Horse Play

"Surely you don't intend to CARRY me the whole way back to the barn! That's more than a mile from here!" she exclaimed.

"We really haven't much choice, Vanessa." (She noted there was no "Miss" preceding her name. Was that good or bad?). "You can't walk and it would take twice as long for me to get back to the barn and hitch up the wagon for you. There is a huge den of rattlers in this area, somewhere. I haven't found it, yet. I can't leave you here," he concluded.

She took the opportunity to fish for a compliment. "But, surely, I must be very heavy for you."

His response deflated her instantly: "You are! But, what am I to do, leave you for the serpents?"

She pouted a bit, but then decided to just relax and enjoy the ride. Unfortunately, he would have none of that.

He never bothered to look at her while he spoke. "You know, I DID save your life," he said bitterly. "The very least thing you could do is attempt to learn my name. Or, is that like everything else-beneath you?" He just kept his head up, alert, walking briskly up the trail as if he were carrying a sack lunch rather than a grown woman.

She fumed in his arms and he hoisted her to get a better grip. This motion sent her eyes wide open and her heart into a fury, as he virtually 'tossed' her into the air and re-caught her to adjust his grip.

"Fine," she said. She was still trying subdue him, but he had matched her parry for thrust till now. "What is your name?"

"I'm not going to tell you," he said. "You're only asking now because I suggested it. When you really want to know, I'll tell you."

The barn was in sight now. It drew closer with every stride of his long, powerful legs. She couldn't help but notice that his scent was strong, manly and not offensive, at all. In fact, he was the first man she'd been this close to. She tried her best to not be noticed, as she took a lock of his hair between her fingers. It was soft and at least as smooth as hers! Even in the heat of the late morning sun, it had a 'coolness' to it that excited her. She carefully moved her head in such a way to allow her to smell it. It smelled fresh and clean and she'd been caught again.

"Am I a beast now that must be sniffed for recognition?" he asked.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I had a sniffle."

"Of Course you did," he said as he kicked open the barn door. "And I suppose your ring was caught in my hair?

She had indeed been caught! She had no idea how to respond. And so, she didn't. Her silence was rewarded by being unceremoniously dropped onto a large pile of hay. She almost protested, but thought better of it as he turned his back to her. She couldn't see the sardonic grin spread on his handsome face, as he went to find something to use as a bandage.

"Take that boot off," he called over his shoulder. "And be quick about it."

She ruffled at his order, but attempted to do as he'd said. The boot wouldn't budge! Her ankle had swollen within the confines of the stiff leather and every attempt brought searing pain the whole way up her leg. When he got back, she had given up on the boot. She couldn't get it off.

"I told you to hurry with that! I don't have all day!" he nearly shouted at her.

Her eyes were already welled with tears of pain and frustration and she forced herself to choke back a sob as she explained the problem. His softened just a bit around the eyes and he mumbled an apology as he dragged a milk bucket near her feet, flipped it upside down and sat down on it. She braced herself for another lightning bolt of pain, but was pleasantly surprised at his gentleness as he grasped the back of her calf and slowly raised her foot to rest on his knee. He rummaged through the box that he'd carried over and her eyes grew wide as he fished out a huge pair of shears.

"What do you THINK you're going to do with those?" she asked

"I'm going to cut off your boot." He said it as if it were something he did every day of his life. "…I'm going to brush my teeth; I'm going to comb my hair; I'm going to destroy an expensive, hand crafted pair of custom-fitted riding boots!"…)

He had already started cutting before she could voice a protest. She watched in horror as the shears glided easily through the fine leather. He went slowly and never so much as grazed her skin with the shears. When he got to her ankle, his concentration was intense. He angled the scissors and cut several small slits to relieve the vise-like pressure. She likened the sensation to blowing air out of your lungs. As the remains of the boot dropped to the floor, she bundled her courage and looked down at her foot. It was purple and swollen to nearly twice its usual size. The sight made her stomach turn and she almost went into shock.

"How's the knee?" he asked.

When she didn't answer, he bent low to intercept her stare. She blinked hard and diverted her attention back to him.

"W-What did you say?" she asked like a backward child.

"I asked if your knee hurt."

He helped support the lower leg with his hand on her calf as she attempted to flex her knee. The pain on her face was answer enough.

"Hold still," he ordered.

The shears reappeared and in one quick stroke, her favorite riding pants were shredded from the hand-sew cuff to past her knee. Her knee appeared slightly swollen, but not nearly the sight her ankle was.

"It's Jeremy," he said in a low voice, as he inspected the knee.

"What?" Vanessa could hardly hear him. The new-found pain of the balloon-where her ankle should be-had actually caused a throbbing sensation throughout her whole body, including her ears.

"My name. It's Jeremy." He repeated it as if he were addressing a slow child. "I've been here since May, caring for the horses and doing odd jobs around the property. What's that over there?"

When Vanessa turned to see what he was referring to, he grasped the back of her calf and yanked quick and hard. The sound was like a limb snapping. Vanessa's eyes went wide and she let out a spontaneous scream of horror as she waited for the wave of pain that she KNEW was on its way. But it never came. In fact, her knee actually felt better!

"What did you do?" she asked, not even trying to mask her disbelief at the sudden relief.

"Your knee was dislocated. Nothing permanently damaged. I just put it back into place for you."

"But, you…How?…"

"Does it feel better?" he interrupted.

"Well, yes. Yes it does, Jeremy," his name rolled off her tongue and she loved the way it sounded. The way it felt. 'Jeremy'. She envisioned saying it in the throes of passion.

"There's not much I can do for the ankle. It's severely sprained, but I believe you'll live," he said jokingly.

He gathered up a bundle of rags and placed them between his legs on the bucket. He then gently eased he foot onto the makeshift cushion and began gently massaging her foot, ankle and calf. She began to protest, but it was a half-hearted effort at best and he continued rubbing her.

As his ministrations continued, the foot began to feel better. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to relax, as she slowly collapsed into the pile of hay. The relaxation ceased when she felt her foot brush against something strange. It happened so quickly that she hardly noticed it. There it was again! What in the world…? She cracked one eyelid barely open and looked down past Jeremy and his gentle work to where her foot was. Each time he reached further up her calf, her foot actually came into contact with his-his 'manhood.' And, from where she was, he was INDEED quite a man. She was afraid to get caught by him again, but she wanted to feel more. She turned her foot slowly inward; ignoring the pain it caused, and was rewarded with a foot-full of this beautiful man.

My God! He was huge! He continued rubbing as he abruptly scooted forward on the bucket, placing himself in firm, solid contact with her injured foot. He leaned over and gathered some bandages he'd cut and began wrapping her foot and ankle. She was already missing the sensation of touching him.

"There. That takes care of that one," he said.

She looked down to see her foot had been neatly bandaged. His massaging had somehow relieved some of the pressure. She was about to start to stand up when he stopped her by reaching for her other foot. She was perplexed and almost objected. But if he could make her mangled leg feel better, imagine what he might be able to do with a good leg! And, after all, the attention was making her feel great. He used the shears to again slice through her riding pants. He was much more liberal with the shears this time, cutting well past the knee and halfway up her thigh. Again, he didn't so much as graze her skin with the cold metal blades. Suddenly, her eyes went wide as he placed her foot directly onto his now-erect crotch. The hardness and shear size of him frightened her-and excited her. Excitement won out as he began his skillful ministrations.

His hands moved…differently somehow over her uninjured leg. Long, firm strokes up and down the length of her calf nearly caused her to purr. He wasn't as gentle now, but it still felt wonderful. The pressure she was feeling against her foot was only adding to the pleasure. He boldly began massaging higher, frequently going above her knee to the mid- and then even the upper thigh. She could feel herself growing hot and moist in that most sensitive area.

A small, barely audible sigh escaped her lips as he caressed her with light, tickling strokes. When he worked his way back down to her foot, he cradled it in his hands and raised it up very slowly. Her eyes cracked open just in time to see him take her big toe into his mouth and suck on it-hard. Vanessa had never heard of such a thing. But as startled as she was, the feeling was indescribable. He began his massaging anew, back up her leg, leaving it to her to use her own strength to keep her foot elevated-which she gladly did. Now he was using his tongue to further stimulate her. She'd never imagined ANYTHING happening to her foot that could feel so-so delicious! She struggled to keep it within reach for him. When he released her foot from his mouth, he grabbed it firmly and tugged at her ankle, while simultaneously scooting the bucket forward, moving the two of them closer together. When she was as close as he could get her, he bent down, supposedly to kiss her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and when she did, he reached beneath her other thigh and easily picked her up to his lap. He sat her down so that she was straddling him atop the bucket. Their faces were only inches apart. At some point, which she could not identify, he had unbuttoned his shirt. His bare chest rubbed against her as he pulled the bottom of her blouse out of her pants. His warm hands snaked up her bare back and continued the rubbing, massaging and tickling. She could feel his hot breath on her neck and bosom. She angled her pelvis just a fraction and her reward was to feel his throbbing manhood perched directly against her-like the saddle horn, but much, much better!

He slowly worked his hands around to her sides. "How can he work in a stable and have such soft hands," she thought. Now he was caressing the outer globes of her breasts and she could feel her nipples growing taught against her sweat-soaked blouse. As quickly as he'd rendered the snake harmless, he threw open the front of her blouse, exposing her bare breasts to the cool, shaded air of the horse stable.

Her senses were alive with the moment. The sweet smell of the hay; the cool air on her flesh; the rigid, throbbing hardness of this, this-Adonis throbbing between her legs. It culminated with him burying his face in her full breasts. Licking and sucking them with a fever pace. When his tongue touched her nipple, she rocked her hips to his rhythm. He reached around her, circling her with one arm and pulling her even tighter to him. The feeling was excruciating pleasure.

Suddenly, he stopped and looked directly into her eyes. They were welled with excited tears. He cradled her with both hands on her buttocks and stood up, as she tightened her grip around his neck. He moved a few feet to the nearest stall and sat her on top of the gate. He buried his face in her neck. His mouth began the exciting dance anew and she struggled mildly to keep her balance atop the narrow perch. He worked his mouth off her neck to her breasts and over her stomach, as his hands struggled with her wide belt and the top of her pants.

She realized that there really was no escape or turning back. Not only was her excitement at a fever pitch, but to get off the gate, the only way she could do it was to drop the two- to three feet to the stable floor and risk further injury to her ankle and foot. She took over the work with her own pants as he dropped his to the dirty floor. Once she had hers unbuttoned, she lifted herself slightly off the gate to allow him to peel the tight pants from her. With the legs being shredded, they dropped easily to the floor. He stepped back from her in short, careful steps as he removed his shirt. He stepped out of his dungarees and she ogled his naked flesh. She looked down to see a penis that actually frightened her. It was long and as thick as her forearm. She had never made love to a man, but knew all the mechanics. (She was an educated woman, after all!) But she couldn't imagine a way that he could put that thing inside her.

He stepped back toward her and wrapped her up again in his strong arms. She wrapped her legs around him, as best she could and he lifted her gently off the gate and supported all of her weight by cradling her ass in his hands. He lifted her high and began lowering her. He had somehow moved himself into the perfect position to enter her as she dropped. She was in helpless ecstasy as the combination of pleasure and pain swept over her. Inch by torturous inch he let gravity drop her lower onto him, impaling her. She felt her guardian hymen give way and glanced down. He wasn't even halfway inside her, yet! "Oh God! He'll never get that in me," she thought.

She was wrong. He suddenly shot his pelvis forward and buried himself to the hilt inside of her. Her scream seemed to shake the walls of the stable. He stood motionless as the pain gave way to another sensation for Vanessa. He held her tight and close as she shook through her tears, first of pain and then to the indescribable feeling of fullness and, oddly, accomplishment. She had done something that she didn't think possible only seconds before-with his help of course.

He waited until her animal instinct took over. When he felt her begin to move her hips, he matched her. They went slowly at first, but built speed and force quickly. He would raise her until he was almost out of her and then slam back into her. Each time she would drop, she would scream like a wounded animal. But he wouldn't stop and he refused to slow down. He pounded into her until they were both covered in a layer of sticky sweat. He placed her back against the stall door and gripped the top of it with his hands as he supported her weight with his heavily muscled arms. She was nearly bent in half in this position, but it offered a perfect target for his onslaught. Again and again he pierced her with incredible speed. Later, she would learn that the sensations she was feeling were her first-and repeated orgasms. As they rolled through her and rocked her mind and body, she lost the strength and then the will to scream. She became nothing more than a limp target. Then it was his turn to scream. It was actually more of an animalistic growl and she felt her insides grow warm with his fluid. He didn't stop right away. Instead, he wound down like a huge clock. Slower and slower he moved until his spent cock just dropped out of her.

The cool air hit her where he had just been. She was already missing the sensation of being "filled."

He lifted her away from the gate and quickly considered setting her down in the pile of horse dung that steamed fresh, just a few steps away. But he dismissed the idea. He let her slide gently to the floor and told her simply to get dressed. Then he gathered up his pants, shirt and boots and walked toward the back of the barn.

"Is that it? Get dressed? Is that all you intend to say to me after what we've done?" She was beside herself and exhausted.

He stopped and turned. His naked body shining in the half-light of the barn. "As a matter of fact, I do have something else to say. Get out of my barn." He turned away and rocked his head back in a mighty laugh.

Vanessa was crushed. She gathered up her clothes and limped into the stall to pull on her ruined clothes. Between putting them on, she huddled in the corner and sobbed.

Jeremy watched her struggle to leave the barn in her tattered clothes as he reflected on what he'd done. She was thoroughly ruined. He had destroyed her clothes and her boots. He had taken her virginity and her dignity. And he had ruined her in the most intimate way possible for every other man—or at least most of them.

"Is that pretty much what you had in mind?" he asked.

"That was perfect, darling," Janine replied as she came out of her dark perch. "YOU were perfect," she said as she wrapped her arms around him and gave him a deep, soulful kiss.

"I still don't understand…" she silenced him with a finger to his lips.

"If you must know, Vanessa's father stole half my family's land. He misused my father's trust and abused his friendship. He died a broken man. Vanessa can have the land, now. But that's all she'll ever have. And I have something that she will never have. Don't I, lover?" she smiled at her obvious conclusion as she dropped to her knees in front of him, as she undid his pants.

"Yes, you do." He replied as he gripped a handful of Janine's hair. "You certainly do!"