Stallion Horse Fuck Men Gay
DOWNLOAD === https://bytlly.com/2sUAiL
Ten years ago this month, a resident of Enumclaw, Washington, named Kenneth Pinyan was pronounced dead due to "acute peritonitis [that resulted from the] perforation of the sigmoid colon during anal intercourse with a horse." A surveillance camera captured the license plate of the car that dropped the man off at the hospital after his horrific erotic encounter, leading detectives to 54-year-old James Michael Tait, who lived next to a 39-acre farm. At the man's trailer, the police confiscated the recording of Pinyan, or "Mr. Hands" as his zoophile friends called him, being fucked by a horse they referred to as "Big Dick."
The accident, as well as the video documenting it, became national news and a viral sensation that bubbled out of creepy 4chan boards, seeping into the consciousness of internet users everywhere. Not only did the original Seattle Times report of the death become the publication's most-read online article that year, but the story of Mr. Hands and the group of male zoophiliacs who hung out together, got drunk, and lined up to get plowed by horses was the subject of a 2007 documentary called Zoo, which later went to Sundance and Cannes.
Everyone in Enumclaw is very close to horses. It's a quiet, rural suburb with a view of the mountains. Everyone is a horse person, and as you know, the town included all types of horse worship. It was a place where you could fuck horses, and no one could tell. The line was difficult to differentiate between passion and zoophilia unless you were caught. If Pinyan didn't die, those guys he hung out with would still be fucking horses today and no one would have suspected anything.
When I was talking to the zoos in Washington, I got an impression that they thought Mr. Hands was a bit of a weakling: He was an intellectual, he worked for Boeing as an engineer. They could take a horse-fucking and not have to go to the hospital. He was effete and new to it. They thought he ruined it. If he wasn't so self-destructive, they'd still be fucking horses on weekends. Dumping him at the hospital was really dumping him into the media and mainstream, and also ending the thing they had going.
Did they ever fuck the horses?No, that wasn't their school. There are all different sorts of flavors of zoos. Their thing was about getting fucked in the ass. There were others who liked that, but that was not their circle. They wanted the studs and the bulls. Never cows. There was this element of cocks, big cocks. They never talked about pussies. If my memory stands correct, these men were also fucking each other. After they got fucked by a horse, they'd play games with each other and their stretched assholes.
Did they pick specific horses from the farm, or were they down to be fucked by any horse?They had preferences! They would figure out which horse was too strong, which had the biggest cock, which was the quickest fuck. It was like going to a horse auction.
They were really into the cows, too. One of the guys literally said he planned on eating one of the bulls after it fucked him. I found that to be very problematic. Getting fucked by something you were going to eat? He was super darkly into zoophilia in a way that was unlike the others.
[The sex writer and then Stranger editor-in-chief] Dan Savage and I would talk about if it was a fetish for animals, or a fetish for massive cocks. That question was there the whole time we were working on Zoo and I never found out the answer. This could undermine their claims of being zoo. I must admit it was on my mind, but we didn't explore these questions enough. We were mostly focused on Mr. Hands's actual death, and the community and culture of zoos he was involved with at the time. To me, it's clearer today that these guys had this worship of cock that may have had nothing to do with horses.
Based on your research, do you think zoophilia a fetish, or is it more of a lifestyle and sexual identity?The horse that killed Mr. Hands was nicknamed "Big Dick," right? It wasn't called "Nice Horse," or "Beautiful."
Coyote, the narrator of our doc, was the real deal. He was a real zoo. He had this thing with dogs and other animals. He was making love to them, not just fucking them. That was his thing. It was actual passion and love for animals. The other guys, who were into big dicks, could have just had intense fetishes.
I don't think Mr. Hands was actually in love with horses. While researching, I went to the house Mr. Hands was building in Washington. He was constructing a barn and he wanted to live with a horse. Maybe he was developing feelings for the animal, but maybe not. There might have been animal love, but when you really got down to it, they were just into horse cock.
Very often, the stallions came up to me in pairs: one would penetrate my ass and another would slide his dick in my mouth. It was so satisfying to please two stallions simultaneously, then do it again, and again! I decided to spend most of the HM on the same fuckbench being spitroasted (my specialty). I could tell that some stallions fucked me more than once, and it was an amazing feeling inside when they came back for more of my skills!
I was completely awestruck walking into the stable. Mares were everywhere and in every possible position: clustered together ass up on a large fuck bed, on slings, atop fuck benches, and on another bed on their backs, holding up their legs and exposing their still tight holes. Time seemed to stop for a moment. The stable was a still life of eager pleasure about to take place.
I thought about how I would want to be treated if I were White Hood. I pulled out a condom from my sock and rubbed the wrapper edge on his chest so he would know I wanted to fuck him. I asked if it was okay and he said yes. Overwhelmed with desire, I pulled his hand to my dick to show him that I was sheathed. He gave a squeeze and I moved between his knees. I lubed up and pressed balls deep into his silky mare hole.
Back at the main part of the stable, I noticed White Hood and another red-hooded mare had been moved to a table. They were both on their backs facing opposite directions with their heads together in the middle of the table. The two mares were touching as Red Hood got pounded; begging his stallion for more, he was unbelievably vocal, and trembled and shook with every stroke given. Another stallion walked up and fed his dick to that vocal mare as the mare jacked his own dick.
So as I am standing there, bent over the side of a fuck table, with a smaller guy figuring out what angle to fuck me from, I suddenly feel him get some leverage by putting his foot upon my left calf. After a few minutes of fucking from this angle, he decides to put his other foot up on my right calf. So I crouch a little more and I steady my stance as he mounts me, standing completely on my calves, grabbing my shoulders for support, and thrusting as hard as he can.
After check-in, I undressed with other Stallions: excitement in the air. You'll have the opportunity to get your junk photographed with your Stallion number. Then the Stallions were led into the stable. Already, I heard the moans of mares. You'll hear that all night. The wondrous sounds of guys fucking. The mares were the center clusters around circular fuck areas, play benches were available, and padded tables on the back wall.
To my left was a small, fit, hungry bottom. Again, I love fucking smaller men. We made out for a while. The padded bench area opened just a bit for us. I kicked back and he worshiped my cock and Bull-nuts. A second lonely mare close by leaned in and kissed me. I guided him to my pits and chest, which he greedily licked. Horse Market mares understand their role is one of pleasure and service, which I love.
I arrived about 20 minutes into the mare check-in window where there was already a line waiting. Mares could choose a white hood for safe sex only or a red hood for bareback sex; a majority of mares, including me, selected a red hood. I learned after the party that there were a few white hood mares, and some were mounted almost as much as red hood mares! A lanyard with a free bottle of lube was also provided. The stable hands were all friendly and willing to help, and after check-in, escorted mares up to the third floor where the event was to take place. Before the escort, each mare was marked on the back with their number and photographed from the back (for the post-event Best in Show for stallions and mares).The setup of the third floor was stunning to say the least. I might dare call it a homosexual heaven: an even distribution of padded picnic tables, steps and leaning areas, tables, fuck benches, and slings. Perhaps Willy Wonka came to mind: "Come with me, and you'll be / In a world of pure insemination!
"As the mares congregated, most explored the space, as I did. Mares could also select their own starting location instead of being assigned by stable hands. Although I was very briefly tempted to occupy the sling that I loaned for the event, I opted for a spot at one of the padded picnic tables, where at least three or four other mares joined me. I felt there was good camaraderie, and I commented to some of my fellow mares about being bareback brothers together, ready to service all the stallions. Someone also made a Handmaid's Tale joke about our red hoods, with me adding that today, all of us were "Of Stallions.
"Before we took up our positions, the Stable Master ascended one of the steps to briefly address us. He explained the event procedures: whenever any mare needed anything at all - a glass of water, to be moved to a new location or to the rest area or bathroom, to order another drink, whatever - he was to raise his hand high and a stable hand would attend us. They also roved about to keep an eye on us and occasionally checked-in with each mare to ask if we were OK, if we needed anything. He also joked that he'd make sure to tell the stallions not to just slam fuck us; we raised a cheer and some applause! The moment was then upon us. We took our positions and donned our hoods. The stable hands helped us to tie them on so they were secure and we waited. I bent over on the picnic table in position and quietly said some short mantras to myself: "I want to serve. I want to serve. I want to make these stallions happy. I am theirs to use," and other sentiments of the sort. I really wanted it to be perfect, for me and especially for the stallions. 2b1af7f3a8