Love grew stale, and the bed it lied upon grew staler; fatherhood elongated the illusion of eternal love for a year or so, and then only added on more weight to the back which broke long before the star-crossed lovers even met. Sure, the sex stayed great; it was hard not to love having something to cum in whenever he pleased, considering that his sub hadn't a bone in his body capable of rejecting his husband. Of course, that little issue of pure obedience had gotten them into this mess in the first place, with two daughters who possessed far more spunk that Nihlus had ever signed on for. He imagined them as chaste and quiet, god damnit! Though that's not to say that he didn't love the little tricksters, for they were admittedly adorable, and almost always got their way with their sire.
Alas, the cuteness eventually faded into womanly beauty, a feature which simply did nothing for Nihlus. And although he would always hold a place in his heart for his first two and two last children, he simply needed to move on; Ischia no longer suited his needs, and the hole he found him burying his dick in eventually became uninteresting, too. Sure, he loved his partner in an ushy-gushy kind of way, but he'd never been one for love and love alone; perhaps something about being raised by a mother who lied about his parentage had something to do with it, though he wouldn't be caught dead analyzing such depressing stuff. Nope! That's for the sissies and the cry babies, and Nihlus obviously belonged to neither category.
So, where to then, if not Ischia? The word around Beqanna was that Loess had stirred up quite a storm recently, plucking some juicy fruits from higher kingdoms. Such winnings had to be worth looking into, right? Or at least, it would be fun to disturb the shit of the shit disturbers if their captives and high-ranking members did not please his taste; a taste which, mind you, is both broad and extremely specific. At this point any wriggling thing would excite the dangerously handsome stallion, and yet he found himself almost deliriously in need of a man who would blush and squeal and buck beneath the weight of him, who would whine and cry and beg when he thrusted the full length and width of himself into a place that it definitely did not belong, to evolution anyway. God, how badly he wanted something like that; or rather, someone.
Without ceremony, the rain manipulator slinked into the war kingdom, already liking the smell of it and the feel of the forgiving loam beneath his hooves. The starkly contrasted white of his forelegs flashed gorgeously in the bright summer moonlight, illuminating his well-built baroque figure as it seemed to float across the even terrain. The curve of his thick neck and the breadth of his shoulders and hips would attract even the most asexual of eyes, the fluid motion of his masculine features like warm saliva sliding down their most intimate parts. What can I say, Nihlus is gorgeous - and even more than that, full of himself. It's not like any was expecting anything otherwise, especially after a dry spell of nearly five years - unless you count the devoted, perfect boy he left heartbroken on an Ischian shore somewhere to the south, utterly forgotten as Nihlus raises his nose and scents the air for stallions.
Nihlus
that's all I want