THE PONY WIVES – Chapter 4
Annette’s first-day seduction was a total failure. She had prepared the way, just as Ron
had done with Snapfire, by more than a week of talking and petting the little one-balled
stud. But Capscrew could not seem to regard his mistress as anything but a nice lady
with a sweet voice, gentle hands, and handouts of sugar and carrots.
They worked in the bam, with all the other stock outside in their pastures. Ron stayed
at a distance, hiding just inside the tack room doorway, so his presence would not
distract the little stud. But he wanted to be nearby, in case the feisty little beast got out
of hand and Annette needed help.
There seemed no way the lovely brunette could get her message across to the little
horse. She shoved her dark cunt-bush up to his face so he could smell her womanly
juices, but he only snorted and backed off, then trotted around the barn in puzzlement,
as if wondering why he could not be out with his buddies, looking over the dividing
fence between the pastures at the fillies and mares.
And he was very unhappy about wearing the "hoof mittens" she had made. Ron had
insisted that they be thickly padded, and they had ended up almost as clumsy as boxing
gloves, and twice as comical. From his hideout behind the tack room door, Ron was
beginning to be worried, lest the awkward mittens make Capscrew become frightened.
But Annette came up to the little horse and calmed him, and when he seemed quite
content to stand there and let her stroke his neck, she turned and bellied over onto a
bale of hay, her lovely ass raised in the air only inches from the little stud’s nose.
"Come sniff it, Cappie," she coaxed quietly, wiggling her ass enticingly and hoping that
the movement would waft her female scent to him. She certainly was creaming enough
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in her excited anticipation! Ron, from his observation post, was almost as excited.
God, Capscrew! If you don’t do something pretty quick, I’ll dash out there and fuck her
myself!
But the horse simply would not or could not understand what was expected of him.
Annette was fit to be tied by the time she knew she would have to give up for the day.
The stud was getting too nervous with all the strain of confusion, and Ron took the
protective mittens off his hooves and put him in the stall.
He had to give Annette a tranquilizer and make her lie down for a while, so she could
get unwound. While he was getting the stock inside and feeding them, he came up with
the idea they used the next day.
He had noticed that Snapfire was oozing generously, still in heat, and Young Lonigan
snorted around her until Ron caught him and put him in his stall. There was little
doubt that the cunt odors of his own kind attracted him. And the same was sure to be
true of Capscrew.
He told Annette about it when he took her a highball to pave the way for the TV
dinner he was heating in the oven. He sat on the edge of the bed beside her and they
sipped at their drinks as he rationalized the situation for her.
"I can get some of Snapfire’s juice and smear it in your cunny. When Cappie smells
that, he ought to get interested just by instinct. From there on, you may have to be
careful he doesn’t stab you to death with that cock of his!"
***
As it turned out, Annette had more of a problem with Capscrew’s mittened hooves than
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with anything else. She tried the bale of hay again, and the stud was definitely
interested, sniffing the scent of Snapfire on Annette’s cunt. But her crotch was a little
too low as he tried to get at her, and he had his padded hooves on either side of her,
atop the baled hay, as he sought the target with his rubbery red cock.
Ron saw what was wrong, from his tack room hideout, but he was reluctant to call out
to Annette, not wanting to disturb the rapport she had achieved. But she found out for
herself that she was over the wrong part of the bale; Capscrew’s hooves slid off the
slippery edges and his belly came down on her back with a thump.
It startled the stud momentarily, and he backed away. Annette took the opportunity to
move the bale around a quarter turn, so she could lean over its side instead of its end,
leaving the horse more area for a footing on either side of her. And this time she
grabbed two of the tiny saddle blankets that were folded over the nearby stall. She was
glad she had not properly stored them in the tack room after removing them from their
shipping carton. Now they gave her just enough extra height between her belly and the
hay-to hoist her crotch into range.
Capscrew seemed to sense that things were getting better, for he moved in again, sniffed
at the lifted offering, and gave out a snort in front and a fart at the rear. He put his
clumsy mittens on the hay astride Annette’s ribs, and his cock probed into her ass and
moved around, seeking a home.
She moved, too, wanting to be sure he found the right spot. Suddenly his knob slid into
her, and she moaned as the entire length of his hot rod became sheathed in her tunnel.
The diameter of his prick was slightly greater than she had previously accommodated,
and there was a definite sensation of fullness as Capscrew buried his tool in her depths.
"Oh, Cappie!" she moaned. "I’m not so sure about this, now!"
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Ron was poised behind the tack room door, ready to rush to her assistance if she had to
renege. But as the stud began to hump into her, Ron recognized the familiar sounds of
her sexual pleasure. He relaxed his tense vigil and squatted low so he could see more of
the action.
The red meat slid in and out of Annette’s cunt with startling ease, once her walls flexed
to accept it, and the excitement had her creaming sufficiently to provide all the
lubricant needed. It was an impressive sight to Ron, and he began panting with excited
involvement as the little horse’s cock fucked in and out of the now helpless woman.
He knew that he should be more concerned for her now than ever, for there was no
way she could call a halt if she discovered she could not handle all that was being
shoved at her. But Ron could only feel an awesome lust as the stud warmed to his
work. It became necessary to open the fly of his jeans to relieve the painful pressure of
his sympathetic erection.
Annette reached orgasm quickly, tried to struggle as her back wanted to arch while she
shuddered through her release, but she was so completely impaled on the darting shaft
that she could only whimper and moan and let her body writhe around it.
Then Capscrew had his moment. His fluid gushed into Annette in such quantity that
she felt she would burst. She could feel it back – pressuring out around the driving
meat and flowing over her thighs. Then she began to pass out.
Ron saw the stud backing away, saw Annette’s body being dragged backward off the
hay bale, and realized that he was too far away to stop whatever happened. But he came
out of the tack room as fast as he could, erect cock swinging from his fly, and reached
the horse just as the dangerous connection was broken.
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Annette was slumped beside the hay, only her head and one arm now lying atop the
bale.
Capscrew had carefully avoided stepping on he legs, even with his clumsy mittens, and
was standing nearby, leaning lazily against the end stall.
Ron led the little horse the length of the bam to his own stall before trying to revive
Annette. She was stirring as he returned, and he helped her up and into the bathroom.
Under the shower, she regained her strength and composure quickly, and he left to let
the little stud outside, so he could join his companions in the east pasture.
Coming back toward the bathroom, he heard a whinny from the breeding corral and
went to the south door to peer through the open upper half of the doorway. Snapfire
was still waiting there where he had penned her so he could steal her scented juices to
smear on Annette.
The little filly seemed to think they had some unfinished business, and as Ron realized
that his cock still jutted rigidly from the front of his pants, he decided to see if she
really meant to seduce him.
He let her inside and she ran right to her stall, whinnying and switching her tail past
her oozing cunt. Ron got his pants and shorts off and came up behind her slowly,
talking as before and placing his hand under the moving tail to massage her sopping-
wet vulva.
Immediately, her legs assumed the braced stance she had taken the first time, and Ron
leaned into her rear, guiding his prick right to the mark. He entered her lustily and
started stroking at the first moment his balls touched home. Snapfire whinnied as her
sheath enclosed him, her tail twitching in its captive position against his belly.
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Annette came upon the scene as she stepped from the bathroom doorway. It entranced
her, and she stared at the muscular body of her husband, bent over the rear of the little
filly, driving his cock again and again into the dripping tunnel.
She reached down and massaged her own cunt as she watched, feeling the fresh
lubricant begin to flow with her inner excitement. She knew that Ron had been
stimulated by watching her with Cappie, just as he was when he saw her fucked by
other men at swap sessions. And she was glad that he was having success with Snapfire,
although the sight now made her wish he was sticking that loaded prick in her, instead!
Ron had himself well under control, using as a deterrent his knowledge that he must
make the filly satisfied with the event if she were to become a successful "party horse"
in the future. So the session lasted long enough for all three to derive thrills from it.
When Ron finally spent his load in the clasping depths of the little creature, Annette
moaned and shoved three fingers up into her cunt as she climaxed by hand, triggered to
completion by Ron’s grunts and moans as he came.
She staggered back into the bathroom, splashed her crotch with cool water, then flaked
out on the couch Ron had installed along the north wall of the bathroom so he could
rest nearby when one of the mares was foaling.
Ron came in and showered, and while he was toweling, he walked over and looked
down on his exhausted wife. She sensed his presence and opened one eye to peer up at
him.
"Do you think you can last through whatever training period is required?" he asked.
The concerned look on his face dissolved when she grinned up at him sheepishly.
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"I think so… if we don’t have to go through a session every single day. I’d like a day
between bouts to recuperate. It’s a little bit rougher than a one-night swap session."
"I think we should have at least two days of rest each time," Ron countered. "I rather
like the idea of recuperating, myself, but I’d also like to get in a little horsing around in
the bedroom now and then."
"You mean you’re still interested in me… with a nympho filly like that Snapfire hot to
trot whenever you whistle?" Annette had both eyes squinting now, a habit characteristic
of her teasing moments, and her hand had grasped the towel Ron was trailing.
"Oh, you know me, Anne," he told her as he sat down on the couch beside her
stretched-out legs. "I like variety. After a sorrel filly like Snapfire, a chestnut mare with
your lines will be a pleasant change."
She jerked the towel from his grasp and tried to flog him with the wet terry, but he
blocked her swing and jumped up to run out of her range. He grabbed his T-shirt from
the hook where he had left it, and went out to his shorts and pants. By the time
Annette got up and ran after him, there was no more unprotected skin to smite.
"We’d better figure out our schedule right away, then," she said, letting the towel fall
limp and grinning at him. "Remember we have guests coming this weekend."
***
The apartment door opened after the third pressing of the chime button, but only far
enough for a green eye to peer through the narrow opening between the door and the
frame.
"Oh, it’s you, Buz!" The door closed long enough for the chain to be unhooked, then it
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opened inward widely so Jake could get his large-boned frame through the gap. The
door closed to reveal the girl who had stood behind it out of sight.
Her red hair and green eyes were perfect matches for Jake’s, but the resemblance ended
there. Where Jake had a scattering of freckles and moles, his sister’s skin was flawless,
and of an opalescent quality that made it seem special.
"You don’t know how much fun you’re missing at the pool sides of this country,
Paula," he told her as he walked on into her living room. "It might be worth a few
freckles!"
"For your information, my solicitous brother," she said, closing up the front of her
gaping kimono as she followed him toward her bar, "I find all the action I want at
indoor pool sides." She built drinks for them both, slid his across the bar, and leaned
over the narrow top to study him closely. "Why the surprise visit? Not that you aren’t
always welcome, Buz. But you always phone first; one of the things that marks you as
an especially thoughtful brother."
"I guess I just needed a shoulder to cry on, Paula." Jake lifted his glass and almost killed
its contents in one swallowing, thirsty trip. When he set his glass on the bar, he could
not help but see the carelessly exposed mounds of her tits, squeezed together and
upward enticingly as her crossed arms forced them out of the loose silk décolletage.
"Those nipples!" he said hoarsely, remembering them all too well from a past he had
thought forgotten. He picked up his glass again, this time draining it completely.
"I’m sorry, Buz!" Paula said, straightening up and closing the material of her kimono to
hide the source of his incestuous excitement. "I wasn’t thinking. I guess I’d taken it for
granted that… well, that Bibi took such good care of you…"
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She stopped as she saw the look on his face. He was pained and a little embarrassed,
and she quickly finished her own drink, then made two fresh ones while she tried to
guess what was wrong.
"I might as well not beat around the bush," he said as he reached for the proffered
drink. "If I don’t get this pressure relieved by telling someone, I think I’ll explode!"
"Come on over here and sit down," Paula said, emerging from behind the bar and
walking toward the pillowed rattan sofa in the opposite corner. She sat down and patted
the cushion beside her. "Get it off your chest, Buz. I may not be able to help you in any
other way, but your little sister sure can listen."
"It’s Bibi… Bibi and I… not at all like you think, Paula; not like anyone thinks… or
could imagine. The way she talks in a mixed group, you’d think she was a nympho. But
in the bedroom… from the very first night… God, I could hardly believe it myself when
I realized what a pussy-hoarder she is!"
"Bibi? I can’t believe it, either… but, knowing you, I have to accept your word for it.
Good Lord! All this time… poor Buz!"
She set her drink beside Jake’s on the coffee table, then took him in her arms, pulling
him toward her until his head nestled between the cushions, of her tits. Her throat had
a sizable lump it as her sympathy for this big man swelled inside her; he was still the
same lovable character who had played doctor with her in their childhood, and who had
shared with her the first joys of a more dangerously exciting sexual game in their
adolescence.
It was the little boy she was comforting, for she had sworn, as had Jake, that they would
never again let themselves be carried away by the physical excitement of the moment.
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But it was not the little boy who found his lips too temptingly close to those nipples he
remembered with such affection!
Jake suddenly felt all the years slide away, and again he was a high school boy entering
his sister’s room in answer to her call for assistance. Her zipper had stuck, and he
worked with it until he got it engaged, then zipped it down her back for her.
She wore nothing under the dress, for she had been doing some housework that had to
be finished before she could bathe and dress for the Saturday matinee she and Jake
planned to attend while their parents were flying their private plane to Phoenix for the
weekend.
Jake was overcome with the loveliness of her unflawed skin, and he peeled back the
dress at her shoulder with his thumb, and kissed the warm, soft, perspiration-damp
satin of her flesh. Paula whirled, gasping, and the movement peeled the dress off her
shoulder and upper arm. It fell down, revealing the generous, outthrust mounds of her
virginal tits.
"Paula!" Jake had groaned, staring at her beauty. "Oh, Paula… I have to kiss them!"
And he had kissed them lovingly, warmly, wetly, until both nipples swelled to fullness,
making Paula whimper helplessly. She had never been able to refuse her brother
anything within reason, and by the time she had reasoned her way to a need for
denying him this, she was so involved herself that she could only fall back on her bed
and yield to whatever he wanted.
Jake, wearing a light robe after his own shower, followed her forward onto the bed,
kissing and sucking her nipples greedily. His hands pulled her dress downward, bit by
bit, until he felt her weight dragging against it.
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He raised up, his robe falling open and revealing! his virile young cock at full hardness.
Paula raised! her ass as he pulled at her dress, and it was soon on the floor below. He
stared at the gorgeous shapeliness of her, the feminine contours that were so exciting to
him.
Her little nest of reddish-gold fur drew his attention. He had seen her little slit mound
when she was "patient" to his "doctor" as they played in their tree house. Then, it had
been bare, and its excitement was due only to novelty. But now it was compellingly
mature in its coppery curls, its central part more pronounced, swelling slightly outward
where the lips met.
"Oh, God!" he cried as he slid off the edge of the bed and parted her legs with his
trembling hands. He buried his face in the warmth of her nest, inhaling the femaleness
of her with lustful joy. Then he licked into the parted lips of her cunt and tasted her
wet flesh.
"Buz!" she cried. "Oh, Buz… lick it some more!" And he began to lick and suck at her
creaming cunt frantically, wanting to consume her, to make her his possession, his
conquest. When he happened onto her clitoris, he sucked at the little bud as if he would
take it from her.
"Oh, God! I’m dying!" she cried softly as she became racked by the quaking of her first
real orgasm. Jake tongued into her tender virgin entrance with such enthusiasm that he
tore part of her hymen. She shrieked and he pulled away, frightened and ashamed for
having hurt her.
But soon she ceased her wiggling and jerking and he crawled onto the bed again, to
look at her, to feast his eyes on her beauty while he could. There was a new softness on
her face – an added dimension of loveliness. It shone from her slightly swollen eyes and
48
seemed to glow from her skin.
"Lie down with me, Buz," she said softly. And he nestled beside her cozily, enjoying the
feel of her warm, pulsing body as it contacted his own.
Then she got up and leaned over him, giggling to herself quietly as she kissed his
useless male tits. Then she kissed downward onto his belly and into the wiry red thatch
at his groin. She studied the erect cock admiringly, wrapped her fingers around its
shaft, and slid its skin back until the dark redness of his knob popped into sight.
She gasped as she leaned closer to it, put her lips against the tip in tentative contact,
then moaned as she slid it into her mouth. Jake thought he would come right away, so
sweetly seductive was her mouth as it slid over his cock, salivating greedily.
But he lasted almost two minutes, then erupted in ecstatic jets that Paula consumed
frantically to keep from choking. When she had drained him, she fell back to lie beside
him, panting, but smugly gratified, knowing she had pleased him as much as he had
pleased her.
They had skipped the first of the double feature by unspoken agreement, remaining
together as they caressed and explored bodies much more thoroughly than in their
"doctor" play. Jake licked and sucked her to a second climax, more powerful than the
first. And Paula again reciprocated, winning a smaller liquid offering but a larger
portion of grunts and groans as the longer-lasting treatment gave Jake countless
thrilling minutes.
As they walked to the theater, later, they became very realistic in their discussion of the
affair. Both realized that it had to be the last as well as the first, for eventually they
would be driven by desire to "go all the way" as Paula stated it; Jake’s more colorful
49
terminology referred to fucking themselves out of promising futures.
And they had held to it all these years. But with Jake’s hot breath flowing over her tits,
Paula knew that she was again helpless to deny him; not only because of his apparent
need due to marital limitations, but because her desire made her vulnerable.
And Jake could not help himself. He took her nipple in his mouth, tongued it and
sucked it adoringly, as Paula whimpered her pleasure, and his hand sought her crotch,
fingers trembling to renew their contact with her delights. Then Paula pushed him away
and leaned back to look in his face, her eyes beginning to swell up with the
engorgement of her passion.
"Take your clothes off, Buz," she said softly, "and come to me in my bedroom…"
As she disappeared through a doorway, he undressed hastily. He knew that Paula took
the pill, and that this time there would be nothing to hold them back. After all this
time, he was going to enter her exciting body; fuck that sweet cunt of hers with the
cock that had ached to explore her for so long!
She was lying across her bed in almost the precise position he remembered so well. He
knelt and took her legs, pulled them far apart, and gazed at the wealth of red-gold hair
in her crotch. He uttered a wild little animal cry and drove into her cunt with his lips
and tongue, stirring her up until she was moaning constantly.
She came in trembling waves that shook the bed, and Jake rose above her, licking her
cream from his lips, to set the head of his prick against the forbidden door of her
convulsing cunt.
He shoved into her slowly, relishing the feel of her, knowing that it would be the last
50
time, no matter how great her sympathy and desire for him, and no matter how hard
up he might become. He knew that he had wanted this ever since their first sexual
adventure, and that the potency of his lust for her was mainly due to the fact that it was
a socially forbidden relationship.
Yet he felt more than lust as he stroked within the glorious creamy velvet of her sheath.
He felt that this was a final declaration of their mutual affection; a symbolic seal to the
living document of their lifetime closeness. But it would be the last, and it must be
enjoyed to the fullest.
"Darling Paula!" he whispered, then pressed his lips to hers. They kissed as they had
dared not kiss on that long-ago Saturday. And they did not stop kissing until Paula felt
the oncoming waves of her climax. Then she broke the oral connection.
"Buz… I’m coming… be with me… please!" she cried. And he felt his cock pulled at that
instant. He flooded her cunt with his gushing and she moaned and writhed and jerked
under him to the last spasm.
When they had showered and dressed, Jake built fresh drinks by adding ice and Scotch
to the ones they had abandoned by the sofa. When they had given each other a series of
very meaningful looks, Paula broke the silence.
"Buz, I know you love Bibi, or you wouldn’t have lasted it out all this time. So we
simply have to find a way to open her up so she’ll be the woman you want her to be…
the woman she can and should be."
"But how, Paula?" Jake wanted to believe it could be done. He had hope in his eyes,
although there was desperation in his voice.
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"I have an idea, Buz. It won’t be easy, because she must have a pretty deep-seated hang-
up of some sort. But what I’m thinking of is a drastic treatment. And I think I know
who can help us pull it off. You see, I have these friends… Ron and Annette Lansing.
You might be a little shocked to know how I met them, but this is no time for me to be
coy, Buz. So here’s the whole bag of worms…"
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