Memento

The wolf woke early, as the sun was rising. He kept quiet, getting to his feet and making a coffee. He leaned against the doorway as he drank it, smiling as he looked at the stallion from behind. His cock was hardening once more, begging him to go lay down again and let the stallion do to him what he’d done the night before. But he had to get to work.

When the hot drink was finished, he set the cup aside and dug into the bag he’d brought. He pulled out a container, removing the head of a blue flower from within and placing it on the pillow next to the horse. He took a step back, admiring the scene. The dark stallion with the shock of yellow hair, and the blue rose. It’d probably make an attractive painting, he thought absently. His eyes lingered on the cock that snaked across the fabric, still—still!—leaking from the night before. Fuck. Stallions were just so…so…

Temptation wrapped her fingers around him, and he almost gave in. Almost.

He pulled fresh clothes from his bag and began dressing, smiling to himself as his mind wandered. Perhaps he’d come by again that evening. The horse had proved a very pleasant distraction. Yes. That evening…and the evening after, too.

Perhaps very many evenings after.