1. Horseplay 2


    Date: 2/1/2016, Categories: Lesbian, Author: monica3, Rating: 11, Source: LushStories

    course you are, darling. Men are simply for breeding.” As you know, breeding never appealed to me, unless it involved horses. I like my tits to point skyward and my belly to stay flat. And so, of course, you have no need to worry about becoming a brood mare either. Can’t imagine anything worse than screaming kids. ‘Anyway, Prissy was a bit like me, last of the line. Absolutely stinking rich. She has a girl who lives with her, well, a woman. They both look young for being 65. They share this fuck off great house in the middle of nowhere. Her bird is called Jemima so naturally is known as Puddleduck but I call her Jem. Prissy is absolutely the boss. She, like you, loathes horses but she keeps chickens and ducks and has a few pigs and lambs she brings on for slaughter.’ ‘With her bare hands?’ She smiled. ‘Probably. Anyway, come on, we’d better get back on the road. Get your knickers off when we get in the car. I might want a grope.’ She did, it turned out. ‘So,’ said Prissy. ‘This is your squeeze?’ We’d turned off a minor road onto a track that seemed to go on forever until we went round a bend and there was the house. It was vast and gothic. Two very young-looking 65 year olds met us as we unloaded the car. I extended my hand, ‘I’m Susan.’ She ignored my hand and took me into a hug. ‘This is Puddle,’ she said introducing her partner, ‘Give her a hug too.’ I did. Vicky and I carried our bags in and dumped them in the hall. It was a vast space and a log fire burned in a huge ...
    grate. It was almost 8 by this time and we were led into a snug sitting room where huge gins and tonic were poured without a choice being offered. ‘Prissy is an absolute lush,’ said Vicky. That was rich, coming from her. Jem served a lovely meal. She was like a maid and waitress and Prissy sat commandingly at the head of the table and did nothing to help. She confided when Jem was not in the room that the only time they argued was when she, Prissy, invaded the kitchen. ‘I know someone else like that.’ That made Victoria grin. ‘Can I lend a hand with the clearing up?’ ‘Certainly not, it’s all the tart is good for, let her get on with it.’ Her warm smile denied the apparent slight and it was clear she loved Jemima. Our bedroom was cosy but not small. Heavy curtains covered large windows. The bed was big. The en suite was large and had a walk in shower. “Get up when you feel like it,’ Prissy told us, ‘Or not at all if the mood takes you. I’ll get Puddle to bring you some breakfast if you like?’ ‘I’ll send my tart down if we do.’ They both grinned and so, of course, did I. Vicky showered first while I unpacked. She emerged from the bathroom in dark blue silk pyjamas and told me to ‘wear the black.’ This being a black, long nightdress she’d bought for me. I showered and slipped it on loving the silk’s caress and joined her in bed. ‘Vicky’s got her poky in.’ Her poky was a strapless dildo and that would only lead to one thing. We lay together, on our sides, facing each other, heads ...
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