The barn where we rode horses consisted of five different stables around a central grass paddock and to the side in the driveway was an old stone building which once might have been a feed store or large tool store. Horse care was excellent but the barn was a little "alternative" - a little laid back and didn't strictly adhere to any one particular discipline. English, Western, Dressage, Jumps, or Trail - whatever people rode - was accepted.
In order to make ends meet and keep costs down, once a year the barn held "The Rave". It was never advertised - people just heard about it through the grapevine. Indeed the characters who turned up to take part had nothing to do with horses at all, they just lived a slightly alternative post hippy lifestyle and fancied a weekend camping in the woods around the barn and a darn good party. The neighborhood didn't know what to make of it but as the barn was in a hollow at the far end of the fields and the noise tended to stay there, there was a lot of "live and let live".
Preparations for the event consisted of mowing the tall grass around the areas under trees to create camping spots. The old stone feed store was opened up and a temporary stage was set up at the far end. By the door was a bar and along the far wall a raised narrow platform, not much more than a scaffolding plank set on a ridge of stone built into the wall, was set up to facilitate traffic from the stage to the bar and back. The floor was swept, temporary power was strung in from the nearest stable and the bands were booked.
The bands were up and coming local rock bands that could play a long session of stomping good rock and roll dance music, and play it loud, and keep going as the party would spin on into the night. They tended to also be decent musicians and the crowd watching them would split. Those who wanted to dance and rave would gravitate to the front and those who wanted to listen to the pretty decent music would hang back at the bar. As the place filled up and the night wore on, it would get increasingly crowded and people would start to climb up onto the narrow plank on the far wall for a breather or to dance away from the crush. The plank was at about shoulder height from the crowd on the floor and anyone could see who was on the plank just by looking up.
Amy was one of the barn rats. She was 5' 4" and about 90lbs, early 20's. She mucked stalls, did a little training with kids on ponies and rode like the wind on horses that owners needed exercising. It seemed to pay her way. Her long glossy black hair was always pulled back in a tight pony tail and she was as fit and taut as a whippet. Her loose sweater shirts hinted at small but firm breasts and her tight riding pants didn't leave anything to the imagination. Some folks thought she had a thing going with one of the trainers.
On the night of the rave I was hanging out. I was midway between those who were listening to the bands for the music and feeling like I wanted to dance. I was a couple of beers ahead and tapping my feet and beginning to move with the music but it was crowded and I kept bumping into folks. Looking up I could see a couple of people balanced on the plank but otherwise there was a lot of space and decided to get up there. By the time I pushed my way to the wall and found a way up - there were a couple more folk up there and Amy was one of them.
Tonight she was dressed in jeans that were slightly too big for her - cinched into her narrow waist with a broad leather belt and a large brass buckle. For a top she had on a tight black tank top tucked into the jeans. She obviously had a bra on too but her small but perfect breasts were standing out just the way I like on a smaller girl. She had been dancing for a bit - there was a slight sheen of sweat on her shoulders and arms and as I climbed onto the plank she half acknowledged me but otherwise was in a dance world of her own, swaying and tapping to the music.
The view from the plank was great. You could see the band properly, the crowd were spread below partying like mad and the music soon got me going. The footing was much firmer than I thought it might have been and I was soon grooving to the steady rock beat. Couple of times I accidently bumped into Amy but nothing more than accidently. Looking out I could see the trainer who some thought she had a thing with. He was dancing madly with a blond who had a horse in one of the stables, if Amy was "with him", it sure didn't look like it tonight.
She was certainly looking hot and with her eyes half closed she was very into the music. I did wonder if she was into anything more than the beer too, she was zoning in and out.
I "accidently" bumped into her. I got a smile through her half closed eyes and for a moment or two we deliberately "bumped" hips in time to the music.I could feel her lean tight butt cheek through the slightly baggy denim and I thought I might check it out a little more. I put my arm around her waist - pulling her into the bumps a little more and she responded and pressed back. I slid my hand down and over her jeans and felt her buns through the cloth. Firm and exciting and no bad reaction from Amy. We danced on and I continued to feel her great tight ass. I curled my fingers under the curve of her buns feeling the muscles move.
The beat of the music stepped up and the dancing got a little wilder. As I surveyed the crowd it seemed that no one was paying any attention to us up on the platform and I got a little bolder. I reached around Amy's front and grabbed the brass belt buckle and used it to pull her firmly sideways towards me in the bumping. We were still both facing the crowd and side by side. Anyone who looked up would have clearly seen me grabbing her belt. No one looked.
I slid my hand down in a brush across her mound to gauge her reaction. She threw her head back and swirled her hair and danced on wildly. I ran my hand across her mound again and was rewarded with a distinct thrust forward of her hips - her mound pushing onto my hand and at the crowd.
