THE PONY WIVES – Chapter 3
Howard Chapman finished building two highballs, then carried them out of the kitchen
into the living room, his terry cloth robe flapping open loosely as he walked. He set the
drinks on the low coffee table, then picked up the stack of mail his wife had placed
there earlier, and sat down on the sofa.
He thumbed through the envelopes and brochures, dropping several onto his lap as he
sorted, then put the remainder back on the table beside his wife’s drink as he picked up
his own for a quick sip. He had checked all but one envelope when she came in to join
him, freshly showered and wearing a short summer robe that was little more than a
jacket.
"My God, Jan!" he said, staring at the warm color of her exposed thighs and licking his
lips hungrily. "I hope you haven’t got anything on the stove that’s liable to burn or boil
over. I’m not going to let you get away from me for quite a while!"
He tossed the unopened envelope onto the table by his drink, then reached out and
grabbed her gently in back of her thighs, sliding his hands upward to cup her
asscheeks, and pulled her toward him. She wet her lips hastily, expecting him to pull
her down onto his lap for a kiss, but he slid her robe aside by using the top of his head
as a third hand.
As the fabric was pinned between his head and her smooth, flat belly, he could look
down on the glistening blonde curls of her full, rounded mound below. He nosed down
into the golden forest, inhaling the faint fragrance of her after-bath scent.
"Mm-m-m-m!" He hummed his pleasure as his lips neared the crest of the mound. His
tongue-tip snaked into the narrow slit that had begun to open as her cuntlips swelled in
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passionate response to him.
He licked around the inside edges of the parting lips, following the contours of the
fleshy ellipse slowly, as if painting them with utmost care. He tantalized her by
skipping over the rising button of her clitoris, choosing instead to trace his elliptical
pattern further inward. The tongue-tip gently tattooed the sensitive flesh around her
cunt, then the engorged inner lips that guarded the entrance to her vagina.
"I th-think… something just might… boil over," Jan said in a hoarse whisper as he
licked out of the vaginal entrance and made a successful upward stab at her rigid
button. "But not on the… stove, Howie! Oh, God, baby! The way you eat my pussy!"
She had to give up trying to talk as gasps and moans kept her throat busy reacting to
the delicious thrills he was stirring inside her.
She leaned toward him, bending over from the waist, and he was forced to pull her
down onto the sofa with a twisting motion that rolled her ass onto the cushion beside
him. He seized her legs from his lap and raised them, pushing them toward her. She
drew her knees up and gave him access to her entire crotch.
He placed his hands against her inner thighs and let them slip downward over the satin
of her skin as he eyed the widely parted halves of the moist, swelling cunt.
"Jan, honey… if a cunt can be more beautiful than this… I don’t think I could stand to
look at it!" He groaned as he dipped his head between her legs, pressing his lips to the
outer edges of her wet cunt. His tongue flattened against the warm moistness, the tip
barely entering her cave, then licked upward until it contacted her outthrust clit.
"Howie!" she shrieked happily. "Oh, Howie… grab it and suck it, Daddy!" He slid his
lips over the tiny projection, letting its tip rest against his tongue, and drew greedily at
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the succulent morsel until the suction was firmly established around it.
Jan whimpered as her ass began to lift from the cushion in response. Her pelvis hinged
upward as she shoved her cunt into the delightful vacuum. Shudders rippled over her
belly and her whimpers slurred into moans as the sensations grew too intense to
contain.
"Oh, darling!" she cried as her ass rose several inches above the cushion. Her thighs
clamped tightly and convulsions shook her fiercely. Howard thrust his tongue into her
cave and circled the entrance with his lips, then sucked powerfully at the spasming
tunnel.
Jan’s body writhed and bucked briefly, then went limp. When she fell to the sofa,
Howard pried her thighs apart and extricated his head. He gulped in air, licked her
honey from his lips, and stared at the engorged flesh of her cunt as it squeezed out in a
swollen pucker from the pressure of her thighs. Just below it, her tiny anus was winking
with the slow reactions to her measured pulsing.
Howard shrugged off his robe, letting it fall to the sofa, and took his throbbing cock in
his hand. He slid the skin back and forth over the shaft, squeezing a tiny drop of
translucent wetness from the tip.
"I’m so loaded I’m starting to leak!" he groaned. "Where do you want it, Jan!"
"My cunny can’t stand it yet, Howie!" she told him. "Come feed me, darling!"
He got up and moved around to the end of the sofa near her head. She scooted herself
into position and grasped the hard shaft from his fingers, pulling it into her eager lips.
Rolling and nodding her head as if she wanted the rubbery knob to massage every part
of her mouth and throat, she made it fuck into her head wetly.
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Saliva flowed as her greedy excitement intensified, and she started to suck as she
nodded, drawing at his tubes with compelling force. Howard grunted at the potency of
her vacuum and began to weave from one side to the other, his knees starting to
weaken.
His balls swung against his thighs, then tightened and rose up into his crotch. He was
groaning steadily with the countless thrills rippling through him. Then they all merged
together in a single voluptuous wave that tore into his groin and exploded.
His fingers were clawing into Jan’s blonde tresses, massaging her head frantically as he
erupted. She held her suction while he gushed his load, swallowing avidly until he was
drained. Her final licking and vacuuming made him grunt with ecstatic pain, and he
pulled away from her greedy mouth.
Jan had recovered enough from her. own convulsive release to make room on the sofa
for him, and as he sat heavily beside her, exhaling a long groan of pleasure, she giggled
softly.
"You like to feed me, don’t you, Howie?" she asked, nestling into the sofa as she
cupped a soothing hand over the tenderized mound of her cunt.
"Almost as much as I like to eat you," he replied. "I’m always glad while you’re sucking
on me, but after you’ve brought me off I wish I’d saved it to screw you."
"You mean you don’t like my mouth as well as my pussy?" she pouted.
"That’s something that varies from time to time," he told her, reaching out and
fingering her lower lip until she stopped pouting and giggled again. "I think part of it’s
due to my having to stop eating you before I get enough. I want to get into your cunny
as far as I can, and eat as much of you as I can for as long as I can. When you come,
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and I have to quit, then I’m eager to finish with my cock what I started with my mouth.
At least I think that’s part of the motivation. Say, you haven’t gone through your mail."
"From here, it looks as if my male’s been ‘gone through’ by someone… or something!"
she told him.
"Smartass!" he said, grinning. ‘Take care of your mail on the coffee table. Your male on
the sofa has had it… for a while!"
Jan picked up her drink, took a hearty swallow before setting it down, and started
looking through her mail. Howard remembered the envelope he had not opened,
picked it up, and studied the PERSONAL imprint. When he had fingered the flap open
untidily, tearing the envelope across in the process, he pulled out a folded brochure
with the word SWAP in large letters at one end.
Unfolding it, he saw the preceding words D’YOU WANNA on the other side of the
crease. He held the message out to Jan.
"D’you wanna swap?" he asked. Jan’s eyes were focused on the note in her hand, and
she did not look up.
"With this couple, I just might be tempted!" she said. After another few seconds, she
looked up from the page of neat, feminine handwriting and glanced at her husband.
"Annette and Ron want us to spend the weekend with them. Now, there’s a man I
could think about sexually… for a one-time lark, perhaps."
Then she saw the brochure in front of her, read enough of the text under the heading
to see that it was a genuine swap club’s publication, and blushed prettily. She had been
teasing, thinking that Howard’s question related to something else. Now she felt a
guilty kind of embarrassment as she realized that her reply must have sounded as if she
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were jumping at the chance to swap. She was afraid Howard might take it as
dissatisfaction with his lovemaking.
"He’s some hunk of man, all right," Howard conceded, trying to ease her
embarrassment. "And I can’t say that Annette leaves me exactly cold, either. She has
that exotic quality most brunettes wish they could have, but can’t. Yeah-h-h… too bad
the Lansings aren’t swappers."
Jan slowly lowered the invitation to her lap as her violet-blue eyes acquired a distant
look. Her blush had almost faded as Howard assuaged her embarrassment. Now she
was allowing herself the luxury of daydreaming a little, knowing her husband would
not take offense at her interest in the subject.
"You know, Howie… we can’t be sure that they’re not!" She was recalling the many
frank looks of appraisal she had intercepted from Ron when he thought she was not
aware of his scrutiny. And more than once, Annette had made some admiring
observation or other with regard to Howard’s charm.
"From what Ron’s said about that ranch, Jan, I would guess that the Lansings are pretty
well tied down there. Not much chance of running around the countryside for fun, with
all that responsibility."
"I suppose you’re right. But wouldn’t that place be ideal for… oh, sort of… peeling to
the buff and just running wild and… doing what comes naturally?" There seemed to be
a brighter violet cast to her eyes as Howard met her sparkling glance, and a strange
thrill stirred in his chest and belly as he sensed that he had caught a glimpse of his
wife’s hidden side.
"We’re thinking seriously about this swap thing, aren’t we?" he asked, his face
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registering both surprise and pleasure. His words were a momentary shock to Jan, and
her eyes widened a bit, but she lost none of the animated sparkle which had intrigued
him.
"We… we seem to be… don’t we?" she countered. "But then… we’ve always known…
both of us… that we’re very sexual individuals. So it shouldn’t come as too much of a
shock to us – the thought that we’re capable of being stimulated by others. Should it?"
"It shouldn’t," he agreed. "But for some reason, the fact that we are thinking about it
seriously is a little startling." He chuckled softly. "I’ll bet Ron and Annette would be
startled, too, if they knew how we were thinking of them at this moment. Can you
imagine their reaction?"
"That’s what bothers me, Howie. I’m getting kind of worked up, thinking about the
possibility. I have a sort of intuitive feeling about it. Ron’s eyes have been eating me up
almost since the first time I met him, and remembering how it felt… well, I’m sort of…
getting hot all over again! Do you think I’m awful, Howie?"
"No, I don’t think you’re awful. You’ll notice that this thing in my lap is not exactly
limp right now, despite what you did to it. I’ve been thinking about bending Annette
over one of their rustic fences and…"
"Oh-h-h, Howie!" Jan moaned, pressing her hand to her crotch. "Quit talking like that!
It’s getting me too excited. You, too; look at that hard-on, you dirty old man!"
"Yeah, we have to stop this. We’re getting ourselves all stirred up, and then we’ll be
disappointed when we get there and it turns out to be just another visit to the Lansing
ranch. We are accepting the invitation, I suppose?"
"Yes! Oh, definitely yes, Howie. Now I’ve just got to see if maybe something exciting
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happens there!"
"Don’t get your hopes up, honey. Things seldom work out that smoothly. I’m afraid
that, if we really get hot on this swapping idea, we’re going to have to go through one
of these clubs." He waved the brochure at her, then dropped it on the coffee table.
"Have you even stopped to think about how one ‘feels out’ another couple on the
swapping subject? I mean… hell, Jan! You can’t just sit at the dinner table and say,
‘What do you think about switching partners for the weekend? Pass the salt, please.’ Or
do you have more brass than I thought?"
"Of course not, Howie. But there are ways. Women can find out such things easier than
men, I think. Even if Ron does spend a lot of time getting those little toy horses of
theirs to fuck, he might be bashful when it comes to talking about people doing it. But
I’ll bet I can ‘feel out’ Annette, as you put it."
"Lots of luck, honey," he replied, grinning. "But don’t set your hopes too high. Hell,
Ron may be the sort who’s even embarrassed to watch his breeding stock in action. The
thought of swapping may shock both of them, so take it easy."
***
Ron stood just outside Snapfire’s stall, watching her switch her diminutive tail
petulantly as she whinnied in low tones. He could see the vaginal ooze dripping from
the filly’s cunt each time her tail moved away from its center position. There was no
doubt about the fact she was in heat!
He spoke to the restless little filly in low, soothing tones that matched the pitch of her
whinny. He put his hand on her croup and stroked the top of her tail at its base. She
sidestepped once, whinnying more nervously than before, and her tail switched at a
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higher rate of speed.
"Easy, Snapfire," he said, continuing to stroke her rump and reassure her. He had been
making friendly overtures to her for a week or more, and she had shown more affection
than any of the tiny fillies had previously displayed. She had even followed him around
the large corral like a faithful hound or a curious cat, watching him at his chores. He
had spoken to her all the while, getting her accustomed to his voice so she would
associate it with the occasional kind pats and lumps of sugar and tender young carrots
he gave her.
Ron slowly slid his fingers under the moving tail, past the tight wrinkles of her anus,
and massaged her swollen vulva, keeping up his soothing talk all the while. Snapfire
looked back over her withers at him, eyes wide and rolling, showing the whites.
But he kept up his patter, continued the massage, and finally slid his fingers into the
soupy center of her entrance. The flesh seemed to swell and blossom outward to his
touch, but she whinnied still more loudly now, and sidestepped again. His hand lost its
place, and he had to talk her through the same procedure again.
"Now, now, girl…" old Ron’s trying to make you feel better. Just stand easy and enjoy
it… attagirl… now, don’t those fingers feel good on that swollen pussy of yours, huh?"
This time she did not sidestep, though she looked back at him briefly, then tossed her
head two or three times. Ron got two fingers partly inserted in her cunt and she
repositioned her hind legs as if bracing herself to accept the weight of a stallion.
She’s more ready than I thought! What the hell do I do, now? Boy, is that a juicy, hot-
to-fuck cunt! I wonder if she’s liable to let go with those rear hooves about the time I
try to get into her? I’m ready to stick her; that’s for sure! Maybe if I can stand with my
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legs far enough apart, she won’t do much damage if she does kick…
He was almost as excited as the little filly, fumbling one-handedly to drop his pants and
shorts while trying to keep his fingers in her. He was wearing sandals instead of boots,
so he was able to kick loose from the garments when they fell around his ankles.
"Now, Snapfire, old girl… Daddy Ron’s gonna swap tools… give you something better
than those fingers-easy, now!" She had not shifted her stance, but a muscular ripple had
shuddered back over her rump as he leaned in toward her, guiding his cock into the
spot where his fingers were stirring her frothy brew.
Her flesh was so much warmer than he anticipated, that he almost let out a groan that
would have startled her. But he checked his sound by tightening his throat, and pushed
the pulsing knob of his prick into her as he withdrew his fingers.
The steamy opening closed over him wetly, almost hotly and seemed to suck him
onward. He eased into her all the way, his balls snuggled into the dripping flesh of her
vulva.
"Oh, Snapfire… what a Turkish bath you have in there!" Ron felt as if he were being
clasped by two pieces of heated liver. But the vibrant shivering of the sheath convinced
him that whatever had him in its grasp was very much alive. He began to stroke into
the clinging warmth, and the filly whinnied softly as he fucked.
As he became aware of the fact that Snapfire was enjoying what he was doing to her, he
got involved in the sensations even more. She liked the hard, driving strokes he was
using, for Ron had seen Jock’s technique and was trying to emulate it as best he could.
If he could convince her that the two-legged creatures provided the same joy, or a
reasonable facsimile, she might be willing to play for the party crowd!
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"My God, little filly!" he said softly, but with more than a little surprise. "You’re an
exciting fuck!" Her tunnel was hotly clasping and unclasping around his moving shaft,
and thrills built rapidly in his groin until he had to give up his load.
He shot volley after volley into her depths, groaning at the intensity of the voluptuous
sensations that triggered him, until he was emptied. Snapfire whinnied again, her rump
muscles shivered, and Ron withdrew just before she sidestepped, leaning her right
buttock against the side of her stall.
His belly and hip were red from the twitching pressure of her tail, with its incredibly
tough, long hairs. He backed up across the aisle and leaned against Little Girl’s stall
until his knees stopped trembling.
Snapfire’s tail, unrestrained now, was switching back and forth in a more normal,
serene manner than when he had first entered the barn. And she was breathing hard,
but without any accompanying whinny. He could see a tiny trail of white come
dripping from her cunt as he picked up his clothes and headed for the bath.
After he was under the shower, he wondered if he should have patted the filly’s rump
and praised her, perhaps even given her a reward – a carrot or something.
But he hated that kind of thinking immediately. It might be the right technique for the
Lamberts’ party dogs, but it was not the way to train Snapfire. The filly liked being
fucked, and if she got satisfaction from the encounter, she was likely to welcome the
next one. Sugar cubes and vegetables would not control her permissiveness; a satisfying
fuck just might.
When he had dressed and come out into the stable area, he went to Snapfire’s stall and
unfastened the swiveled snap of her manger rope from the ring in her halter. She
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followed him to the south door and out into the small breeding corral.
Ron walked to the southwest corner, where the fence met the wall of the nearby
granary, and peered around the structure at the horizon. The sun was low in the sky,
and he looked at his watch, conscious that Annette had not yet returned from her
shopping trip.
As he stood there, he felt a softness nuzzling into his ribs. He lifted his arm and
Snapfire’s nose slid past his shirt and came to rest on his thigh briefly. He chuckled and
put his arm around the filly’s head. She whinnied quietly, let him pat her neck for a
while, then raised her head as she heard a sound in the distance.
Ron turned away from the fence and watched her as she lifted her head higher, craned
her neck to the north, and stiffened her ears forward. Then she shook her head from
side to side and trotted back into the barn.
When he followed her inside, she was once more in her stall. He had filled the mangers
earlier, and she was starting to munch on the hay, seemingly quite relaxed. He snapped
her halter lead in place, patted her affectionately, and went back out to open the gate
that led from the small breeding corral into the pasture. The rest of the stock were
headed for the barn, so he whistled at them, and the fillies and mares picked up speed
as they headed toward him.
He got them all secured in their stalls, then let the last of his charges through the south
door, where they had been waiting, tired of their segregated pasture. Jock and Capscrew
went right into their stalls and were tied up. Young Lonigan trotted up the aisle, visiting
the girls, and Ron had to corner him and lead him to his stall with a few words of
rebuke.
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Annette was driving into the yard as he left the barn, and he helped her carry her
purchases into the house. The moment she stopped to catch her breath, she could tell
by Ron’s expression that he was keeping some kind of news from her.
"From that grin," she guessed wildly, "I’d say that either you’ve been elected president
of the breeders’ association, or you have an early evening hard-on."
"It’s a grin of accomplishment, all right; but not because I’ve been elected to office. And
don’t plan on that hard-on, either. I just used it up… on Snapfire. Anne… I think she’s
going to be a howling success!"
She studied him for a moment, then smiled broadly as she began to shrug off her
jacket. He trailed after as she walked to the bedroom.
"That settled it," she said. "I’m starting on Cappie tomorrow!"
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