Aside from the brief narrowing of her eyes, she didn’t seem bothered by my momentary lapse of the doting daughter pretense Dad insisted on, instead offering me another tummy-turning smile. “Yes, of course, stepfather.”
All sense screamed at me to see her out of my domain — pronto. And yet, the very suggestion that she shared a passion for horses was too much to resist. “You ride?”
“As often as I can.”
I took the opportunity to leisurely scan the length of her, a smile now creeping into my lips as I reacquainted myself with her totally impractical ensemble, right down to her baby pink stilettos.
“I have a change of clothes in the trunk,” she hurried out, the source of my amusement not lost on her as she dropped the polished façade befitting of her thirty-something years and became almost childlike in her eagerness.
“I guess I can spare half an hour,” I said, trying not to sound too keen at the prospect. “Go and grab your things, there’s an office you can use to change in.”
“Thank you so much!”
I watched as she raced back to the car, her heels not hindering her speed in the slightest and only serving to emphasize the hypnotic wiggle of her hips.
Forcing myself to turn away, I stepped from the straw pile and headed to the entrance of the office, brushing at my clothes in a self-conscious attempt to clean myself up.
She was quick to join me. Her effort not to cause me any extra delay was again surprising. She was turning out to be very different to Dad’s usual conquests and no matter how disconcerting, I couldn’t deny that I found her attractive. Gay or not, the idea of her soon undressing did things to me that I didn’t want to acknowledge.
I swallowed hard, trying to force some normality into my voice. “I’m afraid the office has no curtains...”
She gave me a carefree shrug. “Not a problem, as far as I can see we have the place to ourselves.”
I nodded, my voice lost to my racing pulse and wayward imaginings. She strode ahead of me through the office, her confidence in the unfamiliar surroundings both enviable and intensely appealing. As she deposited her bag on the desk and started to pull out her clothes I urged myself to turn away but my body refused. I watched as she took hold of the hem of her dress, my mouth going dry with anticipation and then she paused, turning to look at me over her shoulder, her eyes gleaming provocatively.
The air escaped my lungs in a rush. Fuck! This couldn’t be happening.
“I’ll just be outside,” I blurted, losing my nerve and bolting as quick as I could, almost taking the nearby coat stand with me. How smooth ... not!
What was wrong with me? Dad had brought many a pretty woman home since Mum passed away almost fifteen years ago. And these days, most of them weren’t even that much older than me. Yet this one was different. She was stirring up desires that normally only my vivid imagination and saucy novels could spark. Even the odd stable hand and past boyfriends hadn’t caused such a throbbing reaction on sight. And never before had a woman inspired such an interest. But this one ... my eyes were drawn to the window as I chanced a glance.
I could just make out the flash of white fabric being tossed across the desk before my eyes focused fully on the interior and her glorious, naked form came into view. She wore nothing but a scanty, white thong. Tan lines notably absent. Hot liquid pooled unashamedly between my legs, the intensity of my reaction startling me into looking away.
But I couldn’t help myself. Pressing up against the outer wall of the office, my gaze drifted back, first to her face as I prayed she wouldn’t see me. I needn’t have worried; her attention was fixed entirely on the contents of her bag. I could feel the thrill spread through me as I relished the unhindered view, my breath catching in my throat as I took in her bare breasts. So full, they defied gravity as the pert center of each small rosebud pointed upward, begging to be touched, licked, fondled ... I bit my upper lip as the thought of enjoying each peak raced through my mind—
“Abi!”
The sound of her calling my name made me jump out of my skin. My eyes shot to her face but she was looking toward the door, completely oblivious to my watchful gaze.
“Yes?” I called, trying to sound normal while my pulse raced out of control and my eyes were once again drawn to her body, her breasts moving hypnotically as she returned to rummage through her bag.
“Do you have a shirt I can borrow? I don’t seem to have one.” She scooped up a black sports bra and began fastening it around herself. “Abi?” she said, pausing her movements to listen out for me.
God, I needed to get a grip. What was it she wanted? A shirt!
“Err, yeah, sure, one sec.” Tearing myself away, I headed to the boot room, my whole body throbbing with an awakened need that I desperately wanted to satisfy.
Could I? Right here and now? It wouldn’t take long, of that I was certain. It really would be torture to spend the next half hour with her in this heightened state of need.
It was true that there was no one else around, and the boot room was closed off completely. One way in, one way out. Mind made up, I entered the room and closed the door behind me. Leaning back against it, I wasted no time in loosening the fly on my jeans and thrust my hand into my panties, amazed at just how wet I was. A small groan escaped my lips as I pulled back over my clit, savoring the sensation. Oh yes! I was so ready.
All hesitation gone, I circled the nub, gently at first and then harder, reveling in the heat spreading through my body. My mind filled with the image of her naked form as I imagined the feel of those breasts beneath my hands, my mouth, my tongue...
I spread my legs wide to gain better access, my rhythm picking up a pace as my whole body began to tense up. I was so wet and so close. My other hand shoved up into my bra to release one aching breast, the cold air hitting the nipple as I groped at the flesh and pinched at the tip. And then I was imagining it was her on me, her mouth, her hands...
“Fuck!” I exploded, my whole body racked with glorious convulsions as my orgasm took hold and sent my legs buckling beneath me.
“Abi, you there?”
