Cowgirl - Sex Stories

Cowgirl

In many ways a cowhand is similar to a sailor. He'll spend days or weeks on the trail, with scarcely another human in sight except for his fellow cowboy, and when he returns to civilization he craves some lovely feminine companionship; craves it so much he'll often fantasize about it, experience mirages like men dying of thirst in the desert. Thus it was with Stanley's men that summer afternoon when the stranger rode into their midst. The men figured they had to be imagining things -- either that or they'd been eating loco weed. The stranger was a woman. And not just any woman, but a jaw-dropping, palm-sweating, I-need-some-desert-time-alone kind of woman. The first thing the men noticed was that she smelled like a lady. She rode into the camp proudly, sporting an eager grin on her smooth-jawed face, and reeking of cleanliness and fancy city parfumes. The men saw she was dressed in fancy cowboy dudes: sleek, tight-fitting, cordoroy pants, with scarcely a speck of dust on them, brand-new leather chaps, boots that must have a cost a hundred dollars _each_, an oversize red-and-white checkered fannel shirt, a red bandana tied in a neat knot around her throat, and topping off the outfit, a ten-gallon felt cowboy hat tied to her head by a slender string that looped under her chin. The men didn't know whether to drool or laugh. "She's a goddamned city slicker!" grunted one man finally, and he was echoed by a round of guffaws. "I'll slick her city," growled another, to even bigger ...

... laughs. The woman didn't flinch, though a deaf person would have heard the comments. Instead she grinned at men and tried to wave her hat at them, but got the string tangled under her chin. "Howdy, boys!" she finally managed, waving the hat broadly. "My name's Beth Ann Morgan, but everyone calls me Betsy. I'm from New Jersey. This is my first time in Montana. Wonderful place. I'm sure proud to be here. Stanley Herdass sent me. I'm your new cowhand!" The stunned silence that coldly greeted this introduction would have quieted most locals, or even the town d***k, but not Beth Ann Morgan. She rattled on, oblivious to the manevolent eyes heading her way. "Now I know I've got a lot to learn about cowherding, so don't think I'm not willing to learn. I've been dreaming about being a cowgirl for as long as I could dream, and Daddy finally told me to get out of his factory and go out West and get it over with, so here I am, and I'm gonna be the best durned cowgirl in the entire state of Montana!" The boys just looked at each other in shock. Finally one man began to laugh. He was a big man -- Big Joe was his name -- and he was widely respected by the other men. He laughed and jostled Kenny, the foreman. "Don't ya see? It's a joke! Stanley's playing us as fools, boss!" Instantly the other men caught on. Cries of "Of course!" and "That Stanley!" and "Pretty funny." echoed around the campsite. The girl sat on her horse and watched the men chatter for a moment, and then she shrugged and ...