Stallion Girl (centaur, excessive cum, condoms, exhibitionism)

Ever since she had turned into a centaur, her life had effectively been taken over. Nothing worked right, nothing fit correctly. Everything needed to be resized, rearranged, everything made to fit the needs and demands of her stallion body. And, yes, it was, very needy, and very, very demanding. She had taken to referring to the mass of fur, muscle and cock that had replaced her legs as “He”, not really ready to admit that it was, in fact, very much a part of her.

Having discovered that sleeping normally was impossible (she popped even the strongest condoms before midnight, and her human half couldn’t get comfortable unless she was lying on blankets and a pillow) she had come up with an approximate solution. She now slept with her human body propped up on a ledge of pillows, while her horse body was free to pump cum into the bed as much as it wanted. Unsurprisingly, it wanted to do this very much. It seemed content to leak for most of the night, but it usually woke her with a mind-shattering orgasm or three, particularly when the full weight of her horse body sandwiched her morning erection against the bedsheets (which she spent several hours washing every day).

As her ejaculation reluctantly diminished, her mind cleared, and she began to lift herself up, the hours of emissions having formed a gooey layer of almost paste-like consistency that noisily separated like two halves of a grilled cheese being pulled apart. She muttered and wrinkled her nose as the overpowering scent hit her, and her cock twitched, completely unflagged and ready for more. Her tail swished as her hooves clopped onto the cum-splattered hardwood floor, and her human body raised up proudly atop her equine shoulders. Her bedsheets looked as if someone had assaulted them with a sledgehammer covered in hot glue.

Yawning, stretching, she looked less like a centaur and more like a girl and horse fused awkwardly, her upper body and tank top miraculously undefiled, while her lower half fairly dripped with cum, the erection bobbing heavily with every movement, flinging spatters of cum across the furniture. She pivoted His hind legs and aimed Him at a black leather device set up next to her bed, looking vaguely like an oversized orthopedic footrest. It was, in fact, a fake mare, which she had been gifted by a thoughtful friend who knew more about these things than she did. She bent her human half down, snatching up a condom from the box of trash-bag-sized rubbers, and slid it over the end of the device. He pranced anxiously, knowing what was about to come. “Oh stop,” she said, giving her hip a chastising whack with her fingertips.

She reared up, front hooves gently pawing until she found the leg-rests built into the device, and then positioned herself carefully, preferring to get this done efficiently rather than letting Him foolishly hump away until sheer chance brought Him in line with the device. She sighed despite herself as He slid inside, and the condom distended as He pushed out the other end, the plastic bulging outward, straining against His size, until the elastic band popped off the device, snapping tightly around the shaft like a balloon, startling both of them as it always did. She looked down ruefully as she felt the bulging, tube-like urethra squirm against the restraint, and the condom began to slowly fill. If she was careful, she would have around an hour before she had to swap out a new one.

If she was careful…

Sunlight began to filter through the french doors next to her bed, and she reflected that this, at least, was one bright spot in her new reality. She hadn’t been a morning person before “all this” (another evasive phrase on her part), but now she was up at the break of dawn daily, and she found it calming and beautiful in a way that seemed to give both halves of her some degree of peace. Not that it lasted long, but it was something, and she treasured it before opening the doors and stepping out onto the patio next to the pool.

She had moved down here, into what had been a guest room, after the change made stairs impractical. Judging from the coffee scent wafting from the house on th

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