1 comments/ 79037 views/ 4 favorites The Horse By: thick9 This is a true episode of another of the women I have known. Having been blessed with finding partners who posess amazing oral capabilities and the desire to use them on me I tell these tales to you. ******************************* As a child and through most of her life she had ridden horses. An extravagance her loving Mother and abusive, domineering Father provided in her formative years. As an adult just the thought of the wind in her face brought pleasant memories from some very unpleasant and unsettling times during her teen years. Now at age 40 her Master had her riding yet a different horse for both thier pleasures . She thought she was sexually well traveled. Tia had stumbled into BD/SM when cheating on her non appreciative husband. Hubby thought waking her in the middle of the night by pinching her nipples and climbing on and sticking it in her to deposit his load in under five minutes was sex. Tired of this she sought sex and attention through BD/SM and it was a perfect match. Sir had found her a willing neophyte and felt she had much to learn. She knew she was a strong, sexy, capable and in charge woman. With the wiseness that comes with age Sir found in her an unfulfilled wannabe freak. A woman who desired to be controlled in bed and unable to trust any man to do the job. A woman who needed to be called a slut, bitch and a ho. She not only desired but thrived on the attention and extended sexual sessions. Being very high spirited Tia initially tried to push the edge of her bitchiness every step of the way. As the in control owner of a thriving florist business she was admittedly a "pushy broad". She had pushed Sir too far only once and had been correctively punished. Tia was made to kneel upon uncooked grains of rice, on a hardwood floor, while sucking him to completion. He always took a long time to cum, one of the things she adored about him. Severe to her knees the over two hour lesson had been learned and never forgotten by her. She thought twice each and every time she even thought about pushing him. Finally she had no such thoughts. She served while not recieving the usual verbal encouragement she sought. Having her head held and hearing what a great cock-sucking little slut she was always spurred her on to greater sucking. Having his thick dick edge its way deeper into her throat with each thrust thrilled her to no end. She loved sucking on Sirs dick until he just plain out fucked her face. Master wrested control through sensual subserviance, loving and careing, not abuse or pain. This night, she would totally give in all control, willingly. Relinquish control...The one thing many high powered business women feel. A need to being always in charge. Human needs cannot be politicized as they were in the last half of the twentieth century. Feminism insured only one thing: "Unattractive women would be hired in the workplace." Lets face it. If you are going to look at someone everyday at your place of business you will tend to hire someone that is easy on the eyes. Too chauvanistic for you yet? It wasn't for Tia. Deep down the need to serve and to be free of decision making is recognized by most intelligent women and many fortunate men. They must figure out how to get it. In the real world a woman may manage every aspect of her life and sometimes the lives of many others. In private it is a different story. Within those special, private moments Tia desired to make no decisions whatsoever. She wanted to be led and to be told what to do and how and when to do it. She needed to feel the love and protection of her Master. That invisible cloak of protection in itself gave her immense mental pleasure. It completed her being. He always left her that way. She would perform extremely well on the pony tonight. If you are not familiar with the pony it is called a rail or horse also. It supported her arms, legs and body as she lay nude on the top upholstered rail. It looked similar to police barricades or what you see carpenters use only more supportive. Her arms and legs were strapped down on small shelves and her mouth, ass and pussy were at a perfect level for entry and control by her Master. She balanced there nude. Her lovely full breasts, with grape sized nipples hanging down on either side. Tia was hesitant. Fearful of the unknown, with reason. Afraid being a virgin to the device and this her first time in a BD/SM club. Wearing her collar she proceeded under her invisible protective covering to enjoy the ride. Her libido titilated by what she had seen and what she had done earlier in the evening. The evening began at The club by touring the section that was much like an Adult Book store for BD/SM supplies. Wearing her collar, in a seeming dream like state, not believing what she was doing, she perused and marveled at the costumes and leather ware for sale. He searched the shelves looking for exactly the right sized butt plug to insert into his pet. The right size would almost match his girth. He was a large man. Six feet four inches tall with "those big hands and fingets". She enjoyed having his fingers and fists in her pussy or asshole. She was flexible enough to stretch wide enough for four of his thick fingers in each hole. Yet was able to grasp, with amazing muscle control, just one of his them with either opening. His dick was long and thick and stretched her mouth open wide while she worshiped it. Worshiping Masters big black juicy dick, her words, had proven to be her favorite pastime. Master, or SIR as she called him had taught her how to have an earth shattering orgasm while speaking with her over the phone. She begged for him to "fuck her ass" during thier very first meeting he aroused her so. Ass full and being spanked sent her to Nirvana. He also taught her to cum over and over as she worshipped, slurped and licked his large dick and sucked his balls into her mouth. A real cocksucker can make herself cum while she performs. The educational process showed her she could cum copiously with the correct stimulation and she did time and time again. Her juicy pussy was soaking the rail as Neal knealt and sucked on her toes. Neal had given the couple a tour of the upstairs pleasure rooms. He had been introduced by a hostess as being expert at doing his "foot thing" and had been overtly staring at her beautiful naked breasts all night. Tia was real curious to find out just what the "foot thing" was and now Neal was sucking on her toes while Master leisurely fucked her face, mouth and throat. In and out he went as he clutched her head taking his pleasure. No gag reflex at all was evident. Much practice had gone into that. Actually you could see the head of his dick in her throat from stroke to stroke. She had proven an eager dick sucker and with the right encouragement became even better each time they were together. The "foot thing" Neal was providing only heightened her ecstasy, which had begun in the bar area with a slave unwrapping. It was a Christmas theme and the female slave was unwrapped, paddled, bullwhipped and then allowed to cum by her Masters' bullwhip handle up her wet snatch. Over the time that this was happening Master and Tia were in a secluded corner observing and being observed as they played. Slave Tia asked if she could kiss her Master and proceeded to face him, kiss him and sit on his thigh and ride her wet pussy into cum after cum after cum. Opening her front wrap silk blouse to give Master access to her braless ripe breasts. She came non stop as he pulled on her nipples and ordered her cums. Many in the crowded bar watched as she did, so very vocally, from the frottage and nipple pinching. Another man then came into the upstairs play area and sat down twatching Slave Tia perform. Her exhibition aroused him so he had to clutch his hard on through his pants eventually taking it out to stroke a skinny five inch erection. He was amazed at her ability to swallow so much dick strapped down with no hands. A feat most cocksuckers never achieve. Nearly sucking her Master off she came and hollered on his dick in her throat. A feeling he treasured. Cumming from sucking dick and having her toes sucked Tia was a never ending cum running machine. Cum was flowing from her pussy onto the horse. Master motioned to Neal to switch places cautioning not to cum in her mouth and Neal eagerly offered her his dick. Sir told her to feast. She thanked him, liked what she saw and gobbled Neals offering as greedily and with the same fervor with which he fucked her mouth. At the same time Master was fisting her pussy with four fingers and popped his new butt plug into her asshole. His other hand now beat a steady beat on her ass cheeks leaving large red hand prints on her pale white butt. Each swat eliciting yet another cum from her as she vocalized it onto the dick in her mouth. Neal could not stand her mouths onslaught much longer than five minutes and asked where he could cum. Master indicated her back and told Mike the observer he could take a turn but, not to cum in her mouth. Boner in hand he fed it but, not as fast as she could inhale his it. Swallowing the little dick whole she made him cum in less than a minute. He deposited a load on her shoulder still amazed at her oral capabilities. All this while she came continuously as Master fisted her pussy and replaced the butt plug with three thick fingers in her asshole. Her cum now escaped her pussy as if shot from a cannon. Sweat beads covered her back and butt to mingle with the cum deposited there and still copious amounts of cum shot out of her pussy. Master caught a hand full and had her eat it from his cupped palm causing her another huge shuddering cum one more time. From roughly nine in the evening until one in the morning, at the club, Tia was in a state of continual orgasm. Slave Tia felt more alive than she ever had before. She had proven herself. Her worth. Her calling. Her role in life. Submission created Pride and she was extremely proud of herself. After being lovingly cleaned of cum and then being helped from off the horse all she wanted to do was fall into a very contented sleep after sucking the three men. Master had other plans.. The Horse The pain shooting through my body as the second nipple clamp was tied off on the swing bolt in the floor was minor compared to the rest. Master had set the scene perfectly... a long time fantasy of mine... and His delightfully sadistic nature had truly come to the fore... but there was so much more to come. When i arrived at the playroom He had required me to strip in the hallway before entering His presence. Clothing offends my Master. He believes that no woman should be clothed and that clothing should never hide a slave from her Master. Leaving my clothing folded neatly in the hall, i got down on my knees, reached up, and turned the door handle. i then moved onto all fours, pushing the door open with my head, and crawled to just inside the door. The concrete was cold against my hands and knees, and colder still as i laid my upper body onto the floor, pressing my face against it. i lay there quietly, awaiting permission to enter the room fully, and noted that the lighting was dim in this room. my Master was standing over a table with His back to me as i entered... but i knew, He knew, i was there. i am a part of Him, and He of me... therefore He is always aware of me even when we are apart... and i feel Him close no matter the miles that separate us. It is the nature of the slave/Master relationship. It is what tells me that no matter how much He hurts me He will never harm me, because to harm me would be to harm Himself. Even so, i was nervous as i knelt on the floor... i could feel my heart beating rapidly, the growing moisture between my legs... i focused on those feelings to try to shut out the cold, so much so that i jumped, startled as i felt His hand brush across my ass... He didn't speak at first, merely coming down behind me, examining me to make sure that His preferences had been seen to. i smiled softly, knowing that He would be pleased to find His cunt is bare and smooth to His touch... but my smile turned into a moan as He slipped a finger inside of me. i attempted to hold very still as He tested my inner walls, seeking out my g spot. A true test of my training... He rubbed against it in silence, my breathing and moans filled the room... i had to fight back the orgasm that would naturally occur under such circumstances, as my hips were moving with His hand. Just as i reacedh the brink of what i could stand He pulled away, and i nearly collapsed to the floor... barely holding myself in position. "Mmmm, good girl," He said, and as my breathing slowed. i smiled with pride.. i'd passed the test. "All Fours," he said. i brought my upper body into a crawling position once again. Master placed a collar around my neck... nothing special... not a pretty collar, or a claiming collar... but a dog collar, a simple leather strap with a D ring. To the D ring He attached a chain and gave it a gentle tug. i began to follow Him across the room, wagging my ass like a tail, as He had commanded me so many times. In the center of the room, beneath the single bare bulb providing the only light, was a wooden board, suspended from the ceiling. To the left of the board was a table, and though i couldn't see the top of it from here i knew that Master has carefully laid out His tools of choice so that they would be at His disposal. In front of the table was a deep leather chair, red in color. To the right of the sawhorse was a bed, covered in plastic. The bed had been placed on a deep piled blue rug. Master attached my leash to the steel swing bolts in the floor next to the wooden board. To this point i hadn't noticed that they were there... Knowing that this is where i would stay for a time, i assumed Master's preferred kneeling position and rested my face against the floor, wishing i were on the rug under the bed. "Have you been good?" Master asked. i'm never sure how to answer this question... if good meant have i done my best to represent my Master positively in all things the answer would be yes... if good means that i have thought of Master nearly constantly the answer would be yes... if the question is have i stayed out of mischief the answer is probably no... because i tend to be mischievous, but not in a negative way, in a playful way. i assume one of the previous 2 and respond. "Yes Master, i have been good." my voice came out trembly at first, but grew stronger because i know it bothers Master when He can't understand me. i cred out as Master smacked, open handed, across my ass... "You're a good girl. Kneel Up." Rising to my knees i watched as Master reached over to the table and took 2 items from it. Chocolate brown eyes widened at the clawed nipple clamps. Lifting each breast in His hand, Master placed a clamp on each nipple... i didn't believe i was ready for this much pain, but Master knows best. i moaned in pain as each clamp closed around a nipple. a sharp inhalation of breath proceeding each moan... i could feel my legs growing damp just at the top of my inner thighs. "Lay on your back, legs spread wide, hands behind your head." Once i'd obeyed, only going as far as the leash will allow, Master placed a pillow under my ass to raise my hips, giving Him better access to my cunt. Reaching behind Him He picked the wide leather crop laying on the table. "Be still... do not move" i looked at Him like He was crazy... He was going to smack me with that thing and doesn't want me to move!? I took several deep breaths, knowing that the more tense i was the more it would hurt. Master dragged the edge of the crop down through my wet slit... pushing and prodding as though He would push it inside of me... This continued for some time, as i fought not to move my hips with the movements He was making... my pleasure was building and it was a strain to hold still while i was aching so desperately to cum... "Please Master..." i moaned... "please... need to cum... please..." THWACK... the crop came down unexpectedly on my cunt... i jerked in pain and it took every conscious thought i had to hold my legs open, not to close them against the sting... the crop was wet with my juices, which only increased the feeling of the strike... THWACK... This time i was better prepared, though i instinctively began to pull my hands away from under my head to hold my legs open. THWACK DON"T! THWACK MOVE! A true test of my obedience. If someone had asked if i could obey in this area i don't know that i would have responded that i could. i was screaming out with each strike, but at the same time pleasure was growing inside of me... renewed pleasure, adding to what i was already feeling before the whipping began. Even so, my body wanted to twist away from the pain... Had they been quick short strikes, close to the body i would have handled it better, but these were full strokes, each one carefully placed in the same spot. I wanted to obey... i wanted so badly to obey... my mind was screaming for Master to bind me so that i couldn't fail Him, but that was not His wish... this day... at this time... i was meant to fail. Had i known it in the beginning i might not have fought so hard to succeed... But Master had purposely set an impossible task. By the 10th stroke, i rolled away, crying, curling up in a defensive ball... Master rose from His kneeling position... this was not to be the Master i had known to date. Gone was the tender, patient Master i had known... gone was the forgiveness He was always so quick to give when i failed Him... "10!!!, 10 strokes was all you could take for Me?" i was crying at this point... but frustrated as well... 10 had been a lot... or at least it had felt like a lot... and i was shaking, not just with pain, but also with desire. Master grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled my head out of the fetal position i had tucked it into. Pulled my head backwards to look into His face... would my tears move Him? Would He understand that i had taken all i could... that i was angry with myself for being disobedient... "you really are a worthless bitch aren't you?" i cried all the harder as He shoved me away. "Please Master," i cried through tears, trying to make my voice clear. "Please... I'm sorry." Rising to my knees i began crawling toward Him... my leash pulling tightly as it went between my legs ... the pain of the nipple clamps all but forgotten. He'd sat down now, watching me in disgust as i stopped at His feet... "Please, i want to do better... please Master, I'm sorry." Master's face softens a bit. "You want to do better? i know you do... you're a good girl..." Then with sorrow in His voice, "I just don't know if you CAN do better." "I can Master... please, let me try." "Okay slave... I'll give you one last chance to please Me." Unfastening my leash from the swing bolt, Master told me to rise. As i stood to my feet my legs felt like jelly. Master reached under the table to get a box, which He placed next to the suspended wooden board. "Step up onto the box slave and hold your arms out in front of you." As i obeyed i began to get a sense of what was coming., my excitement built... but just as quickly so did my fear. Master attached leather cuffs to each wrist, and then looped rope between them binding my wrist together, my arms crossed. Taking a stepladder from against the wall, He stood on it to place the rope through a swing bolt in the ceiling. As He came down from the ladder, rope in hand, i felt my arms begin to rise over my head... "Now, step over the wooden board and straddle it like a horse. As i stepped over the beam i came off the box and lowered my body gingerly over the board. I've read enough about this to know that if i don't place myself just right the results could be worse than painful, they could actually result in damaging Master's property. I found that i could reach the floor, standing on my tip toes.Master pulled the rope so that my arms were pulled taut but not to their full measure. He then tied the rope off behind me. i could feel the board barely brushing against my cunt, just enough to remind me that it's there... Master then pulled the chain between the nipple clamps downward, and attached a longer chain. I felt it rest against my stomach and drape down my right leg. Finished for the moment, Master took the time to run His hands over my body, enjoying the fullness of my breasts, the firmness of my ass... testing each part of me. As His hand ran down my side i jerked slightly at being tickled, but for the most part i closed my eyes, relaxing as much as possible, while enjoying His touch. Master walked around me, going to the table, and picked up the crop again. This time He used it to strike my ass, but there i can take the pain, and i began to melt with it, enjoying the painful pleasure of the sting on my ass. Without thinking i lowered my body.. i didn't realize it until i felt the beam bite into my cunt. As i winced in pain i began to rise. i hear Master say "STAY." Lowering my body back down i vowed to endure this pain for as long as necessary. Master then took the chain that is draped down my front and linked it off to the swing bolt on the floor in front of me. He pulled it taut, so that my breasts are stretched downward, my nipples distended. "Now, if you still wish to move, go right ahead." i then heard Him laugh as He watched the look cross my face. Decisions, decisions... if i rise up it will hurt my breasts, if i remain lowered it will hurt my cunt. i tried for somewhere in between, though the distance between was very slight. i could feel the juices running down my legs... Master continued to touch me. From time to time He would reach between my legs and feel the juices there, the swelling of my cunt lips... then He would place His fingers in my mouth, commanding me to suck on them, and clean His fingers of my juices. my legs began to give in, and i knew i had no choice but to lower myself onto the beam. Carefully i moved downward, the sensitivity of my breasts decreased slightly but the pain now centered on the most tender part of my body. my weight crushing my pussy against the board. i was only able to withstand this pain for so long before i had to push upward again, straining against my legs, pulling against my breasts... Master then picked up the crop and began swatting against my breasts. i cried out with each stroke, every movement increased the pain in my nipples as my breasts jerked and heaved... my full breasts slowly became redder with each strike of the crop. Master, ignored my desperate cries and lifted each breast higher to swat the undersides. This forced me to lower back onto the beam, to keep from pulling my nipples apart. Tears began to flow down my cheeks, but the look on His face made it worthwhile. i could see, as He stood back away from me, that my red tormented body was beautiful to Him, my tears were His pleasure. Master placed the crop back on the table, and lightly ran a fur glove over my now red skin. i was able to lift myself back up onto my toes, and my swollen cunt throbbed and burned with pain and desire. i used my arms to hold my body upright, my legs having lost most of their strength. i could feel the burning in the muscles of my arms and shoulders. A cool sheen of sweat covered my aching body, and i had never felt so alive.... my head hung down, chin resting on my chest as Master fondled my sore cunt, and i nearly came in His hand... every touch could push me over the edge now... Master stepped away from me, watching me as i struggled to hold my weight... "CUM FOR ME," He commanded. With that my body shuddered and stiffened, and went lax, slamming my cunt down onto the bar as i began to cum so strongly i thought i would pass out from the pressure. Master released me from my bonds, and laid me down on the carpet beside the bed. Curling up next to me He held me close to warm my now shivering flesh. He whispered in my ear, over and over, how proud He was of me... how much He loved me and what a good girl i was... Until we slept, curled in a ball, thankful for the deep rug, because much rest would be needed for what was to come... The Horse So, I'm just sitting here watching my soaps waiting for my son to get back. He went to the airport to pick up his college teammate. They were both rising sophomores on the local college baseball team. His friend was flying in early and the dorms wouldn't open for another week, so my son offered to let him stay at our house, and I was willing to open my doors to my son's friend for a week. In fact, I was more than willing to, as this summer had become boring with just my son and I at home together. Not that I wasn't married, it was just that my husband was never home. Let me give you a bit of a back story. I met Clark in middle school and we started dating. This continued all the way into high school. Clark wasn't insanely popular, but he did play sports and hung out with the jocks. He was about 5'7" then and still is today in fact. During his high school athlete years, he stayed in fairly good shape. Incidentally, during our freshman year we both decided we were ready to take our relationship to the next level. We had dated for two years now, and thought things were serious enough. So one night after letting our hormones get the best of us, we finally had sex. Being stupid kids at the time, we didn't think about using protection and a week or two later I realized I was pregnant. I tried to play it off like I wasn't for as long as possible, but my parents eventually realized what was going on. At this point, I couldn't bring myself to have an abortion and decided to have the kid. I have never regretted this decision to this day. Brandon has been amazing. However, with 3 more years of high school left, there was no way I could take care of a kid. My parents agreed to take care of him for the next three years, but when I graduated high school, I was to become his full time mother. I was grateful that they were willing to do this. I spent the rest of high school working as much as I could to make enough money to support a child upon graduation. Then, would come home and spend as much time as I could with Brandon. Clark decision to stay with me never wavered. He was going to be there to raise him. This made me love him even more. While he couldn't have a job during the year due to sports, he worked as a mechanic during the summer and after graduating, received a full time job from the local mechanic garage. This money plus what I had saved up allowed us to by a house. Shortly after, we married. In high school, Clark wasn't the greatest athlete or that strong or big, but he gave his all in whatever sport he played. He took that same philosophy to life. He played hard, he loved me hard, and he worked hard. This would pay off, as his hard work eventually let him run the mechanic garage. However, this duty took a lot of time and put a lot of stress on Clark. He spent more and more time away from home. He gained a lot of weight. However, it seemed the more time he spent away from me, and with every pound he gained, I got in better shape. With him being able to support us financially, I was able to be a stay at home housewife. My typical day consisted of taking care of the house, and then staying in shape. When my son started getting serious into working out for baseball, his workouts encouraged me to work out. Now at 32 years old, all the women on the block tell me I look like I'm 25. I am pretty short at 5'2", but I have 34DD breasts that are still perky due to my weight training. I have a nice round, shapely ass and thick thighs, but a small waist that when I turn at the right angle, you can see a few ripples of my abs. I also spend my time tanning so I have a nice bronze skin color, which makes my blonde hair and blue eyes really pop. In fact, I look better now than I did when I was 25. However, my husband hasn't seems to notice. We maybe have sex once a month and I always have to initiate it. Even then, the sex is not that enjoyable. His weight gain has made it uncomfortable to have sex in any position other than cowgirl, and while I love cowgirl, it gets boring. Plus, his added weight has made him a little less equipped. He was never really large when younger, maybe around 6", but now his dick seemed to be shrouded in fat and could only use maybe 4" of it. In other words, I was as sexy as ever and sexually unsatisfied. Now I do not have any intention of cheating on Clark. He has done everything in the word for me, and I would be crazy to throw that away, but sometimes I wonder if I am missing out on anything. He is the only guy I have ever been with and now that our love life has stalled, I do catch myself staring at other men a little too long, but what is a married woman to do? So, I'm just sitting here watching my soaps waiting for my son to get back. I'm wearing what has become my normal lounging outfit: a white tank top and spandex shorts. The white tank top making me look especially tan today. Then the door opens and Brandon walks in carrying what looks to be a very large, heavy bag. He is almost a spitting image of his father at that age: black hair, blue eyes, but a bit taller than Clark at 5'9". He was in great shape. I think the last time I heard weighing about 160 lbs. Not especially large for a college baseball player, but he was more of a speedy centerfielder type. I pop up immediate, "Oh, honey you need any help carrying anything?" I ask as his face strains as he walks to the staircase. He drops it panting a bit for breath. "No, mom. Thanks though." He gives a small smile, when my attention turns to the man walking through the door. He was huge! So much taller than my son! He had to be at least 6'4" and the casual t-shirt he was wearing looked like spandex as it hugged the crevasse of his pecs, and every crater of his 8-pack. The way his biceps bulged out of his sleeve looked as if it would pop at any moment. His jawline was super sharp and it was even more noticeable due to his brown hair being buzzed short. A bit of 5 o'clock shadow hugged his face up to his high cheekbones just below his deep, ocean blue eyes. He was carrying a large duffel bag on his back and two bags as large as the one Brandon was carrying under each arm. He walks through the door effortlessly, and stops behind Brandon. "Oh, Mom, this is Colt," My son says pointing to the Adonis that just walked through my door. Colt drops his bags to the floor with a loud thud! My god! Those must have weighed 75 lbs. each. "Nice to meet you," he says in a deep voice, and extends his hand out to shake mine. Jesus! It was the size of my head. I put my hand in his expecting him to crush it, but he was very gentle, understanding his own strength. I just nod and smile, not quite sure what my voice would sound like if I tried to speak right now. His eyes scan my body unapologetically and smiles. Wait. Did he just check me out? Right now, in front of my son? He looks me in the eye like he didn't even care that I clearly realized what he just did. As appalled as I should have been at his actions, I couldn't help feeling a rush of pride at his obvious approval of my looks. He pulls his hand back and lifts his bags like it is not a difficult task at all. Brandon walks up to his room and Colt follows giving me one last smirk. I watch his jeans hug his ass as he takes each step. Once he's out of view, I collapse back down on the couch and take a deep breath. 'What was wrong with me?' I thought. I felt like a groupie or a little schoolgirl. I shake my head a collect myself. 'I was just taken by surprise,' I think to myself, 'He is a good-looking guy, but I've met hundreds of good-looking guys. He is just another.' I stand up walking to the kitchen nodding to myself convinced of what I just said. That's when I looked down at what I was wearing. No wonder he was smiling and checking me out. I never thought about it before, but this tank top exposed a bit more cleavage than acceptable for company and these shorts aren't exactly modest. I rush up the stairs to my room to change. I stare at my wardrobe wondering what I was going to wear. I haven't worried about this in forever. I pulled out top after top tossing each one to the floor. I should want to just cover myself up, but I couldn't help feeling like I should try to impress Colt just a little bit. Eventually, I settled on a nice button up blouse that hugged my waist, but covered my breasts well. I also put on a pair of jeans. I hear the shower running as I get to the stairs and walk back into the den. Brandon is sitting on the couch. He seems to have recovered from carrying the heavy luggage. Then it hit me: Colt was in the shower. I couldn't help but imagine what his naked body looked like with water cascading down his chiseled torso. I start to feel flustered, but shake out of it. I walk down and sit next to Brandon, who had changed the channel from my soap to SportsCenter. "How was the ride?" I ask trying to start some small talk with my son. "It was fine," he says shortly. I was kind of upset, not that he didn't talk, but I was hopping he would tell me something more about Colt, so I decided to ask myself. "So, you said you two were going to be roommates this year?" I knew this was true I just wanted to open him up. "Yeah, it should be real fun this year," his eyes don't move from the screen as he watches some player make a diving catch in the outfield. "Oh, really? Fun year? What's gunna be so fun about it?" I ask, my voice encouraging him to elaborate more. "Well, we got pretty close last season, and he's one of the best dude's I know. Plus, it will be nice to have a teammate as a roommate so we can workout and practice together during the fall." I nod and hear footsteps walking down the stairs. My head turns instinctively as I see Colt's torso and head become exposed as he walks further down the stairs. "You ready BP?" Colt asks. He is wearing a different shirt, this one hugging him just as tight. "BP, huh?" I ask looking at my son with a smile. "Is that what they call you?" "It sure is, Ms. Peterson." Colt says stepping next to the couch. I can smell his musky aroma from my seat, and I feel myself blush a bit. "It's Mrs. Peterson," I say boldly, "but you can call me Emma." Colt smiles a bit of a wicked grin. "Yes, ma'am, Ms. Peterson." This sentence rolled out of his mouth so deep it was as if I could hear his vocal cords in my ear. He just ignored the fact that I was married, even I after I corrected him. Thinking to myself, 'What kind of game was he playing?' "So, what do they call you?" I ask returning his challenge, leaning back casually, playing cool. His smile grown a bit, "The Horse," he says matter-of-factly. "Why do they call you that?" My brow furrows. I was genuinely intrigued. That isn't an everyday nickname. "You know, Emma." He smiles and cocks his head playfully to the side. "I'm not quite sure." Hearing him say my name in that deep voice sent a rush through my stomach. "You ready to go?" he says turning to Brandon. "Yeah," he stands standing up, overly eager to get out of the middle of Colt and my discussion. "Where are you two going?" I ask with a curious smile. Brandon turns back to me. "Just going to get something to eat. Is that okay?" "Oh, yeah!" I respond. They turn around and head towards the door. 'Great! More time alone' I think sarcastically. "You don't mind if I come do you. I'll pay. I haven't eaten dinner yet and your father won't be home for quite a while as usual." I stand up and face them pulling my blouse down. "Are you okay with that, Colt?" Colt looks at me sizing my motives up, then to Brandon, and then to me. His lips curl into a grin. "Sure. Can't turn down a free meal." I grin and squeak a little to loud, "Good!" I swallow trying to overcorrect my voice and walk around the two boys to the door. "I get a chance to get to know my son's new roommate." I accidentally, but really on purpose, brush into Colt as I say this and his body doesn't budge. It was rock hard. I smile like a schoolgirl, but don't let them see. I catch myself bouncing my ass back and forth more than I normally do as I walk in front of them to the car, but I don't stop. 'Clark would be so pissed if he saw this.' I decide to take them to a really nice local sports bar. I tried to convince myself that it was a little treat for me and not so I could impress Colt. When we arrive, I notice the young hostess eyeball Colt eagerly and I don't blame her in the slightest. This hunk would stand out on a Hollywood movie set. We are shown to our seats and the waitress, much like the hostess, pays more attention to Colt. Her over the top flirting was clear as she bent over the table putting her cleavage right in his face. I almost laughed out loud at the desperation of this girl, but was able to contain myself. The conversation danced around what each of the boys did during the summer. I sat there and listened hanging on every word that came out of Colt's mouth. He had a remarkable ability to make even the most trivial of activities sound magnificent, mysterious, and sexy. I would catch myself holding my breath and then trying to hide my gasping breaths afterwards. Eventually the food arrived and the conversation halted a bit. Colt and Brandon both ordered steaks, while I decided to get a salad hopefully to seem as ladylike as I could. Colt's phone vibrates on the table and I notice that the girls name in the contact area is 'Ashley.' He quickly looks down at his phone and then ignores it as if nothing happened. I assume it is his girlfriend and I feel my stomach sink slightly. 'Why? Why should I care if he is dating someone? I have a husband, goddammit! I'm off limits, anyway.' I decide to break the hiatus of conversation, "So, Colt, or should I say 'Horse'?" I give a little smirk at the use of his nickname. "Please, tell me, how did you get that nickname?" "Mom, stop," Brandon pleads putting down his knife obviously annoyed. I smile and giggle. "No, I want to know, you don't just get called 'Horse' for no reason." I lean forward just a bit subconsciously pushing my tits into the table. I notice Colt nonchalantly eating his food and occasionally looking up at me with a smirk. "Mom, please, drop it," Brandon pleads firmly. He stares at me with a look in his eye like he would not ever want me to know. I hold his stare feeling very confused. I look at Colt who is looking from Brandon to me still with that smirk across his face. "Colt." I pause and look at Brandon sternly. He cowers back a bit realizing nothing he says is going to stop me. "Do you want to tell me why they call you 'Horse'?" I let out a small giggle that I've been trying to hold back. 'Seriously, Em? A giggle.' Colt looks at Brandon again, then back to me, and his smirk turns to a grin. "Of course, Emma." The sound of my name on his tongue makes me feel warm again. "As you can see, I am a big guy. I have big hands, big feet, big muscles, big..." He pauses and looks me directly in the eye. I actually feel my pussy tingle with his intense stare. I see Brandon sink in his seat. "...Well, big everything. So, when coaches or scouts or anyone really looks at me and then look down to the sheet and read 6'5" 245 lbs., they assume that I am not that athletic. Which makes sense because most guys my size are doomed to a lifetime at first base." He gives a little laugh and I nervously laugh with him. It is amazing the presence he commands, and he does it so effortlessly. "However, I have very good speed despite my size. In fact, there are only a few guys on the team that can beat me in a foot race. Little BP here being one of them." He gives Brandon a small punch in the shoulder and Brandon is forced to lean way over to his right just by the weight of Colt's fist. He then glues his deep pools of blue back to me and I feel a drip on my pussy. 'Good God! This man was sexy' "So, when you combine my size with my athletic ability it seems almost animalistic, almost...like a Horse." He gives a big grin and sips at his drink again. The confidence, the slow, deep voice, everything about the way Colt talked gave me goose bumps. He spoke as if every eye was glue to him, and they were. Like he just knew no one would dare interrupt him, and no one wanted to. "Well, that makes a lot of sense. See, Brandon, wasn't so bad," I say and give Brandon a little nod. Brandon just shakes his head and looks at his food. I was confused by his reaction, but didn't care as Colt's voice sent waves through my ears again. "Or, its just my name: Colt." I giggle way more than I should have. Brandon notices and gives me a weird look, I look at Colt and he is just smiling, like he is totally used to it. "That's clever. I didn't even think of that," I mumble as I take a sip of my water, clearly embarrassed. Colt's eyes never leave mine, and my entire body tingles. "So, Emma..." I put my drink down and tried to hold in my anticipation of what he was about to ask. "Enough about me. Tell me about you. What do you do when BP's not around?" He stares at me with a look of complete intrigue in his eye. It is almost like Brandon isn't even at the table. It is just Colt and me. "Oh well," I say flustered at him taking an interest in my life, "there really isn't much about me." I let out a little giggle. 'C'mon, Em,' I think to myself, 'I haven't giggled this much since grade school.' "Oh, I'm sure there is. Take me through your day." He leans back in his seat, but his gaze does not waiver, and I can't take my eyes out of his. I realized at his words that my pussy was completely wet. 'Am I this lonely or is he just this good?' "Well," I begin slowly, "my day normally consists of cleaning and cooking really. Then if I can, maybe going out to a bar with my girlfriends," I add this just to seem like I am not a complete loser mom to Colt. I haven't actually gone out in months. His phone vibrates again, and immediately my eyes drop to it. The name reads 'Christine,' but he doesn't even notice. He keeps his gaze on me. I catch my breaths speeding up and try to control them. "Where I assume you get hit on endlessly." He smiles again. There is something about his smile that makes me want to tell him everything about me, but at the same time completely afraid of what he is doing to me. "Oh, well, what can I say?" I say joking flipping my hair flirtatiously, still incredibly nervous wondering what was going on behind his gorgeous eyes. I look at Brandon's seat and he has disappeared. He must have gone to the bathroom, but I was so transfixed with Colt that I didn't even notice that he left. "But it doesn't matter anyway because, alas..." I hold up my wedding ring finger and point to it, "I have a husband." Colt keeps his stare, but doesn't say anything. I don't want to seem weak so I keep the stare on him. I feel a wetness drip down my inner left thigh, as the silence grows intense. His phone vibrates one more time, and the name reads 'Becca.' Damn, this stud is seeing at least 3 different girls and couldn't care less, as he makes no reaction to it. He leans forward and takes a drink. "So tell me about him." Even after all that, I was shocked by his boldness. "My husband?" "Who else?" He gives an evil grin. I wish he'd stop doing that. It was driving me insane. "He, uh, he..." I didn't even know what to say. "He looks a lot like Brandon actually, especially when he was younger." "What about now?" he says almost interrupting my sentence. I can tell he is very interested. "Well," I look at Colt's arms and chiseled chest stretching his t-shirt. "He has gained quite a bit of weight." I notice Colt's eyebrows rise at my comment. "I mean that just happens as you get older," I say defending Clark, but more importantly defending myself. I didn't want Colt to think I married a loser, and in that moment for the first time in my life, I started feeling resentment for marrying Clark. 'Why couldn't he have kept his weight under control?' I thought. The Horse "You haven't, it seems. In fact, you have one of the best bodies I have ever seen," Colt for once is not grinning. Instead his face is completely blank. The compliment left me frozen. I couldn't even breathe. I had forgotten how. I am staring at the most gorgeous man I have ever laid eyes on and he thinks my body is the best he's ever seen. Colt kept his stare on me, and it was too much to handle. I felt he was challenging me, he was challenging my husband and he wasn't even here to be challenged. My resentment for Clark grew. 'Colt's right, I have kept my body in shape, why couldn't Clark?' "Are you two enjoying your meal?" I hear in my ear. I quickly snap my head in that direction and see the same waitress there, her eyes glued to Colt as well. For once Colt looks away from me and I felt the tension leave my body. He looks at the waitress, his smile returning, "Everything is just fine," he says. I feel a hint of jealousy as he looks at her. Her voice squeaks out a bit to eagerly, "If you need anything, just ask." She puts her hand on his shoulder and lets it run down his chest ever so slightly, and that hint of jealousy fills my body. Brandon returns to his seat as she walks away. "What's going on?" he says looking at my face. Apparently, I was not hiding my emotions as well as I thought. "Oh, nothing," I lied. I knew I couldn't look Colt in the eyes without being transfixed again and needed a chance to collect myself. "If you just excuse me, I'm going to go to the little girls room." I stand up and as I do, so does Colt. Taken aback by his sudden chivalry I look at him again. There is no smile; he is just plainly looking at me. I felt upset. 'Why wasn't he smiling at me? Did I do something wrong?' I am able to leave without making a further of a fool of myself. In the bathroom, I walk into the stall. I slip down out of my jeans and look at my panties. Like I suspected, they were soaked. There was a large, coincidentally, baseball sized wet spot in the center, and I could smell my scent drift up into my nose. I quickly pull them up and walk to the sink. I look in the mirror. I notice my eyes are wide and my face is just a little pale. I start taking deep breaths. 'What is wrong with me? I am a happily married woman, and he is just some kid. Go back out there and treat him like that.' After I think I have myself convinced, I walk back out there to the table. I see Colt looking at his phone, probably responding to all those little sluts. 'Sluts? Really? Stop it. You are a grown woman. You don't call girls sluts. You aren't even competing with them.' I nod to myself and walk back to the table. Brandon is in the middle of some story. Colt who is only partially paying attention looks up from his phone, as Brandon finishes. "And that's when Coach said, 'swing away, what's the worst that could happen," Brandon says as he leads into a laugh. Colt laughs as well, but with much less enthusiasm. "What did I miss?" I ask as I walk around the table to sit down. I catch Colt staring at my ass. His eyes slowly scan my body to my breasts and then look me directly in the eye as I take a seat. I feel warmth from his approval and boldness once again, but am able to shake it off immediately. "Oh, not missing anything. Just a story," Brandon says as he finishes his drink. "Are you ready to go?" He asks me. "I am if Colt is." I look at Colt and he nods. "After you," he says. I pay and we leave. I do not look at them or speak on the drive home. I have never had such an exhausting dinner. When we get home, I go to my room and change out of my panties. The wetness has dried a bit, but they most definitely need a wash. I dig my hand into my underwear drawer until I find what I am looking for. I pull out my small silver vibrator, or what I call my 'silver bullet.' I sit in the middle of my walk-in closet and begin rubbing it around my clit. Almost instantly I can feel the orgasm coming on. I think of Colt, his deep blue eyes, his bulging muscles, his deep sultry voice. The orgasm that hit me was one of the most intense I have felt in probably three years. I couldn't make a sound. My eyes roll back in my head, my head tilts back, I grab my left tit for support and to heighten it further. First my hips rock back and forth, but eventually I stop. My body tenses up, and for a few seconds I feel every thought and feeling I had during dinner build up in me, and almost as quickly as they built, they released. I collapsed against the wall panting for breath. All the tension removed. I felt like a completely different woman now: one that could handle herself around Colt and not act like such a schoolgirl. I put on a pair of yoga pants for comfort and a t-shirt, trying to be a bit more modest than earlier, and walk back down into the den. Brandon and Colt are sitting on the couch already watching a baseball game, so I sit on the far end next to Brandon. I curl up taking up as little space as possible and sit silently as the two boys talk baseball. Occasionally, I catch Colt's eye's drift my direction getting a good look at my legs and hips in the yoga pants and I start regretting my decision to wear them, but knew I couldn't change now because that would be even more suspicious. A few hours later, Clark walks through the door. There is a sudden look of confusion on his face as he stares at Colt. I don't say anything because the less I say the more I can control myself in Colt's presence. Colt stands up and introduces himself, "Colt." Hid voice is firm and commanding. He extends his large hand to shake my husband's. "You must be Clark. I'm Brandon's teammate." My husband slowly extends his hand and I can see his grimace as Colt shakes it very firmly. I notice the height difference between the two is astounding at almost a foot, and even in their body language Colt is overpowering. Colt standing perfectly erect, not giving up an inch of his large frame, while Clark is leaning back almost frightened of this hunk of a man before him. When their hands separate Clark flexes his obviously trying let the blood rush back to it. He looks up at Colt and says, "Nice to meet you," in a voice that says otherwise. He walks away and every once of me new that I shouldn't, but I couldn't help but feel more attraction for Colt. That night the three men sat mostly in silence as they watched the baseball game. I instead watched how Clark responded to Colt's presence. Clark seemed very uncomfortable, fidgeting in his seat looking at Colt with a look of awe and suspicion. Colt on the other hand was indifferent to Clark even being there. He watched the game, and every so often, I saw him making eye contact with me and I would quickly look away embarrassed. I had pretty much given up on seeming confident in front of Colt and at this point was just trying to not lust after him and do something stupid. Clark and I eventually went to bed. As he was getting under the sheets, I walked in wearing one of my sexiest nightgowns: the black, lacy material hugging my hips stopping just past my aching pussy. My breasts were almost spilling out over the top of the tight cups. "Hey, baby," I say trying to sound as sexy as possible, leaning against the dresser with one hand on my cocked out hip. Clark's eyes look at me and widen. "Well, hello there." He lies back in the bed and I strut over and sit next to him and start stroking his leg. "It seems you're in the mood." I just nod and grab his hand. I slide two of his fingers into my mouth and start sucking on them imitating a blowjob. His eyes light up, but he quickly sits up. "We can't, baby. We have company in the house." I pull his fingers out, "That will make it even sexier." I crawl over him so that my breasts dangle in front of his face and slowly push him back against his pillow. I slide my hands down his chest and over the big bulge in his belly pulling the sheets as I go. I see he is clearly aroused and is pitching a tent in his pajamas. I lick the pole through his shorts and his dick twitches. I smile and look at him in the eyes. They are wider than I have ever seen them. He was definitely not expecting this when he came home tonight. I nibble on his cock through the PJs, and he let's out a small moan. It has been weeks since we have even cuddled, so I know he was enjoying this. I slide my hands into the seam of his pants and pull them down slowly with my whole body as my ass goes up in the air. His cock pops out like a tiny spring. I close my eyes and wrap my lips around the head. "Fuck, Emma, that feels great," Clark mutters as my lips slide down his shaft. I push down to the base and then even go a bit further, pushing my lips into his fat around the base as far as I can go. I keep my eyes closed and imagine that it isn't Clark's hard cock that's in my mouth. Instead, I am sucking off Colt. I let my tongue slide down the underside of his cock and bury my face deeper. Then I begin to bob up and down keeping my mouth clenched tight around it. I imagine Colt lying there, his muscles flexing, his eyes burning into the top of my head as I please him, his deep, sexy voice moaning with the pleasure I gave him. Holy shit! I was cumming. I was cumming just thinking about blowing Colt. My hips thrust a bit and I begin to moan as my orgasm hits its apex. The vibrations of my voice on his dick send Clark over the edge and he shoots his load right into my mouth. It is not that impressive. Not even enough to cover my tongue, but I pull off as swallow like a good wife should. "I'm so sorry, baby. I couldn't hold off anymore. It was just so good," Clark says trying desperately to apologize as he sees my look of dissatisfaction. "It's okay, darling." I give his dick a little kiss as it pathetically deflates, and I crawl over to my side of the bed and get under the sheets. He puts his arm over my waist and holds me for a few minutes before rolling over and falling asleep. I couldn't sleep. It was a combination of sexual frustration, and anger at both Clark and myself. I was angry that I came thinking about give another man a blowjob. Not just another man, but the same man that was down the hall right now. However, a bigger part of me was mad at Clark. Was what Colt implied earlier right? Should I be mad at Clark for falling out of shape? I kept in shape, he didn't. I wanted to have great sex, he didn't. I could obviously please him, but he couldn't please me. He hadn't in years. And then seeing him next to Colt: Clark wasn't even a man by comparison. What a pathetic little shit. The worst part was I was mad at myself for being mad at Clark. I was fuming. I get up silently and walk down stairs to get some water to cool off. I grab a glass and fill it up in the sink. As, I do I hear a footstep behind me followed by a voice. "Well, hello there, pretty lady." The voice was deep and slow and I immediately knew whom it belonged to. I spin around and as expected I see Colt standing in the doorway. He was wearing gym shorts and no shirt. My eyes scan his body. It was more amazing than I ever believed it could be. His pecs look like giant rectangles sitting under his skin, each grove in his abs had to be an inch deep, and, my god, there were so many of them. His abs just keep going into his shorts, and unlike Clark, there didn't seem to be a hair on his torso. So much of my body wanted to walk up to him and feel his chest, run my fingers over his washboard stomach, even slide my hands into his shorts. "What..." My voiced squeaks with fear, not of what he might do to me, but of what I might do to him. I collect myself and tried again, "What are you doing up?" I ask. He takes a few steps into the room and leans against the counter about four or five feet in front of me, "I heard footsteps and thought I should check it out." I immediately imagine what someone would do if they tried to break in and saw this colossal hunk. Probably piss their pants. Then I compared that to what they would do if Clark did the same. He would get laughed at and hurt badly, maybe even killed. Then I imagined if Clark and Colt fought. I imagine Colt beating Clark to a pulp. The thought of Colt shirtless, sweaty body covered in my husband's blood sent shivers down my spine. "Nothing going on. Just little, old me," I say doing a much better job containing my attraction. I put the glass to my lips and drink. "Emma, you are not old, and you have a lot going on." He isn't smiling; his face is dead serious. I feel my own face get hot and I can tell I went a bit red. I can see his pec muscle flex involuntarily...or maybe he did it on purpose. Does he know what he is doing to me? I had had it. This kid could not so blatantly hit on another man's wife. 'I am going to stop him once and for all,' I thought. "Thank you, Colt, but that is a bit inappropriate." 'Really? That was my big move. I am pathetic.' "Like your outfit," he retorts. It wasn't a question. It was a statement. I look down and realize I was still wearing the slutty nightgown from earlier. I feel completely stupid and ultimately vulnerable. My tits are almost hanging out and my ass is just about showing and I am walking around the house. 'Did I want to be caught like this? Was this my subconscious coming through?' "I'm sorry," I say trying to cover my exposed bust. As I put my arm up to hide it, he grabs my forearm. "Don't," is all he says. I feel a rush unlike anything I have felt so far. His touch sends me over the edge, I get goose bumps, and my pussy is incredibly warm and starting to get wet once again. I just look at him; he was closer, maybe a foot away from me. His presence seems so large now: larger than before. He moves my arm, and I don't resist. I didn't just let him; I wanted him to see them, 'but I shouldn't,' I thought. 'This is wrong.' He then places my hands on each pec. My pussy almost explodes. Feeling his hard muscles sent waves of pleasure down my spine. I knew at this moment. I didn't care anymore. I didn't care that my husband was upstairs. I wanted this man, and everything about him. "Would you still like to know why they called me 'The Horse'?" He whispers in a low, low voice. The sound filled my ears like an audible orgasm. His gaze was in my eyes again. "You...you..." I can't speak. I am petrified with absolute lust. I strain and finally get out, "You told me earlier." It was barely a whisper, not even a mutter. "I told you one reason, but it isn't the real reason. The reason Brandon didn't want you to find out." His wicked grin comes back. I was intrigued now more than I thought humanly possible. It was as if he didn't tell me I was going to just collapse. "But the real reason, I can't really tell you. I would have to show you. Do you want me to show you?" His voice was so slow, like his was talking to a little kid, like he knew what effect he was having on me. All I can do was nod, which I did sheepishly. He steps back and I feel myself lean forward almost desperate to still feel him. He slides his fingers into his gym shorts. Given his height, his waistband was inline with my chests. I knew this was wrong, but now we were about to cross a line: a line that if he crossed there was no going back. I wasn't exactly sure what was going to happen, but whatever it was, it would change me. It seemed to take forever for him to slowly start to lower his shorts. I wasn't sure whether he was doing it so slow or I was seeing in slow motion this surreal moment. His shorts lower and I see his pubic bone. It is just as hairless as his chest. I bite my lip knowing what is about to come out. His shorts lower more and that's when I see it. The base of the thickest cock I have ever seen. It is like my forearm was growing out of his pubic bone. I felt my jaw drop with his shorts. It lowers more and more. It is just as thick all the way down, but it just keeps going. It couldn't be real, it just couldn't. Eventually his shorts drop to the floor and the whole thing is exposed. It is the longest, thickest cock I have ever laid eyes on, and I had seen a few dirty movies in my life. It is still soft and it was longer than my husband when fully erect, even when he was younger. It must be 8" just hanging there. I am transfixed and can't take my eyes off of it. My pussy is on fire with lust. "They call me 'Horse' because of this. Because of my horse cock." His hand reaches down to it and holds the base of it up. Even with his large hand holding it, there is just as much sticking out as is hidden. "Would you like to see me hard?" He asks, not waiting for my reply. He slowly starts stroking it. It seems to take forever to get to the fat head and back down. I notice for the first time he is looking hungrily at my breasts. After just two slow strokes he looks to be fully erect. My God! It is even bigger. It would take three of his hands just to cover it and no telling how many of mine. It is even thicker now, a little bit smaller than a soup can. It is protruding straight at my face, like it is staring at me. I see the shaft has several veins leading to the head. I never in my life wanted to put my lips around a cock so badly. I want to feel its warmth. I want to stroke it. I want to suck it. I want it in my throbbing pussy. My pussy is absolutely soaked right now. I can feel some of the liquid dripping down my leg. Everything about this naked man in front of me is a God and I wanted to feel like his Goddess. "Do you want to stroke it?" He asks with that grin growing wider by my reaction. I just nod and reach my hand out for it tenderly. When I do, he steps back so I can't grasp his glorious piece of meat leaving his gym shorts on the floor. I take a step forward like a little toddler and try to grab it again, and he steps back once again. He laughs, and I look up at his eyes full of lust, pleading to let me feel his manliness. "Tell me what you want," he whispers, his voice rumbling. I try to say "I want it," but I mutter something incomprehensible. My breaths are sporadic. I can't even tell how loud I am breathing. I don't care. "What, Emma?" He smiles at me. He is enjoying seeing me like this, complete putty in his hands. "I want it," I mutter. I look back down at his huge cock, I see the blood pulsating in each vein and it twitches. I gasp at the sudden movement of his thick, veiny cock. "What do you want?" he says just toying with me now. His eyes are on fire. He is thoroughly enjoying seeing my lust, my desperate desire. "I want your horse cock!" I whisper as loud as I could whisper. 'Oh my god, did that just come out of my mouth?' "What about your husband?" he asks looking deep into my eyes again. They are so gorgeous. His muscles are so big. He is so big everywhere. "Fuck my husband," I mutter. I can't believe I am saying these things, but this man, this cock in front of me. I have to have it. "I need your huge cock." I feet my pussy throb at the thought of trying to fit this giant fucking cock all the way inside it. I step forward once more to try and grab his cock and he steps back one more time. He then reaches up to my face and rubs my cheek with his manly hands and I feel that similar rush in my body. "I am going to have some fun with you this week." He puts his finger over my lips and I feel my knees shake slightly. His touch finally leaves me, and he turns and walks away completely naked, his cock completely erect. I stare at his perfectly chiseled ass and can actually see his dick swing to the outside of his hip as he walks to the stairs and back to sleep. I look down to the floor, and see his gym shorts just sitting there. I bend down and pick them up and immediately bring them to my face and smell his musky scent. It smells delicious, so strong, so manly. I fall to the floor, right there in the kitchen. I let my hand slide into my panties and I start rubbing my clit like I'd never be able to do it again. I imagine Colt's cock. I imagine sucking on it, pleasing him, and him moaning to my mouth. I even imagine him making me gag on it, forcing it down my throat, having his way with me, and cumming in my mouth. I orgasm at the very though of me swallowing all of his thick, creamy cum. It's just as powerful as the one in my closet. I let out a series of moans, followed by a silent gasp, as my body collapses in ecstasy. The Horse I open my eyes realizing I was breathing hard, my chest rising and falling with each breath. I slowly catch my breath. "Fuck," I say to myself as I stare at the kitchen ceiling. Just a few hours with him and I have resorted to masturbating to the thought of him in my kitchen. What have I gotten myself into? The Horse Farm They had met the day before at the dude ranch. It was a natural. They both rode English, not Western, and the ranch actually had some English trained horses. They spent the day riding through the wood trails. They shared the picnic lunch by secluded stream, horse hobbled, eating grass. Laughed and giggled. Then, not knowing where her boldness came from, she kissed him, hard. And he had kissed back. She was frightened by her reaction. She had just met the man 2 hours ago and she was wet down below. They rode some more and as the sun set headed back towards the ranch for the nightly bonfire and sing along. It felt good to be in his arms, singing the silly camp songs, smelling his smell. As the embers died and happy couples and lonely single went back to their cabins, she turned to him. "I want you," she said, "Please make love with me tonight." He had smiled and kissed her. Back in his cabin they undressed with the moonlight coming in though the windows and then made love tenderly for hours. Her orgasms were some of the best she had ever had. And she knew his were also. She had read all the right magazines, Cosmo, Glamour, and even surfed Adult web sites looking for sex tips, new positions to try and so on. Sexually, she was very satisfied with herself, she knew what she wanted and how to get it. When she awoke next to him the next morning, something was odd. "Don't be frighten my darling," were the first words she heard. "I have bound you, just a little, and will release you if you want." She noticed that where were leather cuffs with rings and buckles on them around each of her wrists and ankles. "I would like to show you something, something I think you will like, something I think you have never before experienced. At you word, I'll stop. Do you trust me?" She was strangely turned on. He could be this pyscho killer from LA, she'd seen a television special on that a few months back. But her heart told her otherwise, and her pussy also told her otherwise. She slowly nodded yes. "There are two rules. The first is you have to do anything I say. The second is that if you don't want to, you don't have to, but the game is over. I will have control over your body, but you control the game by being able to stop it. Do you agree." Again, she nodded yes. "Let go outside." "WHAT?" she yelled. "Do you want me to stop the game?" he asked. "People will see us." "It is early, barely after sunrise, no one will see us, and besides, what if they do? Do you want me to stop the game?" She shook her head slowly no. He open the cabin door. The cold air caught her by surprise, but it wasn't' too bad. It was going to be another scorcher today. He led her over to the dressage track then quickly handcuffed her to the top rail. "What he hell?" "Do you want me to stop the game?" he asked. She was scared, but very turned on. She wanted to run and hide and go back to the comfort of the accountant who knew how to lick her but whose dick was never hard enough, or the carpenter who was rough with her but always needed a bath. She was safe there, her girlfriends all had boyfriends like that. She shook her head the way her cunt voted, to stay. He cuffed her legs to the post, she was spread out, vulnerable. "In the city, I'd use a gag to give you the freedom to scream, out here, it won't be necessary." He knelt before her and buried his face in her cunt. His tongue invaded her. She'd been licked before, by countless guys and girls and even by him last night. She loved it. But she had never been licked like this before. She was his, totally his. Her orgasm hit and her cry split the morning sky. A brace a pheasants was flushed from the brush. His tongue never let up. She saw colors and smelled smells. Her orgasm would not stop. When she came to, he was standing next to her. Her body still shook. "Do you want me to stop the game?" he asked.