A Cowgurlz Christmas
This is my entry for the
Literotica Winter Holidays Story Contest 2024
!
This incest/taboo story features two characters introduced in my story, My Sister and the Cowgurl Cantina. Colt, a sometimes-bumbling cowboy wannabe, and Emma, a fiery redheaded cowgirl from West Texas. They are both attending the University of Texas. As Christmas break begins, Emma drives Colt to her family ranch to meet her parents. But Emma's mom shows Colt more than just the ranch. This is a complete, standalone story told from the POV of Emma's mother.
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Chapter One
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Our two dogs began barking, and I hoped it meant they spotted Emma's truck. Emma brought her boyfriend, Colt, with her, and I looked forward to meeting him. The way she talked about him during our video calls led me to think she was falling in love with him. I hoped Emma kept her Christian vow of celibacy before marriage, resisting temptations of the flesh.
The crunch of gravel announced their arrival in front of our ranch house, and I listened to the familiar engine sounds of her classic old Ford pickup truck. It was a sound I knew well. My husband, John, was driving that very truck when I met him twenty years ago. It was old then, but John loved it and cared for it. He gave it to Emma on her eighteenth birthday so she could drive herself to UT Austin. I remembered the day in August when Emma left home. After a final wave, John began crying, and I wondered whether he would miss Emma or his old truck more.
John was riding the fences on horseback, checking one of our pastures. We had a four-wheeler, but John was an old-school cowboy who liked to get out on horseback as often as possible. He says horses always start, never run out of gas, and don't leave your hands greasy.
I went out front to greet the new arrivals. Emma ran up and nearly knocked me over with a jumping hug. Emma and I are both petites, so I had to spin partway around to keep myself from falling over. Then she gave me a polite kiss and I returned the same.
"I'm so happy to be back home, Momma!"
My eyes watered as I looked at Emma's smile. She always crinkles up her nose when she smiles, showing off her beautiful, freckled cheeks. She let her flame-red hair grow out, and from beneath her cowgirl hat, a pair of ponytails escaped to either side.
"Momma, I'd like you to meet my boyfriend, Colt. In person this time."
As I set Emma down, Colt walked up to me. He was taller than the six-inch-tall man I met on my cell phone, but not by much. But here on the ranch, we don't measure each other in inches. Like Emma, I was only five-foot-two and Colt stood maybe four inches above me. He dressed like a cowboy but didn't look like one. By that, I mean he had boots, Wranglers, a Western shirt, and a cowboy hat, but they were too new looking, with nothing showing much wear. He had an attractive face, neither rugged nor plain, and short brown hair.
Here on the ranch, the headband of every hat gets stained with sweat, every boot gets dusty and scuffed, and every pair of jeans gets faded. It wasn't for lack of money, the ranch was doing incredibly well, but we never bought any clothing to show off. Christians like us should never be guilty of the sin of pride.
Colt had a single bag, but Emma had two, so I helped her with one of them. We entered the main room of the old ranch house. Built decades ago, with a strong Mexican influence, the house included adobe walls and a clay tile roof. I was the third generation on my side of the family to live here, and I hoped Emma would be the fourth. The family bedrooms were up a flight of stairs, off to the right, while the guest bedroom was on ground level off to the left.
I put Emma's bag down at the bottom of the stairs and led Colt to his room. Opening the thick wood-planked door with its iron hinges, I showed him the queen-sized bed with decorative comforter and shams and a fully stocked attached bath. While not boastful in the clothing that we wore, the same did not hold when we entertained guests. Emma and I had decorated this room before she left for college, and it was equal to or better than any luxury hotel.
"The room is very nice," said Colt.
"We do our best," I replied. "After you settle in, mosey down to the kitchen and I'll pour you some sweet tea."
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Chapter Two
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When I returned to the main room, Emma's second bag was gone, as was she. I left her room just as she left it in August, except for adding a family photograph on the wall. Colt was the first to arrive, and I brought out the pitcher of sweet tea and three glasses. Colt and I sat down at the kitchen table and sipped tea while we waited for Emma.
Colt scanned the main room, which was open to the kitchen, and said, "That's a mighty big Christmas tree you have there. When are you going to decorate it?"
"Each year, we drive west into the mountains of New Mexico to cut down a tree and use a trailer to get it home. It wasn't the same this year without Emma, so I think my husband, John, overdid it to impress her when she got home. We held off decorating until Emma got home and we hope you and Emma would help. We also have some garland and lights to be hung in the main room."
"I would be honored," said Colt. "Christmas trees are all about memories and tradition. I would cherish learning more about how your family celebrates Christmas. I've always wanted to live on a big ranch like this one."
I was impressed. The words coming off Colt's tongue were even sweeter than the tea I was drinking. Emma arrived, and while she sipped her tea, the three of us planned our decorating. The high ceiling of the main room and the top third of the tree were only reachable by ladder. John anticipated this, so yesterday, he had brought out an extension ladder and a step ladder, leaning them against the wall. I retrieved our decorations, along with tools and hangers for the garland. The three of us began working on the base of the tree.
Emma rushed about, pointing to various ornaments, "Don't touch this one! I get to hang this one! Let go of that one, it's mine!"
It was great to see the excitement she brought back to the house. It's been so quiet the past four months without her. We decorated as high as any of us could reach, so it was time for the step ladder. Emma picked up an ornament and climbed the ladder. Colt stood at the bottom, and as I picked out the next ornament, I saw him looking right at Emma's butt, right at his eye level. Emma shifted her feet and dithered about, looking for the perfect branch before finding one.