I’m a real piece of work—imagining my best friend’s little sister like this. But it’s not like anyone will ever know. So with that thought on my mind, I let myself indulge the fantasy. This time, though, Candice isn’t on her knees, but spread out in front of me, her wet pussy glistening, ready for my hands and mouth and cock.
“You can look, but no touching,” she taunts me. She dips her fingers into her cunt, and starts massaging herself in languid circles, tipping her head back and releasing a moan. “Do you want my cunt? Do you dream about it?”
I stroke myself long and hard. “Fuck yes, sweetheart,” I say.
“Good,” she says. “You’ll never have it.”
Even fantasy Candice doesn’t like me, I guess. She spreads her legs even wider and starts to pleasure herself faster, her pink cunt swollen and needy.
“Let me see you fuck yourself,” I say. “I want to know what that’s like.”
She complies and thrusts two fingers inside, crying out as she does. Her breasts bob up and down as she rides her own hand, and I feel myself close to coming undone.
“I bet you wish you were inside me right now, Nathan,” she says. “I bet you wish your cock was being squeezed by my tight, hot cunt. I’d milk your cock so hard you’d see white.”
For some reason, Candice’s taunts only turn me on more. I must love how much she hates me—how much she makes me work for it. I stroke myself harder, and feel myself start to come. My cum jets onto the shower walls in thick spurts, and in my mind, I imagine painting Candice’s stomach and breasts with it, covering her in me entirely.
I don’t even feel bad about it after I’m done. The image of her in my head looks too fucking perfect to feel wrong.
Workingwith Candice after spending the morning imagining her naked is a challenge. Every time she explains a training exercise to me or tells me something about Brown Sugar, the words go in one ear and out the other. This makes me feel like a dick, because she has a lot of really insightful things to share with me.
“Nathan!” Her voice snaps through the air. “Where is your head today?”
“What?” I ask.
“I just asked you if you wanted to try and let Brown Sugar off the line again,” she says. “And you just stared at me.”
“Sorry, I’m distracted I guess.”
“By what?” she asks. “It’s just us and the horses out here.”
“You’re right. I need to focus.”
We’re in one of the paddocks today, despite the freezing temperatures. Candice decided that Brown Sugar was still too wary of the training ring, and that there was no use trying to get her comfortable there. At least not right now. Brown Sugar has started to grow her thick winter coat by now, as it’s already late October, and Candice and I are both bundled up. I’ve got my chaps on because the leather keeps me warm. Candice is wearinga navy fleece and a puffy vest, and has layered a bandana under her Stetson. She looks adorable. For a hissing viper, that is.
“We’re going to let her off the lead and see what she does. I think that she’ll bolt, and if she does, what I want you to do is walk around the paddock holding this.” She presents me with a training stick with a flag on top of it. “Wave the flag around, and whenever she turns her attention to you, I’m going to call out to you. Then you’ll stop what you’re doing, to acknowledge that you’ve noticed her.”
“Will that work?” I ask.
“Maybe,” Candice says. “We want to show her that you’re on her side. That you’re paying attention to her and willing to work with her.”
“Alright,” I say.
I unclip the line, and then remove Brown Sugar’s halter. As soon as it’s off, she immediately runs to one corner of the paddock. She starts zooming around us in a haphazard circle, and I start walking with the flag, slowly waving it.
After a few moments Candice calls out, “Stop.”
“What’d she do?” I ask.
“She turned her ears towards you. Let’s go again.”
We continue like that for a while, with Brown Sugar alternating between running, abruptly halting, and trying to get the attention of Nico and Maggie in the next paddock over. Every time Brown Sugar looks at me or even flicks her ears, Candice has me stop.
Eventually, Brown Sugar stops running and slows to a walk. I stop waving the flag immediately, and set the stick on the ground. She looks over at me, and I look back, trying to project confidence and calm. She walks over to me slowly, and I immediately give her a good scratch and offer her a treat from my pocket.
“That was great Nathan,” Candice says, coming over to us. “She’s really warming up to you.”
I try to suppress the grin on my face and play it cool, but I can’t. It comes out in full force as I beam down at Candice. “Beau was right,” I say.
