I’m currently doing rewrites/edits on some earlier stuff of mine from way back that I intend to publish in a volume of ponygirl stories. There will be one or two new ones included. One is promising to be Romantic Erotica, the incestuous cousin, I suppose, of Erotic Romance, and I am quite tickled at the thought of writing it because I don’t think I’ve ever seen a ponygirl story treated that way. Or a ponygirl element in any romantic tale, anyway.
Here’s a short snippet of what will be the mildest story in the collection, which is pony more by association (it has to do with shenanigans on a carousel) than character.
She put one foot into the cold stirrup of the saddle and hoisted herself onto the horse’s back. The quilts helped deter the cold. As a child, this horse had seemed huge to her. Now she knew it was nowhere near the size of an actual stallion, even though it was large enough still to accommodate an adult…or two.
She sat in saddle but faced backwards, resting her back against the pole.
She nodded as he came back with the harness. It was something he had crafted just for this. He buckled one long piece of leather around her waist, then down and around to secure her to the horse’s barrel, then crossed a second one over her breasts to secure her to the pole. “Sorry for the kink, darlin’. But we don’t want you falling off now, do we?”
“Oh no, of course not.” Another strip secured her wrists at the small of her back. She was helpless. The feeling was delicious.
He kissed her, his mouth was the promise of pleasure to come. He kissed her breasts. She felt her flesh suffuse with sensation like ripples on a pond. Then, a blindfold, a length of dark silk that knotted easily behind her head.
“Don’t be long,” she whispered.
“I don’t intend to.”