Ponygirl Tales

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Authors: Don Winslow
Tags: Erótica
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of the grooms. Geoffrey knew a lot about the daily lives of the ponygirls. He spent whatever time he could spying on them. To say he was fascinated by his Uncle’s prized collection would be an understatement -- the young lad was positively obsessed! Visions of naked ponygirls prancing in high-stepping tandem, kept the tormented teen in a more-or-less permanent state of sexual arousal. His days were filled with embarrassing incidents as the healthy young lad seemed to be constantly walking around with an all-too-obvious erection obscenely tenting the front of his jeans. He would never forget the humiliating accident he had that day when playful Stormy had abruptly backed up into the surprised teenager, pinning him to the side of the stall while giving a devilish wiggle to grind her naked rump hard into his blue-jeaned crotch. Before he realized what was happening young Geoffrey had creamed his jeans! He stood there aghast, mortified to feel the warm stickiness as the telltale stain spread across the front of his pants in front of his indulgent uncle and the wide-grinning groom. Days and nights in the sexual hothouse his eccentric relatives had created at that remote Estate, kept the randy lad in constant heat. Several times a day when the hard fury of unrelenting sex gripped him, he had rush to his room to seek a few moments of blessed relief provided by his pleasuring hand. Nights were sheer hell. He went to his bedroom early. Hot and sweaty, he tossed restlessly with a fistful of tangled sheets wrapped around his painfully stiff cock, pumping his hand, masturbating furiously, through climax after climax, till blessed sleep finally released him from his burning torture. Now, as the barely-breathing boy and the proud ponygirl stood sizing each other up, he felt his penis stirring in his pants, awakening to the call of duty. He was struck by the way twin beams of sunlight streamed down to set ablaze the soft folds of auburn hair that gave the girl her pony name. As in a dream, he moved closer to her stall. Those hard, curious eyes followed him, looking up at the tall lanky boy from under a smooth fold of burnished hair that angled down to sweep rakishly across her brow. Geoffrey had been planning this rendezvous with Snicker in mind because, although he was taking a chance being alone with the bubbly and sprightly girl, he was pretty sure he would get a welcoming reception. But the older Flare was an altogether different matter! While he lusted after the perky Snicker, he positively adored the unapproachable Flare. The lad was awestruck the first time he laid eyes on her: she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. No, not really a girl, he reminded himself, but a woman, a mature, exciting woman, devastatingly attractive, and deeply sensual. (If the truth be told, the ponygirl, now known as “Flare,” was a good-looking young woman in her early 30s, but in the smitten eyes of the sex-crazed teenager, she was the epitome of mature femininity, an elegant, experienced woman, so terribly, achingly desirable.)  His penis surged into full prominence, and he tried to swallow down the knot of lust that constricted his throat. His eyes took in the strong-boned yet handsome features of that fine womanly face, the strong nose with wide-flaring nostrils, and the wide painted lips with just the hint of pout to the lower one that protruded slightly. Her brows were angled upward from the center, and with the skin pulled tight over her high cheekbones, they lent her the fierce pride of a raptor. The slender column of her neck had been banded by the high 4-inch collar of soft leather which she wore with certain air of arrogance. Was this beauty actually proud to be collared? His eyes fell down her front to her naked breasts, not large, but wide-set flattened mounds, tautly-drawn, with tight nipples that jutted straight out from their very centers. He stared at her bare breasts; she let the boy look, answering his questioning eyes with

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