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Whore.
Yes, it was evident in the way that the seductress moved, the way she flicked her tail ever so nonchalantly to the side so that you may catch a whiff of her sweet nectar. She was a dirty little girl, and was looking for nothing more than a night of fun, be it mare or stallion that found its way to her. Arching her delicate nape to bring her zenith tucked neatly to her chest, Khara stalked smoothly through a darkened pine forest, the air sharp with the bitter frostiness of autumn. Her sleek, silky dappled skin shivered with excitement as she neared what seemed to be a moonlit clearing. Halting at the brink of the meadow, large, liquid does eyes scanned the seemingly empty plot of land while widened coves sifted through various scents hazing about. A low, throaty, yet girlish whicker escaped her chest, followed by an impatient squeal. Flicking her gossamer strands to the side, her vulva began to wink, juices sliding down her inner thighs. The mere thought of a massive, demanding stallion (be him Dark or Light) finding her here and raping the sh*t out of her was ecstatic, almost too much to bear. Khara was always this way, sexually overcharged. She was a tramp, and the best part about her was she wasn't afraid, nor embarassed, to admit it. She loved sex, and would continue to take advantage of her appeal and looks until she was an old, washed out used up nag. Even then, she would have her fun. Khara was a strange mare, for she liked equines of both sexes. She found mares incredibly attractive and would not hesitate to jump straight into lesbian action, as hardcore as you could think. She's done it all. Now you might think a slutty girl like this is loose, nasty, ridden with STDs. Not the case. On the contrary, Khara was a delightful apparition without her horny nature attached. Though she had many sleepless nights getting the hell banged out of her, the wench maintained herself and often winked her pussy muscles just for the fact that it strengthened them, tightened her love hole. An arabian, this was obvious, for her flowing lines and graceful movements could not be interpreted as anything but. Slender, yet muscled pistons trod upon the frosted earth, ebon shards engraving light cresents in her wake. In the middle of the clearing she stood, crania held high and pools sparkling with a little provacativeness, tail held haphazardly to the side and stating plainly what she wanted. Not a foal, not a lifetime relationship. Pure lust, no strings attached.
Come and get 'er, boys.
Or girls.
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