It was an uncommonly warm day; it had reached the high sixties. I was wearing a knee-length wool skirt for warmth and ease of access with a button up ...louse and sweater combo. I wouldn’t need to get undressed to be touched, eaten or fucked.Terry grabbed the blanket from the back of his car. It was an Army surplus wool blanket and came in quite handy. We spread it out, ate our victuals, and talked about the movie.When we were finished with the food, we packed up our trash, and he put it back. I stepped out of my pants, and Rick gestured toward the couch. I sat down wearing just my briefs. He walked toward me unfastening his belt, letting his own pants fall to the floor. He was not wearing underwear, and I watched his big cock swing back and forth as he moved across the room. He was shaved, and circumcized. He joined me on the couch and didn’t waste any time. His hands were all over me and he worked my underwear off. He squeezed and stroked my cock and ass. I could feel the swelling. I barely heard her as I felt Gina's warmth below me and her legs slowly begin to slide up along my side. She had a very serious look on her face, as if she were feeling the same things I was at that moment. I leaned in and gently kissed her on the lips. She didn't fight me and only closed her eyes as I felt her body relax. She then opened her eyes and reminded me that everyone else was probably waiting on us. I reluctant climbed off of her and started back for the campfire. That was the end of. What caught my attention was how close Marseille was to the Camargue.Ok, so I know you think I was making decisions based on nothing but flights of fancy, but that is not quite true. The far more embarrassing issue was my utter lack of experience with horses. Yes I know the stories would have me working for free at the closest stables etc etc, but the simple truth is that this all started because I read a certain story and not because of childhood dreams of horses. At the time my attention was.
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