"Do I really smell of horse?"

[Zharakallt]

Steam was rising from both the horse and riders breaths as they turned the corner to the paddock and slowed down. One would think that being the daughter of Michael Beckman, the owner of the stable, Mathilda would have some sort of benefit in the choice of horse. It was quite the opposite. As a more experienced rider than most of the kids who swung by after school to train, Mathilda was usually riding Wyvern, a tall and stubborn horse that in a way resembled her well - though she liked to think of herself as a tad bit more elegant. Not much elegance was displayed today though, as she swung off the horse with stiff legs and undid the reins with fingers numb from cold, rushing for the hot shower she knew was waiting for her inside.

As the early crisp morning turned to midday, Mathilda heard the sound of tires against the gravel outside. She picked up her backpack and hurried out, but not before the driver honked the horn a few times. 
“You know you can’t do that West”, Mathilda reprehended her friend as she jumped into the passenger seat and slammed the door hard. “It scares the horses”.
Weston Hall waved one hand dismissively in the air. He started the car and sped away through the alley.
“I could see them from here, and they looked just as mindless and happy as before. Don’t you worry.” He gave her a playful smile and took his eyes off the road for a second. “I can still smell them from here though, there you have something to worry about Mathilda.”

“Do I really smell of horse?” Mathilda asked as Weston turned the key to his apartment, but she got no clear answer. Instead she was rushed to the couch while Weston shut the blinders and turned off the light she had left on in the hallway. It was time for the new season of Game of Thrones, released this very morning. But instead of pressing play as he slumped down in the couch beside her, Mathilda took the remote away and turned to him.

“I just showered this morning. Do I really smell of horse?” She was not smiling anymore.
“I will tell you after the first episode”, Weston teased with his eyes on the tv, “If you fetch the coffee in between”. He turned and reached for the remote behind Mathildas back, but she pushed him away, now grinning a bit. He looked at her puzzled for a moment before grabbing her arm,
reaching again for the remote. He had expected her to fight back a bit, as they used to wrestle as they were younger, but he did not expect her to be as strong as she was now. She had been sitting with her knees up and back against the arm rest, but instead of pushing forward she leaned further back to gain space, and then in an instant she had gotten her legs up and had her thighs wrapped around his neck. He instinctively tried to pry her legs open, digging into her thighs but she just tightened the grip. Years of training on horses had apparently paid off, and there was no way he could get loose. He felt his head get red and heavy with blood, and tried to look away from Mathildas mischievous eyes. He must be looking horrible right now, squeezed up only an arms length away from her face. Since he was still sitting with his legs down, partly turned to her, he had no leverage when she pushed against him, and he fell flat on his back before he could get his hands behind him.

“Mathilda”, he managed to get out as she heaved herself up, weight on his chest, and crossed her legs under his head. Now he did not know if it was only the pressure of her thighs around his neck making him blush. Mathilda had never been prudish, but the tights she wore after training were not nearly thick enough for him to be comfortable this close to her. He freed his arms and tried to push her back again, only to be prevented by her grip on the arm rest behind him. She wasn’t bigger than him, but he had been taken by surprise and now he started to feel numb and weak from the lack of oxygen.

“Do you yield?” Mathilda asked, but before he could answer she had scooted forward and he found himself more suffocated than strangled as she sat down firmly on top of him, covering his entire face. This was beyond anything Weston could have imagined her to do, and he felt immensely grateful for the closed curtains. He tried to shift his head to breathe, but there was nowhere to move. For some strange reason he felt even more humiliated having to fumble around with his face in her behind. He tried one last time to get free as the panic of suffocating took over, but he must have passed out as he woke up dazed some seconds later.

Mathilda had moved from his face and now lay comfortably behind him, his head in her lap and her thighs wrapped loosely around his neck, legs threateningly crossed on his chest. He refused to meet her eyes.
“Now you just lay there, still” Mathilda grinned as she pressed play, “And I might release you after the first episode.”

[Zharakallt]

Forgot to add: All cred goes to my wonderful gf who wrote it.

[bestmixedcatcher]

Fine written. And i love story started with fight for TV remote. Enyoy for more.
Good job,mate

[sjbdas]

Will there be a Part 2?