Part 23; I Don't Think I Like It

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Together they led the horses out of the stables and tied them to two posts in the sun. They groomed and saddled them, and Charlotte listened to him telling her about the characteristics of both horses, and elaborating on the process of buying them, a few years earlier.

Charlotte was happy. She realized her moods were constantly shifting, spurned primarily by the unexpected events she was being subjected to in this new and different lifestyle, but was able to embrace freely the contentment that came with being outdoors with animals, and being able to revel in childhood memories of what had been her favorite sport at the time.

He walked around the two horses to stand next to Charlotte, and wrapped her in his arms. He could tell that he had chosen exactly the right activity to allow Charlotte to relax and exert herself, in order to strengthen their relationship and let her feel at home with him. He also appreciated the fact that he was able to take her outside of the property after days of her having remained inside, out of worry that she might try to make the disadvantages of her circumstances come to light, if given too much freedom.

Charlotte nestled her head into his chest and closed her eyes. The sun shone warmly on her face and the faint sounds of insects buzzing in the meadow made her smile. Engaging in physical contact with him was becoming easier by the day. The fact that he had slept beside her at night had introduced an element of safety in her mind, and she felt their relationship evolve slightly. She snuggled against his further and he raised his hand to stroke her head, pressing her firmly against him. Charlotte breathed out a long sigh of relaxation, and he let go of her.

"Let me help you get up, I think you're a little too small to manage to get up there by yourself - especially without stirrups."

Charlotte nodded and let him lift her by the leg, straddling the odd-looking saddle. As he let all of her weight gently on to the saddle, she felt the series of bumps press into her nether regions uncomfortably, creating pressure points of varying size, shape and force. Charlotte shifted uncomfortably on the saddle, trying to find the position that felt least invasive to her, and failed. She looked at him helplessly, and that look was greeted by a satisfied smile on his part. He took the reins and help them up to her, letting her fingers brush his hand as she took them from him. Then he went over to his own horse, and mounted it. Not a word was exchanged in regard to the discomfort caused by Charlotte's saddle.


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