Beth and Ethan

by pr_squared

Boys competed eagerly for places in the Cady Stanton Riding Program.  Freshmen and sophomores, called bugs, wore drab gray uniforms and worked under the supervision of the Bug Mother and her assistants.  At the end of their sophomore year, the bugs were assessed for size and conditioning by the Program Director, Bug Mother, and the senior jockeys.  Most were rejected.

       Each year a eight or ten are found large and strong enough to serve as possible mounts.  They were sent to learn about tack and saddles at an intense summer program under the direction of experienced riders and in the Fall, are assigned to a trainer.

       Ethan’s mother was deeply interesting in racing and his house was filled with racing souvenirs and paraphernalia.  No one was surprised when Ethan tried out for the Riding program.  He was known as a hard worker but a mount needed adequate size to carry a rider.  Many were surprised by the growth spurt at the end of his Freshman year and his qualifications were obvious at the end of his Sophomore year.  His mother had chosen her sperm donor wisely.  That summer, he learned to bear a Pony’s saddle, bridle, and control rods.    He was worked hard by the experienced equestriennes.  He quickly gained strength and stamina to match his great heart.

       Ethan wore the blue and gold Suffragette colors when Beth, a new freshman, first saw him.  He stood proudly in his tack and saddle.  Sheridan, a senior girl, ordered him down and he dropped smartly to one knee.  She showed Beth how to grasp his bridle and mount.  Beth swallowed her trepidation.  She had ridden before though and had no lack of moxie.   She grasped his bridle in her right hand and lifted her right foot to his muscular thigh.  She swung her left leg over his neck and neatly mounted the large creature.  That first day, he only walked with Beth in the saddle and Sheridan leading him but Beth’s potential as a jockey quickly became apparent. 

       At first, Ethan ran under Sheridan who taught him to respect the control rods and answer promptly to her crop.  He learned to run with a rider.  He learned to sprint.  His strength and stamina increased further. 

Beth learned too.  She learned to help a mount don and doff his gear.  She learned to ride at the walk, jog, stride, and finally sprint.  She learned to use the tools of her trade, the control rods and crop.  She learned to bring her mount to an all out sprint and how to keep his speed under control.  She learned exit the starting gate cleanly and to negotiate the press of bodies at the start as jockeys and mounts tangled for inside position.  She learned to read her mount to know just what she might ask of him.  Some mounts required strong encouragement while others required restraint lest they exhaust themselves too soon.  Too many novice jockeys failed to read the warning signs and blew their mount too early.  If their mount didn’t collapse under them, they staggered painfully across the finish line lagging behind the rest of the field.  Beth had the small stature, physical courage, and will to win of a champion.  She also seemed to have a special rapport with her mounts.

       Ethan ran under the other exercise girls and jockeys, but Beth was his favorite.  Though only a freshman, she was ranked second among the jockeys by the end of the year.  In her sophomore year, she enjoyed breaking in the green mounts who had just graduated the summer program but Ethan carried her to a number of victories for the Cady Stanton Suffragettes in dual meets against the neighboring high schools, the Steinham Valkyries, the Freidan Freedom Riders, and the Greer Riot Grrls.  She and Ethan would go to Sectionals.

II

       The long drive to the Sectionals  had been difficult for Ethan.  This was his first year.  He had been uncomfortable riding alone in the close confinement of the pony trailer.  Beth had ridden up front in the car with her coach and her best friend Amy.  Beth noted his nervousness and uncharacteristic ill-temper when she led him down the ramp and to his stall.    Riders and mounts were arriving in scores for the Sectional race the following day and the tumult and noise elicited a palpable unease.  Her light conversation did little to relieve Ethan’s anxiety.  He settled poorly in the unfamiliar stall.  Finally,. Beth apologized to Amy and decided to spend the night with her mount rather than in the motel with the others.  Amy wasn’t pleased in the least and promised to come by first thing in the morning.

       Beth showed Ethan where he might attend to nature’s call and gave him a few moments privacy.  She found something for him to eat and urged him to lie down in the straw.  She had her jeans and bulky hooded sweatshirt.  Ethan had only his trunks.  She covered his large body with a coarse blanket and spread her blankets right next to him.  She assured him that she’d be right back and left to see to her own needs, securing the stable door behind her.

She returned and slipped into her blankets.  The stables were poorly heated and the damp chill drove Beth ever closer to her large, warm mount.

Ethan derived real comfort from her close presence, the quiet sounds of her soft breathing and her familiar fragrance.  Once upon a time, such an arrangement would never have been allowed.  Most would have thought the petite young woman at risk for virtue and even life from the hormonally crazed adolescent male.   Those times were safely in the past.  Beth was his jockey and Ethan was her mount. 

Ethan’s skin felt deliciously warm to Beth’s cold hands.  Sleeping, he seemed totally unaware of her frigid touch.  She snuggled even closer and her nearness seemed to quiet him.  She ran her hands gently over the strong muscles of his bare back and flanks.  He did not stir when she lightly kneaded his powerfully built buttocks. Finally, she rested her frigid hands  between his brawny thighs. 

Inadvertently, Beth brushed his bulging ball sac.  Ethan was intact, while most of the older certified mounts had been gelded.  Intact males were notoriously distractible, lazy, and prone to violence.  However, elite riders usually preferred intact males because their greater competitive spirit and special bond that might be forged.  Ethan was too young for such considerations.

Beth felt Ethan relax at her touch.  His body’s warmth cut the chill and soon Beth fell asleep also.

Beth awoke first in the dim light before dawn.  Ethan slept soundly.  Nestled between his muscular thigh, her hands were snug and warm.  A mischievous notion seized her, she slid her hand carefully up the inside of his thigh.  The coarse hairs tickled her palm.  She slipped her hand inside the cuff of Ethan’s trunks and stroked his muscular buttock.  She imagined how he’d look with her brand.  Some day she would own a string of boys.  She grinned wickedly and reached for his sex.  As she guessed, her Ethan boasted his morning erection.  She encircled his girth between her thumb and index finger.  He sighed.  Beth froze motionless, then carefully removed her hand.  He did not wake.

III

The field was unusually large at the Sectional meet.  The ponies and their jockeys lined up shoulder to shoulder in the starting gate, eager for the final race to begin.  Beth and Ethan, in Suffragette blue and gold,  had done well in the preliminary races and stood third of ten from the inside rail.  The start was delayed until the track could be cleared.  Beth and the other jockeys worked frantically to calm their anxious mounts.   The doors opened and Ethan surged forward, leaving the gate cleanly.  Beth brought down her stick sharply to send him forward.  A whip cracked and the mount to her right hand panicked and jumped inside.  Ethan swerved and shot inside to avoid him only to collide with the mount to his left.  Mounts and jockeys went down in a jumble of arms and legs.  Somehow, Ethan avoided the pile-up and kept his feet. It wasn’t pretty but he won!

Ethan was still in high spirits from his hard-won victory.  The race had been grueling.  Breath came only raggedly and with effort.  His muscular chest still heaved from exertion.  His powerfully built legs still wobbled and trembled unsteady.  Utter glee and slowly resolving oxygen debt contributed to his giddiness.

       Beth was exhilarated too.  She simply loved to win.  She wore her best leather boots, the brightly colored blue and gold silk top and white jodhpurs of the of the Cady Stanton Suffragettes.  Spurs were not allowed in the high school division.  Ethan wore only trunks, shoes, socks, his saddle, and tack.  In high school meets, the mounts always wore shorts.  After high school, males always ran naked except for their gear.

       Beth knelt at Ethan’s feet to help remove his shoes.  Her Ethan was quite able to take off his own shoes but this was something that a jockey always did for her mount.  She had always dreamed of being a jockey.  She sat in Ms. Collins class and cringed at her teacher’s vivid retelling of the horrors of the Patriarchal Age.  She gave thanks that she lived in a more enlightened time.  Some day she would own her own string of ponyboys.  She half listened to Ms. Collins’ frightening tales, half-glanced at the frightening images she presented, and filled her notebook with various designs for her personal brand or mark.

       Ethan bent at the waist, rested his large hands on his muscular thighs, and caught his breath  He felt his strong thigh muscles quiver with fatigue.  He looked down at Beth, kneeling at his feet as she wrestled with his stubborn laces, and tried to catch a whiff of the faint fragrance of her perfume.  She was small, but she wielded the damned whip with great energy and unwanted strength.  The laceration on his body showed her handiwork.  She loved to win every bit as much as he.  Perspiration had darkened the bright colors of her racing silks.  She usually smelled of soap and understated perfume  Now a more primal scent admixed with the others and yielded an even more alluring fragrance.  He thought just perhaps to bend a bit further and nuzzle her sweat-damped hair.

Just then Beth looked up to see him staring down at her. Ethan dwarfed the smaller woman.  “Ethan, lift your foot, she said, brooking no nonsense.

Ethan stopped and did as he was told.  Beth slipped off one shoe and stocking and then the other shoe and sock in turn.  She inspected his feet for any injuries. An army marched on its belly but a pony ran on his feet.

Her task completed, Beth stood.  Her usually deft fingers fumbled with his belts and straps as she helped him from his saddle and tack.  His perspiration had made everything slippery.

       “Mount,” she said and Ethan dropped to his left knee in the ‘mount’ position.  To mount, Beth would grab hold of his bridle with her right hand, step up onto his broad thigh with her right foot and swing her left leg over this muscular neck.  Today, Beth reached forward to remove the bridle.

       Kneeling, Ethan’s eyes were at the level of her chest.  He studied her blouse and cursed the pearl white buttons that held it closed.  He saw the outline of her pert breasts beneath her silks.  Perspiration had made the material translucent. He might just lean a bit forward and press his cheek against her inviting chest.

       “Great race, Beth!” exclaimed Amy as she pushed into the stall.  She startled Ethan and he straightened quickly with Beth never learning of his intent.  Amy was tall.  Not just taller than her petite friend but tall and long legged.  “you did the Suffragettes proud. For a moment, I was certain that that cock-sucking Steinham Valkyrie bitch would beat us,” Amy confessed.  Steinham and Cady-Stanton High Schools were long-time bitter rivals.

       “Great mounts make great riders.  I never doubted Ethan would win,” Beth said.

       “Great race, Ethan – Beth -  really,” gushed Madison, one step behind.  “give the poor bugger some credit too.  He did all the work.”

       “Not quite all the work,” insisted Beth. “My whip arm will be stiff and sore in the morning.  I may even have a blister from gripping it too tightly.” She studied her hand.

       “Poor baby.  I’ll give you some ibuprofen.  Just look at poor Ethan.”  Amy pointed to the red streaks that Beth’s crop had inflicted on his flanks and thighs as she brought him in a winner.  Several of the deeper gashes still shed dribbles of blood

       “He’s really magnificent, Beth,” Madison said, looking admiringly at Ethan.

       Madison helped Beth with Ethan’s tack and Ethan thoroughly basked in all this feminine attention.

       “Ethan, you are quite a fellow!”  Beth admitted to Ethan. “I’ve been trying to get Amy to ride you,” she explained to her friends, “forever!  Every time, she chickens out.  You’re really a great mount.  Here, let me show you off for my friends.”  She looked directly at Ethan.

       “No,” Ethan retorted.  “I know what you want.  Never!” 

       “Ethan,” she smiled.  She felt a bit ridiculous arguing with her mount, even if he was her Ethan.  “Take off those silly shorts Let them see you.  You’ve got a great body and no reason in the world to be ashamed.  Like Madison said, you’re really magnificent.”

       Ethan looked at Beth.  He saw no sign she would back down.    Then he appealed wordlessly to Amy and Madison.  Their faces betrayed their amusement.

       “You know, Ethan, you haven’t got anything we haven’t seen before,” Madison explained matter of fact, “and we’ve probably seen better.”  Ponies ran naked except for their gear in the senior division. One could see riders and their mounts in the park all the time.  One could see races on the flat screen in super high definition. 

Ethan thought hard for a long moment.  “Tell you what.  I’ll take off my clothes for you, Beth, but only if you take off your clothes for me.”  Ethan smiled broadly at his clever stroke.  He looked to Amy and Madison to sanction his victory.

       

       Amy and Madison were shocked by his temerity.  Now Beth’s face revealed her shock.  Temporarily stymied, she  thought very carefully before she spoke.

       Ethan felt pretty good about himself.  He had strong feelings for Beth.  He carried her on his shoulders endlessly in training as well as in his races.  Her weight was nothing to him but the fragrance of her perfume filled his head and dreams - both sleeping and awake.  Her sweet breath warmed his ear as she urged him forward.  When she hunched forward her soft breasts touched his head.  He wondered if he might turn his head and take her nipple in his mouth.  For the races, she wore her white jodhpurs.  In practice, she wore only brief shorts.  Her smooth trim thighs rested skin to skin on his massive shoulders.  The secret place between her thighs pressed firmly up against his heavy neck.  He studied her face and watched her lips press together while she formulated her answer to his challenge.   He allowed himself to wonder how those lips might feel pressed against his.

       “Well Ethan, okay,” Beth said, surprising even Ethan and leaving her friends utterly speechless.  “But gentlemen first.”  “Gentlemen” was an old expression one no longer heard too often.  Ethan’s studdly behavior was becoming clearly annoying.

       Ethan crowed his victory.  A triumphant grin stretched his face.  He turned his back to the women and stripped off his briefs.

He had a great ass.  Beth imagined her latest brand design on his muscular left buttock.  She wondered if she would have the nerve to brand him herself.  Branding required some skill but a woman forged a special bond with the mounts she branded with her own hand.   “The jockstrap too,” Beth reminded him, “remember, you agreed, naked.”

He turned away , hesitated, and then complied awkwardly.  You and me both, he thought, rejoicing. He waited a long moment before turning to face Beth, Amy, and Madison.

Beth stepped in beside him and slipped an arm around his waist. She was truly fond of the creature.   Inadvertently, she touch a tender laceration left by her whip.  Ethan pulled a little bit away.

“Sorry,” she said chagrinned.  “Say, isn’t my Ethan magnificent, just as I said!”

Once upon a time, a male might intimidate a score of healthy adult women simply by threatening to expose his male paraphernalia.  That time was safely in the past.  However, his “otherness” was striking – the mere size and bulk of him, his heavily muscled male angularity compared to the graceful rounded feminine curves.    His exuberant hirsutism betrayed his kinship with the bestial.  In a well run stable, he would be depilated for reasons of hygiene and aesthetics.  His ample male parts, once symbols of male power and authority, were now incontrovertible proof of his innate inferiority.

Ethan’s muscular body was every bit as impressive as the older ponyboys who raced naked at the track.  Scientific nutrition and long hours of strenuous training had made the most of the outstanding physique he had brought to the program.

Ethan put his large hands on his hips.  “Okay Beth, take off your clothes now.  Now I get to see you naked.”  He looked to Amy and Madison for support.  They had heard Beth promise, after all.

Amy and Madison looked at their friend, Beth, their sincere unease evident in their faces. 

Beth showed no hint of distress. Beth took Ethan’s face in her petite hands and pulled him toward her.  Ethan closed his eyes and allowed himself to be guided.  She deftly avoided his questing lips and kissed him wetly on his broad forehead.  She was honestly fond of the big guy.  Boldly, she took his sex gently in her hand.  With both Amy and Madison there, she had no doubt she could control him.  Ethan was a silly name for a ponyboy.  Someday, he would have a real ponyboy name.  “Can Amy touch you too?” she whispered.

Her small hand on his sex made rational thought difficult for Ethan and coherent speech impossible.  Her warm hand just  felt so good.  He wanted to say, no, but he feared that Beth would take her hand away.

“I really don’t want to,” Amy objected.  Ethan breathed a sigh of relief.

I do!” volunteered Madison cheerfully.  Madison gave him little time to refuse.

Ethan started to protest but the kneading movements of Beth’s hand on his sex made coherent speech difficult.

Madison cupped his ball sac gently.  She certainly didn’t want to hurt him.   The coarse hairs tickled her palm.

“Amy, you should cop a feel.  He feels really weird.”  Ethan’s ball sac bulged ripely.  Most ponies in a stable were gelded.  Intact males tended to lazy, distractible and prone to violence.  However, elite riders generally favored intact males because of their greater spirit.

“I hope you guys wash your hands before you touch me!” Amy exclaimed.  She hoped her friends weren’t secret stag hags.  The mere notion of a large hairy male forcing himself into her most private places, nauseated her. 

Without volition, Ethan’s  body responded to all the feminine attention.  His penis grew to fill Beth’s fist.  He was still uncircumcised.  He’d lose his foreskin promptly in a properly managed stable.  Lacking enthusiasm for a messy climax, Beth dropped him and put her hands on her hips.

Ethan overcame his burning humiliation with some effort.  “Okay Beth, I did what you wanted.  Now it’s time for you to get naked.  I want to see your little titties and cute little ass.”

“Okay Ethan, you’ll see me naked, I guess,”  Beth said with apparent resignation.

Amy and Madison gasped aloud.   Would their friend really humiliate herself?

“Close your eyes.”  Ethan enthusiastically complied. “And turn around.”

“You can see me naked, in your dreams!”  Beth slapped his butt sharply for his unbelievably egotistical presumption.  She then led Amy and Madison from the stall quickly, closing the door behind them.

“Can I open my eyes now?”  Ethan asked plaintively, but no one answered.

IV

       Beth had told Ethan to meet her at the stables on Sunday, one last time.  High school was over now for Ethan and his promising future lay glistening before him but they had had so many pleasant times and shared  so many treasured memories.  They had been a championship pair on the Cady-Stanton Suffragettes equestrian team.  Beth was Ethan’s favorite jockey and Ethan was Beth’s favorite mount.  High school was over and Beth looked forward to one last ride.

       Ethan went down to the stables, changed into his shorts, and waited.  In high school, mounts wore running shorts, brightly displaying in school colors. After high school, mounts ran naked except for their gear.  Custom required Ethan to wait and let his jockey put on his saddle and bridle and place the control rods, wooden dowels secured in his ear canals that put his greater strength fully under the control of his smaller rider.

       Beth arrived no more than a few minutes late.  She wore battered leather boots, a casual tee shirt and jeans rather than her brilliantly colored racing silks and white jodhpurs.  After sharing a hug, Beth donned her leather gloves.  Ethan knelt and she helped him with his saddle and bridle.  She placed the control rods.  He stood; the saddle securely restrained his strong arms.  Beth pulled down on his bridle and Ethan leaned forward.  She placed a hand on either side of his head and kissed him fondly on the forehead. 

       Playfully, she pushed him away and inspected her mount one last time.  Reminiscences of past races, proud victories and hard fought defeats, flashed through her mind.  “One more thing,” she said aloud.

       Her words puzzled Ethan.

       Beth put her hands on his hips and deftly unfastened the buttons on his shorts.  A sharp jerk of her hand left him stark naked.

       Surprised, he pulled away.

       Beth yanked his bridle back sharply, yanking on the control rods and quickly quenching any insubordination.  “Ethan, come on!  You’re not in high school anymore.”

       “You’re still in high school,” he added.

Real mounts don’t wear clothes.  You just looked so silly.  You’re magnificent.  You have no reason to be embarrassed.  If I were as beautiful as you, I wouldn’t ever wear clothes.”  She tucked the shorts securely in her pocket.  Her collection at home included the shorts of all the mounts she had defeated. 

       Ethan was confused.  Beth had seen him naked already.  He grimaced to remember how she had tricked him after their last race to the amusement of her friends.  However, he had found it utterly impossible to stay angry at her. She meant so much to him.  If he thought about it,  Ethan had to agree that she was correct.  After high school mounts were naked.  Older ponyboys ran naked in the park and on the flatscreen.  He had seen them himself..  However, never before had he been placed on public display.  One upon a time, a lone male might intimidate a dozen adult women simply by threatening to expose his male paraphernalia.  That time was safely in the past.

Suddenly, he realized that his Beth must ride other mounts too.  When she was older, they would be naked too.  He, at least, would be her first.

       “Mount!”  Beth commanded and by reflex Ethan dropped to his left knee.  Beth grabbed his bridle and stepped up with her right foot on his brawny right thigh.  She swung her left leg over his neck and settled comfortably into his saddle.

       “Up!” she ordered.  Some day she would own a string of mounts and she hoped they would be as sound and well trained as her Ethan. 

Ethan felt her spurs jab sharply into his flanks.  He had never felt anything like it.  In high school riders did not wear spurs but Ethan recalled that he was no longer a high school mount.  Two more years of high school remained for Beth.  Ethan rose smartly and let Beth guide him forward into the yard.  On a weekend, the yard was busier than usual with mounts and riders, but the pair attracted little attention.

       The stable lay on the edge of a vast park.  Beth brought her mount to a jog and then to an easy stride.  Ethan ran gladly and carried her effortlessly.  He had had long practice and he lived for these precious moments with her.   He ran and took pleasure in Beth’s closeness.  He relished the feel of her weight in his saddle.  The fragrance of her hair filled his head, even if her scent was only shampoo and cleanliness.  The secret place between her thighs pressed up against his neck, at times more urgently than might be ordinarily needful.  .  He ran and felt her warm breath on his ear as she whispered fond encouragements.  He let all conscious thoughts recede.  He heard his feet strike the ground and the sound of his breathing and of hers.  He ran and lost himself in the seductive rhythm of his stride.

       Abruptly, pressure on his control rods broke his reverie.  He came to a quick stop and looked about.  He saw another rider, Cicely Westfall, on a sturdy mount.  Cicely sat astride his brawny neck.  Her graceful legs, ending his booted feet, boasting shining, spurs, draped over his muscular chest.  Her sharp, shining spurs impressed Ethan mightily.

       Beth greeted her cheerfully.  Ethan heard little of their conversation.  The control rods impeded hearing. 

       “I call him Gambler,” Ethan heard Cicely say.  His eye was drawn to the other male. Although the bridle distorted his facial features, Ethan recognized the mount.  Greg as a naked as Ethan.  Greg had been a senior and a leading mount on the Cady-Stanton team three years before when Ethan was a freshman and an eager beginner.  Ethan doubted that Greg would remember him.  Ethan had grown much over the four years and Greg looked even more muscular than he had as a senior.  Greg was now a certified mount.

       Ethan noticed several further alterations.  First, Greg had been branded.  Second, the metal ring that pierced the end of his circumcised sex was linked to a second ring set below his navel, lifting his manhood from his groin and displaying his scrotum beneath.  His sac hung flat and empty.  He had been castrated.  Intact males were notoriously lazy, moody, and ill-tempered.  All knew their penchant for insane jealousy and their alacrity for violence.  Most equestriennes chose to geld their mounts to facilitate easier handling and maintain peace in the stable. 

Ethan thought to greet him but remembered his place.  Ponies didn’t speak.  Most likely Greg’s vocal cords had been altered to prevent speech.  That was fairly standard for certified mounts. 

The women chatted merrily.  As she talked, Beth stroked Ethan’s cheek with the back of her hand.  Ethan relished her touch.  He thought to ease his head back and see if he might press his head against her soft breasts.  At his first touch, Beth pressed a control rod forward sharply and continued her conversation without comment or hesitation.  Foiled in his plan, Ethan leaned his head forward.  He waited impatiently, eager to be back on the trail.

Greg stared back at Beth and Ethan with no hint of recognition.  He looked as impatient to be back on the trail as Ethan. 

Ethan was grateful for the jab of Beth’s spurs as she brought him back into motion.  He took several steps, began to jog, and quickly returned an easy stride.  They came to a long flat section of the trail.  Beth saw no other riders, hikers, or bicycles that might get in their way.  She applied her spurs sharply and urged him forward urgently.  Ethan exploded into a sprint.  His speed exhilarated both Beth and himself.  His long strides devoured the ground and they seemed literally to fly.  Both were breathless when she brought him back to a walk.

Beth spotted Amy, Madison, and Laura up ahead at the picnic site beside the lake and brought Ethan back to a run, eager to meet her friends.

“Hey!” Amy shouted when they were close enough.  “Took you long enough.”

“We made great time and I’ve had a wonderful ride,” Beth answered.  “You should try him yourself.”  Tall long-legged Amy would have made an awkward rider, even if she had had the inclination.

“Hey, Beth.  Hey Ethan,” Madison called cheerfully.  Beth brought Ethan to a halt and Madison grabbed his bridle.  Perspiration cascaded from his body and pooled on the ground at his feet. 

Laura stood beside Madison, a bit intimidated by the male’s obvious size and strength.  On one level, she knew that she had little to fear.  The male could kick but he was otherwise restrained by his tack.  On another level she remembered her lessons about the male alacrity for violence and the horrors of the Patriarchal Age.

“Ethan’s magnificent,” Madison gushed and petted his neck.  She had been party to his humiliation in the stable but Ethan still relished her touch.   She stroked his flank and slapped his buttock playfully to show her confidence and lack of fear.

“I worry Beth’s too fond of the smelly creature,” Amy warned.  Sometimes she felt a rivalry with the male for Beth’s time and attention.

“Mount!” Beth called and Ethan dropped to his left knee.  Beth dismounted deftly.  “I’m thirsty.” she announced.  Amy handed her a water bottle.

Ethan was thirsty too.  He eyed the bottle keenly. 

“I’ll get Ethan a water, Madison offered.  Ethan’s hands were restrained by the saddle and Madison held the bottle while Ethan, kneeling, drank it down greedily in three long swallows.

       “Let me give him a water too,” Laura asked with some hesitation.  She held the water bottle and examined the large male, kneeling naked before her.  She could smell the musky odor of his perspiration.  She didn’t want to stare but she couldn’t completely suppress her curiosity about the male paraphernalia hanging between his brawny thighs.  She had seen pictures in school but his immediate physical presence had an ineluctable reality. 

His thirst less urgent now, Ethan studied the girl standing before him, the dark cloud of hair that surrounded her head, her bright eyes and curious smile.  He also saw her pert breasts pressing against her tee-shirt and a hint of her nipples and dark areola.  Ethan smiled broadly, hoping no one might guess the cause of his good humor.

Both somewhat distracted, he drank messily, spilling water on himself and Laura, her wet tee-shirt becoming translucent.