The stable door creaks shut behind me. Hector’s arms wrap tight. His breath hot on my neck. Hay dust swirls. Manure stink clings to his shirt. I push him off. Wife just left for town. Too close. Neighbors’ houses dot the hillside. One yell, and the whole vineyard knows.
He grins, towel in hand, heads for the shower. I saddle Assia quick. Her gray coat gleams in fading sun. Hooves clop on stone courtyard. I trot out. Hector yells from his porch. Words lost in wind. Heart races. This chase? Pure fire.
The Chase Begins
Vines blaze autumn gold. October warmth hugs skin. Assia’s ears flick. Hooves thunder behind. His big auburn stallion gains. I spur her. Gallop surges. Coteaux blur. Laughter bubbles up. He’s better rider. Traps me in pasture corner. Takes reins. Leads to thicket. Horses snort, wander free.
We dismount. Leaves crunch soft under boots. Beech grove whispers secrets. His hands on waist. Pulls me down. Mouth claims mine. Rough. Hungry. Fingers trace back, sides, tits. I kiss back fierce. Pursuit’s got me soaked. No time for slow.
“Boots off,” I hiss. He grabs ankle. Yanks left boot free. Right follows. Tugs pants down. Panties snag calves. I kick ’em off. Naked below. Pull him close. “Now.” He chuckles low. Lays me on leaf bed. Spreads thighs. Drops his breeches. Cock thick, ready.
Teases lips. Girth rubs slick folds. I grab it. Guide deep. Thrusts pound hard. I cry out. Muffled by leaves? Voices from road? Wife back early? Ecstasy builds fast. I buck wild. Clench him tight. Explode in waves.
Wild Surrender in the Grove
He holds back. Pulls out. We stand. His pants tangle boots. Cock bobs stiff. I laugh. Dodge his grab. He stumbles, curses. I yield playful. He sits tree-back. I straddle. Sink onto him. Slow ride first. Then frantic. Hands grip hips. Slap ass. Pinch nipples. Suck neck.
Orgasm creeps again. Deeper. Longer. Shakes me. He groans. Fills me hot spurts. We pant. Quiet woods swallow sounds. But heart hammers. Footsteps nearby? Neighbors walking vines?
I slip away. Squat for cleanup. Leaves rustle. Birds hush. Return: he’s twisting, ass up. “Spines,” he winces. Beech husks prickly. Kneel behind. Pluck one by one. His hairy cheeks clench. “Ow!” Like kid. Nurse hands steady. Finish. He turns. Cock stirs at face level.
Hand on neck. I twist free. Stand. “Not yet, stud.” Pull up pants. Boots on. Whistle horses. They trot near. Mount up. Trot back slow. Pasture empty. Pasture fence. Stable looms. Wife’s car? No. Heart still thuds. Secret safe. For now.
Courtyard quiet. Dismount. Hector watches, smirks. I lead Assia in. Brush her down. Strokes echo soft. Door bangs distant. Neighbors stir? I smile inside. Best fuck ever. Vineyard holds our dirt.