A great vintage

by Josh Dugan

When a mysterious wine vendor gives you your change, he really means it.

I suppose I was feeling extra powerful that night, extra imaginative, extra sexy. I wanted him in the worst way, but I wanted us differently. I'm a strong guy, I'm athletic and young, I like playing hockey, I'm tough. He's my college- boy dream, so tall and good-looking; I love his beautiful face and his sweet body. I love his legs, too; I'm definitely a leg man.

I had planned a dinner with him for a long time, since I got a special bottle of wine to go with it. The guy who sold it to me, something of a mind reader (he was a palm reader on the side) seemed to know my wild secret inner thoughts, and he seemed especially excited to sell me the odd labeled bottle.

It was a somewhat abstract illustration of a field of flowers, with a handsome Grecian youth running through it.

You could make out the joyous boyish smile, the sweetness of the face, and there was something innocent but erotic about the beautiful body, visible through the flimsy toga, at once boyish and manly. He was obviously laughing and running through the colorful field, and the artist had successfully depicted his legs, gazelle-like in their gracefulness, running pell-mell through the flowers, by showing them in a kind of blur, even catching the flight of his beautiful feet by deft strokes of the brush.

I found myself lost and aroused for a moment, because through the eyes of my imagination I could almost make him out as four-legged, if I looked at the abstract brush strokes a certain way.

I don't know where I originally came across the thought, but at some point since I first fell for my college love, I had pictured his long-muscled, firm young legs as a foursome. He was, of course, beautiful as we was, with two of them, his handsome legs, fine ankles and perfect feet; I could drive myself wild at any time just imagining four of them on him—he would be awesome!

It would be just us, wild young human animals, a pair of centaurs but with four human legs—we'd be humantaurs. I, too—my strong young male legs would number four as well.

I could imagine how they'd feel, muscle on muscle, my back legs burdened with the warmth and weight of my front legs as I stretched them in front of me, say, while reading or watching TV; my front legs feeling the friendly contact of their back-leg partners, and I could imagine exactly how it would feel to stand on four of my strong, athletic male feet. I'd go barefoot for sure, naked for sure.

I would find him in bed asleep, the mounds in the blankets revealing extra legs warm beneath them, maybe three or four of his gorgeous long feet poking out from under the edges of the sheets and blankets. I would feel my own four legs wanting to quake with excitement as I worked the four of them to kneel me on the bed and bring me closer to him.

“Your change, sir.” The owner was smiling at me, handing me my change and the large bottle, in a neat brown paper bag. I was startled out of my reverie.

He smiled as I took my things, seeming to know my thoughts.

“It's a rare wine that you'll really like,” he smiled. “It has all the things the wine snobs love to talk about—a good bouquet, notes of oak, fruit, and cinnamon, full body, a deep color, and great legs,” he said, knowingly.

He was right.

We had worked together to make a wonderful dinner, and the wine had set it off perfectly. Although I first thought the bottle far too large, I was amazed that he kept asking for more of it, and I, too, enjoyed several glasses of it, both before and during dinner.

We laughed and talked and thoroughly enjoyed our meal, and he never looked handsomer or more desirable. Actually, we both felt like little boys joyriding in a pair of grown-up male bodies!

I could tell he was enjoying the way I looked as much as I enjoyed the way he did. We had more wine together through dessert, and even kissed the whipped cream off each others' lips, pouring each other more wine, and finally drinking wine from each others' mouths, laughing and having fun, so full of strength and humor from the marvelous wine!

Was it suddenly stuffy inside?

Nothing had changed, but it was a beautiful, balmy and breezy evening outside. We tore off our shirts and out we ran, wearing only shoes and shorts, he ahead of me, crazily carrying the large bottle, which still seemed plenty full! To the far edge of the lawn and through the pathway that led down the hillside, through trees and brambles we ran, gravity giving us speed and the wine giving us ease.

I could see his hair caressed by the balmy breeze as he effortlessly ran, looking back at me teasingly.

A bramble caught at his shorts and tore them—he yelled, but it was full of pleasure on that warm, windy night, and I nearly stumbled over his shoes where they lay in the path, where he had kicked them off.

The twilight was glowing orange and pink, deepening to lavender and purple as we seemed to float, running down the long, steep hillsides, him laugher echoing far ahead of me. As I saw him among the trees and bushes of the pathway downhill ahead of me, I realized his torn shorts were billowing free from him, nearly torn off.

I felt so powerful and strong, and I realized there was no one for miles but ourselves on this warm, wonderful evening.

Before I knew it, I had torn my shoes off, loving the freedom of my bare feet, and feeling my arms and chest and shoulders powerful and muscular against the cool zephyrs of the breeze, and perhaps encouraged by the wine, I even pulled off my shorts, and naked in the warm breeze, I ran like the wind!

I was so aroused, and against my hot legs and my enormous pulsing hardon, the wind was heaven.

“Help me!” he laughed, his erotic laughter driving me wild, as he ran and ran down the hillside pathway.

“I'll save you!” I cried, beating on my manly chest, and in my naked glory I seemed to fly on my legs, full of life and power.

He was down the hill and running shoulder-deep through the deep, flaxen grass of a field now, silken grass of shoulder height leaving a beautiful line where he parted it, and I could see his broad, muscular shoulders above the soft green of the tall field grass.

The earth was soft beneath my naked feet and the grass was cool and welcoming against my naked legs and torso, as I made my own swath through the field, effortlessly pulling along side him.

We were wordlessly wild and joyful, running alongside each other, rhythmically running in tune with each other.

He smiled and took a long pull from the bottle as he ran, holding my hand in his, and passed it to me to take a long pull, too.

It was delicious.

I emptied it, and let it fall soundlessly in the soft tall, cool grass, where I would reclaim it later as we retraced our steps.

With hands joined and the wind howling in our ears as we sped along together, we seemed to be galloping together though the soft shoulder-high grass, the grass hissing and swishing as our legs plunged through it, the cool of the tall grass kissing our sweating bodies and shoulders, as we came to the edge of the field and could see the sands of the beach ahead, the sun low, almost fully set on the darkening glow of the horizon.

And out we emerged from the cool of the grass to the soft sands of the beach and the refreshing sweetness of the sea breeze on our healthy, sweating naked bodies—I realized he too had ditched everything, just like I had.

And we both laughed and gasped as our hands locked tighter in amazement—we were both four legged, with double cocks! The wine! I realized what I had seen on the label!

Too full of the sweetness and fun of the wine to feel shock, we instead laughed and hooted with pleasure, realizing how sexy it was to have four legs! No wonder running was so effortless!

“Wooo-hooo!” he yelled, and I did the same, as we flew on our four legs across the sand and along the surf's edge, kicking up spray like a couple of young horses!

He was beautiful, more so than I could have imagined, so perfectly beautiful naked that his natural modesty was amazingly ennobled and complemented by his four beautiful legs and awesome double cocks; he moved with such an athletic, easy grace on four of the most handsomely shaped long-muscled male legs anyone would ever hope to see, smiling at me with eyes that beckoned and played at the same time.

I laughed, feeling my full strength, grabbing his strong, narrow waist and pulling it next to mind as our multiple legs worked beneath us, carrying us along, and down through the cooling waters we ran.

I pulled him to me fully, letting both of us stumble on our four legs, my four legs and his tangling comfortably as we fell sweetly together into the welcoming rush of the sea, cooled and caressed by its powerful tides on our hot, strong young bodies. And there, sometimes with feet touching the ground, sometimes floating freely, sometimes being tumbled onto the shore, we loved like the two beautiful animals we were.

The tang of sea salt seasoned our kisses, and his smile was at once sweet and salty against my lips, as the salt water of the sea bouyed us in its tides, some of our legs interlocking or sliding among each other as we kissed and as our bodies took possession of each others'.

As we kissed and enjoyed each other, we allowed ourselves to be gradually carried to the shallows, relaxing in the shallowest waters on the wet sands.

Between my front legs and back legs I realized anew that I had two enormous male organs for him, and with his four legs spread he welcomed both of my aching, aroused organs into both of his own two firm, welcoming asses, and we mated for hours through the night, till the moonlight sparkled on us and sprinkled diamonds on the calming surface of the quieted sea.

I barely remember the long and languid naked four-legged walk back up the hill together, but we seemed to float uphill on our four legs, pausing now and then to let me nourish myself with both of his massive, abundantly engorged penises. I feasted on his hot, pulsing love, and he feasted on mine.

How I buried myself in his four legs, making him laugh and bringing him to jolting spurts of splattering orgasm again and again as we let our four legged bodies couple again and again!

And there the next morning, as I awakened, by my side beneath the blankets of the soft, welcoming bed, was him sleeping form, the mounds of the blankets hinting discreetly at the four long, awesome male legs of his that nestled beneath them, glimpses of the four handsome, long male feet beneath the edges of the blankets.

I pulled him to myself, and his four long, gentle male legs nestled with my own muscular foursome. I kissed his beautiful lips, and he wrapped his four legs around me again. I couldn't have imagined it better.

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