Page 20 of Dangerous Stakes

Susan opened the gate and Tank followed her out with no halter on. Rory watched and groaned. He looked at the small band of school age girls who surrounded him.

“Do not, I repeat, do not, copy that behavior.” They all gazed adoringly at Rory’s dark, Irish good looks and nodded with reverence. “And you,” he said, pointing at Susan, “are late and we need to get your lesson done.”

Rory finished the lesson with his young students and sent them and their mothers on their way. Susan always had her lesson with Rory at the end of the day and preferably with no one around. On more than one occasion her riding lesson ended with Tank being put up in his stall and Susan being pushed flat on her back in some loose hay or bent over a bale for a quick fuck from behind.

Once all the clients and staff had departed, Rory closed and locked the iron gate that guarded the entrance to the farm. He joined Susan in Tank’s stall where she was grooming him before tacking him up.

“How many times, Susan, have I told you not to do that, especially when the little ones are around?”

Susan could hear that his Irish brogue had deepened, which it did when he was aroused, angry, or both. She suspected in this case it was both. Obviously, he was still in a snit left over from this morning and the fact that Susan had brought Tank in without a halter.

“Probably a lot fewer times than it’ll take to convince me not to,” Susan laughed.

Susan continued to brush out Tank’s long tail. Rory started to enter Tank’s stall and the big horse looked at him and pinned his ears. Susan reached up and stroked Tank’s flank affectionately. “It’s okay, big guy; the Irishman’s bark is worse than his bite.”

“Oh, it is, is it?” he said, snaking his arm out and catching her by the arm to shove her against the back wall of the stall.

Rory’s mouth descended on hers in a fiery kiss. Her mouth parted to accept both the kiss itself and the pent-up frustration and anger than fueled it. His tongue ravaged her mouth, but Susan was careful not to moan. Tank and Rory were still finding their way in their relationship. At this point they respected each other, but they weren’t friends. Susan often teased Rory that he was jealous that he wasn’t the only thing she enjoyed wrapping her legs around.

Such teasing usually resulted in her backside being swatted with a cross between affection and annoyance. Tank and Rory saw the other as something of a rival for her attention and affection.

Rory had been wrong when he chastised her in the pasture. Tank was very much like a dog—her own personal seventeen-hundred-pound guard dog. The wrong kind of moan from her could be interpreted by Tank as Rory trying to cause her harm or distress, which would elicit a protective maneuver by Tank to hurt Rory.

“Careful, Irish,” Susan whispered, “you don’t want to piss him off in close quarters.”

Rory’s mouth took hers again as his hands cupped her ass and pulled her into the bulge that was quickly hardening beneath his breeches. Susan moaned appreciatively in a manner that could only be interpreted as pleasurable. Having seen and heard it all before, Tank buried his muzzle in his hay and munched contentedly.

Knowing that he had captured her attention, Rory’s one hand continued to keep the lower half of her body pressed tightly against his as his other hand came up to feel her breast. His plan was to play with her nipple until it had reached a nice, hard, almost painful state of arousal. Finding the bud was already hard enough for his liking, Rory chuckled softly and pulled her shirt out of her breeches. He reached up under it and shoved her riding bra up over her breasts so he could feel the soft skin with the hard nub at its center. Susan inhaled sharply as his thumb raked over it and then he lowered his head to envelop it in his mouth and flick his tongue across it.

Rory’s teeth closed on the sensitive nipple, resulting in a small gasp escaping from Susan’s lips. Again, the deep chuckle. “Still think my bark is worse than my bite?”

Rory’s hand made short work of getting her shirt and bra completely off, throwing them onto Tank’s back. Tank chose to ignore them and simply continued to eat his hay without paying them any further mind. Rory continued to suck and fondle her breasts and nipples in the way he knew would produce a slick wetness between her legs that he could make use of.

He unsnapped and unzipped her tight black riding breeches and pushed them down past her knees so that they were doubled over her black riding boots. Rory grabbed her lilac lace panties and ripped them off, letting them fall onto the stall floor. Susan made a mental note to remember to make sure she got those picked up before the stall cleaners found them again. Susan reciprocated by helping him to open the front of his breeches, releasing his rigid staff. Susan wrapped her hand around him, squeezing him lightly.

“Keep in mind, Irish, I’ve been known to bite, too.”

The state of his arousal had forced the foreskin back, exposing the head of his cock. Susan had become enamored at the sight of his cock becoming aroused and peeking out from the foreskin.

“Thus, the reason, my darling girl, I have no intention of letting your mouth anywhere near my cock for a while.”

With that, he lifted her up so that he could slip his hard cock into her wet and waiting pussy. The rough wood and cold iron bars of Tank’s stall rubbed hard against her back and were a sharp contrast to the warmth and comfort Susan found impaled on Rory’s shaft. Rory began thrusting none too gently, taking her breath away.

“God, you feel good. I could have killed you this morning when you got me hard in the shower and then left the house before I could get out and take care of the issue.”

Susan laughed, remembering how giddy she’d felt knowing she was leaving him in an aroused state with little he could do about it.

Rory continued, “You laugh now, but we’ll see what you think by the time we get back to our bed. Keep in mind what happened to you the last time you played the cock tease with me.”

His thrusting became stronger and more urgent. Her pussy started to tighten, and Susan could feel her orgasm start. He continued to increase the pace, rhythm, and strength of his thrusts until they both came with a small scream from her and a large groan from him. He withdrew and collapsed against her, trapping her against the stall wall.

Rory grabbed her upper arm and jerked her forward. As he did so, he leaned down and into her midsection, coming up with her hefted over his shoulder. He knew she hated to be carried… especially with her breeches still doubled down over her boots and the rest of her stark naked. As he passed Tank, he grabbed her shirt and bra that had remained on Tank’s back throughout their furious coupling.

Rory closed the stall door and locked it. Susan thought he planned to take her back up to the house and toss her onto their bed. Her thinking was flawed, she had failed to take into account how uncomfortable he had been for most of the day.

Rory headed over to the bales of fresh alfalfa stacked neatly in their designated spot, sat down on one bale and dumped her from his shoulder onto his lap, and more particularly, over his knee. Knowing what was about to happen, Susan started to struggle to get up.

“I don’t think so, wench,” he said his brogue once again deepening with annoyance and lust. “You had your fun this morning … I intend to have my revenge tonight starting with you getting the spanking you richly deserve for leaving me in the state you did this morning.”

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