These Colorado Boys - Sex Stories

These Colorado Boys

Clearwater Ranch – Twenty-five Miles South of Pueblo

After fifteen hours of driving across the country, the Fagundes family finally arrives at their lifetime friend’s home in the heart of the homeland.

It’s hot for this time of year, the distant mountains missing their signature white-capped peaks, the grass along the plains dryer and browner than Adriana remembers. It’s been years since she’s been out this way with her family. It was during the drive, somewhere west of Salina, that Adriana remembered why she always loathed the trip out to Clearwater Ranch. When she finally arrives, though, with the rolling hills and streams, the beautiful trees which pose such a sea of change from Missouri, that her passion for this quiet part of the country comes flooding back.

The family is met in the gravel driveway leading up to the main house, a beautiful place settled east of the hills. Yup, it’s just as Adriana remembered. It seems as though they have done everything they can to ensure Adriana’s memory remains the image they strive to maintain.

It’s not that she isn’t happy to be here. She is. It’s just that she needs a moment to herself after such an enduring drive.

Adriana walks, worn tennis shoes under long legs and tiny shorts, not minding how the stiff grass scrapes beside her legs. She finds herself meandering toward a wooden fence by a long shed. It seems as good as any place to search for herself.

She mounts the fence, one leg swinging after the other, her ...

... small frame hardly causing a bend in the wooden rail. It’s hot.Damn, it’s hot. Sweat beads grow under her long button-up shirt, but she doesn’t mind. Her long hair is quickly whipped into a ponytail. Adriana exhales.

Save for the cry of the cicada, it’s quiet on this edge of the world she knows. Adriana couldn’t see herself calling this place home, but she welcomes its beautiful sense of peace.

The sound of a cow catches her attention. Somewhere across the field and down the hill of swaying grass, cows and shuffling sounds carry on the wind. Adriana watches, feeling the sound trot closer. Before long, she hears a sharp, pitched whistle. She remains sitting on the fence, intrigued but unamused as she pushes a piece of hair from her pretty, round face.

A black hat scoots above the grass, stopping, then resuming as it floats along the hill. A rider crests the grassy hill in pursuit of the cows, his black hat prominent over white shirt and jeans. He rises in the saddle, calling to the cows as he rides along.

The horse he rides is strong, a seasoned beast of burden who knows the cows better than his rider.

Adriana has a hand up to her brow, blocking the gleaming sun as the rider comes into view. Her pretty smile is instantaneous upon the call of the cowboy’s‘Hyp!’ and,‘Hey! Git!’

The cowboy finally sits, satisfied that these dumb animals are finally doing his bidding. He looks tired, hot for sure, the task of herding beasts something Adriana could never bring ...