Helen had always loved horses and was an accomplished rider. As a young girl, she'd been fanatical about gymkhanas and had shelves full of now-tarnished trophies and tattered rosettes. Of course, Daddy had indulged her every whim, and she'd had her own horses from an early age.
Now, aged eighteen and in her first year at university, she had discovered polo. Not only did it challenge her riding skills, but many of the players were hot, eminently fuckable Argentinian men. She started playing in a few four-goal matches and was appalled at the poor riding skills of her fellow novices. But to her chagrin, they all struck the ball better with the mallet.
Helen was determined to excel at the sport, so when the autumn term finished, between matches, she practised almost daily with mallet and ball at an indoor arena near her home, hoping to hone her skills and improve on the demeaning minus two handicap all new players received.
Sure enough, practice improved her technique, and Daddy came through with a string of ponies, allowing her to rotate them between chukkas.
One brisk winter day a few days before Christmas, and soon after her arse had been enjoyably reamed for the first time, she spent an exhausting afternoon practising on her favourite horse, Coralito, repeatedly galloping around the arena, attempting shots on goal from all angles. Her horse - her pony, she corrected herself; polo horses were always "ponies" - had performed fantastically, far better than herself. He was agile and fast, responsive to her slightest command. Helen loved the feeling of power that controlling the virile animal between her legs gave her. She smiled. Nearly as good as riding and controlling a hard dick, Helen thought. Another skill she'd practised assiduously since starting at university.
Helen shook her head; unlike her pony, who had performed flawlessly, she had repeatedly missed the ball or sliced it, so it flew off at an angle and bounced off the arena walls. Hardly any of her shots had been on target. Still, she knew she was improving.
When Helen finally called it a day, she dismounted and led the usually spirited but now visibly sweating and tired Coralito to the stables. A tall, tanned, muscular groom she'd never seen before took the reins. He was old, with grey hair and a deeply lined, tanned face, but an outstanding, slim, athletic physique. Helen walked alongside as the old groom led her pony towards the stalls, intending to pamper her well-deserving mount; the poor animal had had to endure her inept shots for hours. The least she could do was to see Coralito settled, fed and given a good rub down.
Helen glanced slyly at the man walking by her side. He might be old, but he can rub me down whenever he likes. She heard the athletic Argentinian mutter something in Spanish. All Helen caught were a few fragments.
"... mocosa mimada ... no debere abusar ..." The man sounded annoyed.
Her Spanish was rusty, but "spoiled brat" and "abusing an animal" irritated her; she'd never mistreat any living thing, though she admitted she was perhaps a tad entitled. So she exploded, taking her frustrations at her mediocre performance out on the man.
"How dare you," she said coldly. "Coralito loved the workout. He's just a bit sweaty; that's why I'm still here. He needs a good rub down, some water." Helen pulled an apple from a pocket in her fleece. "And a treat or two."
The man snorted. "Por todos los santos," the man said quietly, not reacting to her outburst. "Can't you see he's sweating and shivering? You pushed Coralito far too hard today."
She drew a deep breath. The groom's dark brown eyes widened slightly, and she waited while he stared at her ample bosom. After a few seconds, he looked her up and down.
Helen couldn't help herself. She giggled. But now she looked more carefully, the poor pony was exhausted and trembling.
"Don't you dare laugh," the man said. "He doesn't deserve to be treated like this, especially by an unthinking, entitled brat like you."
Helen waited a moment before speaking, trying not to inflame things further. She shook her head slowly and smiled, her eyes fixed on the now prominent bulge in his crotch.
"Let's start again. I laughed because you were staring at my boobs." Helen paused again. "But you're right. I pushed Coralito too hard; I didn't mean to; I just got carried away trying to hit that bloody ball."
The man shrugged, still staring at her chest. "They are quite eye-catching," he said, completely unrepentant.
After a moment, he looked her in the eye and smiled. "I really should punish you," he said. "But it's Christmas, and I'm feeling charitable."
Helen grinned when the man's gaze quickly strayed back to her chest, only returning to her face after a few seconds.
"Also, I watched you practise," he continued, "and I'm quite impressed with your persistence. You already ride like a pro, so you might become a decent player if you keep at it."
The man muttered quietly in Spanish, almost inaudible, but Helen caught the gist: but his dick would love to punish her cunt.
She felt her nipples harden, and she scanned the old man's lithe body. And she wouldn't object. Helen nodded. "Let's put Coralito to bed first; then, perhaps you can punish my pussy."
The man looked startled that she'd understood what he said. He looked thoughtful momentarily, then shook his head, carefully not looking at her. "Sorry, miss," he said, "but you posh girls never treat the ponies right, and none of you really understand Spanish."
The man took several deep breaths. "First things first," he said. "You'd better sort his tack; I'll give him a good rub-down."
Helen removed Coralito's bridle and undid the saddle's girth, brushing seductively against the hot groom at every opportunity.
She took the saddle and bridle to the tack room, storing them neatly in the racks. When she returned from the tack room, she saw steam rising from her pony in the cold winter air. I really did work Coralito too hard, she thought regretfully. Then the man's body and tight arse caught her eye. A fuck from this bloke would make her day; a great, early Christmas present!
Helen approached the man quietly from behind as he groomed Coralito. She pressed her tits against his back and reached around him, feeling for his crotch.
The man jumped. He turned around, looking startled, and momentarily stared into her blue eyes. His gaze lingered on her chest again before moving down her body. The man licked his lips as he stared at her crotch. His hand reached slowly forward towards her pussy.
Helen glanced down; her jodhpurs were so tight they made a camel toe, and the crack was noticeably dark from her juices.
She made no attempt to stop his hand and watched his fingers squeeze intimately between her legs, pressing her thong further between her moist labia. Instead, she clamped her hand over his, holding it tight against her sex.
"You weren't just humouring me, then?" the grey-haired old groom asked. "Can I really fuck your pussy?"
"Yes, I want you to punish me," Helen said. "I should have stopped practising much earlier, but Coralito was so fantastic I didn't realise how exhausted he was."
Helen removed her bulky fleece, with its pockets stuffed with apples. Underneath, she wore an old white blouse that she'd outgrown but couldn't bear to throw away, which was very tight around her chest. His hand invaded her jodhpurs, sliding beneath her thong to toy with her clitoris. In return, she reached down and massaged the massive erection that tented his trousers.
She leaned forward and kissed him briefly as she played with his gigantic cock.
"Let me help you with that," Helen said, "before I let you punish me properly."
She dropped to her knees and unbuttoned the top of his jeans. Her hand reached inside and felt his stiff cock, before she unzipped his flies and pulled down his boxer shorts. His immense uncircumcised dick sprang free. Helen took his enormous erection in one hand, pulled back his foreskin, and started to slowly wank his wooden shaft. Her tongue flicked out and briefly licked his glans.
The man moaned. "Stop teasing," he said. "Suck me, or I might go easy on the punishment."
Helen opened her mouth wide and wrapped her lips around the man's delicious erection. She bobbed her head a few times, sucking just the first few inches as her hand slowly wanked his long fat shaft. Then Helen moved her hand away, clasping his taut bum instead, and inhaled, taking his entire length inside her mouth. She suppressed the expected urge to gag as his mammoth dick slid past her tonsils and smoothly down her throat.
The man sighed. "My god, that feels good."
Soon, the groom was moaning with pleasure as her head moved back and forth. She felt his buttocks tighten and spasm beneath her hands and braced herself for the inevitable gush of hot spunk that quickly filled her mouth. She swallowed as much as she could, but there was too much, and cum dribbled down her chin.
After she swallowed, she wiped her chin clean and dried her hand on a hay bale. The man was now insatiable and frantic. His hands fumbled at the buttons of her blouse. He undid the top two, then shook his head.