Horseplay - Sex Stories

Horseplay

... and expensive education. ‘Poor old bugger. He was quite something when I married him. Never marry a much older man, darling. Oh, but then, you’re not exactly the marrying kind are you?’ ‘Well, not in the traditional sense, no.’ ‘Of course, I forgot we can all marry now. You’re with our lovely Victoria?’ I confirmed this. ‘Well, she’s a lucky one and no mistake. Why the sling?’ I explained about my accident and my inherent loathing of horses. ‘Like men, darling, you need to show them who's boss.’ ‘That was what Vicky said, just before the bastard thing hurled me onto a fence post.’ She laughed revealing good teeth. ‘Our Victoria, well, your Victoria I suppose one should say, is a fine horsewoman. I’m Debra,’ she spelt it, ‘and he is, or perhaps by now was George. Don’t imagine he’ll be my George much longer. He can barely stand, let alone dance, bless him.’ Vicky arrived at that moment, glowing. She kissed Debra fondly and with her hand resting on my shoulder. ‘Mind if I drag my bird onto the dance floor, Debs? She needs the exercise. She’s been malingering lately.’ ‘We cant have that, can we Victoria. Perhaps you’d lend her to me later? If she gets too much for you, that is?’ As we walked to the floor, I said, ‘Was she asking what I think she was asking?’ ‘Probably, darling. Dear Debs once told me she had shagged the entire committee, including the women. Rumour is that she wore poor old George out within a fortnight of meeting him. Insatiable, so they say.’ ‘Weren’t you on ...

... the committee?’ She grinned but gave no reply, partly because the music had started and partly because, I suspect, she liked to keep me guessing. Scottish dancing is a sort of combat really. It all looks lovely, but with feet and arms flying one is at great risk of serious injury. It isn’t made easier with one arm in a sling. I did my best. Vicky was careful not to do me any harm and after a couple of dances she led me past the table and out of the hall into a side room, where she kissed me. She tasted of whisky, good whisky. The room was almost in darkness, the sole illumination being a log fire but I could vaguely make out heavy curtains, a couple of wide leather armchairs and a sofa. Vicky has an amazing capacity for drink. I do not and so had been taking it easy. She unpinned the sash and used it to pull me to her. I could feel the brass buttons of her jacket and the brush of her lips. I opened my mouth to her. She released the sash and ran her hands over my breasts through the silk of my dress. She bent to lick my chin and down my neck. I slid my arm from its sling and put both arms around her neck. Her hands roamed over my back, raking the bare skin above the low backed dress. I sucked her tongue into my mouth. ‘I wondered where you two had got to.’ Debra startled me. She stood just in the doorway, holding a glass of amber liquid. ‘Just checking her medical condition,’ said Vicky with a smile. ‘Yes, I saw. Seems perfectly fine to me, darling.’ She walked to us and stood ...