Truth or Erotic Myth?
(Photo courtesy of Pixabay)
Dr T J Jordan
There is something undeniably erotic in the equestrian environment. The scent of a warm, recently exercised horse, the sight of muscles rippling. The feeling of delicious silken strands across your cheeks as you bury your face beneath a horse’s mane. The scent of fresh hay, the creak and feel of a well oiled saddle between your legs, and the potential surge of tremendous power beneath you.
Tack rooms — the spaces in barns where bridles, whips, blankets, and braces to hold saddles are stored. I like best tack rooms furnished with leather sofas where riders can sit, asses clad in tight leather breeches pressed against leather seats, to pull on well used and carefully polished black leather boots. And the intoxicating intermingling of scents: human, equine, and leather.
And later — How erotic it feels after a long gallop to have a man kneeling at your feet, carefully but strongly pulling off your boots…and anticipating the sex that will happen with him afterward. Perhaps just the two of you, perhaps more. I had seen many such scenarios develop into full-on lust fests. Something about horses turns some of us women on, and when we are turned on, the men who have noticed us turn on as well.
Equestrian sports are replete with bodies clothed in some of the most revealing, second-skin garments that exist. There is a reason for this ultra tight clothing: It provides optimal contact between human crotch, ass and inner thighs with the saddle and the body of the huge animal being ridden. With this “feel” a rider can signal the movement she wishes with just the tiniest shift of weight on her seat bones. The ultimate goal in communication.
When I took my non-riding lover to the opening of a new tack shop, he stopped dead in his tracks just feet from the entrance. I recognized those dilated eyes and the feeding frenzy of lust. He was watching something he’d never seen before: a large store filled with horse gear and, walking around the gear, many beautiful young, athletically fit women in tight riding regalia. I feared he might actually swoon. He was wearing pants that were of a rather thin fabric, and I waited for the hint of the bulge that I knew was about to press upward and…