Page 44 of Gay Sex Club Collection

He nodded his head up and down, whinnying in response.

Then the other door opened, and in walked a straight-backed woman wearing jodhpurs, a dressage jacket, and riding boots. She was stoic, with her nose raised, her hair in a tight bun. She looked expensive.

As did the horse she led in.

And if the other guy was a pony, this man was a stallion.

A man with expensive black leather horse-hoof mitts on his hands. His horse mask was also black with a long mane, and his long shiny tail was part of an intricate leather harness. He wore leather pants clipped with saddle buckles, and his long, thick cock hung heavy.

He was glorious.

He trotted into the stable like the king he was, his head high, his tail swishing. He sniffed the pony, keeping his head high and stomping his hooves, asserting his dominance and his anticipation for what was about to take place.

The smaller pony shied away and neighed. His handler controlled him with the bridle, soothing him with long strokes down his shoulder, just like you would a horse. “Shh, boy. Nice and easy.”

The stallion charged at him this time, and the pony shied, struggling against his reins and whinnying loudly.

“Control your pony,” the other woman barked.

“He’s nervous, is all,” the country woman replied.

The stoic woman eyed the pony. “He’s small.”

“Oh, he’s a mighty fine pony,” the farmer said. “Perfect breeding stock.”

The stallion nosed closer to the pony, braying loudly, and the pony shied away again, neighing.

“If he’s skittish, he goes in the crush. No ifs, ands, or buts. I won’t have my prized stallion injured.”

The farmer nodded. “Yes, ma’am.” Then she led the pony around the room, circling him back to walk into the crush. He shied and bucked a little, but she pulled him through and closed the crush gate behind him. Before she could tie off his reins, he banged his side into the frame of the crush.

The stoic woman pointed her riding crop at his hind legs. “Hobble him.”

“Yes, ma’am,” she replied, quickly clipping the cuffs on his hoof mitts to the padded frame so he couldn’t move, then fixed a thigh spreader to his hind legs, effectively ensuring he couldn’t move.

She then tied his reins to the top of the crush, keeping his head secure.

“Hm,” the stoic woman said. “He presents well.”

“He’s a very fine pony, ma’am.”

“My stallion seems to agree,” she said, giving the stallion enough reins to sniff the pony and nudge at his ass. “Fix his tail,” she ordered.

The farmer woman slowly pulled out the tail, the large butt plug leaving a gaping hole. She poured lube down his crack and over his hole, and the stallion began to nod his head and snort.

He was eager and kept trying to mount the pony, his huge cock swinging between his legs, and the woman lightly tapped her riding crop to his buttock. “Steady on,” she demanded.

She paraded him around the breeding station, bringing him up to the rear. She pulled the reins over the crush and he reared up on hind legs, his front hooves on the pony’s back, and he inched forward.

The pony brayed and the stallion nipped at his back and he inched forward again. The woman guided her stallion’s cockhead into the pony’s ass, then taking his reins, she pulled him forward.

All the way.

Jesus.

The pony brayed and whinnied, trembling all over, and the stallion bit the back of the pony’s neck, snorting loudly, asserting his dominance. Once the pony stopped struggling, the stallion fucked him hard.

The pony moaned woefully, and the stallion snorted and neighed, rearing up with his hooves on the pony’s back as he bred him, his horse cock buried deep.

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