I'm in decent shape for my age and mercifully so. My job as a nurse is physically demanding and while you might not have known that about my profession, I can assure you it's true. It requires me to be fit but that's not how I stay fit.
I get most of my workout each day by exercising the horses. We have three. Two are boarded with us and the third is mine. He is a three year old named Thunder and I've had him since he was a foal. He is a beautiful chestnut with white sox on the front and a white blaze on his forehead.
I'm a divorced mother of two and my oldest son still lives with me. He has a job in town just as I do but he contributes mightily around the yard and stables when he's home. We have a part time hand and groomer named Micah. He has a remarkable gift with horses. I'd honestly have to say he's awesome with animals.
One morning last July after I finished exercising the boarders, Missy and Molly, I brushed them down, put them back in their stalls and headed down the aisle toward Thunder. He knew the drill, knew he was about to get the chance to run and was very animated. He always is. I believe above all things, he loves to run.
I had put the bridle on him and was preparing to throw the blanket on when it hit me. I haven't ridden bareback since I was a teenager. This was maybe a perfect opportunity. It was Micah's day off, my son Jeffrey was at work. Nobody was around to see me if I got thrown. I wasn't at all afraid of that, to make a point. I'd been thrown scores of times over the years. I just didn't want to suffer the indignation of having either of them see it happen. I grabbed a handful of mane and swung up.
The horse was startled for a quick moment but he very quickly settled. They know. Horses know. They know if you know what you're doing or not. They recognize that certain pressure of your knees against their ribs, your soft management of the reins, the confident sureness of your voice when you speak to them. You can't fake it. They know.
We had a wonderful ride. I knew this horse well and he knew me. I've always challenged him but I've never asked him to give more than he could. We didn't jump very much, for example, but when I sent him over a low hedge, he never hesitated. He was fabulous.
I always liked to give him a hard ride just before we'd turn for home. That might only last 6 or 8 minutes but it was enough to let him go full out. He loved it and when it began to wind him, and I could always tell, I'd slow to a trot, then a walk and we'd head back. That's when I got this crazy idea. I'd have to give it some thought. It was just the littlest bit naughty. Or maybe not.
The following Tuesday, both men being gone from the ranch for the day and it being particularly beautiful outside, I decided to try something I'd never done before. The feeling of freedom you get alone on a horse, the awesomeness of his power, the whole wind-in-your face experience as you tear across the fields alone with nature; it's a very heady thing. And I was feeling just brazen enough that day to ride naked.
I wore my house coat out to the barn to exercise Missy and Molly and when I put them away and got my horse bridled, I went out one last time to be sure we were alone. Sure enough, nobody in sight and the nearest neighbor being more than four miles away, I put my robe on a hook and using one of the stall rails to help me, I climbed on.
Looking back, maybe I should have been more cautious or thoughtful about riding bare back and bear bottomed that day, but I did it and I'm glad of it.
I must tell you it was thrilling. When we got out to the west pasture and I gave him his head, he was off like a rocket. The feeling of that churning beast between by legs was mind blowing. I'd never experienced the sensation before...or anything like it. His muscled back undulating beneath me, the scent of the meadow that day, the slant of the sun, the wind rushing across my face, my breasts and through my hair.
He was at full gallop, his ears pinned back and his breaths coming loud and fast, my bare lady parts directly atop his withers as they churned and worked and flexed, his tendons tightening and releasing in perfect rhythm with his driving, sprinting stride. It was sensation on steroids.
I looked down at my breasts as they heaved out in counter point to the horse's forceful strides. I saw my own hands only barely, limply holding the reins. I'd let him take control. This was his heaven too.
I want to be quick to make the point that this had nothing to do with sex. I have no interest in any kind of sexual encounter with a damn farm animal. Eww! Instead, this was about sensation and it was deeply that. It was euphoric.
We came back to the barn soon after that but for the next several days my mind couldn't or wouldn't let go of that exhilarating first impression - the feeling I got when my bare bottom first came in contact with that horse's bare back. He was warm and smooth and so was I. I just have to say, oh my gawd.
I remained naked after the ride as I hosed the horse off and brushed him down. It might have been a little wicked but I hosed myself off too, there in the shadow of the barn. It was exhilarating; the cool water spewing forcefully against my sweaty form, the feeling of the hose in my hand, insistent and firm, rumbling silently in my fingers, surging from within as if it had life. And in a sense it did, it's insistent spew shooting against my face and lips, running on down my neck, my shoulders and breasts, on down to my belly, my hairless muffin, legs and feet. The smell of the wet hay beneath me was familiar and heady. I turned the hose against the back of my neck and it was deliciously cooling, running down my torso and across my bottom, again raising the familiar smell of 'farm' from the earth beneath as it got wetter and wetter.
But I had to keep an eye on the clock too and the long driveway. I was still alone and had calculated as much, but was thankful for it nevertheless. Nobody would ever know about it, but I'd forever remember that first time I experienced Thunder between my legs.
The next Tuesday was cool and wet. I still had to exercise the horses but I didn't ride that day.
The Tuesday after that, Micah was at the ranch working a make up day. He asked for and I happily gave him the Friday before off. It was his daughter's birthday. He was a great guy and we were lucky to have him. I'd have gladly done that and more.
The following Tuesday, though, was beautiful and again I was alone on the ranch with the horses. I would be for the entire day. I threw caution to the wind and did all my outdoor morning chores naked, including exercising Missy and Molly. I knew I'd get dirty leading them around the coral like that and I didn't care. As always, I allowed them a half hour of play time to themselves inside the fence rails. I could already hear Thunder nickering and carrying on.
He recognized my finishing touches with the boarders. He was already pumped up and being none too quiet about it.
I climbed on and off we went, Thunder and me, joy and exaltation waiting for us in the far meadows. Nature can be cruel when she cares to be but that day, that magnificent Tuesday in late July, she treated us like royalty. The pounding of his hooves echoed off the surrounding trees like a canyon. The wind was sweet with the smell of late summer and the symphony of color she set before us was breath stealing; every hue of green you might conceive and the wild flowers laid out across the grassland were stupefying in their splendor. No master's brush and pallet could match it...ever.
Our time out there blew by as surely and blissfully as the wind in my face but inevitably it did, so we turned for home. I had become so focused on the joy of the ride and so unconscious of my nakedness that I smiled and waved enthusiastically at Micah, standing in the yard by the barn.
