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The Carousel Horse by Peter Baltensperger

Ursula rode around the carousel on her wooden steed, oblivious to the screaming children and the smiling parents and the obviously bored and disinterested attendants. She had fallen in love with the horse as soon as she saw it moving around on the carousel and could hardly wait her turn in the line-up to mount it and ride around on it as the calliope played its all-too-familiar tunes.

He was a beautiful steed, decked out in intricate decorations of ribbons and precious stones, as if for a royal parade. His contours fitted perfectly between her legs, the polished brass pole rubbing against her pussy as he slowly moved up and down, up and down, carrying her around in never-ending circles, cycles. She pressed herself against his contours and the brass pole as tightly as she could, closed her eyes, let her imagination roam to the rhythmic movement and the sounds of the calliope.

Her pussy was becoming more and more agitated as her ride continued, her nipples hardening and burning in her bra, her mind flooded with images of copulation, incredible stimulation, and mind-blowing satisfaction. She wanted to cry her intense pleasure out to the world when she felt her orgasm welling up from somewhere deep inside her, but she contained herself and just let the delicious currents course through her, filling her body, her mind, her soul.

The ride came to an end all too soon. She left the carnival as quickly as she could without looking back once, just concentrating on the images in her mind, the beautiful communion with her steed, the deep joy of her orgasm.

As soon as she returned to her apartment, she logged onto the Internet and looked for carousel horses. She quickly found a beautiful website featuring exact miniature replicas from an obviously famous collection in Germany. They were absolutely beautiful creations, as beautiful and intricately decorated as the steed of her ride.

It didn’t take her long to come to a particularly impressive and arousing replica, a white steed that was designated as a nobleman’s war charger. She was falling in love all over again. The waiting was pure agony; she could hardly do anything with herself, aside from thinking about the steed being selected, wrapped, and shipped.

When the parcel arrived, she tore open the packaging with trembling hands, dug into the Styrofoam chips, and quickly pulled out her treasure. He was absolutely magnificent, breathtakingly beautiful, sexy and alluring beyond her wildest dreams. She just stood there in her apartment, holding him in her hands, taking in all the details of his royal demeanor: his sleek muscles, the pure white skin, the perfect saddle, the lavish decorations. His mouth was partly open, showing his white teeth, looking as if he were neighing at her. She pressed him against her breasts, felt his warmth, his love.

She could just see herself riding him across the countryside, guiding him gently with the reins and the slightest of pressure from her legs on his flanks. It was as if she needn’t do anything except think about what she wanted him to do, and he immediately responded to her every wish and quiet command.

She had him cross the countryside at a slow canter to give herself the benefit of his bobbing up and down, the pressure of the saddle sending delicious shivers over her pussy, through her body, up to her breasts, her eager nipples, into her mind. Her legs fitted perfectly around his body, her thighs rubbing deliciously against the saddle, her calves and heels pressed lightly against his flanks.

Filled with exhilaration, fervent love, admiration, and absolute delight in her steed and her ride, she floated along on his back, her whole body in a state of pure, delicious arousal. Her mind was flooded with the images of her bobbing along as he cantered along quiet country lanes, through whispering forests, across shallow rivers. She couldn’t have wished for more.

She finally tore herself loose from her reverie and found a perfect spot for him in her kitchen where she could look at him while she cooked her simple supper. Then she moved him onto the dining room table for her meal, and back into the kitchen again for the clean-up. From there she took him into the living room to watch television for a while. After the late news, she carried him into her bedroom and placed him on her night table so she could keep her eyes on him—and he his eyes on her.

Slowly, as if she were on stage at an exclusive club, she started to peel off her clothes and drop them on the chair in the corner. She knew he appreciated her disrobing, admired her full breasts when she let them fall out of her bra and straightened up to show them off, sucked in his breath when she slid out of her panties and stood naked before him. She shuddered, exhilarated from her wanton act, his appreciation, the arcs of electricity flying back and forth between them.

She could hardly wait to get into bed with him. She pulled back the covers, fluffed the pillows, picked him up from the night table and placed him carefully, lovingly, on the pillow beside hers. Then she climbed into bed herself, pulled the covers up over both of them, and put her hand on his fiery body. She reached between her legs with the other and rubbed herself to an oh-so-delicious, shuddering orgasm, her eyes wide open and focused on his the whole time. Her orgasm kept eddying through her body, filling every fiber, every nerve, every crevice in her brain with the luscious jubilation of her new love.

When the feelings of fulfillment and gratification quieted her body and she relaxed again, she kissed her steed goodnight, put her arm protectively over him, and fell into a deep, thoroughly contented sleep.

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Peter Baltensperger is a Canadian writer of Swiss origin and the author of ten books of poetry, fiction and non-fiction. His stories, poems, essays and articles have also appeared in several hundred publications around the world. His erotic writing has been published in The International Journal of Erotica, In the Buff, Erotic Tales, My Wife and Her Lovers, and Kairos, is forthcoming in The Mammoth Book of Erotic Confessions, and appears online in Lucrezia Magazine, Oysters & Chocolate, Eros Monthly, Bare Back Magazine, and Samarel Artcore Fantasies. He makes his home in London (Canada) with his wife Viki and their two cats and a tortoise.

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