The attached work of fiction is intended to be entertainment for adults in
locations in which it is legal.  If it is illegal in your location, DO NOT read. 
This is a copyrighted work.  Reposting or any other use strictly prohibited
without the express, written permission of the copyright holder, except may
by posted as part of a  review or posted to free-access, non-commercial
archive sights.

Copyright 1998, 1999 by E. Z. Riter.

E-mail address: ezriter@hotmail.com     

Please!        Give me your comments!



LITTLE FILLY

Friday night is bar night for us single yuppies, and, I was out trolling, as
usual.  Mostly, I go home alone but sometimes I let a man pick me up. 
This Friday, I was working my way through the crowd, stopping to talk to
everyone there. The men all looked the same in their tight pants and
lacquered hair, the yuppie crowd on the prowl.  

Then, I saw him sitting alone at the end of the bar.  

He was unique in this urban setting of twenties and thirties.  I guess he was
about fifty.   His face was heavily tanned like leather from the sun which
emphasized his sky blue eyes. He wore a long sleeved western-style work
shirt and a straw cowboy hat pitched back on his head. He was drinking a
beer with his whole hand wrapped around the bottle's long-neck.  His eyes
watched lazily, seeing the crowd as if he were watching a herd of cattle
from horse back.  

Suddenly, his blue eyes were piercing me and he smiled slowly, showing
white teeth that sparkled against the dark face.  He tipped his hat. I looked
away but, subconsciously, worked my way to him.  He stood when I
approached and took off the hat, showing longish black hair streaked with
gray.   Of course, he was wearing boots and jeans.  The jeans were skin
tight and his legs were thick, heavily muscled, like the rest of him.   

"Hi, Cowboy," I said gaily.  

"Good evening, ma'am," he replied in a drawl. He offered me the stool and
I sat, allowing him to buy me another drink. 

"Well, cowboy, what brings you to this watering hole?" I asked, trying to
be cute but sounding a little brittle.    

"I'm not really a cowboy," he said slowly.  "I'm a horseman, raising and
training horses.  I came to town to find a new mare."  My heart was
pounding as I studied his face. He has just a light twinkle in his eyes as if
teasing me and trying not to show it.   

"I love horses," I told him.  

"Doesn't surprise me.  Horses are beautiful and sensual creatures," he
replied.   The horseman and I talked.  He was very close to me so we
would not shout to overcome the din.  He smelled of leather and, well, dirt,
an earthy, masculine smell.  He did not paw me as men try to do in bars.
When he finally touched me, he rested his hand on my thigh.  It felt warm
and natural there.   

Finally, he said, "Let's go out to my ranch."  

Ah, the come on line.  I have heard a million but it is always interesting to
hear another.   And, the answer often determines if I spend the night with a
guy or let him drop.  

"What do you have in mind?" I asked.  

"You are beautiful little filly," he answered, "I want to exercise you a little
and then put you in the stall with my stallion so he can mount you."  

Holy smokes!  The vision of me being a mare mounted by a stallion made
me reel and I got wet.  I was almost dizzy.  The horseman was watching
me with a hint of a smile, enjoying my response.   

"Okay," I croaked and downed my drink for courage.

He drove a working pickup several years old, not a dude truck as I
expected.  The windows were down and the wind blew my hair.  His
"ranch" was really a few acres outside of town with a small barn, corral
and open area.  I put on some sneakers he offered. Although they were too
large, they were better than high heels.  He quickly showed me around.   

There were two horses in the barn, a mare and, yes, a stallion.  The stallion
was a big red horse with a star on his nose.  He whinnied when he saw us. 
The horseman pulled some sugar from his jeans which the stallion nuzzled
from his hand.  

"Is that the stallion that is going to mount me?" I giggled in a high, squeaky
voice.  

"Only stallion I've got," he replied evenly.  As he dragged me away, I could 
not take my eyes off the giant beast. 

He stopped at the tack room and got a bridle and bit.  It seemed much too
small for the horses and the bit was leather, not steel.  We walked to the
middle of the corral.  It was relatively dark but the stars were shining so I
could see him as he began unbuttoning my blouse.  

"What are you doing?" I asked.  

"Horses don't wear clothes," he replied.  If this man did not have a devilish
glint in his eyes, I would swear he was being honest because his voice was
unemotional.  I waited impatiently while he removed all my clothes but the
sneakers and panties. His hands never left me. When he put his thumbs in
the panties, I pulled away.

"Whoa, girl," he said.  "Easy now."  

He stroked my face and I felt his palm over my mouth.  It was a sugar
cube!  I... well, I nuzzled his palm and took the cube in my lips. His hands
were actively stroking my back and flank, gently pulling on my mane,
calming me as he would a horse. How can a man's hands both calm and
excite at the same time?  

"Whoa, little filly," he crooned and again offered his palm. When I took
the cube this time I felt leather slip into my mouth. In one movement, the
bridle was over my head and the bit secure between my teeth.  I saw him
grin broadly when I stomped my foot as a horse would. As I was mouthing
the soft leather bit, he pulled down my panties.  I was naked before I
realized it.   And, his hands were again actively stroking me but in a way I
am sure he did not stroke a horse.  This little filly was getting very hot from
his hands.    

I can not explain it but when I bit down on the bit, I became a horse, his
horse.   I made no attempt to get the bit out of my mouth or the bridle off
my head like a human. I tried to spit it out like a horse would. My hands
hung limp as if they were not there.  

He started guiding me around the ring by the bridle, the way he would
exercise a horse.  I started walking and then trotting.  I could see the
stallion in the barn, his huge red head sticking out of the open stall door.  It
was as if he was watching me, knowing the horseman was getting me ready
for him.  

It was wild! My breasts bounced and the cool night air enveloped me. But
soon I was I sweating from exertion, trotting in a circle around him as he
held my reins and talked to me calmly.  He had me slow and then walked
me through a few more circles.  He pulled me to him by the bridle and
rubbed my neck while giving me another sugar cube. 

He led me in the barn, to a stall.  Gently, he guided me by the bridle until I
was on all fours and the bridle tied to a ring.  "Now, little filly, keep facing
the stall wall and I will bring the stallion to you."  I was shaking all over
from the sexual tension and the exercise.   I heard the huge beast snort and
I could feel the ground move from his weight.  I tossed my head.  I could
not be still.  This filly was looking forward to the stallion mounting her. 

I heard a sound right behind me.  He bumped me with his legs and
neighed.  He lay against me, letting me feel his weight, not touching me
with his hands but resting his arms on my back.  I could feel his hardness
punching around as we worked together to let him mount me as a stallion
and mare would.  When we finally  succeeded, I felt the first spasms in my
legs and knew my orgasm would be one to remember. He was a good
stallion and I came forever. 

I was floating in after glow when my horseman removed my bit and bridle
and gently rolled me over.  He was grinning as he slipped in me like
missionaries, not horses.  The giant stallion was behind him, watching us
use his stall.  It was as though the horse was with me. 

I was too weak to stand.  My horseman, who had ridden his filly very well
indeed, carried me into the house. We bathed together in his tub. He
carried me to bed, wrapping me in his strong arms.  He mounted me again,
riding slowly and smoothly.   

I awoke to find him next to me, warm and strong.  I nuzzled him awake.   

"How does the mare tell the stallion she is ready for him?" I whispered.  

"She backs up to him and bumps against him," he replied.  It worked.  

He really lives in the city where he owns a business.  I moved in with him
shortly thereafter.  We play many games with each other but my favorite is
still when he slips the bit in my mouth before riding like the wind.

The End

Please!  Give me your comments!

E-mail address: ezriter@hotmail.com
