The Horsecock

Lois had seen horse cocks before—one of her early jobs as a stringer for a daily had been out at a breeder's farm, watching the studs get milked and the mares get inseminated—but never up close. It was warm and alive in her hand as the reporter wrapped her fingers about it, sort of spongy but with a dense inner core as she gripped it, just tight enough to make the urethra flare open a little.

Carefully, getting a feel for it, Lois began to slide her hand up and down the shaft, maintaining a steady pressure with her fingers. This close, she could see the cock emerge directly from the black woman's crotch, where her vagina should...and there was a kind of roll of skin between the ebony thighs that suggested an orifice. That was probably the sheath that the cock would retract into when not erect, like the hood of a clitoris.

No stitches, Lois noted. This wasn't something that was grafted on...this had grown out of her somehow.

"I've always loved Vixen," the black woman's voice was soft, with a touch of a Southern drawl. "She has that Pam Grier kind of magnetism to her, y'know? Bad ass black woman. Not going to take anything off of anybody. For a long time I wanted to be her. To be...anybody but myself."

The horse-dick was growing stiffer in Lois' hands, but she couldn't make out any veins on the surface, just the smooth skin, slick with precum and saliva...and the smell. It wasn't like horses, exactly. It was like the human sex odor...the kind of smell you get when you bury a cock so deep your nose is buried in the pubic hair...only it was strong. Lois could almost taste it, salty and musty, watching the urethra twitch.

"When I was in college, I finally came out...started taking hormones, dressing different, going to the furry parties... I wasn't a looker by any means, but you hang out in the right company, and you're willing to do things, then things will happen to you. It turned out I was okay with that. Okay with webcamming a bit too, to pay for things...and then I heard about this place."

Lois leaned in close to the tower of cock. There was a glistening bead of precum on the urethra, a puddle of clear fluid in the round flared animalistic prick. She could feel herself start to leak too, down between her legs. The reporter remembered how the mares would get, when they smelled the semen, tails wagging about, revealing their dark nether lips. A small part of her remembered that the black woman the cock was attached to was still talking.

"...no surgery, which I liked. Of course, I still had to work to pay it off, but I think you can see that the results were well worth it."

One strong hand caught Lois' chin, and angled it up so that the reporter had to stare past the cockhead into the black woman's eyes.

"I think you need to do more than just see it, though. You need to experience it."

Lois nodded, dumbly. The faux-Vixen was right.