ext13 wrote:is it true that women tend to have orgasms while riding ?
Absolutely, most frequently when thinking of what a good ride the horse is compared to mere chaps. Sleek shiny muscled beings with no difficulty carrying my weight. What's not to cum
It's not cruel to ride horses as long as people are sensible about the process, which they used to be when your horse meant your life. Taking anything to an extreme is always going to cause problems. Unless things have changed radically a person looks after their horse or horses before they look after themselves. Horse-riding is one of the ultimate pleasures in life.
According to J.T. Edson and Louis L'Amour horse thieves were always strung up when caught in the US because a man's horse was his life. If someone robbed your horse and you were 100 odd miles from water or some sort of civilisation then they had as good as murdered you. This I could understand from my one and only pair of cowboy boots back in the 70s. Murder to walk in. Apparently, that is why stealing a car in the US carried the same penalty as murder at one time - GTA. I don't think it does anymore.
People who eat horse should be put in front of a firing squad and shot. Same with dog or cat. Actually, if the people who ate horse meat had seen the poor creatures it came from then they'd vomit their 'classy' dinners up. Where do old horses get sent to die? The horse abattoir. There was one in the village I lived in during my teens which had a long straight avenue up to the factory buildings. It always made my eyes fill up when I'd see a refrigerated lorry passing a lorry load of horses on the drive.
Horses are beautiful wonderful magical creatures full of personality although my sister's horse, when she was a teenager, was a malevolent possessed vicious bundle of teeth, hooves and murderous intent. My father was rightly gypped when he bought her. She was beautiful but she hated everyone. I've never been scared of any horse or animal but she earned my fear. On one occasion and one occasion only I tried riding her before I realised what she was and I have never been so fuckin
g scared in all my life. She did everything possible to unseat me and each time she'd turn her head around to look at me and give me such a wicked glare. The only reason I stayed on her back was that I knew that if I ended up on the ground either by my own volition or hers that I was dead. I ended up staying on her back for an hour or more locked in literally a death struggle with the bloody beast before someone realised that I hadn't appeared back at home and something must be wrong and came looking for me. I was sore the next day. The only other time that I touched her was a week or so later and my dad asked me to give him a hand with her while the blacksmith shod her. She concentrated on trying to kill my father that time after making an attempt on the blacksmith's/farrier's life. She only roughed me up a little. That blacksmith refused to return and try and do the job again. We had to get another one. My sister after a while was always scared of her but the mare would let her do for her and ride her, almost like she knew that she needed one human for service but she didn't have to like her or treat her kindly. She, the horse, acted like she was a Roman noble or plantation owner dealing with the lowest of field hands. Another time my mother was trying to get her into the horse box and she broke all her fingers, on one hand, trying to control the bloody creature. Never met a horse like that before or after.