Pony

“Pride.”

“Hmm?” He did not look up from his perusal of an old copy of National Geographic.

“Pride, look at me.” Salene’s voice was much more insistent.

“Yes, dear?” He closed the magazine, a finger inside to hold his place.

“I miss Apollo.”

He screwed up his face in confusion. “Your horse?”

She licked her crimson lips, walked over to him, pulled the magazine from his hands and flung it across the room, then straddled his lap. “Yes, my horse. It’s been ages since I’ve had a good hard ride; what are you going to do to fix that?”

He gulped, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, but then his natural confidence asserted itself and he grinned. “I could go find Apollo for you?” He asked, knowing that was not what she wanted. At the same time, he played his long fingers along her thighs, letting her know he knew exactly what is was she did want.

She moaned, closing her eyes, riding the gentle shudders that ran up and down her spine. Leaning forward, she whispered to him. “You know I don’t that, but I see that you want to play.” Arching her back, she ground her hips against him. He gasped, slapping her on each buttock.

Salene laughed throatily. “Spanking? I like it; but maybe another time. Right now your hands could be put to better use.” She placed one squarely over her left breast while squeezing the other hand over her right cheek.

He slipped one hand into her top, while rubbing circles on her a.ss with other. “Did you mean something like this?” He raised an eyebrow at her.

“For a start, but what else have you got?”

Pride did not answer, grabbing on to her hips and standing with her. “Ooph!” she uttered, gripping his shoulders. He walked over to the bed, dropping Salene. Unfortunately or maybe fortunately, for him, she held on to his shoulders, pulling him down on top of her.

“Mmm,” she murmured, when he braced his arms on either side of her head, raising his upper body, pressing his lower body harder into hers, letting her know just how happy he was to be there. She braced her legs on the floor, circling against him until he pressed down firmly enough that she could not move.

“Stop that, or the fun will be over before it has even started,” he admonished, then smiled at her to soften his words, dropping his head to within centimeters of hers. His breath blew hotly into her mouth and she raised her head, joining them.

She nibbled at his lips, biting down on the lower until he grunted at the pain. She licked over the sore spot, then trailed her lips to the corner of his mouth, over his jaw, to the spot she knew to be so sensitive, just behind his ear, where his jaw ended. She bit gently on the tender flesh, little biting kisses that she soothed with a lazy lap of her tongue. She smiled against his skin when she felt a fine tremor run through his entire body and down his arms, which were straining to hold his weight. She slid her hands up from their place against his lower back, just grazing his back through his shirt, enjoying his reaction to her touch.

So caught up was he that he didn’t notice immediately when her hands had reached his shoulders and could only grunt out a surprised “Uh!” when Salene pushed on his shoulders, sending him over onto his back. She pressed her advantage, again straddling his hips as she leaned forward to circle her tongue around his ear.

Moist heat enveloped his ear as she played with it. Unable to take her gentle torture any more, and wanting to get some of his own back, he gripped her hips, lifting her up and then back down onto his crotch, thrusting up at the same time. She moaned, then grasped his nipples with both hands, twisting until he let her go.

“Hands off; or should I say hooves off. You’re my pony. I ride you. If you misbehave, I punish you. If you are very, very good, well I reward you too. Get me?” She twisted again and he yelled out. “Shh, not so loud; someone might hear you and come investigate…and ruin all my fun. You wouldn’t want to ruin my fun, would you, hun?” Muffled whimpers as she twirled the little nubbins between her thumbs and index fingers.

“That’s better. Now that you know the rules, the fun can begin.” She released his nipples, to the accompaniment of a drawn out sigh from him, followed by a gasp as she drew her hands together at his neck, grabbed his lapels and ripped his shirt open. She sat back to admire the well-formed flesh revealed: the well-defined pectorals, the ridged stomach and six-pack abs—all in all a more than satisfactory package. She licked her lips in anticipation. This was going to be fun.

Oh this was Hell.

Pride grit his teeth as Salene shifted herself over his crotch yet again. He could feel the dampness on his forehead as he fought not to lift his hands. He clawed the sheets, holding on tightly, needing something to keep his hands busy. Oh God. Her low husky laugh had caused her entire body to shake, even there: the part of her so intimately connected to him. He could feel her moist heat through her pants and his. He wanted in so badly he could taste it.

Then she was tasting him. Long slow laps of her tongue, leaving damp tracks along his neck, across his collarbone and oh so close to his still tender nipple. So close, closer, closer and gone. “Arrggh!” He unconsciously bent his knees, lifting his lower body of the bed, almost unseating Sal.

Oh no.

“So my little pony wants to be a bucking bronco? We’ll just see about that.”

His breath hissed out as his chest caught on fire. She had scraped her long red nails from his collarbone to his pants and he knew if he looked, he would see raised red lines down his torso, souvenirs of this night. He lowered his legs, laying flat on the bed. He could be good. He would behave.

Slurrrrp.

Oh crap, he wasn’t going to make it.

Salene smeared chocolate syrup over the welts, licking up the lines in long strokes of her tongue. Normally, his torso was a highly sensitized, extremely ticklish area, but right now it was still highly sensitized, almost painfully so, and the last thing on his mind was laughing.

He bit down on his lip, his face a mask of untold agony as she poured more chocolate on him, the liquid cool against his nipple. His eyes closed, just too heavy for him to keep open when she enveloped the little button in the hot, moist recesses of her mouth. It was sensory overload, the cool and the hot, the pleasure and the pain as she bit down, her sharp teeth drawing a moan from him. She gave the same attention to his other nipple until he was a writhing mass of taut muscle, riding the sensory knife-edge between pleasure and pain.

“Agghhh!” Head driven back into the pillow, he sighed his frustration.

Sal sat up, releasing her hold on his left nipple. Her lips were moist and swollen, her mouth slightly open, her breath slightly deeper than normal and her eyes were glazed over. Her flaming-bright hair stuck up in odd angles, her ‘do having been ravaged by his wondering fingers.

She was a tousled mess and she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

And she wasn’t down with him yet. She smiled slowly, the corners of her lips curling up towards her eyes in a move similar to the Cheshire Cat of yore. Splaying her hands on his abs, flexing them against their involuntary responses, she pushed her center lower on his body, wriggling just a bit as she settled herself on his thighs.

Lower her hands trailed, stopping at his belt buckle, making quick work of the buckle and the top button. She ran one finger down the length of his zipper, licking her lips when he jerked in response to her touch. She grinned triumphantly down at him, grasping the handle, drawing it down slowly, revealing Pride’s all-natural preferences when it came to underwear…or lack thereof. She slipped a warm hand inside his open pants, circling his impressive length, drawing fingers from the base to the weeping tip.

His hips raised off the bed again, his body bowing so that only his heels and shoulders remained touching the mattress. Sal was lifted onto her knees and she braced her free hand against the bed to keep her position over him. He settled back down and she shifted on top of him.

“Whoa there, Big Boy.”

She ground her hips against his thighs in a circular motion, doing the same with her hands on him, twisting her wrist up and down, from the dark-furred base to the red, swollen, seeping tip, covering him in his own fluids. She stopped for a moment, her hand at the base, just holding him and squeezing, watching as a milky drop clung at the top, just this side of spilling over, but holding on. Then just as it began to drip, she swooped down, swirling her tongue over the head, scooping up the pearlescent drop.

His head exploded. He was a mindless, ruthless, needful, thing.

His hands released the sheets they had been twisting, grabbing her and lifting her off his body. In a motion almost too quick to follow, he had reversed their positions, he straddling her. His hands pinning hers to the mattress. He raised her hands over her head, switching to a one-handed grip so that his free hand could move down her body. He lightly brushed her breasts through her top, but the fire consuming his body would not allow him to be tender, gentle.

He yanked the zipper of her bustier down, shoving the sides open, roughly brushing her thrusting nipples, eliciting an involuntary gasp from her. He bent forward, his mouth suckling her left breast through the crimson mesh top. As her head thrashed and her moans soared, he shifted his attention to her right breast and then onto her belly button, spearing his tongue into the shallow indentation. He felt the quivering of her stomach muscles and it was like fuel to the fire.

Releasing her hands, he turned his attention to her waist. He pulled down her short black skirt, throwing it over his shoulder. He unbuttoned her leather pants, lifting one leg so that he was on his knees beside her legs, and pulled them off her in one motion, and threw those too over his shoulder. They landed in a turned-out sprawl half-on, half-off the desk.

He looked down at her, as mindless in her passion as he was in his, her nipples pressed so deliciously against the red material, looking like ripe cherries ready for the plucking. The minuscule black bikini panties, showing her squirming legs to their best advantage. All in all she was the perfect picture of sensual womanhood, and she was his.

He slipped his hands into the waistband of the tiny underwear, drawing them down her legs and throwing them to the side. He pushed her legs wide, kneeling in between them and she lifted them high on his sides, pulling him forward as she wrapped them around him.

He positioned himself, ready to slide home when she called out, “Wait, stop.”

He stopped. He was so tempted to go forward, to ignore her. He was so close, he could feel her moist heat radiating out onto him. His body quivered with the effort it took just to not move. Gritting his teeth, he pulled back, pressing against her crossed ankles at his back.

“Pride, where are you going?” She whispered huskily.

“You—you told me to stop.”

She laughed. “Yeah, but I didn’t tell you that you could go anywhere.”

He froze. What was her game?

She eyed his deer-in-headlights expression and terrified rabbit body quiver and laughed again, low and throatily. She unwrapped her ankles and pushed on his shoulders. She sat up, pushing him until he was flat on his back. She straddled him slowly, brushing his thighs with hers as she lowered herself inch by agonizing inch onto him, sighing when she he was in her to the hilt.

She leaned forward, whispering to him, “You are my pony and I am the only one having a ride.”

She began moving on him, slow deep strokes, raising herself high and lowering again, building the tension, reveling in it. But it wasn’t enough. She didn’t want to cante;, she wanted to gallop. Faster she went, losing her smooth rhythm, needing only the sweet friction, occasionally losing him as she rode to a pace only she could hear. After the third time, he gripped her hips, setting a new pace. As she drove down, he thrust up, giving them what they both needed. The flame joining them burned hotter and hotter until it consumed them both and they collapsed in a boneless heap.

Chests heaving, flesh sweat-soaked and clinging to each other, they rolled to their sides. Exhaustion chased them, pulling them down into slumber.

“Sal?” Pride whispered.

“Hmm?” she responded drowsily.

“Still missing Apollo?”

“Who?” She blinked slowly at him.

“Never mind. Just sleep.”