An easy job doing delivery work, whether flowers, candy, or some special small gift to that beloved one, it makes for some fast chicanery of town driving, illegal parking, and dashing about, but for the most-part its uplifting good fun to see people happy when they get what I would deliver.
Five months of doing my job, beginning an eight in the morning and continuing until the last item is delivered, makes for long hours around any a holiday. My knowing the city and its various streets got me a good sum per-hour; it was what spurred me on to be proficient. Skilled at delivery, showing due respect to they who I deliver their gift, if asked, you do the extra and they often reward with a tip.
At my age I should have realized trouble coming, when entering the Toll Building, delivering there two dozen red roses in a crystal vase. I met there some artisan workmen finishing the remodeling and merging of two apartments into one very large unit there on the same floor. Seeing and considering the mess there in the hallway, Floor five of that old building was a mess from the renovations underway, and just seeing the dust and junked building materials piled in the hallway, I felt unsettled doing my delivery.
I asked the men there if indeed apartment “5-C” was assuredly inhabited, they laughing, answered in the affirmative, and with them smiling at me, they in unison said for me to have a good time.
Walking through the mess, and struggling to balance the heavy vase chucked full of long stem roses, I made my way to stand at the door to suite 5-C. Knocking at the door since my pressing the doorbell button there made no telltale sound from inside that it even worked, I knocked at the door, unable to just leave by it such an expensive a gift.
“I am coming, coming, coming,” said a voice, a very female a voice from inside the apartment. The dark blue painted door was unlatched from inside, and when it swung open my mouth dropped and penis arouse to a stiffened state. There before me stood a beautiful woman in a blue bathrobe, she all wet from being in the shower. The reason I know she was so beautiful was because she had failed to finish close over and wrap the belt to her robe, it stood parted and open showing me what she was from face to her wiggling toes.
“Good afternoon Misses Stan…,” I began to say as with as much professionalism mustered I did not want to show the customer I was stunned and aroused by her coming to the door half naked.
“No, not a misses, just Miss Stanley, you brought me my flowers, and they look so very nice too! Oh do come in, bring them to…, over here and carefully place them on this Monkey-pod table I purchased when in Hawaii.” She said to me, and I did as asked, my eyes often looking at her, taking note by a man who had seen it all before, but not so well packaged.
She seemed as so overly delighted by the delivery, that when the vase stood set just where and as she did so direct, she stunned me more by throwing off her robe and coming to me, wrapped her arms about my chest and hugged me. Her hugging had to make note of my erection and the tenting happening to the summer weight tan colored trousers the company insisted I wear.
“Please excuse me, but I do have some other deliveries to expedite today…,” I said, struggling to get the words right and out without stammering due to the sensations she provided.
“You embarrassed? I suspect, a man of your age would relish some physical intimacy, especially from someone who looks as good as do I. Oh I know I act quite bold, I do that when around men, men are my one wild fetish, me being a Nymphomaniac.” She said, and hearing it I should have broke her hug and walked to the apartment door, take the customary leave there and return to the safety of my truck. That is what I should have done, but her wooing of me befuddled a mature manly mind into remembering my youth.
A moment later and she pushed her hand down past my leather belt there to snug on me my dress slacks by the waist; her fingers dancing at my male erection, making me melt into putty to her lusty desires. Foolish is an older man when confronted by such beauty and of one so forward in every since of the word. Her hand cupped and squeezing on my erect penis she led me off to her bedroom as would an owner of a puppy.
All my moral fortitude melted away like hot wax, lending me to do for her as she asked, and of such fornication and debauchery that it mesmerized me to forget the passing of time. We coupled two times and each for a long duration until I rolled off from her and felt limp, spent, and tired from our thrashing.
“Oh but it melted,” she said, so notating the limp snake like penis that slipped out of her to hang looking lifeless from my groin. “Here,” she said, she reaching over to her bedside nightstand, pulled open a drawer and retrieved there a small, clay made jar, with a rubber band holding on it what looked in the dim light as if a leather cover. She carefully removed the rubber band, and then with using just her fingernails, she lifted off the top of that jar the leather cover, she held it up as if to show me something special.
“This is something I have learned to make myself, my Aunt showed me the making and of pictures how it works so well.” She said, and then without giving me a moment of time to ask or agree to her using it, she sat up, rolled over, sitting upon my chest, her knees beside my head, her wet pussy just inches from my mouth. She looked down at me with the most disturbing a evil smile, and with the jar in her one hand then she reached behind her and slammed the jar down, it capturing my shrunken penis and testicles, all slipping inside the clay jar as the sensations began.
What felt like cold creme at its first touch to my maleness began quickly to warm, getting to feel like searing hot, I took an inhaled breath to scream as she slipped forward, leaning her sloppy pussy to come and cover my mouth! The smell of her, the moistness, my tongue stuck out my mouth as my exhaled scream went bloating in her, she liking the sensation acted more aggressive, working the clay jar tighter to cover as much of my groin as its jaw-maw would allow.
Minutes, how many I lost more than thought of time, but lost consciousness. My awakening later I found she had wrapped me up like to a mummy in a thick woolen blanket. So tight the blanket, my arms and legs were completely bound together, if separated by at least one layer of the blanket around them and all of me. I struggled against the binding cloth, hear her being there, I was unable to ask her to release me, she having put into my mouth a woolen gag.
Helpless to her Nymphomania play, imagine then when feeling of her laying over me, her legs straddling past my head, he hot pussy near to where was my nose, and she with some knife was working it to cut the cloth, as she revealed my penis to the open air.
“It always works like Auntie said, what were limp gains then its youthful vigor. It becomes of color and contours that from what went into the made salve, as in you, I thought ahead and had a want for something stout, with girth, and exceptional libido. What I see that is now part of the new you are just what my lusty desires say is going to be a month of wild fun!” She said and so stated, she had me wondering but oddly not worried, my wish to leave her had become a strange desire to stay and let of her do to me as with me whatever she thought as pleasurable.
She was aroused by what I felt her nimble fingers was coaxing out past the hole she made in the woolen binding. It felt good, I felt renewed, as if young again, strong in so many ways, as then I did not know what she had done and begun. Her excitement was dampening the woolen cloth covering my face. Her vaginal juices were flowing, forcing of me to breath in her scent, and it making my mind race as penis stiffen.
Strange the sensations, the memory of them, that first time when feeling of how she had endowed me with what I was not born ever to have or know of such a wealth of sensation. It stretched out into the cooler air, and she stroking at it suggested to me being blinded and unable to see, thought my penis as so long it could be the cock of a horse.
Her hands were all over that long shaft, she taking particular attention to the lost circumcision of my penis, as she and I felt her palm smooth over the flattened, blunted end, and she liking to poke he pinky finger inside the pee-hole, this made her giggle.
It stood up and out with such rigidity, the skin of it smooth and supple, extremely heightened in its sensual feelings. Her touching of my then shaft made for rapid breathing, inhaling her scent and arousing as exciting in me such lust and want for passion, I thought this was how she would make of me as a Nymphomaniac too!
Then the tickling point of her knife graced its touch close enough to my testicles that it made me jerk and try to jump away. She was more than just beauty, she had strength, holding me in place, did cut the cloth, and with those nimble fingers she coaxed out what she had made of grow to being bigger balls. I knew that by her soft finger doing circles on the soft skin of testicles what seemed then as if five or more times what they were when I walked into her apartment.
A laugh from her, and then a quick changing of her position, she not letting go of her hold there on my erect penis. She said as to explain all, “I appreciate you being so willing to help me realize a most recent desire. You see, I visited my good friend, she having a small farm, and owning some ponies, one she uses to stimulate her. She offered me to try him, but he being a Fell pony has a cock the girth of one on a draft horse, and my tender pussy might not accept such a monolithic a pole.
The salve I made according to what Auntie wrote the recipe, had in it the semen of that Avelignese pony stallion. Once donned on any a human male it makes the meager human male penis an exact duplication of what the pony or any an animal might have. You have now the penis of an equal to that stallion pony; your balls are as large and will produce equally to what he injects into my friend on a weekly basis.
Today you are as my personal living dildo, only without the wild rush of lust that stallion might do to me, you being here, all erect, and I shall let you slip inside of me, stretching me, but not able to injure me.”
That said, she began to slide my then pony size cock into her pussy, her wet, hot, wild depths made me moan. Every sliding of me inside of her was another moment of blissful rapture to a man past the age of fifty. Suddenly, nothing mattered, except for me to be her object of realizing pleasure. All thought of my wife, home, the workplace, it all faded into a denied blur, my one reason for living of life was to be there for her, to give unto to her pleasure, she was not mine, but I was most certainly as if owned physically and mentally by her.
Time passed, as did several gut wrenching climaxing sessions, the volume of what my cock then spewed was unprecedented in my years of lovemaking to she who I…, married? The word married hung in my mind, as if a reminder of something I should do or go to tend.
How I do not know, but she made note as to my sudden frame of mind, as if not continuing my undivided attentions of pleasuring her need. I felt her pull off, and by so doing something in me wanted me to begin crying. Just moments later, she had returned, and as I laid there still flaccidly aroused but helpless, she began soaking my face and all my wrapped hear in some sordid smelling juice.
“I know I need you and with this you too will have need for me and what I can do for you!” She said, as the oily juice permeated the wool, making it for some awkward moments difficult to breathe.
All concerns fled my conscious mind, as with a renewed vehemence to giving forth pleasure and semen, we returned to doing numerous orgasms in her and climaxing cloud nine for me.
Action and continued eruptions of juices from us both made me near dehydrating to a dangerous level. She could smell the heavy sweat scent coming from me, quite rank. “The salve and the seducing brew has begun what will not disturb us or come to bother you; it is time to unwrap your present.” She announced, and having said that, did begin snip and cutting the woolen bindings.
The unwrapping of my head as first was appreciated, it allowed me to fathom of how well mummified I was, being from the wait and up to my neck as several inches the thickness. She did not remove the mouth gag, and with our eye contact she saw my concern, and shook her head, she said, then, “No, not yet, when you are unbound and after seeing what is as are you now, then shall I let you expound your thrill and pleasure!”
Knowing of what and how she said what she said it worry me, I was not concerned with what she had done, but felt the want to reevaluate how best I might continue pleasuring of her, and of me.
Unwinding, removing all the hundreds of wrapping strips, most of them a foot wide and fluffy thick, as I was released I did sit up and could not take my eyes from off her, eying her perfect body, her breast, and panning down, did stare for forever at her foamed semen soaked pussy. When she had unwound the last of the woolen cloth from off my legs, she motioned for me to slip over the edge of her big bed, and with legs draped down toward the floor, she knelt before me.
“Now close your eyes, keep them closed tight shut, I shall now dose you in some other mixture Auntie used on my many uncles. This needs only be brushed on you at the face, chest, groin, and on your legs to the feet. Do hold still!” She said, and I did as was asked, rather taking a sense of enjoyment as some soft brush did stroke on my skin what she deemed as necessary to our continued relationship.
“There, yes, yes, oh wait I forgot something, now keep your eyes closed, do not open them yet!” She said, as she I heard her scurry away only to return a moment later. “Now I must read this, it is as part of what Auntie told me would help someone like you, you to become exactly what I need, before I can try my luck with a real stallion stud.”
Unquestioning her plan and purpose, I obeyed her like a dog before its true master, sitting, patient as a monument, feeling only contentment and the faintest of tingling sensation.
“I, you be ah…, Duro e resistente diventati come se sopportato uno stallion del cavallino di Avelengo, controllo continuo da Lisa Stanley, calmo e volere di temperamento, altamente intelligente, ricordante che cosa di tutti istruito e sappiate, essendo cambiando, permanent e fino alla morte.
(Italian a translation: Tough and hardy become as if born an Avelengo pony stallion, continuous control by Lisa Stanley, calm and willing of temperament, highly intelligent, remembering what of all you learned and did know, being changed, permanent and until death.)
Her words were foreign to me, but for some unknown reason as she said them in my mind they sifted into place, and became intelligible, as if I learned and understood for forever what those odd words had as a meaning. Understanding of what she said, down deep there was a wisp of quick fear, it faded like cigarette smoke in a spring breeze.
“This is OK with you, you becoming for me as much my personal pony, all tame and loving of true lust, passionate, but knowing better not to try and rip me apart?” She said as asked, asking me if I minded, and me knowing I should, said not a word but tried to crack a friendly smile, my lips being already then thicker.
She reached out her hands and taking mine, she beckoned me to try and stand.
Age had fled, and renewed was the strength of muscle and stoutness of bone, as standing upright. She kept us in continued eye contact, her power over me that of something all consuming, warm and offering such a sense of comfort!
“Walk with me,” she said as I did as asked, my legs wanting to take high as long stride steps, an awkward feeling, as if by being upright, I would be best of walking on all fours.
She with me we walked around the many rooms of her spacious apartment, the faction of time and its passing as something so innocuous of a concern, my seemingly only reason for being was to be there for her. When she thought I had walked enough, she led me through a doorway and inside a room, the room decorated as if it were a small stable. I saw by looking past Lisa, a stack of hay bales, and four to be exact. A grain bin, a scooper tied by a cord to a nail so not to get lost or mislaid. There taking a third of the room was a stall, to be as mine and for me to retire to when tired and or wanting to rest for exhausting sessions of bestial sex.
Lulled by something in me, I stepped inside the stall, my legs folding up under me, I scrunched into the straw bedding, it prickly, but I felt assured in due time I would get accustomed to the feel.
Lisa left and returned a moment later, she having a very large baby bottle with a long black nipple, and holding it before my face, I reached my head as face to it, lips grabbing it, I suckled as would a colt. Expecting it to be as milk for a mare, it had an odd flavor as if not milk but a milky colored potion. Whatever it was, I put the thought out of my mind, sucking on the nipple reached into remembering of doing something like that some eons ago.
My mind clouded, as if a temporary wave of dull ignorance dunked my human mind in a globe of murky water. Able to see, hear, and smell, but the mind seemed as told to ignore most everything, to wander my thoughts, training on nothing particular, just be there until Lisa Stanley would require me to go and be near her.
Feeling stiff, I thought then to stand, but after many uncoordinated and failed tries, I slumped down and felt to wait for Lisa to come soon and help me to stand. My every thought seemed intent on doing whatever Lisa asked, as not that it bothered me. I had this battle going on in my head as to whether to do for Lisa or for my own desires, nothing seemed wholly proper.
A want for Lisa to come I tried hard to get my lips and tongue to do as they did for so many years, to speak, but what I said was more a cried monotone, no words!
A long wait and the notation of the sun going down and its coming up again signaled in me the sign of another new day, but from how I had rested, it felt like a great new day. Then in what felt like the only way to truly get the attention of Lisa, I inhaled a huge breath and exhaled it out, my tongue rippling, and the sound that of a horse doing a loud whinny.
Lisa rushed in, she shushing me, insisting I not whinny so loud.
I felt lonely and a inner need to pee, as she smiled, seeing my shivering urgency, she did take hold of me about my shoulders. Her very touch felt as soft and warm she so very caring, was enough by her to help me stand. Once standing and having still to use a wooden post at the opening to my stall as support, she looked at me and said, “Well go on, you do it!”
Cocking my head as from experience the saying of words was wanting but not working, my head language that of asking a question.
Lisa smiled! She then said to me, “Oh but you are so sweet! You need to ignore what your mother taught you, as from today, now and for the rest of your life, when you feel the urge, just let it go! Whether it is as urine or moving of bowels, if the urge is there, as then do what feels to ease or seems necessary. There are no social morals for you anymore. You are past having to concern your thoughts with such trivial things. What you will think of more is what thrills you, and of your thrills most is when you can mate. As for today and as long as I feel you are useful, you shall mate with just me. In time, I suspect I shall loan you to my friend, and when residing at her farm, if there be a mare feeling estrus or a woman in need of s great thrill, you can then mate there with them, OK?”
Seemed logical, what Lisa said, but I felt saddened at that coming time when she would feel and think lesser of me, me having what she made of my penis. I stood there, loving her touch, and moaning as she began to comb as brush the thick black fur that had begun over the long night to coat me over.
Soothed and brushed, Lisa gave me a large bowl with raw grain inside, this my breakfast on the first morning of me being her playtime pony.
Meal eaten, a bottle to suckle from and with given what she deemed necessary for my body, she came and led me to her bedroom and we began to play. Our play was everything different than what I remembered doing with she who was my wife. Lisa laid face down on her bed, her legs hung off the bedside, and spread, she allowing me my cock to slide easily at, in, and deep. I worked my pelvis region in helping to surge a stroking action, my cock working like the piston on a steam engine.
Humped over her, I had the occasion to look at and pay attention, seeing as thinking about how strange were my arms, they different, covered with black fur, more muscular. The thought to wobble my wrist and flex fingers, the latter as singularly impossible, me having but one hard finger on what I knew was not a hand.
We mated, she and her vagina orgasmic tightening of her upon my sensual big cock, sent me over the climaxing edge. My testicles, I was proud of them, them truly as my heritage, family jewels, and what of me sent a flood of cum and semen, it spewing out the open end of my flared cock. What early reason for concern of the vanishing of my circumcision to be then as one flared flange end with a flat end head, my cock was just that, it became the essence of my sexual joy.
All the day and into the night, we slowing never, but stopped when I felt the need of an urge. She got angry at me while we were coupled, me humping, that I forgot the reason of all and did let go, peeing a hot stream inside Lisa, it gushing out of her with everything I had ejaculated that morning. I reasoned she wanted only semen from out of my cock, as whether semen or urine the sensation there is much the same.
Our third day of sex fun and frolic, the doorbell rang, a hard knocking at the door, and she grumbling as of who might be coming to visit, did escort me first to my stall before going to answer the door.
I heard Lisa give a short scream and gasp, she hurried back to the bedroom, I thought then she would come for me, but no luck.
Voices in the living room, was two or three men, and they sounding gruff, asking many questions, as of their concern dealing with me, and of what one stated, of my sudden and unexplained disappearance. The company had searched and found the truck parked at the end to that very city block, that where I had left it with motor operating, air conditioner cooling the truck, keeping the delivery items cool.
After they did leave, Lisa returned to me, she all upset, wanted no further play then, and gave me something to eat and wile away the time.
She was not hot, but I was aroused still and wanting to feel the surge of semen rush out of me, I thought of it, remembering what I had bothered to look at once while roving the Internet. My cock still stiff, I used that remarkable libido in me, lifting it up, the cock bumped at a furry belly. Once bumped and feeling my fur, I let it soften, and dropping down, the hefty cock swung from my groin, acting like the pendulum of a great clock.
Satisfaction came with a raised holding of the cock high. It spewed forth a wealth of my semen, sticking to belly fur, to forelegs, hoofs, and splattering onto other items in as near my stall. As great as it felt, it could not compare to when stuffed inside of Lisa, stroking at her heartstrings and as well my own.
A soft moaning whinny brought her back, Lisa standing in the doorway, was watching me. I turned to eye at her, blinked as winked, she walking toward me, did drop her robe and stood in all her beauty before her stud.
With tail busily flicking, a shake of the mane, I turned and with that soft fuzz covered muzzle that I had then, I began nuzzling at her pussy. Her scent as real as it can get, my longer tongue reaching out the mouth, I began licking at her, exciting her.
My cock was out and just having finish my first equine style romp of self masturbating, I felt able still to give Lisa a fair filling of my semen in her womb. Oral play waned quickly my interest of her, and with a jump up, stood almost fully upright, balancing carefully, I reached a foreleg and hoof to grab hold of a ceiling rafter. It steadied me enough, and with Lisa aroused and of wonder, she seeing my cock out at an angle toward her, she stepped up on a overturned bucket, positioned her pussy to my cock head, and with her hands did she coax and slide her body over and down the length of my stiff shaft.
We danced there having coupled together, she wrapping her arms about my belly, was long enough her reach that she interlocked her fingers, effectively holding her to me and on me. I slipped my hold on the rafter, and with in a slow controlled fall forward, dropped to all fours again, Lisa wrapped her legs over my rump, she then as if a belly rider, We did have some fun that afternoon!
On her bed, at the side of her bed, or belly riding of me, Lisa seemed as happier than of any a day since we first met.
The morning after a breakfast of grain and mixed with a bottle of dark beer for flavoring, Lisa had me stand to one side, as she put my many turds in a bucket. As with the bucket she took out my manure, and I heard her plunking them into the hall bath toilet, flushing them down and gone. She returned and with a large plastic barrel and leaf bag liner, she scooped up a week’s worth of straw bedding, and took it to the dumpster.
Lovingly, Lisa made me another nice bed of straw and some flicks of sweet hay, I felt loved.
My life and form were as being one, and of Lisa, she kept me very happy. Our happiness lasted a long while, all that summer, fall, winter, until early springtime, a time when even a changed man being then a pony feels the brutal desire to rut a mare.
By late night or early in the dark morning we, she with me, I wearing my first ever head halter and led by a rope linked to the steel ring of the halter, was led down to the apartment garage, there placed in the back of a stock truck. Lisa bid me a sad farewell; she would come and visit me soon.
The truck drove off, and soon arrived at a farm where another woman, she rather terse, unloaded me, tugging me of to a stable, stall, and treating me like I was born to be an animal. Animal and beast I became what was expected of me, taken to the pasture, was the only stallion for twenty-nine mares. Busy days were ahead, and my cock began to feel some wear and toughening. As like I did with Lisa, to mount a mare the stallion needs do it three to seven times before the dear female feels her urge fade and walks away satisfied.
The mares I impregnated were just to warm me up, as my duties requested by a farm having many donkey jennets. They seemed to like my milder technique, and with well worked vulva from other studs, we got along just fine.
I do not know why from what all I said and told that you have this expression on your face like a bomb exploded. You never thought a horse or pony could talk, never saw old reruns of the television show Mr. Ed; well when I was human I taught myself ventriloquism, if just to entertain the grandkids. So trust my words, and become a delivery man, expect the unexpected to be reality!