I come back to Jen's cabin one afternoon to rest and I spot Jen in a shiny black spandex catsuit riding her white horse at a good speed, every step the horse took Jen's cellulite booty would bounce and so would her boobs under all that spandex, I take a corner and snap pictures of her, eventually she gets off her horse, petting it, grooming it while she sang like a angel, my erection was massive, I dreamt of riding that horse with her while naked and holding on to her while she wore that catsuit and my cock just rubbing on her ass and my hands gripping her tits covered in spandex, her nipples between my fingers. I found myself unzipping my pants and stroking my hard cock while she bent over to pick up the water bucket, I was in a trance so deep, eyes eased open while still jerking off, she locked eyes me, but she had a plain face, no reaction to my pants unzipped and camera around my neck. I bolted out of there, took a long shower hoping my girlfriend will show up, coast seem clear,. Alan considered the flight of the flowers. He regarded the parabolic passage of the perfumed posey with his analytical mind, accustomed as it was to a long and majestic career of designing and building a successful series of light aircraft and gliders. He calculated that he lay within the flightpath of the arrangement of blossoms and, being jostled by anxious female forms on all sides, was unable to make a tactical withdrawal. He put his hands together instinctively, cricket slips fashion, when, in a flurry of flying petals, the bouquet was snatched away in front of his face to an accompaniment of a single whoop of triumph and a chorus of disappointment. He could see the shapely back of the champion catcher, her long slim bare arm held aloft her trophy in triumph, her thick dark brown hair cascading over her broad bare shoulders hiding the spaghetti straps holding up her shimmering china blue silk dress. She was tall, perhaps five-ten or eleven. She turned, just half a metre or so.
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