A Humble Stable Boy
This story is essentially an interracial one, between a high up Lady from the UK, and a young black stable hand, it develops in to love, and there is an added lesbian twist towards the end.
Lady Samantha Walker was against the four by two rails that formed the dividers of the four horse stable, her arms were outstretched, her wrists bound by leather straps, her booted feet were about three feet apart, they too were tied with leather straps, other than that, the Lady had no clothing on at all, she was stark naked.
In front of her on his knees was Mathew, her nineteen year old stable manager. His hands were on her bare thighs and his face was buried deep into her yielding pussy, his long tongue was so far in her she thought she could feel it tickling the back of her belly button.
Lady Samantha's head was lolling from side to side as he pursued her clit, and her collapse, her full downfall, and her surrender. He had thought he had got it yesterday, but today had gone differently than he had expected. Yesterday had been a surprise, not expected at all.
It all started out innocently enough, her Ladyship had rung down had ordered him the night before to prepare Blaze for her to ride at 7pm, it was early but Mathew didn't mind. This was a chance to spend a little private time with his mistress; he would do anything for her, anything, including fucking her brains out if he ever got the chance.
Yesterday that chance arrived for him big time, and he took it, and he took it with glee and total gusto. He ended up fucking her before she knew he was doing it, and when she did know, it was too late to stop him, he had ridden her on and off for nearly two hours, making her cum several times before giving up exhausted himself.
The Lady had asked him to accompany her as the last time she had ridden Blaze, he had tried to throw her, so she was a little wary and felt she needed some support until she was sure of him again. Mathew had gladly gone along, they rose everywhere, up the hills along ridge, through gully's, stopping for a rest, let the horses drink, let them walk a little before she decided it was time to head back.
He had watched her mount Blaze, the horse was a beauty, light brown, a white mane, a white tail, and a Blaze from between his ears to his nostrils, hence Blaze. But Her Ladyship outdid the horse in the beauty stakes by far, she was the most elegant and beautiful woman he had ever seen and he loved her, lusted for her and would do anything she asked of him.
She was here on the Caribbean island retreat that her family had owned and passed down to her. She had her own money, she came from money, but despite her high end upbringing, she was a woman first and last. She had married well too. Her and her husband were regular visitors from London England. She often stayed behind when he had to go back in their private jet for political dealings, of which Mathew knew nothing and cared less. All he cared about was being near her. He was a Lord of something or other, so she was Lady of something, that's all he knew about her.
He had just turned nineteen, he was 6ft tall, angular and rangy, but he was a powerful boy, and as good looking as any black boy on his native island. He was also popular with the girls, including some married women when their husbands were away at sea. His granddad used to warn him off, but never berated him, 'he's a boy after all,' he would think, 'let him sow his wild oats!'
Lady Samantha was in her late twenty's he reckoned, possibly early thirties. She was so softly sensual, and utterly beautiful, long blond hair, deep smoky grey eyes, and lips he wanted to kiss all day long, and a body, of which he had glimpsed a few times when she went into the huge outdoor heated pool, was to die for. She was full breasted, narrow waisted, and the longest fabulous legs. And in her different bikinis he would have a hard on that was difficult to hide from her.
Her ladyship of course knew the effect she had on him and indeed most men around her wherever she went. She wouldn't show off, but she did strike the occasional pose for naughtiness. Mathew would tell his granddad with which he lived, as his own parents were no more.
He would tell him with bated breath what she had been wearing, what she had done, where and how, his granddad would laugh and tell him to 'go for it.' And then say, "when you get her Mathew, bring her to me, I'll show you how to handle her!" He would smile at the boy knowing he had a snowballs chance in hell of doing it.
Lady Samantha was wearing her riding attire, long sleeved frilly blouse, buttoned all the way up, a red rose ribbon tied daintily around her neck that fluttered in the breeze, a long cotton skirt that buttoned all the way up, and riding boots that gleamed with Mathew's attention to them. He could even smell her when she had finished riding on Blaze's saddle, it smelled of her delicious aroma, sex!
She cantered along, going through a long grass meadow on a slightly sloping hill side. She kicked her heels and Blaze took off, near the top of the slope Blaze skittered, it threw Samantha off, she landed heavily, and it stunned her, she lay there unconscious. Mathew jumped of his horse and raced to her.
He checked her for possible broken bones; he knew how to do that because his uncle was a doctor on the island. He decided she was okay, just a little concussed; he would wait until she came round, and then get her back home. Then he saw her breasts pumping up and down, her nipples protruding under the thin blouse.
Without thinking he stroked one, it seemed alive, it moved, he stroked it again, and he could see it growing, his next touch made it grow more, and the next one he felt the hardness of it. He gripped it lightly, she groaned, he let go quickly, then realised she was still out of it, he gripped it again, she groaned again, but he never let go this time.
He nipped the other one and the same thing happened, now he slightly turned them, she moaned. Mathew knew arousal when he saw or heard it; he had been with a few women by now to know. Squeezing them her ladyship moved, moaned again, but never opened her eyes. Her lips had changed colour too, they were now a deep blood red, and an old flame had told him that when a woman's lips go deep red, she is up for a shagging.
Mathew took the plunge, he swiftly undid her blouse, pushed her bra up and sucked her nipples, the moan from her Ladyship told him he was good to go. He sucked and nibbled each in turn. Samantha moved slowly from side to side but never tried to stop him, she was still slightly concussed. His hand snaked under her skirt, into her tiny panties, and he fingered a wet pussy. "Now or never Mathew, you'll end up in jail for this," he said to himself. But his now massively hard young black prick would allow him no conscience.
Mathew knew it would be viewed as rape, but he yanked her dress up, pulled her panties off her, undid his jeans, threw them to one side and he was over her instantly. He found her entrance and sank into the slickest of silky depths he had ever known. He breathed a sigh of happiness, and began to fuck his mistress; he was in now, no going back.
Mathew humped at her; not wanting her to wake and cause a scene, where they were on the hill no one would ever see them, unless they passed overhead in a helicopter. He raised himself up on his elbows, then started a long smooth, but powerful rhythm, soon he couldn't hold back. He blew a bucket load of hot steaming cum into the prone blond beauty under him.
But Mathews prick stayed hard, he knew it would, it always did if he was enjoying a good screw, and this day was the most enjoyable he had ever had, so far. He was looking at the serenity of the woman below him, close up her features were even better, a flawless skin, the closed eyes, those lips. He kissed her quickly, they were soft and warm, he kissed her again, but for longer this time.
He looked at her again, her eyes fluttered, he quickly locked lips, her mouth was slightly open, he dipped his tongue between them, then started screwing her once more. He went at a strong pace, but he was gentle, careful not to bang her, not yet anyway, he thought.
Mathew heard a groan from within her, he lifted his mouth from hers, and she spoke, or muttered, "Oh, Hmmm, Oh what... Mmmmm." Then he felt arms encircle him, Mathew humped at her, picking up speed, and increased the power. He had just dumped a load in her, so he knew he could fuck for as long as he wanted to, within reason, considering whom he was fucking.
The hands dug in, nails taking hold, feet falling over his legs. He almost jumped up and shouted, "She likes it, she loves it, she wants to be fucked!" Mathew now got on with the job in hand, he fucked his mistress like he hadn't fucked a woman before, 'if this is the first and last, then it's going to be s good one!' Were the words he said to himself in his happy head.
He looked down at her once more and her smoky grey eyes were fixed on him, it stopped in his tracks, but only momentarily, he was on the out stroke. Lady Samantha said, "Mathew, what are you..." but his renewed inward thrust silenced any further words, even if she was going to tell him to keep going.
He went after her now full blast, he fucked her manically, and solidly, Lady Samantha hung on with every thrusting shot, his cock working its magic had her moaning under him, "hmming, and Arggghing." He kissed her again, she turned her head away, he grabbed her hair, and forced her mouth back to his, he kissed her deeply, tonguing her violently. The Lady kissed him back; there would be no further protest or denials now.
Maybe that would come later, but for now, she was his to fuck now, and she wasn't intending to try and stop the hair raising and fantastic screwing she was getting from her black boy servant. The cock in her was the best she could remember, it was long, it was hard, very hard, she could feel the stiff iron of it as it brushed aside her pussy walls with every thump. And on top of that she could also feel the magical thickness; it was the cock a man on a boy's torso.
Lady Samantha Walker was having the best screw she had ever had, and though she had tried feebly to resist it, she was now fully a part of it, giving him back what she could, humping him where it was available, kissing him back when he kissed her. This was her first time black, it was all knew and it had added to her mountainous arousal, she came again and again.
She had never once in her life considered a black man for a lover, not even for a one off, a one night stand, never. She had her reputation to protect, her standing; she had always maintained aloofness to those she saw as below her station, except for those in her employ. But today she was being used and screwed fabulously by her employee. And though she hated to admit it to herself, it was the best her mind could recall.
The place they were, under the sun, in tall soft meadow grass, the boy above her in the ascendancy. It all made it surreal; she gave in completely to the moment, to Mathew. He not knowing this continued the demolition of his blond beautiful mistress. She was cumming with alarming regularity. Mathew hammered her with greater and greater power; his speed in and out was ferocious. Hips slapping hips, then came his moment of truth.
He was going to cum, his pace dropped but got stronger, then he crushed her with one last mighty thrust and his brand newly created sperm hit her insides, scaldingly hot, super thick, and creamy as it slid up through and past her cervix and into her womb.
He fell on her, he had done the best he could, he had given everything he had, nothing had been left behind, she had got it all. He kissed her softly, she returned the kiss languidly, then he slid off to lie at her side. Samantha was locked in her body, she knew she had just been given the best sex she could remember, but it had been her servant, her stable boy, and he was black!
Suddenly she realised the enormity of what had happened, she couldn't deny the glory of it. But she had succumbed to a black boy. She still didn't know she had been unconscious when he had taken advantage of her, that she had been raped. All she knew was how fabulously dirty she was feeling, his cock had been the best, of that there was no doubt. But he was still a boy, and he was still black!
In her position she should have rejected him out of hand, sacked him on the spot for being so forward and disrespectful. And possibly have the police involved too for good measure, to let others know that you did not mess with the great and the good. That the elites of this world had their place.
"Mathew," she said quietly, but with complete authority, "no one must ever know of this, absolutely no one, do you hear me, do you understand. If this ever gets out I will see you in jail for a very long time!" Her eyes flashed, he got the message, Mathew understood perfectly, and reverently nodded his head. Her Lady ship sat there for a long time mulling over in her head what to do about him, whether to get rid of him or give him a second chance.
She decided on the latter, it must have been her fault, she must have egged him on, but she couldn't remember doing it. Lost in her thoughts she hadn't even pulled her skirt down, she had pulled her blouse together to cover her breasts but that was all. Mathew's eyes took in her long legs, the smooth shape, the way they seemed to be carved from white marble, hip to toe.
His prick rose under him, he was getting his third breath, he was hard in a flash of her thigh. The sight of her sat there in the grass was too inviting for him. He pounced on her, the surprise attack had her on her back in a moment, he was between her legs, and his prick found its mark with one hit.
Lady Samantha had no time to cry out as she was torpedoed and sunk without trace; the waves of lust so recently ebbing away washed her overboard again. The black boy was skewering her like a kebab on a barbeque spike. She mewled helplessly as her stable hand set about her again. Irresistibly pounding into her still hot and humid spunk filled to the top pussy. Her legs went up and over him again, as he beat her with his young and strident black prick.
The good lady had no answer; there was nothing to say about it, there was nothing to do about it. She was being wonderfully mastered by her boy lover, deep in the long grass, and under the warm sun. Mathew's ass was like a steam pump, up and down, up and down, and his now seemingly monumental black prick was the piston shaft that brought her oils to the surface, and also brought the glorious end to the day for her.
Samantha came cum upon cum, she was burning inside from the slick friction of the shaft plumbing her depths, the wide mushroom headed pylon was filling and emptying her as is drilled her completely. She cried out in ecstatic joy as the largest climax she had ever had hit home. It was enormous, she was stricken with it, immobilised by it, it was pain on fabulous pain.
She would never cum like this again, there can only be one time when an orgasm such as this comes a woman's way, and she was sure this was it. She held him tighter than she had ever held onto her husband, he hadn't ever got this far with her, no one had. Her cum rolled around her like thunder on a day of thunder, tornado's ripped through her.
When the marbles in her head stopped spinning, and her sight returned to focus, she saw Mathew lying at her side facing her and smiling. He knew what he had done, or thought he did, he was certain he had given her the best ride she had ever had. And he decided that that would save his bacon, she would never report him now.
Lady Samantha rose unsteadily to her feet, she didn't speak, she straightened her clothing and tried to mount Blaze, she couldn't, she didn't have the strength to get on. Mathew hurriedly helped her up, sitting astride now she set of at a walk, Mathew trailed behind her. He never spoke either thinking it was better now to be quiet.
When they arrived back, she rode her horse straight into the stable and slid off. She stood with it until Mathew took the reins from her, she stepped away, he was too close. Clasping his hands together, he spoke softly, "My Lady, are you alright, please say you are."
This softened her stance, "yes Mathew I'm fine, but like I said, not one word!" Then she strode off, but Mathew called after her.
"You have nothing to fear from me maam, I swear." This made her feel better, and she walked into her home.
"It really is a good job Rupert had to go back," she thought as she allowed herself to limp once she had closed the door behind her. "I am going to have to try and keep that boy at distance from now on," she decided. Later she had dinner on her veranda and a couple of glasses of wine.
This helped her mind to relax and turn back to the events of the day, but try as she might she still couldn't remember how it had happened. How he had seduced her the way he had. Because she was sure she would not have seduced him, never. She even thought maybe he had drugged her, but that was out of the question, they had been riding for an hour before she ended up underneath him and being royally screwed.
The memory of that was securely fastened in her mind, the mind numbing climaxes she had had, the body ripping earth shattering orgasms, and especially the last ones when he had jumped her, and given her the most memorable sex she could ever remember having. She felt her pussy tremble, it heated up, she closed her eyes as the memory gave her extended pleasure, her fingers sought her clit.
It found it, and the good Lady returned to where she had been that day, underneath her fantastic black boy lover, and unknown to her, rapist. She had another shattering orgasm, her mind fixed on the black shaft that had emptied her mind and her body's nectar filled fuel tank. Evidence of that was on her cum filled soaking skirt.
Lady Samantha took off all of her clothing and burned it in the wood burner, no evidence of today, she thought. But her mind as evidence was primed. She took a hot bath and retired, but she had recurring dreams of being attacked by coloured men, taken away, escaping but running in treacle so she couldn't get away. She woke several times sweating profusely. But she also found she was sexually excited by them.
Samantha rose early, she had a light breakfast but her dreams were still vivid in her mind. She was sexually alive somehow, vitality raced through her. She was excited, she felt just so good, she needed exercise badly; she needed to set herself free. 'Ride Blaze again,' she thought. "Yes, that's what I need, the wind in my hair, the sun on my face, and Blaze beneath me!"
The Lady called Mathew and ordered him to prepare Blaze, "Am I to go with you again my Lady?" he asked. The answer was a firm no; she would go on her own. He was thoroughly discouraged; he had thought that they would ride again today, and that somehow she would let him know that she wanted to stop somewhere, maybe in the long soft grass again.
He prepared the horse, and off the Lady went in her new riding attire, the same as yesterday but different in colour. He was morose, maybe it was just a one off and he would be well advised to forget it. He waited and waited for her to return. Samantha was having the time of her life aboard the powerful steed between her legs. Yet all the while her arousal was growing, she could feel it, she revelled in it.
The Lady slowed to a walk, and she just couldn't resist the urge to stand in her stirrups and allow the horn of her saddle to rub her wanton pussy, lots of little satisfying climaxes frittered through her mind and body. On her return Mathew was stood waiting for her, she leaped off with great aplomb. But her arousal had brought the memory of what Mathew had done to her the day before firmly to the fore of her mind. She smiled at him, pleased he was there to take charge of Blaze, he brushed him, watered him, and walked him. All the while she observed him.