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Riding Bareback | peterboy1


Riding Bareback
I'm in my mid 20's, now, and my wedding is planned for this
September and I'm very excited about it. Kevin, my fiance, is
the love of my life -- the most wonderful man in the world -- and
I could not love or want him more than I do. We've known each
other for more than three years and we've known each other
intimately for almost a year. We are not virgins with each
other.
My life and my mind are so filled with Kevin, I hardly have
room to remember Brad -- but I still do, all the time... It's
hard to believe, but I had my first sexual experience with Brad
about a month before my 12th birthday. My birthday is in June,
so it was probably in May, and I was still 11! Young enough to
think the ONLY love in my life would be a horse.
I fell in love with horses so long ago, I can't even
remember when it happened. Novels and picture books, photos and
paint-by-numbers, stuffed and carved -- my room and my mind were
full of horses!
My family didn't have horses, but the family living down the
road had a small horse ranch. Their youngest son was Brad and he
was a senior in high school at the time. I was still in
elementary school, but we rode the same bus to the huge district
school complex and I walked past their house on the way to the
bus stop. Sometimes, since we were the only two kids at that bus
stop, Brad would let me walk with him, but he never talked very
much and he'd never stop to let me visit with the horses along
the fence. I'd given names to several of them and they would
come when I called. Finally, it must have dawned on him that I
really did like horses.
It was the last month of school for the year and the weather
was much warmer than usual. One day, after the bus dropped the
two of us off, Brad asked me if I'd ever ridden a horse. I told
him that I had been on the horse ride at the carnival. He
laughed and asked me if I'd like to ride a `real' horse.
Of course, I screamed "Yes!"
I loved that first time so much, it became a habit, right
away. On the way home from the bus stop, we'd stop at Brad's
house and he would give me a ride home on one of their big
horses.
We always rode bareback and I felt like a queen sitting
behind him. I'd wrap my arms around him real tight and hang on
for dear life. He was so strong and gentle, and soon, he even
seemed to actually like me. I think Brad liked anyone who liked
horses. He was the star football player, an ace student, and all
the older girls went nuts over him (especially my older sister!).

And I knew he dated a girl, Susanne, but she didn't like horses.
But, he liked me! I didn't realize it then, but what I had was a
very big crush.
Sometimes we wouldn't go straight to my house. We'd ride
for maybe an hour or so, and then he'd take me home. One really
hot day, we stopped by the creek, far back on his parents'
property, near where the forest began.
We were hot and sweating when we dismounted, and I kicked
off my shoes and socks and ran, splashing, into the creek. Brad
stood there, watching me and laughing. While I was standing
bare-footed in the creek, Brad smiled and asked me what I wanted
to do next.
"I want to ride nude!" I said. "Both of us!" I almost
shouted it. I don't know why I said it, but I knew I didn't want
anything between me and the horse (or maybe me and Brad!).
Brad yelped in surprise and he didn't believe me at first,
but I kept insisting that I did. Finally, I shrugged
indifference and told him that he would not be the first naked
man I'd seen. I'm sure he assumed that I'd seen my father, but
the truth was -- I'd never seen a live naked man in my life!
I pretended not to watch him as he undressed, but I did. He
obviously wasn't interested in watching me, and that made me more
than a little unhappy. But as I watched him, I quickly got over
it. His body was gorgeous!
He looked almost as strong as his horse and I'm still not
sure which expectation excited me more -- riding naked or being
naked with him. As soon as I put my arms around him, I was no
longer in doubt. The feel of both hard bodies against my bare
skin was just too much, and as we rode, I let one hand drop
lower.
Today, when I masturbate, I still think about that first
afternoon and his wonderful mouth. My understanding of sexual
matters, at the time, was almost nothing. I didn't even know
what a human male's erection looked like. I barely had some
genital hair and I knew adults had much more. The only true
sexual thoughts I'd had -- until that afternoon -- were thoughts
about when I'd have breasts, like my older sister.
When I let that one hand drop, I had no idea what I'd find
and I still wonder what gave me the courage. He was soft and
firm and warm and like nothing else I'd ever felt in my hand
before.
He pushed my hand away...several times. And then what i was
feeling felt even bigger and harder, and he did not push my hand
away. The harder he got, the faster we rode, and the harder I
held on to him...until he exploded warm goo and everything slowed
down.
Yes, I was frightened. I was sure I'd hurt him, his warm
stuff was on my fingers, on his shoulders and in his hair.
I was afraid to say anything. I was positive I'd done
something very wrong, and he'd yell at me if I even opened my
mouth. He stopped at the creek, again, and told me to wash my
hand. I was afraid to look at him, I knew he was washing his
face and chest.
Just as I was reaching for my clothes, I heard his voice.
He told me not to worry. I was almost crying and he helped me
sit down in the grass.
I'm in his arms, and I move closer, tighter into him, still
scared. An instant later, his long kiss sends my mind swimming
down the creek. I feel the cool grass on my back, and then his
face moved away from my lips and I felt his mouth kissing me,
moving down my body, until he was kissing me deeply where I'd
never been opened before, and I knew then that I'd never be
afraid of him again.
That was the very best summer of my life. Mom and Dad gave
me my very own horse on my 12th birthday, so Brad and I would
ride almost every day, and we'd always stop by the creek. We
never rode nude again.
At first, beside the noisy creek, I'd use my hand on him and
then I'd embrace his face with my thighs until I was done. But,
quickly, our loving matured. Always afterwards, I'd hide myself
in his arms, and sometimes we would sleep.
It wasn't long before Brad let me kiss his massive erection,
and I soon loved how his stuff would fill my mouth and make me
swallow and swallow. What I was doing for him made me so proud
of myself.
By the end of June, we were having intercourse. The first
time, he held me over his body and lowered me down onto and
around his hard flesh. I was slippery-wet and hungry for him and
it hurt only a tiny bit and then the pleasure flooded through my
body, and I wanted to never stop what we were doing.
We were both always ready for more. I could always make him
hard and he would always have me wet and tingly in anticipation.
Every day, at least once, sometimes three or four times a day we
would love each other!
He went away to college in September. We didn't talk about
love or anything like that. I was smart enough to know that I
wasn't really in love with him, although I loved doing it to him
and I loved what he did to me.
I had several boyfriends in high school, but we never had
any kind of sex other than kissing and a few feels. I always
waited for Brad's return from college. We were always there for
each other whenever he came home -- somedays it seemed like we
made love continuously, from dawn till after dark. But, after
Brad graduated from college, when he was 22 and I was just 16, he
got a job too far away to visit, and I missed him so much -- so
very, very much. We wrote, but...
I met Kevin over three years ago, and I haven't thought as
much about Brad since. Brad introduced me to, and gave me, the
most wonderful pleasures... but I never saw myself as his equal.
He was always an adult, a teacher, never a lover. But he is
still my sweetest and dearest friend, and he has my eternal
thanks.
His legs were like trees, he had almost no hindquarters. He
would carry me over the creek as easily as he could carry
himself. He picked me up like I was nothing. His arms could
cover me, and hide all of me. His hands could cover my whole
face. His chest seemed bigger than my bed. I could sit in his
hands -- were they so big and strong, or was my butt so small? I
wish he would carry me again today.
No hair -- I had no hair that first Summer and he made fun
of me and told me I had no hair. But I did! Yes, I had some...
I had a few, I did! He never made fun of my breasts, though, the
ones I didn't have when he first knew me. He watched them grow
that summer, he helped me grow, he loved me growing. His mouth,
his tongue, his sharp teeth so pure and white...he could make my
nipples so hard. He told me loving them the way he did would
make them grow. And his hard loving and sucking did.
Can anyone begin to imagine how much I loved watching Brad?
Can anyone begin to imagine how much I loved watching how huge he
would grow in my small hands? His massive balls were as heavy as
those of his horse. And his cock! How I loved his cock, his
HUGE HARD COCK was life itself!
There are no words big enough, or strong enough, or hard
enough, or long enough, or thick and fat enough to describe the
massiveness of him that I pumped with my hands...or the first
time I tried to capture some of his eruption in my mouth. It was
so pure, so much, so real, so warm, so thick...so new. No pain,
no fear, no damage, no heartache... no death except that most
wonderful death of dying from his mouth and darting tongue... the
first time he put one finger in, deep... and most of all -- the
very first time I knew and took him in fully. He was always in
me so DEEP!
For years, I would close my eyes and see Brad so big and
strong and hard. I've often wished I had some pictures of Brad,
a film of the two of us by the creek would be even more precious
-- he was so good and so big, both my hands weren't even enough.
I wish I had something so big and strong to hang onto this
evening and all night long.
It is such a shame that the wonderful beauty and the most
intense pleasure of those times were not recorded in living color
and real sound...the creek, his voice, his gasps, his surrender
and the raging roar of his bull release. Kevin's, I will have
and hold and hear for the rest of my life, but Brad was the first
and his were the first, and they will always be important for
that.
Sometimes I ...


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