He gave a low, maniacal chuckle, letting the spit string droop till it snapped and clung to his chin.
I whimpered pleadingly, pushing my dick back at his face.
“I got a taste of your own medicine,” he whispered, refusing it, collecting the spit with his finger and wiping it clean on his tongue. I bared my teeth at him, hating him and loving him at he same time. I shoved him back against the bed, my frustrated boner waggling in the breeze.
With a surrendering sigh, I tucked it back into my jeans, and told him the plan with Lucy.
He just shrugged, indifferent. “Okay,” was all he said.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Crossing the paddocks and fences, we finally reached the stables. It was a big, wooden building with huge double doors. The floor was strawed, and had a particularly farmy smell about it, but not unpleasant to my nose. A chain of chest-high stalls extended right down the inside wall. Most were empty, but there was about half a dozen horse heads peeking over the fencing. We found Lucy by one of them, caressing a large, black stallion.
Hearing the sound of our steps, she turned to us with a smile already set. The early 30s woman wore her curly blonde hair down, greeting the tops of her exceptional breasts — the infamous pair tucked inside a stringed tank top. Like most of the horsey girls this side of town, Lucy rocked her usual tight-fitting pair of jeans with high cowgirl boots that must have made for more than just walkin’.
I couldn’t count the number of times I had knocked one out over Lucy.
“Hey boys,” he said, giving us a big ol’ welcoming grin like only a farm lass could. “This is Dingo.”
She only just came up to the top of the horse’s back, stroking his face with a loving look.
“Come say hi.”
We approached cautiously, hoping not to scare it, and hoping it wouldn’t scare us. We reached out together, touching the big guy’s nose with delicate hands.
“Would ya look at that,” Lucy cooed. “Meant to be friends.” She walked over to the empty stall adjacent, swinging open the gate with the flair of an actress.
“And in here is where you’ll be trapped for the next hour.” She winked at me; I could feel my face redden slightly. “I’ve left a couple forks in there for you. Jake’s just bringin’ in a couple bales that just need breaking up, and if you could fork some over the fence into Dino’s pen, well that’d just be lovely.”
We could hear a vehicle of some kind approaching the double doors, and Lucy immediately began making her way over.
“That’ll be him now.”
Tugging one of the doors over the hay, a hatchback-length farm buggy began reversing in, a half dozen small haybales on the back tray. Lucy gave him the signal to stop, and off switched the engine. A handsome, stubbled man of Lucy’s age eased his way off the driver’s seat and onto one leg.
“Hi, boys,” he nodded at us, oozing macho charm that I could only dream of emulating. As expected, he was donned in plaid and denim, but only one shoe. He hopped his way around to extract a couple of crutches that had been tucked in beside the bales.
“Hey,” Alex and I said together.
I took the lead. “What happened to you?”
“Old girl Betsie threw me,” he said, nodding in the direction of the paddocks. “Then stomped on me.”
We must’ve had a look of shock on our faces, because he laughed right at us. “Ah, it wasn’t her fault. Bloody tractor backfired. Didn’t even know she stood on me.”
I grimaced, trying to picture it.
“Anyway, we’ll leave you boys to it,” he said, handing a couple of dark-glassed crate bottles to Lucy, who walked over to put them by the stall. “That’s eight percent of pure appreciation.” He winked, just as Lucy had done, and I had wondered who had copied whom. “Be careful of those ones — they’re elephant beers. Drink ’em slow, m’kay?”
We nodded our thanks, and Lucy shut the door behind them as they left.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The half hour passed quickly. The forking was hard work, but the beer was harder. I was still too new to beer to enjoy it as a beverage, and with the bitter taste it didn’t seem like that much of a reward. But by half a bottle down I could certainly feel it. It was apparent Alex could too. We had both worked up a sweat in the humid barn, and I had pulled off my shirt for the final bale. He was sitting back in a corner pile of hay, watching me with a smile.
“You should be a farmer,” he said, taking a swig from his bottle. “Topless forking suits you.”
“Trust you to be into a bit of topless forking,” I replied, working my back with the next lift. “How come you get to sit down?”
“Because I’m finished.” The last word came out with a bit of a slur.
“Oh are you now?”
“Mmhmm.”
“Well I’m not finished, which means you’re not finished.” I kept forking. Dingo had his head over the stall fence, eyeing us curiously.
“We could finish together,” Alex said, then gave a little giggle at his own joke. I shot him an amused eyebrow, watching him as he found a slight struggle in rocking forward onto his feet. He came up to Dingo, stroking his cheek and giving him a sniff of his beer. Dingo flared his lips, trying to grip at the opening for a taste.
“Nuh uh, not for you big boy,” said Alex, putting his face right up to the animal, and making noises at it like he was squeezing a baby’s cheeks.
“You love it, huh? You want a taste of my beer?” he licked around the rim sensually, tilting the bottle up for another gulp. I rested on my fork, unable to shovel any more due to the two party animals in my way.
Suddenly Alex gave a hoot of laughter, scaring the horse to the other side of its stable.
“Hey Chris, check this out.”
I leaned my fork in the corner and walked over beside Alex. It was quite obvious at that point that Alex was staring at its dick. The horse had produced a sizeable erection, and actually impressed me more than anything else. The pied shaft drooped down at 45 degree angle, and if it began at my elbow, it would probably go past the tips of my fingers.
“Damn,” I said aloud. “That’s a biiiig dick.”
We stood there for a minute, just watching it. We timed an appreciative swig together.
“Makes me kind of horny,” said Alex. “Kind of want to suck it.”
I shot him an incredulous look. “Dude, it’s a horse…”
“Only a little!” he defended. “Besides, what’s so wrong about sucking horse dick? Horses need loving too…”
“Well for starters, they’re probably crawling with diseases. Anyway, how do you know the horse wants to have its dick sucked?”
“Why do you think it got a boner?”
I didn’t have a reply for his sassy, drunk logic, and we both looked back at the horse dick for a moment.
“Dingo ding dong,” I mused, appreciating my own wit. I went for another swig, almost spitting it out as I felt a hand rubbing me through my pants. By the time I had lowered the bottle my dick was already hard, my breath already shaking.
“We can’t do this here,” I said quietly. “What if they come back?”
Ignoring my words, he moved around behind me, unbuckling my belt. His breath was hot and distracting on my neck, and I didn’t stop him.