A Rough Ride

The following story is part of the new M.K. Elliott short story collection, Some Love it Rough, which is schedule for a mid-June 2011 release.

Content advisory: mild BDSM and penetration with a crop.

Furious, Lillian pulled the saddle from her mare’s back and dumped it to the ground. The horse snorted and shifted in the stall, sensing Lillian’s anger. Her thighs ached from the long ride and a thin sheen of sweat covered the horse’s flanks.

Her husband was working late, again. At least that was the excuse he gave her, but she had to wonder exactly who he was working on. She wasn’t stupid. She knew the secret text messages and phone calls in the bathroom came from his secretary.

So she was left here, alone in this big house and acres of land. The stables kept her busy, but teaching the occasional lesson wasn’t how she’d thought her life would turn out. She’d imagined herself as an Olympic rider once, but now, at the ripe-old-age of twenty-nine, her career appeared to be over.

                                                                          

Marrying Spencer Albright had seen to that. He hadn’t wanted her to travel around, entering competitions. He liked to have her home, and, wowed by his success and money, and with the promise of building her very own stables, she’d allowed him to.

Outside the stall, the sun hung low and red in the sky, the heat from the day finally waning. The horizon blushed pink, promising another scorching day. Lillian picked up her hat and crop where she’d thrown them, intending to hang them up with the rest of her tack.

She’d been a fool. She should leave him, but she was scared. When she met him she gave up everything, she wasn’t sure if she knew how to be on her own anymore.

Movement from outside halted her actions. The horse stayed steady so she wasn’t worried. If it was a stranger, the mare would be snorting her worry.

The broad shoulders of their young stable hand blocked the doorway. His tousled blond hair brushed his square jaw as he tilted his head to the side, taking her in.

“Oh, Mrs. Albright,” he said, his blue eyes traveling down her body. “I didn’t think anyone would be here.”

“It’s okay, Ben,” she said, shifting awkwardly under his gaze. “What are you doing here?”

“I’ve lost my keys. I thought I might have dropped them in the stall.”

“I’ve not seen any, but feel free to take a look.”

He stepped into the stall, but then stopped. He studied her face, a frown marring his young brow.

“Hey, is everything alright?”

Lillian sighed, “What are you Ben? Nineteen, twenty?”

He grinned, “Twenty-two.”

“Twenty-two,” she repeated. “I can’t possibly explain the complications of marriage to you.”

He stepped toward her, closing the gap. “I might not know anything about marriage, but I know how to treat a woman. I’d know when I had someone amazing and I’d treat her right. I certainly wouldn’t be messing around on her.”

She bristled, “What do you know about someone messing around?”

“Mr. Albright’s secretary is a very attractive woman.”

“How would you know?”

Ben at least had the decency to look awkward, his foot scuffing the hay. “He’s brought her here when you’ve been out.”

“The bastard,” she hissed between gritted teeth.

He gave her a sympathetic smile, “You could do so much better.”

“Are you serious?”

His eyes roved down her body, taking in her curves. “Mrs. Albright. You have no idea how much better you could do.”

For the first time that day, a smiled played on her lips. The tension between them crackled. She’d always noticed the young stable-hand was seriously hot—she was a woman with eyes, after all—but she’d never imagined he’d be interested in her. She was ten years his senior.

The anger still raging through her body gave her new daring. “Would you like to show me?” she said.

Ben smiled back and reached out to take her hand. Lillian dropped her hat and slid her slim palm into his, his skin rough from hard labor. He tugged her into the hay stall beside the horse’s stable.

They stood, facing each other. Lillian’s heart pounded even harder than when she’d been pushing her mare to her limits.

Reaching out, he gently took her riding crop from her other hand. Using its tip, he trailed the crop up along the outside of her jean clad leg, and lightly whipped her on the bottom.

He grinned at her cheekily, his head tilted to one side.

She narrowed her eyes, “You do know I’m the boss?”

“Maybe it’s time for you to stop being the one in control and hand yourself over to me?”

“And what would you do with me, if you had me?”

He used the crop to lift up the bottom of her t-shirt, exposing her flat stomach. The gentle brush of the leather caused goose bumps to race across her skin. “Why don’t you let me show you?”

He nudged the bottom of her shirt again, “Take it off.”

Lillian’s breath caught in her chest. Hardly believing what she was doing, she crossed her hands at the bottom of the t-shirt and tugged it over her head. She stood before him, in only her white-lace bra and jeans.

Ben reached out and tweaked her nipple through the coarse material of her bra, sending shock waves through her, and she gave a little gasp of surprise. No longer did the young stable hand stand before her—this creature was all man.

“This too,” he said, using the crop to slide one strap from her shoulder.

With trembling hands, she reached behind her back and unclasped the bra, letting it fall to the floor. Her small, but round tits jutted out toward him, her nipples a dusky brown and already hard.

“Jesus,” he breathed. “You’re sexy as hell.”

Lillian allowed a smiled to touch her lips and arched her back, pushing her breasts out, lifting them. It felt good to be thought of as being sexy.

Ben tapped her hip lightly with the crop, “Touch your tits.”

“What if I don’t?”

He tapped her on her denim clad ass, this time with more force, but not enough to hurt. “I’d have to make you.”

A surge of lust tightened deep in her pussy. “Oh yeah?” her eyebrows raised.

“Yeah.”

                       

This time he struck the crop across her ass, hard enough to send a sting of pain across her buttocks. Lillian hissed air in between her teeth and a flash of panic ran across Ben’s rugged, but youthful features. “Is that okay?”

The sting subsided, leaving heat rising from her buttocks, leaving that area hyper-sensitive. “Yes, Ben. It’s more than okay.”

She reached up and cupped her breasts in her palms, feeling the smooth, soft skin, their firm weight. Pinching the sensitive nibs between her forefinger and thumb, she teased the nipples into hardened peaks.

Ben watched, his breath ragged. Her eyes ran down his solid frame, resting on his crotch where a thick line ran down one side of his jeans.

Fuck it; she wasn’t the only one who was sexy.

He nudged the fly of her jeans with the black leather. “I want to see the rest of you.”

Quickly, Lillian popped the button and unzipped her fly. Using her toes, she pulled off her shoes, before sliding the material down her slim thighs and stepping out.

She stood before him, naked except for her panties. She felt gloriously exposed—him still fully clothed, the whip still grasped in his strong hand.

Ben stepped forward, his gaze locked with hers. With one finger, he hooked the waistband of her panties, right above her bikini line, pinging the elastic. The flick stung her skin and she sucked air in between her teeth.

“You’re very brazen for someone so young,” she managed to say, her breathing heavy.

As if to prove her words, Ben slipped his hand into the front of her panties, his palm grazing her mound. He slid a finger along the seam of her lips, using her moisture to tease her open.

Lillian moaned as rubbed her wetness across her smooth pussy, lubricating every inch of her sex.

“Would you pay any attention to me if I was someone different?” he said. “Would we be standing here now if I played the meek boy and cowered when you said my name? I’ve seen the type of man who gets you going. I just want to see you with a strong man who also doesn’t also think he can treat you like shit.”

“And you’re a strong man?” she gasped as his finger pushed into her.

He spoke, his mouth close to her ear, “I can be whatever you want me to be.”

Her legs trembled and she reached up, gripped his shoulders for support as he slicked his finger back and forth.  “No,” he told her, spanking her ass with the crop still held in his other hand. “You stand upright.”

She did as she was told, forcing herself to stand up straight. Her thighs shook, the muscles in her stomach tight, her fists balled. Ben pushed a second finger inside her tight sheath and her muscles clenched against his digit. His thumb found her clit and he rubbed with a fast, flicking motion, in contrast with the slow, deep movement of his fingers.

“Oh God, I’m going to come,” she said as her pleasure grew as tight in her groin, pulsing steady waves outward.

Her orgasm washed over her as he fingered her, pushing hard and deep into her cunt, He kept his gaze focused on her, intense, and she cried out and whimpered, her hands reaching out to find something to hold onto.

Finally he caught her as her, just as her legs gave out from beneath her.

“We’re not done yet,” he said.

Half-carrying her, Ben draped her over a hay bale, her ass in the air. Slowly he, rolled her panties down her thighs. The material was soaking wet, the insides of her thighs slick with her own cream. Hay crushed beneath her breasts and stomach, slightly scratchy against her naked skin. Her sex was swollen, fully engorged and super sensitive.

He rested the cool whip against her hot ass. “Tell me you want me to whip you.”

“Yes, I want that. Whip me.”

The sharp sting of the leather lashed against her naked skin. Lillian moaned with each strike, squirming as he stood over her. She heard the sound of his zipper and twisted her neck to see Ben pull out his cock, hard and thick, and perfect. He wrapped the fingers of his spare hand around its girth and pumped himself, his hand slipping over his swollen head before moving back down.

“I want you inside me,” she gasped, her ass stinging, her pussy slick and desperate to be filled by a solid, stiff cock.

“No,” he said. “I’ve got something else for you.”

 Using the tip of the crop, he spread the swollen lips of her pussy, exposing her. The crop pulled away for a moment, then solid, cool leather, pressed against her opening. Carefully, he pushed the end of the handle into her, gently using her moisture to lubricate the way.

Lillian groaned. It was so cool in comparison to her hot flesh.

Gently, he slid the crop in and out. She felt every ridge slip between her swollen lips, her tight pussy taking all of it in. As she stretched to take its girth, he pushed harder and she grunted in response with each thrust, primal, guttural groans.

Lillian reached between her thighs, her fingers sliding over the swollen nub of her clit. The contact fired sparks as the hard length of the crop pumped in and out of her. She rubbed in frantic circles, knowing another orgasm was close.

Behind her, Ben continued to masturbate, she could hear the thwack, thwack, thwack of his fist pumping, slicking across the tight skin, his hardness just beneath the surface.

“Oh, fuck,” he gasped. “I’m going to come.”

Her pussy pulsated against the leather crop, her muscles gripping the handle tight, throbbing as her second orgasm ripped through her. Her toes curled, every muscle in her body tightening.

Hot cum splattering her skin, raining down over her back and buttocks. Ben cried out as he came, holding the crop steady inside her, allowing her own waves to flood over her again and again.

The crop slid from her body and Ben dropped it to the ground. Every muscle relaxed, exhausted, slumped across the hay. He nuzzled down behind her, his mouth against her neck. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her, still naked, against his body.

Ben flipped her around and kissed her mouth. Instantly, she responded to him, kissing him back, his mouth soft but firm, his tongue exploratory.

He grew hard against her again.

Lillian laughed, “I’d forgotten how quickly young guys recover.”

“Faster than you husband then?” he said, trailing kisses down her throat.

“Husband?” she said, feeling more alive and younger than she had in a very long time. “What husband?”

                                                                          

M.K. Elliott

Romance and Erotica with an edge...

Escape ~ Deadly Beauty ~ Some Love it Hot! ~ Rescued 

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Copyright © 2011 M.K. Elliott

All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.