A Chance Encounter Revisited, by Paladin (Chp 1)

A Chance Encounter Revisited Chp 1

“Are you here to surf or just to perv?”

I pushed myself up onto one elbow and shaded my eyes to better see the young woman standing about a metre away.  She was athletically built with sea-drenched, blond hair sending interesting drops of water running down her shoulders to slip across sun bronzed curves. Her sky blue bikini accentuated her soft curves and tantalising muscle tone.

Aware of my scrutiny she reacted by placing her hands on her hips in a challenging way rather than getting embarrassed. I smiled, “I’m here to have some time out, read and relax. Perving at surfer girls is just a bonus.”

She grinned at that and pushed a loose strand of hair off her face. “It’s a bit early for you family types to be turning up to this beach. We normally get this section to ourselves for a good month or so.”

“Family types eh? Shouldn’t you be in a classroom somewhere?”

“Uni’s been out for a couple of weeks now,” she replied.

“Well that’s what happens when us old, family types forget our glasses.” I laughed and she relaxed a bit more. Mentally I compared her to the young red-head I ridden a couple of months earlier in a hotel. The surfer girl was a bit taller, not as toned but with more curves. Her hair streamed down her back and the thought of it gripped tightly in my hand made me smile.

“What are you thinking about?” She asked with the kind of grin that let me know what she was assuming.

“Something very different from what you would be guessing.” I told her. “Nothing dangerous,” I added with a laugh. 

“Coke,” I offered her a can from my chilly bin. She looked it over carefully then sat down.

“Doesn’t look like it’s been tampered with so I doubt I’ll wake up in the boot of your station wagon.”

I roared with laughter. “It’s a sports car so no boot and it’s a convertible so I couldn’t even tie you to the roof. Sorry but it looks like calories are about the worst that I can do.”

She smiled and took a long drink while I looked along the empty beach. “You don’t surf alone do you?”

She rolled her eyes, “I’m a big girl now dad and I’ve been surfing this beach since I was 10.” She looked at me a bit more intently, “so if you’re not planning on drugging me and selling me off into slavery what are you planning to do?”

I shrugged, “clearly I didn’t plan well enough ahead when it comes to the whole abduction/slavery thing but I did bring a book and I did leave my phone behind.”

“Boring,” she decided. “You must be able to have more fun than that?”

I sat up further and made eye contact, “I can have a lot more fun than that but…,” I let the silence gather, knowing she would fill it.

“But what?” she raised a cheeky eyebrow.

“But my idea of fun requires a very specific type of personality.”

“I don’t get it,” she took another drink.

“Well most people would say they look for someone attractive, like yourself,” she smiled at that. “But I look for inner strength. For someone who seeks a challenge, and who wants to push their understanding of themselves. A person with a spark of difference.”

She bit her lip and looked a little nervous. “I’m not sure if that’s me,” she said.

I shrugged, “maybe, maybe not. Clearly though your very independent and willing to take challenges. I met a girl about your age a couple of months ago she kind of stumbled into the situation but it fired up her competitive nature.” I smiled at the memory. “In the end she loved the experience and I doubt she’s forgotten it.”

She rocked forward onto her knees, moving closer to me. I tried very hard not to let my gaze wander down to her bikini top. “Tell me what it is.”

“Ponyplay.”

She frowned, obviously not sure what I meant.

“I enjoy riding women like they’re ponies.”

“You mean like on all fours?”

“Yes the girl is on all fours and I sit on their back and ride them.”

“Weird.” She glanced over her shoulder as if imagining me sitting on her back. “Why do you like that?”

“I love the feel of a woman’s back under me. The way their backs curve down from the hips then up under me rising to their shoulders. The movement of muscles against me as they walk or canter. I love the sounds my ponies make as they first take the strain of my weight settling on them and the gasps as I urge them on when they start to tire. Then there’s the trembling in their limbs as they reach the edges of their stamina but have to continue. For some riders that’s more than enough. Most of all though I love the battle for submission.”

I sat back and drank some of my coke to give her time to absorb what I’d said. Time to make her excuses and leave if she now wanted to. She stayed so I continued.

“When I first ride a pony girl she tries to carry me not realising that that’s not a true pony ride. After a while she begins to feel my commands, my heels on her thighs, my hand on her backside and my grip on her hair and she starts to follow them but inwardly she still feels that she is in control. Then I begin to truly ride her.”

The surfer girl was watching me intently now, her can of coke forgotten.

“Once my pony girl is pushed beyond the point where she would normally stop, when she is physically challenged to the edge of her stamina that’s when she begins to realise that I am riding her and she is no longer ‘carrying’ me. Then every shift of my body, every change of position or a simple word becomes all she thinks about.”

“So then she’s submitted to you,” she said.

“Nearly,” I replied. “True submission comes when she struggles for every step and her backs bows deeply under me but she craves every command I give her. Some have begged me to ride them even as their arms are collapsing.”

“What about the girl a couple of months ago?”

“She was physically very strong and fought longer than most can and she was also very strong willed. To show that she’d truly submitted to me she had to beg me to let her submit before I allowed it.” I savoured the memory of my red haired pony girl glistening with perspiration as she collapsed to the roof-top mats. She’d rolled onto her back so that I could straddle her heaving chest and she had punctuated each of her pleas for mercy with a soft kiss or touch of her tongue to my inner thighs.

 “I’m not even sure if I could hold you’re weight,” she said a little hesitantly.

“Would you like to try? If it’s too hard you only have to say so and we’ll stop.”

“How do we start?” she asked.

“Alright lets find a nice smooth patch of sand.” I led her to a space free of any sticks or shells. “Now kneel down then move onto all fours.”

She dropped to her knees and then rocked forward onto all fours. I waited while she settled her hands. “Should I hold my back really tight and arched?” She asked.

“No that’s not necessary, just keep your back in it’s normal position and as I lower my weight here,” I put my hand on the lovely curve of her back,  “just tighten your muscles until you feel comfortable holding me up.”

I admired the lovely shape she made before stepping over her. I placed one hand between her shoulder blades and felt her shiver with anticipation. I lowered myself slowly, until I was just resting on her back. “I’m gong to keep lowering my weight now, okay?” She nodded and I sat down, more and more until I lifted my feet off the ground and all my weight was resting in the lovely natural saddle of her back.

“How does that feel?” I asked.

“Nowhere near as hard as I thought. Did I make a sound when you first sat on me?”

I smiled, she was already challenging herself, measuring her performance against my earlier description. “I’ll tell you later,” I answered. “Do you think you can move?”

She responded by taking a few small steps forward then stopped. “How was that?’

“Pretty impressive actually. If you’re feeling brave lets try something a little harder?”

“Okay. Are you actually enjoying this?’

“Shhh,” I gathered her long hair up into my right hand then gave her thighs a light tap with my heels. She moved forward slowly then as I tugged gently on her hair she turned right, then back to the left. Before I could pull back on her hair she stopped. “Alright?” I asked.

“Sorry I thought you wanted me to stop.”

“That’s okay. Lets try something else. How high can you arch your back?”

She pushed me up high and then dropped back down. I laughed loving the feel of the curve of her back as I slid back down into it. Instinctively she did it again, “I’m bucking like a horse,” she said with a laugh. As she dipped I pulled her head back more firmly. Her back curved ever more under me and she let out a delightful gasp. I let my blond rein slip through my fingers and tapped her thighs. She moved at an even pace allowing me to thoroughly enjoy the feel of her body under mine. 

I gently guided her so that we moved steadily towards the shore. As the sand grew firmer I gave her backside a little smack. My surfer ponygirl squealed but moved faster. I reined her in as the first wave lapped against her hands.

“Buck,” I instructed her. She hesitated then bounced me vigorously up and down. When she stopped I could feel her ribs expanding against my calves as she breathed deeply.

“This gets tiring pretty quickly doesn’t it?” She asked me.

I stayed sitting comfortably on her back.

“Am I still carrying you or are you riding me now?” She asked when I didn’t respond.

“You’ve done amazingly well to carry me so far and I think you’d make an incredible ponygirl. You’re strong, powerful and spirited.”

“And I look great in a bikini,” she added.

“You do look great in a bikini,” I agreed. “But, no I’m not riding you yet. Do you want me to?”

She paused thinking about it.

Curious I gathered up her hair again and drummed my heels against her thighs. She moved quickly, splashing through the shallows. “Well I guess that answers that question,” I commented.

She splashed through the shallows without answering. It was a beautiful day on a magnificent beach and under me was an untried ponygirl. I guided her back up onto the firmer sand. “Alright ponygirl we’re going to try a canter and then I’m going to ride you properly. Giddy-up!”