Horsing Around!
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Act 2, Chapter 7
She woke up to birdsong and sleepily opened one eye.
Sam was snoring gently next to her, his arm wrapped over her naked thigh. Peta smiled and moved closer to him, rubbing her buttocks against his groin. He opened his eyes a little and smiled back. “Good morning, gorgeous,” he said, putting his arms around her.
“Guten Morgen,” she replied, and they kissed. Sam’s right hand wandered to her breasts, and Peta giggled as he cupped them, fondling her nipples with his fingers. She felt the warmth of his quickly expanding dick in the small of her back.
“Would you like some morning sex?” he asked her, as he stretched out his arms before cheekily taking his shaft and slapping it against her bum.
“Mmmmmm,” Peta said, turning to face him, “I don’t know, maybe…” she took his hand and put it between her thighs, encouraging him to finger her.
“Oh,” Sam said, “you’re already wet…” he grinned as he fingered her. “Better make it a good start to the day,” he said, putting her on her back and pushing her legs apart.
“Stop it,” she laughed, as he teased her clit with the tip of his dick, “put a condom on!” Sam reached out to his bedside drawer, rummaged, and pulled out a packet. She fondly stroked his shaft while he struggled to open the packet, eventually breaking through and then letting Peta sheath him.
“Ja, that looks inviting,” Peta said, looking at the now yellowy, girthy sheathed dick in front of her. “Put it in!”
He slid into her, and Peta laughed, pulling him close. “You slid in more easily that time,” she said, as he swayed his hips back and forth. “Oh, Gott…” she said, putting her head back.
Sam grabbed her breasts roughly and then licked her nipples as he thrust downwards. Peta sank back into the sheets, reddening in the face as she became wetter around his dick. “Ja…ja…ja…” she let out a bit of a louder “Ja,” as he managed to start rubbing her clit with his finger as he fucked her.
“How do you know how to do this to me?” she moaned, as he leaned in to kiss her.
“Porn, probably,” Sam said, and she laughed as he lifted her from the sheets and put her on top. “Ride me,” he said, and she obeyed. Swaying herself, lifting up and down, slowing to show him his slick, wet dick straight beneath her before plunging down onto his crotch, and humping close to him, keeping the dick inside her.
He fingered her clit again, and Peta threw her head back as she came over him. This time, she squirted. Sam was not prepared for it, surprised. “Are you okay?” He asked.
Peta smiled, her eyes closed. “Ja, zerrrrr gut,” she said, throbbing. “You need to come too,” she said. “How do you want to come?”
“Doggy,” Sam said, and she got off him, a little clumsily, and then presented herself on the bed, bending over and spreading her legs. Her pussy was open, lips parted from their sex, and Sam easily lifted his condom-clad dick inside her.
He started to thrust back and forth, holding her buttocks. The curve of his dick seemed to fill her better in this position, and Peta felt herself becoming wetter again, seemingly a flood of her juices, but in reality just around his dick. “You can go a bit harder,” she said, and he started to push her down into the sheets once more.
Peta squealed a little as her buttocks slapped against his groin, she was splayed flat onto the bed, into the sheets, and finally, she felt him stiffen, and go rigid, and she felt what she thought was warmth inside her, filling her, into the condom.
Sam pulled out, and the condom hung from his dick, filled to the tip. Peta leaned over and pressed the end, playfully. “You came a lot,” she said.
“A pity it didn’t go inside you,” he said, kissing her before taking the condom off and tying it off.
“What’s the plan for today?” Peta asked, putting on her robe.
“Shower, coffee, early morning train to London and a sightseeing tour courtesy of yours truly,” Sam said, putting his own dressing gown on and taking a majestic bow. She laughed at his theatrics.
“Das ist gut…that is a good plan,” she said.
They crept down to the bathroom. It was about seven, or thereabouts. Even the dog wasn’t awake yet. Sam beckoned her to go first and shut the door behind them. “We are showering together?” Peta queried quietly.
“More romantic this way,” Sam said, taking her into his arms and kissing her, undoing her robe and letting it drop to the floor. “We have to be quiet though, I don’t think my mum will appreciate us showering together…”
Peta let out a small giggle, putting her hand over her mouth as he lifted her into the shower and turned the tap on. They kissed under the water, washing off the sweat and come, cleaning each other and caressing each other. Getting out of the shower, Peta heard voices and shushed Sam. “Listen,” she said.
It was Sam’s mother, with the dog now barking loud enough to wake the dead. But not, apparently, his sister, whose snores could be heard just behind their door as they tiptoed back up to his Çayyolu escort room. “We’ll leave her a note,” Sam said to Peta, hastily pulling on his jeans, getting one leg stuck and tumbling over onto the bed. Peta laughed and helped him up.
“Yes, well, harrumph,” he said, pulling his t-shirt on, “I clearly meant to do that.”
“Clearly,” Peta said, fondly straightening his shirt. The black shirt was emblazoned with the words “Fleetwood Mac: Rumours” and below was an image of a ponytailed man in a waistcoat seemingly dancing with a blonde in a gothic dress. “Is this a band?” she asked.
Sam looked at her blankly. “It’s THE band,” he said. “Have you ever heard the F1 music they play at the start?”
“Ja,” Peta said, and started to hum it. “Dum, dum dum dum, dum dum dum der dum dummmmmmm…” she sang.
“That’s Fleetwood Mac, and it’s on their Rumours album,” Sam said. “It’s one of my favorite tracks, it’s called The Chain. It’s awesome.” He looked at her carefully. “We could go to a gig one day…what do you think?”
“Ja,” Peta said happily. “I love gigs.”
“I’ll see if I can get tickets,” he said, “they have a new album coming out as part of their Say You Will tour.”
Peta dressed, throwing on her own white washed jeans, and put on a red bra under a white shirt. Sam threw his arms around her and kissed her neck from behind, and she giggled, turning to him and kissing him on the lips. “Enough… let me get ready so we can go,” she said, grabbing her silver puffer jacket and her handbag.
They crept downstairs, only stopping to say hi to the dog, wagging her tail and growling quietly (she had a mouth full of a large bone!) before creeping out of the house and running for Sam’s car. The old red station wagon started up first time, and Sam quickly drove them up and round the corner, into the misty roads of south London.
“We’re going to park up at the station and get the train in,” Sam said, throwing a cassette into the car’s player and turning the volume up. Peta frowned, trying to place the music. It sounded familiar… then the guitar solo kicked in. “The F1 tune?” she asked.
“The F1 tune,” Sam replied, and kicked the car down into overdrive, throwing them back into their seats as the station wagon’s turbo spooled up and whined! They hurtled down the road, slowing for the roundabout, before kicking up again and flying past some playing fields, before turning down a lane and heading for a car park and a railway station.
Peta howled with laughter as they came to a stop at the end of the song. “That was fun!” she said. “Can I have a go at driving it on the way back?”
“Hmmmm… maybe,” Sam said, jumping out of the car and running around to open the door for her. He closed her door and then patted the old car’s bonnet, like a faithful pet. She loved these little oddities of his. She couldn’t explain why. She took his hand and walked with him to the train station, realizing that he had looked back to check on the car repeatedly. He must love that car like I love father’s bike, she thought.
“THE TRAIN NOW APPROACHING PLATFORM ONE, IS THE SEVEN TWENTY-FIVE TO CHARING CROSS. THIS TRAIN IS FAST TO HITHER GREEN.”
“Perfect,” Sam said, passing Peta her ticket stub, an orange piece of card. They got through the barriers and ran for the front of the train. “Quick, in here,” Sam said, and they just about made it through the closing doors. He directed her to sit in a two-seat partition, and they flopped down next to the window as the train hummed its way out of the station.
“So…” Sam said, turning to her, “there were a few questions I wanted to ask.”
“Ja?” Peta said. “Go ahead.”
He hesitated. “Would you ever consider living in another country?”
Peta considered it. “Ja, for the right reasons.”
“What would the right reasons be?”
“Either the right job or the right man,” she replied. “How about you?”
“Same,” Sam said. They smiled, unsure of themselves.
“What about kids?”
“Kinder?” Peta asked. “Ja, I want to have children.”
“How many?”
“Three,” she replied.
“Would you consider two with an option on a third?” Sam asked.
Peta laughed. “Are we negotiating?”
“Maybe,” Sam conceded.
“We’d need to be married for that,” Peta replied.
“Well, would you ever want to get married…” Sam trailed off.
“Ja,” Peta said, looking at him. “I would.” She turned away, blushing. She turned back. Sam was looking out of the window, bright red in the face, but smiling. She took his hand in hers. They gazed back at each other.
“I don’t know if I can say what I’m feeling,” Sam said carefully. “It feels like too much of a dream. I just…”
“Then don’t say it,” Peta whispered. “Let the dream continue. I feel it too.”
He kissed her tenderly, their lips softly touching. “Cherry flavor,” Sam murmured, and Peta laughed.
“Ja, it’s cherry,” she said, pulling out a chapstick.
“We used to have a saying in old England,” Sam said solemnly, “dry lips Cebeci escort sink ships.”
“Wasn’t it loose lips?” Peta said, but she was interrupted by the tannoy announcing they were coming into Charing Cross shortly. She looked out the window and marveled. There was the river Thames, the London Eye: in the distance there were skyscrapers and she thought she spotted St. Paul’s, just as the train went into the darkness of the terminus and spluttered to a halt at the buffers.
They jumped off and headed for the exit, crowds of people milling around the platforms. Peta marveled as they exited Charing Cross, and turned left, and there in front of her was Trafalgar Square. “I’ve always wanted to see this,” she said, marveling at the tall column and statue of Nelson and the Lion statues.
Sam held her hand tightly as they crossed the road, dodging between traffic, bicycles, and other pedestrians as they entered the square. The fountain was running, and the wind blew up water droplets into the air.
Peta laughed as a big gust of wind blew water onto Sam, drenching his shirt. Sam laughed back and scooped some water out of the pool, throwing it at her. “Sam!” Peta gasped, her t-shirt a bit wet and revealing a portion of her red bra through the damp material.
“Don’t tell me you don’t love it,” he said, kissing her. She kissed him back. No one else existed at this point. It was just him and her.
They walked down toward the front of Horse Guards Parade. The horses were already out, with their soldiers. Peta marveled at their size and how still they were. “Aren’t they pretty?” she said, looking at one with grey flecks in its coat.
“They’re wonderful creatures,” Sam replied. “I love horses. Been riding since I was a kid.” He was about to say more, but then one of the horses whinnied and threw its rider. It all happened at once: the horse charged into traffic, Sam threw his hand out, grabbing the reins, the horse reared up, Sam pushed Peta to one side out of the way, and the horse threw its feet down and neighed, angrily, head-butting Sam, who fell back.
“No,” Sam said gently, getting back to his feet and putting his hand on the horse’s cheek, “no, it’s okay. I’m here, I’m not going to hurt you.” Peta, taken aback by the whole exchange, only watched as the injured soldier was helped away, and one of his colleagues marched over to Sam, still holding onto the (now calmer) horse.
“Here,” Sam said, handing the reins back, “I think you lost this.”
“Her Majesty thanks you for your quick thinking,” the soldier said stiffly. “Our guard commander would like to invite you over to see the stables.”
Sam looked to Peta, who smiled and nodded. “Can I bring my…”
“…friend,” Peta finished for him.
The soldier nodded. “Follow me.”
Sam led the horse on, and Peta walked alongside him as they followed the guard through the gate, to the back and out to the stables.
“Ere! Is that the bastard who threw his rider?” one of the stable hands called out.
“He was just spooked,” Sam said, “it was probably a rat. He just needs a bit of love, don’t you boy?” he said, rubbing the horse’s cheek. Peta wasn’t sure, but she could have sworn that the horse was smiling.
The soldier took them to the horse’s pen, whose name, “Vanderbilt”, was on the door, and asked them to wait with him while he fetched the commander.
Sam picked up a brush. “Here,” he said, passing it to Peta, “have a go at brushing him.” She stroked the hair on the horse’s back and marveled at the sleekness. Sam carefully undid the saddle and started to put away the reins. Vanderbilt came up to Peta and nuzzled her. “He wants you to brush his head,” Sam said.
“Oh,” Peta said. “Okay.” She started to gently brush the top of his head, and the horse closed its eyes. It looked calmer, almost content.
“That’s it,” Sam said gently. “Just like that.”
“You are a rider in your own right?” The guard commander had come back with the soldier.
“That’s right,” Sam said, stepping over to him and offering his hand. The commander shook it.
“That was a very near thing. You were right, by the way, the horse was spooked. Turned out it was a laser pen, someone was targeting the horses earlier.”
“I am sorry to hear that,” Sam said. “I was glad to be of help. I’d have wanted someone to do it for me. Is the rider okay?”
“He has a broken wrist, I am afraid,” the commander said. He paused. “I wouldn’t ask this, but we have a fifteen-minute period where there would be no horses on display, due to the rotation. If we got you a uniform, could you stand outside for us?”
“Well,” Sam said, “I was meant to be taking my ‘friend’ (Peta noticed the extra emphasis) round London just now.”
“You’d be done by midday and would have our gratitude,” the commander said.
Sam turned to Peta. “It is only half an hour away,” he said.
“Well, I like a man in uniform,” Peta teased. “Go on, I’ll wait with you outside.”
The commander asked the soldier to grab Çukurambar escort a spare uniform. “You’re already wearing boots, I see,” he said, looking down at Sam.
Sam shrugged. “They’re comfortable,” he said. “And I go riding often enough that I need them.”
Peta helped him change quickly. “I’m proud of you,” she said, and Sam allowed a small smile before frowning as he tried to put the dark green tunic on. Peta helped with the buttons, and the soldier obliged with the hat.
He put the reins and saddle back on Vanderbilt, and then lifted himself into the saddle from the left side, hooking his legs up one at a time to check the tightness of the saddle. “Can you get the door?” Sam asked, and Peta rang to the door of the box, unbolting it. With that, Sam kicked on, and Vanderbilt walked firmly out into the courtyard.
“No whip?” the soldier asked him.
“I don’t need it, he’s not dead to the leg and he’s pretty obedient,” Sam replied, pushing him on into a trot. Peta and the soldier had to jog to keep up!
He stood silent, frowning, with the grey horse for exactly half an hour, never looking down. The crowds enjoyed the sight of Vanderbilt and Sam, and the horse was calm throughout. “He’s done well,” the soldier remarked to Peta, “he’s disciplined enough in his manner that you’d think he was actually one of ours.”
Peta nodded sadly. “I think he’s in a bad mood. I might have upset him.”
“Oh yes, the friend comment,” the soldier said. “Take my advice lass, give him a good chat after he’s off the horse and let him know how you really feel.”
“I don’t think I do know how I feel,” Peta said.
“I respectfully disagree, ma’am,” the soldier replied. “The way you tended to him when changing, well, that’s more than a friend.”
Sam saluted the guard commander and then started to walk Vanderbilt back to the courtyard. Peta followed and quietly walked alongside him as they reached the stables. Sam dismounted carefully, led Vanderbilt into his box, and began to take his reins and saddle off, passing the reins to Peta to hang on the wall.
“Sam,” Peta said, helping him change back, “I am sorry if I upset you.”
“You didn’t upset me,” Sam said a bit sharply. “Why would I be upset?” He pulled his jeans back on and stepped into his boots. “Thanks for the loan,” he said, passing the uniform back to the soldier.
“Why don’t you go over to the far part of the stable?” the soldier offered. “You can have a look at the equipment and the hay storage and come back.”
“Okay,” Peta said, grabbing Sam’s hand. “Come on, let’s have a quick walk.” Reluctantly, Sam followed her through the stable to the next building, and the soldier turned and stood guard. She pulled him down the corridor, and they turned a corner. Hay bales, everywhere. She took him round to a quiet spot, and sat him down on a bale.
“Look, I said ‘friend’ because we haven’t really had enough time yet,” she said to him.
“Just think, we met on holiday, we’ve been writing for months, and now I’m here, and this really, is a first date”.
And in between, she added, “We have had some amazing sex…” She rubbed his thigh and looked at him lovingly.
“Okay,” Sam said, “but I was actually going to say ‘friend’ myself. I don’t know either. But I do know,” he added, “that I am struggling with my feelings for you, Peta… I just feel like, I don’t know…”
“Bursting into song?” Peta suggested.
Sam blushed. “Maybe.”
“Me too,” she said, and took his face and kissed him. She looked around. They were alone. No sounds could be heard, only the hustle and bustle of London.
“I have a naughty idea,” Peta said, standing up and turning to him. She took off her coat and threw it on the hay bale.
“Pet… what are you doing?”
Peta peeled off her shirt, revealing her red bra. Sam blushed madly. “Peta,” he said, “stop it. We can’t do anything in the queen’s stables!”
“No one is here. We’ll be quick.” She unbuttoned her bra and threw it to him, her pert breasts still a little wet from the shirt.
“Peta,” Sam said, but she had already kicked off her trainers and pulled down her jeans. Naked, she stepped out onto the ground and then laid herself down on the hay bale next to him, inviting him.
“We are definitely going to have to be quick,” she giggled. “The straw’s a bit scratchy. Come on!”
Sam hesitated, then pulled his shirt off. “Okay,” he said, unzipping his jeans and dropping his underwear. “Here I come…” He climbed on top of her and kissed her, rubbing his dick against her clit. “Oh snap,” he said, looking at her, “no condom?”
“Pull out,” Peta said, “put it on the ground somewhere.”
“Okay,” Sam said, and he excitedly lined himself up.
A tiny globule of pre-come bubbled up at the tip of his dick, and Peta laughed, grabbing it. “Sam,” she said.
“So no?” Sam said.
Peta smiled. Then she guided him inside. “Just remember to pull out,” she whispered, as Sam fucked her on the hay bale, gasping, pushing himself inside her.
“You’re the best Pet,” Sam whispered, and they fondled each other as they fucked, Sam pushing down and Peta lifting her hips up and into him. It was wonderful, fast, sensual sex, and within a few minutes, Sam was panting, ragged, and she knew he was near.
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