by Jessi Bond
Bred by the Centaurs
By Jessi Bond
Copyright 2012 Jessi Bond
Smashwords Edition
If there was one thing Sarah couldn’t possibly regret about her honeymoon, it was the destination.
Greece was beautiful. They were staying in a gorgeous five-star hotel with all the amenities, situated on the Peloponnese near the Folóï mountain. The view was breathtaking. And Sarah had spent a fair amount of the last two days just staring at it.
It wasn’t like there was anything else to do, really.
When Sarah was growing up, the subject of sex was shrouded in mystery, only spoken about in hushed tones. She’d often puzzled as to how people could possibly be so flip about it - it was such an important thing, the union of bodies, of souls. Extraordinary pleasure beyond her wildest imaginings.
Now, she was beginning to understand the irreverence.
She’d been undeniably nervous on her wedding night - but not as much as her husband, Jared, whose sweaty palms and cracking voice were anything but a turn-on. But he wasn’t a bad kisser, per se, and the feeling of him quickly growing hot and hard against her thigh was actually pretty exciting. She didn’t even let it dampen her spirits when he suddenly stopped squirming against her and froze, groaning softly, though the puddle of sticky liquid quickly soaking through his pants did dampen her cute new dress a little.
Jared, ever the gentleman, made a valiant attempt to pleasure her by jabbing his fingers arhythmically against her mound. When she convinced him that wasn’t getting anywhere fast, he pushed up her dress and tentatively poked at her with his tongue. She wanted to enjoy it; she really did, but she only felt numb and bored.
Later on, he did succeed in getting most of the way inside of her before he came. It was kind of cute, the way he kept apologizing. A little while afterwards he wanted to do it again, and she idly stroked his hardness, her hand almost enveloping the whole thing, she felt a pit growing in her stomach.
Did I just make a horrible mistake?
This time, he managed an entire ten thrusts before he collapsed on top of her, chest heaving, as if he’d just run a marathon or something. Sarah squeezed her eyes tightly shut and tried to tell herself it would get better.
As Jared snored beside her on their second night together, after another few dispiriting lovemaking sessions, Sarah snuck into the bathroom to try something she’d always been told not to do.
It was naughty, after all, to touch yourself. But she was a married woman now - what could possibly be wrong with exploring her body a little? The whole point, after all, was to better please her husband. He hadn’t said anything about it, but she could tell that her lack of interest in sex was starting to bother Jared.
Maybe, if she could learn how to pleasure herself, she could subtly pass the knowledge along to Jared somehow.
Hesitantly, Sarah stepped out of her panties and sat down on the bathroom floor, sinking into the plush bathmat and leaning up against the vanity. With two fingers, she spread her nether lips apart and looked down at the soft pink flesh underneath.
So she wasn’t a virgin anymore. Big deal. Everything looked the same. Not that she’d ever made a habit of staring at herself like this. She let one of her fingers drift further in, to one of the damp inner lips, rubbing up and down a little. It felt..strange.
She explored herself gently like this for a while, spreading folds of skin and rubbing, pressing, feeling herself swell slightly under her own ministrations. Her heartbeat quickened a little. So she was doing something right, at least. Her body was responding.
Up at the apex there was a small nubbin - her clitoris, she knew, despite her parents’ best efforts to hide this sort of information from her. They’d been careful, but not so careful that she couldn’t pull down volumes of the encyclopedia at school and stare at the diagrams of the reproductive system.
Pressing her fingers against this spot brought a sharp sensation - not fully unpleasant, but nothing she desired to repeat. She continued to rub herself slowly, feeling herself grow hotter and wetter, until her fingers were slick with musky-smelling juices. On impulse, she brought her fingers up to her mouth and flicked her tongue out for a taste. It was salty and sour, but not bad at all.
A warm sensation was beginning to expand in her chest. She sighed, closing her eyes, the slickness allowing her to slide her fingers up and down faster and faster. As she quickened her pace, she was surprised by the rush of pleasure that spiked from her core, entirely unlike anything she’d ever felt. Her mouth had gone dry. She felt desperate, urgently needing a release that her instincts told her would come if she kept on sliding her fingers up and down her sopping folds. Her heart was pounding in her ears. Her whole body tingled.
Her hand slipped a little from its original position, sliding against her clitoris once again, and this time the feeling was electric. Unable to choke back a moan, she focused her efforts on this spot, feeling her inner muscles clench and tighten just before an exquisite rush of pleasure took her over, growing in intensity beyond what she could have thought possible. Just before it exploded, she had a moment of clarity: so this is what it’s supposed to feel like.
She stayed slumped against the vanity for a while, gently massaging her sore wrist. This was a start, but it was no substitute for having this kind of experience alongside Jared. She doubted he’d want to just sit back and watch her pleasure herself, so at some point she was going to have to try and teach him how to make her feel this way.
After a while, she pulled herself to her feet, washed her hands, and went back to bed.
Sarah slept fitfully. Sharing a bed with someone was an entirely new experience - and one that left her feeling more than little unsettled. She drifted in and out of consciousness the whole night, and when Jared shook her awake for their planned sightseeing expedition, she could barely drag herself out of bed.
Most of the day went by in a blur, although she did recall a long stretch of failed attempts to find authentic spanakopita - and the passing thought that if Jared put half as much effort into pleasing her in bed as he did into tracking down spinach pie, their married life would be off to a much better start.
She knew it wasn’t really fair, but by the time they got back to the hotel, she was a ball of barely-restrained fury. She sat in stony silence as Jared ate his precious spanakopita, her anger a welcome distraction from the gnawing doubt that had been plaguing her for…well, if she was going to be honest with herself, ever since she’d first flipped open that little black box two years ago.
When they went to bed, Jared naturally started nuzzling up to her - they were on their honeymoon, after all. She had to resist the urge to push him away. Maybe it would be better this time.
Yeah, right.
She tried to focus on the feeling she remembered from last night. Just the memory of it was enough to light up a little fire inside of her, heat pooling and growing between her legs. And the sensation of Jared licking and nibbling at the sensitive skin on the side of her neck was actually very nice. She unclenched her fists and made a valiant effort to lose herself in it.
It almost seemed to be working. She was swelling and tingling, and imagining the sensation of his tongue on her, licking up her wetness, was actually quite tantalizing. But when he went to strip off her panties, she felt the head of his cock pressing bluntly against her opening. So he was eager, then. Oh well. She could wait.
It was rather a nice feeling, too - though she didn’t exactly feel “filled up” or “split open” or “stretched” or any of those other words she’d read in those romance novels that her mother kept hidden in the attic.
But at least it wasn’t unpleasant.
When he thrust inside her those last few times, groaning, she felt a little relieved. At last, she was going to get what she needed. Jared was going to make her come. This was it. This was the time. There were butterflies in her stomach.
He pulled out, collapsing beside her. She let him catch his breath for as long as she could stand it, but she was beginning to feel desperate.
“Hey,” she said, softly, and he propped himself up on one arm to look at her.
“Yeah?”
“Do you think you could…” she gestured vaguely towards her lower stomach. “…like before? With your mouth?”
His nose wrinkled - it actually wrinkled, and she saw him try to reign in it, temper his reaction a little, but it was too late. “You mean…” he hesitated, his eyes drifting down to her crease, to the dribble of his seed that was starting to come out and stain the sheets. “…like…that?”
Leading up to her marriage, Sarah had been given a lot of books by her female relatives that talked about things like being “full of grace” and “virtuous” and “a dutiful wife.” What a dutiful wife would do in this situation, of course, was smile understandingly, go into the bathroom, and wash her husband’s semen out as best she could, then return to him, fresh as a daisy. A dutiful wife would not expect a husband to do something so demeaning as to lick his own come out of her pussy, no matter how much she ached for release. A dutiful wife would understand.
But in that moment, Sarah did not feel like a dutiful wife.
All of the fury from before came back to her tenfold, and she found herself leaping out of bed, haphazardly throwing her clothes back on, and grabbing her purse. She actually had her hand on the doorknob before Jared even seemed to realize what was going on.
“Sarah,” she heard him, dimly. “What’s going -” He was touching her arm, and she shoved him off with such force that he almost lost his balance.
“Just leave me alone,” she shouted, “for once, just let me do what I want!”
She stormed out of the hotel and across the road, running mindlessly towards the forest. She wasn’t sure what she planned to do, exactly; where she meant to go. She just knew she couldn’t stand to spend one more minute in that room with a man who would wrinkle his nose at her, who treated her like some precious porcelain doll that might break at any moment, with his stupid face and his small penis and the way he flopped on top of her like a wet fish.
By the time she reached the edge of the woods, her head had cleared considerably. Not enough to think about turning back, but enough that she no longer saw red around the edges of her vision. She felt damp and sticky between her legs, and she was still aroused - maddeningly so, her swollen lips rubbing together with every step and making it harder to concentrate on serious decisions like what the hell she was going to do with her life now.
It was dark in the forest, but the trees were sparse, and the moon was bright enough that she had no trouble finding her way down the dirt road. She wondered if she was alone. She had a curious feeling that she wasn’t - but it didn’t frighten her, as it perhaps ought to have. She felt oddly safe. Watched, but safe.
Well, maybe not “watched” exactly. At least, she hoped not, because with every passing moment, she was seriously considering ducking behind a tree and rubbing herself to a screaming climax. It wouldn’t take long. She could tell. She was already feeling the telltale shivers of pleasure just from the rhythm of each step.
She resisted the ridiculous idea as long as she could, but as the longing ache spread throughout her whole lower body, she knew she had no choice. Her libido was calling the shots now. And after being studiously ignored and repressed for so long, there was simply no denying it what it wanted.
She stepped off the path and ran as far into the forest as she judged to be safe. Now that the decision was made, she felt wild - she couldn’t wait to unfasten her jeans with shaking hands and push them down around her ankles, displaying her nakedness to the forest like she was born to do it. Leaning back against a tree trunk, she parted her knees just enough to slip her fingers between -
“Look at you.”
Sarah froze. The voice was low and resonant, and for one mad moment she actually thought it might be the forest itself speaking to her. With her hand already buried in the white-hot wetness between her legs, she couldn’t stop her fingers from moving a little, even as her eyes darted around to see who was watching her.
She heard the rustling of leaves and the breaking of twigs just moments before he came into view. And a “he” he certainly was, though nothing like any man she’d ever seen. Partially because of his piercing gray eyes, long dark hair, and finely sculpted torso, but mostly because that torso was mounted directly on the body of a magnificent horse.
Sarah blinked hard a few times, convinced that her eyes were playing tricks on her in the dark. It must be a man riding a horse. Not a man who also was a horse. There wasn’t such a thing as centaurs.
“Don’t worry,” said the…creature, coming closer. “We won’t harm you. Despite what you may have heard.”
“We?” Sarah breathed.
The centaur didn’t answer. “What brings you into this forest at night, smelling like a mare in heat?”
Sarah’s heart was beating hard against her ribcage. What could she possibly say to him? She had to be imagining things. Was there some sort of hallucinogenic baked into the few resentful bites of spanakopita she’d eaten?
“I don’t know,” she said, truthfully.
The centaur smiled, taking another step closer. Sarah felt herself sinking down towards the ground, her hand still buried between her legs.
“I suppose you didn’t come here for us, then? To experience the legendary coupling of a human woman with a half-man, half-beast?”
His tone was mocking. She shook her head, shrinking further from him.
“No, I didn’t. I swear. I didn’t know. I didn’t even think you were real.”
He laughed, his front legs bending down to bring him almost to her level. “All right, then,” he said. “So you didn’t know. You just thought these legendary woods, the fabled home to centaurs, would be the best place to find some quiet time to yourself?”
Sarah quivered. She didn’t know what she was afraid of, but she felt her inner muscles twitching and clenching as her eyes drifted over the centaur’s body. Every part of it was heart-stoppingly beautiful, from his tightly muscled chest to his smooth haunches to the long, thick shaft on the underside of his belly.
“I don’t know why I came here,” she said, softly. “I really don’t. But I guess you’re right about one thing. I am in heat. I just got married, and my husband can’t satisfy me. I wanted him to…you know…go down on me.” The words came out in a rush. “But he didn’t want to, because I still had…him…dripping out of me and he thought it was gross, I guess. And I know I should have just accepted it and gone to wash up, but it made me angry, so I came out here instead.”
The centaur chuckled. “Too proud to eat his own essence out of you? For shame. He doesn’t sound like much of a man to me.”
Sarah swallowed hard and nodded, as much as it pained her to admit it.
“Why would you marry such a man?” the centaur asked, leaning in so close that she felt a little light-headed.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I…I was a virgin until our wedding night.”
The corner of the centaur’s mouth quirked up in a smile. “How virtuous,” he said, his eyes raking over her half-naked body.
“Please,” she said. “Just let me go back to my hotel.”
“I’m not stopping you,” said the centaur. “But is that what you really want?”
She was forcing herself not to stare directly at it - she really, really was - but out of the corner of her eye, she could see the already impossibly long shaft of his cock growing even longer. And maybe it was her imagination, but she could have sworn there was a little bead of white precome on the massive tip.
“Yes,” she said in a very small voice, lying to him. Lying to herself.
The centaur grinned, then reached out and grabbed her around the waist, lifting her with one smooth movement so that she was more or less upright against the tree, legs unsteady. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand away from her desperately aching core.
“Are you sure?”
Closing her eyes as tightly as she could, Sarah shook her head.
She didn’t know what she expected to feel, exactly - but it wasn’t the centaur’s tongue on her swollen flesh, simultaneously soothing and worsening the ache that had been growing in it for so long. She let out a long, shaky moan, almost losing her balance but for the strong hands still around her waist. Her inner muscles seized up to it almost immediately, her toes curling inside her sensible hiking boots as she felt the beginnings of her second-ever orgasm shuddering through her.
She dimly heard something in the distance, someone calling her name? And she turned towards the noise with lust-clouded eyes just in time to dimly see Jared, stumbling towards her through the underbrush, the look of utter shock that passed over his face as he tried to take in the scene before him - before exquisite pleasure hit her like a tidal wave, and she screamed out her climax to the night sky.
When she came back to herself, she took a moment to survey her surroundings. There was the centaur, kneeling before her, his chin wet with her juices. He was smiling. Behind him and all around him, slowly coming out of the shadows, were the “we” he must have been referring to. Ten centaurs - no, twelve, each of them more gorgeous than anything she could have imagined. And Jared, in the midst of it all, his mouth hanging slightly open and - unbelievably - a very noticeable tent in his jeans.
When he turned to her, she wasn’t sure what she expected him to say.
“Is this really happening?” was all that came out of his mouth.
“I guess so,” said Sarah. And oddly enough, she didn’t feel the urge to apologize, or to explain her behavior. As the centaurs gathered closer, she began to understand what was going to happen here tonight. She would be fucked by all of them in turn - their leader first, no doubt, the one who had first approached her and brought her to climax with his tongue. He’d merely been readying her for them. For all of them.