Robin opened the text and was as excited as he’d been the last three nights – and one morning. A son with divorced parents and living with his father Lieutenant General Rupert Lustingson-Cumming, a close friend and business colleague of the texter, this school sleepover and course on the Essex equestrian school had been perfect for many things, not least the private negotiations his father had completed, unknown to him. Robin made sure the zip was down as he’d left it when bedtime was announced by from Madeleine and Brian Whitlock who owned the stables/school, as he didn’t want that noise to alert others sleeping near in their own, much smaller and cheaper, tents.

“No Maddy tonight Bri?” queried Ronnie, the busty black barmaid at the Spur and Crop pubm pulling him his usual pint of Old Cock real ale. “Nah she’s got paperwork to finish then do her rounds of the tents, as she does and loves,” he replied. “All done with the ops mate?” asked old George, quaffing a pint of Guiness, sat at ‘his’ seat at the end of the bar. “Yeah hopefully thanks,” Brian replied ruefully, thinking of the repercussions of surgery which he’d been advised about and made his decision with Madeleine’s agreement.

Two minutes from Robin’s tent, Captain known as Cap, the enormous black and grey Shire stallion snorted and dragged his feathered forelegs across the concrete floor of his stall, the metal shoes rasping the rough surface beneath. Two delicate hands stroked his vitals – one cupping his massive six inch diameter grey shiny testicles, the other fondling the flabby darker grey folds of his sheath. Katherine Amberly Head was happy and waiting for her equine lover accomplice, her hand now enveloped in the warm sticky creases of Cap’s prepuce and finding his knob. She easily and sensitively slid her lubricated fingers round his soft bulb and started to tease it out.

Her constant frown and pout often generated the impression of a surly, sulky girl which she certainly was. Tall for her age, with waist long dark brown hair, roman nose over a strong overbite and clear focussed eyes, she nevertheless came alive in spirit when in touch with her first love animals - but in seriously premier favourite – big, male entire horses. Not a friendly kid, not liked at the Academy, her attractive fleshy figure would surely become bloated judging by the crap food she was fed and loved.

Now on her third and final visit to the residential stables, she aimed to persuade her father, to buy her a nice young stallion to augment the family stable of mares and attempt to pass on her knowledge, which would greatly concern her mother, of the hows, rights and wrongs of breeding. Mrs Head was well versed in breeding of humans, having provided the relentlessly trying Terence Head with four daughters and one son. At last the county set could almost hear him shout when Dominic was born.

“Open my shirt, just two big buttons,” urged Madeleine after clipping the tent folds back together. Cold hands sought her small breasts and while she initially shivered, knowing goose bumps would be shrouding her tits, her nipples, dark brown, stout and always distinctive would be burgeoning into the hard stubs she and Brian loved and now young Robin. The youth had blossomed in the short time he’d been under the wing – so to speak – of the mothering fifty nine year old silver blonde frizzed haired equestrian teacher and co-owner. How he loved her craggy lined face, with the big toothy mouth and decidedly wonky front tooth – so like his mummy Deborah, who mysteriously, to Robin anyway, had run off with an Indian subaltern in his father’s elite regiment. He also loved other totally new and thrilling things.

Madeleine had dressed for the late night tryst, shedding a 36C brassiere and her big white sensible – for working in the stables all day - panties, reminding herself she needed her pale blue French knickers tomorrow. She fiddled into the sleeping bag Robin had opened down one side and found, below his one garment, a khaki tee-shirt, his cock, small yes, but hard and ready. She knew extended foreplay was useless with the lad, years of experience had taught her that. He was hard and ready – self administration had been applied, encouraged by him sniffing the gusset of the previous days knickers she’d secreted to him. She disturbed both of their minimal explorations and discarded her jeans, then slid alongside Robin. Immediately he climbed aboard between her legs, Maddy thanking Rupert for kitting his son out with nothing but the best camping equipment and luckily a double bag.

Ronnie, big titted, they sagged to her waist when unfettered, was puffing as she descended the cellar stairs to ostensibly help Syd the landlord change a barrel of beer. Her hip was playing up again, but it was worth it – at seventy years old, she was still a good fuck, knew her stuff, and well known in the village even today and amongst the males of all ages and occasionally, very occasionally young girls, as Sixpenny. When her and her now deceased husband Errol had arrived in the village, they were penniless migrants from the Turks and Caicos Islands after their house was burned down by an arsonist and Errol had been done for selling drugs - connected. They were virtually forced out of the British Overseas Territory. Any money would do and she would offer to show her then blooming great black bosoms for sixpence, now the five pence coin, was then known. The nickname had stuck and now and then earned her nothing but the small coin. She was always grateful for small mercies.

“Lets ‘av a feel darlin,” Syd chuckled, not waiting for a response, delving into her heaving sweaty cleavage and hefting the elderly whoppers out of her hammock like brassiere. “Sixpence please, you old goat,” she giggled. “In fact its two, if yer grabbing, looks like you are, both of ‘em.” Syd’s cackled as his calloused mitts felt the old woman’s sumptuous knockers and bent to lick and suck them with his beery breath. “Always been a tit man Ronnie old gal – fuck knows why I picked that saggy ‘ole bag Doris, she’s never ‘ad any, even when she ‘ad Florence, Henry and Norm.” “She did yer proud with them, all lovely kids, careful ... ow!” she moaned, as he bit too sharply.

“Oh dear,” Madeleine sighed to herself as young Robin gasped into her shoulder and stopped ferociously ramming his juvenile dick into her capacious cunt. Is that it, she thought, he hasn’t improved, but it’s only been three nights and one morning since when she broke his very obvious virginity. “That was very nice dear, thank you,” she murmured, stroking his back and his floppy golden locks. As she found with the youth of today and she’d had a lot of them, they came quickly and were spent so soon and flopped with no thoughts of after-play – forget foreplay. But a dick was a dick, especially since Brian and her had come to terms with his inadequacy via radical prostate surgery.

The consultants had spelt it out. No erections – but they’d decided they’d had their fun and had a thriving business to occupy them. That was OK for him, but Maddy needed cock. She knew she wouldn’t get any tonight, apart from the risky business of trawling round the other tents for any of the lads in her care, but that was a no-no. She would find pleasure later.

Ronnie and Syd returned to the bar by separate stairs in the rambling old pub, greeted only by knowing grins and nudges amongst the regulars, Doris being in the snug watching East Enders on TV. Syd called her to serve at the lounge as he was busy, not really - but the main bar was his domain, not liking the snooty folk who wanted cocktails and the likes in the lounge. Ronnie served alongside him, gradually getting her breath back and reverting to her usual activity of stooping to get glasses and bottles from the lower shelves beneath the copper topped bar. She knew the constant display of her rolling, clashing and highly visible tits was one of the main attractions and played up to it. The sight of her cheery, smiling face, below her tight full head of steel silver hair grinning up at the ogling customers was a high spot, including Brian. Currently he was more focussed on a young woman in a group of four townies.