| Victoria and Helen, Chapter 4 The next morning I tiptoed past my teenaged guest's room wearing only my dressing gown. In the kitchen I prepared a light breakfast of fresh fruit yogurt and cereal. After setting everything on the dining room table I looked out the floor to ceiling window at the brilliant sunshine glistening off the mirror smooth surface of the pool. It was a good day for riding. Curling up in my favorite chair with my first coffee, my mind wandered through my plan for the day focusing on opportunities to further titillate young Miz Simms. I didn't hear her come in, but when she sleepily said 'Good morning' I looked up and my calculating brain gave way to the sensory rush one gets when looking at a master piece. She looked so young standing there in her mid thigh length nightshirt rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "I didn't expect you up so soon," I responded. She scurried over to the couch opposite my chair and curled into a ball as if she was cold. "I was dreaming about horses," Vicki confided. "I dreamt I was riding one and then I sort of half woke up and realized that it wasn't just a dream like it usually is. Are we, uh ... can we still go?" I crossed the short distance between us, sat next to my ward on the couch and began stroking her hair. "Of course we're going to go sweetheart," I assured her planting a kiss on her tussled blonde curls, enjoying her soapy fresh scent. " ... as soon as we've had some breakfast." I was so tempted to cuddle that adorable warm little body but I forced myself to rise instead. Her eyes were wide open now—unusually wide I thought. She scurried after me barefoot into the dining room. I had to tell her to slow down as she gobbled down her fruit and yogurt laced cereal. Not surprisingly she finished well before me but I gave her permission to go and get ready because she looked like she had ants in her pants. I'd just finished tidying up when she entered the kitchen in her shorts and T shirt. It was evident that she hadn't taken my advice about the bra. "Is there anything I can do," she offered. "Why don't you go and pick a movie for after diner while I get dressed. They're in the shelf beside the fireplace." My DVD collection was thinned so that only the ones I wanted her to choose from were still in the bookcase. The previous afternoon, before I went to meet her bus, I'd stowed the unsuitable ones in the bottom drawer. Vicki seemed enthused with her task and hurried toward the living room. I took my time getting ready to go out—in public; so to speak. Every year it seemed to take a little longer. During my preparations I mused about the titles my houseguest was sorting through. They were all in that grey area between mainstream romance and soft lesbian porn; nothing too shocking but all appropriate to the objective. Facing the living room from the doorway to the hall in my riding boots and britches, I was thrilled by my guest's rapt attention to one of the more scintillating DVD covers. "Ready to go?" She looked up blue eyes as wide as can be. "Is that the one you want to watch after diner?" She nodded apparently speechless. "Well come on let's go ... I thought you were in a hurry." Vicki sprang to her feet leaving the disc on the front of the bookshelf. The attraction of our immanent horseback ride superceded the fascination with the box the movie was in. Tossing my helmet behind my seat and slipping into the roadster, I saw her pause to admire the expensive toy before she also got in. "This is more fun to drive and ride in than the SUV," I remarked as the powerful engine purred down the driveway. " ... but if you want to take more than a small handbag you'll need a trailer." She was smiling like a kid in a candy store as I chirped the tires shifting to second and then third. I always got a kick out of the throaty growl just before I dropped the clutch. I hardly had time to get up to speed before I had to down shift at the entrance to the stables. Parking beside the classic white board and batten building Julia appeared before I even had time to switch off the engine. My horse boarding neighbor is a few years younger than me and positively svelte in comparison. My arrival wasn't a surprise because I'd called her right after I woke that morning and told her my intentions. "Good morning," she greeted us with her usual cheerful smile. During our quick hug and peck on the cheek I knew that she hadn't taken her eyes off Vicki who was looking around like she'd just landed in Disneyland. "Victoria, honey," I called to get her attention. "I'd like you to meet Julia; the lady who takes such good care of Daisy for me." As the teenager approached Julia extended her hand. "Hi, I'm pleased to meet you," my neighbor said taking Vicki's hand in both of hers while drinking in her splendorous pubescent figure. "Wow!" the girl sighed, "this is like something right out of my dreams." "Ours too," Julia replied enigmatically. "Do you think Sophie's riding clothes will fit her?" I asked referring to her young equestrian stable hand. "Oh I'm sure we can find something suitable ... follow me." The smell of fresh hay and horses pervaded the change room adjoining the barn. Julia slid the dry cleaning bags along the garment rail until she found the one she wanted. The stable owner turned to my ward and said, "Slip out of your top and shorts and let's see how these fit." I wasn't expecting it and the request hit me like a sudden cold gust of wind. I looked at Auntie Helen to see if she was going to come to my aid, but she was smiling as though it was the most natural thing in the world. I shivered with embarrassment but what could I do? The two older women were standing there waiting for me to strip seemingly oblivious to the panic my modesty raised. "She's a bit shy," Helen excused my reticence. "It's just us girls sugar," the stable master encouraged. The dilemma didn't seem as perplexing as it had yesterday in the bathtub. There was still a conflict going on between my poor self-image and my desire to be grown up—one of the girls. Soon enough my desire to please and obey my elders won out. With the decision made I found myself in an entirely different frame of mind as I pulled my top over my head. The strange and still not fully understood feelings began to flow over me. I couldn't look directly at them as I dropped my shorts but I could virtually feel their eyes on me when I straightened up in my bra and panties. "Oh my goodness, you're still wearing your bra!" Helen said as though I'd chosen to wear a crown of thorns. "Don't you like to be free?" I honestly hadn't thought about it when I was dressing. My mind had been preoccupied with the horse riding putting it on was automatic. I was looking down at the floor to avoid making eye contact with the two older women. I was noticing how much closer to filling the 'C' cups I was than I'd been just a couple of weeks ago. I didn't see Auntie Helen approach. "Let me help you with that," she offered. At the same instant she said it I felt her hands on the clasp at the back and the light pressure released. I think I gasped in surprise. The next thing I knew I was topless. The only thing preserving any modesty was my little white bikini panties. I almost resisted the reflex to cross my arms over my chest but my bashfulness was too powerful. It wouldn't have been as bad if my mismatched nipples didn't make me feel like a freak. "What an absolutely gorgeous creature," our host sighed as if I wasn't there. The compliment caused the warm bubble inside my belly to expand. The increasing pressure would have been alarming if it weren't for the fact that it felt kind of good. It seemed like a long time that I was standing there all but naked. "See if it fits," Helen finally said. The words seemed to snap the Stable Master out of some kind of trance. She held the riding britches open in front of me and said, "Step in dear." The woolen material was rough on my skin. I had to uncross my arms for balance and Auntie Helen took my elbow for support. In her crouched position Julia's face was really close to my crotch which felt so hot that it wouldn't have surprised me to see steam coming off it. She tugged the riding pants up into position, fastened the waistband closure and pulled up the zipper that were both located on the side. She ran her hands all over my lower body checking the fit. "Very nice," she proclaimed; "How do they feel?" "Fine," I replied as the older woman's hands continued to roam. It seemed the fit of the seat and crotch was particularly important because she concentrated her evaluation there. The warm pressure I'd been feeling below my tummy began to sort of pulsate by the time she stood up and held out the blouse. I turned my back and inserted both arms at the same time which threw my chest out toward my aunt who was standing there with a strange little grin on her face. The top was made of a soft white material much thicker than any clothes I had. It was pleated in the front like a formal shirt. As soon as I was buttoned up Julia told me to take a seat on the bench and inserted one foot after the other into the riding boots. The britches ended just below my knee but the boots, that felt too big, came up to cover. Last but not least she set the cloth covered helmet on my head and fastened the chin strap. "Well you certainly look the part ... see for yourself," Julia offered pointing to a full length mirror situated in the corner of the dressing room. It was quite a kick seeing myself dressed like a real horsewoman but knowing that I'd soon be sitting on one of those magnificent animals made it much sweeter. "Okay, let's get mounted up and we can show you some of the basics," Julia announced going through the door into the stable. Three horses were standing already saddled with their reins looped over the cleat beside the stalls. I drank in the heady, powerful aromas of the stable and followed our host to the first horse. Helen was already there stroking the white flash just below the eyes of the dark reddish brown mare. She pulled a couple of sugar cubes from her pocket and said, "This is Daisy," while she let the animal nibble them gently from her open palm. It was the closest I'd ever been to a horse and I was overwhelmed by how big it was—I was awestruck. "Stroke her right here, on the muzzle," Julia instructed. "She likes that." The hide over the boney face felt like velvet. "All God's creatures like to be stroked," Helen philosophized. "And this is Giselle," Julia announced. She had moved to the next stall and was stroking the muzzle of a brown and white filly that looked half the size of Daisy. " ... she's more your size," I stroked Giselle on the nose. Helen gave me some sugar for her. We led the horses out into the yard. Helen mounted up as smoothly as a cowboy in a western movie. "I'm going to take Daisy around one of the short trails," she announced and directed her horse toward a line of trees that stood just beyond the corral. Julia helped me mount up. With the trouble I had lifting my left foot into the stirrup and then swinging my right leg over came an increased respect for my aunt's skill. I was glad Giselle wasn't any bigger. When Julia put her hand on my bum to help me get the height necessary to mount my horse a rush passed through me. It wasn't until later, after the kick of being on a horse for the first time wore off, that I thought about how peculiar her hand position had been to deliver the boost. She'd put her hand directly between my legs and pushed up on my woo-woo instead of my butt. The stable owner taught me how to steer using my knees and the reins. Giselle was very cooperative and responsive so we got comfortable with each other in no time. I was almost giddy with excitement. Julia taught me how to speed the animal up by nudging her in the ribs with my heels. She told me that it was essential to keep most of my weight on my feet, not on my butt in the saddle. "As you go from a trot to a canter if you don't cushion the animal's motion with your legs it'll be very hard on your back," she instructed. She taught me how and when to roll my hips forward according to Giselle's motion. The trouble was that each technique she taught me made the saddle thump directly between my legs. By the time the lesson was over I was dizzy from the sensations. Helen returned and Julia mounted up so we could go on a trail ride. "Better keep this short Helen ... Vicki's muscles and butt aren't accustomed to riding, we don't want to get her so sore that she regrets the experience," our host cautioned. I tried to tell them that I was fine but it was a lie. Crossing the pasture to the forest even the walking motion of my mount was rubbing me the wrong way—or the right way—depending on your point of view. With my aunt in front and Julia behind we wound through the trees and reached a clearing. Daisy sped up and with no encouragement from me Giselle followed. I tried to practice the techniques Julia had taught me. The persistent bumping and rubbing between my legs was overwhelming. We reached the trees again on the return leg. The sensation created by pounding against the saddle was so powerful that it flooded my senses. I was amazed that I didn't fall off the horse. I'll never know how I managed to stay in the saddle. It was the most incredible wonderful feeling I'd ever had. The pressure kept building until I thought I was going to explode. If we hadn't arrived back at the barn just a couple of minutes later I was sure something—something amazing and marvelous—would have happened. I was suddenly so exhausted. Julia and I dismounted while Vicki stayed in the saddle. My teenaged ward's distant unfocused look told me what I wanted to know. "Thanks, honey," I said gratefully giving the stable master a hug and peck on the cheek. "Can you get Sophie to brush them down? I think I should get Vicki home now." Julia looked at our young riding companion and a knowing look came over her face. She saw the same thing I saw. "Of course dear ... not a problem." I looped Daisy's reins over the fence post. She wouldn't run away but if she saw a particularly succulent clump of grass she might wander. "How was that?" I asked my teenage houseguest. "It was ... it was ... wonderful," she sighed through her smile. "Wonderful but kind of tiring," I commented as I took Giselle's reins from her and handed them to Julia. "So you'd like to do it again?" I needlessly asked. Victoria nodded emphatically. "Okay dismounting is just the reverse of mounting," I instructed. "Put your weight on you left foot and swing you right leg over." I watched as my ward began the process asking the stable master; "Is it okay of we hang onto the riding habit ... we'll be using it again pretty soon." "Sure," Julia readily agreed. "Sophie's got two or three others she probably won't even notice it's missing." As my neighbor spoke I put my hand on Vicki's ass to support her as she dismounted. I hadn't really planned it. It was more of a reflex. I felt the heat of her girlhood through the thick material of the riding britches and wondered if I'd feel wetness if it weren't for the leather covering. The combination of the thought and the feel went straight to my head and my pussy simultaneously. She seemed a little wobbly and disoriented once she was on the ground. Taking her elbow I guided her to the Boxster for the short trip home. The contented looking smile never waned but her pretty blue eyes were looking droopy as the garage door rolled shut behind us. "Would you like to have some lunch or would you rather have a nap," I offered my tired looking passenger her options. "I think I'd better have a nap," she answered a little thickly. Guiding her to the guest bedroom I could feel the heat and anticipation building in me. Beside the unmade bed I efficiently unbuttoned the pleated front blouse and admired the precocious bust development again. Resisting temptation was no small feat but I managed to carry on unfastening and lowering the riding britches. From my crouch I caught her subtle aroma as she cooperatively stepped out of the borrowed pants. Looking at her mons pushing out the white cotton of her panties, the variation in tone at the center of her plump girlhood had only one likely cause. Pulling her panties down, I was treated to the best view yet of my guest's inner treasures as she obediently stepped out of them. The way the light from the window glistened on the sparse blonde curls was further evidence of the dampness—as if any was needed. It took more resolve than I thought I possessed to tear my eyes away and look up at her face. Her droopy eyes were now all but closed, but the half smile persisted. With her damp panties still hanging from my fingers I drank in the beauty of the naked fourteen year old. The urge was so powerful that I started to shake. 'Not like this!' my rational brain screamed. 'You don't want her half asleep ... you don't want to take her, you want her to surrender.' Touching the satiny smoothness of her upper arm I guided her into the bed and tucked her in. planting a light kiss on her forehead I said, "Sweet dreams dearest," and exited the room still holding her wet panties. |