The Waiting is the Hardest Part
“Here we are, girl.” Jessie obeyed the tug of the reins and slowed down as she turned into the driveway. The petite, golden-haired ponygirl had been trained mercilessly, and now reacted instinctively to any commands, her long mane and full breasts bouncing in unison as she pulled her Master’s cart along the suburban streets. Fortunately, it was a gated community, so not many strangers saw her in her condition. Also fortunate was that community standards required that she wear at least a non-revealing bra and full-coverage panty girdle. ...