HOT CHEEKS ON HORSEBACK
Rosie is a horse lover. When she is ready to ride or to play, her latest lover has to find out quickly what Rosie is in to.
Rosemary knows her horses and her cowpokes and there is nothing she revels in more than riding or being ridden. Her foreplay is a bottle of Chablis followed by a brisk, bare-assed romp under the stars on the back of a horse, body parts bouncing to and fro in rapacious splendor. The two of us could pass for frolicking Minotaurs beneath the pale moonlight.
Then there is her frantic desire to be spanked. She likes it best when my balls rest on the small of her backside where I can reach behind and slap the crap out of that gorgeous, pale split moon that is Rosie's rump. She says she likes to experience both the feeling of a mare being ridden and the rush of her bare butt banging against the broad back of a horse -- two pleasures in one. So I naturally comply. I mount her regularly, ride her hard, and put her away wet with an ass that can glow in the dark.
Rosie is a classic nymphet. Her sweet, innocent features surrounded by swirls of golden locks combined with a petite frame make the triple-D cup size kazooms mounted on her torso all the more spectacular. The breasts are beautifully shaped and highlighted with smaller twin mounds of smooth, darker pink circles culminating in perfect delectable nipples. You can suck those twin bitches all night and never hit a wet spot, or fuck them with equal pleasure. Ummmm, ummmm, good.
She is as sharp as a tack but with the sense to act like a dumb blonde or a wanton whore if the mood calls for it. I say this with no disrespect. In fact, I worship the ground she walks on. I've been with quite a few cracker-jack gals in my time, but Rosie will always stand out in more ways than one.
She is great at gamesmanship. She blurts out the words when playing Charades and always loses at strip poker. While spanking or screwing, her offhand remarks like "It's so fucking big" or "You make my little twat feel soooo hot" or "Slap those bitchin' mounds till they're purple" are pleasures unto themselves. So, even though she likes to act as if some of the light bulbs in her chandelier need tightening, when it comes to romping and loving, Rosie is a symphony.
My first date with Rosie was fairly straightforward. Bending her over my knee with slaphappy hands, whips, or riding crops would come later. After a discussion of our mutual love of horses -- I happen to be the proud owner of two -- I stopped playing with my wine glass and stuck my tongue into the crevasse of her magnificent décolletage. My testicles had tightened from want of her. We kissed and fondled then took the remaining wine into my bedroom.
I quickly undressed her like a teenager in heat forgetting everything I'd learned over the years about a slow hand and patience. She obviously did not mind my haste as she sat on the edge of the bed and fumbled with my belt and zipper to liberate my penis. I was quite proud of his immediate response to her touch. Old one-eye rose like a drawbridge to meet her emerald gaze. My erection trembled at the thought of slipping between her lips, beyond her teeth and into the recesses of her throat. She touched its wet tip with her finger and strung the silky lubrication two inches away from its point of origin, creating the image of a spider spinning the first link of its silvery web.
Rosemary, acting like Alice in Wonderland, looked at the discharge with wonder, as if she was not aware of such things. She looked up at me and smiled, then wrapped both hands around my throbbing cock, leaving only the glistening crown exposed like a turtle poking its head from its shell. Her lips parted and her tongue appeared. It approached the tiny slit. As she licked the tip's cloven underside, I reached below her chin and lifted the weighty breasts, twisted her nipples and held in my jism for all I was worth.
After what seemed a heavenly eternity, her hands fell away. One grabbed my tightly stretched scrotum and the other titillated my anus. She drew the silken head into her mouth and swallowed the shaft to its hilt. I closed my eyes in rapture, gritted my teeth and prayed to the heavens for staying power. I couldn't explode, not until this angel of mercy had been lifted up and impaled on my bulging member.
I gently pulled my penis out or her mouth. Her head turned up in puzzlement. "Are you ready to fuck me like you were that stallion out in the corral?" she asked through lips that were pink and moist, a match to the vaginal lips I was about to penetrate. I felt I had the strength of ten men as I lifted her tight fanny and dropped her onto my swollen, straining manhood, which by now had become a well-oiled cylindrical heat-seeking missile.
Rosie unleashed an excited little scream of delight and wrapped her ankles around my waist. My desire to explode subsided long enough to hang on as my wildcat rode me with abandon, grunting on each down-stroke, screaming, "I want to give you the spurs, cowboy, ride you till you're bloody." It mattered little who was riding who. Pumping away, up and down till my sweat dripped like raindrops on her tits and her legs slithered against my hips. A sparkling rivulet of perspiration oozed in her cleavage as she bucked and waved one arm in the air like she was aboard a barroom bull.
Her immense breasts seemed to have a life of their own as they vibrated, giggled and finally trembled in the throws of her first orgasm. All the while Rosie murmured my name. Her thighs tightened making it hard to breathe. Her legs shook. Finally, she melted against me like warm butter.
I bent my knees to remain inside her for, surprisingly, my passion was unabated. We fell onto the bed and I ravished her with a randy lust I had never before experienced. Her intensity combined with a strange sense of blonde innocence and ambition drove me to heights previously unimagined. She seemed as hungry as I for the closeness, as if there mightn't be another chance for our bodies to become one. I prayed that wouldn't be true as we drank and rejoiced in one another's pinnacle of passion.
In the days to come, I quickly discovered that nocturnal drinking and riding bareback and bare-assed were merely the second and third best ways to bring my newly found love-muffin's ribald leanings to fruition. "Nothing like a gallop with a horse rubbing against my pussy and watching a man's cock and balls bouncing against horsehide to put me in the mood, next to being spanked when I want to be a bad girl, that is," she would tell me. Her first love was a pummeling of the backside, you see. And I learned to comply with whatever my little vixen's heart desired, although I was always amazed that Rosie's butt did not turn bright purple the day after one of our rollicking nights of erotic swattings and romance.
A typical date with Rosie is to go to a party and flirt with other people to rev up our libidos. Then we go to my ranch and strip each other down. For a sexual appetizer, she gobbles my cock before we mount our trusty steeds. She likes to call it "that meaty swinging sumbitch," or "the squirt-meister." If there was a school for tongue control, Rosie would be a master instructor.
We ride and bounce, my cock flailing one way then the other, her hugs tits springing forth in circular rotations conducting the choir of night creatures singing their own mating calls.
Finally, we cut the horses loose to find their way to the stable. After the ride, Rosie is more than ready for our parlor games. Already naked and lathered up, I lift her backside into position and lays hands on an instrument of my sex partner's desire. Her buttocks quickly glows from a light dusting with the switch. I tenderly kiss the little red lines while she begs for my palm to punish her further. "Make me cry and I'll promise to be good," she tells me. I spank her until the tears come and that's when she bids me to mount her. She says something like, "Thank you for letting the pain enhance my pleasure."
I kiss both cheeks of her beloved ass again before I flip her over. Then I climb on top and strike once, hard and fast for openers. So excited by the act of spanking the fleshy swollen orbs into submission, I unleash a torrent of stirred and shaken whipped cream to fill her crack. While her calves ride high on my shoulders I can watch those beautiful honey melons jiggle to and fro, round and round with each plunge. Once satisfied, I snorkel into her freshly fucked crack and eat her fur-lined pussy while my hands find their way beneath her so that I can knead the abused and tender meat of her violated ass-cheeks.
Rosie has few additional rules, but one is that she gets sucked between spanks and fucks. So I suck hard on her canal of lust, covering my face with her juices. On those occasions when she squirts, I look like a babe she's just delivered, except I'm smiling, not crying. She believes everyone deserves a course of what she calls her "fur burger" or "hair-pie dessert", depending on the time of day. The woman is a virtual buffet.
As I lap at her layers of kitty, I look up from the pink petals that surround the inner sanctum and I see those proud, perky erasers setting atop each equally taut tit and beyond, a swatch of curly locks that are in perfect harmony with the golden snatch I've been snacking on.
At this point in the evening, Rosie starts talking nasty. She calls me names like slave-master, or cunt-buster, or clit-licker, or maybe she just says, "Spank my butt again, get to fuck again." Sometimes she adds a little extra tease by blowing a fart while I'm chowing down. Great effect, especially when mixed with the slight aroma of her corral mount. My nose, lips and tongue in her vagina are like drinking pure nectar from the gods. When she's ready to be punished again, I thank her for the late night snack and move on to the next course.
With our passion on a roll, I flip her over onto her considerable titties and modest tummy and slap her derriere until she cries "Uncle." Then it is my great pleasure to attack from the rear. We proceed with sucking and fucking variations until exhaustion overwhelms us.
On one particular evening we rode the ponies for and hour. That led to previously unknown heights in Rosie's need for indulgence. I began by swatting her with a long-handled comb before using my palms until my hands wore out. Satisfied with the butt abuse for the time being, she informed me that it was game-time where anything goes. We accomplished several Kama Sutra positions -- but, alas, I was tiring. Going back to basics, I drilled for Rosie's oil from the front while her legs wiggled skyward. Watching those beautiful tits jiggle with every trust never becomes tiresome, nor does eating her pussy or even the spanking for she seems to relish it so. I have to admit that the combination of red ass and the mixture of hair -- the woman scent and the mare sweat -- can be an intoxicating combination.
Sometimes she wants to play Carnival, where she sits on my face and I guess her weight. My nose, lips and tongue burrowed deep into her vagina experiencing that sweet nectar. With the smell of human and horse heavily in the air, she moaned softly and told me how she enjoyed my late-night snacks.
I worked her into position for our second coupling of the evening by pulling her body back over her knees and spreading her legs apart, wanting to screw her doggie style -- my personal favorite. We, of course, call it horsy-style. As her spanked rump came toward me, my lover moaned in phonetic murmurs. Pure violet was the formerly pale mounds that rose to me in anticipation.
With her fanny up, I stared at Rosie's puckered sphincter and her bright pink vaginal lips that smiled sideways at me, mesmerized by their amazing sensuality. Her cunt is trimmed by two parallel rows of light down that run along the edge of the tight cavity that divides her body into halves like a tree-lined road that leads the weary traveler to the end of the rainbow and the City of God that is Rosemary's golden fleece -- the place where all journeys should end. What looked like morning dew made the fleece sparkle from the saliva I'd left in great quantity.
Never tiring of the spectacle, I studied the sight momentarily, comparing it to other bare asses and bushes I have observed while the fullness of her smooth but swollen heinie renewed my vigor. I delicately separated her thighs, preparing to feast with the gods. Rosemary latched onto a pillow, cradled it under her head and squeezed it like a second lover. Transfixed by lust, I gave her twat a quick lick for good measure. Making wetter what was wet already, I feasted on the dew of her womanhood until my arousal was more than I could bear.
As exhausted as I was, I grabbed a handful of her palomino mane and prepared to ride her like a charioteer, in control of the head with my hands and her hips as my sword thrust into her sheath. I slapped her ass and watched the cheeks inflame all the more before finally ramming my cock to its greatest depth into the sweet spot between those two lovely mounds of Rosie's flesh. It made her squeak like a happy guinea pig that had just gotten a raw carrot.
Once securely inside her, I pulled her off the bed onto the floor without missing a stroke. My hands wandered from her hair and reached for her gargantuan breasts, which now hung down and swung like two giant, water-filled balloons, skimming the carpet, making her nipples stiff. I squeezed and pulled on her tits wanting to taunt them the way I had taunted her rear-end as I banged away, my balls flopping into her furry, golden fuzz.
"Ride 'em, Cowboy. Do me good. Pound my mound until I see fireworks," she grunted encouragingly.
I spread her cheeks farther apart, arching my back for the deepest penetration possible, going fast, then slow, then fast again. I felt as if I was mounted on the winged Pegasus riding into the heavens. She screamed with fiery passion imploring me to never stop. I played her like a finely crafted instrument of music, coaxing forth the most beautiful of notes.
I kicked my ass into fifth gear as orgasm neared. With a tremor of exaltation and screaming that angels were weeping, my cock exploded like a starburst, bursting forth with love juice that came in throbbing waves of delirium. I imagined sea waves crashing into high, jagged cliffs, a football squirting out of a receiver's arms, Chinese New Year! Life was good. Spanking then fucking this wild and crazy gal had this kind of effect on my psyche. Then I slipped out, reduced, pausing long enough to see my semen ooze from her love hole and drip from the tangled hair around Rosie's sweet spot. Then I collapsed next to her, sweating like I'd stepped out of a sauna.
She crawled to my belly, purring approvingly about what a good fuck it had been considering how tired I was. She proceeded to munch on my flaccid penis and lick my balls. Then she hummed "I'm A Yankee Doodle Dandy" with my nuts in her mouth until, once again, I felt like a four-balled tomcat on his night out. I spanked and fucked Rosie several more times in a variety of positions, including "porking her rear hole," as she puts it, going for some sort of unofficial, unattainable record. Knowing that even Rosie had to be able to sit down the next day, the latter spankings were light and playful. She must have her limits, or so I thought.
The coup de grace on this night of pleasure was Rosie opting for her preferred position: she on top of me and saddled up. What else would one expect from a horse lover? I must admit that no matter how spent I might feel, the sight of those gigantic, pink Cadillac bumpers, bouncing proudly, nipples turned up, the rhythmic undulating of her pelvis with that blonde patch covering her pubis jutting toward me could bring many a limp dick back from the dead.
We were both racked with one more spontaneous bone jarring, flesh-chilling orgasm. When she rose up, my dick popped out of her like a rubber band and I wondered if I would ever have a night of one-on-one straight sex like this again. Loving to suck cock almost as much as she loved to ride horses and get her fanny spanked, she again licked me clean and finally lay down beside me, idly twisting my pubic hair around her fingers, and appearing no less energized than when the evening began.
As I lay there, totally sucked dry, listening to the symphony in my head I liked to call "Rosie's Orifice Opus #1," she raised her lips to my ear and whispered, "Let's do some kinky stuff now. Maybe play like we were riding naked on the back of two jungle cats and we get captured by a bunch of natives that want to torture, spank and fuck the shit out of us or something. Okay?"
That's my Rosie, insatiable wench that she is. There's no keeping this crafty, sex crazy nymph off my knee or down for long. Sometimes, you just have to do your duty, go with the flow, and give her all the hand, tongue, and cock she wants in hopes that she doesn't become bored. Hey, I'll even share her with other couples if their cocks, balls, pussies, and spanked asses can handle the sundown-galloping-over-the-north-forty foreplay. And if they can handle the aroma of cunt mixed with horsehair.