There's a girl that I grew up with. She had a thing for horses, and she would spend most of her time fantasizing that she was a horse. She even had a little stable set up in her back yard.

I remember when she would play with the other girls, they had a rope and play that they were a team of horses. They would run up and down the sidewalk. you might say that she was horse crazy. She had a collection of those plastic horses that were manufactured during the 1950s and 60s. her room was one big horse theme. She had pictures of horses, and horses all over her room.

Her mother was a professional woman of some kind, who had something to do with cosmetic and beauty industry. She was very beautiful woman, and a single mother. A single parent was uncommon during the 1950s and early 60s. This girl's mother didn't really socialize much with the other mothers in the neighborhood. They seemed to keep to them selves.

I remember a one day, about the time when I was in junior high, this girl invited me over. One of the things that struck me was, that part of her house looked like a health spa. There was a room full of exercise equipment. It looked like an old Vic Tannie's spa, with the vibrating belt device, roller machines, and sauna. There was a massage table on the patio, and the yard was surrounded by a tall fence and trees.

Anyways, this girl wanted me to chase her around the yard and try to lasso her. She galloped around the yard pretending to be a wild horse as I tried to rope her. After roping her, she wanted me to put her into her little stable. Then with her in the stable she wanted me to brush her long black hair, as she whinnied contentedly.

Me being a horny young lad, and always eager to get a young girl out of her clothes, I suggested to her that horses didn't wear clothes. She turned and gave me a stern look, and grumbled like an angry horse, implying that she meant no.

Our little game went on into the late afternoon until her mother came home from work. Her mother told her that it was time for her massage, and said that it was time for me to go home. Her mother then went back into the house and turned on the sauna. Then this woman told her daughter to say good-by to me, and pushed me out the door.

This girl never asked me over again. At school she told me that her mother didn't like her having boys over to visit.

This horse fantasy of hers lasted up to high school. I went to a different high school. Her mother sent her to a private school. Her mother kept her inside most of the time. I never saw her much after junior high school.

I like thinking about her, and fancy the idea of her being brought up, and groomed to be a pony girl. Here's how I picture her as an adult.