Colt

1 A Lark in the Park

There she is guys! Now don’t go humpin’ her! That would be my job, anyway!

I’ve seen her maybe 3 or 4 times this spring at the dog park, always walking toward me and then past me. I’m getting eye candy but it’s still wrapped in cellophane! From 400 feet or so away, I can tell her by her legs—long, taut, thin, tanned. At about 6 feet tall, she must have a 34-inch inseam. A man can only have one thought seeing legs like this: getting them wrapped around his head or waist—or maybe in some way more creative! At about 200 feet, I next see her faded denim cut-offs, washed so many times they seem translucent, so short half the pockets show on her thighs. At about 100 feet, I examine her blouse—always tied, revealing a tight, slender belly and just covering firm, small breasts, each the size of a few mouthfuls! At 50 feet I move up her slender Audrey Hepburn neck to her beautiful face, highlighted by chiseled cheek bones, puggish nose, and Lake Michigan-blue eyes, framed by blonde curls.

We’ve never spoken. Just “Hello” and a smile. I usually stand there like an imbecile, speechless, and watch her, her tiny waist and fanny gliding away from me. I think most men are intimidated by women who look like this. I am anyway. But, fuck it, I say today. At least get her name.

Unlike other times, her dog and mine start playing together, so she stops. We stand there, our eyes hidden by sunglasses. “I’ve got a name for you,” I say. “Actually, it’s a nickname. I use it when you pop into my head!”

“Excuse me? When I pop into your head?” she asks, looking over her sunglasses. “What does that mean?

“It’s Colt. Your nickname’s Colt! I’ll be sitting at my computer, working in my yard, walking here—and an image of you will suddenly be in my head. Then, I say, ‘Oh, yeah—Colt!”

She must be thinking this was a bad day to come to the park without some mace or pepper gas! What the fuck is this weirdo talking about!

“Why Colt?” she asks.

“Because colts are beautiful! They’re all legs. And playful and spirited!” I say.

“Do you think I’m playful and spirited?” she asks. “And what’s your name?

“I want to think you are. And it’s Mack. Most people call me Mack.”

“I like your nickname for me. It is cute. Yes, Mack, call me Colt!” she says, starting to smile. “And I can be very playful and spirited—when I want!”

We turn to check our dogs. Jordan, my neutered male who doesn’t understand the concept or what the end result should be, is humping Colt’s bitch. My complexion goes from tanned to all-American red!

“Jordan!” I yell. “Get down! That’s no way to treat a lady!” “Sometimes it is, Mack!” Colt purrs. “Just not in public.” I take off my sunglasses and look at her. She says, “You think I haven’t given you the up-and-down treatment when I’ve seen you here? You got great legs, too, leading up to a cute tight ass! But you’ve never seemed much interested—until now.

“You know, Mack, a colt should never be ridden until she’s at least a year old!” she says, taking off her sunglasses. “I’m much older than that—in horse or dog or human years!” And she laughs.

All right, Mack, time to be quick on your usual plodding feet! I look past Colt at the townhouses being built near the field’s parking lot. Today’s Sunday.

“Colt, let’s walk the dogs,” I suggest, moving in the direction of our cars.

She is divorced, I learn, about 7 years ago. Her ex-husband, Michael, was murdered in his home by a saxophone player a couple years earlier. A jealous quarrel over a woman, she explains. She had continued to love him after the divorce, but never regretted her decision to leave him.

“A relationship is like a garden, Mack” Colt says. “Let part of it go untended and you get weeds.”

“Let’s get our dogs into the vans and walk. Okay, Colt?” I suggest.

I steer her toward the townhouses. The completed ones are locked tight, but the unfinished ones aren’t.

“Still feeling playful and spirited?” I ask.

Colt takes my hand and leads me into one of the buildings. When we get inside, she turns and kisses me, grabbing my head and thrusting her tongue into my mouth. I grab her tight buns and grind my hips against hers. I feel her pubic bone tight against my hardening cock.

She breaks our embrace and again takes my hand, explaining we should explore a little. The usual construction worker’s tools and stuff lie strewn around—caulk guns, scrapers, hammers, rope, insulated wire. She takes me to a corner where a canvas tarp lies in a heap, and turns to me.

“Time to be playful and spirited,” she says as she lies down on the tarp. First, my mind takes the picture that I’ll have all the rest of my life: This incredibly gorgeous filly laying before me, inviting me. I kneel next to her poised to kiss her.

“Playful and clothing are bad combinations, Mack,” she says. I reach for the knot of her blouse and, for once, am not the usual klutz—surprising, since I’m shaking with anticipation and arousal! Her front opens up. Oh, God, I think. These are perfect, with half-inch erect nipples. She unbuttons her cutoffs and raises her ass as I help her wiggle out of them and her panties. I stare at the sexiest pussy I’ve ever seen. Soft, wispy blonde curls she has shaved so that a one-inch line of hair leads like a runway to her slit. “Pilot to tower! Permission to make a steep descent!”

I kneel between her legs and kiss her at the top of her cunt. She groans. I lick her lips and between them, around them, I suck on them. She grinds her hips at me and moans. She moves her hands and pushes down on my head, pushing me deep into her pussy. There, her thighs grip me like a vise. “Eat me, Mack!” she quietly commands. She is so fresh and hot! I slurp her, lick her, suck her, inhale her. Her thighs relax and she reaches with her fingers to open her lips for me, revealing her bright red button, glistening as a shaft of afternoon sun touches it. I gently lick it, then blow on it, then suck on it a little, before backing off. “God, Mack, don’t stop!” she pants.

“Stop? Colt, Baby, I’m just starting!”

I roll us so she is atop me and squats above my face. Our only physical connection is my tongue and my lips and her cunt. In this position, it is so open to me. I explore every hill and valley within her. I play more with her clit, and she thrusts her hips across my tongue, over and over, each time moaning. A cool breeze sweeps through the glassless window and her skin becomes goose bumps and her nipples elongate. I reach up to caress them. They are hard like marbles. I caress her breasts; they are like firm pears.

I move her hips forward so her asshole is above me. I tongue her there, rimming her hole, and then french her deep. Colt is panting faster and harder.

“Jesus, Mack!” she gasps. “Tell me you ain’t holding back! That this is your best, right?! Jesus!”

I’m back on her cunt, licking her back to front and letting the tip of my tongue graze her bud. Back and forth. Colt’s pumping up and down on it as I lick her. We latch on to a great rhythm.

“You’re a cunt-tease, aren’t you, Mack?! Well, tease this!” And with that, she shoves her snatch so my head is completely engulfed. My tongue is up her vagina, swirling around its walls, lapping her juices and swallowing her into me. I want Colt’s taste to permeate me and settle like fine wine in me. I sense she is close to ready, so I suck on her clit a little harder. It’s taken on the size of one of her nipples. She grinds me hard and clasps my head with her thighs, then shudders and yells. “Omigod, omigod, omigod!” over and over, between her gasps for breath. My head and my cock are screaming for air too! Finally, her thighs relax and I reach through my shorts to release my cock from them. Colt rests on top of me.

“Like, Mack, do you teach a graduate course on how to eat a woman until her insides explode in an orgasm of fire?” she asks with a laugh. “That was something fucking else! Lord!” My cock twitches up against her hip.

“Oh, someone’s knocking on my back door!” she giggles as she lays on me. “Let me ask you something, Mack. I could go down on you now and give you the sweetest blow job of your life…or, if you can wait, I have pleasures awaiting you that you can’t begin to imagine! What’ll it be—blow job now, relentless ecstasy later?”

I think, always a dangerous activity for me, especially when it comes to sex, women, and booze.

“I’ll wait till whenever you’re ready, Colt!” I say. “That’s the playful part of you I like! But I’m not done with you today, now am I? Didn’t I tell you I was just starting?”

She grins a big grin. “Oh, Colt likes da man! Yes she does!”

2 Why Knot?

She reaches for some rope lying in the corner. She begins to wrap it around her wrist and her eyes widen and light up like a runway in fog.

“Oh, Baby!” Colt says excitedly. “Sometimes a colt needs to be tied in the corral. You know, for her own good!”

She gets up and leads me to the staircase that heads to the second floor. Colt ties one end of the rope to one wrist and loops it through a couple balusters in the railing. She pulls the rope taut and hands it to me.

“Tie my other wrist, Mack,” she says.

I’m thinking, I’m just a freelance writer! The kinkiest sex I ever had was when I cut a hole in a cantaloupe and fucked it! I should have let it come to room temperature first—nearly turned my cock blue!

“Tie it, Mack, so I’m hanging naked for you!”

Well, Mack, do what the lady says! Glory, is she fucking hot as I stand back and look at her, her long body and legs, her feet barely touching the floor. She’s got some cojones letting a guy she just met tie her up in an empty building in a field! This has Looking for Mr. Goodbar written all over it.

“Come, Mack. Eat my body!” Colt purrs again. I know this phrase—priests say it before communion. God—please don’t strike me dead!

I cup her ass cheeks and bring her to me. Her breasts are at mouth height. I lick each, sucking lightly on her nipples. I suck hard on her tits as she moans.

“Suck Colt’s tits, Mack. Suck them deep into your mouth, please!” she commands.

I inhale most of each of her breasts, licking her nipples while I bathe them with saliva. She continuously grinds her hips into my stomach, and then she wraps those long incredible legs around my waist, clasping me. I work her tits like a bitch works a cock, sucking them in and out. I make popping and slurping noises while sucking them. They are so taut!

I turn her around and glide my hands all over her ass. She lifts her legs so her feet are spread against the wall of the staircase. I kneel. Her cunt and ass are completely open for me. All I keep thinking is “Mack, just pull it out and ram this bitch!” But the way she said “relentless ecstasy” makes me too curious to give in. For now!

Instead, I eat her completely. I impale her ass on my tongue and fuck that hole with it, pushing my head up until I cannot go deeper. I swirl it in her and her muscles tighten around my tongue, squeezing it, releasing it, squeezing and releasing. Her cunt juices begin to drip to the floor, forming a dark pool on the wood. I never thought a woman could become so wet! I extend my tongue below her, to catch a few drops of her wine. Shit, wine’s bitter compared to Colt’s nectar!

“Oh, Mack, you got the hottest fucking tongue!”

I reach an arm around each of her thighs and pull her down onto my face. I am smothered in her cunt! She thrusts her pelvis against my head and grinds on me, rubbing her clit against my tongue, my nose, my forehead. She wants my head to fuck her!

Her clit protrudes from her labia and by now, purple and engorged and twitching. I lightly lick it and Colt jerks in her ropes.

“Mack, oh, Mack, suck on my clit, Baby! Don’t stop till I drench you with my cum! Fuck!”

It is like I am giving her a blow job! I suck her bud into me and move back, suck in and out, slurping and making suck noises. She fucks my mouth with it, thrusting it in and out of my face. My arms shove her ass forward, helping her. She continues dripping, soaking my shirt with her juice!

“Now, Mack!” she pants. “Fuckin’ now!” With one final thrust, Colt squeezes her thighs and buries my head in her. She ejaculates, splashing her cum everywhere in my mouth. Jesus, this is so fucking hot! When her final gush flows on my tongue and her legs relax, I shoot my own load without ever touching myself. It mixes with her cum on the floor.

Colt starts to laugh or cry. I can’t tell which, maybe both.

“Untie me, Baby!” she asks. She falls into my arms, limp. I hold her to me and she embraces me.

“That was beyond sex!” she manages to say, gasping for air. “I don’t know what you call the place you just took me, but it was the twilight zone of my senses! Jesus, Mack, no one’s come within a mile of how you just made me feel.”

“Colt, you bring out the best in me!” I chuckle. “No one’s been within a mile of how hot and beautiful you are! You made me cum and I never even touched myself!”

She looks down and sees our combined fluids, seeping into the wood. She squats and wipes some up on her finger. She rises and makes sure I see her suck it clean.

“Mmmm! Nice cocktail!” she grins. “Now I got a nickname for you, Mack! I’m gonna call you ‘Jockey’ from now on!”

I watch her dress, her lithe body bathed in the late afternoon’s golden glow. Her skin glistens and radiates. She might be a bitch in 101 other ways, I don’t know, but she is physical perfection. She stands in front of me, reaches into my shorts, and cups by cock and balls, squeezing them slightly.

“I’ll make my offer one more time, Jockey,” she says. “I’d be happy dropping to my knees and blowing you here and now. Or, the program is this: you don’t cum for a week—no pussy, no jackin’ off! You show up at my crib next Saturday at 6 sharp with these cum-filled balls and, by the time you leave, they’ll be the size of BBs!”

“I need your address, Colt!” I say. “And what the fuck is your name anyway!”

“Jessica. The countdown starts now, Jockey!”

3 The Room

My week is fucking shot! I can’t work, I can’t garden, I can’t watch TV or read. I am consumed by thinking of Colt. I rewind and play the tape of us Sunday afternoon over and over, and all I do is get so horny that neither the crack of dawn or the cock crowing is safe! Getting laid once in a while or jacking off every day has become so common in my life that I cannot remember going more than 2 days without one or the other. When I awaken on Saturday, I’m glad it’s finally here, but the minutes go by like a baseball game.

Colt lives only a few miles from me, in a fashionable Chicago suburb, the only town I’ve ever known to have a polo club. Many of the residential streets have “Local Traffic Only” signs, which is snob-speak for “Keep Your Chevies the Fuck Out!” As I curve around Paddock Lane in my Cavalier, I find her house—well, house is what I live in; this is a fucking estate! Rich bitch, ol’ Colt is, I think. Trophy wife? Or maybe she married some rich bastard and fucked him to death!

The front door opens as soon as I knock and a maid lets me in. “I’m here for Jessica,” I say, trying not to act like I’m 16 years old.

“And who may I say is calling?” the maid asks.

“Jock…Mack. Tell her it’s Mack.” I stare around me. I am clearly out of this financial league. “Just pop a nut, Mack, and get the fuck out” is all I can think.

The maid returns. “Ms. Jessica will meet you in the wine cellar, Sir. Walk this way, please.”

I follow her, thinking about the hunchback’s line in ‘Young Frankenstein’—should I walk like her? I need a little comic relief!

When we reach the bottom of the stairs the maid points to a door. “Ms. Jessica will attend to you in there. You may go right in.”

“Th-th-thanks,” I stutter and reach for the handle. I open it and walk into an almost pitch-black room. One recessed light in the ceiling in the corner is lit. Like a fucking spotlight!

“Hello, Jockey!” purrs a voice from the dark. “Did you come to mount your Colt and take her for a ride?”

Colt suddenly appears below the light. Oh, Jesus, I think, don’t cum, Mack, do not cum in your pants! Colt is wearing, shall I say, an assortment of…things. Since her legs always draw my eyes first, I notice her white, up-to-the-crotch latex boots with spike heels. Nice start! She also wears a white latex bra that lifts her breasts but does not cover them. She wears white leather gloves that just reach her elbow and a white leather choke collar, studded with silver. Colt also sports a white leather headband around her forehead, decorated with stars and a bolt of lightning. Sequins and rhinestones randomly adorn her body. Colt literally glitters! I have meanwhile turned to stone. Colt should just call the maid to come get me, place me in front of the house, and put a fucking lantern in my hand. Decorative statuary! I reach my hand to my mouth to see if the drool factor has kicked in. No. Good! Colt struts up to me and grabs my crotch.

“You been a good boy for me, Jockey? Let’s see,” she snarls as she reaches into my pants and cups my balls. “They sure do feel filled. Did you save a week’s seed for your Colt, Jockey?”

I shake my head yes, afraid it may break off.

“Let me pour you a drink. You look like a bourbon man, through and through!”

Thank God! I cannot think of what I want or need more.

She pours me a pretty stiff drink, and I chug it. That’s it! I feel like I had been holding my breath for about an hour!

“Colt, I’ve never seen or even imagined anyone as sexy and hot as you do tonight!” He speaks! He ali-i-i-i-ve!

“Thank you, Baby! I like dressing up at Derby time!” She reaches toward the wall and turns the dimmer so more light shines in the room. That’s when I notice the table with harnesses, cuffs, feathers, small whips, lots of chains, and many items I can’t imagine a use for!

“Mack,” Colt whispers in my ear, caressing my ass. “I’ve been thinking all week about last Sunday. How exquisite you made me feel—to my core. I’m here to try to make you feel as good! Kiss me, Jockey!” I cup my hands to her ass—oh, so tight and smooth! I pull her to me and we kiss, she extending her tongue deep into me, our hips grinding into each other. She breaks our embrace. “Do you want relentless ecstasy, Mack? Do you trust me? Do you trust that I won’t hurt you—too much?” Colt growls and unbuttons my shirt. She rubs my chest and nipples and then sucks on them, moving her hands to my crotch, rubbing my hardness. She kneels and removes pants, socks, shoes. My shirt joins the pile. She kneels in front of my cock and holds it at the base. With her eyes open, she blows on it from different angles. It twitches several times in her light touch. I think it’s just going to explode and splatter blood all over the room! Headline in tomorrow’s Sun-Times: “Man’s Pecker Explodes in Oakbrook; Several Homes Razed! Dental Records Reveal Nothing!”

She walks to the center of the room and pulls down some cuffs attached to a chain. She motions me to join her and to extend each wrist. I comply. She turns a handle on the wall and I am gently lifted up, my arms extended wider than my shoulders. My feet still rest on the floor. She cuffs one ankle with a chain and then the other. She turns another handle and my legs are spread the same as my arms. I am, perhaps, 3 inches off the floor. Colt stands in front of me and smiles.

“Good! Let me begin then,” she whispers into my ear.

She walks to the table and picks up two feathers. She caresses my neck and face with one and brings the other through my crotch, stimulating my balls. This is the beginning of Colt’s dance.

All parts of my body are touched, repeatedly yet differently.

Colt, oh, my God, Colt, oh, Jesus, Colt, oh, God, Colt!” I repeat over and over, my cock twitching every few seconds. She occasionally blows on me, her warm breath puckering my skin. She puts one of the feathers back and kneels in front of my cock. She blows on my inner thighs, and it twitches. She blows on my scrotum, and it twitches. She blows on it, and it twitches. I look down and wonder whose cock that is—it must be at least an inch longer and thicker than I’ve ever seen! Shit, it is going to explode! “Penile tissue was found in a 3 block radius of an Oakbrook estate…!”