Horse and Ruth - Sex Stories

Horse and Ruth

... really seem bothered in the answer after all. They spend the rest of the afternoon calling me ‘noble steed’ and riding me round the gardens. Ruth grips her legs tight about my waist. Her dress is so thin I can feel the heat in her thighs and the rub of her on my back. She huffs and puffs in my ear as if it’s her doing the hefting! I drop her by Lizzie, sitting on the thick wall to the fountain, but she climbs over the edge and sits in the water with a huge sing-song sigh. "That's better" she says and Lizzie joins her, paddling at first but they soon start splashing. I plod off to get towels. They’re shivering when I get back and I avert my eye from stiff nipples as I wrap each one up. Lizzie, with a wriggle and four splats, makes a pile of her clothes. She’s in the buff under her towel and thinks this is hilarious. I sense I’m being teased again but Ruth goes one further. Two splats, dress and panties, and she leans into me. Butting her forehead on my chest. "Dry me" she says. I rub her shoulders and back, but she twists in my arms until I’m rubbing the towel in fluffy circles on her breasts and stomach. Her head lolls. "Ruth..." Says Lizzie, spreading her clothes flat on the hot stone. Ruth leans her bottom against my hips and squirms. I am powerfully hard. "You’re making me wetter," she whispers. Just to me. Not even teasing. "Then I’m no help." I say and leave her be. I pick up her wet clothes and lay them out in the sun. Lizzie takes Ruth's hand and they teeter their way ...

... across the gravel back into the house. I pick up Ruth's panties and put them in my pocket. I don't know why. Never stolen anything. Don't even know what I'll do with them. # A little while later, I have a ladder up on the house to get to the roof. When I climb past Ruth’s open window – her curtains are closed , I am stopped by the sound of a struggle inside, then a muffled scream. Worried, I listen hard, but then Ruth giggles so I carry on my way. Maybe an hour on, I climb down past the same window and a cheeky breeze catches the curtain. Inside the women are sleeping, naked, curled head-to-toe like kittens. # The Reverend has arrived home early and he brings arguments with him. He must have walked in on the girls, because his high-pitched voice screeches out of Ruth’s window. “It is unholy! UNHOLY!” I rush up to the room with the girl's clothes, guessing Lizzie will want to get out quick. The girls seem relieved to see me, cowering on the bed under a sheet. I put a calming hand on the Rev’s shoulders. He lets me lead him away. He is trembling and hot even through his thick cassock. He mutters to me all the way down to his study. “It is unholy, Horse, women together, men together, it is not what the good Lord designed.” I don’t agree, of course. Each to their own. But I am sad. A few minutes later, Lizzie bowls out of the house, all but running. I offer her a lift back to town. She shakes her head and pats my cheek. “You’re a good man, Horse. You need to take the initiative ...