She had briefly remembered her uncle Robert helping her to the ground. Then he was gone. She had been carried on a stretcher back to her home. For day... she had stayed in her room. The doctors had come and pronounced her well. Just the thought of getting back on a horse would send her back to bed and the comfort of sleep.Weeks had gone by and she was finally starting to feel near normal again. She still didn't look towards the stables, preferring the tranquilizing comfort of staying inside. Her. Despite her calming presence, she could see that Windust couldn’t relax. She noticed out of the corner of her eye that the man remained at the gate, watching her. She rolled up to the great gray body and reached her hand up. Windust lifted his head up so she could touch him and snuffled at her sandy hair. She laughed joyously. ‘Nice to meet you as well, Windust. Who owns him?’ ‘The track owns him. I’m Larry, his trainer and he isn’t long for this world. When a horse is as badly injured as he. With them, it isn't simply a matter of passingor not for an attractive piece of meat, with them it is an in-depthscrutiny into every minutiae I could imagine, and some that still eludeme. Also, with them, it isn't just a matter of sexual objectification,it verges on outright hostility at times, fuelled by competition andenvy. A man at least wants you to be as pretty as you can be, so he canget the most of the view. However, whereas men look for what isattractive, beautiful about you, these. She descended back down on him. Ripples of warm honey bubbled out over his crotch, popping with wet sounds as Phil's cock and balls were inundated. Waves of pleasure cascaded through his body. No, it was something more insidious and solid than simple sensation.Warmth flowed through Phil's body. Her warmth, he realised. Her honey. It was creeping through his body, oozing through the moist spaces within him, tickling his inner organs as it squeezed between them."Soak in my pleasure," Mameka.
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