My Husband's Lesbian Boss: Book 2: In the Saddle

by Amanda Clover

  My Husband’s Lesbian Boss

  Part 2: In the Saddle

  By Amanda Clover

  @amandasmut

  This book and all its contents are copyright 2017 by Amanda Clover. All rights are reserved and no portions may be reproduced unless for the use of brief quotations for review purposes.

  All characters appearing in this story are over the age of 18. This is a work of parody and any resemblance to real people or situations is coincidental.

  Escape to Fantasy

  The bed creaked beneath us with every one of Todd’s thrusts. His cock was hard, which was nice for a change I suppose, and he was on top of me, reminding me that he had put on quite a few pounds. His hardness worked in and out of me, brushing against my delicate folds and even hitting my clit when he pulled all the way out and thrust back inside me. A few minutes with the magic wand had ensured I was wet for him, but his grunting male presence was not making any of this easy for me.

  "Oh, baby, you're so good," groaned Todd as he fucked me. His strokes grew even heavier, making my perky breast jiggle slightly as the bed shook. His hips pressed into mine and I caressed his hairy chest. He tried to kiss me and I turned away from his lips.

  Sex had not been great with my husband for quite some time, but my steamy encounter with Todd's boss, Valerie Pryce, had opened me up to an entirely new world of desire. It was a world where Todd and his hairy, soft body were not part of the equation. My long suppressed lesbian urges had bubbled to the surface and the last place I wanted to be was underneath my husband on our marital bed.

  Maybe if it had been a man I had cheated on Todd with I might have felt guilt. Instead, I felt exhilarated when I thought about Valerie. It made my heart swell to remember her smile or to think back on the dirty texts we had shared with each other before and after that one afternoon together in her office.

  As Todd mounted me like a rutting walrus, my mind escaped to fantasy. She had invited me up north, to her farm upstate, to visit her and go horseback riding. I imagined us riding two white mares through the redwoods upstate, the forest canopy turning the summer sun cool against my skin. Todd moaned above me, but my mind was with Valerie, beside a cool stream where our horses had stopped for a rest. She wore a tank top with no bra and a flannel shirt tied around her waist. I imagined kissing her soft lips as she took off her cowboy hat. I picture her smiling against my kiss and I felt her tongue against mine as we embraced.

  My kiss traveled lower, my hands lifting up the tank top and exposing those lovely large breasts with her thick nipples. I imagined the way those nipples would bend beneath my tongue and the way my lips would pop as I sucked at her breasts.

  In reality, with Todd, my hand wandered lower and I began to rub my clit. Todd liked that. He said as much, I think, but his words were unimportant to me.

  "Ohhhh, yes," I gasped as I imagined my fingers were Valerie's, reaching down into my blue jeans and rubbing my clit as I licked and sucked her luscious breasts.

  In this steamy fantasy, I could not keep from going to my knees before Valerie. I remembered the way she had told me I had to serve her first the next time we met. She placed a stern hand on my head as I pulled her jeans and heart-speckled panties down. I pressed my face against those smooth, creamy thighs and breathed her feminine scent. It was so vivid, so real in my mind that I could almost completely shut out my husband talking dirty and thrusting atop me. In that real world, my fingers worked furiously at my clit, propelling me towards an explosive orgasm despite my husband's unwitting efforts to turn me off completely.

  He was far away from me, far away from that fantasy encounter beside the stream. In the shade of the redwoods, Valerie held me against her steamy cunt, jerking her hips and rubbing her folds against the curve of my eager tongue. I lapped at her clit, remembering how it bulged from the cusp of her flower, so much more prominent than my own. I sucked it and slid my fingers into her hot channel. I looked up at her, past those heaving breasts, bare and dappled with the pattern of sunlit leaves, and into those deep, dark eyes that spoke to me of true desire.

  "I'm going to cum," I gasped, my fingers sliding over and over my clit.

  My husband said something, but I only heard Valerie as she looked down in me and cradled my head against her hot, slippery folds. I could almost taste her nectar in my mouth. In the real world, I bite my lip and whined with the ecstasy of my release. My fingers and something inside me, throbbing... driving me over the edge. It was amazing, but as I opened my eyes I saw my sweaty, red faced husband, a sweat drop wobbling on the tip of his nose.

  "Ohhhh, fuck, Audrey!" He cried. "I'm cumming."

  I felt the gush of his semen deep inside me, filling me and overflowing my tightly-stuffed pussy. My asshole clenched reflexively as his cum leaked out of me and onto the sheets. All I could think was how gross it felt and how much I didn't want to clean all the sheets and comforter. My fantasy with Valerie in the forest, fueled by my real encounter with her in her office, was gone.

  "Oh, wow, baby," said Todd. "That was so hot. I haven't cum like that in months."

  I tried to force a smile on my face and seem happy that he was kissing me with his sweaty lips.

  "I have to get cleaned up," I said.

  "Yeah, yeah, right," he said. "You look so hot, sweetie. That glow of pleasure. You came, right?"

  "Yes," I said as I scooted out from under him and got up from the bed. I went into the bathroom and shut the door. I sighed, turned on the shower, and sat down on the toilet, shaken by the realization that I had to sleep beside Todd every night. My desire for Valerie, despite that naughty afternoon in Valerie's office, was almost as unfulfilled as my lust for my workout girlfriend Chelsea all those years ago. Lesbian desire had haunted me for most my adult life.

  My phone was on the counter in the bathroom. I picked it up and opened up my text messages. Nothing new from Valerie, just a flirty conversation we had two days ago. I had to reach out to her.

  "I want to see you," I texted.

  "Out of town right now," she replied quickly.

  "Todd just fucked me," I texted. "It was horrible."

  There was a long pause before she responded. Long enough that I started to question mentioning Todd having sex with me at all. Would that turn her off? Was she angry with me for doing it?

  "I know," she finally replied. "You are too good for him, Audrey. You deserve a woman to put you in your place."

  My heart beat a little faster to see her writing that way about me. She added, "On your knees."

  "Are we still on for horseback riding this weekend?" I texted.

  "Oh, absolutely," replied Valerie. "Do you have what you need?”

  I hadn’t given it much thought. I had leggings and a jacket I could wear, but nothing specifically made for horseback riding.

  “What do I need?” I asked.

  “You’re adorable,” she replied after a moment. “I have an account at Lariat Boutique, the equestrian shop downtown.”

  “I know it,” I texted. I had admired a fine pair of riding boots in the shop window once, but I had never had a reason to go inside the store.

  “Good. Ask for Cynthia. You will do whatever she asks and she will help fit you for your riding this weekend.”

  There was finality to the way Valerie commanded me that sent a thrill through my body. I thought of her breasts as I opened her blouse, her long, slender legs as I kissed her inner thigh, and her fingers and tongue exploring my body.

  I replied simply, “Yes.” She couldn’t see that my recent memories of her and my fantasies about our future encounter had me panting with desire. I stood before the mirror and
snapped a picture of myself, completely nude. It wasn’t enough. I leaned with the counter against my hips and crushed my perky tits together with my biceps, my elbows tucked against my side. It made taking a selfie more difficult, but it made my breasts look bigger. The shot included my face, wide-eyed with lust, biting my lower lip.

  It was hot, but it wasn’t enough. Not raunchy enough for my steaming lust for Valerie.

  I posed for another selfie, only this time I used the mirror and turned my back to it, bending forward and reaching one hand back to spread my firm buttocks. The shot of my pink asshole and my blushing peach of my pussy, glistening with moisture from my thoughts about Valerie, was far more obscene. Arranging the camera with one hand and the arch of my back to make my little ass look as juicy and inviting as possible was a fun game. After several misaligned attempts, I finally snapped a photo that worked for me.

  I dropped photos of both poses into a text message, my heart beating faster as I considered sending it. Finally, I added, “Will be thinking of you, Valerie.”

  It took a long time to send the pictures. So long that I was in the shower and missed the ding of her reply. I stepped out of the shower dripping wet and saw the message popup for a moment on my phone. I grabbed the phone, finding the screen barely responsive to my wet fingers. When I finally got the message open, I saw that she had texted back, “Naughty girl. You will have a special assignment when you go shopping tomorrow.”

  “Yes,” I replied with excitement. “Anything. What is it?”

  “I will leave it with Cynthia.”

  The fact that she was involving another woman without my permission or without me knowing this other woman should have made me uneasy. Instead, it made my tummy dance with butterflies. I wasn’t Valerie’s slave or anything, I could refuse her, but the thought of refusing her was far more upsetting than submitting to the unknown.

  “I will do it,” I replied.

  “Of course you will,” she texted back. “Have fun tomorrow, Audrey.”

  No matter what was about to happen to me, I had a pretty good idea I would have fun.

  The Scent of Leather

  It was the first time I have ever dressed up to go shopping. I wore three-inch heeled sandals, no bra, pink lace panties carefully chosen from my lingerie drawer, and a breezy summer dress that clung to my body and became transparent in the right light. I meticulously braided my hair and did my makeup. Something felt right about the braid that fell between my shoulders and pulled tight at my scalp. It was like my hair was in bondage. The braid looked great with the dress and I wanted to make a good impression with Cynthia.

  Lariat Fine Riding was located near the Chesapeake Hotel in downtown Peach Valley. I couldn’t see the deco façade of that grand hotel without picturing my steamy rendezvous with Valerie. The way she had taken control of me and showed me a path to sexuality I had spent most of my adult life repressing. I craved another meeting with her. Today, at least, the visit to the posh riding shop would have to suffice.

  The mannequins in the window of the shop were dressed in calfskin boots, breeches with padded thighs, velvet jackets, and smart-looking dressage helmets. A sign advertised “dressage and western saddles” and another promised “hand-made bridles.” The door jingled lightly as I entered, my high-heels clicking against the hardwood floors. The shop was appointed in blonde woods and the air carried the rich scent of leather. Saddles, reins, bridles, stirrups, and all manner of more unusual horseback equipment filled the shop, but the store was still feminine, with a definite style to the displays that catered to female sensibilities.

  I ran my finger over the back of a western saddle with a flowery design worked into the leather, red stained roses and golden star tacks finished the overlapping pieces of dark chestnut leather. The smell of it was almost intoxicating. My eyes were drawn from the saddle to the heavy bull-whips and lighter dressage lashes that hung from a nearby wall. I focused on a riding crop of red leather with a pink flap at the tip. I imagined Valerie holding the crop and pushing my head down to the floor as she swung it against my bare buttocks. I could almost hear the snap against my tender flesh and feel the radiating burn of each lash.

  “The crop is exquisite.” This was spoken in a rather deep woman’s voice so close behind me it seemed to be in my ear. I stiffened, gasped softly, and turned to face the speaker.

  Cynthia was an attractive, well-built woman in late middle-age. She was a bit heavyset, but she wore it well in her tight-fitting breeches, high end boots, and equestrian fleece unzipped to reveal her ample cleavage. She wore her dark hair up in a bun, her temples lightly graying. Her large, blue eyes regarded me with what seemed to be amusement and her lips curled into a tight smile.

  “You must be Audrey,” she said.

  “Um, yes, that’s me,” I said and we shook hands. I wondered how she knew who I was. Had Valerie provided Cynthia with a description of me or a picture? Perhaps more than one picture?

  “I am Cynthia Kotze. Miss Pryce is one of my very best customers. She has told me so much about you.” She put a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “Shall we begin? Penny!”

  Another woman approached from a back room. Penny was slender, dark-haired, well-dressed in a short, dark skirt and a white sleeveless blouse. She was also quite young, maybe even a teenager, with large glasses and delicate features that revealed an Asian heritage. Although she offered a bright smile, there was something about the way she glanced at Cynthia that hinted at more than merely a working relationship.

  “Miss Pryce explained that you are not very experienced, so I think we should start simply.” Cynthia gestured to one of the mannequins in full dressage costume. “Dressage is an elevation of horseback riding to the highest ideals of training and companionship between rider and horse. The horse obeys so completely that it becomes an extension of the rider’s desires. There should be no need for digging in the heels or lashing with a crop. Not once the horse has been trained, at least.”

  “I don’t think I’m going to be training a horse,” I said.

  “Oh? Borrowing then. Miss Pryce has several horses that will take to you easily, so long as you exude confidence and strength.” Cynthia and Penny led me over to the dressage clothing. “Let us get you into an outfit. Something that will feel like a second skin.”

  Cynthia and Penny did not allow me to actually choose any part of the outfit. They glanced at me repeatedly, walking from rack to rack, murmuring to one another, picking up breeches, blue jeans, jodhpurs, blouses, several pairs of boots, jackets, vests, and even something that looked more like a sports bra than outerwear. As Cynthia picked something out, she handed it to Penny, who would transport it back to a large, fully-enclosed dressing room.

  During this process, Cynthia established a complete ownership of my personal space. She sized me up with her hands on my hips, my buttocks (“Quite firm.”), cupping my soft breasts (“No, bra? Naughty girl”), and even wrapping her hands around my neck as if to choke me (“We want a well-fitted collar, don’t we?”). Any attempt to speak or jerk away from her was met with a hiss of, “Be still, dear.”

  Her words reminded me that Valerie had given me specific instructions to obey Cynthia. I tried to remain perfectly still even as the older woman crouched before me, running her hand up and under my skirt, along my inner thigh. Her hand brazenly cupped my mound through my panties. She gave me a squeeze that caused me to suck in a breath through my teeth.

  “Enjoying this, dear?” Cynthia chuckled and stood up.

  “N-no, I, um, just wasn’t expecting you to be so… thorough.”

  “All in order to find that right fit,” said Cynthia, standing very close to me. I could see the wrinkles at the corners of her mouth and the edges of her eyes. She appeared older so close, but still possessed a stern beauty that such imperfections could not spoil. “There is nothing in life quite like going horseback riding in the proper attire. It is almost…sexual.”

  “That’s… ah…”

  “I
think we have everything,” she said and turned away from me. “Come, Penny, let us get her fitted.”

  The slender young assistant took me by my arm and walked me behind Cynthia into the huge and suddenly slightly ominous dressing room. Inside were walls of darker wood and framed paintings of equestrian excellence. It took me a moment to realize that the women in all the paintings were riding bare-breasted. They looked otherwise so sensible in their breeches and high boots that for a moment I wondered if this might actually be the proper garb for dressage; some secret dress code done away with for Olympic equestrian events.

  The loud noise of Penny pulling the door shut and latching it startled me out of my vision of bare-breasted women riding dressage and jumping events.

  “Undress completely,” said Cynthia, looking me up and down.”Quickly, please.”

  Her serious, matter-of-fact tone and the hardness in her blue eyes were more motivating than a crop across my bare bottom. I shed the sundress without hesitation, the soft fabric catching for a moment on my pert breasts and the sensitive buds of my erect nipples. I revealed my breasts to Cynthia and Penny and received a slight smile from Penny and nothing, no reaction at all, from Cynthia. I stepped out of my heels as I left the dress pooled on the floor.

  I reached for my panties and Cynthia snapped, “Pick those things up. We do not leave clothes on the floor like a sloppy brat.”

  “Yes, right,” I said, my face going hot with embarrassment as I crouched to pick up the dress and my high-heeled shoes. Penny provided me with a hanger for the dress and directed me to place the shoes in one of many small alcoves built into the dark walls. I received an impatient look from Cynthia and so hastened to remove my pink panties. I stepped out of them, baring my pussy, firm bottom, and long, slender legs completely. Penny picked them up from the floor before I had the chance. She held my panties up to Cynthia, who leaned forward slightly and sniffed.