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As if the horse was reading her thoughts this very moment, Lightning whinnied and slowed his pace with short, jolting bucks.

She had not expected the horse to pull up like that. She was so used to her legs around its form that she adjusted with hardly any trouble at all.

The horse stopped short and then pranced at a slow gait gently rocking her from side to side from the swaying motion of its flanks.

She could feel her body mold to the power of the horse's powerful form. She felt as one with it, not a separate entity at all.

They were together. It was at these moments that Lightning ceased to be a thing – HE BECAME A PERSON.

They communicated. They understood one another. They were both beings, like spirits, you might say, housed in two different kinds of bodies.

The fact that that made all the difference in the world did not occur to the naive and lovely Melanie Barker.

Her rebellious spirit blinded her to the obvious fact that they were destined for different realities that could never hope to merge as one.

Little women are allowed these impossible fantasies. Rarely do they have the opportunity to make it real. A wicked moment awaited her.

Of course, her awareness was also dulled by the maze of conflicting images that pulsed through her young brain.

Her buried fantasies were finding an outlet because some sin was plaguing her. All these things she knew only in pictures, not words.

Just like her father she felt somehow responsible for the death of her mother. But it wasn't guilt exactly.

It was more like Melanie, as her daughter, was the only one who could erase this unnamed sin. She too instinctively felt, like her father, that Lightning held the answer.

There was something about this horse that was inextricably bound up with her mother, perhaps much more than she knew.

Melanie could see these images inside her mind's eye as they bubbled up to consciousness. But she couldn't control them.

Because she could not express what was happening to her in words, she could not center the images on a focal point.

Something was bothering her, she knew that. What it was exactly she couldn't tell. Her body made her do crazy things that preyed on her mind.

She loved the feeling between her legs as her young cunny bounced on the smooth leather saddle in time to Lightning's steady, rhythmic pace.

She could feel that she was wet down there. It often happened while riding the beautiful stallion through the sun-drenched valley.

It was their favorite spot. Some of their best moments together had happened between the walls of the mountain they lay in between now. A beautiful red-winged butterfly the span of which was outlined in a felt-like black trim flew in front of her blue eyes.

She was fascinated by its graceful flight that seemed to leave misty and blurry whips of color in its wake.

Melanie knew that this was impossible, colors did not leave comet-like trails in their wake showing where they had been.

The flight of the butterfly left a trace of its stimulating sight on the fronts of her glistening eyes. It was the after-effects of this image that she projected onto the real world.

So that when she saw the butterfly's dazzling colors seem to burn a hazy exhaust into the clear air of the sun-drenched valley, she believed she was witness to a miracle.

She was convinced that the butterfly was trying to tell her something. It was there for a reason, acting like a guide.

It wasn't telling her to do anything. The gesture of its presence and the way its colors painted the transparent air delivered its message.

Her clit was ringing and pulsing. She hadn't completely noticed it until now. Her cunny was really on fire.

As they rode together in the sun-bathed glade her hips loosened their grip around the saddle and the tender vise of her inner thighs rubbed from one side to the other along the smooth saddle in time to the rhythm of Lightning's steady pace.

A strange feeling overtook her. Out of the blue an image pulsed in her brain. It was a picture of her riding Lightning completely in the nude.

The thought of it made her issue an excited gasp. It was too terrible to keep thinking of but gave her a frightful arousal.

She was ashamed to have thought of it. Lightning was hardly making a sound. His strong feet took each step very gingerly.

She got the distinct impression that the horse was thinking the same thing as her. The sweat broke out on her forehead.

She couldn't tell what was real and what was her imagination. The entire scene looked like it could dissolve at any minute right before her eyes.

Perhaps she had never wakened from that dream of her and Lightning entering the curved archway of the house made of glass.

Pinching herself made no difference. She felt the pain but it still did not assure her that everything that was happening was real.

The image of Lightning's blood gorged, two-foot-long constrictor flashed in her head as clear as if she was remembering it from real life.

The black and red butterfly once again came into view. It seemed larger and bursting with color.

Either it was getting bigger or she was getting smaller. Her cunt kept burning and the crotch of her jeans was wet and showing through.

She very slowly unbuttoned the loose blouse that hung around her large, firm breasts and let the wind flap it open.

The cool breeze flew inside the folds and whisked her breasts bare of the light fabric that framed her cleavage.

Her breaths became definite pants expressing her obvious heat. She noticed that her hands were gripping the horn of the saddle.

Without even thinking to do it, she had been rubbing her hot cunt up and down the length of the saddle pumping her back and forth.

Her hands gripped the horn and her arms were held straight out to give her the needed leverage to perform the feat.

She removed her blouse and threw it on the ground. She smiled from the rush of pleasure the lewd act gave her.

She arched her back and took a deep breath, which made her aroused breasts thrust themselves out and harden the nipples from the feel of the caressing breeze.

She was proud of herself. She had satisfied a heretofore-unstated urge. She was riding topless atop her favorite stallion.

Her expression of lust filled her head with confidence. She felt free and uninhibited and capable of much more.

It suddenly seemed very hot out. Her hot tits were cooled by the gentle breeze that blew through the valley but her legs were sweaty. Lightning was moving at an extremely slow pace. The horse seemed to be waiting for her to set a direction or give a command.

Without her steed running like mad through the sun-drenched glade, the burning weight of the summer day began to weigh upon her.

Something moved behind the bush to her immediate right. She had seen it out of the corner of her eye. She turned toward it and laid her full gaze upon it.

The bush seemed to be on fire. Wait a minute, it was the butterfly again! Its crazy blaze of color glowed behind the gaps in the bush.

She was so hot from the sun's rays that she became dizzy on the saddle. She looked down at herself and gushed with excitement at the sight of her breasts.

The nipples were bloated full. They were incredibly swollen and erect. The mere sight of them made her cunt tingle like mad.

She was burning on two fronts, from inside and without. Her cunt was on fire and the sun poured into her flesh.

She gasped as much from excitement as she did to gulp down a reviving rush of the cool wind that provided her with a short respite. After her lungs filled themselves, the heat once again overtook her and she had to fight to stop herself from passing out.

Her pants were soaked in sweat. She raised one leg over the saddle and sat there with her two legs draped over one side.