Training Session

Her name was Trish and she loved horses.

She liked boys and she liked girls too. But she loved horses. So it was no surprise when she got a job training horses for a well-to-do woman in northern Georgia. Trish worked twelve hour days, wrestling 500 pound animals, making them bend to her will, so that they could become disciplined, prancing, tassel--laden show ponies who made big, big money for their owners at fancy contests.

It was hard work. Most days Trish's hands were a rough tapestry of calluses, her back was a maze of knotty lumps, and her wrists barely usable as both had become inflamed with tendonitis.

Despite all that, or maybe because of all that, Trish had this unquestioned sex appeal. She was 5 foot 2, and weighed about 135 pounds. She was twenty-seven, but had the youthful exuberance of a teenager. She never wore makeup and her lower body, almost always encased in a pair of dusty Wranglers, featured muscular thighs and a taut, round ass that danced when she walked. Her small breasts, always covered by a loose fitting white tee shirt, were subtle and proud. Her naturally dishwater blonde hair was bleached white and cut into a cropped, sassy, spiky sort of thing. Whenever she batted her lashes, as she did to both men and women, the recipient of her affections would notice her eyes, which were a soft, powder blue.

One day, Trish had a rare afternoon free. Always looking for ways to improve herself as a trainer, she went to the gym near her home in Marietta. The suburbs of Georgia were hardly a reflection of Atlanta, the state capital. Marietta was a mass of mostly white transplants looking for a great deal on a big house, and black folks who wanted to be near the city called the black Mecca, but not necessarily in it. The small, but colorful population of Jewish folks gave the town its edgy flair. Of course when Trish walked in, all eyes were on her. She stood out, and to at least one man, she stood out in a way that was both enticing and unsettling.

Drew was the most popular personal trainer at the gym. He was hoping to start his own business, but for the meantime he was paying the local gym rent and establishing a clientele.

In his early thirties, Drew was muscular, with thighs so large they rubbed together when he walked. He had large, veiny arms, one of which bore a long ugly scar from a cut incurred during his days as a college football player. He was five foot-ten, with a milk chocolate complexion, a smooth, shaved head, and a disarming smile. All of this made him a hit with the lonely bored, middle-aged housewives, who comprised the bulk of his clientele.

Sure the old housewives flirted with him all the time. But none of them had any intention of following through. There was that one woman, though. Sharon. She was heavy set red head with big, full tits. There was that one day when she was doing sit ups on the resist-a-ball. As she leaned back on the big blue ball, Drew noticed her legs were spread wide enough to expose a hole in her leotard. A tuft of bright red hair poked through the opening.

Was it intentional? Drew wondered. He would make a note to follow up on that one...

When Trish walked in, Drew was cleaning some equipment. He caught himself in a double take. Normally reserved, Drew was moved by the need to speak to this woman. He walked over to Trish and introduced himself.

Hi, my name is "Drew," he said. "I'm one of the trainers here." As she took his hand, he noticed her staring at the scar on his arm.

"You know, because of my work I could use a trainer," said Trish.

"What do you do?" he asked.

"I train horses," said Trish. She looked and sounded like a little girl when she said it. In fact, whenever she spoke about horses, Trish was ten years old again. That's when her father taught her to ride.

***

She had been terrified at first. The animal was big and black, and smelled just awful. Besides that there were flies and shit everywhere. She wanted to cry. But she knew if she cried, her father would get mad, so she stifled her tears and sat there on this big, smelly beast.

"Take the reins," her father told her.

Trish held the long, leather straps.

"Now dig your heels into him' said her father. "That'll make him move."

Trish was terrified, and she felt the tears welling in her eyes. But she did what she was told.

With the rubber heels of her white converse all-stars, she lightly tapped the horse in its ribs.

"If you want him to move, you'll have to do it harder than that," said her father.

Trish did it again, this time kicking the horse as hard as she could, in the process lifting herself up in the saddle.

The horse began to trot and Trish felt herself smile.

"Make him go faster!" her father yelled.

Trish kicked again, several times. The horse began to gallop around the pen. Trish bounced into the air and back down onto the saddle. She kicked harder and the horse went faster. Round and round the stable she went, bouncing and kicking the beast. She kicked harder. As she rode, she felt so powerful. Here she was, sitting atop this animal that, if it wanted to, could crush her in an instant. But she was controlling it, making it do whatever she wanted. It was amazing and Trish felt herself get really warm and her face went flush. It was the best feeling she ever had.

After that she begged her father to take her riding every day. And he did just that. They went riding every afternoon until the day her father died. That was the day after her 19th birthday. Since then, every time she climbed onto a saddle, she had thought of him.

***

Trish yanked herself back to the present. "These horses have been beating me up lately," she said. "I really need to get stronger."

"Well, I can help you with that," said Drew.

They had been training for two weeks when they became comfortable with one another. Trish talked about how much she missed her father.

"I was adopted by my stepfather," said Drew. "My real father was never a part of my life."

He couldn't believe he was telling her all of this. He never spoke about this stuff.

Trish listened silently. Drew noticed her eyes had softened.

"Fathers are a sacred thing, huh?" said Drew.

Trish nodded.

The professional barrier between them was beginning to crumble and neither of them was doing anything to stop it. She knew that he liked her. But Drew was sure she was gay. In fact he was pretty sure most people thought Trish was gay.

Truth was she liked it that way. While Trish's semi-androgynous style was just a personal choice that fit her sensibility, part of her did like to keep people guessing.

Trish had been in a six-month relationship with a woman for whom she cared a great deal. In fact, Trish and Beth had talked about living together. But Trish liked her freedom. She wasn't promiscuous, but she liked her space. She liked being open to the possibility of just about anything.

It was during one of her training sessions that one of those possibilities began to present itself.

She was seated on a bench doing a pull down exercise while Drew stood behind her. Trish pulled the long, silver, skinny bar behind her neck, almost down to her shoulders.

Now don't let it shoot right back up the cable," he told her. "Take it nice and slow. Control the weight."

Drew leaned in closer, squatted down, and grabbed the bar so that she would know how much resistance to use. As he did, his crotch lightly pressed against her upper back, and the inside of his leg brushed against her outer thigh. His black running tights left little to the imagination. Trish looked down and took in a purposely long and not so subtle gaze at Drew's thigh. But Drew didn't notice.

His dick was inexplicably hard and there was no hiding it. "Shit, why did I wear running tights?" thought Drew to himself. "Why didn't I just wear baggy sweats like all the other trainers...?"

She looked up at him and smiled.

He smiled back, and laughed nervously.

A few minutes later, when the workout had ended, Trish took a bold step forward.

"Hey, you want to come up to the stables sometime and watch me work?" she asked.

Drew felt himself blush. He was still feeling a charge from that wicked smile. He was certain she was a lesbian, and leading men on was probably her way of getting her kicks. But Drew didn't care. He just enjoyed her presence.

"Of course," he said. "I'd love to."

In the second week of April, Georgia was already hot. As he drove his black SUV through the wooded area, Drew thought about turning on the air. Just then he saw a large, burnt orange barn in the distance. Just beyond the barn was a large open circle, where small clouds of dust mingled with the smell of budding magnolia trees.

When he saw Trish she was sitting atop a caramel colored horse whose head was jerking back and forth. She was leaned forward in the saddle, stroking the horse with an open palm, getting it to calm down.

As he watched her, his dick got hard.

Just then Trish looked up and yelled. "Hey you!"

Drew got out of the car and walked towards her. Trish dismounted and walked hurriedly towards him. As she approached she studied Drew's lower body. He wore white shorts, which looked fluorescent against his big, dark muscular thighs. She traced a trail down to his calves, which were bulbous and brown, like two big, smooth milk duds. In a second, her jeans were soaked with more than just her sweat.

"I'm ready to take a break and I was wondering if you wanted to go for a drive."

"Sure," said Drew.

Without hesitation, Trish hopped into the passenger's seat.

They drove into a secluded, wooded area full of massive green pine trees and dirt the color of dark red adobe.

"I love it here," whispered Trish. "Pull up there and we'll get out, okay?"

Drew pulled off the road and parked.

They walked about a half-mile, into the woods, until they reached a small grassy knoll. It was in between two trees so it was partially shaded and hidden from the main path. On top of the hill, a small patch of sunlight pierced the trees and bathed one small, green patch of grass.

They walked up the hill and stood to face one another.

"How long have you wanted to fuck me?" asked Trish.

"I uhhh..."

As Drew stammered, Trish leaned over and kissed him. Drew felt a jolt of electricity surge through his body. "She's a lesbian," he thought. "And she just wants to tease me."

But as he pressed his mouth over hers, the belief that Trish was playing some juvenile game was obliterated by an abandon he had never before experienced. He had always been gentle. Women had always told him how "sweet" he was, how sensitive and thoughtful. That was okay. But now, as he kissed this sexy, playful, tomboyish imp, he wanted to devour both her and every aggressive sexual urge he'd ever entertained.

As he kissed her Drew let his hands explore her body. With one hand he grabbed the back of her head and with the other he grabbed her waist and pulled her close. Trish moved with him. As she slipped her tongue into his mouth she pressed herself hard against him. Her breasts were against his chest and she began grinding her pelvis against his. It was as if she didn't want any space between her body and his. Drew let his hand fall down to her waist and then to the top button of her jeans. Trish quickly and roughly guided his hand to her zipper. She wanted him to feel how wet she was.

Drew unzipped her pants, and pulled them down to her knees. Then he yanked down her yellow cotton panties and slid his finger inside her. She gasped and kissed him even harder.

Trish pulled away and took off her t-shirt, exposing two pink, rock-hard, pea-sized nipples. Then she laughed in a way that was both sweet and lecherous.

"What do you want?" she asked.

Without breaking their gaze, Drew pulled his shirt over his head. Then he firmly grabbed Trish by the shoulder and spun her around. He pulled her jeans down to her ankles, and ripped down his shorts. His cock was standing up, grazing his belly button. Drew took a step forward and slammed his cock inside her. Looking back over her shoulder Trish reached back and grabbed Drew's thigh as if to pull him closer. She wanted all of him inside her.

Drew put one hand on her hip and the other on her shoulder and pumped into her pale and muscular ass. The hard, fast pumps of Drew's upper thighs against Trish's ass made a clapping sound.

Trish put her head down and growled through clenched teeth, "oh, fuck yeah."

After a minute Trish, abruptly stood up and turned around to face Drew. Without a word, and in one movement, she lay down on the grass and spread her legs, pulling Drew with her.

Before he entered her again, Drew stared at Trish. She stared back, unblinking. Her expression could only be described as defiant. Her pale blue eyes were mesmerizing. Drew slowly came forward, studying Trish's body. Her pubic hair was a matted blonde mess and the skin around her pussy was pale—the color of ice milk.

Trish's mouth eased into a wicked little smile. "Come on you, fucker," she whispered.

After he watched his chocolate colored dick slide into her mound Drew pinned her hands down, flattening the backs of her hands into the soft emerald grass. Drew arched his back and went as deep as he could go. The he held it there, silently allowing his cock to throb inside her. Trish moaned and he bent down and kissed her open mouth.

Trish broke the kiss and once again met Drew with a steady gaze. Then with both hands on his chest, she rudely pushed him off of her and onto his back.

Trish climbed on top of drew and quickly lowered herself onto his cock. She began to ride him with a quick and deliberate rhythm. Her ass moved back and forth in a piston-like fashion. The place where they joined was marked by an intermingled thicket of pubic hair. Just the sight of her fine blonde pubic hair against his thick, jet black kinky curls was enough to make Drew cum.

Just then Trish leaned forward and placed her hands on Drew's chest, which was now slick with sweat. Just as Drew was about to explode into Trish, she threw her head back and growled, "Oooohh fuuuck.."

That was his cue. Drew grabbed Trish's waist and lifted his hips, shooting what felt like every ounce of bodily fluid into Trish's hot, contracting pussy.

They lay there in silence. A single ray of light bathed them. It was as if that ray of light had found its way through the trees for the sole purpose of shining on their naked bodies.

Drew turned to Trish. "I really like watching you work."

She smiled and looked at her watch.

"We should probably go back" said Trish.

Drew sighed.

"Yeah. But back where?"