The son of the father

by brazboy

 Everyone in Brazil knows what happens to the lover of a Catholic father—they become the headless mule, a cursed being whose body resembles that of a mule, and who has fire instead of a head. But what happens to the child of such a sinful union?

Added: Feb 2023 7,281 words 977 views 4.7 stars (3 votes)


Five friends were relaxing at an almost deserted beach in the late afternoon. Two of them were laying on the sand, the third was standing up and looking at the water, while the fourth and fifth were both seating on beach chairs.

 “I don’t buy it,” said the one standing, opening up a can of beer he picked from the cooler. “Are you really saying you have never imagined what Iara would look like naked?”

“Not really,” said one of the two laying on the sand, his golden skin bathed by the afternoon sun. “I’m not sick like you. When I hear folk stories, I don’t imagine what the characters would be like naked.”

The two guys sitting on the beach chairs exchanged looks.

“Not even stories like the Boto?” asked the taller of them.

“Yeah,” replied the other one. “Imagine how amazing that’d be. He’s a shape shifter, so I guess he can control what his body looks like… any part of his body. That’s quite interesting.”

“Meh,” responded the one with golden skin. “I don’t really find the idea of a shape shifter going from village to village impregnating women all that interesting.”

Then, a big dark hand fell on his abs: it was the hand of the other man who was laying on the sand, just besides him.

“Well, imagine the boto were gay then,” he said, slowly; and slowly his hand also moved further south. The darker skinned man then smiled, feeling his mate’s growing cock stretching his speedos to the point of almost reaching his touch.

“Well, I don’t know about that,” responded the golden-skinned man, rather flustered.

Joaquim went to the well in the middle of the night, despite his better judgment, because his mother needed water to cook and they hadn’t gotten enough earlier during the day. It was not too late, however, and the moon was shining bright outside, so his mission shouldn’t be particularly difficult or dangerous.

Joaquim got his bucket and walked outside of their house, towards the large well in the center of the big square in the middle of their town. Slowly, Joaquim’s eyes adjusted to the darkness, and he walked more and more confidently towards the well, while noticing the dim lights coming from the houses around the town—not enough to really do much, but adding to the festival of small tickling lights on the sky which brightened his path.

Joaquim smiled, seeing the large white and blue church facing the main square—the bright colors reflecting some of the moon’s grey light. He got to the well, and threw one of the buckets in—he started pulling it out to get some water, basically making the only noise he could hear other than the wind and the frogs in the distance. His thick arms were tired after a day’s work, but he was still more than strong enough to easily pull the rope and the water-filled bucket attached to it.

Then he heard something else—the sound of a horse galloping faraway coming from behind him.

He found that a little strange, and a bit creepy, but tried to ignore the sound of hooves hitting the stones as it “might be a pig… running really fast, or something.” He continued pulling the bucket up under the moonlight, feeling some small drips of sweat forming in his forehead. Soon, however, he noticed the sound was becoming louder and louder, as if it were approaching the very square where he stood—and then he started getting a little more scared, and thus he picked up speed in his pulling.

It is true that Joaquim was not the credible type who believed in stories of werewolves and ghosts, but he had heard the stories of the headless mule roaming around town at night while at the market only last weekend. They said it burned fine young lads like himself, leaving only a hill of ash behind, and he couldn’t help but tremble a little in the legs: he decided to do his work faster so he could go back home—not out of fear, but precaution. Yet, duty was first, and he continued.

Nonetheless, the sound of galloping became louder and louder, even as Joaquim transferred water from the bucket attached to the well to his own. It was less water than he had wanted to bring, but this would be enough, wouldn’t it? Better than leaving behind a corpse, he thought, holding his bucket with his hand and turning around, decided to go back home.

That is when, however, he saw the figure coming his way from afar: a huge horse, either black or gray or another dark color—that is difficult to distinguish at night—who instead of a horse’s head had a human torso, atop which laid a human-like head with fiery hair covering their face as to become unidentifiable. The creature was both horrific and enchanting—majestic and dreadful. Joaquim’s eyes bulged and the light provided by the creature’s fire burned its likeness on his mind: the creature’s muscles bouncing up and down as it galloped, it’s hair of fire burning in the night’s sky. Joaquim’s legs became soft, with fear, and his cock a little bit harder, strangely enough.

That sight was enough for Joaquim to drop the bucket, spilling all the water he had collected, and ran away towards his house which, unluckily for him, was exactly in the same direction the creature was coming from. Joaquim then decided to turn around and run the other way, trying to get as far as possible from the creature, but the sound of its hooves hitting the stones told him the undeniable truth: the beast was faster than him, and as such it was approaching him fast. That is, until the sound stopped—and, momentarily, Joaquim almost stopped to look back, thinking that maybe (hopefully) he was getting crazy, that it had been a nightmare and the creature was gone.

Such hopes lasted only until the galloping re-started, and as such Joaquim didn’t even stop running. Soon, it was not only his ears which gave him the feared information: his eyes now could see his shadow growing ahead of him, brightened by the creature’s fire. He could also see the red light of the fire on the creature’s head brightening the ground around him, similar to a large bonfire. The thing, the thing was too close—and approaching! But Joaquim didn’t stop—he didn’t want to give up on his life, even if he were to die, he’d die running.

“Se ficar o bicho come, se correr o bicho pega,” he remembered the old saying, using all his willpower, all his energy, to try to run faster. And he was running fast—incredibly fast, for a human. His step had become so long he was almost jumping, which he above average height made quite an amazing sight. He grunted, panted, overexerting himself due to the adrenaline rush. “It will get me if I stay, it will catch me if I run,” he repeated it to himself, frantically.

But the monster then overtook the lad, and in fact stopped in front of him, forcing Joaquim to suddenly halt and take a look at the creature’s whole body once more—now from up close. Easily visible in the night, as it was illuminated by the beat’s fiery hair, the creature’s body was impressive and almost radiant. Joaquim, although he was filled with terror, had to appreciate that the creature’s horse body looked like one of the pure-bred stallions that the richest noblemen rode; it was his human torso, however, which attracted most attention: it was beautifully sculptured. The creature’s abs were cut like stone; their pectorals were broad and plump, their arms thick and powerful. Joaquim had seldom seen a human body quite that… perfect? It was almost like a creation of the devil to tempt young men like him to the sinful path.

And then Joaquim looked further up, above the creature’s neck—there he saw its head. It was, in reality, the only part whose features Joaquim couldn’t discern very well, as it was covered in flickering red and yellow fire.

“You dropped this,” said the creature, with his deep velvet voice, extending its hand towards Joaquim, who now realized the creature held his bucket. He took a step back. “It is yours, isn’t it?” asked the creature, and Joaquim opened his mouth, but remained silence.

“What are you?” he asked, impolitely, and the creature didn’t respond. Instead, it threw the bucket towards Joaquim, who caught in the air.

“I think you mean ‘thank you’,” the creature replied.

“T-thank you?” said Joaquim.

“Better now,” responded the creature, and its fire grew, covering all the way to his pecs, proudly, seemingly satisfied. It was warm, Joaquim now realized. Like a fireplace during a cold night. His eyes took in the creature’s image for a third time, and he suddenly realized he had lost an important detail before: right there where the beast’s abs ended where its torso joined with its horse body, there laid resting the longest, largest cock Joaquim had ever seen, atop the roundest, fullest set of balls he could even imagine.

Joaquim felt himself getting hard, but he regained control and shook his head, cleaning his sinful mind. He then looked back up at the creature’s face and, now that his fear was slowly vanishing—for some weird reason he could not quite understand—he returned to his usual self. As such, Joaquim smiled and bowed a little.

“Thank you…. Sir. For picking up my buck,” he said, and the creature didn’t respond. It trotted around him for a while.

“So, you were picking water at the well, right?” asked the creature, and Joaquim nodded positively. “All right. I will help you, then. It is not safe to be out at this hour, not all of us are this kind to the likes of you,” the creature completed, and Joaquim, confused and not knowing how to reply, just thanked it again. He was even more confused, however, when the creature extended him its hand.

“Come on, mount me,” the creature said, and Joaquim’s brain stopped for a second. The creature then laughed. “Or we can walk back if you’d prefer. But you have run quite far.”

And Joaquim then realized that it was true; he had run almost to the other side of their small town, and it would take them some good 10 minutes to walk back to the main square. He then decided, against his better judgment, to take the creature’s hand and using it as a support, mount it with a powerful jump. The creature clicked its tongue and seemed amused.

“Are you a good rider?” the beast asked. Joaquim, his legs around the creature’s body, now closer than ever to its fire, smiled before he replied.

“Who isn’t?” and the creature simply ran away, back towards the well in the main square, letting Joaquim be amazed by the experience of riding a magical beast. As he rode, he also noticed the fire touching his skin—and yet, it didn’t burn. It just felt nice, warm and gentle—weirdly, it felt almost familiar. Soon, as the creature ran through the small streets of the town, Joaquim felt the need to embrace its torso so he wouldn’t fall. He did so, and he was surprised by how nice it was to feel the creature’s muscles between his arms.

The creature, meanwhile, surprised by the sudden hug from the back, actually blushed under all that fire—unbeknownst to Joaquim—and its front cock started getting thicker and longer, as blood flowed into it. The creature ran a little slower, as if trying to extend that nice moment of human touch against its skin, while cursing its body’s and its dick’s reaction to the slight human attention.

Soon, they arrived back at the well and Joaquim dismounted from the centaur, and proceeded to throw the bucket back into the well to get himself some water. The creature, however, didn’t abandon him there, and instead helped him pull the bucket up using the ropes attached to it. That brought the creature’s hardening front cock embarrassingly close to Joaquim’s body.

“Thanks for the help again,” said Joaquim, taking the bucket full of water and emptying it on his own larger bucket, and then throwing the former back in the well in order to get more water. “I didn’t realize…huh… creatures like you could be so nice.”

“We can be nice when we want to, it is just that most of us don’t,” responded the centaur, and Joaquim looked up towards his face—it was still covered by fire, and thus, indecipherable. His cock, however, down under, was almost fully hard, and stood like a white elephant between them—demanding an attention they were both unwilling to give.

“Do you often feel the need to be nice towards humans?” asked Joaquim, slowly, biting his lip as he pulled the rope. The centaur looked down towards him, more than able to appreciate his face’s nice features, and the muscles of his arms and pecs bulging and flexing as the lad worked.

“I do feel a connection to humans, as both my father and my mother were humans,” said the creature, also pulling the rope to help Joaquim, even as its dick hardened.

“Oh, really?” the smaller but still large man asked, rather curious and startled. “I didn’t know that. I suppose they were… surprised, when you were born,” he commented, measuring his words. The centaur laughed.

“My father was surprised. My mother had become a headless mule, however, so she wasn’t exactly shocked,” the creature explained, amused, while its fire undulated around its head and upper body. The heat emanating from it reaching Joaquim, who looking to the side could see the creature’s hard and now slightly wet human cock.

And then, distractedly licking his lips, Joaquim pulled the bucket out of the well.

“So you are a creature of sin,” Joaquim said, thinking of its large cock. But when he heard himself, he wanted to kick himself in the face as he had no idea how he managed to say something this preposterous! He didn’t want to offend the creature, and the one who was sinful was him, not the beast! He thought quickly, trying to find of a way to apologize to the creature, but it responded before he could.

“I am,” it said, and Joaquim then looked up from his bucket towards the creature’s body once more.

“Is that how you came to me? Because I am also a sinner?” Joaquim asked, and the creature laughed.

“All humans are sinners. In that you are like any other human,” the creature replied. Joaquim didn’t bat an eye before replying, however.

“That is not true. I am burdened by a special sin, like your father,” said Joaquim. “Well, not quite like him, but similar,” he completed, eying the creature’s cock. He was never one to reveal himself like that, but now he did it almost naturally. Maybe it was the adrenaline, maybe the centaur’s fire, or maybe it was just the perception of inconsequence to his actions—something had awakened a lust in him which had until then kept contained, and he was now just going with it.

The creature moved to the side, its large, now completely hard cock at a 20 degrees angle from its torso bobbing as it did so. Some droplets of its precum flew everywhere.

“I would love to give you what you want, trust me,” responded the creature, eyeing the fine young man. “But if you consume something from me you’ll have to join my world, and you won’t be able to live like a normal person anymore,” it completed. Joaquim picked up the second bucket full of water and held it on his hands, thinking a little as he looked to the muscular centaur in front of him.

“I see,” he said, and then emptied the other bucket of water on his own larger container. “Must be hard,” he said, then looking to the centaur’s front cock, which seemed—well, moist. Shiny, reflecting the beast’s fire like the moon reflected the sun’s. Looking at it, Joaquim felt a desire he hadn’t yet known of.

“It isn’t for me, but it is for you. You’d better go back home and just think of this as if it were a dream,” said the centaur, almost ready to gallop away, when Joaquim threw the bucket back into the well, raised his arms and took the centaur’s large front cock in his hands.

“If this is a dream, then I should make it my own and enjoy it,” said the lad, then smiling. “It should be fine as long as none of it lands on me, right?” he asked, that sentence filled with meaning—basically, he was asking for consent, permission, acceptance. He wanted to be told “it’s fine.”

The centaur was completely taken aback when Joaquim’s hands took his manhood and pressed strongly around it—driven as much by lust as determination. Suddenly, the magical being felt a bolt of desire, but also vulnerability. He wanted release so much, and he wanted Joaquim to deliver it—but he should contain himself. Yet—wasn’t Joaquim right? It should be okay as long as Joaquim didn’t consume any of his cum. And so he nodded—and although his face was covered in flames, Joaquim saw it and started stroking the large cock in front of him.

Joaquim stroked the large rod with passion, sliding his hands up and down the shaft and using the centaur’s foreskin to also massage the head of its cock. He picked up speed, and thus the centaur grunted, feeling the smaller man’s warm and violent touch with increasing emergency providing him growing amounts of stimulation and pleasure. It wanted to cry, call Joaquim by the name, but it held that need in.

Joaquim continued to stroke, using all his strength to do what he knew made a hand job even better: keeping the pressure at a maximum, and playing with the speed—up, and then down again, just so the creature would emit a flustered sound when he slowed his hands and then picked up pace. Fortunately, the creature was enjoying it, and so it gave Joaquim command of its own body, allowing him to do as he pleased—the only thing he couldn’t do, that he had to remember himself not to do, was to fall into the temptation of taking the large mushroom head in his mouth. Even as it became wetter with precum, even though it was so large and hot against his palm.

And large it was: the centaur’s cock was maybe twice the size of Joaquim’s growing hardon—something between 40 and 50cm, he thought. More than enough space for both his hands, and girthier enough that he had trouble holding it and keeping it within his grip. And yet he managed it—the creature panted, it howled in pleasure with such a loud voice he feared attracting attention from some of the villagers inside their houses. But such attention never came—who’d go check a weird magical howl of pleasure in the town’s main square in the middle of the night?

The other sound that dominated their exchange was that of the centaur’s large front balls hitting his horse body as Joaquim stroked his whole length—one loud slap after the other, like an ancient battering ram slamming against the fortified door of a sieged walled city. He, Joaquim himself, didn’t make any sounds, even if his hardening dick was certainly going to need his attention later on.

Soon, the centaur moaned deeply and its cock bolted, coming copiously. The cum flied everywhere, falling on the ground and on the centaur’s torso. Joaquim was going to direct it to the side opposite of him, but he wasn’t fast enough, and so some ended on his arms as well as his hands—although not on his face, luckily enough. During the explosion, the amount of fire coming out of the centaur’s head also increased, reaching Joaquim with its warmth, comforting and cozy.

The beast’s orgasm lasted for a while, after which the centaur was moaning. Joaquim let go of the creature’s cock, and then the softening organ fell in its half-hard state, slapping the beast’s body—the rest of the magical creature’s liquids slowly dripping from its slit onto the ground.

“Wash your hands carefully,” said the creature, before taking a second to recover its composure. “But… I have to say this was very enjoyable. Thank you for it,” it added.

“I enjoyed it too,” said Joaquim, honestly, and then he roughly cleaned the excess cum out of his hands and arms and picked up his bucket of water, so he could go back home. “Will I see you again?” he asked to the creature, which didn’t respond for a while.

“You should hope not,” the creature replied. “But maybe so, if you come out at the wrong time again,” it said, and then it turned around and galloped away. This time, the sound of a hard cock slapping against the beast’s underbelly joined the noise of hooves hitting the stones of the street as it went away. It was dark outside, but looking at it as it disappeared in the distance Joaquim thought he could see a second horse-like cock between the creature’s hinder legs bobbing up and down furiously.

He then went back home, carrying his heavy water bucket with his two hands. As he thought about this incredible experience—which he’d keep a secret, but cherish for a long time—he didn’t notice one small drop of cum falling from his fingers into the water.

When Joaquim arrived home his mother chastised him for taking too long to get the water, and said that dinner was almost ready.

“And your father wants to talk to you! It seems that he got you a piece of land in Coronel Antunes’s farm,” she said, before seeing all the sweat on his body and feeling particularly disgusted about his slimy hands. “But go clean yourself first! You look disgusting—were you running out there or what?”

Joaquim apologized to his mother, telling her that yes, he had run as he thought he had seen something strange hiding in the shadows. That was enough for her to make the sign of the cross and tell him to avoid going out at night, and taking a torch with him next time regardless of the moon. He nodded and agreed with her.

He then took the bucket with water to the courtyard, and used a small container to take some water out of it. He did not notice under the dim light of the moon, but the water he took came with a small droplet of white centaur cum floating on it. He drank one and then two and three gulps of it, until his small container was empty. He then sighed and drew a bit more water to wash his hands, his arms, and his face. Once he was reasonably clean, he thought about this plot of land in Coronel Antunes’s farm—that was a good opportunity for him to start life, but it meant leaving the town and, naturally, having to find a wife soon enough.

“Well,” he thought to himself, “I can think about that later. For now I’ll just go and talk to father.”

The centaur ran far away from town, his bothersome rearcock bouncing and hitting his underbelly as he galloped, until he reached the shores of the large Aguaratu river—by this time, the cold air of the night had allowed him to recover some of his rationality, but memories of being jacked off by Joaquim swarmed around his mind, making him hornier and getting his front cock to also regain its traditional hardness.

As the magical being reached the shore of the river and found it apparently empty, he sighed—he could hear now only the flow of the water and the gusts of the wind. The only light around were the stars, the moon, and his own fiery hair.

“Damn, I should get this one down before Antônio gets here, at least, or I’ll never hear the end of it,” he said to himself, taking his front cock with his two hands and cursing his body for making it impossible for him to relieve his rearcock by himself.

The centaur then starts beating his meat, stroking it harshly from head to root—images of Joaquim jacking him off invade his mind, and he shudders, releasing all the pent-up frustration from their earlier encounter. As such, he moans loudly, he pants with no regards for anything other than externalizing his pleasure and vocalizing his displeasure, as his hands squeeze his manhood while his imagination pictures it as being Joaquim’s. Suddenly, however, the centaur feels a powerful slap in his ass, and absolutely surprised, he reared, lifting his monster backcock like a spear pointing upwards as his front hooves reach for the sky while his frontcock remained strongly held in place by his hands.

“Dude, why are you so surprised?” asked the newcomer, which had appeared from the waters of the river and had silently walked to the centaur as his attention focused on masturbating. “Were you jacking off?” the new comer asked, a little surprised. He was a tall, handsome man whose tight body was completely naked and dripping wet—his skin was light, almost pinkish, and the only piece of clothing he was wearing was his signature straw-hat. Despite coming straight from the cold water, his dangling soft cock was pretty sizeable—about 20cm, all covered in abundant foreskin.

“Yes…” responded the centaur, shyly.

“Wait,” said the newcomer, walking around the large horse-like body of his mate and then inhaling some air, as if trying to sense something. He raised his eyebrows and suddenly raised his hand towards the abs of the fiery centaur, feeling his drying cum on the creature’s hard muscles with his fingers. As the newcomer’s rubbed the centaur’s abs, the back of his hands also touched the centaur’s own hands, which were still tightly holding around his large cock.

“Did you already cum?” the newcomer asked, even more surprised. “In this form, before coming here? Is that why you are late?” He sounded almost offended by the idea.

“Well, didn’t you arrive after me?” asked the centaur, rather defensively, finally letting go of his erection. Now that is was free from his tight grip, the centaur’s front cock was producing a continuous stream of pre. The other man laughed in response.

“I was waiting for you in the river; did you really not notice? What the hell is going on with you, dude? You are not behaving normally,” he sighed, then looking down under his friend’s horse body. “Is it because you are horny? I can take care of that for you.”

The centaur moved a bit, embarrassed, revealing some unusual discomfort. The newcomer didn’t behave any differently than he would normally, but he did mentally register his mate’s extraordinary reactions.

“Well, yes. Actually, something very weird happened today,” the centaur confessed. “I saw Joaquim taking water from the well when I was coming here, and he ran away when he saw me. He dropped his bucket as he fled, so I picked it up and took it to him and… well, this happened,” the creature explained, his hands now pointing towards his hard cock and the cum on his abs. The man with the hat looked up towards the centaur’s long fiery hair, which seemed to be burning unusually bright. It now didn’t cover his handsome face anymore, and as such his features could be easily discerned under the bright light—thick lips, a long nose and a well-defined jaw; deep eyes with a strong brow above them.

As he heard his friend, however, the man with the straw-hat was rather shocked—and didn’t really know how to react to that story.

“So… just say something,” requested the centaur, after a few second of awkward silence between them.

“Did he jack you off, then? Is that what you are saying that happened?” asked the man, taking his hat off his head and revealing a large blowhole around the middle of his skull. The centaur nodded and the other man then rested the hat on a rock. “Did you reveal yourself to him, Pedro?” he then completed his question, ever more slowly.

Pedro shook his head. “I also made sure he didn’t share our mysteries,” replied the centaur, his voice apparently shaken and undecisive. “I don’t know what to do though. Fuck, seeing him in that situation, and the way he talked to me—it is like the devil himself was testing me and I feel for its tricks. Worse yet, he wanted me, I swear he did, Antônio. Joaquim did want me. He was the one who took my cock in his hands,” vented the amazingly handsome centaur, wiggling his large muscular arms around as if trying to make his argument more convincing.

Antônio just sighed. “Well, what is done is done. Just try to forget it now, because when the sun rises tomorrow you’ll turn back to your human self and even if he doesn’t forget about what happened tonight, he will not recognize you during the day, and you obviously can’t go after him at night,” said Antônio. Noticing how his friend seemed a bit confused, shaken, and bittersweet due to all that was happening, though, the muscular, naked, and well-hung pink-skinned lad smiled. “But don’t think too hard about that now. Let the river carry your worries, my friend! Are you not feeling horny? I can take care of it before we go meet Papão and the others. How would you like that?”

Pedro looked to the sides and then, feeling both his cocks hard and wet, craving release—and feeling his rearcock particularly needy, as his rearballs were incredibly full—he smiled a little.

“Would you?” asked Pedro, and Antônio nodded.

“I do anything for my friends,” he replied, and then his skin started moving around, as if small ants were crawling under it—his form was slowly changing. Antônio was becoming more and more muscular as his mass changed, and where he had possessed two arms now four even thicker appendages were growing. Pedro looked at his mutating friend, as watching him change was one of the sexiest things one could witness in this world, in his experience.

As Pedro watched, his friend became bulkier and sexier; his own soft cock lengthened from about 20cm to 25, 30, and then 35 centimeters, before it even started to harden. Antônio’s muscles were now not only perfectly defined, but so big that each of his pairs of arms rubbed against each other, as did his legs and pecs, even at rest. His muscles were so overbearing, so packed, that if the lad tried to close his arms now he’d have to use much of his strength to keep his muscles contained.

Even though Antônio gained a lot of muscle, however, his height grew by only about 3-4cm, and soon Antônio’s body stopped changing. The form in which Antônio found himself now was Pedro’s favorite, and he knew what it meant. He looked for a tall and sturdy tree, and went towards it. When he got close enough, Pedro reared and quickly used his front legs to support himself standing against the tree—that position revealed his rearcock and forced it upwards, making it occupy almost all the distance between his body and the tree, and keeping it at the perfect height for Antônio’s new reach (which was entirely by design).

As Pedro stood up against the tree with his front legs, his rearcock throbbed, hungrily, waiting for attention.

Antônio then moved closer to his friend, grabbed his enormous meter-and-a-half long horsecock with his four arms, hugging it tightly between his powerful muscles. He then proceeded to start stroking it, using his whole body so as not to tire his arms too much. As Antônio masturbated Pedro’s rearcock with growing speed, his watermelon-sized balls swayed back and forth, hitting Antônio’s arms at times, as well as Pedro’s back legs.

Pedro loved the feeling of his back cock being manhandled like that, his balls dancing around, hitting everything around them—including his two legs, which were now carrying almost all his body weight. He couldn’t help but imagine Joaquim instead of Antônio there, though, under him, taking care of his needs with passion—or, rather, imagine his face on Antônio’s amazing four-armed muscular body. Oh, wouldn’t that be simply perfect? Just the idea made precum flow from the centaur’s cockslit, lubricating Antônio’s stroking efforts.

Imagining Joaquim in Antônio’s stead, however, was that much easier due to the fact that when he did look down Pedro could hardly see Antônio’s face, as it hid behind his own massive horse body and as Antônio’s attention was focused on his immense cock. Antônio then grunted because of his efforts—he felt his own large naked cock becoming harder and harder, almost so large in this state that it got in the way of his swift movements up and down Pedro’s shaft. Antônio didn’t mind his growing size, of course, as—being a shapeshifter—the size of his rod was one of the things he could control at will (although he lost a bit of the control over himself when he was too horny, he didn’t consider that a major issue).

While Antônio stroked Pedro’s cock, and slowly grew his own changing hardon, Pedro moaned, loudly, the whole time—the centaur growing increasingly noisy as he approached the point of no return. His hands were now also on the tree, as he tried to hold his body and mind steady despite the pleasurable electricity flowing throughout his body.

“Want me in your ass? I can reach it if I grow my cock a little bit more,” offered the boto, while jerking Pedro. The centaur, however, could hardly think about that proposition before he felt Antônio’s lengthening and thickening hard cock rubbing against his rear legs, and then up against his ass.

“Daaaaamn…. I am going to burst,” Pedro alerted. “Oh fuuuck! Fuuuuuck!” he then continued, as his friend’s immense expanding cock barely rubbed against his asshole, as if knocking on its door. And then the magical beast came violently, his balls contracting to deliver violent white blasts against the tree. “Yeaaaaaa-hmmmmm,” cried the centaur, as one, three, five, seven explosions hit the bark of the innocent plant—more than a dozen jets of hot juice could have been counted before his release turned into a stream dribbling down the softening horsecock. Antônio, who was still hugging the ejaculating member, was now also sticky and dirty, as was Pedro’s underside and, of course, the whole side of the tree the cockhead had been aimed at.

“My God, that was a big one,” noted Antônio, impressed, letting go of his friend’s cock once it was not frantically shooting hot seed everywhere—his own member still hard. As Pedro moved down from the tree, Antônio’s long cock was now being pressed down by the centaur’s large weight, rubbing against the centaur’s belly and sending a wave of painful pleasure through the boto’s body. “Awn, dude, common! Be careful with my cock!”

“I really needed that,” said Pedro, his torso wet with his own sweat and his lungs still catching their breath. Surprised, Antônio noticed his friend’s front cock was still hard, although the centaur’s rearcock was indeed deflating—as it lost rigidity, it also came surprisingly close to dragging on the ground, but missed it albeit just barely.

“I’m glad you feel better now, but we should wash ourselves before we go meet Papão. Some cold water will also help me… come down,” said Antônio, and Pedro blushed a little.

“Do you want… help with that?” he asked , feeling a little compelled to offer a hand. Antônio shook his head, as his cock shrank to a more manageable—albeit still hard and long—size.

“If we do that, we’ll be here the whole night helping each other, and the Bicho-Papão will come and kill us,” Antônio responded, with a wink, as he walked back into the river where he plunged, while his third and fourth arms shrank back to oblivion. Pedro nodded and also followed him down into the water—its coldness against the warmth of his body causing his skin and fur to bristle, the fire on his head actually growing as he felt satisfied with that night dip.

Soon his friend came over closer to Pedro to help him scratch his dense cum from his underside and clean his fur, while Pedro used his hands to wash his abs and pecs, as well as his frontcock. As Antônio’s head came out of the water, water exploded from his blowhole and hit Pedro in the face. Before they were both clean and out of the water, however, a creature of pitch-black skin, golden hair and wearing a green tunic appeared on the shore walking towards them, coming from upstream. It carried a big sack on its back.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” said the creature, opening its larger-than-usual mouth to exclaim its words. Its skin was smooth and pitch black, like a night without stars; its body seemed human, but while you could see its hands and feet, the tunic hid much of its form from the onlooker. “I have been waiting for you guys at the night market for more than an hour! And you are here playing in the river, I mean, that is very impolite behavior even amongst friends,” it professed.

Antônio looked at the creature and smiled.

“Oh, Papão. Sorry for that. Today was a bit special. Apparently Pedro showed himself amongst the humans and met Joaquim in his centaur form,” he said, and Papão raised both his golden eyebrows at the same time.

“That’s hardly an excuse,” the creature said, approaching the two who were now leaving the river’s cold waters. “Or… did you reveal yourself?” asked Papão to Pedro. Pedro shook his head.

“No, of course not. I’m not an idiot,” he replied, and Antônio walked to where his hat was, took it in his hands and put it back on his head, covering his blowhole.

“Yes, you are not an idiot, my friend,” said the naked boto, his 20cm soft cock swaying as he walked around. He then slapped his friend on the ass again. “You are just crushing hard on that lad,” he completed and laughed.

Papão looked with his grey eyes to Pedro and then to Antônio. He proceeded to opening his sack and taking some clothes from inside it, including a beautiful pair of boots.

“Here are your clothes,” he handed them to Antônio, and then moved to Pedro with a smile. He handed him a piece of cloth with which to dry himself, and then, eying his friend up and down and trying to read his unusual demeanor, he completed, “Want me to take him in my sack and gift him to you?”

Pedro babbled something confusingly as Papão smirked and Antônio dressed himself while in his large-but-mostly-normal-human form.

“You wouldn’t do that!” Antônio ended up saying, without collecting all his thoughts in a coherent denial. Papão laughed out loud and responded, trying to pretend to be offended by his mate’s remark:

“I would for a friend!” Then he took a shirt and a large poncho from his sack. “But unfortunately I don’t have enough space in my sack for a whole adult human right now, as it is filled with products I brough from the capital,” Papão said, as he gave the shirt to Pedro, who handed him back the piece of cloth after drying himself—it was now soaking wet. Papão took it and threw it back into his sack.

“Fuck off, we know your sack has infinite space in there! I remember when you threw me in and I couldn’t break it from the inside even when I changed into a blue whale,” yelled Antônio from about two meters away, while putting on his pants. Papão shrugged and smiled, while moving towards Pedro’s horse body and touching it gently.

“Pedro, your fur is still wet,” he warned. Pedro then raised his right eyebrow and sighed.

“Okay, just a second,” he said, and then he increased the fire on his head so as to cover almost his whole body, drying his fur completely while also warming Papão. During those instants, Pedro’s fire hair burned so high that it could probably have been seen from the town, if they had been looking for it. It was almost like the sight of a large winter bonfire.

“Damn, I will never get used to this shit,” said Papão, who almost fell backwards in surprise when the fire exploded around him. The only consequences of explosion, however, had been his tunic now being pleasantly warm, and Papão feeling better overall—as if most things that were bothering him both mentally and physically had been burned away.

Papão then moved to put the specially designed poncho over his centaur friend’s body, with the hole being using for his torso and the buttons along the front allowing him to hide his frontcock as well as the whole of his horse-like body from people’s direct view.

“Okay, let’s go now,” said Papão, after finishing buttoning up his friend. He looked up towards Pedro’s face. He was now wearing a nice shirt which more accentuated than hid his muscles, and, seeing him, Papão ended up biting his lips a little. Seeing sexy Pedro illuminated by his own warm head fire Papão thought to himself: “Damn bastard, he could get any soul in this place if only he tried.”

“Yes, yes, let’s get going!” said Antônio, putting on his last boot and then walking towards his friends and further on, ahead of them. “The night is a child! Let’s go already, we have wasted too much time here!” he called for them to follow him. Papão smiled with his creepily large mouth and laughed.

“Fuck off dude, I was the one waiting for you guys!” he said, and then the three of them went on their way to the night market.


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