I No Longer Wish To Be A Stallion....

I wrote a true story awhile back about my friend Mitch and his journey from Chicago prison inmate to real estate salesman , marrying a horse-wise-woman who raised Arabians and sold the off-spring.

If you missed out on that, I can’t help you much.

But what I can tell you about, was the day Mitch and I found ourselves sitting on fence rails, chewing on straw, watching Marissa go through the machinations of introducing her young Arabian stud to the pleasures of Mare vagina…

Now, I’m not a city boy, but I’m not a country boy either. I sort of fall in the in-between. I’m from what most folks would consider to be what we affectionately call around here- the suburbs…

I’m a suburbanite.

So I know something about cows, and something about 7-11‘s.

But I had never witnessed a stallion mount a mare before, and let me tell you, it is something to behold.

Mitch and I were both sitting- straw in mouth (for that country effect)- on a fence rail. Marissa had grabbed her hot Arabian stallion by the halter and walked him over to a juicy mare, one that Marissa had tied snugly to a fence rail opposite us.

AND THERE IT WAS.

As sudden as a thought.

As substantial as a dirigible.

As monstrous as the Lochness Monster.

The STALLION PENIS.

It looked like a black baguette, to be honest. It fulfilled all of the prophesies, to be sure…

I looked at Mitch. He looked at me. We shrugged our shoulders…

I mean, what else could we do?

The stallion got all excited. He reared. He jumped around. He snorted and blew his lips into flippety flappety sounds.

Mucous was all around his mouth….

He leaped upon the back of the mare….

I looked at Mitch. He looked at me…

We shrugged. I mean, what else could we do?

And before you could say “God Bless You”, the horny stallion had ejaculated all over the rump of the mare, missing his mark completely. It was over before it began. It was a dismal failure. It was- to quote a female friend of mine- “all a bunch of hype.”

I felt better. I looked at Mitch.

He felt better too.

“That never happened to me,” I said.

Mitch said, “Me neither.”

And we nodded like brothers to each other. And chewed on our straws...

And then Marissa took the situation into her own hands. This tiny, fragile woman, led the stallion around in circles for awhile while Mitch and I looked on. Then she brought him upon the mare again. She helped him figure out what to do next. The stallion mounted the mare clumsily, only this time, Marissa was right on hand to help the stallion get his thing heading in the right direction. With a gentle hand, the stallion was inside and he was happy.

I looked at Mitch. "She do that for you, too?"

"Yep."

"I nodded, clamping down on my straw. "That's a good thing..."