The making of a Pony - By Henry

Part One


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The image that stared back at her from the mirror emanated the confidence  of a girl who years ago,  had resolved to be satisfied with her appearance.  Had the almighty given her the ability, at a younger age she undoubtedly would have chosen to look vastly different, but with time she had learned that “beauty is in the eye of the beholder” and she no longer gazed wistfully at the tall thin girls with the supposed “perfect” figures. 

Even if she had been born in an earlier time, when the standard of female beauty was a more full figured girl, she still would have been considered a robustly built, strong, sturdy girl.  Currently, with New York fashion defining beauty as tall, shapeless, anorexialy thin women with oversize breasts; her form was so far removed from this standard that she would naturally be referred to in most circles as “unattractive”; some would even refer to her as “fat”, though she knew that was incorrect: there was very little fat on her body.  Had she grown up in the city where she currently lived, she might now have a build that was somewhat more slight than that which she currently possessed.  Growing up in the country, where the livestock needed tended and fed and many strenuous chores required daily attention, had given her a robust physique, a physique which her body naturally tended toward anyway.   She wasn’t overly tall.  At five foot ten inches she near the height of many men; and though she was a big, impressively strong  girl; at least she wasn’t perceived as a giant when she stood next to the average man.

The man she was meeting today though a few inches shorter than herself, was still within a “tolerable” range she had rationalized to herself.  She had taken to running as a way to keep in shape, now that her daily routine was remiss of the exercise she used to naturally get back home. On her normal route and routine she had probably jogged past him many times and she couldn’t remember exactly when she started to take notice of him.  She had only become aware of him because he seemed to always take note of her as she passed.  This puzzled her at first because he seemed to be a most unlikely match for her; for as strong and sturdy as she was, he was the diametric opposite: thin and wiry with a light frame; almost frail in appearance when compared to her.  He had stopped her not long ago and asked her to meet him for coffee. 

That brief meeting had already occurred; sort of a “pre-date on neutral ground” as he had described it with a laugh “to determine if they could tolerate being near each other for a longer meeting”; and at the conclusion of this “pre-date” and by mutual consent, they had decided that a “real date” was in order.  This guy was clever, and he had wit and humor, and it might prove to be interesting to spend some time with him; still he was a far cry from the big, gorgeous, “hunk” that she dreamed about meeting and hopefully marrying some day.  None the less, there was something about him that fascinated her.  He was built so differently from the type of man she had been thinking about that the fact that she was even interested in dating him puzzled her.  There was something else about him that interested her, something that she couldn’t quite put her finger on too… well, at any rate,  she knew she would get to know this guy a little better and spend some time with him.  Men weren’t exactly beating her door down to date her,  and being a pragmatic girl, she figured that a date or two with this guy had to be better than sitting at home forever, waiting for “Mr. Right”.

…………………

He had to admit to himself that he looked forward with eager anticipation to his daily visit with the client on the far side of the industrial campus.  On the days when the weather even remotely allowed, he chose to walk the distance as opposed to drive; after all, the distance was only a mile and getting out into the open air was a welcomed change from the close-in office environment. As much as he enjoyed the outing though, he knew he wasn’t fooling himself; at least ever since he had spotted “her” that day, jogging down the same path he took.  Since that day he had attempted to synchronize his walk so that she would pass him somewhere on the path. 

What had started out as a innocent walk in the fresh air had turned into iterative attempts to catch a glimpse of her .  And why would he not want to?  She was the most impressive, beautiful woman he had seen in quite a while.  In a world where feminine beauty had been turned “upside down”, here was a girl that epitomized everything that he sought in his definition of a “beautiful girl”.  She had a gorgeous, round face and a flawless complexion; she had dazzling blue eyes and long jet-black hair: a combination that isn’t seen every day; but that wasn’t what attracted him to her.  What really caught his attention was her physique.  Here was a big, strong, powerfully built girl who seemed to be very at ease with herself.  She didn’t have the rippling muscles of a weight lifter (he wasn’t really into that), but she certainly wasn’t fat;  she had “all the right curves” in “all the right places” and he couldn’t help but be attracted to her.  He wasn’t a big guy himself, but he knew what he admired in women.

As she ran along she moved with a sure, easy stride, as if she could just go running along indefinitely.  At first, she hadn’t appeared to notice him and that didn’t surprise him.  Why should she?  His physique was the extreme opposite of hers.  At five foot eight inches but only one hundred twenty five pounds, he had been the root of endless ridicule to the jocks in High School. Jeers of “skinny” and “bean pole” followed him down the halls when he was in school.  Here in the office the people exhibited a bit more maturity, the women were smiling and kind, but few had been interested in dating him.  He couldn’t help how he looked;  he was the result of his genetics. Had he known that the same girls that ridiculed him for his slight build in High School would, in twenty years as their husbands put on endless pound after pound, admire him for his physique; he would have undoubtedly felt better about himself.  Had he known that at 40 years of age he would finally fill out as he should have in High School and weigh a respectable 145 lbs., staying at that weight for the rest of his life , he might have had a better feeling regarding his build; but all that was in the unforeseeable future.

On this day, all of that was out of his mind as she came around the curve and approached him. He couldn’t help but watch her as she ran toward him, such a beautiful woman needed to be admired.  A few weeks ago she had finally caught his stare, but she took it for the friendly smile for which it was intended and she had instinctively retuned a smile of her own.  He didn’t read anything into this, it was common to return a smile from a complete stranger with a smile yourself, that was in the culture.  Still, since that day, she had not failed to acknowledge him when they passed, and his smile was always returned with the same; nothing to read into this, just a pretty girl showing politeness to a stranger. 

This day however, would be different.  He wasn’t a school boy anymore and he chided himself for acting and thinking like one.  What was the worst thing that could happen?  She would reject him.  He’d been rejected before and probably would be again.  “Stop being so foolish about this”, he told himself;  so as she approached he crossed in front of her and motioned for her to stop.  He heard his voice ask her to join him for coffee at an appointed place and time, and he heard her reply to the affirmative. 

As they say in baseball, ”You don’t get hits if you don’t swing at the ball”.  Well, he had “bunted to first”, as they say.  It remained to be seen just how far this endeavor might go.

He was waiting at the coffee shop when she arrived.  She ordered her coffee and then sat across from him at the table in the cafe.  She was such an impressive girl;  he longed to pony ride her;  it had been in the for-front of his thoughts ever since he had  first seen her.  She was a girl built for riding;  of this he was convinced.  Her strong back, tapering down from her shoulders to a thinner but not that thin waist would be a delight to sit upon; and her strong shoulders, arms, hips, and thighs could carry him effortlessly and endlessly, for long enjoyable rides.  Convincing her to consent to the riding would be his dilemma.  He could hardly “wrestle her down” and sit on her “in the fun of the moment” as has he had done with a few other women.  That had worked before, but this girl probably outweighed him by a third of his own weight, and all of that appeared to be muscle.  He would lose a wrestling match with her were he to try and  he couldn’t count on her to  let him win;  she didn’t appear to be the kind of girl that would submit in that way.  No, she would need to be persuaded that she wanted him to ride her, but how could that be accomplished?

All that being said, she was a pleasing girl and a bright conversationalist.  Even without the riding, she had a certain appeal that attracted him to her.  He definitely wanted to meet with her again; he would figure out the “riding” later.