As the saddle slipped sideways, I came down with a thump. Winded, all I heard was a tinkling laugh that shattered around me. Then there was a sound of footsteps as I lay on my back in the dust. I tilted my head back and saw a pair of khaki jodhpurs and the tantalizing crease just where the legs met. Then, as more came into view, there was a crisp white shirt that swelled mysteriously followed by a longish neck and then glistening teeth framed by a huge grin followed by the most startling blue eyes that danced with amusement.
My mother had hauled me off my bed on the small farm where we lived and sent me to do some shopping at the trading store about three miles down the road. Since he was the easiest horse to catch, I had corralled Snowdon, a huge, lumbering Percheron carthorse, bridled him and threw on a saddle. Now some horses tend to blow themselves up when saddled and Snowdon was one such horse. The trick was to stick a knee into his side when tightening the cinch to make him deflate. I was too irritated at being forced to do the shopping chore that I didn't bother to fight the big horse, thinking I would tighten the cinches properly down the road. I then promptly forgot about it.
I had done the shopping, put the bags in my rucksack and ambled out noticing another slender chestnut tethered along the fence near the giant carthorse. I was in the process of mounting the big horse when the saddle slipped and sent me crashing to the ground. The legs walked around me and a slim hand thrust down.
"Come on, I'll give you a hand up!" said the girl, her voice barely containing the laughter behind it.
I grabbed the surprisingly strong hand and hauled up, red faced and stuttering about the horse and the fucking cinch straps.
The girl's grin widened then she turned around and strode off to fetch Snowdon who was contentedly cropping at the grass at the roadside.
"You're lucky this white thing you call a horse didn't take off back home without you," she flung at me over her shoulder.
Most horses would have done just that, but Snowdon didn't move unless he had to. Besides I was far too interested in the rear of the girl as the tight jodhpurs seemed to have a life of their own as she walked. She grabbed the reins and hauled the big horse back. She undid the cinches, righted the saddle and between us we pulled the buckles tight, but I was only aware of the girl straining with the leather at my side and the softness as my elbow prodded her breast.
"That should do it," she said stepping back. Then holding out a hand she said "Come on, I'll give you a leg up to make sure you don't pull the saddle down again."
Still embarrassed, I muttered my thanks, put a foot into her hand and swung aboard the broad back of the carthorse. I watched as she dusted her hand on the seat of her pants, ambled across to her horse and swung easily into the saddle.
"Where are you going?" she asked.. I told her where I lived and she told me that was great as she also lived in that direction.
As we kicked the horses to a walk, she turned to me and said:
"Hi, my name's Linda. My dad's the village electrician".
I knew the name well. Her father often came to the farm to fix the odd things that always seem to go wrong.
I said I was pleased to meet her and that my name was Anton. She grinned that wide smile of hers again said: "Tell you what, I'll race you to the top of the hill (about two miles distant) . Loser gets to pay a penalty!"
Before I could object that my lumbering carthorse could be no match for her beautiful thoroughbred, she had slammed her heels into her horse's sides and galloped off with a whoop.
Try as I did, Snowdon would do no more than a swinging canter so by the time I caught up with her at the crest of the hill, her horse had almost stopped blowing.
"Ï've been waiting for hours, you slowcoach," she yelled above the snorting of Snowdon who was distinctly unused to such exercise. "Now you've got to pay the penalty!"
"Oh come on," I said with some heat. "I had no chance on this fat blob of lard. Now if I was riding Greensleeves, you'ld have had no chance!"
"Okay, "she acknowledged. "Tell you what. We'll go for a cross-country ride tomorrow and we'll race again, then we'll see."
"Cool," I said, accepting the challenge. "Then we'll see who has to pay a penalty."
"See you right here at 9 tomorrow," she said as she swung her horse around and trotted off down a side road, giving me a dismissive wave, leaving me to ride the further mile back to my home.
I could not get Linda off my mind. I still felt the strong grasp of her hand in mine, the tantalizing swell of her shirtfront, the slight crease where her jodhpurs met and the oiled movement of her haunches as she walked. These images taunted me for the rest of the day and I was going to make damn sure she would have to pay a penalty for invading my mind.
That afternoon, I soaped the bridle and saddle and made sure they were in excellent condition. I had bought Greensleeves at a local stud farm where I had worked during college holidays. She had won or been placed in all six races she had run before her knees had given in which put an end to her racing career. I was there when she came on heat and was put to stud.
The stable crew watched with high excitement as the glistening black mare was put into the stallion's enclosure. The great beast snorted and pawed the ground at the intrusion, then his head jerked up as his nostrils caught the scent of the mare's sex hormones. He reared, shook his head and galloped at Greensleeves, coming to a stop in a great shower of dust. Then he nudged her, his hooves dancing on the turf. He put his head against her flank, pushed her around and stuck his nose under her tail. Again he lifted his head, his lips pulled back in a piercing whinney and his great cock, thick as a man's arm, propelled out of its sheath. The stallion, his fully extended cock slapping up against his stomach, then rose on his hind feet and plunged on top of the mare who had pulled her tail to the side, her glistening pink edged cunt opening to receive the giant member. The stallion's haunches thrust at the mare, but his cock missed the opening. He jabbed again and found the opening sinking his cock into the big cunt with a shudder.
Greensleeves, much as she wanted to, could no longer bear the weight on her weakened knees. She had splayed her front feet to receive her stallion, but with the mammoth lunges behind her those knees failed her and she slowly toppled over and the metre-long cock was wrenched from her body.
The stallion screamed with frustration, his haunches still thrusting and his free pole, glistening with moisture, continued to jerk, slapping his stomach. He shook his head in confusion that this mare who had been so ready to receive his rampant sex was now shivering at his feet.
My heart broke for the mare at that moment and calling the stablehands, I grabbed a rope and together we chased the stallion away. Greensleeves managed to heave up onto her feet, her weak knees trembling from the strain of carrying the stallion's weight.
As I slipped a halter over the mare's neck, I heard the foreman say: "That's another one for the lions – pity about that, she's a beautiful horse with great breeding."
I led the horse out of the enclosure and marched to where the foreman was standing.
"Mr Gallagher, how much for the horse?"
We negotiated a price of R300 (about $50) and I became the proud owner of Greensleeves and I worked hard at strengthening her knees so that she could enjoy a good run without her knees trembling with pain.
