This is a short work of erotic fiction containing furry, or anthropomorphic, characters, which are animals that either demonstrate human intelligence or walk on two legs, for the purposes of these tales. It is a thriving and growing fandom in which creators are prevalent in art and writing especially.
Please note that all characters are clearly over eighteen and written as such in all stories.
* * * * *
After the scene at the bar, which, to be entirely fair, Victor the tall, black business stallion, had entirely orchestrated, he made sure that the bay stallion with the light brown mane had his business card. He'd seen rather a lot of that stallion while his wife, Valeria, was urinating on his leg, her fluids soaking through his jeans, his coat, splattering down to the floor of the bar, but he had a funny feeling that he would enlist Gargath's services again. After all, with his wife's kinky inclinations, things that could not be taken public in high-class society, she had to have somewhere to play them out.
"Call me if you ever would like some more...work."
Victor put a certain emphasis on the word before leaving the bar, Gargath swallowing hard. The horse didn't know what was expected of him, eyes on him back there, but, well... The card that had been pressed into his hand had come with a fair amount of cash too, more than enough to see him through the month and clear a solid amount of debt.
And that could have been the end of it, perhaps, if Gargath had not lain in bed that night, thinking over and over again just how hot it had been to have the sexy, fine mare urinate on him, to be finally unable to control herself as he'd teased and fingered her. Even his cock inside her had added to the pleasure, though it was her squirming desperation that had turned him on, had his hips thrusting, snorting and huffing, that acrid flicker of the aroma of urine pulling at his nostrils.
He stayed that way for a few days, trying to focus on one of his part-time jobs -- he hadn't been able to land anything full-time yet, not after all his temp work -- but the words just would not appear on the screen before him in the order that he wanted them to.
All he could think of her was her struggles, how the whites of her eyes had shown as they rolled, her huffing passion, need rising, ploughing through her. She hadn't been able to control herself and, in a way, Gargath found himself in that position too, though in a different way.
He would never quite admit to himself what had him calling the number he's been given, however, whether he thought it was the right thing to do or not, pushing on, gritting his teeth.
"Good afternoon, Hanover Enterprises -- how can I direct you today?"
Gargath swallowed.
"Ah... Well... I'm..."
"Could you please speak up, sir? I'm afraid I can't hear you."
It felt like entirely the wrong kind of phone call to be making in bed with his softening cock lying against his thigh. Maybe the receptionist would think him some kind of perv. But he had to try...
"Victor... Mr Hanover... He told me to call." He took a breath, steadying himself. "He said to inform you of my name, that you would know to pass it on. He said...that he may have more work for me to do?"
He phrased it as a question when it should have been a statement, the stallion groaning and pressing his hand over his eyes, though he tried not to let his unrest show down the phone line. Maybe it was his recent orgasm or the fact that he had spent the day in hard manual labour, but the cogs in his brain just didn't seem to be working as he wanted them to.
"Ah, yes, I can of course pass that on. In fact, Mr Hanover informed me that I was to invite you in if you were to call. Would you be available for a meeting tomorrow at ten?"
Gargath sat up, his cock slipping over his thigh, still leaking fluid.
"What? So soon."
"That is if you're available, of course."
Of course, Gargath could only make himself available for such an offer at short notice, dressing up the best he could in a suit and tie, though it was a little obvious just how badly it fitted his broad shoulders. He built a lot of strength through the labour jobs that he drifted in and out of in contracting, though he couldn't have said that administration and data entry temp roles did him any better, leaving him sore in different ways. All that they had in common, however, was that they were not kind on the wallet, adding little to it while still seeming to demand too much.
Victor, however, was exactly as he remembered him, even if Gargath was well and truly out of place there, shifting in place, the skyscraper one that he would never honestly have expected to set hoof in -- unless he was working as a courier, perhaps.
Victor's suit was perfectly tailored to him and perfectly cut from the kind of expensive cloth that Gargath could never have afforded. Yet the stallion smiled more softly, easing the edges of tension between them, pouring Gargath a glass of water.
"I'd offer you a whisky but I'm sure you have other work to go to today after this meeting, it won't take long. You had a job at the construction site, right?"
Of course, Victor already knew everything about Gargath's jobs and where he was going, though he pretended not to for the sake of conversation, for loosening Gargath's tongue and putting him more at ease. The stallion accepted the water, drinking it a little too quickly, though the lack of a gag reflex stifled any choking reflex that may have been present from that part of his body.
"Ah, yes, it's at sixty-fourth street, they're nearly done with it now..."