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.. me... the... paddle!" Okay now... Get over that chair."(shuffling sounds)Then the paddling started. The sound of the paddle on bare skin was very distinct, which made Collen suspect that the strokes were being applied very hard.(Several strokes later)"Aaaahhhh!"(More strokes) "Aaaaahhhhh!"(The paddling continued) "Owwww! STACY!"(One hard stroke)"No, get back in position!" (pause)(The paddling resumed) "Aaaaahh!" Oh God, Stacy!" Aaaah! Stacy, I can't -" You just stay there and hold on very tight! If you stand up again, I'll add strokes with the cane." Owwwwwwww!" Aaaaugh!" Stacy! Please!"As the paddling continued Colleen became aware of dampness between her legs, and shifted her position several times. The paddling continued for a few moments, the sounds of the strokes interspersed with increasingly ardent protests and pleading from Stacy's boyfriend. The paddling then stopped, and there was some hushed whispering coming from the bedroom. The whispered conversation. She wasn’t a model or stuck on herself. She didn’t try to put on airs about herself. She was more like the pretty girl next door who was much more beautiful than she knew. I hadn’t told her about my finances. I needed to see if she wanted me for myself and not for money. I’ve been through that route three times already. I didn’t lie to her but didn’t tell her the whole story about my past yet. At my car, she leaned against the door as we talked about where to go next. I needed to taste her so badly. My lips brushed against hers lightly, a whispery soft touch. I wanted to claim her right there. Pulling back, I looked into her eyes. A tear slid from the corner of her eye. Before I could apologize for whatever I had done to cause it, she put her finger over my lips. Standing on her tiptoes, she kissed me again. All I heard was, ‘Take me back to my room please.’ My hands shook as I started my car. Thoughts scattered all over my mind. I was thinking forever, not just tonight. What if all.
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What about you? I don’t know of any professional horse riders, at least not any who do what you do.’ While he was talking he was unpacking the food and stacking it on the bonnet of the Range Rover, a steak sandwich each, some fries and salad and pie for later. He opened a beer and handed it to her. Kelly hadn’t realised that it had been so long since she last had anything to drink. ‘I do this as a hobby, but I am working towards the National trials and Olympic selection, but that’s a few years off yet. My dad is a horse breeder, mostly race horses, but when I wasn’t a boy and became interested in riding, he decided that I should go down this road. George was a present for my 16th birthday, but I wasn’t allowed to ride him seriously until he was a four year old. Dad said that was to give his bones a chance to mature, eventing is harder on horses than flat racing. In the mean time I had to build up a rapport with him, to be able to talk to him, calm him down when he got stressed so.

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