Fuck it all." Duke roar to the empty hallway of the motel, his voice echoing off the the cracking plate paint and the concrete of the parking lot.
Like most Florida motels, this sleazy "Bed and Breakfast" was ranch style; one single long hallway that ran all the way down a strip of dark gray highway. A squat parking lot with hardly enough spaces for all the quests separated the road and the motel strip. At one end there was a pool bathed in the bright summer moon - normal Duke would be worried about alligators, but seeing as he had recently become a hulking 260 pound minotaur he didn't let it concern him. The August humidity beat down on the night, cicadas crying out to the moon. It was 3 o'Clock in the morning, and everything living had gone to bed except for the odd couple outside room 138.
Duke slide the plastic keycard in and out of the lock again with a frustrated sigh. These damned key cards never work, he missed it when doors had keys that turned. Plastic nonsense was a bunch of bullshit, and he knew damn well what came out his bareass. This was so aggravating, all he wanted to do was plow his buddy's sweet ass till the springs on the bed gave out. All fucking night baby, his balls slamming into that taint and leaving marks from their heft.
He bet Thomas bleated. Dude looked like a screamer.
And that was the problem with everything being freaking plastic. If he had a key there would be no way he'd be stuck rocking his cock and bare hairy pits to the world, damp from the Alligator-faggot Florida humidity. It was hot as balls in the motherfucking concrete swamp of a motel parking lot. Sweat beaded up between his shoulders and rolled in rivers down his back, pooling above his ass crack. He could feel the perspiration slip under his thick bull tail - which slapped aimlessly at the mosquitos that certainly weren't helping the situation - are roll down his taint and into his dank bull's eye. Wiffs of his dry pit stank waft up to his new bull nose. He snorts in his own manly bull musk, and licks his lips, his thick bovine tongue lapping against the cold metal of his nose ring.
Duke was getting drunk on his own dank man stank, his horse-sized third leg sporting a fat chubby.
The beefy bullman got a hint of his broseph Thomas' manly scent too. The satyr was much more human than Duke, and had a softer, sweeter tone to his sweat. While Duke was dark and lusty, Thomas smelt to him like a deep earthy spring, or rain after fall, with just a hint of a guy's jockstrap thrown in there. His goat pride was standing proud in the dense Alligator-faggot Florida humidity, and it smelled riper than Duke's own farmstud love-cannon. But Thommy had a strong, handsome face that belonged on a Greek Hero - and he smelled like the forest. His bare human chest flawless tawny skin pulled taunt across rippling young muscle. An adorable little goat tail spread Thomas' muscular ass cheeks so that his smooth pink pucker winked as his cock bobbed in the air. His goat legs were a golden blonde, like his hair and pits, and it was soft and curly and well groomed.
But his beastial cock screamed at Duke's snorting nostrils. The Billy Satyr arosing a dark lust in the Bull Minotaur.
Duke's heavy foot-long schlong writhed between his legs and glomped out a bead of precum. He liked his lips at the thought of that hairy ass sliding over his massive bull cock. His fist sized sac ached, sloshing with bullseed as the minotaur took another impatient swing with the plastic card. Thomas could practically hear the magnetic strip being torn off.
"Stop, Duke. Let me try." The satyr offered, deftly plucking the card from Duke.
He shoulder the brute aside from the doorframe, his tail flicking eagerly above his tail hole as his goat pride swung his a bounce against his taunt stomach. Thommy slid the plastic keycard gently through the lock. The light flicked green and the handle swung open.
"There you homo oaf, so full of bullshit can even operate a fucking door, you stupid -"
Thomas' rant was cut short as Duke invaded his mouth with his thick bull tongue. Salvia dripped out of the corners of Thomas' mouth and dripped down his chin.
The door to room 138 blamed shut, the deadbolt turning, as Duke began to force his bull cock raw into Thommy's tight goaty butt.
Duke was right, Tommy bleated.
He was a screamer.
Not that anyone was the wiser, every living thing save for the cicada's was asleep while Duke road Tommy like the faggot whore he was, the slutty satyr bitch moaning as two feet of bull cock pummeled past his sphincter. He came twice as his daddy bull pumped his guts full of hot sticky bullseed.