“Just on vacation,” she explained. “I have a full stash at the apartments in New York and Paris.”
“I see,” he said and crossed his arms.
“Are you waiting for instruction?”
“No,” he said quickly. “Just, um, trying to figure out what to do with you now.”
Opening her arms wide, she posed, accentuating her breasts. “I’m at your full disposal.”
“Something is missing here…” He turned and headed for the tack room. On his return, he waved the crop in his hand victoriously. “Here we go!”
Just like a horse, January scuffed her foot against the stable floor and kicked up some hay behind her. With a whinny, she lowered her head.
Several long moments passed, and January didn’t dare look up at him. She could hear his sigh and the shuffle of his nervous feet. Nigel stepped closer. “I’m, uh…well…a little stumped here.”
“Just pretend I’m Nessa or Nellie!” she told him.
“Oh, I can’t do that! They’re my babies!” he retorted. “I can’t.”
“Alright…one of the boarders,” she suggested. “The naughty, wild boarder that escapes every time you allow her to play in the fields…”
Nigel closed his eyes to picture it, and he thought hard as January continued to goad him.
“She’s already made a mess of her stall. Slopped her trough. The hay is all wet. And she took a massive dump that you have to clean. And it’s not even seven in the morning yet.”
Eyes popping open, he pointed the crop at her. “Are you a good horsy or a bad horsy?” he asked. “And what are we going to do with your tail?”
Out of the side of her mouth, she whispered, “Lube. In my bag. Behind you.”
“I will not go in your purse again. We have already had this discussion.”
“Sheesh, Nigel…” she groaned as she dug through the small bag. “Look—shades, lube and condoms—and you’re welcome.”
From his shirt pocket, he pulled out a couple packets of his own. “No, you’re welcome, January,” he corrected her. “Fucking condoms. That’s what I should crop you for.”
“What was I supposed to do, Nigel? Run to the clinic in town and say, ‘Hey, I’m fucking the really hot Englishman at the chateau up the road. Can you hook a sister up with an IUD?’”
As he shoved the condoms back in his pocket, he laughed. “Don’t do this to me when I’m trying to be fierce.”
“Or maybe I’ll go old school, and I can ask for a diaphragm…”
“January, get your pants off,” he said suddenly. “But put your boots back on.” Really, Nigel didn’t want her running around in her bare feet and getting hurt in the stables. However, once she stood before him in just her lace and leather, he decided he liked the look.
“I have my very own tack boutique at home in Paris,” she said.
“Why am I not surprised?” Turning again, he raised his hand as if he’d just thought of something brilliant and disappeared again. “Take your panties off. Leave the bra. And close your eyes.”
Intrigue nearly killed her, but she did as she was told. After all, he was the Master of this scene, and she had to trust his intuitions. She could hear him scuttling around in search of something, and then causing a ruckus when he returned to the stables. The clang and jangle of metal echoed in the near distance.
When he placed his hands around her waist, his voice soothed her. “Just follow me and listen to what I tell you to do. It won’t hurt, I promise.”
Giggles rolled from her lips. “Damn!”
“Well, not yet, anyway. Will you have some patience? I’m new at this.” Guiding her along, he led her to just the perfect spot. “Get down on your hands and knees. I’ve got you here…”
Beneath her feet, her footing softened with a thick cushion. Once she got into position, she felt the warmth of the wool.
“It’s just riding blankets,” he explained. “I want you to be comfortable.”
Scenarios and techniques could always be learned, but Nigel’s constant need to take care of her separated him from many men who attempted to play the Dom.
“Thank you, Nigel…” she whispered with her head bowed in submission.
“Maestro…”
While she teased him that he had to earn his name, January feared the intimacy. She wished she could only tell him that he was her Maestro, strumming the most beautiful music from her body. Nicknames, however, carried a sense of familiarity that might disappear come morning. She didn’t want to leave him, and she had to distance herself in whatever tiny ways she could.
“Nigel…”
“One day, maybe…” he muttered to himself and then bent down to take the tail and lube from her hand. “Should we set some safewords here?”
His thoughtfulness elated and impressed her. “You’ve been reading, haven’t you?”
“Of course, I have. I didn’t get a wink of sleep the night after I dropped you off from the bar. I went home, and I pulled out my iPad to do some digging into this,” he said. “I know this is something that turns you on, but I don’t want to hurt you—regardless of how long you’ve been practicing.”
January paused to think for a moment. “How about just Stop, Go and Yield for now?” They could get creative later…if later ever arrived.
“So, may I saddle you?”
“You can do whatever you’d like,” January told him. “I trust you.”
Nigel certainly knew how to fasten her up, and even though the saddle was huge, she managed to balance it on her back. The heavy weight of the leather against her skin thrilled her. She hadn’t played so down and dirty in forever, and everything—from the rustic stable to the leather straps pressing into her stomach—set her nerve endings on fire.
“Now, I seem to have this tail here…” Nigel hesitated while he studied the plug. “Would my little pony like to have it back?”
“Neigh! Neigh!”
“Um, question.”
January swiveled for a moment to face him. “Yes?”
“Does neigh mean no in horseplay?”
Moments like these with Nigel made her heart skip a beat. “Oh, no—it’s my happy response—like a cat purring,” she clarified. “You should worry when I whinny.”
“Worry when you whinny?” His deep breath whistled as he siphoned the stream of air through his gritted teeth. “Got it.”
Widening her legs as a reminder to his task at hand, January braced herself against the blanket.
Nigel, though, surprised her again by first separating her lower lips to slide his fingers inside her to bathe in her wet core. Often, January didn’t need any artificial lubrication, but she knew he wanted to be cautious with her for now. As he slipped in and out, coaxing her to drown in her own desires, she felt the nervous tension lift from her body, only to fill with a new strain of lust.
Choreography played into his every move. Nigel drove her responses with his deep caresses. His occasional flick to her clit was intentional, giving her one sweet shock of satisfaction before his fingers coasted onward.
Daringly, Nigel brushed his thumb over her tiny pink hole, tickling over the sensitive skin. The faint touch didn’t remain unnoticed by January. She pressed her cheeks together around his hand, silently begging him for more.
When his tongue took over to tease here there, she squeaked in both surprise and pleasure. Swirling and circling, he dizzied her with his exploration, making love to her ass—licking, nipping and sweeping with his mouth, teeth and tongue. All consumed by his tender attention, January almost collapsed.
“How are you?” he asked but continued to tease her delicately with his lips.
“Ohhh…” she called out with a simultaneous sigh. “Neigh, neigh…neigh…”
Inhibition had left him. He could taste her sweet nectar, as her desire dribbled on his chin, and he lost himself completely in January. Her ass, her clit—he wanted it all, and he wanted it at once. They had no time to waste…and they had to hurry before the s
table hands made their appearance.
Moving away for just a moment, he turned his attention to the lube as January’s cries of disappointment resonated throughout the old barn. Lathering his fingers with the slippery gel, he sat back for a look at her from behind, determined to memorize her body from every angle.
Intense pleasure filled her as he worked just one finger inside her, inching slowly. Nigel watched her reaction. The tightening of her ass charged him with a dose of arousal that he hadn’t anticipated. January was just so free in her sexual needs, and in so many ways, she brought his own desires to the surface. Together, they burned with such fierce need for each other that nothing seemed to matter anymore. She’d freed him from his own self.
Now, though, he just had to see the tail, even if to satisfy his own curiosity. He took a moment to lube the plug, and then he stopped to ask, “Is the horsy ready?”
Nigel felt like he had one chance left to show her how much he needed her—and how much she meant to him. He didn’t want to disappoint her now.
“Neeeeigh…”
January could feel his hand trembling as he pressed the plug against her. To help him, she pushed back, allowing the tip inside her, and then she moaned in pleasure and begged for more.
“More?” he asked suddenly. “Yes, of course…more…because…horsy needs her tail.”
“Don’t make me whinny…”
“Excuse me, but horses don’t speak.”
“Guess you didn’t see Mr. Ed in the United Kingdom…”
She had to make this moment light for him. Otherwise, she feared he might run out of the barn and never come back.
He held his hand to his ear. “Come again?”
“Shove that plug all the way up my ass, and you’ll see me come again…”
“No, no, no!” With each word, he smacked himself in the thigh. “January, I was trying to be serious—and more…Dommy.”
“Hey, watch the plug, Dommy!” Her attempt to distance herself dissipated in the face of an epic fail: she’d resorted to giving him a nickname. For now, Nigel was her Dommy. “Don’t want it to fall on the barnyard floor here.”
Collecting himself, he stood up straight and held the plug steady without pushing it in further. “Need I remind you that this was your idea, and as a gentleman, I am trying to be hospitable in my domain.”
“Dommy’s Domain—I think you need a stable sign,” she teased. “What would your parents say?”
“Stop it!” And he just lost patience and cracked her ass. “Oh, that felt…well…different…but good, really. Yes, it felt good.”
“Don’t I know it. Do it again.”
“I believe we need to attend to your tail first.” Although he’d shocked himself with his rash reaction, Nigel couldn’t deny the instant power rush that striking her brought him. “Now, hold still, will you?”
“Neigh…”
However, Nigel had other issues to attend—like that sweet ass with a lopsided tail poking right up at him. He had to fix it, gently but quickly.
The wild faux horsehairs tickled his hand while he filled her with the entire length of the plug. Gyrating her hips, January performed with full equestrian bravado, neighing and bouncing about as if she were about to gallop away. When Nigel grabbed her by the saddle, she pulled away from him.
January loved to provoke her sexual partners with her naughty behavior. Naturally, she wanted to see just how far she could push Nigel. This was baptism by fire, and he had to move past his hesitations.
“You know, one thing I won’t tolerate in my stable is an ungroomed horse,” he said suddenly, surprising her with his earnest attempt to reclaim the scene. “Down, bad horsy. Down!”
When he let go of the saddle, January remained in place, but she continued to buck her hips. Once again, he left her for the tack room. She couldn’t wait to see what idea he had next. The possibilities in that old barn were endless. The suspense made her tingle from her anus to her clit.
The click of his boots resonated as he moved closer to her. She felt his presence behind her, but she didn’t turn around—and Nigel didn’t move to touch her yet.
“Before we do anything, you have a little problem here.” With deliberate steps, he walked toward her head and stopped again. “Your tail is one tangled mess. What kind of proper show pony has knots in her tail?”
With a whinny, she kicked her hind leg.
“That was a whinny,” he panicked. “Are you alright?”
“That was a sad whinny, Nigel. I’m sad because I’m not pleasing you with my appearance.”
“Oh, okay. I’ve got it. I think…” Stepping back, he gave her tail a tug. “And you kicked your leg like a donkey. Show ponies don’t kick. They stand still and tall with grace and elegance.”
Now, he was getting into the role, and January couldn’t disrupt his mojo. No longer the temptress, she resorted to morose little pony with the matted tail, and she rolled her hips slowly from side to side.
As he kneeled beside her, he made sure to show her the brush. “Even bad ponies deserve to be groomed,” he said softly as he stroked the brush gently through the tail and took care not to pull the plug. “I know that life wasn’t so good at your other stable, but I promise I won’t ignore your needs as long as you’re here.”
One lone tear dropped down her face. There were many more where that came from, and she tried to hide her face from Nigel. She knew he was comparing himself with Etienne, and he was right. Sexually, Etienne satisfied her. Emotionally, he left her barren.
But Nigel enticed her away from her blues, soothing those tears as he continued to brush her. She focused on the gentle stroke of his hand, so careful not to pull too hard while transforming her into a horse of competition quality. As she clutched the plug with her tender skin, the ripples of her orgasm trickled through her ass, tickling those heart-shaped cheeks with its familiar sensation.
One day, she hoped to have his cock right there, pumping her with the sensual energy that she knew only with him. For now, she allowed the warmth of pleasure to flood her. Tremors fluttered up her back, drawing her in with a swift flow and dizzying her in the wake of his affection.
Unwittingly, Nigel had a knack for synchronizing fetish and familiarity that drove her body and mind to complete mayhem. Whether by instinct or intention, Nigel fulfilled her appetite for kink without sacrificing affection.
And then the swat came down. The lash of the crop stung her into overdrive. Every bite of leather into her bare ass intensified her orgasm.
When he stopped, she continued to babble, but Nigel took control. “Are you alright?”
“Go!” she told him. “Go!”
With her permission, he resumed, preying upon her existing pleasure as he engaged her with his crop. While she cried out in ecstasy, he caught the light of the barn door opening and stopped suddenly.
“Wait!” Nigel shouted suddenly. “Arrêtez!”
With one arm, Nigel scooped her up, saddle and all, and carried her kicking and screaming into the tack room. As he threw her clothes at her, she hissed, “But I’m still coming!”
“Will you hush up?” he demanded while his nervous fingers unfastened the damn saddle. “Oh, this is just…I knew we shouldn’t.”
It was the damn tail. The taut sensation continued to drive her wild. “But—oh, fuck, I can’t stop…”
Gently, he pushed her forward to remove the plug. “Naughty horse! My stable hand is out there…”
“Oh…!” she moaned. “Does he wanna watch?”
With his bare hand, Nigel spanked her ass and then made his quick exit to the barn to find Lucas, the young man who helped Nigel in exchange for riding lessons.
“Bonjour…” Nigel smiled as he threw himself against the common wall to the tack room. “How are you this fine morning?”
Behind the door, a low whinny rumbled, prompting Lucas to step back with a touch of apprehension. Meanwhile, Nigel looked down to find January’s panties on top of the horse blanket
s they’d left behind.
“Um…if you could just start with Major…?” Nigel’s voice rose at least two octaves while January just played out her orgasm to its fullest. “At the other end of the stable?”
# # #
“Well, if you’d been watching the time…”
“I was watching the time—Lucas was early.”
“Alright. Let’s behave.” January stepped up to the front door of the manor house. “We have dinner with Mum and Dad.”
Nigel covered her hand with his and gave it a squeeze. “January?”
She never got tired of hearing that beautiful accent saying her name. “Yes?”
“You look lovely.”
For the first time since she donned them in the runway show, January wore a pair of Xavier’s jeans. Somehow, he must have slipped a couple of pairs into her suitcase when she wasn’t looking, and she was glad he did. She’d spent so much time convincing herself that dresses were comfortable that she believed herself. However, that night, it was just nice to put on a pair of denim and truly relax. She paired them with a navy silk scoop-necked tank and matching Gladiator sandals, and she pulled her hair into a side pony.
Rising to the tips of her toes, she gave his lips one sweet kiss. There was no lipstick to wipe away that time. Since it was their last night together, she wanted to be everything he seemed to enjoy most about her. This simple, scaled-down January was his greatest fantasy.
“And you are one handsome man, Dommy.”
Nigel clutched his stomach in mock-pain. “Oh, stop…”
“No, that’s my line, cutie pie. Now, let’s go see Mum and Dad.”
On their trip into town earlier that afternoon, they’d had lunch and shopped around a little, and January picked up a bottle of champagne and two engraved crystal flutes as a thank you gift for Clarissa and Larry. The owner of the glassware store allowed her to watch as he masterfully etched their initials upon the glasses. Nigel reminded her that presents were unnecessary, but January insisted. She didn’t want them to forget her.
To her utter shock, Xavier was already waiting for them at dinner on the back terrace. With a kiss on each cheek, he teased her. “Janvier, it’s been so long. How are you? Seeing anyone these days?”
SMITTEN (Paris Après Minuit) Page 26