Sarahs first love
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Sarah’s Stallion Ch. 02 free porn video
This is a continuation of Chapter 1. You might want to read it, to pick up some important details.
I want to thank LadyFalcon for her assistance by making constructive comments and editing this story.
* * * * * * *
The day of my graduation, and a couple days after, were very busy. Mom invited my out-of-state aunt and uncle, plus my young male cousin, to my graduation. They stayed with us for two more days. Sarah’s mom hosted a graduation party for her with some of her relatives, including her grandfather. Sarah and I would have preferred to have been together without the parties, but our parents wanted to celebrate our passing another of life’s milestones.
I’ll never forget the phone call I received from Sarah the evening of her graduation party. It sounded like she was in tears, but she was laughing, and screeching, and yipping, all at the same time.
‘Sarah, calm down. What are you trying to tell me?’
‘When Grandpa heard I didn’t get my scholarship, he said he’d loan me the money for college.’ She seemed breathless and overjoyed.
‘Oh Sarah, I’m so happy for you!’ I was–I couldn’t have been happier for her.
Sarah related that Arthur told her he’d finance her college education on the condition that she honestly study to the best of her ability. He said that when she became a veterinarian, she could repay his loan. He hoped that by becoming a veterinarian, she would help take care of his prized horses.
I realized that Sarah and I would now be attending the University of Illinois together. We’d be able to see one another every day–I thought maybe we’d even be in some of the same classes. Things were looking up for both of us.
Earlier in the year, Dad told me he’d pay my college tuition, if I’d help him take care of the apple orchard and prune the Christmas trees. I was going to be his hired hand for the summer. Now that school was over, it was time to go to work.
The third day after graduation, it dawned warm and sunny. I was helping Dad spray the apple orchard, when something went ‘clunk’ in the sprayer. Dad stopped the tractor and checked the sprayer pump. He said the pump was broken and he needed to drive to town to find a replacement. ‘Son, it looks like you’re going to have the rest of the day off.’
Dad and I went back to the house and Mom fixed an early lunch. Later, I called Sarah.
I told Sarah Dad’s sprayer was broken and he’d gone to town to find a new one. ‘I have the rest of the day off. Can I come over?’
‘Sure sweetie, I was about to exercise Pegasus and Ardmore this afternoon.’
‘Ardmore?’
‘Oh I forgot to tell you–Kathy’s grandma isn’t very well, and her family drove to Chicago to see her yesterday. We’re boarding Ardmore for several days until they come back.’
There was a long pause on the other end of the line. ‘Steve, why don’t I saddle both horses and you can ride Ardmore? He’s gentle. I’ll see you in thirty minutes. Love you–bye.’
Before I could respond, Sarah hung up. That was unlike her. She and I could usually talk for an hour. I hadn’t seen her since graduation, so I was looking forward to spending some time with her again. However, I wasn’t interested in horseback riding. Although Sarah had let me ride Pegasus several times around their barnyard, I was still a novice rider. I could see myself being embarrassed or hurt by being thrown off. What I needed was an excuse to get out of horseback riding, but I couldn’t think of a good one.
After I hung up, Mom walked into the kitchen where we kept the phone. I told her Sarah wanted me to go horseback riding with her. She said, ‘Sarah only has one horse.’
‘Sarah’s keeping Kathy’s horse for a few days, and she said I could ride him.’
‘That’s nice. You really ought to try it. I remember horseback riding with your father on our honeymoon. It was a lot of fun. Enjoy yourself, and be careful.’
I went to our apple storage cellar and chose a couple blemished apples for the horses, and a couple nice ones for Sarah and me. By the time I arrived in Kolb’s barnyard, Sarah was dressed for riding. She was wearing jeans, riding boots, a cowgirl hat, and a gray t-shirt with purple letters that said ‘Purina Horse Chow’ on the back. Sarah had already saddled Pegasus with her saddle and Ardmore with Kathy’s.
When she saw me carrying the apples, she said, ‘Give me those and I’ll put them in the saddlebag with the other stuff. I brought along a small thermos of iced tea.’
I held them out to her. ‘The two blemished apples are for Pegasus and Ardmore. The nice ones are for us.’
She gave me a peck on the cheek. ‘You are always so thoughtful. You were even thinking of the horses.’
Just before we departed, Sarah’s dog Abby came running to us and was underfoot. Sarah said she’d have to tie Abby to her dog house before we left. Otherwise, she’d follow us on our horseback ride.
I mounted Ardmore and Sarah adjusted the stirrups on Ardmore’s saddle to match the length of my legs. Finally she mounted Pegasus and we started down the tree-lined, dirt lane toward the road. We could hear Abby’s yips of protest as we rode away.
Sarah said, ‘Since you haven’t ridden much, we’ll take it slow. Ardmore is more than happy to tag along behind Pegasus.’ The horses set off at a walk down Kolb’s lane with Pegasus in the right wheel rut and Ardmore in the left. Ardmore seemed to like a position where his nose was abeam Sarah’s saddle horn, so I was almost beside Sarah.
‘Sarah, do you know how Ardmore received his name?’
‘Oh, he was raised on a farm near Ardmore, Oklahoma. That was his name when Kathy got him.’
I thought about it for a few seconds, and said, ‘It’s good he wasn’t raised on a farm near Floyd’s Knobs, Indiana.’
Sarah laughed, ‘Or near Intercourse, Pennsylvania.’
We continued our banter until we reached the road. Sarah said, ‘Let’s go left toward the creek.’
To the left, the narrow dirt road sloped gently down to a small bridge across the creek, through a valley, and ascended more steeply up the other side. It was deeply wooded on both sides of the road. The tops of many tall trees grew together above the road near the bridge, making an arch high above the road. The sun, shining through the leafy canopy, left dappled patterns on the dusty road beneath the trees. It was like riding through a leafy tunnel.
Sarah let Pegasus choose his own pace downhill to the bridge. He’d started to trot, with Ardmore and me on his left. I noticed that, even though she was wearing a bra, every time Sarah’s butt hit the saddle, her breasts bounced. It was fun watching those pert orbs spring up and down in cadence with Pegasus’ trot.
In no time, I sported an erection–rather uncomfortable, because it kept rubbing on the front of my jeans. I was trying to adjust my jeans when Sarah turned toward me and started to say something. She saw I was ogling her breasts, I’d been caught.
‘Like what you see, Steve?’
‘Um–yeah–and you have a cute butt too.’
‘Aren’t you a naughty boy?’
We rode on for a few more yards past the bridge. I’d failed to notice that she’d reined in Pegasus and he’d stopped. When Ardmore didn’t see Pegasus ahead anymore, he stopped on his own. I twisted around in the saddle to see what had happened to Sarah. She took off her hat, and pulled her t-shirt over her head. Then she calmly removed her bra.
Sarah had beautiful breasts. They weren’t large, but nice-sized, about the size of small coffee cups. They were nicely rounded and perky, with nipples that stood out, reminding me of the pink erasers on the fat pencils they give first-graders. Her nipples were surrounded by light pink areolae the size of silver dollars.
Sarah put her t-shirt and hat back on. Then she dropped her bra into the saddlebag, and urged Pegasus on. The rural roads around our farm were little-traveled, so Sarah wasn’t concerned she’d be
caught. It was unlikely anyone else would pass this way for hours.
As Sarah passed by, she said, ‘Steve, the look on your face was precious. If you’re going to stare, I’ll give you something to stare at.’
I shot back, ‘It looks like I’m not the only naughty one.’
Off we went again at a trot, with Ardmore closely following Pegasus. Sarah’s breasts were really bouncing, and I was thoroughly enjoying the show. When we reached the uphill slope, Pegasus slowed to a walk. A few yards more and Sarah stopped him next to one of our farm gates. She dismounted and opened the gate, leading Pegasus through.
‘Steve, are you coming?’
‘Sure. Now I know where you’re going.’
We were about to visit ‘our rock.’ I nudged Ardmore forward and Sarah closed the gate behind him when we’d passed through it. We were on the wagon track which meandered along the creek to a low water crossing on our farm where we forded the creek with the tractor and wagon.
When we were kids, Sarah and I spent a lot of time playing in and along the creek. We waded, caught minnows and crawdads, climbed the sycamore trees, or picnicked on a large granite rock beside the creek. We always claimed the rock was ‘our rock.’
‘Our rock’ was a mottled, gray granite monolith with streaks of pink in it. When the sun hit it, there were many sparkles that reflected from tiny quartz crystals in the rock. It was gently rounded on top, the size of a large school bus laying on its side. The end furthest from the creek stuck out of the soil nearly six feet, but the low end was about 18 inches above the water. The rock was obviously out of place–probably left there by a glacier thousands of years ago. It was the only granite rock in Jackson township that I was aware of. Dad once told me he thought the rock must have been special to native Americans, because we’d found numerous arrowheads and some pottery shards near it.
A couple hundred yards from the road, the granite rock was in a secluded glen where the creek made a sweeping horseshoe bend. In the center of the horseshoe was a wildflower-filled meadow. Queen Anne’s Lace, Brown-Eyed Susans, and Chicory all vied to put on the best flower show. There was a limestone cliff nearly forty feet high on the opposite side of the creek from the granite rock. The cliff was covered with moss and a few scrub trees grew out at crazy angles. After a heavy rain, water would dribble out of limestone rock layers into the creek, making bubbles that drifted downstream.
Sarah and I hadn’t visited the granite rock in several years. It brought back memories–we used to lie on the rock, watching summer clouds or a solitary hawk lazily soaring overhead. One time when we visited the rock, I wove a garland of wildflowers for Sarah’s hair and she wore it home. Another time, Sarah showed me how to make little boats from sycamore leaves, which we let float down the creek.
The wagon track snaked across the meadow, past two huge cottonwood trees, some scrub oaks, and a thicket of willows. It continued near three mature sycamore trees on the creek bank near the rock. One of the sycamores leaned, with some of its lower limbs reaching over the granite rock.
Sarah reined in Pegasus near the first sycamore, dismounted, and tied him to a small tree trunk. I did the same, tying Ardmore to another small tree several feet away. Both horses were in the shade, there was plentiful grass to graze on, so they were happy–swishing flies with their tails.
Sarah removed Pegasus’ saddlebag, laid it on the ground, and gave the horses the two blemished apples. Then she removed Pegasus’ saddle.
‘Steve, you can remove Ardmore’s saddle too. We’ll put them aside for a while. I don’t like to keep them saddled for long periods of time, especially when it’s warm like this.’
Sarah swiftly removed Pegasus’ saddle and saddle blanket. I was still fumbling with Ardmore’s saddle, when Sarah came around his rump carrying the saddlebag and Pegasus’ saddle blanket. I glanced up and there she was, in that t-shirt, with her taut nipples holding the bottom of her t-shirt off her flat tummy. I couldn’t resist staring at her breasts.
When she saw where my eyes focused, she said, ‘Now I know why it’s taking you so long with Ardmore’s saddle. Hurry up–don’t you want your graduation gift?’ She stopped and faced me. Then she lifted the front of her t-shirt up to her neck and back down in a flash. She continued on toward the rock.
By the time I removed Ardmore’s saddle, Sarah was already at the granite rock. The sun was shining on the end of the rock hanging over the creek, but the higher end was shaded by sycamore leaves. She placed the saddle blanket on the shaded end and smoothed it out. She kicked off her riding boots, socks, and jeans.
When I reached the rock, Sarah was wearing only her t-shirt and a pair of white cotton panties. She sat down on the rock and removed our two apples, the small thermos of iced tea, two towels, and a couple condoms from the saddlebag.
I followed Sarah’s example and stripped down to my t-shirt and boxers and sat down next to her. As she was placing a towel on the saddle blanket, she said, ‘Steve, remember in the barn when I said I always wanted our first time to be with candles, romantic music, and a fireplace?’
‘Yes, why?’
‘We’ve always said this rock was special to both of us. I think it’s the right place, don’t you?’
My choice of place wasn’t as important as Sarah’s, but I agreed we always thought the rock was special.
‘I’m sure we couldn’t have found a better place.’
I looked at the items she had removed from the saddlebag. ‘You certainly prepared the most delightful picnic.’
She laughed her girlish laugh. ‘Guess what you’re getting for dessert?’
‘Do I have three guesses?’
‘No, silly boy. Come here and kiss me.’
I reached for her and she rolled back on the towel, pulling me on top of her. Sarah gave me the most delightful kisses. We kissed breathlessly for some time. Her lips were incredibly soft and her kiss was sensual–our tongues explored each other’s mouths. It was the best kiss I’d ever shared with her.
Somehow we ended up lying on our sides, facing each other. Her t-shirt rode up and I took the opportunity to put my hand under it, on her breast. My fingers found one of her nipples and I tweaked it between my thumb and finger. She let out the most pleasurable moan. Then she rolled away from me, and pulled her t-shirt over her head. Seeing her without her t-shirt, I sat up and joined her by removing mine. Her nipples were standing up, looking like turgid, pink raspberries. I hadn’t been aware how stiff my erection became, but could feel it poking through the opening in my boxers.
The next thing I knew, she had pushed me on my back and was on her hands and knees on top of me with her lovely breasts dangling just inches from my nose. She kissed me on the forehead, but instead of returning her kiss, I twisted and caught a nipple with my lips. She pulled back, surprised, and it slipped from my mouth.
She laughed and teased me by leaning forward again, letting me touch one with my tongue. It tasted salty–but after all, she had been riding on a hot day, and I could ignore that.
The skin on her breasts was velvety smooth and softer than I ever imagined. Her nipples were rigid. I reached for the other nipple, and when she sensed what I was reaching for, she turned slightly so I could touch it with my tongue. When I flipped her nipple with my tongue, she took in an involuntary gasp as if she had slipped off the high end of the rock. I was finally able to grasp her nipple between my lips.
‘Oh…Steve that feels incredible.’
I couldn’t talk with her nipple in my mouth, so I mumbled something like, ‘Mmmff.’
After suckling her nipples and twiddling them with my tongue, I rolled her onto her back and started kissing her on the mouth and neck. I worked down her shoulders, across her
chest and breasts and planted some kisses at the top of her panties.
‘That tickles.’
Even though it must have been 85 degrees, I noticed goose bumps on her arms and tummy. She wrapped her arms around my head as I went back to nibbling her nipples.
Her breathing became irregular. She closed her eyes, and opened her mouth, saying, ‘Oh…oh…Steve.’ Then I felt her hand groping along the top of my shorts as if she was trying to push them down. I helped her by removing them. When I reached under her hips, she lifted her bottom so I could remove her panties. We were now both naked and I was kneeling beside her. What a stunning view–I’d never seen a woman naked before.
I quickly scanned her body from the silky brown hair on top of her head to her dainty toes. Her head was turned to the side and I could see her profile. She had such long eyelashes, a cute turned-up nose, and sweetly pouted lips that I loved to kiss. Her long pony tail trailed across her soft shoulder. As I scanned downward across her collarbone and smooth chest, my eyes stopped to take in the view of her lovely breasts with those kissable nipples as they heaved up and down with each of her pleasured breaths.
Her tummy was taut and well-muscled. At the top of her thighs, there was an exquisite mound covered by a wispy brown bush. In the center of the bush was an inviting valley. How I wanted to explore the valley. Beyond the valley of my dreams were two shapely thighs, and two attractive feminine calves and feet. I couldn’t recall a more beautiful view. Of course the view had its effects on me–I’d never ever felt a stiffer erection.
Sarah opened her eyes and said to me in an dreamy way, ‘Steve, I love you. I love the way you make me feel.’
‘Sarah, I love you too.’
She squeezed my penis, and before I had a chance to react, I’d ejaculated a couple times on her rib cage and stomach. She gave me a startled look. I was as surprised as she was.
‘I’m sorry Sarah. I didn’t mean to cum on you–it just happened.’
She put her hand on her stomach and felt around. ‘Kind of icky, isn’t it?’
‘Sarah, I’m so sorry.’
It wasn’t the way I’d fantasized sex with her would be. I wanted to be the ardent stud, who brought her to an unending series of powerful climaxes while I ravished her beautiful body. In short, I wanted to be Sarah’s stallion, and she would be my filly. Now I was embarrassed, my penis was limp as a wet noodle, the mood had been broken.
She sat up and kissed me on the cheek. ‘It’s OK. It was kind of cute the way you squirted. I’ll wash it off in the creek.’
Sarah stood up and tiptoed to the end of the rock at the creek. My eyes were riveted on her lovely behind as she walked. The rock stuck out of the water a little more than a foot. She sat down on the rock and scooted off into the gravel-bottomed creek. The water was little more than ankle-deep there. As she bent over to wash off, it was as if I’d seen her naked somewhere before. Ah yes, I remembered. She was nearly a mirror image of the lovely maiden in the September Morn painting, except Sarah wore a ponytail. What an irresistible, feminine figure. I asked myself how I was so lucky to have a girl this beautiful?
I joined her in the creek, several feet away. I don’t recall if I splashed her, or she splashed me, but in a few seconds we were kicking the cool, spring-fed, creek water at each other like a couple of kids. We soaked each other. She squealed and started to run away, but I caught her from behind and grabbed her around the waist and stopped her. I placed my arm behind her knees, and swept her off her feet, with her arms around my neck. She turned her head toward me and I pulled her closer until I could kiss her.
With her mouth close to mine, I searched her open mouth with my tongue, and she did the same. When we came up for air, she said, ‘You’d better put me down before we both fall in the creek.’
I carried her to the rock and sat her on it with her feet dangling in the water. In her nakedness, her soft skin covered with drops of water that sparkled like diamonds, she was more beautiful than I’d ever dreamed. She looked up at me, and her sweet smile was melting me as much as butter melts in the summer sun.
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