Triptych, An Erotic Adventure

by Krissy Kneen

  ‘You’d never let them mount you,’ she said, reaching up with barely a pause to touch the stallion’s thick penis, gauging it with a pursing of her lips. ‘You’d be able to suck it, I suppose, but you’d have to be careful not to get kicked in the head. Sometimes we lose control in our pleasure. He’d never mean to kick you, of course, but perhaps he couldn’t control himself.’

  It was shocking (of course it was) to watch her friend stroking the horse’s penis, thick as her forearm, delicately furred, and yet Leda found that she was also aroused by the easy gesture of Rachel’s hand. She watched the horse respond to the stimulation, easing forward and back in his stall, his powerful neck lifting and falling, the little snuffling sounds from his nose. The horse’s penis emerged from its sheath just like a dog’s, only so much larger. Leda stared in fascination as her friend continued to masturbate the animal.

  ‘We are all animals,’ Rachel was saying, her voice a soothing sing-song, calming the beast. ‘We are all so ready to find pleasure. I touch and the animal responds. It is that simple. If we all knew it like these horses know it, there would be no more wars. Don’t you think?’

  ‘I don’t think Richard gets up on a stepladder,’ Leda said.

  ‘I don’t think mounting a horse is how you get consent.’

  ‘Do you think he lets the horse mount him?’

  Leda stared at the penis in Rachel’s hand, the cock itself was bigger than Paul’s cock, and even that felt so large that sometimes it was difficult to disengage from the thick knot that formed at the end of it. Perhaps a horse did not have the same thick ring of gristle to contend with, but the thought of something that large entering her made her shudder.

  ‘You’re right, though. Sultan is just too big. Look at the size of that.’

  Leda was already looking.

  ‘He’s really excited now, isn’t he? Should I stop? Do you think I should stop?’

  ‘I’m not sure it would be fair. Now you have got him excited. Maybe you should just take the time to finish him.’

  ‘And now I have got you all hot and bothered watching it…’

  Leda felt the blush rising in her cheeks. It was true, she was excited. She was wearing a thin cotton frock and beneath this the crotch of her underwear was already dripping with the juices that had collected there.

  ‘It’s okay.’ Rachel turned back to the job at hand. ‘I’m pretty turned on too, just watching him. We are all just animals, aren’t we? No matter how hard we pretend we have risen above that, we all just want to mount and be mounted like a horse.’ She touched the black snake of a penis, pulled at the thick muscle of the furred sheath. ‘We’ll watch him come and then if you want I’ll watch you do it to the pony. You won’t be shocked if I touch myself while you do it, will you? You won’t be horrified?’

  This was all the encouragement Leda needed. She reached up under her thin skirt. She pulled off the soaking knickers, rolled them into a ball and set them down on a bale of hay. She watched, fascinated, as her friend slowly rubbed the horse’s cock, watched the penis slip out like a lipstick, rest for a moment on her wrist then retract, the hypnotic rhythm of it, and then the quick glance and grin before Rachel dipped her head and took the thick, dark, flesh into her mouth. Stretching her lips wide, running her tongue along the base of it.

  The horse reared up and Leda gasped, imagining that he would kick Rachel, hurt her, trample her into the straw, but instead her friend stepped back, grinning, her mouth slick with spit and perhaps the juices from the beast itself. A beautiful abandon as she tossed her hair back from her face, almost like a mane, and then the horse was whinnying and a gush of fluid was shooting out from the penis, spraying onto her neck and the pale fabric of her dress. The clothing clung to her breasts, heavy breasts, the nipples clearly erect, and covered by the thick semen that had landed there.

  ‘Such a rush,’ Rachel laughed. ‘Giving something so beautiful so much pleasure. You should try it. You have to try it. You said you would.’

  Leda walked as if in a trance. She was filled up with the heady drug of lust. It was a familiar feeling and now with her friend settling back on a hay bale, pulling up her skirt, spreading her legs wide and displaying the bright pink moisture of a lust that could easily rival her own, Leda felt her legs trembling.

  The pony’s head barely came up to her chest. He was a little taller than a German shepherd but when she reached underneath, between his legs, she noticed he was just as quick to respond. Forced to bend at the waist to reach him, she felt her juices dripping down her inner thigh. She realised Rachel would be able to see this too. It barely mattered now. Rachel had already begun to work on herself, parting the little inner lips with two fingers. Leda looked over her shoulder to see her friend’s fingers sliding inside up to the knuckles and emerging again, glistening with a slick coating of the girl’s own wetness.

  Leda was emboldened by this sight to pull her own skirt up, revealing the pale peach of her bottom, her juices making a slippery line from the cleft between her cheeks to well below her knee. She heard the other girl groan and was reminded of the urgent growling that Paul made when he was overcome by his desire for her. She heard, closer to her, the comforting snuffling of the pony as it began to hop, lifting its front hooves on the spot.

  Leda had settled into a trance of lascivious pleasure, feeling the slippery penis creep forward and backward in her hand, when the pony twisted and leaped onto her back. A shock at first, but no more shocking than that time on the beach and, like that first time, her body seemed uncontrollably greedy, her hips tilting to allow for the connection that would ultimately be made.

  This time someone was watching, and so there was an element of bravado in the way she leaned forward so far that her hands were resting on the hay. Her legs were straight, knees locked tight, and she realised immediately that this was the perfect angle. The horse stood over her. The blood rushed into her head in a pleasant, dizzying sensation and with a quick jerk of his hips, the pony’s penis slid into the juicy slit of her vagina.

  She felt the sudden parting of the lips between her legs. She heard the soft groan of her companion, she glanced over to where Rachel had most of her hand buried in her own body, her legs stretched as wide as she was able, the palm of her other hand pressing rhythmically against her clitoris. Her gaze was fixed on the sight before her, the pony mounting Leda, the furred hips thrusting powerfully onto the slim pelvis of the girl.

  Leda knew that if she touched her own clitoris she would not last. She was filled so completely by the pony that it felt as if she could barely take a centimetre more. The horse shoved into her faster, the hooves thudded down on either side of her head. She balanced on one hand and lifted the other to touch the seat of her excitement. She was going to come. She wanted to hold off till the pony joined her but she couldn’t, not for a second longer. She felt the spasms coming. She felt her shoulders tense, her thighs tighten.

  She knew the horse would feel its cock squeezed in the rhythm of her climax, and, as if her body had sucked the juices from him, she felt the gush of sperm so copious and slippery that she fell forward as the animal thrust into her a second time. She collapsed into the hay and felt the last of his semen squirt in a thick heavy torrent onto her naked buttocks, then rolled away as quickly as she was able, frightened of the hooves tramping so close to her head.

  She lay on her side in the last shudders of her ecstasy and saw her friend’s hand disappear inside herself. All she could see was the slippery lips wetly sucking at her wrist. Rachel’s eyes widened, her mouth dropped open and Leda watched as her hips kicked forward. Rachel lay on her back in the hay with her arm completely swallowed and her body dancing like a netted fish. The hand slipped from her body easily, coated in a thick viscous dew, as she rolled onto her side and clutched at her breast, her own juices mingling with the drying seed of the Arabian. Her eyes met Leda’s, and an odd smile passed between them.

  ‘I love you,’ Rachel formed the words soundlessly, her
full lips swollen from biting down, her eyes darting between Leda and the pony, whose phallus still dripped with the last of his semen, and Leda was not sure if her friend’s love was meant for her or for the horse alone. Or, perhaps, for some hybrid combination of the two.

  They lay with each other and it was nice, nicer still when they began to retell the story of the night behind them.

  ‘His cock seemed so huge against your skin, the way it arched up into the air, pushing, searching, looking for the hole, and then when it entered you I couldn’t believe you could take it. I saw your cunt open up,’ and Rachel put two of her fingers inside her friend, ‘like this. Does it feel smaller or bigger than the horse’s cock?’

  ‘Smaller.’

  ‘How about this?’

  ‘Smaller.’

  ‘Well this?’

  ‘Yeah, that’s bigger now.’

  ‘God, Leda it is so slippery. I’ll bet it tastes like horse in there. Shall I try? Cos I tasted it, you know? The horse’s pre-come dripped down my throat. I should have held on. I should have felt how it came, a gush of sperm into my mouth. Can I taste it on you?’

  ‘Sure. And you know what, Rachel? If you really want to taste it we can go back to the barn tomorrow.’

  ‘Tomorrow,’ Rachel said. ‘Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow.’

  Leda felt her friend’s tongue explore the slick recesses of her body. She felt Rachel’s fingers bunched up and pushing into her. Leda couldn’t take the whole hand. She was surprised how Rachel managed to fit her hand inside her own vagina at all.

  ‘You’re not a virgin.’

  ‘God no.’ Rachel picked a pubic hair from her lip.

  ‘I am,’ said Leda. ‘Well, with boys. Have you…you know, slept with a horse?’

  Rachel grinned and slid up the bed, resting her tangled hair on the pillow beside Leda. She snuggled closer, kissed Leda on the lips and when their tongues exchanged saliva Leda could taste her own juices in her friend’s mouth, and a different flavour, something wild and musky that must have been the taste of the horse.

  ‘I started with the kelpie,’ said Rachel.

  ‘I started with my German shepherd.’

  ‘You should have told me. I would have come for sleepovers. Wait, I’m going to let Samson in. I can hear him scratching at the door.’

  Leda held the covers up to her chest. Her friend ran naked from the room, bounding back with the muscular body of the kelpie leaping up beside her, the bright red penis of the dog already stiff and ready for the game. Leda watched as Rachel knelt down, just as Leda so often did. She smiled at the sheer exuberance of the puppy as it flung itself grinning onto the girl’s back, licking her neck until Rachel giggled uncontrollably. She glanced up at Leda, draped across the bed, clutching her fist between her naked thighs, aroused again so soon.

  ‘Don’t waste your efforts, Leda. Samson will be ready for you soon enough. He comes, and rests for about five minutes, then he wants to come again. I have to lock him outside when I’ve had enough or he would keep me up all night.’

  Leda watched her friend rubbing herself, pushed forward onto her elbow, the furious slapping of the muscular grey thighs against the girl’s. From this angle Leda could not see the act, the point of entry, and she shifted onto the ground, close up, staring up at the coupling. Trying not to stroke herself too vigorously, wanting to save her climax for this new sensation.

  She watched the dog approach its moment, the shifting of its rhythm, the little grunting noises it made deep in its throat. She could see the point of entry and she shuffled closer, craning her neck towards it, setting her tongue against the girl’s clitoris. Licking as Paul would lick her, remembering all the times the animal had pleasured her in this way.

  One final thrust and the kelpie was done. From this angle Leda could watch Samson hop off Rachel’s back, the tug of the penis momentarily stuck. She knew how this would feel, that thick knot of gristle tugging against the sensitive place inside.

  She sucked the little protrusion of her friend’s flesh into her mouth, watched the hound finally pull free, the little drops of white fluid spilling out across Rachel’s red raw flesh. She saw the spasms begin and touched the slick vagina with one finger, slipped it inside. The clenching of flesh.

  This is how it would feel for Paul, this is how it would have been for the horse. The idea of the horse mounting her, the feel of its juices flooding her so completely almost sent her over. Leda withdrew from underneath her friend, crawled backwards into the excited sniffing of the dog.

  ‘Are you ready for him?’ Rachel asked, lying on her side, heavy lidded, grinning.

  Leda nodded as she felt the light weight of the dog clambering on top of her, the smallness of this cock inside her almost a relief after what she had taken in the barn.

  ‘I’m glad you have Paul. I can’t wait to share him.’ Rachel stroked Leda’s hair idly, watching the dog thrust, her desire now sated. And Leda felt the sting of her words and hissed just a little.

  ‘Is Samson hurting you?’

  Leda shook her head.

  ‘Because your Paul would be much bigger, I suppose. Not as big as the pony, but big enough. We’ll have to have a sleepover as soon as we get back.’

  Leda closed her eyes and tried to ignore the irritation she felt at Rachel’s words. Paul was her companion, her lover, her special one. Paul was for her and the idea of sharing him with Rachel felt like a slap on the cheek.

  ‘It was so good watching you with that horse, you know,’ Rachel said, lifting her fingers to touch Leda between the legs, wrapping her fist around the dog’s shaft, groaning softly as her desire rekindled.

  Leda closed her eyes and concentrated on the sensation of the stiff little penis inside her. The thought of the dog mounting her so soon after the entry of the pony was what sent her over. She relaxed down onto the floor, waiting while the animal completed his task, The gorgeous tug of the knot pulling out of her, the heady post-coital scent wafting up from between her legs.

  Orgasm had erased the jealousy for a moment but after the wave of bliss she felt the slow creep of poison in her blood. Her Paul. Startling how strong the rush of anger, how quickly something like this could spoil a friendship.

  She would stay, of course. She owed Rachel, and they would enjoy the stable for tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow. But Rachel would not have her Paul. She had other plans for their return home.

  ‘I can pay you. Not much but a little bit.’

  Leda’s neighbour was a stocky old man with swollen ankles. She had often seen him sitting on the back porch flicking through the newspaper or listening to the tinny trill of a transistor radio, resting his feet on a pillow, elevated on a chair. He bent stiffly from the waist and picked up the stick that his border collie dropped, flung it awkwardly over the rail. The puppy chased the stick, brought it back, dropped it. Sometimes she watched this fetch and chase for hours, wondering who would tire first.

  ‘Good dog,’ the man would say and rub his companion between his ears. At the end of an afternoon the dog would stand and the man would heft himself up on his sore feet using the dog’s sturdy back for leverage. ‘Good dog,’ and together they would shuffle back into his falling-down beach shack.

  ‘No, I don’t want any money for it,’ Leda said. ‘My friend and I will be walking Paul down on the beach and we thought it would be fun for your dog…?’

  ‘Racer.’

  ‘Racer. Well we thought that Racer—’

  ‘Speed Racer.’ The old man interrupted her. ‘Like the cartoon.’

  Leda shrugged, ‘Okay. But Rachel and I…?’

  ‘I could pay you five dollars maybe?’

  ‘Mr Simmons, it would be our pleasure.’

  ‘You are a good girl, Leda. Your name, you know, there was a little girl in mythology with a name like yours.’

  ‘Yeah. I’ve been told.’

  He winked and grinned and shifted on his sore feet. ‘Thought you might be a bit young for that kind of
story.’

  ‘Never too young for stories, Mr Simmons.’ Leda bent down to kneel beside the border collie. She ruffled the fur on either side of his head. ‘Want to go for a walk, big fella? Want to come with us, hey?’

  ‘Careful,’ said her neighbour. ‘He won’t want to come home to the old man at all if you treat him so nice. Stay with the pretty young girls, eh?’

  And Racer barked, as if in agreement. Leda felt her cheeks redden. She supposed the old man was flirting with her and wondered why it had not occurred to her that old men would flirt at all.

  It was their final year of school. Rachel met Leda by the hidden track to their private beach. They never saw another soul in all their afternoons together. As winter came in they crept into the caves at the far end of the beach, sheltering from rain and the scouring winds that whipped the sand up around their hips and made the animals jumpy, keen to run and bark and nip, exciting them. In the warm womb of the caves they felt protected. Sometimes they brought their homework with them and lay naked together, comparing answers, the furry warmth of a hound on each side.

  ‘What are you going to do when you finish?’ Rachel asked Leda, turning lazily towards her, her breasts lolling close to Leda’s hand.

  They often lay together, touching each other, kissing, entering each other’s bodies with their fingers, prying open secret places, sniffing all the scents that were hidden there. They had learned this game from their animals and they knew how quickly the scent from their own hidden crevices could excite them.

  ‘I don’t know. My parents want me to do law, but I think I would like to work with animals.’

  Rachel giggled, pushed her crotch onto Leda’s fingers, wriggled till she felt them part the folds of her flesh. She was almost ready to have sex again. The dogs could smell it; Paul became restless, snuffling at the small of Leda’s back.