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The stable hand, with his rough, weathered hands, knows just how to coax the beast to submission. Starting at the horse's massive, veined neck, he works his way down, lingering on the barrel chest, feeling the powerful heartbeat. His hands glide over the horse's sleek, sweaty skin, the scent of musk and hay filling the air. He pauses at the horse's groin, his touch soft yet purposeful. The horse shifts, his breath coming in loud snorts, his cock swelling in response. The stable hand grips it firmly, stroking it with practiced ease, feeling the horse's hot, sticky release coat his hand, a testament to his skill.