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Jon had to get out. The endless traffic streaming past the flat was driving him mad.
A day at the trots would fix him, a few photos for the grandkids in Australia and a few beers and bets for himself. Wary of drinking and driving, he decided to walk the five kilometers to the track since it was a fine sunny day and he hoped to catch the last five races.
As Jon walked down Racecourse Road he could see smoke on the left billowing over some high macrocarpara hedges. He stopped to look, then a cyclist pulled up alongside him and said, “This looks like a bushfire of some sort mate, do you think we should call in at that house and alert the fire brigade?”
Jon cupped a hand to his ear and they both smiled and nodded at the sound of sirens wailing in the distance.
He hurried on down to the long driveway to the racecourse and jogged as fast as he could towards the stands in the distance. He rummaged in his bag for the camera when two fire engines passed by at full speed. There was a very strong north-westerly wind blowing, typical of the time and place in the region, and thick smoke was blowing away from the grandstands into the countryside. There were two large paddocks with horses temporarily housed in makeshift holding pens formed by electric fencing wire and stakes. As their races became closer the horses were moved into the stables on the course to be prepared for their events. These paddocks were hemmed in by the blazing hedges
The horses were terrified, leaping up in the air, kicking their legs out, trying to break free. They were standing on their hind legs, pawing at their restraints, desperate to escape. Through the telephoto lens Jon could see the fear in their eyes. After taking a few spectacular shots he hurried on and saw a group of cars with the occupants watching firemen running out hoses from their tenders and spraying water over a burning hedge. Flames were leaping high and flaming embers had already set fire to the other matrocarpara about 100 metres distant across the paddock and on to yet another in the far distance. Through the smoke were flashing images of red lights, clouds of steam, men heaving on hoses and ghostly outlines of horse attendants scurrying to lead the horses away from the nightmare.
Jon made his way into the racecourse and found the hedge behind the main grandstand well alight and flames spreading to a building which housed horses’ tack, sewing machines, jockeys and drivers’ silks and 100 years of racing memorabilia. Before his eyes this building was gutted despite the valiant attempts of the firemen.
As two of them looked to be containing the blaze with a hose plugged directly into the mains, the water pressure suddenly dropped. Two drunken youths annoyed at the turn of events and lack of racing had undone a locking pin at a hose joint and kicked it apart, causing a massive puddle to form on the lawn. Jon watched in disbelief as one of the larrikins held the dripping hose end to his middle and shouted “How’s this for size?” before being bahis firmaları knocked off his feet by a huge infuriated fireman to the cheers of onlookers .
The commentator advised that the fires were under control and after a bit of cleaning up the meeting would resume in an hour or so.
Jon headed for the Members Bar.
He put his camera bag up on a table and sipped on a cold beer. His camera was still around his neck. He looked around and had to blink hard when he saw a tall blonde lady heading his way.
“Excuse me, but are you an official photographer” she asked.
“Well, I can be if you want — what do you need?” he stammered.
“Only a picture of old Emma’s Loch when she wins the next — if it ever starts!” she giggled.
“No worries, have a seat” offered Jon.
“Pauline”, she said proffering a dainty hand.
“Jon” he smiled as he took it.
She owned Emma’s Loch and was up from the City for the day to see her run.
They hit it off. She was slightly older than him, very well dressed and well made up. He fancied her.
They were mellow when racing resumed and Emma’s Loch did not disgrace herself, finishing third.
Jon got the photos and an offer to join Pauline for a picnic at Akaroa the following day. This beautiful harbour resort with its historical French flavour was one of his favourite places and he keenly accepted the invitation. She disappeared at that point and he continued to enjoy the races.
He snapped OK Rocket crossing the line just a nose in front in a four way finish, as the drivers heaved and teased the best out of their charges, whips cracking furiously. He got a lovely shot of the winning driver saluting the judge with the horse flicking it’s mane in unison! The photo would not capture the catcalls and boos from the crowd since OK Rocket had no recent form whatever. Jon had no such concerns as he collected $170 for his $20 investment!
The meeting was well back on track and the talk was that a charcoal barbecue had fallen over and caused the fires.
Jon got back in action and wandered round the stables where he got a few nice head shots of the horses and a few more with the drivers, resplendent in their silks and white trousers.
He headed home exhilarated by the way the day had unfolded with the promise of more to come the following day.
After the usual leisurely Sunday breakfast Jon spruced up and packed two bottles of wine in a cooler before setting off for Hoon Hay. It was partly cloudy when he left Rangiora but the sky became progressively darker as he approached Christchurch When he rang the bell at Pauline’s a few spots of rain were already spattering onto her doorstep.
“Come in” she gushed, “Nice to see you again. — what have you done to the weather?”
“It wasn’t that bad when I left the sticks!” he laughed, ‘Let’s hope it clears up!”
But it didn’t and the rain got steadily heavier.
Pauline looked stunning in a green pantsuit. She was heavily made up kaçak iddaa with deep plum coloured lips framing her perfect white teeth. She had on a pair of blue high heels and Jon was wondering whether a picnic was ever on the agenda.
As Pauline made a coffee she said “Jon, I want to make it clear that I never sleep with a man on a first date.”
“Oh! That’s fine by me Pauline, neither do I!” he replied
She glanced slyly at him with a hint of a smile.
They sat on the couch sipping their drinks, watching the ducks waddling up from the creek at the bottom of the garden, pecking the sodden lawn and splashing in the newly formed pools.
They talked about this and that. She had been widowed twice and was comfortably off. He had been married for 30 years and was separated from his wife.
Jon massaged her legs when she spun and laid them across his lap.
She wore black sheer stockings and he fondled the shoes and her legs.
“I’ve got a foot fetish Pauline – I just love extra high heels” Jon said.
“That makes two of us” she replied, “I just don’t feel dressed without them., I’ll give you a look at a few pairs after lunch if you are a good boy – because I’ve got lots of nice bits and pieces through there!”
“Oh! Yes please, I’ll be a really good boy if you’ll let me!” he said, his breath quickening.
The picnic lunch from her hamper and the two bottles of wine were enjoyed slowly then Pauline went off to get ready.
The first outfit was a severe black business suit with a mini skirt and four inch heels. Jon’s eyes nearly popped out at the sight and he grovelled at her feet.
“You naughty boy.” she said teasingly, sliding her hands down the outside of her thighs and pouting at him. She paraded around to the music, turning here and there to smile at Jon, and then went to change.
She returned ten minutes later with a long black wig, black lipstick, a white lace trimmed blouse and black leggings tucked into long thigh high patent leather boots with five inch heels. In her hand was a riding crop.
“On your knees Jon, I think you have been a very naughty boy after all!” she laughed. He touched her boots as he bent over and she playfully stroked him a few times. She strutted around smacking her boots.
“My goodness Pauline, you are sensational” said Jon.
“Come in to the bedroom in fifteen minutes if you’re up for it!”
she said, as she breezed out, -“Freshen up in the spare room.”
Naked, he nervously tiptoed into the dimly lit master bedroom.
Pauline was standing in a pair of red 6 inch sling back shoes, her hair piled high on her head and she had on a very short light blue baby doll top , which left nothing to the imagination.
“I see you are up for it big boy” whispered Pauline as she reached out her arms to him. They kissed for a few minutes, fondling each other then he was astride her on the bed.
“You are beautiful” Jon whispered in her ear.
“You know when to say the right things” she kaçak bahis whispered back, nuzzling his ear. “C’mon let’s try it in front of the mirror!”
Reluctantly he halted proceedings and they made their way to the dresser. She put her hands on the top drawer handles bending over to look at herself. He gaped when he saw her long legs in the high heels. His heart raced as he put his arms on her hips.
Just then the telephone on the dresser rang.
“It’s my daughter,” said Pauline. “She rings every night at this time to see if I’m OK.”
“Hi Darling! Oh nothing much. It’s been raining cats and dogs all day”…
“I was going to Akaroa with some racing people but the weather put paid to that”…
“I’ve been in bed all afternoon reading a book and I’m just going to have tea, watch Sunday Theatre and go to bed”..
“No, I won’t forget you are bringing the girls tomorrow for a few days”…
“Ok Darling, see you then.”
Jon was sitting on the bed.
“Sorry about that Chief,” grinned Pauline – “I see you’re not quite up for it anymore!”
“Want a bet?” Jon whooped, as he dived towards her.
It was very fast and furious.
She covered him in edible oil and massaged, stroked and licked him all over.
. “Oh Mummy.” was all John could say as she spread-eagled him and tied him with silk scarves to the wrought iron bed ends.
She straddled his hips and he looked up to see her huge breasts swaying tantalizingly above him. Pauline looked down running her tongue over her glossy lips.
“I must be in heaven,” said Jon, breathlessly. “Where did you get these beauties?”
“They’re all yours big boy!” she teased, knowing that he was trapped.
“Oh baby,” she whispered, “I’m coming!” She wrapped her arms around her head, wild with passion. Her breath shortened, getting higher in pitch with every forced whimper. She stopped moving and looked down at Jon.
“Can I escape now?” he said – “I have a bit of serious business to attend to!”
When his bonds were free he covered her back with oil, then grasping her hips he entered her.
He traced a gentle figure eight on her back, over her shoulders down over her hips and around her buttocks. She was very quiet, shivering with pleasure as his hands soothed her.
Then, neither of them moved. She could feel him getting bigger and bigger inside her. She shuddered, bracing herself and waiting with expectation for the exhilarating explosion that was coming.
Jon suddenly arched his back and he breathed deeply as he bucked and released every drop of pent up tension and emotion. He burst out laughing as he did at such a moment.
“God! That was fantastic,” she said. “Thank goodness I never have sex on a first date! I hate to think what might have happened if I did!”
He roared with laughter as he cuddled her. “That was absolutely brilliant,” he said, squeezing her breasts fondly. “You are one heck of a woman!”
“No no!” she replied “You were brilliant sir!”
After a hot shower and a coffee she sent him packing before dawn – hoping to get some sleep before her rowdy grandchildren arrived. They promised to do it again when Emma’s Loch raced at Timaru in a couple of week’s time.
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