My daughters both wanted horses. Well, ponies first, then horses. Naturally we indulged them and, for a while I enjoyed the Gymkhana circuit and they actually did quite well winning the odd rosette and even a cup once. I not only enjoyed the riding action but I also found some of the people rather attractive, particularly tightly clad bottoms. Also, a regular treat for me was shoeing time. You know when they're worn out or they've thrown one and our not-so-local blacksmith would turn up in his Land Rover and put things right. The girls were always surprised when I volunteered to wait around whilst he plied his trade so, often as not they didn't even come to the stables when he was due. This rather suited me. Let's make no bones about it - I fancied him rotten and was very keen to progress something but, no matter how much and how blatantly I flirted he never showed a glimmer of interest in me so I was pretty gutted during most of his visits. In fact it was becoming a recipe for self-flagellation of one's self-image.
I'd almost given up but it was on one of his visits in late spring that I got a first ray of sunshine from our beefy, burly blacksmith when I noticed the way he slapped each horse's flanks. They seemed to like it and he certainly seemed to enjoy the sound and feel. It seemed to be more than a statement designed to control the horse as the caress had a slightly pervy edge to it. The next time he visited it was because Daisy had thrown a shoe so we were lone at the stables in our field. I was dressed slightly provocatively in flouncy little skirt and a rather low cut top with a 'present everything as best you can' bra giving me the full scaffolding treatment. As he was bending down to lift Daisy's hoof he gave the horse a solid whack, followed by a seemingly longing caress. 'It's now or never' I thought.
"You seem to be enjoying doing that to that lovely rump." I stuttered out as quick as a rat after a piece of chicken. There was a deathly hush and I felt a tingle up and down my spine like a little blast of electric current. Something akin to a twin pole battery being applied across a nipple (Yum). He slowly turned, rising to his feet and saving making any eye contact till he was towering above me.
"I do." His eyes bored into my soul. "I do." He repeated. His focus slowly lowered to take in my whole form, pausing on the way down at my cleavage and then again on the way up. I felt myself flushing with embarrassment.
"Turn." Was the only word he said and I knew that I had a choice. If I turned I was his there and then. If I fought I might blow the moment and miss out altogether but it might result in a harder spanking. After all, winding a big brute of a blacksmith up ought to have an effect don't you think? I paused but settled on a course of action and I put my hands on my hips glaring back at him.
"And why would you want me to do that?"
"Because I like to see what's on offer before I use the goods."
"And what makes you think there's anything on offer?"
"Because you've been watching the way I treat those rumps for nearly a year now and each time wearing less and less. Now turn." His voice was beautifully commanding. No more the soft-voiced blacksmith but now the man in charge. I looked him up and down then made my move. I reached forward and picked up one of his hands in mine turning it as I raised it and examining it carefully, running my fingers through the creases and over the hardened, calloused skin. I raised it further then dropped a little kiss in the centre then let it drop and turned. I looked over my shoulder and thought for one little moment that I might be gutted yet further should he choose to take this no further.
"Hmmm." Was all he said then produced the faintest smile. "Hold the reins for me." The only way past him was between his rather impressive chest and the horse so, choosing to remain slightly distant from the latter my breasts could do no other than brush against his overalls as I moved to the forward end of the animal to do as instructed. It didn't take him long to nail on the shoe and then file the hoof and all those bits but I wasn't prepared for the conversation he brought to the party.
