Redd stumbled back to his office, nearly dropping the rest of his sandwich a couple times along the way. By the time he got to his door, the strange feelings subsided.
He didn't know what was coming over him… it was discomforting. But he wasn't going to make a fuss in the hallway. He couldn't bring more attention to it. This is a professional workplace, and there is work to be done.
That being said: he wasn't sure what work he'd do. The next program was scheduled for Friday, and it was Tuesday. He didn't need Grayson to receive any supplies until tomorrow, and Mr. Cowlin was out this week attending an association meeting. He had checked his emails already, and nobody called the desk phone anymore - unless they were trying to get a hold of the town barber and misdialed for some reason.
Heh. Guess it was an opportunity to putz around on company time.
He shut his office door and opened the web browser on his computer to stream some Flixnet shows. Nothing really piqued his curiosity, so he began to peruse his EweTube subscriptions.
"Wonder what the sports analysts are saying about the Bengal–"
Mmmf. That tingling feeling came over him again, and he felt it in his gut.
"Fuck…" he muttered. "Th' food that bad t'day?"
No… it was these little pressures below his waist belt. And in his thighs? Should he… Nothing more than that? Really… that's par for the course. Right.
He shook his head a little, and leaned back in his desk chair.
"I'm gettin' old. Even usual shit feels like shit." Blame it on that painting, heh.
Wait.
That's kind of a peculiar thought? But…
Maybe that painting wasn't so bad.
Smiling, he shook off his shoes and then his socks so he could rest his graying feet under his desk without worry. He couldn't stand on them for long like this, anyhow. He unpaused the Youtube video and continued munching on his home fries.
The sports analyst busted out laughing, so he rewound the video to catch what happened. It was something the co-anchor said - a strong dude in his mid-20's named Trav. He was a natural blonde, six foot something, well-fit for football. "Probably the kinda guy Grey wanks to," Redd chuckled. He picked the heels of his feet up from the floor to get more comfortable.
Redd's body tingled a little again, but he ignored it; he had to. He could ask his wife for advice on it later.
…That thought irked him, for reasons he couldn't fully comprehend.
But the talk show host began discussing next season's schedule, and he temporarily forgot his concerns. Then they went into an ad break for running shoes - God, were shoes that expensive!?! Thank the Lord he…
…didn't really… need?
Huh. He looked down and absentmindedly wiggled his right hooflets around. Then he set them down on the carpet.
Hmm.
His freshly ironed dress pants were starting to crimp at the seams, too. That was… to be expected at his siz– uhh, while sitting down and… well, things can change fast, I suppose. "Maybe I should get changed," Redd thought.
But we're at wor– umm, into what?
The sportscast came back, and the analyst's co-anchor launched into a deep-dive analysis of the upcoming draft class. Redd forgot about pants and intently listened. On this particular day Trav was wearing a white polo shirt and brown cargo shorts, which adequately showed off his well-tanned legs.
Redd huffed with jealousy. You had to admire his skin - because, uh… the thick pelt of hair on his own legs only made for uneven suntans.
Man… Trav was really passionate about football, and…
And he was so attractive when…
Oof. The crease in his pants had been rubbing against his ballsack all day. Now was not the place for…
But… his office door's locked. Nobody can see him through the glazed windows. Is that enough security?
He was behind a desk…
And… what about security? Who cares about security? This… is… fine…
He smirked a little, indiscriminately sliding his haunches further under the desk. Then he began imagining Trav in something sleazy… sexy.
Which was remarkably easy, but that troubled Redd for a split-second. It was as though there was someone or something he was neglecting. Something he wasn't paying enough attention to.
Work, of course. Then his body tingled, and he shrugged off those insecurities as human guilt.
"Pretty easy to let that side of his emotions take –"
Wait… side?
Yeah, what else would you call it? Instincts?
A voice in his head was nagging him along now: you're at work! Stop it! But it's… it's gotta be fine… right? Sometimes he gets horny at work. People should know that… know that about him.
He brushed off the strangely torn pieces of pant-like material from his muscular russet-furred thighs, and wrapped his hand around his 7-inch cock, giving it a bit of an encouraging tug. Hearing Trav's voice in the background made it easier to concentrate. He closed his eyes and imagined laying beside him in a quiet, outdoor space… Trav rubbing the inside of his thigh… playing with his leg fur…
Redd's 9-incher responded immediately, and he hummed with delight. Cupping his ballsack in his hand, he tilted his head back in the chair again and kicked his left hoof out, making impact with the wooden desk.
That made him giggle with delight. The implication that he may need his… that lov… ely female… love… co… worker to buy another desk for him soon. A problem for tomorrow, I guess! He wasn't getting any more work done today.
Hmm. Maybe in a previous life he woulda married her, Redd thought.
He heard the gray office chair creak a bit under the weight of… of his ass, so he stood up to shift it around, and immediately started falling forward. Fuck his poor balance! Luckily, he caught himself with his hands on top of his desk, cock half-way out of the… sheath.
Redd stood there horny and half-naked until he remembered, briefly, he was at work so…
None of that matters. Nobody else cares! "Too far in to stop anyway," he thought, humming again.
He sat back down on his blue bean-bag chair and let his imagination wander freely. It was gratifying, actually; he was so pent up. Towing this much ass around every day did nothing to improve his upper body physique; it all went to his legs. And it felt like he hadn't had a good jerk in days. His foot-long monster felt better than ever, so invigorated… and the extra tug he felt from the weight of his swinging leathery balls falling forward, had an obvious and tantalizing effect.
Redd let go of the desk, which was too short to stand behind anyway. He looked down at the beast in his hand: he was the master. This inhumane sex machine was everything. This was his territory, and he wanted to claim more territory for himself… prove it to the other… males…
…But Redd wondered why he'd want to shame a stallion, let alone his coworkers, with his horse-like cock. Wasn't it enough that… it… was it enough that… Well… was it enough?
What a question. Right now, of all times.
That's 'cause it had a ways to go… maybe. Horses take longer. Fourteen inches.
Yeah. He had just begun to realize… his full length.
He kept rubbing. He was an exhibitionist by nature. Just like the… one guy in that painting. They were always emasculating him at work about his features… sometimes? These were weird thoughts to have while horned up, Redd kidded, but sometimes instincts took him on weird journeys. Smiling again, he forced his memory back to his… barn fantasy with Trav.
When his cock thumped against his chest the first time, he knew he had reached the second stage. That he could reach it with his own hand… touching his medial ring: that was the sensitive part. Yes! He toyed with it… as long as he could… reach… though he wasn't able to play with his balls… like… full humans do.
Oomph. Sitting on this bean bag was alright, but he was a bodily man, and his… belly began pushing the desk toward the door.
Yeah, something felt a bit… puffy on his behind. Was that causing the tingly feelings? He never had enough space in this office, so maybe he needed to shift to the floor.
He turned around to investigate… and, oh… uh, it's a… it's just the… tail. Just his tail, hehe! Easy to forget about it sometimes.
Redd folded his legs beneath his lower abdomen. He couldn't help but giggle even more! This felt brazen, and yet natural, and yet… that seemed like overstating things, too. Wouldn't they know how much he fooled around by now? This was nothing new, and in this environment… I mean, he was surrounded by…
Huh. Again, it was like some lost soul in his mind was shouting obscenities, begging him to quit this debauchery and…
…he struggled to put the rest into words. Horny now; simplicities later. Just need some well-intended pushes from underneath his stomach. That force caused another thump of his cock against… his, well… lower…
He inhaled, and exhaled. He felt that air go deep and far inside him. His thoughts shifted away from thick horsey asses to something strangely human: please rub it again!
But… why that? No matter how far he… he could… couldn't ru… he never could… masterbate with his hands. Never could. He'd never given that much thought about that before.
But he could imagine what it'd feel like. What it'd feel like to have a… cute guy… rub his cock for him… tease the sheath a little….
Hhhhggh…. Redd's 20-inch horse cock was maddeningly erect now. He didn't even need Trav's voice droning in the background any more; he imagined all sorts of guys and… imagined the need to run into the back side of one of them... yeah, take them down with his weight. Force himself into them…
Take them for a ride? He exhaled with approval and his cock thumped harder into his lengthy torso. Since he was on the floor now, he rubbed the area where his chest met the light fur of his… chest. Some extra… new… his short forelegs wiggled toward the carpet. It seemed increasingly important to stop worrying about his office, and take a quick jog after this. What's a horse-man who doesn't use his horse legs, after all? Hff, an unbridled pony. No culture at all. Wonder if a full… human would get that joke.
His forelegs collided with something hard, so he scratched at the forelocks. Maybe some of the club's stallions could follow along. He never minded…
Maybe… Oooh! He just had the dirtiest thought. His tail wagged with approval.
On the topic of humans: he knew Grayson loved horses. I mean, everyone who works here likes horses; that ain't a secret. But with Grayson, he'd catch him… eyeing…
…When… far from behind. By no stretch of the imagination, he was checking out Redd's horse…
Yes. Redd's was the most in love with…
…with Redd. Who… wouldn't be? He took pride in… turning guys on.
He shook some last strange tingly sensation from the back of his shoulders, which let his mane rest better under his dress shirt. That was better; it was getting balmy in this rabbit hole of an office. He barely fit in here without moving things around, so it was nice to get a custom-built desk installed that didn't require a chair; he could just sit up, legs folded underneath his chest, and do his thing.
He undid the buttons of his white-collared dress shirt, and it felt really good. Then he rolled onto his side to… hehe, finish the job.
Grayson, that foolish boy. That's why he wanted to work here, wasn't it? If it weren't for that hag of a woman in concessions hiring him… cause, well, there weren't any other… men like… gay hor… umm, any taurs like him at work, after all. He had quite the special… job!
Redd giggled aloud, and his lower half rumbled with anticipation. Grayson was the key; he had to be close. He imagined the younger coworker with his own dress shirt, running gaily through a field, brushing Redd's flanks and kissing his –
"Oh, FUCK… oh, God!"
That's what did it; he couldn't stop it; he didn't even get a warning. He couldn't stop the torrent of come, his equine cock thumped hard into his belly.
His eyes rolled back in pleasure. He felt massive… for the first time, strangely enough. Like he was experiencing coming for the first time, all over again. He lasted… for minutes; it was incredible. It was beautiful, even.
Grayson was a catch, and he'd be… that painting. That had to be it. He bought that in admiration!
He was the one. Shit, why'd he keep that under wraps for so long? Yeah, he could have his way with the horses… but they couldn't talk back. He could have a human who'd fawn over him; it'd be great. And he'd be the one to kick things off between them.