An ancient found story, definitely in need of restoration.

Starting, funding, with my parents help, running and succeeding with an elite exclusive catering company five years ago in the pricey area east of Winchester I liked to get my hands dirty as it were doing the many jobs I employed a team to carry out. This ranged from manning the telephone ordering, customers that is, stocking, visiting the cash and carry outlets to buy ingredients and my main occupation buying the local listed products that we specialised in. One of my favourites was to visit the watercress farms and that was where I met Judith. She was there as a customer too, but only on a personal level buying a bunch or two for her own consumption, whereas I bought buckets of the pungent crop. It just so happens, that Judith’s place was about 2 miles from the watercress beds

Judith was a spry 69 years young, I found out later, her comfy, elegant and cultured personality made a pleasant wait for my van to be loaded as we chatted outside the farm shop. She took my card after I assured her we did home deliveries as much as visiting households and cooking meals on the spot for dinner parties etc. The fact that she lived alone in the middle of nowhere didn’t matter and I decided that I would deliver her first order.

It arrived some weeks later, in fact I took the phone call and we had a chat about weather – what else? And her plans for a dinner party for friends, but wanted to try our stuff purely on a one off for her. After the drive to Judith’s small farm, I arrived early. I wanted to give myself extra time for trying to find the place. Judith was a little surprised to see me when she answered the large cottage door, and offered to give me a little tour, as I’d expressed how lovely she had the place and what a great setting, since I had extra time. I can’t say that I remember much of what she was saying as she led me through the house. I was a little preoccupied checking her out as she pointed out all of the antique furnishings throughout her home. I did spot a threadbare Persian hall carpet and a handsome grandfather clock. Several gaily painted vases and mugs were on shelves in the kitchen.

I was guessing that Judith was a farmer’s daughter or wife, widowed. She was wearing DMs, loose denim jeans, and a sleeveless shocking pink blouse. Her greying silver black hair was trimmed neatly to the base of her neck which revealed the usual signs of age, sunken flesh, pronounced under tssue from jaw line to bone. I was trying to remain cool, staring at her sagging, I am guessing, C cups nudging her blouse out. As she gestured to expensive looking artefacts, I love armpits and there was plenty of Judith’s multi wrinkled visible pits as her blouse was slung loose, also revealing the lace edged top of a white brassiere.We made our way outside, and took a walk through the stables across a yard out back. Judith had two chesnut female horses, one adult and one filly, and a gorgeous silver grey stallion. She continued to talk of her day to day activities and how most of them revolved around the horses.

I looked at my watch and mentioned that I must be going, the business called and I was due to meet a poultry supplier back at bsae. Judith apologized for rambling on, and as I made my way back to my car, she asked if I was working tomorrow. I would be but be free by about four in the afteroon, so she suggested I call in tomorrow and continue the tour, which I accepted.

I did not want to appear too eager, so it was about four thirty in the afternoon when I arrived at Judith’s farm on Thursday. She greeted me with a big smile on her face at the front door. She offered me some lemonade, and I followed her through to an impressive large modern kitchen, whi I commented looked ideal for my gang to cook for her dinner party. We went out to the stables. When we entered them, I noticed that the mare was quite calm, while the filly and the stallion were restlessly moving about their stalls. I asked Judith if they were always like this, and she told me no, as she was latching the outside door to the stable. She explained that the filly was in heat, but was not mature enough to breed, but the stallion could smell her and was agitated. She thought she might place him in another stable building later, as he could smash the substantial stall apart.

I looked at him. He had fully dropped as he strutted around. Judith noticed too, saying that he was also excited because it had been nearly a week since he was mating with the another female at – as she put it, with a satisifed chuckle, a substantial fee, and had not had any covers since then. I petted the filly for a little while as Judith entered the stallion’s stall, leaving my view, telling me that she would normally ride out on some of the lanes near her four acre property. She said that she would usually ride Faith, the older mare, the stallion was too stong for her, but she had ways of handling him. I thought, I bet she does, looking at his impressive, slack, long pink and grey mottled penis.

Judith walked him out into the yard and said “But since these two are acting up so bad, I thing I’ll should just stick to riding in the paddocks here, oh! have I left a bag in there, be a love and check for me please.”

I didn’t find a bag, but when I rejoined her she was standing next to the stallion, fully naked. She gave me another big grin as she walked the horse over and hitched him to a post. Her boobs were full and low slung, they wobbled luciously, topped with pale areolae and tiny pink buds. She had a hell of a shapely butt. Fatty where normal, two delicate little creases under each, hardly cellulitic cheek and extra weight on her upper thighs but still all in the right places and a definite waist remained. Explaing her nudity, she usually did the cleaning that way as she got messy and hated messy clothig, after all she would have wash and dry them, being single and without staff.

“You don’t mind do you? You’re an adult, handsome and I am sure you’ve got girls gagging for it ... yeah?”

“I don’t mind of course, it was unusual, but very very nice,” I giggled. “As long as you’re happy with me ogling you,” I giggled.

“I like a bit of ogling now and then, even a bit of leering heh heh,” she chuckled., picking up a bucket and placed it next to the stud. She was cerainly a woman of the world in her repartee. She grabbed a wet, soapy towel from the bucket and proceeded to wash the quivering horse cock, hanging before her. Pulling it out as it had receded halfway back into it’s sheath. She looked over towards me, judging me, appraising me and my reactions. I appraised her fabulous elderly body, baearing mind I was only 36, but adoring the mature females.

“I have always wanted to try this, and he’s going to cover a mare at Dorking on Monday. It’s a little too dangerous to do by myself, so I figured it was a good idea to have a big, strong man here.”

She threw the towel back in the bucket and set it aside. Then she pulled a small bench over and slid it under the horse. What the fuck? Was she expecting a reaction fromher mentioning my stature and presence? Judith slid under the horse and laid on her bench, on her back slid down the bench and grabbed his donger, aiming it at her shaven crotch, which fascinated me, for her age and seeming single existence. There again she could view porn videos as much as the next woman – and me. She wriggled herself down, guiding the tip of its knob into her. I decided that I wasn’t entirely sure where this was going to end, but I might as well join in.

I knelt down beside her and started twiddling her nipples while she humped away at the horse’s flare. He didn’t seem to be enjoying itself all that much. She got a bit tired, so I suggested that we try something else. Judith willingly climbed out, smiling, happily remarking she had judged me to be a fellow bestial lover. For me I wasn’t sure of that, apart from watching a few videos on the net. I guessed she was enjoying exposing herself and my participation. I took her inside to near Vixen’s stall. I’d noticed a small narrow work bench inside the stable and dragged it over. I told her to stand there and to bend over opening her legs. Amazingly, without wonder, without fear - she followed my directions. The stallion who we’d led inside too was brought near the bench whinnying as he caught Vixen’s sex odours and sniffed around his mistress’s rear end which is what I would have done too. Her arse hole winked and her bare bald pussy was moist, as she’d splayed her legs wide in anticipation of what was to come, her pussy lips were open The stallion finished sniffing, neighed and whinnied shrilly and then immediately reared up, his front legs hanging either side of her obviously sturdy frame and the bench. This afforded him a full view of Vixen as he humped, his knob waving around trying to gain entrance to this remarkable old lady. I was sure that this would work well, as it was quite similar to how I’d seen ranchers harvest horse semen – on the internet.