I'm not what most would call "sexy." At least I don't think so. I've always been more of a tomboy; goofing off with my guy friends, telling dirty jokes, spending most of my time outside getting dirty, or making fun of those prissy girls all done up in makeup and tight scanty clothes and big strappy heels who shudder at the thought of stepping foot anywhere put a flashy club.
It probably didn't help that I grew up on a ranch. I learned more about branding and doctoring livestock as a teenager than most girls would chance to consider. At five two and one hundred and twenty pounds, you learn to be self sufficient. Especially when a big bull is staring you down in a small corral and he sure as hell isn't going to sit pretty for you to vaccinate him.
I can rope and ride with the best cowboys around. They know me and respect me because I've earned it. I have a good reputation and no one would venture to guess that I'm not the "good girl" I appear to be: at least not when I'm by myself.
When no one is around I let my mind wander. I wonder what it would be like to have my tight virgin pussy stretched wide and ravished by a big cock, the owner of which completely disregarding how it might hurt to have my sweet young hole pounded. I've daydreamed about having a man slip his massive member deep inside my untried ass, and shoot his load deep into my bowels. I wake up with thoughts of having a man fuck my face, forcing his manhood deep into my throat, not caring if I can breathe or if it brings tears to my eyes.
I yearn to be dominated.
So, definitely there must be something wrong with me. What normal girl would get turned on watching a stallion cover a mare? It makes me wet to see such a primal, purely sexual act; no gentle coaxing or sweet lovemaking, but hard, hot sex with grunts and biting and squeals. You'll never see a mare complain, at least not when she's in the grips of such a hard heat that she yearns to have a stallion deep inside her. Her hormones have gone haywire and make her want to copulate more than anything else. But at least a mare only acts like that when she's in heat. I feel like that all the time.
I touch myself at night. I wonder how different it would be to have a man stroke the tender skin of my sweet lips, playing with the soft curls that cover my womanhood. What would it be like to have a man spread me open and toy with the tiny sensitive bud within? I can bring myself to peak with these thoughts, but I know there's more to be had than just my own hands under the sheets.
I bet you're thinking to yourself, "then do it already! Go find a guy and let him fuck you!" And I guess you're right, but how can I get up the courage to ask one of the guys I've grown up with to look at me as anything other than a tomboy? Or, worse than that, how can I ask them to do all these dirty things to me? Not me. They wouldn't consider the fact that I'd dream of such things.
So, now you can see my dilemma. I was beyond sexually frustrated, and I was completely stumped as to what to do, that is until Ethan came along.
I was managing to make it through my days, albeit in a constant state of wetness, by working as hard as I could in the daylight, and rubbing myself to climax before drifting off to sleep at night. It was a hard several months. My sexual curiosity was getting worse everyday and I didn't know how much more I could take.
Then, like the answer to a prayer, Ethan drove up in his beat up Dodge pickup one day looking for work. He was tall, broad shouldered, and had that cockiness about him that most good looking, hard working guys have, especially cowboys. He wore his black Stetson tilted back on his head (in what Chris LeDoux would call a Texas grin, even though Ethan wasn't from Texas), his well worn Wrangler jeans low on his hips, and a button up shirt that clung to his chest like it was happy to be there.
I knew in that instant, he was what I needed. He was quite a bit older than me, I could tell, but that didn't stop me from thinking about all the things I wanted Ethan to do to my body.
I had to plan though. A guy like him wouldn't look twice at me unless I could figure out a way to entice him. After I was certain he would be hired, I nonchalantly made my way back to the house and straight up the stairs to my room. I flung open the closet doors and began rummaging through all my clothes, desperately searching for something that could be passed off as "sexy."
There wasn't much to work with . . . The best I had was a few tank tops and a few pairs of jeans that I'd outgrown some time ago. I shimmied into the pair of jeans with the most potential and turned around to survey my ass in the mirror.
Not bad really. I did have a nice butt, but tight jeans were a pain when you were on a horse all day. "I guess I'll have to suck it up." I thought to myself. I had set my sights on Ethan and I was going all out. I turned back around to study my perky breasts. Sure, they weren't the biggest, but if I could find that stupid push up bra I got as a joke a few years ago, I bet they'd look quite nice. I rifled around some more, finding and getting into said bra and slipping a tight tank top over my head. As an after thought, I shook my long hair out of its standard ponytail and went to put on my boots.
"What will the guys think?" I thought to myself. I took one last look in the mirror and was pretty proud of what I'd created. My small figure could potentially pass as sexy in this. I smiled to myself.
~~~~~~~~~~
The Lazy J Ranch wasn't the biggest around, but I knew that it's the kind of place a guy wouldn't mind working for. The owners are stand up people, and there was no sign that they going under anytime soon, so I thought it was a good a place as any to start looking for a job.
I was fresh to Arizona, having come from a New Mexico cattle ranch that had gone under. It suited my timing just fine though. The Boss' wife was getting a bit clingy and all our "relationship" had started out as was physical. She was a sweet little piece with big welcoming boobs and a soft ass that was easy to hold onto as you fucked her from behind. But settling down wasn't my style and lately she had been hinting that we should run off together.
I had been a cowboy and a drifter most of my life. A drifter since I looked old enough to pass for eighteen, and a cowboy ever since falling in love with a simple life. There are no complications on a ranch. You do your job well, get paid, maybe get laid, and move on when it just doesn't suit you anymore. I'd worked on several ranches, a few dude setups (which was fun cause there were always well off women who wanted to have their legs spread by a real cowboy), but mostly cattle outfits. It was hard work, but mostly good people who respected you if you weren't an idiot.
I pulled up to the main house at Lazy J at seven in the morning and was hired on the spot. It was like I figured; a good ranch is always in need of a good hand. And I had a good reputation, even if it was from the next state over. I parked my truck in front of the bunkhouse, threw my bags on an empty bunk, and grabbed my saddle. There was work to be done and now I was getting paid to do it.
As I walked into the barn, a sexy little thing peeked her head out of the tack room and looked me up and down. Her long black hair suggested an Indian heritage, though her complexion hinted otherwise. She had lightly tanned skin with hints of freckles across her cheeks. And she must have poured herself into that tank top this morning because her sweet little breasts were protesting and strained to pop out of the low cut top. As I walked closer to join her in the tack room I could see that her skin tight jeans left nothing to the imagination, either.
"Hi there," I said and tipped my hat. "I'm Ethan. I'm supposed to meet Sam here to get a horse." I tried not to stare at her. She had this pouty little mouth that was begging to be kissed. And I swear she bent over to pick up a bridle off the floor just to tease me.
