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A woman finds out how beautiful she truly is.

One of my favorite times on horse back was in upper state New York. I was visiting an estate of an eccentric couple - she was into meditation and yoga and raising prize peonies, he was into raising Arabians and filming soft porn fantasy erotica - using the members of the commune from the adjacent estate as members of the cast.

It was a late spring day - on the out skirts of Rochester - where spring comes with such a vengeance after the torture of bitter winter cold. There had been several suicides that winter - at my college dorm. Between the drugs sex and normal depression of isolation over the holidays.... the icy winds that dug deep into your bones having gathered their power from Lake Erie storms - relentless. The relief of spring in the Rochester country side is a cascade of life giving joy.

So....the buoyancy of springs magic was running in me - and with it came my discovery of a commune in the pastoral community of York. My bisexual girlfriend - from my college dorm in my freshman year - her older world wiser sister was a member of this extended family group. An informal extended family of friends and ambiguous coupling - where visiting traveling friends brought the best in the mind altering substances for all to share; Turkish hash - carried in big blocks - like cheese wheels - hidden in the bottom of giant candles - the finest quality grass - from South America and the Far East.

We would sit on the grass in amorphous community gatherings - surrounded by the opulence of the newly leafed trees and the smell of lilacs in full bloom - passing hookah's and other smoking apparatuses - Hubbley Bubblies....Often there were 10 or 15 or even 20 of us. A highly intelligent crowd - who were friends with Andy Warhol and Allen Ginsburg and Timothy Leary and Richard Alpert (Ram Dass). Who shared the stories of the experiments in consciousness that were going on with LSD just down state from us - at a similar estate. Who shared the stories of making their way through India, Turkey and Afghanistan...of close calls with police and nights in foreign jails.

These were the cast of characters that were drawn into the home made movies of the Arabian horse breeder. I remember one crazy scene - we had all just finished doing an Indian sweat lodge - near the small pond on his 50 acre estate - 20 of us or so in various stages of clothed and unclothed - sunning on the lush lawns.

The scene called for a naked man to be on a raft in the middle of the pond. He was wearing a Top Hat and long Tailed Tuxedo - on the top. And nothing on the bottom.

One of the scantily clad women was on the raft with him. ... there was a giant Black umbrella that protected them from the intensely bright sun. She was paying homage to his giant erection. The film crew was doing their best to capture the event. The estate owner - was the director - orchestrating beautiful bodies to place themselves in position. Some naked swimming approaching the tuxedoed center cock piece.

I had been given my pick of the Arabian mares to ride. This was my day to act out my favorite fantasy. It was simple - I wanted to ride this beautiful horse through the pristine forest, of this estate.... with my own flesh fully bared to the sun. I wanted to feel the warmth of that mare under the wetted lips of my labia.

And so I did. I remember to this day - the green touched dappled sunlight that played across the wooded path. The sun as it played upon the horse's neck and flank, upon my own ivory skin. I remember the rhythm of her motion - as I moistened and felt my fluids wetting her warm and receiving flesh.

I wandered for hours - blending with my mare - feeling the natural air grace my almost raw - virginal skin.

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