The Best Erotic Stories.

Pony Girl
by Andra Jenny

We bring her to a party.
She relaxes and has a good time.
We tease her sex and feel her up.
Slowly work her to the basement door.
She is relaxed, ready for adventure.
She is a party girl.
She is rushed.

We have a surprise.
She is blindfolded.
We lead her down to the basement.
We massage her with penis, hand, and tongue.
I can smell her sex.
She is a party girl.
She is rushed.

In the caressing, she is stripped.
Black crotchless panties are slid on to her legs and up her thighs.
They will feel good when the new leather brushes against them.
When the leather is well-oiled and broken in, she will no longer need them.
She is relaxed, trusting, and ready.
She is a party girl.
She is rushed.

Knee pads are slid on.
Full length leather boots come up over her knees.
The heels are tall, bringing her ass up.
She feels hot, sensual.
She is in a fantasy.
She is a cowgirl.
She is rushed.

Her new leather chaps are tied tightly to her.
Now only the backs of her thighs and her bare ass are exposed.
Her pussy peeks through the openness of the chaps.
We fondled her soft mound and kiss her wet lips.
She wiggles sensually.
She is a cowgirl.
She is rushed.

The small leather bra has only bottom cups.
They cradle her tits, high and jutting.
We gently lick the circles of her exposed nipples.
Slowly she grinds her hips and legs against the leather.
She enjoys the soft roughness.
She is a cowgirl.
She is rushed.

Her hands are held behind her.
She does not care as long as the caressing is there.
She responds eagerly to our exploring touches.
She melts into the warmth of our mouths.
She is relaxed and feels in control.
She is a cowgirl.
She is rushed.

She hovers, close to orgasm.
She gasps and writhes, pressing us with her desire.
A heavy leather belt with thick rings is fastened about her waist.
It rides firmly on her hips.
She smiles dreamily and comes.
She is a cowgirl.
She is rushed.

She is kissed and blindly, she kisses back.
Her nipples, her ass, her tongue, all seek to be caressed.
Her pussy is rubbed, she spreads her legs.
Not too far.
Her ankles are held at shoulder's width.
She is a cowgirl.
She is rushed.

She is hobbled.
She pretends to barely notice.
She has always had a special fantasy about strong cowboys.
Her leather fantasy has some light bondage.
She shivers with excitement.
She is a cowgirl.
She is rushed.

Her arms are crossed behind her back, palms to elbows.
The excitement of being bound nearly overcomes her.
She is saddled.
The leather saddle is ornamental.
She does not know it is a saddle.
She is a cowgirl.
She is rushed.

At the bottom end are the straps that bind the saddle to her arms.
At the top of the saddle, a thick collar.
It is tightened about her neck.
It stretches the saddle across her back and pulls her arms up and tighter.
The stirrups are on long, sturdy straps.
She is a cowgirl.
She is rushed.

The leash is snapped on.
Her head is held up high.
She begins to wonder if she has lost control.
Confused, she tells herself she is still a cowgirl.
She is not panicked.
She is a cowgirl.
She is rushed.

Her breasts jut out.
We nibble and suck on them.
We stroke her ass and thighs.
We kiss her musky mouth.
We calm her.
She is a cowgirl.
She is rushed.

The bit is forced into her mouth.
She fights the bit.
She is flushed.
Trembling.
We must hold her up.
She is a scared girl.
She is rushed.

She is rushed, heavily.
She gasps and squirms as the hard-rubber plug is pushed into her ass.
She cannot escape the piercing pain.
The plug is cold, greasy, and thick.
It would not be cold for long.
She is a ponygirl.
She is rushed.

Her tail is firmly plugged into her ass.
She stands there with her mouth half open, breathing heavily.
Later her molars will be removed.
She now knows she is not a cowgirl.
My fist holds the leash at the collar.
She is a ponygirl.
She is rushed.

Head held high and blindfolded, she is led about.
Her hobbled gait swishes her tail across her ass.
Hands caress and whips playfully swat at her exposed cheeks.
She begins to strut and to beckon with her sex.
Later she will be fitted for blinders.
She is a ponygirl.
She is rushed.

She feels the weight of the cart as she is put into the harness.
She feels her first tug of the reins.
It pulls her head back and I release the leash.
She prances as she learns to obey crop and bit.
We take turns driving her.
She is a ponygirl.
She is rushed.

She is hitched to the rail, the saddle parallel to the ground.
Her breasts hang free from their half-shells.
Her tail curves up, then gently splays across bare backside.
The stirrups, now inches from the ground.
She can only wait for what is next.
She is a ponygirl.
She is rushed.

She is auctioned.
The high bidder takes her for a ride.
He pulls his pony cart along-side and facing me.
I fondle and molest her.
With a crack of the whip the ride continues.
She is a ponygirl.
She is rushed.

The reins pull her sharply back.
The stirrups bend her over and hold her in place as she is taken.
The reins are tied off forcing her head up and back.
She is mounted.
She is ridden.
She is a ponygirl.
She is rushed.

With a crack of the whip the ride continues.
Reality seeps into her mind, cramps into her arms, and semen into her leather.
Her rider dismounts and pulls her head down to the rail.
She is hitched to the post.
Ready for her next fare.
She is a ponygirl.
She is rushed.

Send all comments about this poem to Andra Jenny.
 
How good was this Poem?


[Garbage!!]


[Try Harder!]


[Average]


[Damn Good!]


[Amazing!!]


 

Home | Story Index | Contact Us | Other Sites

All contents Copyright 1999 by literotica.com.
No part may be reproduced in any form without explicit written permission.