This story is essentially an interracial one, between a high up Lady from the UK, and a young black stable hand, it develops in to love, and there is an added lesbian twist towards the end.
*****
Lady Samantha Walker was against the four by two rails that formed the dividers of the four horse stable, her arms were outstretched, her wrists bound by leather straps, her booted feet were about three feet apart, they too were tied with leather straps, other than that, the Lady had no clothing on at all, she was stark naked.
In front of her on his knees was Mathew, her nineteen year old stable manager. His hands were on her bare thighs and his face was buried deep into her yielding pussy, his long tongue was so far in her she thought she could feel it tickling the back of her belly button.
Lady Samantha's head was lolling from side to side as he pursued her clit, and her collapse, her full downfall, and her surrender. He had thought he had got it yesterday, but today had gone differently than he had expected. Yesterday had been a surprise, not expected at all.
It all started out innocently enough, her Ladyship had rung down had ordered him the night before to prepare Blaze for her to ride at 7pm, it was early but Mathew didn't mind. This was a chance to spend a little private time with his mistress; he would do anything for her, anything, including fucking her brains out if he ever got the chance.
Yesterday that chance arrived for him big time, and he took it, and he took it with glee and total gusto. He ended up fucking her before she knew he was doing it, and when she did know, it was too late to stop him, he had ridden her on and off for nearly two hours, making her cum several times before giving up exhausted himself.
The Lady had asked him to accompany her as the last time she had ridden Blaze, he had tried to throw her, so she was a little wary and felt she needed some support until she was sure of him again. Mathew had gladly gone along, they rose everywhere, up the hills along ridge, through gully's, stopping for a rest, let the horses drink, let them walk a little before she decided it was time to head back.
He had watched her mount Blaze, the horse was a beauty, light brown, a white mane, a white tail, and a Blaze from between his ears to his nostrils, hence Blaze. But Her Ladyship outdid the horse in the beauty stakes by far, she was the most elegant and beautiful woman he had ever seen and he loved her, lusted for her and would do anything she asked of him.
She was here on the Caribbean island retreat that her family had owned and passed down to her. She had her own money, she came from money, but despite her high end upbringing, she was a woman first and last. She had married well too. Her and her husband were regular visitors from London England. She often stayed behind when he had to go back in their private jet for political dealings, of which Mathew knew nothing and cared less. All he cared about was being near her. He was a Lord of something or other, so she was Lady of something, that's all he knew about her.
He had just turned nineteen, he was 6ft tall, angular and rangy, but he was a powerful boy, and as good looking as any black boy on his native island. He was also popular with the girls, including some married women when their husbands were away at sea. His granddad used to warn him off, but never berated him, 'he's a boy after all,' he would think, 'let him sow his wild oats!'
Lady Samantha was in her late twenty's he reckoned, possibly early thirties. She was so softly sensual, and utterly beautiful, long blond hair, deep smoky grey eyes, and lips he wanted to kiss all day long, and a body, of which he had glimpsed a few times when she went into the huge outdoor heated pool, was to die for. She was full breasted, narrow waisted, and the longest fabulous legs. And in her different bikinis he would have a hard on that was difficult to hide from her.
Her ladyship of course knew the effect she had on him and indeed most men around her wherever she went. She wouldn't show off, but she did strike the occasional pose for naughtiness. Mathew would tell his granddad with which he lived, as his own parents were no more.
He would tell him with bated breath what she had been wearing, what she had done, where and how, his granddad would laugh and tell him to 'go for it.' And then say, "when you get her Mathew, bring her to me, I'll show you how to handle her!" He would smile at the boy knowing he had a snowballs chance in hell of doing it.
Lady Samantha was wearing her riding attire, long sleeved frilly blouse, buttoned all the way up, a red rose ribbon tied daintily around her neck that fluttered in the breeze, a long cotton skirt that buttoned all the way up, and riding boots that gleamed with Mathew's attention to them. He could even smell her when she had finished riding on Blaze's saddle, it smelled of her delicious aroma, sex!
She cantered along, going through a long grass meadow on a slightly sloping hill side. She kicked her heels and Blaze took off, near the top of the slope Blaze skittered, it threw Samantha off, she landed heavily, and it stunned her, she lay there unconscious. Mathew jumped of his horse and raced to her.
He checked her for possible broken bones; he knew how to do that because his uncle was a doctor on the island. He decided she was okay, just a little concussed; he would wait until she came round, and then get her back home. Then he saw her breasts pumping up and down, her nipples protruding under the thin blouse.
Without thinking he stroked one, it seemed alive, it moved, he stroked it again, and he could see it growing, his next touch made it grow more, and the next one he felt the hardness of it. He gripped it lightly, she groaned, he let go quickly, then realised she was still out of it, he gripped it again, she groaned again, but he never let go this time.
He nipped the other one and the same thing happened, now he slightly turned them, she moaned. Mathew knew arousal when he saw or heard it; he had been with a few women by now to know. Squeezing them her ladyship moved, moaned again, but never opened her eyes. Her lips had changed colour too, they were now a deep blood red, and an old flame had told him that when a woman's lips go deep red, she is up for a shagging.
