Riding fetish revived

I harbored a riding fetish for quite a while some years ago, I blogged about it a few times but it petered out eventually as these things tend to. Well the old spark was reignited when I got my bottom whipped in jodhpurs and it still makes me mentally wince but squeeze my legs together when I think about it

We'd been out on one of our 'exercise walks', it isn't far from where we live to country fields and one often has horses grazing. On this particular evening, which was warm, a couple of riders were saddling up if that's the right expression, man and woman, I couldn't tell their ages as they were turned away from us, but they were fit looking and handled their tasks easily, we stopped briefly and watched them get on, thought they might come out onto the lane, but they didn't, instead they cantered off towards a copse. P made some lewd comment about the woman's bottom which seemed to move in rhythm with the glossy flanks of the horse. I laughed and told him he shouldn't be noticing such things but pleased that he did.

Anyway on the way back, which was nearly an hour later, we came along the same lane and the horses, or some horses, had clearly been out on the lane after and left their smell and their manure on the tarmac and partly the pavement. There are houses set back along that part of the lane and I said kids and maybe mothers with pushchairs had to get by and I thought they should be made to clear up their mess. Just like dog owners do.

P disagreed. He said the only pushchairs I'd likely see would be shoved in the back of Range Rovers and the kids along there didn't play out or walk to school. I still said it was wrong, but he said it was good to keep country traditions and there was nothing wrong with the smell of fresh manure, someone would come and scoop into a bucket for their runner beans. He laughed and asked what I would rather see, them having to dismount and shovel it up somehow? Perhaps being spanked if they don't clean up after them? I felt my cheeks colour up as he said it and I know he noticed, and he put his hand on my bottom which made me murmur. A dog walker was coming towards us with two labradors, and we stopped and chatted, it broke the moment.

So the day after, completely unexpected as nothing further had been said about the horses, I came out of the shower into the bedroom and found my old jodhpurs lying on the bed with a little note 'wear them'. Oh god, I felt weak at the knees, he must have brevetted through my stuff to find them it was a very determined thing to do and there could surely only be one outcome and it wouldn't involve horses. I got into them with a bit more difficulty than I remembered. I didn't have a riding top but I had a short white linen shirt, so I put that on and smoothed it into the waistband before zipping up. I glanced in the mirror, I'd put a few pounds on maybe but did my bottom look anything like that woman's? I couldn't tell, so I bent forward and craned my neck to try and get the view P would have if he was going to spank me which I was pretty certain he was. And I was excited I don't mind admitting.

I went out to find my husband, he'd been in the office before I showered, so I opened the door and went in. He had a proper shirt on and pressed trousers, no tie but nonetheless smart, the sort of thing he'd wear for a formalish meeting. Oh fuck he was definitely going to. I even saw the riding crop on the desk. Butterflies started. He reminded me of our walk the other night and minor disagreement about how riders should behave, but he hadn't really needed to, I didn't need any priming. I was a tremble and gaspy and even slightly weirdly shy and I could have cum in my jodhpurs I was really on the edge. I whispered 'Do it hard P', he asked me to repeat a little louder, hadn't quite heard. 'Do it hard P,' I repeated then added 'Please'.

My husband gently but firmly guided me to the desk and told me to bend over. 

I arched my back to exaggerate by buttocks knowing full well what I was doing. If he just touched between my legs at that point I'm sure I would have cum. Instead, he positioned to the side and brought the riding crop down against my naughty bottom and I screeched in shrill pain and joy as I jerked at the excruciating sharpness but hurried to get my bottom back into position. Twelve or more times I thrust my bottom back for more, as lasciviously as I could each time screaming and whimpering girlishly as each stroke scalded my bottom. The cumming feeling had gone that was for sure and oh my god the fire in my backside raging. P told me I could get up, I had tears in my eyes and wanted him to see them as I turned towards him and said 'Thank you'. He didn't say anything just hugged me and I felt bulge in the front of his trousers. I didn't want him to fuck me I wanted the pain to stay as it was not be overpowered by endorphins, so I slid my hand down and unzipped him, then got on my knees and took him in my mouth. It didn't take long for him to explode with a roar and I took most of it down my throat, licking him as he slowly eased out to save the drips going on his trousers.

I got to cum much later in the day and it was beautiful and urgent and messy but it wasn't what will stay with me from that day and for some time to come. I think my old riding fetish may be starting a new lease of life.

Stay safe. Have a good week.

Ronnie
xx

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