The delivery horse did not so much walk as waddle, gingerly making sure the door was closed behind him and taking his packages back toward the sidewalk. His pants were obnoxiously tight fitting now, never enough to be painful but clearly keeping everything as restricted as a bit of tame bondage gear might. The cockshaft tucked between his thighs and his balls squished together against his buttcheeks, every step was a sliding movement in some manner. 

And whenever he wasn’t walking, the two deer bundled up inside would fill in for him.

Orgasmic squirms made all the more heavenly by the way those two rubbed into each other, one having been squeezed in headfirst and the other having gone in hoof-first. And by that same token it was made all the more distracting, by how they were both still in the shaft. 

If they could be persuaded to ease further down into the balls then it would be far less stimulating as they’d have more room to maneuver and the skin inside was much less sensitive than a urethral tube. More room so that they were less restrained, experience something other than what could be considered comparable to a vacbed. 

And for the horse’s relief, they’d stop blocking his ejaculation with their very presence. Ramming people down his shaft was something he didn’t especially mind, but having a soft warm cork that wiggles around and has sex with another cork? Just the thought of them trapped inside was enough to bring this man close to the edge. 

Thus he waddles. 

Horselike face contorting into various degrees of pleasure while a bright pink blush is squarely visible across his cheeks. His pants show only a detectable bulge, enough that people can easily tell he’s a horse and then dismiss his loin’s size as merely that. Natural for a horse to be hung so long. 

The gasping breath, the way his hands shake, occasionally leaning his head back and allowing his tongue to drag out? Those were harder to ignore.

His pace slow even when his movements were hurried, the waddle did not lend well into approaching the next stop in time. A quaint little building in the suburban area, a trimmed yard surrounded by a white picket fence. The mailman puts on his best steely eyed face and mentally prepares fo-

“Ggnrng!” one of the two, probably the buck, twisted his head in such a way that the antlers slide in a neat little circle. The pointed tips teasing against the base of his shaft and making the entire mass buckle and twitch, desperately struggling to explode out of these pants and find something to unload into. The voice this horse made was far less than dignified, and his blush grew from embarrassment once the home owner opened up. 

“Yeesssss?” The one who answered was an exceptional oddity if one judged exclusively in stereotypes, a cow girl with a slim waist and petite figure. Coming up only about as tall as the deer had been, and with a moderately sized bust. Her clothes were plain, a t-shirt and sweat pants that just seemed to draw attention to how downy the girl’s fur was. Dark, shiny hair atop her head was disheavaled and splayed. 

“um … p-package f-for a … nnggg … f-for …” the horse breathed. Every moment was a sharp gasp, his hands reached down to cup his balls on pure reflex and then just as hastily pulled away. Cheeks beet red and his nostril flaring from the exertion. Ohgodwhy they won’t stop moving … 

“Right. I think I know what this is.” The cow snorted with a deadpan face. It looked as if she was trying her hardest not to roll her eyes, and fairly keen on waiting for the sweaty muscular mailman to move on. 

She accepts her mail with a very obvious judgmental stare and starts to close the door behind her, while the mailman …

“Gngn-nnooo!” he could feel it.

Feel tiny, dainty little hands easing their way through his urethra, fingertips poking out the cockslit and feeling their way around his butt. Poking against the bulging cheeks and finding something to grasp onto.

The cow girl’s eyes go wide at the imprint of probing, feminine hands appearing at this mailman’s midsection, the door half closed and a certain shade of pink appearing over her cheeks. The horse was at an obscene level of embarrassment after this. 

“Can I … help you with that?” the cow’s voice was all but seductive, her eyes glistening. 

“No! No. Nononono. I’ve … I can’t spend too much time … maybe later?” 

The cow girl smiles. “Call me.”

And so the two walk away from each other, with the horse picking up his packages with one hand, and using his other to shove at the doe’s fingertips. Looking for all the world as if he were scratching himself, or trying to adjust a wedgie, making concerted effort to get her hands back inside his cock and away from the single most sensitive bit across his entire set of bits. 

He continues walking, but their thrashing squirms only grow more distracting with time. People on the streets notice how labored his breathing is, the way his pants keep twitching, the stares he gave to anything with a reasonably attractive hole he might decide to make use of if this continues.

For a moment he debated just getting it over with, deliver to the next house and then whip his pants off and start rubbing. If he can make it fast enough they might burst free, naked, coated in his seed, some distance from their house. With the entire neighborhood watching both him and them. Publicity to the extreme, and he almost suspected they wouldn’t mind.

But that would also involve publicity for himself, and even if he walks away quickly enough the rumors will spread. Best to hide this as best as possible so as not to offend anyone with what they might consider obscenity. Let alone what his boss might think if complaints cum in about the incident.

Heh … cum in. 

No, he could get through this. Self control, poise, taking in the knowledge of how good this will feel when he finally relaxes at home and can rub one out in privacy. Maybe the showers would be a good place for … oh, next house. 

Biting his lip, the horse waddles up once more and rings a doorbell to the most melodious chime. 

“Gnfnfaaa!” a whinnying sound came out of him from an inopportune squirm. His hands immediately pressing on the button again to mask his undignified noises and cup his balls in preparation. He just had to give them all a squeeze to make them stop … wait. Was she licking his urethra? 

She was licking it. He could feel the wet of her tongue, the way her nose rubbed into the taut wrappings. Her head bob resulted in an outright orgasmic rub as bristly soft hairs are smoothed across the inside. Have you ever had a feather duster applied to your cock? A wet, warm feather duster in the shape of a cute girl, all perfectly smoothed and slick, while actively fucking her husband inside you.

There was no describing it, there was no hiding it. Which became a bit of a problem when the next person opened the door, and a powerfully built mare is looking down at him.

Ohgodno she’s almost a foot taller than he is, twice the height and twice the width of either little deer inside his shaft. She was gazing with concern and muted interest on her face, a snort at the obvious scents of lust. 

He couldn’t describe his position and didn’t bother trying, one hand still draped over his cock it was with extreme embarrassment that he hands over the intended package. 

“For you, ma’am.” 

“It looks like you have another package for me.” She deadpans. Giving no indication of whether she’s insulted or interested. Taking a thin box and tucking it under her arm. 

This had to stop, he was not going to run into this same scenario at every single house.

“U-uh … uh … c-can I use your bathroom please?” He blurts undiplomatically, to which she raises an eyebrow. 

“A cute guy like you? Sure. First door to the left.” And then stands out of the way to allow his passage. Her expression didn’t change in the slightest this entire time, though the mailman did catch her watching his tush when he steps inside. 

Ooooggnhg~

She was probably noticing the shape of a face sticking out, the buck inside now taking to a forceful kiss. As if he might nibble on things and add his own slobber to the slicked up, cumstained mess. 

Breathe. Just breath. The mailman did not need to actually use the bathroom, all he needed was the privacy.

A door shut behind him, the sound of a massive mare’s feet thudding into the carpet, and finally enough space to pull his pants down and whip it out. Immediately the cock springs up as if it were a coiled snake, the twin lumpy shapes on either top and bottom bulging out from everywhere except the tip. His balls had the distinct scratching shape and feel of two antlers jutting inside them, well antlers and doe hooves, while any time his hands graced the  flesh one of the two deer inside would writhe more fiercely. 

The woman’s panties were doing an exceptional job of holding up this massive bundle, and without stretching out either. Clearly the doe had gotten them with the intention of devouring things in mind, and it was serving the mailman well. But after this he wasn’t going to need the panties to keep his monster of a cock restrained. 

“H-hokay. Sorry about this you two.” He breathes to himself, preparing for something very different from release. 

Both of his hands grip the shaft and squeeze. His teeth grit together and he focuses all of his intention on tightness, on a hard compression with his loins. Breathing, faster and harder and with increasingly ragged gasps. 

He watches as the two shapes inside are flattened down, and his cock starts to shrink around them. 

A bounce, a gasp, a tiny splurt of cum just inching out onto the floor and staining the inside of his pants. Sweating profusely the mailman wasn’t giving up, his cock willed smaller and smaller around the two prone forms. 

Their struggles inside dwindled, from what had been coherent wriggling into faint little twitches, only to wriggle at full force when the cock relents and their full size balloons back up with a vengeance. 

He had hands for this. Grip the base of his cock, squeeze in both palms, focus and tighten, and  … melt.

Feel the buck’s face melt inside him, feel the thighs and feet on either side of this deer’s head merge into his muzzle. Merge into the walls. Feel as it squashes down under a firm touch and, when releaxed, does not bulge back to its former size. 

Further up the chain, the woman feeling his absorbtion from waist up, her knees against her chest and her butt in her husband’s face, her whole lower body was the first to feel it. While for the husband it was from head down, his antlers the first to merge into the cock around him, becoming stiff and downy. 

A squeeze, a hard clench, and when his hands pull away the base of his cock was almost normal size, albeit now covered in a soft tan fur. Less like the shaft of a horse or a deer, and more like someone had taken a horse cock and tried to make it into a stuffed toy. 

Well, this cock was stuffed all right. 

He moves up towards their midsection to fix that. Feeling the panicked thrashing from inside as either of the two attempt one last, desperate fucking. The woman greedily devouring her husband’s cock, and the husband’s lower body trying to parse it’s new attachments, the head and face now spread thin amongst the walls he’d been surrounded by. 

A clench. A throaty gasp of pleasure, and intense focus on just that spot. The cock starts to even out, requiring multiple squeezes with his hands before it stays in one shape. A press down, then releasing, a press down once more and then releasing to see if the melting had taken them. 

It felt like so much liquid oozing around inside, billowing forth as if the two deer had turned into cum. But if they were cum they might still move around or try to crawl out. If they became his cock, he’d have a lot more control and no chance of leaking them out in public. 

The doe’s head and her husband’s tush were all that was left. The butt wriggling and making his cock sway back and forth in the mailman’s grip. 

Equine fingers close around the tip and compress over the shape of a buck’s hips at the top and a doe’s face at the bottom, everything stretched to cartoonish extremes at the slit while merging back down to a normal size near the base and the balls. He presses firmly into the back of her head, shoving the girl’s lips into the male’s nethers and feeling her petite little nose wet the area. Those horns, small and rounded yet still hard enough to jut out from the taut skin if allowed to. 

He squeezes down on this last part and throws his head back in a writhing exctasy. All movement, all sensation, focused exclusively on the slit itself, his shaft feeling like it was in the middle of climax this entire time and simply never finished, never stopped, the pleasure building and building with every squeeze. 

The head deforms and the butt mashes down, both of them compacted into the space of an ordinary horse shaft with only the girl’s horns resisting. He doesn’t look, but he can feel it. Feel the way they melt and degrade, feel the way they sink into his flesh just a little bit at a time. 

His hands relent and the shaft bulges back out. The tip twice as large as it should be, the slit stretched wide by the matted form of two bodies wrapped up against each other. But half the size it had been when two deer were bundled together, their forms merging into the shaft, loosing mass with every moment, loosing cohesion and shape with every clench. 

For a moment the mailman wondered what it would be like to use this cock on someone, not just playing with himself while two strangers melt away, but to jam this rod between the legs of another person. And feel their forms soften inside with every thrust, watch how the tight folds of another’s pussy or ass perform the same work his palms are doing now. He’d simply need to find someone large enough or stretchy enough to accept the load, and one who wouldn’t rat him out for the two people inside. 

Ohgodwhynonnaggnghdg!

All thought broke down, and any attempt to make words beyond the lust crazed whinnying was doomed to failure. His head throws back once more and he sags against the wall. Sweating and breathing and trying to cum, only to feel everything blocked, everything always blocked. A squeeze on the tip, a rub from bottom to top, and another jurking surge of excitement as he tries to release. Violent contraction and orgasmic denial.

The head inside deforms and the horns merge completely, but they were still blocking. Still …

Still …

The sound of the doe girl squealing is unleashed from the tip of his now normal sized penis, one last breath with the lips of her muzzle only barely visible, tiny and half melted so as to stick against the walls. Her mouth was his slit, and as her final breath before the rest of her faded away …

He squirts. 

The white seed rockets out of her mouth, splattering to the floor right next to the first release. Bigger splash, to an extent, but not to any unreasonable degree, certainly not enough to mess up the bathroom. Some dripping down the inside of his pants, other droplets going further to stain the floors. 

Pleasure, orgasm, it slowly fades into an easy calm. He can already feel his cock going limp in his hands, held up only by those careful fingers wrapped around it. His eyes open, the mailman’s breathing gently returns to normal, and he finally allows himself to inspect what he’d just accomplished. 

His new cock … was almost disappointing, in that it wasn’t any bigger than before. Sliding up from the balls was a downy fuzz, soft and smooth and warm to the point it felt like he was touching one of the two deer, to then give way to a cream colored brown across the rest of it. Bare flesh and sticky with sweat, though still oddly akin to milk chocolate. A color that just seemed too light and too soft to match the rest of his body. 

Each deer being such a similar color it was hard to tell who was who based only on the patterns, save for two specific details. He notices speckled white dots along parts of his shaft, at the base, at a spot along the center just around the sides, and then more speckles of color brightening the underside of his shaft.

He raises it to look, turning his new cock over in his palms, now spotting what looked like a tattoo of twin horns lining the shaft. Right near his slit, he felt a finger across them and couldn’t tell the imprint of those horns apart from just a discoloration in the flesh. Glancing in a mirror, looking at the balls behind him he can see where the male’s much longer antler’s went. Forming a lengthy, jagged tattoo that seems to round the heavy curves, deforming under the wrinkled skin. He touches these. He fondles them as before, delighting in how nice it felt and how … possessive he could be over it.

Nothing about the new cock was lumpy or unnatural looking unless one counted how poorly it fit with the maleman’s aesthetic, but it did very closely resemble the two people who now made it up. Just without eyes, without a mouth, without limbs, and all merged together. But right here, right now, this was his cock. And there was very little one could do to take it away from him. 

The two deer inside say nothing. They really can’t, for all their experience, still alive and still fully aware. They could not see, for instead of eyes there was simply more cockflesh about them. They couldn’t really move, as they only had erect and flaccid with little control over the position of either state. Each of their bodies were spread wide, their insides opening up so that their intestines, their stomach, their anus and mouth, now all felt like a single long tube going from start of the cock to the end of the cock. 

For the girl her tush was near the far base and her lips had become the tip. Not merged into the outside of the shaft like she’s had done to her multiple times by her husband mounting her and then absorbing, this was being absorbed from the inside. And so the outer walls of the cock belonged to the horse, while the inner tube was their whole existence. 

For the husband it was the other way around, he felt as if his butt were the slit, and his mouth were the entrance to the balls. Tasting cum at every waking moment, and able to feel as if his anus were being stretched open at any time the slit is pulled wide. 

Each of them experiments with their mobility, the buck feeling his body pulled and stretched as the wife puts in an effort to speak, and the doe girl having what felt like her insides scrambled around when the husband tries to kick.

For the horse …

These were light twitches. Somewhat noticeably, mildly pleasant, and serving as a bit of background enjoyment he could mostly ignore, but what would still leave him smiling the rest of the day. Or really, for as long as he decided to keep them here, after all they were both a fun loving bunch and might enjoy the adventures a mailman’s cock can get up to. 

It felt pleasant, a light twinge of happiness welling up from his loins, the occasional surprise of watching his shaft do something he didn’t expect. Other than the tattoo of antlers his balls were, unsurprisingly, unaffected. 

Next was the simple matter of sliding his panties back on. Pink and brown women’s panties, the wife smothered up in darkness by her own clothing, stretched to fit a set of hips much wider than hers. Despite the cock being vastly smaller now that it’s not stretched to hold two people, this was still a very tight fit. Obstructing their movements, applying pressure on all sides, tucking the shaft back between his legs so that the doe’s … face? Slit? Tip? What felt like her face and lips were once more nestled between two ballsacks on either side and the tight ass cheeks of a working horse.

Darkness consumes them both when the pants are snapped into place. Hot and muggy, the stain of jizz remaining as a constant smell to liven the area. Both deer can still hear the heavy sigh of relief from so much higher up, and the vibrating shudder when he clops along a bathroom’s tile floor. They each try to twitch once more, the woman opening her slit and closing again, the husband making jerky motions from along the base of the shaft. 

But each were restricted so completely they couldn’t even bulge the pants, as if the horse had foreseen their ability to get a stiffy and embarrass him at some inopportune moment and had made certain that sort of revenge wasn’t a possibility.

When the mailman steps out of the bathroom it’s with a smile on his face, and a keen awareness of how the horse woman was …

Was …

Standing naked.

Right outside the doorway, her clothes piled on the floor, and a single rectangular card in her hands. Her arms were crossed, her legs splayed wide to put all that she had to offer on full display. Wide hips, a toned and muscular body with just the right amount of curves to accentuate her feminine beauty. 

Being so much taller the girl’s breasts were right at nose level, and it was a struggle to look her in the eyes. Each orb roughly the same size as his head, and her broad shoulders wide enough to wrap around him completely.

“So.” She utters in a breathless whisper, her expression that of a resigned boredom. “You up for it?” 

One did not need to ask what ‘it’ meant in this context, or at least the mailman assumed it was obvious. His loins betrayed him once more by fighting their hardest against silken panties,. They didn’t win, even stretching out to full thicknes and jabbing against the cloth, it just meant he had to adjust his pants and force them right back into place. Doing so in front of this hot naked woman probobly sent the wrong messege. 

“Um, n-no. Actually I’m a bit late as it is and this was just uh, a-an … an emergency. I really need to be going now but uh, t-thank you for …”

She cuts him off by thrusting her arms forward and down with a dominating bluntness. Pulling out the hem of his pant’s pocket, her fingertips displaying every bit of strength and power they wielded against his tush, and deftly sliding in a paper card. 

“Call me.” 

She says this not as a request, and not with a sultry wink. Her expression disinterested and benign. These words were spoken as a command, and in the full assurance that she would not be denied. 

As the mailman leaves this house and scoops up the rest of his packages, a tiny bit flustered and heavily thankful, he knew for a fact that she wasn’t wrong. 

Calm.

He could breath, he could be, and for the rest of his walk he could forget about the tantalizing pleasure he’s received in public. Why couldn’t these sort of things happen on the weekends when he’s not pressed for time? Well, happen on Sunday at least. He can’t be constantly taking breaks to relieve his pent of desires, and the sheer number of attractive people he comes across does not help with keeping a clear head. 

No longer quite as sweaty, a bounce in his step, and a smile bridging his lips, he makes his way down to the next house he can remember and hopes this one won’t take up more time from him. There was a debate on if he should run or not, but decided against expending energy when it was going to be a very fun filled night once he’s home.

Two people have just become his cockshaft, what would it do to be so tired he falls asleep the moment he’s home? It’s almost an insult to the two deer, they were certainly both enjoyable enough to devote some attention to. And getting them back out was going to take a very long time rubbing and kneading and watching just the right videos … maybe a few magazines too. 

His underwear feel’s tighter at the thought of it, and to the mailman’s amusement the cock seemed to try and squiggle left and right. It just bumped into his thighs of course, they were both still quite thoroughly trapped, and nothing short of the wrath of a god was going to pull them away from him before fun times were had. 

Then he rung the doorbell and prepared to deliver …

“YOU!” 

Oh right, this was the sheep girl. His smile almost faded when he remembered just what she was after, and how insistent she could be in getting it. 

“Embrace me!” She aggressively lunged forward to latch onto the horse’s pants. She was roughly half his size, but the same width. A thickness to her curves that gave the sheep’s fluffiness a feminine roundness, clearly heavier than she looks. If not for the height then her build is what one could have expected from a cow. Not fat, at least not quite, the proportions were still perfectly healthy, but the far opposite of slim. 

And now she’d forcefully dragged the mailman inside, the door still open, and what seemed to be a very pent up woman already trying to take charge. 

“Hey hey, s-so very sorry, but now actually isn’t the best time.” 

“But … but last week you promised.” The sheep looks disappointed, but not surprised. 

“Y-yeah, see I wasn’t really expecting …”

“Today was my day. You scheduled your fun for me. On this day. Like we always do! You can’t have decided to go to someone else, this is my day!” 

“The thing is, there was a surprise at one of the houses, and I really can’t- …”

“Is that why you’re late?” She frowns, but before the horse can step back she’s hugged onto both of his legs. It wasn’t a hug.

“Umgmgph!” Pulling at the back of both knees in one scoop, she drags him to the floor and is already halfway into getting his pants off. The mail scattered about their front porch and the woman’s full weight bearing down on his midsection. In truth they both had a roughly equivalent weight and he could easily pick her up if he tried, but her hands felt so good, and having her breasts bulging down …

Soft, squishy, such firm breasts that looked every bit as thick as the rest of her … 

“Ohmygosh you have another woman’s panties!” She notices immediately while trying to pull those down, getting about halfway before the horse tries to stand back up. 

“Y-yeeesss, but there’s a bit of a …”

“You went and had fun with someone else, on my day, after you promised me, and now you don’t have time for me anymore …” she assessed with a frump. Understanding, but disliking this. 

“Technically true but there’s a bit more to- …” he found himself cut off again, though in knowing fear when she pulls out a pair of scissors.

“Well then I’m going to make sure you don’t renege on your promise next time.” Against his breathless squirms she slide the scissors inside, the top blade and the bottom blade easing against either side of his balls. Obviously prepared to take the whole thing off in one go. Her other hand wraps around the tip, and the horse moans in pleasure at just how forceful her thumb was at the gaping slit. 

“N-nonon, let’s not be too hasty! There’s something you sho- …”

Snip.

It was quiet. The Sheep grins to herself and pulls away the entire length of the horse dong, roughly the size of her arm when erect and probably half that flaccid. It flails and twitches in her hand like a stiff bundle of rubber, the deer at the tip gnawing on air and trying to grab her slit around something. The buck at the bottom flopping, dangling, as if hoping to feel his way around in his blind, mute existence. Both deer could feel a much stronger hand holding firm into their midsection.

The mailman felt no pain, and with a fearful grip his hands ease over the smooth, furless patch of skin that remains. Everything pulled away cleanly, effortlessly, and re-attaching it was simply a matter of holding it there and trying to absorb. Or, you know, find another willing victim who might enjoy the position for a time.

None of this did anything to draw from the fear of what this cock hungry woman would do if allowed to hold it all day, especially when angry at him. Nor what the two deer might think if they were ever brought back to normal.

“Gnnnh! Please, you have to put that back. There’s a bit of a- …”

“I’m sorry.” She plops the balls into her mouth and starts to suck, the tip hanging out past her lips like a lollipop and her tongue massaging beneath the shaft, unknowingly working through the buck’s head and the doe’s ass. Though the shaft felt like neither, it still tasted of deer, and the fur was delightfully smooth. “Did I make it seem like you were given a choice?” 

“gnggnhhahah … h-haaa.” The horse gasps, already starting to sweat. His cheeks blushing furiously, he still tries to explain. “T-there’s a problem wit- …”

Schluuuurrrp. In goes the rest of the shaft, gobbled up like a noodle and bent at the middle to round against her cheeks. Everything but the tip and slit were poking out, her mouth bulging and a bit of spittle dribbling down to wet the mailman’s pants. 

“You were saying?” She mumbles, careful to slide her teeth against the sides of that length for even more stimulation, her tongue snaking up and out to slide over the tip. The end of her tongue jabbing against the doe’s mouth, that cum tasting slit, and jutting inside. An unknowing French kiss in which the doe gets to taste another woman’s spittle. 

“Ggnhhmpgh!” The horse thrashes. Both hands cupping against his crotch to relieve pleasure from something that wasn’t there. Smooth and neutered, his arms instinctively rubbing against dull flesh, the need to release combined once more with the complete inability to do so. He couldn’t talk. He couldn’t think. Through the sheer erotic stimulation he was having trouble breathing. 

“If you don’t leave and go finish your work right now, I am going to swallow.” She slurs over the meat in her jaws, shoving most of the cock into one cheek and preparing for a gulp. “Then. I’m gonna melt it. Absorb it. And add this cock to my hips, where you will never, ever get it back.”

“Ggngn!” the mailman is wide-eyed, desperate, but nodding his head in understanding. If she wanted a cock tattoo she was more than willing to flatten someone else’s cock to get it. Something fun during the first several times he met with her on a day like this, and … okay it’d still probably be fun.

“If you want this cock back, then you’re going to have to wait till your job is done, and then come see me to get it. However long that takes.” She slurs. More drool spilling down onto the brown and pink panties, the woman leans herself forward just so that her boobs are smothering his midsection. 

A tiny bit of stickyness where her fluff and flesh met his skin reminded the horse just how she maintains such a figure, and that she has no qualms against adding him to her chest if he keeps trying to argue.

So the mailman nods. Vigorously. And the sheep stands up with a bouncy grin, still not pulling the cock from her lips. “Perfect! You promised me cock. And so if you are too busy, then I’ll just have your cock without you. And pleasepleasepleaaaaaaaaase don’t stand me up next week, you’re the best part of my day alright?” 

He nods again, stammering to his feet and using jittery arms to snatch up bits of mail that spilled around. Not too many large parcels left, but plenty of small letters. The sheep’s mail was left on her doorstep. 

“Mmhhmm.” She slurps again. “Thanks for the packages. Bye now!” she shuts the door on him.

The double-meaning never felt so strong, and the horse could feel every wet pop and slick blurp as she drraaaaaawwwws the length of that horse wiener past her teeth, making sure that supple, warm lips were sliding across every inch of it. Wet saliva coating the entire thing and falling to the floor in thick drops. 

“Huh … it has horn tattoos on it, when did that happen?” 

This new insight wasn’t going to stop her from a full day of womanly pleasure though.