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Subject: {ASSM} The Riding Instructor and The Stable Hand {Helen Back} (M-solo MF job)
Date: Thu,  6 Dec 2001 07:10:02 -0500
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"The Riding Instructor and The Stable Hand"
   by Helen Back


  His sack would tingle as he watched her demonstrate
on horseback for her students.  He would save cleaning
the stalls near the arena for when her class was in
session.  Now and then she would mount a students
horse and show everyone what she was trying to tell
them.  He would drop everything whenever she did this
and find a discrete place to watch.  One time, he
actually took matters in hand.  

  It was during a demonstration of something she
called the rising trot.  As she slipped her toe into
the stirrup leaving one foot on the ground, her legs
stretched apart.  Each round cheek of her ass was
separate and distinct and his mind reeled when he
thought of the space between.  She hopped onto the
stirruped foot, and from his angle he could see her
chest jiggle with each hop, 1,2,3 and her lower leg
swung up and over the saddle.  He got a brief glimpse
of her crotch region and squeezed his balls with his
hand in the pocket of his overalls:  he longed to be
that saddle as he watched her split legs nestle into
the leather seat.

  He ducked into an empty stall where he could lean
against a post and watch her through a knot hole in a
board.  He unzipped and slowly stroked himself through
his longjohns wondering how the hard leather saddle
felt to her.  Did she receive any stimulation while
straddling it?  Did it rub her clit or squish her
labia?  Thinking that it did made him a little harder.

  She rocked back a bit as she squeezed her horse's
sides with her calves.  While riding off, she squeezed
left then right then left in rhythm with the horse's
walking gait.  She explained to the students that the
horse relys on her to set the pace.  She demonstrated
quicker leg squeezes, left, then right, than left. 
This made her hips rock ever so slightly and he could
only think of her resting atop his lap doing his;
riding him and squeezing left, then right, then left
as his cock grew inside of her.

  He pulled himself free of his work clothes and noted
he was harder than he'd been in a long time.  His
large, pink, bell-shaped cock head was tight and
shiny.  He began to slowly stroke down, then up
stopping just below the head.  She continued riding
around the arena, lecturing to her students who waited
in the center of the arean.  She discussed the premise
of the rising or posting trot.  That it was invented
for riding long distances without getting a sore back
side.  The modesty with which she phrased the term
"back-side" made him want her all the more:  the
girl-next-door, the virgin, the innocent and pure. 
This image turned him on like the pictures in his
dirty magazines of young women dressed in catholic
school girl uniforms:  nice, but naughty.

  "The rising trot is a gait  with a 1,2 rhythm ridden
while the horse trots fast.  You must rise on the
proper diagonal to your horse's front hoof placement
or you risk a bumpy ride, or worse, your horse losing
footing and taking a tumble with you."  With this she
clucked her tongue to the roof of her mouth, squeezed
both legs into her mount's sides, sat with a single,
deeper sort of scoop movement which pulsed his groin
to see and said "trot on."  The horse picked up a trot
and she began to rise up then down, up down, up down,
up down, up down as his hand began to rub up then
down, up down, up down in rhythm with her rising and
sitting:  ah to be that saddle.

  "You must rise as the inside shoulder is back.  This
takes your weight off of the animal's center of
balance and allows free movement around turns and
corners."  Her breasts heaved up down, up down, up
down with an extra jiggle each time she sat and at
each apex of rising:  ah to be that saddle, up down up
down up down up down, 1,2,1,2,1,2,1,2.  His head began
to spin as she spoke:  "Your rhythm tells your horse
how fast you want to go, you can go slower."  As she
rose and sat slower he was unaware that his hand
rubbed slower in time with her.  "Or faster," up down,
up down, up down, up down, he rubbed faster and began
to breath fast, "slower," her breasts looked like slow
motion, he thought he could see her nipples harden
under her sports bra and t-shirt.

  Is it possible that she is getting some sort of
pleasure from this rising and sitting?  He watched a
little closer.  "Faster," up down, up down, up down,
he saw her cheeks flush and two distinct points at the
center of each breast.  They were so hard that her
shirt began to grow a line between them.  He could
barely stand knowing that she had big nipples, he
loved big nipples.  "And slower," he could see her
breathing quicker, this could be simply because she
was exerting some energy.  However, seeing her rising
and sitting, panting with parted lips, chest heaving,
cheeks flushed and hard nippled she looked like she
was fucking.  Up down, up down, up down, up down.  "I
want you all to practice this without stirrups.  Begin
with the sitting trot until your legs are completely
stretched down and you feel glued to your saddle. 
Then begin your rising trot without stirrups."  She
dropped her feet from her stirrups as she spoke and
began to sit as the animal continued the bumpy gait. 
Sit, sit, sit.  Her hips wiggled in time with the
quick pace.  She was grinding the saddle in such a way
that he changed his up down gliding stroke to short
tugs just below his swollen, purple head.  His balls
began to pull up inside and tighten.  He watched her
every move.  Tits bouncing. Sit, sit, sit. 1,1,1,1,1. 
Tug, tug, tug.  His index finger began to rub just
under his head at the beginning of the sensitive spot
he loved to have licked:  ah to be that saddle.

  He could see her flushed face and her parted lips as
her eyes began to roll slightly back, her hips
grinding the saddle, her legs straight and her toes
pointing up.  She tensed for a moment and her jaw
clenched.  Sid he see her shudder ever so slightly has
her horse dropped abruptly into a walk?  
At this very moment his own eruption sent shivers of
release through him has he squeezed his balls and sent
a stream into the hay below.

~~~

  After he finished the stalls that day, he was in the
tack room cleaning some of the bridles.  He leaned
against a saddle resting on a saddle stand.  His
thoughts drifted back to the lesson early that day. 
His crotch tingled as he smiled thinking of her
hardened nipples.  He always wondered why women liked
riding, he suspected but never knew.  He finished
cleaning a bridle and reached across the saddle for
another.  Glancing down, he realized this was her
saddle.  The one she road in competitions and on
trails.  The one which housed her rising and sitting
crease that he strained at each chance to get sight
of.  Her crack was virtually here with him now.  Well
the resting spot at least.  Beggars can't be choosers
he thought as he let his hips press forward into the
hard leather.

  He began to stiffen as he caressed the soft, black,
padded seat.  He fingered the pommel as if it were her
slit; sliding back and forth and over the edge like it
was her clit.  He was fully erect now and needed some
room.  He unzipped and pulled himself out.  Touching
the tip of his head to the leather seat, a drop of
juice dripped out of him.  He quickly wiped it off for
fear of leaving a stain.  He pulled more at himself
and freed his still tight balls over the edge of his
cloths as he raised a leg to straddle the rack. 
Slowly he rested himself into the saddle and closed
his eyes.  His cock stiffened to an unrecognizable
hardness as his balls rested down onto the leather: 
ah to be this saddle as she rises and sits in that
rhythm.  That fucking rhythm on my cock, up and down,
up down, up down he stroked as his balls slapped
against the leather.

  He could feel his pleasure rising when he heard the
door open.  He let out a gasp when he looked up.  It
was her.  And he here in such a state.  Althoug she
stared unmoved for an uncomfortable amount of time,
his erection did not abate.  The surprise sent a rush
through him and he was now coursing with passion.  His
nipples became hard and his penis stood straight up
even though he had let go of it.  He was hot with
embarrassment.  He wondered if he would faint with so
much blood concentrated in two places of his body.

  Just then she stepped in and closed the door behind
him.  What?  He was confused, frightened and extremely
turned on as he wondered what she was about to do.  He
was not used to this vulnerability.  He felt like the
defenseless, bridled horse waiting for instruction
from the master.  He was sweating profusely and could
feel his balls begin to stick to the saddle, the
leather felt good.  Hell, his shirt felt good.  Ss the
sensations spilled out of his body he could pin point
each sense being used:  he could smell her scent as
she approached in, what appeared to him as, slow
motion; his vision became acute as he searched for
that nipple line across her shirt; he could almost
taste her lips which were parted as her breath
quickened; his sense of touch was heightened since his
orgasm was interrupted right at the magic moment; he
could hear his heart pounding like a bass drum while
still being aware of her boot steps across the wooden
floor, 1,2,1,2,1,2 like the rising trot.

  He stopped breathing when she lifted and pulled off
her shirt and bra in one swift movement, revealing two
perfect, round white mounds with half inch pink
nipples.  He began to salivate as she approached,
penis jutting straight up with no visible support. 
She stepped over him straddled his lap, her breasts
pendulous and hanging within inches of his mouth.  She
looked at him like she was angry with him when she
told him to take off his clothes.  He gulped and could
not believe what was happening as he stood up to
remove his overalls, then his button up shirt and long
johns.  It felt like forever as his nervous fingers
fumbled with each button, snap, zipper, hook, lock. 
His wood never dissipated though.  She did not move
from her position as he grazed and bumped her now and
then.  This turned him on so very much.  Allowing
himself minimal access to her made him savor the
moment when he could actually taste her, when she
would be riding him: ah to be the saddle.

  He stood there stark naked with a huge erection and
she stared at his stiffness for what to him was a very
long time.  This turned him on to have this topless
woman who, up til now, was the object of his fantasy,
staring at him.  His penis jutted up at this thought
and she smiled at him, "do you want to go for a ride?"
 He could only nod, yes, yes, yes.  "Sit."  the
leather felt good, cool against his hot skin.  His
balls pressed into the seat as his erection pointed up
towards her crease.

  He looked at her tight riding pants and could see a
slight wet spot.  Was this sweat or is she wet from
watching him?  He reached up and pressed a thumb into
the wet spot making her gasp and let out a faint
squeal.  She sucked air in through her teeth as he
rubbed up from there, pulling her uncontrolled hips
with his hand movement.  He rubbed back and her hips
followed, forward, back, forward, back-he rubbed her
with the length of his hand as her body swayed with
him.  He felt so powerful in this moment, he felt like
the saddle, pushing and pulling her hips with him. 
She pushed his hand away and told him to lean back.

  His cock jutted up from the saddle and he rested on
his behind with his feet on the floor in front of him.
 This made his lap a perfect setting place for her
luscious crease.  She pealed herself out of her riding
boots and jodhpurs.  He could see her sticky underwear
pull reluctantly away from her labia and could not
blame them when he saw her beautiful lips pulled down
and hanging there from between her legs.  She shaved
herself and the pink flower of her center was a sight
for him to behold.  He told her to step forward, she
obliged and her crease was directly at his mouth.  He
reached up and gently pulled apart her lips to reveal
her inner portions.  He buried his tongue deep into
the hole, covering the labia, and clit with his lips. 
He slowly and delicately ran his tongue up the center
and over her clit while sucking.  She squirmed and
gripped his face with her inner thigh.  He pulled away
with a great sucking sound, sucking her juicy wetness.


  She was so ready he couldn't believe it.  He was
used to a lot of foreplay before he could comfortably
slip his size into most women.  He had yet to test the
inside which he did not hesitate to do next.  As he
held her vagina open with two fingers on one hand, he
slipped the middle finger of his other hand into her. 
She gasped and squeezed his finger as it entered.  He
pulled out and her hips followed him; she really
wanted him.  He sucked the juice off of his finger and
heard her moan as she watched.  He slipped back into
her gliding over the hood of her clit.  Her clit
seemed to be bigger and harder than before so he
investigated.  Sure enough, as he stroked it, it
swelled.  She moaned and rocked but he didn't want to
let her cum yet so he stopped and slid into her, this
time with his index and middle fingers.  He juicy cunt
sucked them in and he squeezed.  He pumped her slowly
a couple of times with these fingers and could hardly
bare it.

  He pulled out of her, leaned back and said "Sit." 
She squatted over his erection, pulling herself open
and slid slowly onto him.  He said "Walk."  She began
to simulate what she did on horseback, squeezing with
one then the other thigh.  This made her rock forward
and back on each side as she squeezed him inside and
out.  "Trot on" he said.  As he began to buck up and
down in a 1,2 rhythm she bobbed up and down on him for
a few paces as he opened the palms of his hands and
let them graze her nipple tops.  This made her shiver
and he slowly cupped her bobbing breasts.  "Rising
trot" he said as the passion rose in him.  She began
to pump up then down, up then down, up down, up down,
up down and breath faster.  He followed her rhythm
holding onto her breasts, licking the nipples gently
as they passed his mouth with each up and down
movement.  She humped him faster when he said faster. 
Finally the were pounding and humping in rhythm with 
each other, his arms wrapped around her sucking and
licking her breasts and nipples, rocking his hard cock
into her 1,1,1,1,1,1, she began to pant into his ear
and whispered I'm cumming.  She held him close and
squeezed him until he though he would pop.  He let out
a cry and filled her with his warm expenditure.  She
slowly rocked to a stop on top of her black leather
saddle:  ah to be this saddle.


                        -- The End --


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