Becky, My Hill Country Redhead, #1
My first time meeting this beautiful, redheaded, pretty, country woman with green eyes and freckles.
It was the summer of 1977, just after our country's two-hundred-year birthday, when I had one of my most cherished memories that I'll never forget. I remember it well because it seemed that everywhere I looked, our patriotic reminder, proud of their country, people flew the stars and stripes. Leftovers from the bicentennial, there were red, white, and blue flags, banners, and decorations that adorned and hung from every tree, pole, house, business, balcony, and banister.
My name is David. Forty-five years ago, a lifetime ago, I was 24-year-old. Older and wiser now, much like every older man, I wished I knew back then what I know now. Missing my fun times and regretting some of my missed, sexual opportunities, I wished I could relive those days when I was a horny and virile, young man.
If I say so myself, I was a good-looking, young man. At 6' 4" and gangly thin, just the type of man that young, beautiful women were sexually attracted to, I was a 165 pound cowboy, with long, blonde hair, and bright, blue eyes. I lived in Waco, Texas, made famous 14-years later in 1993 with the Branch Davidians and David Koresh claiming that he was the messiah.
Texas is a good place to live. The people are friendly, and the lifestyle is laid back. It has a great climate, a robust economy, no state income taxes, and affordable housing.
Admittedly, the healthcare costs are expensive, the tenth highest in the nation. Yet, with Mexico just across the border, a 1,350-mile, two-day drive away, I can buy prescription drugs there much cheaper. Plenty of people make the round trip to buy the medications that they otherwise can't afford in the United States.
With Texas the only state that the power grid is not controlled by the federal government, that may be a problem during severe weather. Fortunately, Texas doesn't get much snow. Conversely, bugs, big bugs, are a nightmare. From huge, creepy crawlers to flying bugs nearly as big as small birds, where everything is big in Texas, there are lots of big bugs in the lone star state.
Single with no girlfriend, and no prospects on the horizon, not ready to be attached and settle down, luckily and fortunately for me, I've never been without a date. I always managed to find an attractive woman on a Saturday night at a local, country-western bar to dance with me and to, hopefully, tickle my fancy later. I loved dancing as much as I loved having my fancy tickled. Seemingly, with me filled with an abundance of testosterone, dancing and sex always go together.
Testing the sexual waters by dipping my toe in the deep end, I preferred dating a variety of women instead of going steady with one woman before being engaged to marry. Indeed, I was a horny, young man looking to fill my wild oats while making sexual memories that I'd remember for the rest of my life. With so very many beautiful and available women out there, it was hard to choose only one.
As if buying a box of a Whitman sampler chocolates, I couldn't eat just one. In the way of Tom Hanks in Forrest Gump as Forrest Gump, taking a bite out of each piece of chocolate, I needed to sample the whole box. I needed to sample as many women as I could before deciding on one to be my forever wife.
F F F
When dancing with a good-looking man, women become just as sexually flustered as men become sexually randy. My favorite thing to do was to dance with a pretty lady while holding her close, talking to her, and whispering sweet nothing in her ear as we danced on the dance floor. Fortunately, for me, the state with the most Miss America winners, there are lots of tall, blonde, and beautiful women with big tits in Texas. An ongoing thing, with every woman wanting to be the next beauty queen, there are lots of beauty pageants and beauty queens in Texas.
Along with Miss America's, Texas has a lot of Miss Everything, from towns to counties, to events, to schools, to rodeos, and to parades, Texas has an abundance of beauty pageants. Seemingly, there's a beauty contest on every street corner, in every hall, and at every mall. Starting them out young, as if they were women instead of young girls, stage mothers pushed their daughters to dress up, wear makeup, and practice their walking, posing, singing, dancing, baton twirling, and musical instrument playing.
Back then, before cell phones, the Internet, and social media, the biggest bar that I frequented was called the Melody Ranch. Ah, just remembering the name of the Melody Ranch, with every memory having a woman attached, evoked lots of exciting, sexual memories. With one woman more beautiful than the next, I met more than a few women at the Melody Ranch.
Indeed, the Melody Ranch was the place to go on a Saturday night to meet the most beautiful and sexually available women in Texas. With no cover charge and without a two-drink minimum, the bar was a magnet for tall, Texas blondes. Beautiful woman flocked there to dance.
Some of the women I danced with, included one who was partially deaf, were stunning. Surprisingly, light on her feet, with her a good dancer, she danced without her shoes to feel the music rising up from the floor. A huge dance floor that could easily fit one-hundred or more people, they boasted the largest dance floor between Austin and Dallas.
They featured live bands on weekends including big name, country western music stars, celebrity artists before they were famous. Back then, a few years before Billy Bob's Honky Tonk opened in Fort Worth, Texas, the Melody Ranch in Waco, Texas, much like the Grand Ole Opry in Nashville, Tennessee. That was the place to go to not only get noticed but also to get discovered.
Willie Nelson, Johnny Cash, Conway Twitty, Dolly Parton, John Denver, Glen Campbell, Tanya Tucker, Mel Tillis, George Jones, Dottie West, Ronnie Milsap, Waylon Jennings, Kenny Rogers, Charlie Pride, Merle Haggard, Tammy Wynette, and Loretta Lynn all played and sang there at one time or another. Every Saturday night from 8 pm until 2 am, that place was rocking. Mobbed with young, horny men and beautiful woman looking for a hookup and who loved to dance were there all night.
If a cowboy played his cards right without coming on too strong by being too rude, too randy, and too drunk, that was the place to go to get laid. There were dozens of hookups every Saturday night. Women were looking for men as much as men were looking for women.
My favorite haunting, stomping, and dancing ground, I met more than a few women at Melody Ranch. Interestingly enough, the name, Melody Ranch was taken from a backlot studio that was fashioned and modeled after a small, lawless town where westerns were filmed in Hollywood. When going to that bar with all of the historic details of western memorabilia, of props, and pictures decorating every wall, along with the swinging saloon doors when first walking inside, the bar felt as if I had returned to the wild west.
Being plain and simple, country folk, the women never wore skirts or dresses. Many of them, especially the older woman, didn't even wear makeup. Much like the women that appeared in Urban Cowboy three-years later with John Travolta and Debra Winger, their standard uniform of choice consisted of jeans and a western shirt, or a casual T shirt with boots and a cowgirl hat.
The only women who wore skirts were the mature, married women. Their skirts were usually long, down to mid-calf, while still high enough to show off their fancy and colorful cowgirl boots. Staying in the back and dancing near the end of the dance floor, they seemed embarrassed to mingle with the tall, blonde, Texas beauties who vied for men's sexual attention while showing off more than just their dance moves.
F F F
Considered quite the dancer, again, if I say so myself, I had a long dancing repertoire. I could dance the standard two-step, the waltz, the Schottish, polkas, and the Cotton Eyed Joe. I danced the Cotton Eyed Joe, a circle dance with polka steps and heel and toe clogging, twenty-years before it was made popular by the Redneck's version of the classic folk song in 1994. If a woman could keep up with me, we danced the boots off everyone.
A woman with whom I had danced, once told me that tall men with long legs tend to make the best dancers because, careful where they step, they are self-conscious about themselves. I fit the bill. Definitely tall with long legs, sometimes, I was self-conscious about my height and my long legs. Sometimes, instead of standing tall, embarrassed to stick out in a crowd, especially when I was younger, I tended to walk a little stooped over so as not to show my height advantage over shorter people.
Yet, having long legs when dancing is an attribute. Especially when dancing with a new dance partner, my having long legs is a bonus for my partner. I took advantage of my long legs to easily maneuver her, lead her, and steer her around the dance floor. Most times, my dance partners were amazed how well I danced. Especially when dancing in the way of Fred Astaire with Ginger Rogers. As if armed with rearview mirrors, I danced backwards without bumping into anyone on the crowded dance floor.
On this one particular night, I wore my tight, blue jeans, a colorful western shirt, my chocolate brown, Stetson cowboy hat, my rodeo belt buckle, and my favorite, shit kicking, cowboy boots. Hard not to notice her with her sticking out in a crowd of tall, Texas blondes, I couldn't help but notice a beautiful redhead sitting close to the dance floor. With her not dancing very often, she sat with another woman whom I guessed to be her friend and/or her roommate. Instead of dancing themselves, they enviously watched everyone else dance.
I assumed that the reason they weren't dancing much was that, to the casual observer, they didn't appear as appealing as the multitude of the tall, blonde women with big tits who'd dance standing upright or lying down with anyone. I considered these loud, laughing, attention hungry women whores, women who would sleep with anyone. No doubt, instead of thinking of them as whores, most cowboys thought of these women as sluts, women who would sleep with anyone but with them.
While surveying the crowd of women, I stood with my back to the bar with my elbows resting on the brass railing as if I was a quickdraw, gunslinger without a holster or a gun. When my redhead turned her pretty head to scan the room, she stopped to look at me with sexual interest. I gave her a big, white, toothy grin. I smiled at her, and she smiled back at me. Giving me the signal that she was sexually interested in me as much as I was sexually interested in her, that was my key to introduce myself to my woman of choice.
F F F
