Returning from our honeymoon, we settled into married life. Charles commuted to his job in the City. I occupied my time with setting up home, going to the gym, meeting for lunch with girlfriends, and riding out from the livery yard where I kept my horse.Long rides across the rolling countryside were heaven. But as most female riders will tell you, the motion and the constant rub of the saddle is highly arousing. I frequently arrived back at the stables, gave my mare to one of the grooms to untack and put in the stable, and then left to find somewhere secluded on the way home to park the Range Rover and bring myself to a much-needed orgasm.The grooms at the yard were young, horse-mad girls, who worked under the direction of the yard manager, Dessie. In his early forties, Dessie was a wiry, tough man who took no nonsense, but knew his horses and their management. Good looking in a rough sort of way, Dessie was a man of few words. Polite but gruff, he was business-like, rather than friendly. What I noticed most about him, particularly when he wore tight jodhpurs, was the size of his manhood. Even when flaccid, it clearly was enormous. The thought of it proud and hard often filled my mind; not least, when parked up and toying with myself.One summer afternoon, I arrived at the yard to ride out. I was dressed in khaki riding breeches, which were sculptured beautifully to follow the contours of my figure; tight over my firm little bum and long legs. With them, I wore leather field boots, with a contoured fit, and into which I had tucked my riding crop; and a white base layer top, with elegant lace short sleeves, lace panelling to the tight-fitting upper body, and a mock sweetheart Batıkent Escort neckline, with gold poppers on the high collar.Walking to where Amy, the groom, had my mare tacked up and waiting for me, I passed Dessie. Greeting him, he replied with a gruff hello. But I couldn’t help noticing his eyes roaming across my curves as I consciously kept a slow steady pace, swinging my hips slightly and pushing out my boobs so that they strained against the fabric of the base layer top. His face coloured as I gave him a knowing smile, and looked meaningfully at the outline of his cock inside his tight, worn, and dirt-incrusted jodhpurs.I rode my mare hard, turned on by the glimpse of Dessie’s cock. That feeling of arousal grew with the motion of cantering and galloping across the fields. The horse was in a serious lather when I arrived back at the yard and handed her back to Amy with a smile of thanks.Dessie took an experienced look at my horse and shook his head. “Ma’am,” he called, “might I have a word?”I swayed across to him and raised an eyebrow, whilst Dessie gave me a ticking off for bringing my mare back in that state. “Dessie, I enjoy a long, hard, ride,” I retorted haughtily, but with the hint of a meaningful pout that was not lost on the craggy yard manager. “And my husband pays you extremely well to look after her, even when I bring her back in need of attention.”“That’s as maybe, Ma’am, but you should know better than to bring her back like that,” he scowled; albeit, his eyes were drawn to my firm body, as I stood with a hand on my hips flaunting myself in front of him.“But you so experienced with thoroughbreds, Dessie; you just know how Batıkent Escort Bayan to look after their every need,” I purred, casting him a mischievous look.He shook his head with irritation, but I could see his eyes running over my boobs and the gap between my legs. “We need her fresh, not over-ridden, for the hunter trails this weekend,” he chided.“You wouldn’t deny me a good hard ride, would you, Dessie,” I murmured huskily, my eyes drawn down, seeing his cock twitch involuntarily in reaction to my blatant innuendo.“But I’m sorry,” I continued in a honeyed tone, touching his arm, “I misjudged it. It’s why I need an experienced man like you, who knows how far to push each ride,” I continued, my gloved hand running down his arm, my eyes lingering on his crotch as it twitched again.“Perhaps we should make sure the horse box is prepared for the weekend,” I suggested. Taking Dessie’s grunt as agreement, I led the way around to the back of the yard, where the boxes and lorries were parked-up; conscious of his eyes boring into my firm bum, as he followed behind me in silence.Opening the side door to the trailer, I put my booted foot on the ledge, stretching the breeches even tighter over my buttocks, and looked back over my shoulder. “Shall we.” I smiled enticingly, and then pulled myself up and into the empty trailer.Dessie joined me. Seeing a loose rope, I turned from him and bent forward slowly to pick it up. Straightening, I checked his growing bulge and smiled gently. “The girls really need to pay more attention,” I tutted theatrically, brushing against him when I moved to put the rope in the storage at the front.It was all too much for Escort Batıkent Dessie, who pushed me firmly back against the side of the trailer. Pinning me in place, he thrust a hand between my legs and rubbed hard against the khaki material.“Slut,” he growled, looking me in the eye with a mix of lust and contempt; a thrill of humiliation and arousal coursing through me. In the sexually charged silence that followed, he spun me around, pulled my left hand up, and held it against one of the wooden side struts. Fishing a cable tie from his back pocket, he bound me to the strut, tightening the tie over the leather of my gloved hand.“Dessie, what the hell do you think you are doing,” I remonstrated, with a look of shock and mild panic; watching helplessly as he did the same to my other hand.“You’re a stuck-up, prick-teasing, bitch,” he snarled, his leathery face inches from mine. Having moved to lock the side door, he re-joined me, breathing hard into my ear. Reaching forward, he began to unbutton my breaches. “It is high time you were taught a lesson,” he continued, yanking them down around the tops of my leather boots.I gasped and looked at him wide-eyed. “Are you going to teach me a lesson, Dessie,” I murmured, the cotton of my knickers dampening as my predicament became apparent. I was alone, tied up and helpless, with an angry and aroused middle-aged man in the back of a locked horse box. I was so turned on.“Oh, I’m going to punish you alright,” he muttered gruffly, tugging down my knickers and pushing my legs apart with his booted feet, so that the knicker elastic was fully stretched.My moan of arousal turned to one of panic, when I felt him reach down and pull the riding crop from where I had lodged it in my left boot. “What the hell do you think you are doing,” I demanded in a voice full of panic.“Teaching you a lesson,” he grinned, laying the leather keeper of the whip onto my exposed bum. “Not so full of yourself now, are we, your ladyship.”