The Filly & The Stud Ch. 01

"What? That sex with younger men is often more exciting?"

"What?"

"Nothing."

Jennifer looked at the woman, who had suddenly become very interested in the two kitties rolling across the floor. Despite being somewhat incomplete, Tiglon was a scrapper. The cat was maybe half as old as his older brother, and clearly handicapped on his right side, but he had the weight advantage by about two pounds, plus he had the instincts of a cat who had lived outside most his life, and indomitable will. But his brother's left hook got him every time.

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing. You should really take your cats to one of those cat salons, especially the big one."

"You aren't sleeping around again, are you?"

"You make it sound so dirty."

"IT IS!" That came out louder than it should have, but Jennifer was trying to express the exasperation she felt. It had been almost two years ago now that she had called the police to the house next door, fearing for the safety of her friends as she heard screaming and breaking pottery. She had never seen a door battered down with a battering ram, but standing in her front yard, talking to a friend of hers who was a cop, it was rather interesting to see.

Rich and Angie were one of those couples that had over time drifted into the habit of infidelity, with all the bad clichés that went with it. Secretaries, pool boys, personal trainers of both sexes, and a host of others had serves as proxies in a battle between two personalities ill equipped to deal with an empty nest after years or marriage. She had gotten them help with a friend of hers who was a great marriage counselor, and she had thought she was seeing signs of recovery.

"I am not. But I still remember what it was like. And let me tell you...Rich is a good man, a great father, and a wonderful provider but let me be hones with you honey...I would give up most of that for the life of great sex that some of those men promised. Kids go away, and money doesn't really matter...but sex...wow."

"I'm going to leave that alone." Jennifer shook her head, continuously perplexed by some of the things that her friends believed in.

"Just think about it, honey." Angie smiled, and then rose to leave.

Jennifer watched her go, the two cats interested enough in all the commotion in the kitchen to temporarily stop fighting and start begging for treats by the door to the pantry, knowing fully well that's where they were kept. She sighed, but complied, knowing fully well that she should not give in to the aminals. "You guys are spoiled brats, you know that?"

But they just gave her blank looks, then went to town on the fish shaped treats she dropped before them. Like a good parent, she tried to give them each an equal number, but things never worked out that way, and they always wanted the one that the other one had, like good children. With a sigh she stood back up, walking over to the counter to answer the ringing phone.

"Hello?"

"Jennifer!" Angie's voice filled the phone in a harsh, conspiratorial whisper.

"Yes!" Naturally, this would have to be reciprocated.

"He's here!"

"Who?" But it was a bit tiring.

"The boy! He's outside your house..."

The rest of what she said got lost as the doorbell rang, and the cats raced towards the oak front door. They loved the front door, and they loved visitors, and she could see a form through the stained glass that made up the center of the door.

How could he have found her? And how would Angie know what he looked like? The doorbell rang again, and she put the phone down on the charger, hanging up on her friend, walking towards the door in an almost trance like state.

Liger loved the door the most, and he got pushed out of the way with a foot as she reached for the handle, took a deep breath, and opened it. It was him. It was him!

"Hey."

"Hi..."

"Sorry." He held out his hand, and she was stunned to see a bundle of wild flowers there. She took them, beckoning him to follow her inside, kicking the door shut.

They walked back into the kitchen, and she pulled out a vase and set the flowers in water on her breakfast table, then turned to the young man, who was looking at the pieces of art that hung on the wall going up the stairs.

"Nice digs."

"Thanks..."

"Listen, I'm really sorry about earlier. I ah...I kinda over reacted. It's just..."

"You don't have to explain yourself."

"Really?"

"No, it's ok. You can tell me when you are ready."

"Maybe fucking a shrink ain't so bad."

"How nicely said."

He smiled at her, a million watts of sexiness just oozing out of him, and flying across the air between them on the rays of his smile, striking her with almost physical force. Damn, he was hot! She tried to move, tried to say something, preferably something witty and sexy, but she would settle for charming, or maybe just not retarded, oh god, he was coming closer, her body was not moving, and then he walked over, taking her in his arms, and started kissing her.

They stood in her kitchen like that, just kissing, sucking each other's tongues and lips, nibbling, caressing, touching, fondling, feeling. He was taking his time, taking the time to kiss her until she was breathless, stoke her fire, make her want it, really want it, and then he pulled back, making her groan in frustration as she tried to pull off his pants, tried to get to what she wanted, needed, but he was only smiling at her.

"Get on your knees." He nodded at the floor, and willingly she sank down before him, watching him unzip his pants. His cock flopped out, slapping her in the face, and she opened her mouth, sucking him in, her hands grabbing his hips as he sunk his hand into her hair, and started fucking her face.

There was nothing gentle about it, nothing soft and loving. He grabbed her hair, and then his cock started pushing into her throat, making her gag a bit as she pursed her lips tightly around him, licking the head, sucking on it. She could hear him moan, could feel him pushing it deeper into her throat, making her take it.

"That's a good little filly. Suck that big cock, you little slut." He had pinned her head between the counter and his hips, fucking her mouth, the fat head punishing her tonsils and throat.

Reaching between her legs, she could not believe how wet she was, and under his harsh encouragement, she started playing with herself, rubbing her pussy, one hand on his big dick, the other on her clit, unable to contain the raging sexual energy shooting through her. She was barely aware of his arms reaching for her, and him lifting her onto the counter.

In a flash she was naked, and he was sucking on her tits, poking his cock into her wet pussy. She cried out as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in tight. She did the same, her legs squeezing him into her as he bit her neck, his balls slapping against her, cock pounding her little pussy into submission once more, making her moan and cry as the fire raced through her again.

"You like that, getting fucked by my big dick?"

"Ohhh...so good...so good." Her eyes were rolled back in her head, she could not believe now good it felt to have him inside of her, to feel his hips slapping against her. Pulling out, he bent her over the counter, and then pushed back into her from behind, reaching deep into her pussy, making her cry out as he began anew.

"I'm going to fuck you hard. Show you who's boss around here. Show you who that little pussy belongs to. You are my little filly, my little slut."

"Oh yes! Make me yours! I'll be all yours, all yours!"

"You gonna let me ass fuck you, you little whore?"

"Anything! Anything! Just please, please...ahhha..aaaah!" The sudden orgasm shook her, as he pinched her clit, driving her mad, holding her down and screwing her hard. She could not believe how good it felt to have him treat her like this, to be so brutal and vocal with her.

Jennifer had never been with a man who just decided one day that he would take her. She had never been in a situation where a man had planned to seduce her, then took her, and fucked her senseless. The feeling of helplessness that pervaded her was powerful, and it made the next orgasm that much sweeter, as she begged him to rail her little pussy, to fuck his slut, to take her, to have her, to use her.

He was hard, holding her tight, grabbing her to make her wince, the pain mixing with the pleasure to tickle her fancy, to make her beg for more, to tell him that yes, she was his little slut, his little filly, the one he could fuck any way he choose to. She saw the same lust in his eyes that she knew was written in hers, and when he came in her, he screamed her name.

Slowly he backed out, kissing her softly, a smile toying with the edge of his lips. "Wow...that was great. Thanks." He pushed her back down, pushing his cock into her mouth, making her suck it off, before he pulled her back up, and sat her on the counter, kissing her lips.

"Thanks for what?" She was trying to catch her breath, snuggling into him, feeling his powerful arms and back.

"I really needed that. I have a date tonight."

"Oh?" The flash of anger in her was immediate, but his smile did not dissipate in the face of the emotions suddenly written on her face.

"Yeah. So be ready at eight, I'm picking you up." Kissing her again, he turned and walked out the door.

She exhaled slowly, sliding off the counter on to the floor, closing her eyes. Jesus, she was 31, she couldn't take this emotional roller coaster. She knew who it was when the phone started ringing, and she just let it ring. It was bubble bath time.

Eight o'clock got there way too soon, and it was one of those days that women do not relish. Date. Date? Date! Such a simple word, and yet that was all it took to short circuit the part of the brain responsible for logical thinking, and fire up all the parts that do not respond to such silly ideas as reason, consideration, and thoughtfulness.

So she called in the heavy hitters to help her out. The panel consisted of Angie, the anxious neighbor; Stella, the most brilliant doctor and best looking woman in Charlotte (she had the tiara to prove it); and Maggie, the recently married to a professional football player, college friend. They all sat on the couch that ran the length of her bedroom wall between the door to the hallway, and the door to the bathroom, sipping wine, and critiquing her clothes.

"Skirt." Angie waved with the stem of her glass.

Stella giggled somewhat derisively in reply, "you always say skirt."

"Because skirt says flirt," Maggie agreed from the other side of the bench. "I second the skirt. With boots. Those right there."

"Second that. How about that red blouse you bought the other day..." Angie and Maggie at least seemed to be in agreement.

"Red blouse might be to much." And yet Stella was still resistant.

"Good point. You know, I really like the Santa Fe motif in here."

"You mean these earth tone walls? That's just tacky. I say skirt, boots, and the blue top." Waving her hand, Stella pointed to the clothes she was indicating.

"What if it's not fancy?"

"Skirt is always in style. Go with heels and the white crop you have."

"You could not have any shoes on when he comes to the door, and kind of fish for what you are doing. It is your prerogative as a woman to take at least fifteen minutes after he arrives to get ready."

"Where did you get this wine, this is amazing? "

Jennifer rolled her eyes as her friends chattered incessantly. Really what they provided was white noise, so that the thoughts spinning out of control in her own head did not start yelling so loud that she lost her damn mind. With a deep sigh, she stepped back into her walk in closet, slipped into the skirt and boots, and pulled on the white top indicated.

"How about this?"

The verdict was two thumbs up, and one thumb sideways, kinda wiggling up and down. Good enough. Walking back into her bathroom, she looked at herself in the full sized mirror, trying to decide what the point of all this was. David had seen her naked, and thought enough of the experience to come back and bang her brains out on her kitchen counter. What more could you ask for?

So when the time came, she was sitting in her living room, trying to focus on the issue of "Psychology Today" that had been waiting in her mailbox when she came home this morning, but her mind was wandering off, until finally the doorbell rang, and she stood.

He was dressed in fashionably clean jeans, which had been heavily starched, and creased. The black boots were polished to a high gloss, and the t-shirt today was a long sleeved white affair, made popular by the likes of Vin Diesel. He looked much better in it, she decided, as he took her into his arms, and laid one on her.

The kiss left her short of breath and swooning, with a massive smile on her face, so he laid another one on her, and he had to tighten his grip to keep her upright. They stood there, just like that in the doorway to her house, holding each other, giving each other the "stupid smile", so he kissed her again, then pulled her up.

"You ready? Wow, you look hot. Nice fuck-me boots."

"You like 'em?"

"Yeah, you can keep those on later." He pulled her tight, rubbing her tits through the soft material of her top, making her moan. "Damn woman, you make me so horny. I could just throw you on that couch and fuck your brains out."

"I turn you on that much?" She was surprised by that. She felt the hard cock in his pants, but she was not sure how much of that was just young hormones. He was a hot young stud, and she enjoyed the way his big cock always made her cum, but his level of excitement over her truly surprised her.

"Oh yeah." He pushed inside, kicking the door shut, and it was not long after that he was buttoning his pants back up, watching her swallow the last of his cum.

"So, ah..."

"Dinner, then we are going out. Sorry, I was a bit excited earlier. I could only be away from the stables so long before things go crazy down there, and I used up more then the allotted amount of time getting lucky with this hot lady I know."

"You are so cute." This time she iniated the kiss.

She had never ridden a motorcycle. It was just not something that had ever entered into her life, not something that she had encountered along her road to becoming a certified psychiatrist. But he seemed totally unperturbed by this, as he helped her onto the bike, and rolled out of the driveway.

"Shouldn't we be wearing helmets?"

"Not required by state law. And I won't spill us, don't worry. If we do go down, tuck your chin and slide on my back."

"Ohh, great plan!"

"Relax and hold on." And she did just that.

Actually, she had to admit once they started rolling, it was a fairly smooth ride. Unlike the crotch rocket samurai's that always wanted to race her on the interstate, the two of them were not in some uncomfortable forward leaning position, with their bodies basically glued to the bike. His bike was of the cruiser kind, with her sitting slightly above and behind him, and his handlebars extending waaaaaaaaaay up, before they dropped down into his hands. He kept his promise, and she didn't think they went above fifty at any point as they cruised down Providence towards uptown.

There was something else to it, and she was not sure if it was because it was her first time on a motorcycle, of if it was because her arms were wrapped about this most lovely young man, but she had never really noticed how beautiful the city got as it turned to spring, the flowers blooming, the smells, the sounds. Maybe that's what you get for being trapped in a car, she thought.

He pulled into one of the new "motorcycle parking area's" that had started populating uptown, and helped her off, pulling her close as she twisted her leg over, his kiss fierce and determined. "You like something big, black, and hard rumbling between your legs?"

"Uhmmm...it does put me in the right mood for the night." They kissed again, then he led her inside.

The place was one of the new restaurants that seemed to constantly be springing up like mushrooms after the rain. Most of them did not survive a year, but this one looked like it might have potential. Of course, they all did. The décor was a rather eclectic combination of southwestern and industrial, with lots of soft lighting, earthen tones, and polished chrome as they were lead to a table in the back.

David pulled her seat out for her, then slid into the one off to her side, kissing her softly. "I read somewhere that you shouldn't give your date the full frontal, but sit off to the side to lessen the blow."

"Wow, you read?"

For a second he was stunned, then he grinned right back, and kissed her again. She felt his hand slide under her ass, rub it for a second, then under her skirt, and he nodded appreciatively as he felt her thong. "Nice."

"I hope you like it."

"You planning on showing it to me later?"

"I hope so."

"You're going to get ass fucked, you know that, right." He said it with such confidence, and his finger rubbing her pussy through the material of her underwear underscored how sure he was of himself. She could only nod, feeling herself react. "You want it, don't you?"

Again she could only nod, leaning her face down as he nuzzled her ear, and whisper how he was going to force her down again, and make her take it, put his cum up her ass, make her his little slut, fuck her brains out and make her beg for more. Her breath caught as he nibbled on her ear, as his fingers squeezed her clit, then she felt his strong arm wrap around her, holding her as she softly orgasmed.

She leaned into him, trying to catch her breath, feeling his strong arm envelop and hold her, as he softly kissed her forehead, whispering in her ear. "My little filly. That's what I'm here for, to give you all the big cock you can handle. Clearly, your little slut pussy has not been getting fucked enough."

"No...no, it hasn't."

"See...so you want me to fuck your ass, don't you? You want me to take you home, be rough with you, make you a little whore."

"Yesss..." She surprised herself, eyes closed, the soft ripples of another one rolling through her. She moaned softly, and they kissed for a long time.

He let her recover for the rest of dinner, and she was again surprised as he ordered for her. He even got her a glass of wine, but explained that he did not drink when riding the motorcycle. She thought that sensible, and could not help but smile when he told her that he might get her drunk, and take advantage of her.

After dinner, he insisted they share a piece of cheesecake, most of which he feed to her, a slow, sensual dance that she had to admit he did really well, and that she really enjoyed. He had pulled her chair so close to his she might as well have been sitting on his lap, and his soft touches, and continuous kissing was having an obvious effect on her. But it was clear that release was not yet forthcoming, as he paid the bill, and they walked out into the falling darkness.

Instead of turning right, and heading towards the bike, he turned them left and they walked down the slopping street towards the bars and clubs that populated uptown. At the intersection they turned left again, up the slope now a bit, then into what had once been a trash-strewn alley filled with the debris of drug abusers and those who thought bodily functions were okay if you hid behind a trash pile.

But that had been years ago, before developers bought up all the land, cleaned it up, and cut new doors for new clubs and bars into the walls of the buildings, hung a lot of neon, and turned it into what social observers might call "a trendy spot." He pulled her in tight, kissing her again, as they pushed through the crowd, coming to the line of people waiting to get into the Liquid Lounge.