Bred by the Centaurs (M/F Monster Gangbang Erotica)

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.