Unknown - Sex-crazed stallion

It had been so fantastic. There was no way they could take that away from her, nor could they deprive her of it in the future. She too had felt the touch of desperation in her father's voice, had noticed just then and in the past also how he would suddenly seem to simply fall apart over no reason. Become morose, depressed, silent.

She simply had learned to ignore it, but now it seemed as though there was a new note of urgency being added. She didn't like it.

Not at all!

How could she?

How could the trivial day to day problems in the life of this house possibly compare to what she had felt this morning?

She opened her door again and after checking to make certain that there was no one lurking in a dark corner she got a towel from the closet and went into the bathroom to take a shower.

Sherry had been right. She did smell. Of him.

His sweat, and the scent of his body lingered on her thighs, on her stomach where she had leaned against his powerful neck, on her breasts where she had pressed herself into him…

Truly they had flown. He might have been a giant condor come to take her to another land entirely, so magical had the feeling been.

She had ridden him down to the creek, and then followed the bank away in a direction that she had never before taken, a direction that led away from their house and their world.

And they had flown.

Halfway down the slope they had come to another broad opened space, this time without a fence, with no restraining limits at all, and she had let him open up to a full gallop, hooves pounding into the earth like thunder, sending shock waves of energy rippling through her body.

Her legs were spread wide to wrap around his bulk. And she felt her body opening between her legs, felt the soft flesh of her cunt rubbing up and down on his back, his smooth coat like velvet against her clitoris, the vibrations of his body like a jackhammer pounding into her pussy again and again with every driving step.

As she stepped into the shower and began to wash the traces of his body off her own, she knew that in a way she could never remove mark he had made on her.

She had become transformed, she had felt herself transcending the world that she found herself a prisoner in, felt herself rise above it, experience for the first time in her life, something new.

She had driven him to his limits, digging her body into his, racing back and forth across the field, coming in insane orgasmic bursts again and again.

The lips of her pussy were spread wide as she rubbed herself over him, as she spread her juice into his shiny coat.

Lathering the soap in the washcloth she thought of the lather he had worked up in her, how her pussy had felt whipped to a froth as together they thundered over the untouched land.

She was part of that land, had become more than simply a bored little girl. She had felt a purpose suddenly awaken in her, and though it was still unfocused, lacking direction, remaining simply a wordless feeling inside her guts, she felt for the first time truly alive. The peace and tranquillity she had always felt from getting away, being alone were now replaced by an urgency of her own, one that she couldn't have explained, but which was visible enough to fill her father with dread.

And always, it came back to herself and her body. Her deeply held conviction that her body belonged to her and nobody else. And the pleasure her body was capable of given and experiencing was hers too. Hers to do with as she pleased.

She rubbed the soapy cloth over her breasts and allowed the rough textured material to stimulate her nipples. They grew hard, turning to small fleshy stones at the tips of her aureole.

She pulled the washcloth between her legs and felt her clitoris tingle in response. Slowly, washing the inside of each thigh, down to her feet, back up again to her flat smooth stomach, behind her back, through the crack between her buttocks, up again to her breasts, she slowly turned her entire body into a single erogenous zone, a single organ of arousal, response bubbling up from every single point along the surface of her skin.

She was in love with her body. She loved to touch it, to feel it respond. She never tired of it.

She turned the water on harder and adjusted the shower jet so that it shot out in a single fierce stream, which she aimed at her breasts, allowing the fine droplets to shoot like soft bullets at her, penetrating her body with sensation, pushing her state of arousal higher and higher.

She was leaning against the wall of the shower stall now, her firm breasts perfect targets for the jet of water. As her nipples sizzled beneath the blast, her fingers sought out the soft opening between her legs and entered the pliant flesh, spreading the already parted lips further, entering with first one, then two, and finally three fingers, pushing apart the membranes and moist walls to make room. It was like a torch had been ignited inside her.

She had been well initiated into the possibilities of what her pussy was capable of by her father's cock, and whether she liked him or not, he had shown her what her body was able to do.

But the mere contraction of muscles in her abdomen was not the same as… as this utter pleasure.

For more than a year now, after every evening spent with her father's cock in her, with his lips on her breasts, on her clit, his tongue licking her pussy, digging into her asshole, she would retire to the privacy of her room, and repeat the lessons just learned.

But she knew how to make her body tingle and shiver, knew exactly how to touch herself, how to wring the last ounce of pleasure from every pore, from every square centimeter of her skin.

Now her fingers were pressing against her clitoris from inside her pussy, pushing into the underside, shooting electricity through every nerve, up through her breasts, swelling from the continuing blast of hot water beating against them, back down to her legs, muscles tensing, growing taut, convulsing over into spasms beyond her control.

Her entire body slowly slipped past the line of her conscious control, and still she drove herself upward, ripping her fingers through her pussy till she thought her arm would drop off from exhaustion.

And beneath it all, giving to all her movements and manipulations the unifying counterpoint of a rhythmic pulse, her memory of her flight through the wilderness on the back of a magic steed, the steady pounding of his hooves matching the pounding of the jet of hot water against her breasts, the persistent in and out thrusts of her hand through her cunt… It was he finally, who pushed her over, just as he had done when she rode him.

Again her brain fell apart, her thoughts turned to ribbons of smoke scattered by the wind rippling through her blonde hair and once more, in her mind, she was on him, mounting him, feeling the strength in his muscles, the power and absolute perfection of his body, the unity between them…

Her orgasm dropped her to the floor of the stall, and she lay there for a good while, breathing shallow breaths as water spilled down on top of her. She was as in a dream, and felt no desire to awaken.

Filling her thoughts now, overpowering all else, she saw his mane waving like a thousand tiny pennants in the wind, saw his thick brush of a tail flying straight out behind him, saw the earth splatter as each hoof bit into the ground…

She wanted him. In some unconscious form, the thought took shape. She wanted him, and she knew that she would find a way. She was tired of being a mere sexual servant. She wanted something that was all her own. She would have it!

"I'm telling you, this fucking ledge was bigger when we were climbing up it!"

Johnny Talbert was suddenly no longer kidding about being scared of heights. From where he stood, which was on about five inches of none-too-solid looking rock, he had very good reason to be scared.