The End of the World l.A. Mistral

Katherine knew only one part of her was fragile. The rest of her was tough. She knew that too. She’d been riding horses for about five years. She’d started with a course in college and continued after she graduated. There was just something about the sweaty, svelte power of the horse and the earthy musk of hay that slipped inside Katherine and stayed there, keenkeen keen to come out.

She rode Western style, took to the training immediately and could now ride with the best of them. She loved sitting on the horse as it galloped around barrels or gathered calves for penning. She felt she would fly with just one more puff of air. Many of the other girls were afraid of it, for the risk and the loss of control. But that’s exactly what Katherine liked about it.

Katherine was ready for something new. She just didn’t know what.

The risk and uncertainty made her weak in the knees. Sometimes the thrill of barrel racing did that. One time just the power of a glance almost broke her bones. That glance came from Dora. Dora, “of auburn hair and alabaster skin,” as Katherine liked to call her. Dora’s skin was so translucent that it had just a slight tinge of blue, like you could see inside her. But you couldn’t, really. Dora was quiet. She hardly ever looked anyone straight with her hazel, half-opened eyes. Like the color of the Ionian Sea just before a storm, Katherine thought. She’d cruised there once and stood for a long time on the balcony lost in the lazy flow of the amethyst and emerald contours of the waves. Katherine had felt like she was at the end of the world. Dora’s translucent skin perfectly complemented Katherine’s own olive-tan complexion and eyes as dark as her Arabian horse.

She’d never recognized these feelings so clearly before, and they were so different from what both excited and bored her about men. Most of them talked endlessly about business or sports or both simultaneously. Their bodies were different, but she always felt they were an alien presence. What was worse, men treated her body like a football—grabbing instead of fondling and forcing when she was most willing to surrender. When push came to shove, she’d take grace over strength any day.

But that was not to say she didn’t enjoy fucking men. She liked it just fine and had the swollen, extravagant, permanently polished pussy to prove it. Yet Dora didn’t exhibit gentleness. She could be rough. Katherine had seen how Dora used the crop against the flanks of the horse. Dora was sweet-tempered but firm. She took control of eight hundred pounds of muscle and instinct with the flick of her wrist and the snap of a tooled leather crop. It’s not the crop, Katherine thought. It’s who holds it.

Dora had skin like the inside of an almond, and Katherine’s skin was like the brazen, bronze of the outside. Sometimes, just for an instant, Katherine imagined how Dora’s skin might look and feel pressed against her own. If she’d let her mind wander, she imagined what her skin might taste like. She sucked an almond in her mouth once just to think about it and was scared to feel how she trembled.

Katherine drew in her breath like she did when she was excited and reached down to smooth between her legs. She was wet already, and her pussy lips felt all pure and puffy. By now, Katherine could slide the width of her hand inside there. She slid the side of her hand back and forth, harder and harder. Angels ascended and descended into her own wide-open, reddening wings. Katherine sucked air between her teeth to keep from screaming. As she opened her mouth in the middle of one silent scream, something snapped inside her, not in her body but like the ancient Mayan calendar prophesy, one era giving way into another—the end of the world, the beginning of something new.

The next day she watched Dora again, bouncing up and down on a wide saddle, her spread legs fitting her blue jeans thin and tight as a breath. The chaps held her ass like a tanned-leather lover. Dora’s hair flowed like a dark, red bandanna. Then her horse faltered, confused by some command, and stopped. Dora’s momentum jolted her from the saddle and spilled her into the dirt. It all happened so suddenly that Katherine couldn’t react immediately. Other riders came over to check on her, and when Dora stood up, they all knew she was okay. Dora limped out of the corral to wipe herself off, and Katherine met her at the dressing rooms. Relief made Katherine less cautious.

Katherine hugged Dora lightly and was glad when Dora responded by pressing back, just slightly, like she was answering a hard question on a test. After splashing water on her face, Dora glanced up at Katherine. It was just a glance. But Dora’s emerald, oceanic eyes stared one moment too long, one moment with too much longing. Dora’s glance asked a question and Katherine answered back.

Katherine took a hand towel and wiped the remaining mud off Dora’s face. It was more like a face massage than a cleansing. “You look like a raccoon,” Katherine said, caressing Dora’s cheek all the way down to the bottom of her throat, “but a lovely raccoon, a very lovely….”

Dora leaned into Katherine’s shoulder and started to tremble. Katherine could feel Dora shake and her voice crack, “It’s just the f…fall,” Dora stuttered, “It was so startling.”

Katherine held Dora, her head falling into Katherine’s breasts and Dora’s long auburn hair covering her face like a shawl. Dora breathed harder and harder against Katherine’s nipples and she felt herself stiffen. Soon, she too, was panting. She began to kiss the top of Dora’s head. Each time she did, Katherine smelled the rich, malty smell of turf. Dora let out low whimpers, then lifted her head, took hold of Katherine’s shoulders, and drew her mouth into a kiss.

Dora’s kiss wasn’t timid, and it sucked Katherine’s soul out through each cell of her body and gave it back again. Her tits ached to be twisted. She felt the ache from beneath her belly all the way up to her throat. One feeling flowed into another: the love-gut-ache, the down-low-ache, the fear-thrill-ache, the suck-full-tongue-ache, the empty-pussy-ache, the skin-full-fuck-ache. Her mouth became dry, and she pulled Dora’s mouth even closer.

“Let me get dressed,” Dora said, “and we’ll take a walk.”

“I don’t want this to end.” It wasn’t a plea. It was a promise.

“Don’t you worry,” Dora answered, “it’s only beginning.” She slipped on a short, blue dress, her hips flaring out like fireworks, and tall cowboy boots. She still carried her riding whip. Katherine had on a skirt with a Western-style snap-buttoned shirt with long sleeves.

“The guys really go for a dress like this,” Dora said. “Do you think women are different?”

“I think men, or boys,” Katherine emphasized, “go for what is revealed. I think women like what is concealed.”

“Like my pendant?” asked Dora, touching the gold necklace she wore. The locket had slid slyly down between her breasts. “You can get it if you want.”

They both stopped near the end of the paddock where hardly anyone ever went at that hour. Dora wasn’t wearing a bra and Katherine bent over and kissed her breasts lower and lower until she found her large, dark nipples. They were as dark and stiff as Moroccan olives and then she sucked on them.

Dora flicked the riding whip carelessly against Katherine’s thigh, and it drew them to kiss again.

“Gee, you’d better be careful with that thing,” Katherine said, trying to be nonchalant. “Someone could get hurt.”

“Only if they want to get hurt,” she joked, her mischievous smile spread like a sunrise across Dora’s face. It was as if the whip was a language she used when she had no words. It was the way her skin spoke to skin.

Dora was exploring. Katherine could feel it. Only Dora was more sure of herself.

Katherine and Dora continued their walk through the empty paddocks, arm in arm. The slanting sun of a late summer sunset warmed Katherine’s legs, exposed by her short skirt. Dora urged Katherine into a stable door and kissed her there, then turned Katherine around. Katherine bent over and held onto the edge of a hay crib while Dora lifted up Katherine’s skirt with her riding crop and flipped it over hips.

“Umm, now I like this,” Dora crooned as she caressed her fingertips over Katherine’s panty-less crotch. Her fingers made circles, swirls, and secret Mayan signs. Katherine’s slick cunt was already evidence of an elegant openness for the play to come. The sunlight on her skin and the sting of the whip on her raw skin made her feel so ripe, so naughty, so wanton.

She wanted Dora to take her like that—rough, uneven, and raw. Katherine felt like she’d jumped off a cliff, so she might as well enjoy the fall. Dora bit on Katherine’s shoulder in slow sips and tapped her whip against Katherine’s thigh. The whip tapped a Morse code up and down the smooth slaloms of Katherine’s inner thigh. Dora tapped out long syllables of longing, and she tapped out staccato sentences of ache and desire. Katherine instinctively understood this new language and was dying to answer. She whirled around, grabbed each side of Dora’s face and plunged her tongue into Dora’s open lips where it swelled deep inside her mouth. Katherine’s whole body ached to be inside Dora now, skin for skin and soul for soul.

The whip’s tapping got harder as Katherine’s mouth got bolder and harder against Dora’s lips. Dora’s mouth felt like an incendiary device.

“Your wide lips, so red, so beautiful,” breathed Katherine. The whip awakened something strong and delicious, and Katherine reveled in her surrender. Dora seemed to be an expert in the unspeakable properties of leather. She was an expert in the teasing, pleasing and teaching that leather can bring in the right hands. “That feels good,” Katherine whispered heavily, “just like an extension of your hands. Please…” Katherine panting harder now, the words came out only in single syllables, “Please…take...me…now!”

Dora turned her around and pressed Katherine’s body against the half-filled grain trough next to the stable door. Then she pressed herself against Katherine’s back and bottom and kissed the back of her neck, breathing heavily into her ears. “I’m going to get your permission, okay?”

Just the fact that Dora asked got Katherine excited. She bent lower over the feeder and spread her thighs even further apart. Her full mouth formed a perfect “O” as she sighed heavily. Her ebony eyes shone like dark stars in an evening of arousal.

Katherine’s consent stoked Dora’s desire. A moment later, Katherine felt the smooth tongue of the leather whip ripple across the inside of her thigh.

“Okay?” Dora asked, still pressing against her backside and breathing in her ear.

“Yes!” Katherine chanted back, stretching out the syllable like she wished Dora would stretch her.

Dora did just that, brushing the lips of Katherine’s pussy with the wide handle of the whip, unfolding her cunt lips and teasing her with the thick end of the whip along the length of her pussy. Katherine’s cunt frothed and steamed. The closer Dora pressed the whip toward the opening of Katherine’s cunt, the more aroused she got. Katherine thrust her bottom back harder and harder. She wanted to cling to the whip, to feel the sharp, teasing lips of the whip nip and nibble, biting into her skin.

“Okay?” Dora asked again.

“No!” Katherine said. It wasn’t a protest. It was pleading.

Sweat pooled behind Katherine’s neck and shoulders and her own special syrup surged like the sun dawning between her legs. Warm rays flooded down her inner thighs as she tried to take the whip inside her. She wanted any part of Dora inside her now. Katherine’s whimpers and moans were the best prayers she could offer. No other words would do.

The whip peaked into her and her pussy opened like King Tutankhamen’s gold enshrined tomb when Howard Carter gazed into it for the first time. A new world unveiled for Katherine. Her body was a universe just awakening.

Dora felt something new too. She watched as Katherine’s pussy blossomed, then closed like the petals of some dew-drenched flower aching for light’s brilliant, blissful advance. They both felt the end of their old world and the beginning of a new one.

That was enough, at least for now. This adventure was not over, not by a long shot.

Dora withdrew the whip and lay against Katherine, kissing her over and over. “I wasn’t teasing you,” she said. “I needed to know what I liked too.”

“Did you find out?” Katherine asked her, turning around now to face Dora’s sultry, sea green eyes.

“We’ll find out together.”

Katherine didn’t need to answer. Their bodies said it all. They tasted each other even in their sleep…the only cure for ecstasy—exhaustion.