The Wind Calls (Théo/Éomer)
Jun. 12th, 2005 12:06 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
horseboykarlÉomer: The sun is well up though Théo had rousted us out of bed early, eager to get to his plans for the day, but not so much that he did not have time to wake me with his mouth on my cock. By the time I was aware of what was happening my hips were working against his mouth. I pulled him around to me, wanting to taste his own silky flesh in my mouth and his seed on my tongue. After we brought each other to shuddering completion, then I was just as ready for our day's plans.
Théo handed me a cup of the dark bitter drink that he favors and I find that I am growing accustomed to it, even starting to like it. We breakfasted on sweet bread and fruit, eating while we sat together, our legs entwined.
But now we are on the way to find a horse for Théo while we are here and he has gone, leaving you driving Karl's truck again. We are almost to the place where your friend, Mike, has his string of trail horses. You tell me that they are obtainable to rent for anyone with the coin to pay for them, and I am skeptical as to their value, knowing that a horse and rider must be matched carefully and cannot form a good partnership if it is nothing more than an economic transaction.
Nevertheless, as the small farmstead comes into view, I find that I am keen to see what kind of horses this Mike has available.
Paris: As we pull up beside the paddock, I see Mike walking towards us from the barn and turn to you. “Okay, so you pick a horse, and I ride it off, and then Théo can shift back in. I think that was the plan?” You nod at me, and we climb out of the truck.
“Hey, Paris! It’s good to see you again.”
I grin at Mike as he grasps my hand firmly.
“Good to see you again too. Thanks for helping me out with this.”
“No problem, it’s a quiet time of year, and I’ve got no bookings this week, so you can help yourself.”
I can see his eyes widen as you approach from the other side of the truck.
“Mike, this is …” Shit! We hadn’t talked about what I was gonna call you, and I can’t exactly introduce you as, well, you, and the first name that comes to mind is … “Malcolm”
I turn to you with a wide grin, reckoning that it doesn’t really matter what I call you, not for this brief meeting … or at least I hope not.
“Malcolm, meet Mike. Malcolm’s been teaching me to ride, and we thought a day trail riding would be useful.” I’m waffling a little, and thinking that a lesson or two before we started this might have been a good idea after all.
Éomer: Giving you a hard look and wondering what type of name you have just saddled me with, I turn to the man and shake his hand. His face is weathered and full of lines as that of one who spends most of his time outdoors. He is quite a few years older than either of us, but seems a pleasant earthy sort.
He motions to a large paddock behind the barn. "There's my string, have a look and pick whichever one's likely. They're all very docile, just the thing for a beginner."
"Docile" does not sound promising, especially not for Théo. But I will see what I can find. I slip quickly over the railings and approach the small herd, talking as I walk, trying to pick out the herd boss. They eye me disinterestedly, which does not bode well for their spirits. Most horses would have begun to circle when faced with an unknown animal in their pen.
They let me approach them and shove them around, trying to find the best mount. They are all sway-backed and slope withered, not a decent one in the group.
Paris: Leaving you to I inspect the houses, I catch up with Mike. He asks about Steve and the family, and I get to hear all about his eldest daughter, Susan, who is going off to Uni later this year, and smile at the pride in his voice. Watching you walk round the paddock, I can see you’re not impressed with the horses and they do all look exactly how Mike described them. Docile. And I don’t think that’s what Théo will be expecting.
Then there’s a loud whinny from the barn, and Mike claps me on the shoulder.
“I’ll be back, just have to let Commander out. He doesn’t like to be kept waiting. Bought him for Susan, and he’s got a real attitude. Not nasty, just likes the world to know who’s boss.”
I watch him go, turning back to see if you’ve made a choice, knowing this isn’t quite what you were expecting. But the noise obviously caught your attention, and moments later, the doors to the paddock open and an almost black horse bursts out.
Éomer: I look up at the unmistakable sound of a stallion's belling challenge. A dark horse comes charging into the paddock. I move away from the other horses, knowing he must think I am a poacher, wanting to steal his herd. I stand in the open, my arms raised slightly, meeting his eyes, letting him see mine, see that I am a predator too, and not to be taken lightly. He is beautiful, not quite as dark as Smokey Joe, a deep grey color with dappled markings on his haunches. He stomps his foot angrily, tossing his mane. I start a monotonous humming and turn my eyes away, lowering his perception of me as a threat. His ears flicker towards me, he is interested in the sounds I am making and I know his curiosity is starting to overwhelm him.
He comes to me slowly, dancing almost, and I want to laugh out loud at his beauty and liveliness. When he reaches me at last, I continue to keep my eyes down, and he snorts into my hair, before lipping some of it into his mouth. I continue humming, adding the occasional word complimenting his beauty and strength. I had put some apple pieces from breakfast in my pockets and now I slip one into my hand. He finds it quickly, taking the offering while I run a hand up the line of his jaw, scratching his ears. I have stopped humming now, talking to him in a rhythmic voice, working my way down his mane, my fingers working along the line of hair. I get to his withers and lean my weight against him. He looks at me inquisitively and I slip onto his back, talking all the while. I lean forward, fisting his mane and tightening my legs around his barrel. He moves easily into a trot and then a canter, his gait smooth.
I turn him back to where you are standing with Mike. "This is the one!"
Paris: Mike and I watch, transfixed, from the fence as you approach the stallion, and minutes later he’s quite literally eating out of your hand. As you get onto his back, Mike’s eyes widen, and he begins to raise his arm, drawing breath as if he’s gonna warn you against it, but I put my hand on his and he glances at me, and I shake my head with a smile “It’s okay, he knows what he’s doing.”
Commander moves easily under you, and the pair of you make an amazing sight, his dark glossy coat gleaming in the morning sunlight, his mane rippling, matching the movement of your long golden hair.
“Yep, I can see that, he doesn’t usually take to strangers quickly. Where did you find this guy? He looks like he was born in the saddle.”
“He’s a friend of a friend.” And Mike doesn’t know how close he is to the truth.
As you turn him and ride towards us, declaring that you’ve made your choice, Mike opens the gate to the paddock, so you can ride him out. And then it strikes me. This is supposed to be MY horse?? I can’t ride that thing!! Théo is gonna have to shift in and do this, cause there’s no way I can!!
“Breathe, Paris. I am here if you need me, but by the look in your friend’s eyes, this decision is about to be taken out of your hands.”
I can feel Théo at the back of my mind and take his advice, breathing deeply, trying to relax. Mike runs his hands over Commander’s neck, and looks up at you, his admiration for your skills clear in his voice.
“Ordinarily, I would say no. He’s my daughter’s, and she doesn’t like anyone else riding him. But … you’ve certainly got a way with him, he trusts you. You can take him on one condition. You ride him, not Paris. He’s no horse for a beginner, but then I don’t have to tell you that, do I?”
Éomer: The stallion is spirited and I wonder how old this man's daughter is. My sister could handle him, but I cannot imagine a young girl in this world being able to do it.
You have a funny look on your face, and I smile at you reassuringly. "Smokey Joe is a very good horse, he has spirit, but he is also very obedient. I will talk to him and you will be fine on him."
I know that he will carry you safely until we are away from here and Théo can come back. We will switch mounts then, but I will regret giving this beauty up to my cousin, though I know he will be happy with this horse.
"You have his tack?" I ask Mike. The man gets the equipment for the horse and I lead Smokey Joe out of the trailer, and let him meet Commander. The stallion sniffs him thoroughly and determines that he is not a threat. I am relieved that Karl has a gelding, because another stallion would be trouble right now. I saddle Smokey Joe, speaking to him all the while about how you are a novice rider, that you are nervous and that he should behave himself. He stands quietly and I turn to you.
You eyes are scared and I smile at you. "He will be gentle, do not worry." I take your hand and put it on the horse, linking my fingers with yours as we stroke Smokey Joe. I murmur soothingly to him, hoping that my words will reach you. I put my other hand on your back, rubbing softly, sensing the moment when you let go of your fear. I link my hands and boost you into the saddle.
Paris: I’m grateful for your touch which calms me and the sound of your voice which I realise after I’m sitting on Smokey Joe’s back was as much if not more for my benefit than his. I move round a little, finding the most comfortable position to sit, and once you’ve adjusted the length of the stirrups, slip my feet into them. Okay, so it’s higher than when I’m on the bike, and different sitting astride a living creature instead of one built of metal and wheels, but I think I could get to like it.
“Thanks.” Smiling down at you, I pick up the reins, trying to look as if I at least know something about this, and you move my fingers a little. As you make sure the saddle bags and sleeping bags are secure, I run my hand over Smokey Joe’s neck, talking to him softly as I watched you do, asking him to take care of a complete beginner, and he seems to like that. I can feel the last of the tension leaving me, and I’m actually looking forward to the ride, short as it will be this time, just to see how it feels.
I’m thinking all that’s left is to follow your lead, and hope Smokey Joe follows you and Commander without needing too much input from me. Then when we get back to Wellie, we can arrange lessons. I can still feel Théo at the back of my mind, pleased that he held back and let you walk me through this, let me overcome that first jolt of fear myself.
I pass the keys of the truck to Mike as he wanders over, and tell him we’ll see him tomorrow as you mount up, and Commander tosses his head, obviously eager to be away.
Éomer: Mike points out the trail head, and with churning haunches, Commander takes the lead. I hold him back though, I have not seen this trail and I do not know if it is safe to give him his head. Also, I know that if he were to break into a faster stride, Smokey Joe would follow and I am not sure if you are ready for that. He fights me a bit, shifting his hindquarters side to side, trying to bring them around, but I am firm and he settles down. I hope that the high meadow that Mike mentioned is big enough to run this one out some, he clearly needs it.
The morning is chill but the sun is bright and I have a good horse under me. I turn and smile at you, wondering when Théo is coming back, but you seem more relaxed and Smokey Joe has a very smooth stride, and you answer my smile.
"Are you ready to go a trace faster? If we move into a trot, that is not very fast, but the horse's gait is so choppy that it will break your balls if you do not move with it. Smokey Joe is better than most though. But, if you will agree, I will put us into a canter, which is faster, but much smoother."
Paris: It doesn’t take long to get used to moving in harmony with Smokey Joe. Feels kinda natural, and he’s happy to amble along behind Commander. It’s a pleasant morning, and although I know I’m gonna have to shift soon, Théo tells me to enjoy the ride for a little longer before we change places. I think he’s happy that I’m liking this. I’m not totally sure about speeding up when you suggest it, but why not? The worst I can do is fall off.
“Canter? Yeah, okay. That sounds better than getting my balls bashed in! Then I’ll shift out and leave you two to your ride.”
You tell me how to urge him forward, and he does as I ask him without hesitation, but I think he would probably have followed Commander and you anyway unless I’d tried to hold him back. As our pace increases, the breeze ruffles my hair, and a grin grows on my face. I remember what you said about riding being a partnership, and I understand that more now, not feeling the need to try and take total control of the horse, rather working with him. And I have no doubt that if I was riding Commander, I would be having a tough time of it, if I hadn’t already been dumped on my ass, but Smokey Joe seems to understand that I’m not skilled at this. The landscape rushes past, and I know it’s not as fast as a good run on the bike, but it’s good in a different way. There’s no engine roar, and I feel more connected to everything around me in a way I can’t quite explain yet. It’s definitely an exhilarating experience, and when we pull up, I’m laughing with pure happiness.
“That was … that was amazing.” You grin back at me, patting Commander soundly on the neck. “Théo’s ready to shift, so I’ll see you tomorrow? And thanks for helping me with this. I want more lessons as soon as we can arrange them.” And with a nod of thanks I fade to black …
Théo: Smokey Joe can sense the change, and worries a little until I calm him with soft words. We have got to know each other on my frequent visits to Karl’s over the months, and settles without much coaxing. Commander is still itching to be on his way, I and smile at you.
“He is a magnificent beast.” There is the tiniest hint of regret in your eyes at having to give him up, and it is not hard to see the connection you already have with him. Paris was right. Together you are an amazing sight. “You ride him. He knows you.”
Éomer: My grin widens at your words. "You must try his paces though, he is wonderful."
Knowing we can move faster now, I turn Commander, urging him into a faster canter. I will not let him run full out, still not knowing the trail conditions ahead, and not wanting to risk him or Smokey Joe. The gelding picks up speed also, keeping up with the stallion. He did well with Paris.
When we get to the meadow, I would like to ride this one bareback again, nothing between me and the horse, so that we may read each other's movements and wishes. I want to see you on him also, because I know he will suit you very well, with his spirit and fire.
The trees deepen and then suddenly thin out and we are up to the meadow. I lean lower over Commander's neck, loosening the reins and letting him go a little. His easy lope turns into a long-legged run and I turn to see you beside me. Riding with you like this fills me with exhilaration and I let it out in a loud war cry. The horses flicker their ears at me, but do not hesitate and I laugh out loud.
Théo: The sound of my laughter joins yours at the pure simple pleasure of riding together across the open meadow. Smokey Joe may be no stallion, but he flies along beside your beauty, relishing the freedom as much as I. This is something we have not done together for pleasure for longer than I care to think about, and I intend to make the most of it.
At one side of the open grassland, there is a spot under the trees which looks suitable to leave our saddle bags and sleeping bags. When we get there, I notice there is a ring of rocks on a cleared area of ground, dusted with the remains of a long dead camp fire. Dropping from Smokey Joe’s back, I lift the gear off, and as I turn towards you, find myself wrapped in your arms.
Your grin matches mine, eyes dancing as I return your embrace. “I have missed this.” Our mouths meet, the kiss hard and full of passion stirred by this feeling of freedom, but we both know there will be time enough for more later. We have all day and night and I pull back to look at you, a question on my lips to which I already know the answer. “Bareback?”
Éomer: We quickly get all the gear off the horses, including the saddles. I am tempted to lay aside the bits and bridles too, but these horses are not, after all, horses of the Mark, not bred and trained to alliance with us.
Commander is not a stubborn horse, just lively, and soon you get to know him as well as I do. With you up on him and me on Smokey Joe, we dash around the lea, wherever the whim takes us. The horses catch our high spirits and frolic with us, their whinnies and our shouts rising in the brisk air. We teach them the games of our home, games played with horse and rider working together. They learn quickly and in time we meet in the center of the field, each trying to wrestle the other off of his horse, while trying to control the horse with our legs.
Riding Smokey Joe proves to be to my advantage this time, for Commander dances restively when you were not expecting it and I chuckle as you land on the ground with a thud and a muttered curse. I reach down to help you up, my legs clenching my horse as tightly as I can, for I see the glints of devilry in your eyes.
Théo: For a moment I think I will be denied my revenge, but Commander comes up on your other side, snorting in Smokey Joe’s ear, and your attention is drawn away from me for a second. Your hand still firmly in mine, one sharp tug and you are down in the grass, my hands pinning your shoulders to the ground. My advantage doesn’t last long though, as here, you have the edge over me where strength is concerned. We wrestle together until I am flat on my back, pinned below you, our chests heaving. Your lips swipe across mine, and you look down at me.
“Do you yield?”
I grin, nodding in defeat. “I yield.”
As you sit back with a smug smile, releasing my hands, I surge forward, my fingers digging into your ribs. They hit a couple of sensitive spots, and as laughter bursts from you, I press forward, pushing you back to the ground. You try to grasp my wrists again, and I squirm out of your grasp but you follow me, and another tussle ensues. This time I end up face down with an exasperated gasp. You chuckle against my hair and nip my neck then roll off to lie on your back. I turn over, smiling as I lie and watch clouds drifting lazily across the sky, close enough to feel the heat from your body.
Smokey Joe wanders past, snorting into your hair, and I sit up a little to make sure Commander has not wandered too far. It is not a particularly warm day, but our exertions have warmed us, and I smile over at you, thinking how easy it is to imagine we are lying in the grass in our own world.
Éomer: I fish around in the tall grass, until I find a tender inner stem that is not frost-dried and pluck it to chew it, trying to decide if it tastes different from the grass at home. I raise my head occasionally to see where the horses are, but they seem content to graze. There's a whuffling breath in my ear and I turn to see your face beside mine. The sun is glinting in your hair, turning it even lighter, and sparking your blue eyes to match the clear autumn sky.
Somehow it seems that I forget how to breathe for a moment, looking into your eyes, and then I reach for a strand of your and roll it between my fingers, feeling the smooth texture of it. Your hand wraps itself in a strand of my hair, tugging me forward.
Our lips meet slowly, leisurely, exploring the shape of our mouths, pulling at each other. Your tongue darts out and traces my bottom lip, leaving tingling nerves in its wake and I open my mouth, giving you access. You take what I am offering and my mouth is full of slick muscle. Your hands on me tighten, but our mouths continue to delve into each other.
Théo: I can taste the grass, sweet and fresh, all mixed in the taste of you as my tongue continues it’s lazy exploration of your mouth. Your fingers digging into my hair draw a groan from me as they work through the strands, making my scalp tingle. You suckle gently on my tongue, the pull causing sharp waves of pleasure to roll down through my belly, and my eyes burn into yours.
A breeze stirs round the meadow, stirring up its soft earthy smell and I break the kiss, nuzzling your neck, inhaling your scent with the scent of crushed grass, closing my eyes as it fills me. Slipping my lips back to yours, I coax your tongue to me, my fingers gliding over your neck, down toward your shoulder, still loosely wrapped in strands of gold.
Éomer: Our mouths cling, continuing their lazy exploration, your tongue sweeping every corner of mine, my tongue tangling slowly with yours, feeling the contours of your firm mouth. We roll together slowly, I press you down into the long grass, our bodies aligned. You push me over after a while and your weight covers me. Our legs twine together and my hands rove over your back, scraping my palms against the weave of your clothes.
You rise above me, and I slip my fingers slowly up to the back of your neck, pushing lightly there, and then coming around to slide down to the vee where you collarbones meet. I explore the jut of your bones there, before moving under your shirt, while you flick one of your buttons open. I nibble along the line of your jaw before pulling back
to look at you again.
"It is a little breezy and chill here . . . but the sun will warm us. Take me like this . . . under the sun and sky, as if we were back in the Mark."
Théo: It is as if you know my thoughts. “I will warm you, my stallion, and I will take you.” I murmur as my hands work on your buttons, pushing your shirt open. I dip my head down, capturing the black ring, teasing it with my mouth, feeling the nub harden against my tongue as my fingers ghost over your other nipple. You writhe at my touches, hands reaching out and opening the rest of my buttons, pushing my shirt off my shoulders, and trapping my arms in it as you sit up and return the favour, making me hiss and arch, and bare my throat to you as your lips move higher.
You finish pushing my shirt off, and yours follows it before I push you back down to the grass unbuttoning your pants and easing them down over your hips. Your hardness springs forth, and I swipe at it with my tongue before removing them and your boots. Standing to remove my own things, the sight of you lying there hard and wanting me, your eyes dark with desire makes my breath hitch. I nudge your legs apart with my bare feet before falling to my knees between them, and your hands reach for me, pulling me down to you.
Éomer: Lying here naked in the grass, lust swamps me all of a sudden. My body cannot keep still, twisting under you, fighting you almost, pushing you certainly, arching against you, struggling for more contact. I do not know exactly what I want, but my desire for you is overwhelming me, and I have lost control of myself. Your fingers tease me, not touching me exactly where I want you to, my aching groin. You twist my nipple ring, sending me against you.
Teeth grip my shoulder with enough force to bruise, tearing a cry of pure pleasure out of me, as your hands continue to map my skin. I am shaking with the feelings you are inducing in my body. I spread my legs wider, urging you to go where I want you to be. The only sounds I can make are ragged gasps interspersed with occasional pleading words.
You hover over my lips and I finally find breath to speak. "Fill me, please, Théo. In me . . . want you in me. Take me . . . "
Théo: Every touch has you coming undone a little further and I am so hard I cannot hold back much longer. My lips capture yours, taking the last of your words, an almost brutal kiss as you surge against me, teeth clashing, tongues warring.
Slicked and ready for you in moments, my fingers splay your cheeks apart, invading you roughly, making you cry out for more and I can deny you no longer. Hooking your ankles onto my shoulders, I take my cock in hand, pressing against your entrance until the head breeches you, and with one hard thrust I fill you. Your cry echoes round the meadow, my gasp lost to the breeze as the feel of your hot flesh suddenly surrounding mine makes me shudder and my teeth tear at my own lip as you buck below me.
Your eyes are wild, your chest heaving and your hands reach for me, urging me to move. Rubbing my face on your calf, my thrusts begin slowly, but I cannot hold back, need to possess you as much as you need to be taken. Braced on your legs, pushing them further against your chest with each jerk of my hips, your snarl tells me when I have found the right angle, your hands tightening in my hair. Turning my head, I bite your wrist, and your fingers clench harder as I pound into your body. As I reach down between us to touch your cock, my eyes find yours, almost feral with lust, and my words are little more than a growl. “Come for me …”
Éomer: You take me wildly, every thrust driving me higher. My body is on fire, nerves tingling everywhere you touch me, the place inside me sending bolts of desire lancing through me every time you scrape across it, and I growl and twist each time. You are giving me exactly what I wanted. The harsh pounding will leave me sore, I know, but I am falling apart under you, and it feels so good.
Your words go straight from my mind to my cock, you hand on me relentlessly driving me, and I shudder and wrench upwards, the force of my convulsions bowing my body against you. I shriek my ecstasy to the sky, letting it loose into the air. The warmth of your release fills me and I am still spasming, the feeling of it extending my own orgasm.
Théo: Even as shudders still run through me, I ease back and slip your legs from my shoulders, not caring about your come, sticky between us. Your cock still throbs against my belly, your heat still holds me as I gather you in my arms, kissing your pliant mouth, needing to be closer. You come back to me slowly, eyes finally focusing, and a sated smile on your face. I slip from you as our limbs tangle, and we lie together for a time, touching, kissing. But the breeze is cool, causing goose bumps to rise, and reluctantly we know we must move.
You stand, pulling on your pants, and checking to see that the horses did not decide to wander. When you pull me to my feet and into your arms, I can see they are on the far side of the open meadow, still happily grazing. You nibble my bottom lip, hands grasping my still naked backside and bucking against me. Chuckling against your mouth at your insatiability, I dig my hands in your hair, pulling you back, resting my forehead on yours.
“I will set a fire in the camp while you get the horses.” You nod, but do not let me go. “Then I will lay you down in front of the fire and torment you until the sweat runs freely down your back.” You kiss me hard, then stalk off with a grin, whistling for Smokey Joe. Pulling my own pants on, I watch you go, your hair cascading down your tanned back, the sound of whickering in reply to your hail. Commander reaches you first, butting his head against your chest and making you laugh while Smokey Joe ambles towards you both.
Your laughter rings out around the meadow as I walk back to the camp, and the carefree sound makes me smile. I wish with all my heart that we could share this in our own world, but know that can never be. And yet we found our way here, found each other, and found a way to be together, to share days like this, and that is all that really matters to me.
Eventually NC-17
Théo handed me a cup of the dark bitter drink that he favors and I find that I am growing accustomed to it, even starting to like it. We breakfasted on sweet bread and fruit, eating while we sat together, our legs entwined.
But now we are on the way to find a horse for Théo while we are here and he has gone, leaving you driving Karl's truck again. We are almost to the place where your friend, Mike, has his string of trail horses. You tell me that they are obtainable to rent for anyone with the coin to pay for them, and I am skeptical as to their value, knowing that a horse and rider must be matched carefully and cannot form a good partnership if it is nothing more than an economic transaction.
Nevertheless, as the small farmstead comes into view, I find that I am keen to see what kind of horses this Mike has available.
Paris: As we pull up beside the paddock, I see Mike walking towards us from the barn and turn to you. “Okay, so you pick a horse, and I ride it off, and then Théo can shift back in. I think that was the plan?” You nod at me, and we climb out of the truck.
“Hey, Paris! It’s good to see you again.”
I grin at Mike as he grasps my hand firmly.
“Good to see you again too. Thanks for helping me out with this.”
“No problem, it’s a quiet time of year, and I’ve got no bookings this week, so you can help yourself.”
I can see his eyes widen as you approach from the other side of the truck.
“Mike, this is …” Shit! We hadn’t talked about what I was gonna call you, and I can’t exactly introduce you as, well, you, and the first name that comes to mind is … “Malcolm”
I turn to you with a wide grin, reckoning that it doesn’t really matter what I call you, not for this brief meeting … or at least I hope not.
“Malcolm, meet Mike. Malcolm’s been teaching me to ride, and we thought a day trail riding would be useful.” I’m waffling a little, and thinking that a lesson or two before we started this might have been a good idea after all.
Éomer: Giving you a hard look and wondering what type of name you have just saddled me with, I turn to the man and shake his hand. His face is weathered and full of lines as that of one who spends most of his time outdoors. He is quite a few years older than either of us, but seems a pleasant earthy sort.
He motions to a large paddock behind the barn. "There's my string, have a look and pick whichever one's likely. They're all very docile, just the thing for a beginner."
"Docile" does not sound promising, especially not for Théo. But I will see what I can find. I slip quickly over the railings and approach the small herd, talking as I walk, trying to pick out the herd boss. They eye me disinterestedly, which does not bode well for their spirits. Most horses would have begun to circle when faced with an unknown animal in their pen.
They let me approach them and shove them around, trying to find the best mount. They are all sway-backed and slope withered, not a decent one in the group.
Paris: Leaving you to I inspect the houses, I catch up with Mike. He asks about Steve and the family, and I get to hear all about his eldest daughter, Susan, who is going off to Uni later this year, and smile at the pride in his voice. Watching you walk round the paddock, I can see you’re not impressed with the horses and they do all look exactly how Mike described them. Docile. And I don’t think that’s what Théo will be expecting.
Then there’s a loud whinny from the barn, and Mike claps me on the shoulder.
“I’ll be back, just have to let Commander out. He doesn’t like to be kept waiting. Bought him for Susan, and he’s got a real attitude. Not nasty, just likes the world to know who’s boss.”
I watch him go, turning back to see if you’ve made a choice, knowing this isn’t quite what you were expecting. But the noise obviously caught your attention, and moments later, the doors to the paddock open and an almost black horse bursts out.
Éomer: I look up at the unmistakable sound of a stallion's belling challenge. A dark horse comes charging into the paddock. I move away from the other horses, knowing he must think I am a poacher, wanting to steal his herd. I stand in the open, my arms raised slightly, meeting his eyes, letting him see mine, see that I am a predator too, and not to be taken lightly. He is beautiful, not quite as dark as Smokey Joe, a deep grey color with dappled markings on his haunches. He stomps his foot angrily, tossing his mane. I start a monotonous humming and turn my eyes away, lowering his perception of me as a threat. His ears flicker towards me, he is interested in the sounds I am making and I know his curiosity is starting to overwhelm him.
He comes to me slowly, dancing almost, and I want to laugh out loud at his beauty and liveliness. When he reaches me at last, I continue to keep my eyes down, and he snorts into my hair, before lipping some of it into his mouth. I continue humming, adding the occasional word complimenting his beauty and strength. I had put some apple pieces from breakfast in my pockets and now I slip one into my hand. He finds it quickly, taking the offering while I run a hand up the line of his jaw, scratching his ears. I have stopped humming now, talking to him in a rhythmic voice, working my way down his mane, my fingers working along the line of hair. I get to his withers and lean my weight against him. He looks at me inquisitively and I slip onto his back, talking all the while. I lean forward, fisting his mane and tightening my legs around his barrel. He moves easily into a trot and then a canter, his gait smooth.
I turn him back to where you are standing with Mike. "This is the one!"
Paris: Mike and I watch, transfixed, from the fence as you approach the stallion, and minutes later he’s quite literally eating out of your hand. As you get onto his back, Mike’s eyes widen, and he begins to raise his arm, drawing breath as if he’s gonna warn you against it, but I put my hand on his and he glances at me, and I shake my head with a smile “It’s okay, he knows what he’s doing.”
Commander moves easily under you, and the pair of you make an amazing sight, his dark glossy coat gleaming in the morning sunlight, his mane rippling, matching the movement of your long golden hair.
“Yep, I can see that, he doesn’t usually take to strangers quickly. Where did you find this guy? He looks like he was born in the saddle.”
“He’s a friend of a friend.” And Mike doesn’t know how close he is to the truth.
As you turn him and ride towards us, declaring that you’ve made your choice, Mike opens the gate to the paddock, so you can ride him out. And then it strikes me. This is supposed to be MY horse?? I can’t ride that thing!! Théo is gonna have to shift in and do this, cause there’s no way I can!!
“Breathe, Paris. I am here if you need me, but by the look in your friend’s eyes, this decision is about to be taken out of your hands.”
I can feel Théo at the back of my mind and take his advice, breathing deeply, trying to relax. Mike runs his hands over Commander’s neck, and looks up at you, his admiration for your skills clear in his voice.
“Ordinarily, I would say no. He’s my daughter’s, and she doesn’t like anyone else riding him. But … you’ve certainly got a way with him, he trusts you. You can take him on one condition. You ride him, not Paris. He’s no horse for a beginner, but then I don’t have to tell you that, do I?”
Éomer: The stallion is spirited and I wonder how old this man's daughter is. My sister could handle him, but I cannot imagine a young girl in this world being able to do it.
You have a funny look on your face, and I smile at you reassuringly. "Smokey Joe is a very good horse, he has spirit, but he is also very obedient. I will talk to him and you will be fine on him."
I know that he will carry you safely until we are away from here and Théo can come back. We will switch mounts then, but I will regret giving this beauty up to my cousin, though I know he will be happy with this horse.
"You have his tack?" I ask Mike. The man gets the equipment for the horse and I lead Smokey Joe out of the trailer, and let him meet Commander. The stallion sniffs him thoroughly and determines that he is not a threat. I am relieved that Karl has a gelding, because another stallion would be trouble right now. I saddle Smokey Joe, speaking to him all the while about how you are a novice rider, that you are nervous and that he should behave himself. He stands quietly and I turn to you.
You eyes are scared and I smile at you. "He will be gentle, do not worry." I take your hand and put it on the horse, linking my fingers with yours as we stroke Smokey Joe. I murmur soothingly to him, hoping that my words will reach you. I put my other hand on your back, rubbing softly, sensing the moment when you let go of your fear. I link my hands and boost you into the saddle.
Paris: I’m grateful for your touch which calms me and the sound of your voice which I realise after I’m sitting on Smokey Joe’s back was as much if not more for my benefit than his. I move round a little, finding the most comfortable position to sit, and once you’ve adjusted the length of the stirrups, slip my feet into them. Okay, so it’s higher than when I’m on the bike, and different sitting astride a living creature instead of one built of metal and wheels, but I think I could get to like it.
“Thanks.” Smiling down at you, I pick up the reins, trying to look as if I at least know something about this, and you move my fingers a little. As you make sure the saddle bags and sleeping bags are secure, I run my hand over Smokey Joe’s neck, talking to him softly as I watched you do, asking him to take care of a complete beginner, and he seems to like that. I can feel the last of the tension leaving me, and I’m actually looking forward to the ride, short as it will be this time, just to see how it feels.
I’m thinking all that’s left is to follow your lead, and hope Smokey Joe follows you and Commander without needing too much input from me. Then when we get back to Wellie, we can arrange lessons. I can still feel Théo at the back of my mind, pleased that he held back and let you walk me through this, let me overcome that first jolt of fear myself.
I pass the keys of the truck to Mike as he wanders over, and tell him we’ll see him tomorrow as you mount up, and Commander tosses his head, obviously eager to be away.
Éomer: Mike points out the trail head, and with churning haunches, Commander takes the lead. I hold him back though, I have not seen this trail and I do not know if it is safe to give him his head. Also, I know that if he were to break into a faster stride, Smokey Joe would follow and I am not sure if you are ready for that. He fights me a bit, shifting his hindquarters side to side, trying to bring them around, but I am firm and he settles down. I hope that the high meadow that Mike mentioned is big enough to run this one out some, he clearly needs it.
The morning is chill but the sun is bright and I have a good horse under me. I turn and smile at you, wondering when Théo is coming back, but you seem more relaxed and Smokey Joe has a very smooth stride, and you answer my smile.
"Are you ready to go a trace faster? If we move into a trot, that is not very fast, but the horse's gait is so choppy that it will break your balls if you do not move with it. Smokey Joe is better than most though. But, if you will agree, I will put us into a canter, which is faster, but much smoother."
Paris: It doesn’t take long to get used to moving in harmony with Smokey Joe. Feels kinda natural, and he’s happy to amble along behind Commander. It’s a pleasant morning, and although I know I’m gonna have to shift soon, Théo tells me to enjoy the ride for a little longer before we change places. I think he’s happy that I’m liking this. I’m not totally sure about speeding up when you suggest it, but why not? The worst I can do is fall off.
“Canter? Yeah, okay. That sounds better than getting my balls bashed in! Then I’ll shift out and leave you two to your ride.”
You tell me how to urge him forward, and he does as I ask him without hesitation, but I think he would probably have followed Commander and you anyway unless I’d tried to hold him back. As our pace increases, the breeze ruffles my hair, and a grin grows on my face. I remember what you said about riding being a partnership, and I understand that more now, not feeling the need to try and take total control of the horse, rather working with him. And I have no doubt that if I was riding Commander, I would be having a tough time of it, if I hadn’t already been dumped on my ass, but Smokey Joe seems to understand that I’m not skilled at this. The landscape rushes past, and I know it’s not as fast as a good run on the bike, but it’s good in a different way. There’s no engine roar, and I feel more connected to everything around me in a way I can’t quite explain yet. It’s definitely an exhilarating experience, and when we pull up, I’m laughing with pure happiness.
“That was … that was amazing.” You grin back at me, patting Commander soundly on the neck. “Théo’s ready to shift, so I’ll see you tomorrow? And thanks for helping me with this. I want more lessons as soon as we can arrange them.” And with a nod of thanks I fade to black …
Théo: Smokey Joe can sense the change, and worries a little until I calm him with soft words. We have got to know each other on my frequent visits to Karl’s over the months, and settles without much coaxing. Commander is still itching to be on his way, I and smile at you.
“He is a magnificent beast.” There is the tiniest hint of regret in your eyes at having to give him up, and it is not hard to see the connection you already have with him. Paris was right. Together you are an amazing sight. “You ride him. He knows you.”
Éomer: My grin widens at your words. "You must try his paces though, he is wonderful."
Knowing we can move faster now, I turn Commander, urging him into a faster canter. I will not let him run full out, still not knowing the trail conditions ahead, and not wanting to risk him or Smokey Joe. The gelding picks up speed also, keeping up with the stallion. He did well with Paris.
When we get to the meadow, I would like to ride this one bareback again, nothing between me and the horse, so that we may read each other's movements and wishes. I want to see you on him also, because I know he will suit you very well, with his spirit and fire.
The trees deepen and then suddenly thin out and we are up to the meadow. I lean lower over Commander's neck, loosening the reins and letting him go a little. His easy lope turns into a long-legged run and I turn to see you beside me. Riding with you like this fills me with exhilaration and I let it out in a loud war cry. The horses flicker their ears at me, but do not hesitate and I laugh out loud.
Théo: The sound of my laughter joins yours at the pure simple pleasure of riding together across the open meadow. Smokey Joe may be no stallion, but he flies along beside your beauty, relishing the freedom as much as I. This is something we have not done together for pleasure for longer than I care to think about, and I intend to make the most of it.
At one side of the open grassland, there is a spot under the trees which looks suitable to leave our saddle bags and sleeping bags. When we get there, I notice there is a ring of rocks on a cleared area of ground, dusted with the remains of a long dead camp fire. Dropping from Smokey Joe’s back, I lift the gear off, and as I turn towards you, find myself wrapped in your arms.
Your grin matches mine, eyes dancing as I return your embrace. “I have missed this.” Our mouths meet, the kiss hard and full of passion stirred by this feeling of freedom, but we both know there will be time enough for more later. We have all day and night and I pull back to look at you, a question on my lips to which I already know the answer. “Bareback?”
Éomer: We quickly get all the gear off the horses, including the saddles. I am tempted to lay aside the bits and bridles too, but these horses are not, after all, horses of the Mark, not bred and trained to alliance with us.
Commander is not a stubborn horse, just lively, and soon you get to know him as well as I do. With you up on him and me on Smokey Joe, we dash around the lea, wherever the whim takes us. The horses catch our high spirits and frolic with us, their whinnies and our shouts rising in the brisk air. We teach them the games of our home, games played with horse and rider working together. They learn quickly and in time we meet in the center of the field, each trying to wrestle the other off of his horse, while trying to control the horse with our legs.
Riding Smokey Joe proves to be to my advantage this time, for Commander dances restively when you were not expecting it and I chuckle as you land on the ground with a thud and a muttered curse. I reach down to help you up, my legs clenching my horse as tightly as I can, for I see the glints of devilry in your eyes.
Théo: For a moment I think I will be denied my revenge, but Commander comes up on your other side, snorting in Smokey Joe’s ear, and your attention is drawn away from me for a second. Your hand still firmly in mine, one sharp tug and you are down in the grass, my hands pinning your shoulders to the ground. My advantage doesn’t last long though, as here, you have the edge over me where strength is concerned. We wrestle together until I am flat on my back, pinned below you, our chests heaving. Your lips swipe across mine, and you look down at me.
“Do you yield?”
I grin, nodding in defeat. “I yield.”
As you sit back with a smug smile, releasing my hands, I surge forward, my fingers digging into your ribs. They hit a couple of sensitive spots, and as laughter bursts from you, I press forward, pushing you back to the ground. You try to grasp my wrists again, and I squirm out of your grasp but you follow me, and another tussle ensues. This time I end up face down with an exasperated gasp. You chuckle against my hair and nip my neck then roll off to lie on your back. I turn over, smiling as I lie and watch clouds drifting lazily across the sky, close enough to feel the heat from your body.
Smokey Joe wanders past, snorting into your hair, and I sit up a little to make sure Commander has not wandered too far. It is not a particularly warm day, but our exertions have warmed us, and I smile over at you, thinking how easy it is to imagine we are lying in the grass in our own world.
Éomer: I fish around in the tall grass, until I find a tender inner stem that is not frost-dried and pluck it to chew it, trying to decide if it tastes different from the grass at home. I raise my head occasionally to see where the horses are, but they seem content to graze. There's a whuffling breath in my ear and I turn to see your face beside mine. The sun is glinting in your hair, turning it even lighter, and sparking your blue eyes to match the clear autumn sky.
Somehow it seems that I forget how to breathe for a moment, looking into your eyes, and then I reach for a strand of your and roll it between my fingers, feeling the smooth texture of it. Your hand wraps itself in a strand of my hair, tugging me forward.
Our lips meet slowly, leisurely, exploring the shape of our mouths, pulling at each other. Your tongue darts out and traces my bottom lip, leaving tingling nerves in its wake and I open my mouth, giving you access. You take what I am offering and my mouth is full of slick muscle. Your hands on me tighten, but our mouths continue to delve into each other.
Théo: I can taste the grass, sweet and fresh, all mixed in the taste of you as my tongue continues it’s lazy exploration of your mouth. Your fingers digging into my hair draw a groan from me as they work through the strands, making my scalp tingle. You suckle gently on my tongue, the pull causing sharp waves of pleasure to roll down through my belly, and my eyes burn into yours.
A breeze stirs round the meadow, stirring up its soft earthy smell and I break the kiss, nuzzling your neck, inhaling your scent with the scent of crushed grass, closing my eyes as it fills me. Slipping my lips back to yours, I coax your tongue to me, my fingers gliding over your neck, down toward your shoulder, still loosely wrapped in strands of gold.
Éomer: Our mouths cling, continuing their lazy exploration, your tongue sweeping every corner of mine, my tongue tangling slowly with yours, feeling the contours of your firm mouth. We roll together slowly, I press you down into the long grass, our bodies aligned. You push me over after a while and your weight covers me. Our legs twine together and my hands rove over your back, scraping my palms against the weave of your clothes.
You rise above me, and I slip my fingers slowly up to the back of your neck, pushing lightly there, and then coming around to slide down to the vee where you collarbones meet. I explore the jut of your bones there, before moving under your shirt, while you flick one of your buttons open. I nibble along the line of your jaw before pulling back
to look at you again.
"It is a little breezy and chill here . . . but the sun will warm us. Take me like this . . . under the sun and sky, as if we were back in the Mark."
Théo: It is as if you know my thoughts. “I will warm you, my stallion, and I will take you.” I murmur as my hands work on your buttons, pushing your shirt open. I dip my head down, capturing the black ring, teasing it with my mouth, feeling the nub harden against my tongue as my fingers ghost over your other nipple. You writhe at my touches, hands reaching out and opening the rest of my buttons, pushing my shirt off my shoulders, and trapping my arms in it as you sit up and return the favour, making me hiss and arch, and bare my throat to you as your lips move higher.
You finish pushing my shirt off, and yours follows it before I push you back down to the grass unbuttoning your pants and easing them down over your hips. Your hardness springs forth, and I swipe at it with my tongue before removing them and your boots. Standing to remove my own things, the sight of you lying there hard and wanting me, your eyes dark with desire makes my breath hitch. I nudge your legs apart with my bare feet before falling to my knees between them, and your hands reach for me, pulling me down to you.
Éomer: Lying here naked in the grass, lust swamps me all of a sudden. My body cannot keep still, twisting under you, fighting you almost, pushing you certainly, arching against you, struggling for more contact. I do not know exactly what I want, but my desire for you is overwhelming me, and I have lost control of myself. Your fingers tease me, not touching me exactly where I want you to, my aching groin. You twist my nipple ring, sending me against you.
Teeth grip my shoulder with enough force to bruise, tearing a cry of pure pleasure out of me, as your hands continue to map my skin. I am shaking with the feelings you are inducing in my body. I spread my legs wider, urging you to go where I want you to be. The only sounds I can make are ragged gasps interspersed with occasional pleading words.
You hover over my lips and I finally find breath to speak. "Fill me, please, Théo. In me . . . want you in me. Take me . . . "
Théo: Every touch has you coming undone a little further and I am so hard I cannot hold back much longer. My lips capture yours, taking the last of your words, an almost brutal kiss as you surge against me, teeth clashing, tongues warring.
Slicked and ready for you in moments, my fingers splay your cheeks apart, invading you roughly, making you cry out for more and I can deny you no longer. Hooking your ankles onto my shoulders, I take my cock in hand, pressing against your entrance until the head breeches you, and with one hard thrust I fill you. Your cry echoes round the meadow, my gasp lost to the breeze as the feel of your hot flesh suddenly surrounding mine makes me shudder and my teeth tear at my own lip as you buck below me.
Your eyes are wild, your chest heaving and your hands reach for me, urging me to move. Rubbing my face on your calf, my thrusts begin slowly, but I cannot hold back, need to possess you as much as you need to be taken. Braced on your legs, pushing them further against your chest with each jerk of my hips, your snarl tells me when I have found the right angle, your hands tightening in my hair. Turning my head, I bite your wrist, and your fingers clench harder as I pound into your body. As I reach down between us to touch your cock, my eyes find yours, almost feral with lust, and my words are little more than a growl. “Come for me …”
Éomer: You take me wildly, every thrust driving me higher. My body is on fire, nerves tingling everywhere you touch me, the place inside me sending bolts of desire lancing through me every time you scrape across it, and I growl and twist each time. You are giving me exactly what I wanted. The harsh pounding will leave me sore, I know, but I am falling apart under you, and it feels so good.
Your words go straight from my mind to my cock, you hand on me relentlessly driving me, and I shudder and wrench upwards, the force of my convulsions bowing my body against you. I shriek my ecstasy to the sky, letting it loose into the air. The warmth of your release fills me and I am still spasming, the feeling of it extending my own orgasm.
Théo: Even as shudders still run through me, I ease back and slip your legs from my shoulders, not caring about your come, sticky between us. Your cock still throbs against my belly, your heat still holds me as I gather you in my arms, kissing your pliant mouth, needing to be closer. You come back to me slowly, eyes finally focusing, and a sated smile on your face. I slip from you as our limbs tangle, and we lie together for a time, touching, kissing. But the breeze is cool, causing goose bumps to rise, and reluctantly we know we must move.
You stand, pulling on your pants, and checking to see that the horses did not decide to wander. When you pull me to my feet and into your arms, I can see they are on the far side of the open meadow, still happily grazing. You nibble my bottom lip, hands grasping my still naked backside and bucking against me. Chuckling against your mouth at your insatiability, I dig my hands in your hair, pulling you back, resting my forehead on yours.
“I will set a fire in the camp while you get the horses.” You nod, but do not let me go. “Then I will lay you down in front of the fire and torment you until the sweat runs freely down your back.” You kiss me hard, then stalk off with a grin, whistling for Smokey Joe. Pulling my own pants on, I watch you go, your hair cascading down your tanned back, the sound of whickering in reply to your hail. Commander reaches you first, butting his head against your chest and making you laugh while Smokey Joe ambles towards you both.
Your laughter rings out around the meadow as I walk back to the camp, and the carefree sound makes me smile. I wish with all my heart that we could share this in our own world, but know that can never be. And yet we found our way here, found each other, and found a way to be together, to share days like this, and that is all that really matters to me.
Eventually NC-17
