to plant her sweet lips on a horse cock… It was… acting!

The little blonde straightened her slumping shoulders and proudly arched her back. Good posture is a must! She pushed a stray lock of dangling hair out of her eyes, determined to look her very best. A fresh look of determination flashed in her eyes. Pushing aside any lingering reservations, my budding starlet licked her lips, giving them a glistening wet sheen. A drop of pre-cum oozed from the tip of Barkley’s cock. Stacy stroked her grasping fingers back along the length of his shaft until she ran up against his huge ball sack. Then she tightened her grip, slowly drawing along the full length of the black stallion’s cock. Her action milked a huge glob of slippery pre-cum from the tip of prick. It oozed downward, suspended on a shimmering, slimy string before it broke and dropped, disappearing into the cleft of her firm, ample cleavage. She glanced down and I followed with the camera, focusing in on her wonderful heaving knockers. I panned up, capturing her expression. She blushed shyly and batted her pretty eye lashes.

I moved back out, capturing her face and the full length of Barkley’s cock in the camera frame. She leaned in, closing her eyes as if that would somehow provide some detachment from her perverse actions. Tentatively she let her lips just brush the tip of cock before she recoiled like a frightened kitten. Her tongue washed over her soft lips, tasting the hint of salty flavor she discovered there. I saw chest expand as she took in a deep breath. Her nipples seemed to perk into a more rigid state of arousal and tiny goose bumps arose on the creamy skin of her fleshy globes. Then she leaned in again and ever so gently she pressed her lips more diligently against the tip of Barkley’s quivering cock knob. Her lips parted ever so slightly, allowing the tip of her tongue to slip out and give an experimental lick. I saw her nearly naked body shudder at the taste. Was it revulsion or delight? Her lips opened further, putting the question to rest as she nuzzled the tip of his cock in an open-mouthed embrace. Her tongue washed around the crown of his prick and then returned to the very tip, teasing into the open slit of his cock shaft with a playful flickering motion. More syrupy fluid oozed from the tip, spilling onto her eager tongue and coating her lips. Bluish veins along Barkley’s cock pulsed and throbbed, hinting at the pent up reserves of energy of the huge beast.

Barkley suddenly responded with an experimental thrust of his haunches. It was a minor movement, but driven by powerful equine muscles. Unable to react in time, Stacy’s sweet little mouth simply absorbed the impact. With that single lunge the stallion’s cock was driven forward. The crown of his spongy cock-head compressed as Stacy’s unprepared mouth was flared open by the pressure. With a wet pop the stallion’s cock head pressed past her lips and lodged firmly in her mouth. Stacy’s eyes went wide in shock as she tried to recoil away from the unexpected oral insertion. But the massive head of Barkley’s cock flared within the girl’s mouth, locking firmly in place behind her front teeth. In a panic, she grasped the stallion’s cock shaft with both hands, gripping tight and attempting to pull him out. All she succeeded in doing was to stroke her hands along the length of his massive dick, transmitting shuddering vibrations of pleasure into his quivering sexual organ. He swelled to an even greater degree of stiffness in response. Stacy fought to pull her head away, neck muscles straining with the effort. But her effort proved to be in vain. She had just learned the irrefutable truth about kissing a horse cock — once the knob pops into a girl’s mouth, there is no going back. “Mmmff mum mfff um mf!” she protested, her eyes betraying her sense of fear. I couldn’t quite make out what she was saying. I chose to believe that it was some sort of enthusiastic compliment about the savory taste of fresh horse flesh.

Barkley meanwhile was reaching an interesting conclusion of his own. The squeezing of lips and fingers around his trembling cock shaft was certainly a pleasurable sensation. The huge black stallion didn’t have any experience with human girls, but it was starting to dawn on him that this girl’s mouth felt a whole lot like the velvety embrace of a warm and slippery mare’s cunt. He wasn’t sure if a girl’s mouth could be used like a twat, but with another experimental thrust of his haunches he decided to give it a try. Several inches of equine cock shaft slid through the futile resistance of Stacy’s grasping fingers and into her oval-shaped lips. Her eyes went wide as the stallion’s huge cock shaft eased deep into her mouth, butting up against the restrictive opening of her throat. Her lips strained, unwillingly squeezing him in an erotic oral embrace. Her tongue fluttered instinctively along the bottom of his prick, enhancing the enticing sensation. “Eaz! Ep! Sss oo eg!!!” Stacy sputtered incoherently against the overwhelming mouthful, tears shimmering in her eyes. I moved in closer with the camera, figuring that’s what she was trying to request.

Barkley snorted with delight and stomped a front hoof. The verdict was in as far as he was concerned. Stacy’s pretty mouth had all the desirable hallmarks of a snug little fuckable cunt. He shuffled his back hooves, widening his stance for better balance. His muscular flanks rippling, he rolled his haunches. The cock shaft slipped back out through Stacy’s lips and fingers until the big cock knob once more butted up against the back of her teeth, unable to withdraw any further. Stacy issued a muffled mewl of protest, knowing what was coming. She tried to pull back from the powerful lunge but could not avoid the inevitable facial fuck-thrust. The stallion plowed forward, once more sinking several inches of thick horse cock into Stacy’s gaping oral orifice. The huge cock knob again bottomed out as it pressed against the opening of her throat. The girl’s fearful squeal of dismay was all but muted by her mouthful of horse dick. Despite Stacy’s natural revulsion, her fingers instinctively clasped down in a firm, loving embrace on the exposed length of Barkley’s cock. She stroked the full length of his shaft, dragging her fingers from her lips back to his swinging, bloated balls, and then back again, milking the huge horse prick. I saw her throat working as she swallowed and presumed that she had just coaxed another savory discharge of gooey pre-cum onto her taste buds. She stroked him again, more enthusiastically.

 

Continued on the next page (link below).

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