I grew up on a farm with horse farms on both sides and a cow farm behind us. We had chickens, pigs and, for a while, a couple of horses. The tack room was part of life for me. The room was only about 400 square feet but there were 2 windows that let the sun light up the room. Two walls were completely riddled with bits and reins, one wall was lined with wooden storage chests the looked like treasure chests with flat lids. Upside-down feed supply buckets were stacked in a corner, and, the saddle racks stood in the middle. There were always two or three saddles sitting on the racks. Blankets lined up on bars over each saddle.
The smell of saddle leather and raw horse sweat just has a personality of it's own. The leather, not like leather pants or kinky leather whips, but the leather of a tack room is unique. It is worn and shiny, polished from the rider sliding around, and, being cleaned and oiled well. It has this wonderful and strong scent. The scent is tied to many good memories for me. The most recent one is one of the best.
I had spent a long day working around the farm. I was in the tack room cleaning my favorite saddle. I had pulled one of the storage boxes over in front of the saddle rack and grabbed the stack of feed buckets to sit on. I pulled everything I needed out of the box and started rubbing down the saddle with cleaner. I was so focused on my saddle that I didn't notice when someone walked into the room. It was one of the women that boarded her horse on our farm. She was a cute natural blonde with hazel eyes. She was wearing a pair of jeans, a red blouse, running shoes and a wonderful smile. I had talked to her a few times before. I couldn't help but admire her ample chest and round butt every time I saw her. She had a disarming personality and was easy to talk to.
She walked into the room and came to stand next to me. We made some small talk about the nice weather and then she asked if I needed any help with my saddle? I explained to her that I had it under control and thanked her for the offer. She knelt down on her knees and watched me work for a few minutes. It was getting harder to concentrate on the saddle. Her blouse was unbuttoned enough to give me a great peek at her cleavage. She mentioned that she had seen me around the farm and had wanted to spend some time with me.