How do I describe Keith exactly how he is…well he’s about 6 foot and dark brown hair that’s turning gray at his temple. He’s 37 and married but that doesn’t stop the way he feels about a certain young adult. Keith knows its normal for a man his age to lust after a younger woman but never but his thoughts in actions with her. He never considered himself sexy because he thought that wasn’t his decision. But he did have a great body. He was a diver for half of his life. He loved his wife Kate but was getting tired of the different hours they worked. It left little time for them to be together alone. He wanted something new, maybe a new job, maybe a new life.

Keith was looking for a new job with the same hours as his wife so he could see her more. He came across a little small ranch and saw the sign that said “Help Wanted.” He drove down the driveway about a mile and saw the huge ranch house. He thought ‘Wow..defiantly not a city house like I’m used to.’ He knocked on the door and to his demise the sweet innocent farmers daughter appeared. “Hello. Are you coming down because of the job offering?” He could see her dad in the background put down his coffee and come behind his daughter. “Yes, actually. I need a good job. Hard work isn’t a problem with me. Whatever work you have I can get it done.” Keith said with much hope he would get the job.

“Well what’s your name son?” Asked the man behind his daughter.

“Keith. Keith Banks. Yours?” Keith asked. “Tim Hale. This here is my daughter, Grace Hale.” He confirmed putting his hand on his daughters shoulders. “Hello Grace.” Keith said with a warm smile.

“Hello Mr. Banks.” Grace said smiling back. “Oh no, please call me Keith.”

“Well Keith looks like you might be the man to get the job done. What’s your past experiences?” The older man asked him.

“Well I’ve been a diver for 25 years. Recently decided to retire and get a job that has good hours and pays well. I can lift heavy objects and I’ve worked with machinery.” Keith said with pride.

“Grace get some sweet tea ready. Looks like we got ourselves a new farmhand.” Mr. Hale said as he shook Keith hand.

Mr. Hale and Keith walked around the barn and talked about the work that needed to be done while Grace was steady working on making some sweet tea.

Grace just turned 18 and was living with her dad on the ranch. She was leaving in a few months to go to the military. She thought about the new ranch hand Keith. He seemed like a good man. Grace thought back to his warm welcoming smile and it reminded her of her last boyfriend of 2 years. She had her heart broken when she found out he was cheating on her. Grace although for her age was very mature in all the right places. Long brownish blonde hair and hazel eyes. She stood tall for a girl at 5’9 and her breasts were fully developed. She blocked the thoughts of Keith and continued working on the tea.

“This needs to be fixed.” Mr. Hale said pointing to the ladder going into the hay loft. “Sir, when do you want it fixed? Today? Tomorrow?” “Boy! I like you! Ready to get the job done as fast as possible. You can start whenever you like. You can get 2 hours of work in today and come back early tomorrow morning. You’ll work 12 hours a day with a breakfast, lunch, and dinner break.” “Sounds great thanks again Mr. Hale. Where do you keep your nails and hammer at?” “Right over there in that red box. I’m going inside if you need anything just holler.”

Keith walked over to the shelf and got the hammer and nails. He worked in the hot barn and hit his fingers many times while banging in nails. He did this cause his thoughts we’re racing. He would finally get to go home and see his wife on time..they were going to have hard sex when he got home and he knew it. About 30 minutes passed and Grace walked into the barn with the sweet tea.

“Keith I got you some sweet tea.” Grace said as she put the tea down on the bale of hay. “Why thank you miss. So how old are you? 15? 16?” He thought he was about right on the age. “No sir, I’m 18. Turned 18 two months ago.” “Well damn I was off wasn’t I?” Keith joked and got a beautiful smile back in return.

“So Grace.. What do you plan on doing now that your an adult?” “Well I plan on going into the military. I’m not sure what branch yet but I have 3 more months to decide so no big rush. I heard you were a diver? So I take it you were in the Navy?” She asked questioning him.

“Yes. I’m still 100% active duty. But I got out of it to be with my wife. She works at a local job we didn’t see much of each other. So hopefully it works out now. I didn’t see your mom here does she work in town too?” Keith asked

There was a silence in the room. The boards creaked as the sun heated the room. Grace looked up at Keith with tears in her eyes and spoke very softly. “My mother died a year ago. I never got to say goodbye..she died in a car accident coming back late at night.” Keith was shocked. He felt so guilty and hurt. He made this beautiful young girl cry. “I’m so sorry Grace I-I-I had no idea I just thought…” “Keith its ok. You didn’t know its fine” Grace forced a smile and wiped her eyes.

“Grace I’m sorry. Really.” Keith opened his arms to hug the girl and she hugged him back. His heart beat faster and fluttered. His stomach did leaps like it had when he was single and free and saw a pretty woman. He pushed it away as excitement for this evening.

Grace thought back to her last failed relationship and broke the hug fast and backed away.

“ ok?” Keith asked very concerned wondering what he did wrong. Maybe he moved too quickly for the hug.

“I’m fine. I just thought about my last failed relationship. It didn’t work the guy cheated on me with my best friend. I haven’t talked to either since. It broke my heart.”

“Grace , I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up bad feelings. ” Keith looked down at his watch and saw his two hours were done with. “Well Grace its been nice talking to you. I best be going. Please tell your father I’ll be back tomorrow at 6.”

Grace watched Keith leave the barn and he got in his truck and left. Grace thought about Keith and his hug. She felt how his hands grew warmer the longer the hug went. She felt that a long time ago when her ex boyfriend hugged her like that. Grace walked back into the house kicked off her cowgirl boots and told her dad the news. She went and showered and laid down in bed and closed her eyes and thoughts of Keith flooded her mind.

“Dammit!” Keith muttered as his stubbed is toe running up the stairs expecting to see his wife just coming out of the shower as usual. Kate was already in bed and about to turn the lights down when Keith walked in. “Kate..are you going to sleep already?” “Yes Keith. You should go get showered and get some sleep.” “Kate…I had plans this evening for me and you…” “Keith what were they?” Kate seemed pissed that Keith was keeping her awake. Keith didn’t like the way she referred to his plans as ‘were’ “Kate never mind. I got a new job so we could see each other more. Kate I love you and wanted to make love to you this evening. I can’t even remember the last time we even had a sexual touch with each other.” “Keith go take a shower and go to bed. I told you I don’t like have sex. Its gross. I’m sorry babe.” Kate stood up and walked over to Keith and kissed his cheek. Keith walked away into the shower. Sadly he hung his head and thought about his failed plans. Him and his wife were never going to have sex again. He knew it.

Early next morning Keith woke up with a note next to his pillow it read ‘Keith, I’m sorry about last night. You know I never liked having sex with you. Your too much alike to the guy that raped me. I love you darling still..’ Keith was furious. He was being compared to a rapist. How the fuck was this true? He didn’t care he went to work to blow off some of his steam.

Grace woke up feeling energized and her heart excited almost to see Keith. She put on her skinny jeans that clung to her perfectly rounded ass. A low rise blue and gray flannel and slipped on her cowgirl boots and went to milk cattle. Shortly after she was in the barn Keith arrived.

“Good morning Grace. Sleep good?” Keith said with new hope his day might be better with some good companion talk. “Morning Keith. Slept fine. You?” She asked smiling as her hair fell down over her left shoulder. “Ah my night could have been better with my wife.” “Oh. I’m sorry to hear. What happened if you don’t mind me asking?” Grace said as she milked the other two cattle.

Keith began telling his story as he swept all the barn stalls. They shared some intense moments as Keith’s voice rose with anger towards his wife. “Oh Keith I’m sorry to hear about your wife. It sounds like sexual trauma.” “Grace can I ask a question? Do you think I’m still attractive for my age? I mean maybe my wife just doesn’t find me attractive.”

Grace paused and thought carefully about her answer. “Keith..your attractive just in your own way. Maybe your wife really does have trauma I don’t think its because she doesn’t find you attractive. Your actually~” Grace stopped talking and went back to working his cheeks red as fire. “Grace?” “Your actually very handsome.” Grace forced herself to be true to herself.

“Why Grace! Haha thank you! Always great to hear somebody say that.” Keith’s laughed echoed throughout the barn. His smile lingered on his face. That comment truly warmed his heart. He thought about that girl over there working. He couldn’t help but take his glances. She worked hard and quietly after making that comment. Keith was sure she was shy and embarrassed.

About 12 noon Grace made sandwiches and brought a pitcher of sweet tea out to the back of her red beat up ford truck. Keith walked out the barn shirt less and sweating. Grace felt her mouth drop. This man was so muscular. He had muscles in all the right places. His chest was sculpted perfectly and he had a trail of hair go down over his abs into his pants. He even had the v-line muscles. Grace stopped her thoughts closed her mouth sat on the back of the truck.

“Well Grace thank you very much. Your a good cook. Well your daddy said I have an hour lunch break. You know anything fun around here to do?” Keith asked.

“Why yes I do. Your not afraid to get those pants wet are you? Haha I got a swimming hole we can go to and cool off. Its about 30 feet deep. We can dive off the rocks.” She said smiling. “Grace that sounds like a fine idea let’s go.” They finished there lunch and off they went. After a 10 minute drive through the field they were there.

The creek widened into a wide circle with a little water fall over the side of the rocks. The green grassy bank was perfect. He kicked off his shoes and turned and looked at Grace and said “Watch this.” Keith climbed the rocks up to the top. Grace watched as his back muscles moved with his arms as he pulled himself up. He said before he jumped “For Grace! Aha” and did a the most perfect dive ever. He dove all the way to the bottom and brought up handfuls of dirt.

Grace smiled and splashed her feet in the water. She wasn’t going to get in so she thought. Keith swam to the side where she was sitting. His hair slicked back from the water. He touched her hand and noticed she didn’t jump back. She looked down and said “Damn you gotta stop being so perfect.” Grace said softly looking into Keith’s eyes. He smiled and said “I can’t help it if I’m perfect. But~” He didn’t finished it. He pulled Grace in and starting splashing her with water and laughing because he broke the moment.

When Grace caught her breath she look at Keith in the water and said “Damn you Keith Banks.” She smiled and swam to shore. She stood up soaking wet and said “Now I have to dry off. I hope you don’t mind but I’m taking my jeans and shirt off.” Keith at this state didn’t mind. He hadn’t seen a woman undress in front of him for awhile. His wife damn well certainly do it. Although he knew this was wrong to watch but hey what else could a man do.

She slowly took off her wet skinny jeans. Even harder to take than dry. She finally got them off and took off her socks. Then she undid the buttons on her shirt and Keith looked at this marvelous body in front of him. Tall and skinny. Damn. Keith noticed her bra and underwear were matching. Blue silk. Keith’s mind wasn’t working but another throbbing organ was. His cock was stiff even in the water. Then that one damned thought came into his head. This is cheating. I have a wife weather she has sex with me or not.

Keith swam and sat in the water and relaxed. Grace dried off on shore and didn’t notice Keith had been staring at her. She dressed and called out to Keith it was time to work again. The drive home was Keith picking on Grace that he had won because he threw her in the water. Grace smiled and didn’t answer and let him talk. Grace felt full of joy and happy. Grace almost had the feeling of being in love. Grace cussed at herself. No she can’t love this man. He’s married and way older than her. She pushed the thoughts out of her head.

Grace went inside for some peace and to be away from Keith maybe some time alone will do good for her mind. Keith steady worked and thought about Grace at the creek. Her body..her nicely formed tits. Her nipples were erect through her bra. She had a nice ass on her too…Keith thought to himself. I’m just horny and want sex. Even though he knew he wanted to fuck her. Something about her he liked more than his wife. Not just her body but just the way she was.

Grace cooked dinner inside for about 3 hours. She made pork BBQ, mashed potatoes, sweet tea and even drug out some moonshine. When her daddy came back in he asked about her day and if Keith worked. She replied yes and she had a fine day. She ate first and went up stairs to her room before Keith could get inside to eat. She stood by the window and watched as Keith walked out from the barn putting on his white t shirt. His muscles rippled over his chest. This man was perfection. She promised herself though she wouldn’t fall for a man again for awhile.

Down at the table Keith and Mr. Hale ate dinner and briefly talked. “Keith, my daughter enjoys your company. I can tell. Her eyes sparkle when she talks about you. She needs a good guy to talk to. I think your the guy she needs. That is to talk to.” Mr Hale cut his eyes towards Keith. “Well she’s a very fine young women. I heard about her ex boyfriend. Damn that kid breaking her heart like that.” “Yes I agree with ya Keith”

Keith finished dinner and went home. He got into the shower and the thought of Grace came back. He grew hard. His cock stood tall at 9 inches. He never thought he was small. His wife never complained either when they first had sex. Keith rubbed his cock and thought back to Grace and her silk bra and underwear. He thought about it and rubbed alittle faster. Within minutes he exploded all on the shower floor. He cleaned himself up and walked out the shower. He climbed into bed. The faint distance of the radio in the room played his favorite song “Your Side of The Bed by Little Big Town” How that song described his marriage at this point was unreal. He thought of Grace and he thought of Kate.. “How, how’d you get so far away?

All we have left are the memories of the love we made

Are you sleeping with your own regret?

On your side of the bed” Those lyrics were the last thing Keith heard before he fell asleep dreaming of Grace for he knew the marriage he had with Kate was done with.

Keith got up and drove alittle faster to work this morning. He got to the barn at 5:30. 30 minutes earlier than what he had to be. He wanted to get as much work done as he could before lunch. He started on the cattle milking them. Then swept the stalls. Picked up the small hay bales. Fed the cattle. Then started on some on Grace’s chores. He fed the geese and the fish in the coy pond. Then fed the dogs and started mowing the grass. All before 7 o’clock.

When Grace woke up she heard the lawn mower. That was her chore she looked out her window and Keith was pulling the lawn mower into the barn. He had did all her chores. She quickly got dressed in some cut off jeans that were now shorts. They showed some of her ass but it was supposed to be hot anyway. she pulled on a tank top combed her hair and grabbed her cowgirl hat. She ran outside into the barn and saw Keith.

“Morning Grace. I already did all my chores and yours. I thought maybe we could have some time together to get to know each other better.” Keith asked wanting some alone time with Grace.

“Keith..why thank you! Sure let’s go. I’ll get my horse you can pick yours.”

Keith looked at her as she walked away cut off shorts all the way up to her ass. Showing lots of skin. Her tank top hugged her body and showed some cleavage but not as much as yesterday. He looked down at himself. White t shirt that said Navy and ripped blue jeans. The cowboy type he guessed. He saddled the horse up and rode up to where Grace was.

“Keith?” Grace questioned

“Yes Grace?”

“How old are you?”

“Well you might change your opinion on me being handsome. But if you must know I’m 37.” Keith said with hesitation.

“I’m not changing my opinion. Your still handsome.” Grace smiled at me. We were going back to the creek.

“Grace that surprises me because most young women your age want a young man. Your interested in me..aren’t you?”.

Grace wasn’t going to answer. She was so shocked and felt stupid. What if he didn’t like her back…she thought to herself fuck it. I’m leaving in a few months anyway. “Yes I am. Very interested haha.”

Keith could fell his cock grow alittle in his jeans. “Grace…I’m interested in you too…”

They didn’t talk until they got to the creek. Grace jumped off her horse and tied him to the tree. She sat down and waited for Keith to sit with her. Keith didn’t though. He took off his shirt and hung it on the limb. He undid his belt. Grace could feel herself grow hot. He wanted her. He was going to fuck her.

Keith hung the belt and walked over towards Grace then did a quick bee line for the water and dove in. Grace was confused. He was taunting her. Making her wait. She could play this game too. She undressed her shorts fell off first. Showing off her well sculpted thighs and calves. Next her shirt. She slide the tank top off. She then placed her shorts shoes and tank top right where she knew Keith would come up out of the water at. He did. He saw the clothes.

Keith looked and tried to find Grace. He couldn’t see her in the water ands figured she didn’t get in. So he climbed out. He walked around to the horses she wasn’t there either. He came back to the bank and saw Grace. Bra and underwear again that’s it. It was impossible to hide his hard on now. He wanted her. He knew it and so did she. Grace walked over to Keith and said “If you want to you can.”

Grace bit her bottom lip. Keith stroked her exposed sides leaving goose bumps on her sun kissed sun. His eyes devoured her shirt less state.

His hands found her lower back and forcefully pulled her toward him. Grace put her hands to his chest to catch herself. She enjoyed the feeling of his solidness against her body. He rubbed his hands along Grace and she smiled in enjoyment. Grace loved the way Keith made her feel.

Grace moved her waist into Keith’s crotch in a circular motion. She could feel his manhood grow even more. There tongues danced in each others mouth. She loved how Keith knew what to do. Grace started working on Keiths jeans and got them undone. She pulled down his underwear and what she saw amazed her.

“Grace? You ok? You look like you saw something to big for you to handle.” Keith laughed at his own dirty joke. Just for that the game was on. Instead of putting my mouth on his raging cock I moved my mouth up to his rock stomach. I went up to his neck and gently sucked on his neck. Keith moaned with delight and lust. Grace took Keith cock in her hand and jerked him off. His hands worked on her bra and got it off. Her tits were pressed against his chest. Keith rocked his hips so he’s cock moved faster in Grace’s hand.

The barmaid strutted out from behind the bar, a tray balanced on her dainty hand. Four stout glasses of whiskey were strategically placed on it, forming a diamond. Her breasts, pushed up a ridiculous amount by her corset bounced hypnotically in tandem with her footsteps on the hard saloon floor. More than one eye hungrily devoured her shapely frame as she jiggled to a table with four gunslingers sitting at it. The men blatantly stared at the soft curve of her breasts under her dress, and admired the way her dress flowed across her ample hips and well toned thighs. She paid no mind though. She was used to being the object of many a lonely trail-hand’s affection. She relished it, making all these men ridiculously hard, knowing they would not see a woman of her caliber again in a very long while, if ever. She agitated their condition further by using her feminine wiles to goad them on, and then drift away, leaving them with a throbbing hard-on, and her with an apron full of bills. She expertly distributed the drinks to the cowboys, smiling curtly as they undressed her with their greedy eyes. She deliberately leaned forward, further than a modest woman should, delivering them more than a fair eyeful of her creamy bosom. Her smile widened further upon appraising their awe-fulled lusty expressions.

“Here’s your drinks, boys.” She cooed as she clinked the glasses down upon the old worn table. The smoke from their cigars danced about her, heightening her mysticism, her curves, her femininity. The gunslingers threw their bills upon her tray, a fair tip included. One of them, a particularly foul smelling one, grasped her arm. She could smell the syrupy reek of strong whiskey

on his breath.

“How’s about you and me go somewhere private to…talk?” The man said, revealing a checkerboard grin. His grip tightened and he waved a modest fistful of bills in front of her nose. She shot him a cynical look, one eyebrow cocked.

“I’m no common whore sir…” The barmaid said haughtily, breaking the cowboy’s grip and folding her arms across her chest, accentuating her breasts even more. She pursed her lips and shot him a teasing look. The cowhand leapt from his seat, grabbing her around the waist and drawing her close. He gazed into her emerald green eyes, and attempted to rub a clumsy drunken hand through her curly hair, which was tied up in a no-nonsense manner. It framed her face wonderfully, the cowboy thought, although not as eloquently as it was written here. She slapped his hand away.

“You never had a man like me before!” He drawled, continuing his advances, pawing her breasts. He began to pull up her skirt, in front of all the patrons of the saloon, possibly hoping to rub her sweet thighs, possibly to lay his fumbling hands upon her sweet mound. In a flash, the firey barmaid acted. She slammed her forehead into the cowboy’s crooked nose. A sickening crunch sounded above the saloon’s white noise. Her curls bobbed crazily as the cowboy’s head snapped back, a suprised, pained look in his eyes. Droplets of blood arced through the air, scintillating hypnotically in the dim saloon’s light. She drew back and delivered a hook punch that a prize fighter would have been proud of. It connected soundly with his cheek. Her entire dainty arm vibrated from the impact, and the cowboy spiraled to the dusty wooden floor. The cowboy’s friends stared, mouths agape, not knowing what to think or how to react. A few nearby patrons began to laugh and clap at her antics. A few regulars smiled, knowing that laying their hands on Mickey the barmaid led to disasterous results. Some even bore scars from her reactions to their advances.

“You…bitch!” He gurgled through the hand covering his face, vainly trying to staunch the flow of blood that oozed through his dirty fingers.

“If two hits sends you to the floor, I’m not even going to show you what I can do with this!”

She said as she flirtly lifted her skirts for a brief moment, revealing her frilly undergarments to whoever may be looking. She turned, her smile reaching towards her ears as she gave a polite curtsy to the hooting and hollering patrons of the Diamondback Saloon. The injured man jerkily rose to his feet, his friends still staring blankly at the scene, their minds just grasping the occurances.

“Damn whore! I’ll teach you to mess with Porter!” In the blink of an eye, the gunslinger’s trained hand darted towards his gun. She whipped around, too late to react. She closed her eyes, waiting for the red-hot burning lead to enter her deliciously shaped body. The roar of a .45 filled the tavern, lighting the dim atmosphere with it’s destructive power. The saloon fell silent. She expected to open her eyes to a vision of the afterlife, but instead, she saw the same dirty cowboy, staring at the corner, his gunbelt on the floor, his hand grasping numbly at where his gun should have been holstered. His mouth opened and closed as a fish pulled out of a lake would have been.

“How the…?” The dirty cowboy whispered as he stared blankly at a man, sitting by himself at a table in the back of the saloon.

All eyes were on the rugged stranger in the corner, being that he was clearly the one that performed the deed. The stranger sat, his pistol held in front of him, plumes of smoke lazily dancing from its barrel to the ceiling of the saloon. The stranger’s hat was pulled down across his eyes, looking as if he’s shot blind…but that was impossible right? There’s no way this man could have shot this cowboy’s belt off from 30 paces, even taking great care in aiming! Impossible.

“Oh!” The stranger in the corner spouted in a mockingly condescending tone. “I meant to shoot you in your yellow heart! Pulling leather on a woman, with her back turned. Tsk tsk tsk..” The stranger tipped his hat back with the barrel of his smoking .45, revealing a set of piercing, ice blue eyes. The eyes of a killer. Those eyes were cold, but she could see the sparks mirthfully dancing behind them, the eyes of a man who knows he is a superior specimen. “Must be all the whisky, setting my aim off.” He mused as he cocked the hammer of his big pistol back. It clicked loudly as it set, echoing through the silent tavern seemingly as loudly as the gunshots he fired themselves. He smiled wanly.

“I’ve got 4 shots left.” The stranger said, with a keen smile upon his rugged, trail-worn face. “That’s one for you, and each of your friends’ foreheads.” Mickey the barmaid marvelled at how soft this killer’s voice was. He said each word with a punctual finality, the phrasing of a man who expected to die at any moment. Outwardly, she attempted to keep her tough-girl facade going, but inside, especially on the parts that counted, she longed for this handsome, honorable stranger. “If you cowards do anything but tuck your tails between your legs and ride out of town, the coffin maker is gonna have some work to do. You hear me?” The stranger asked, his voice still retaining that neutral, ‘nice weather we’re having!’ tone. Worldessly, the dirty cowboy and his posse of three gathered their things and silently plodded out of the tavern. The dirty cowboy attempted to retain some of his manhood by shooting the stranger a dirty look, but the dirty cowboy’s eyes unconsciously found the floor very quickly. A moment or two passed, then all that could be heard was the muffled ‘clip-clop’ sound of the quartet leaving town. Whispered coversation broke out, then rose into the normal rabble. The stranger slowly pulled the empty shell casings out of his pistol, reloaded them with fresh cartridges and dropped his weapon back into it’s holster. Mickey the barmaid was none too pleased with this turn of events. She did not like being protected. She was tough, she was rough, she survived this frontier life without relying on some incredibly sexy gunslinger. She stomped up to him, red faced and flustered. The stranger sipped his bourbon, paying her no mind.

“Excuse me!” She hissed, her brow lowered and her tone menacing.

“You’re welcome.” The handsome stranger said, a smirk creeping up the corners of his mouth.

“Ex-c-cuse me?” She stammered. She was taken aback by his cool gaze, and the confidence with which he composed himself.

“I said that you’re welcome. For saving your life.” He swirled the whiskey around his rock glass absentmindedly. His smirk threatened to break into a toothy grin. The barmaid composed herself, and shot him daggers.

“I can take care of myself, sir.” She almost pouted.

“You can dodge bullets, ma’am?” He asked, his piercing gaze finding hers. The blue of his eyes looked about the same as the feeling of jumping into a lake in late September.


“I asked if you were quick enough to dodge bullets. I can see that you are a bonafide cocktease, but can you dodge slugs?” The stranger asked, his gaze never wavering. Her eyes widened.

“I am not a cocktease! I am–”

“Ma’am, with all due respect, you know how beautiful you are, you know how well shaped you are. You flaunt it in front of these lonely boys and are just tickled pink by shooting them down.” His eyes drifted from her eyes to the drastic roundess of her breasts, down even further to her toned legs. It took her a moment, stunned by the fact that this gunslinger called her game so easily.

“It’s not my fault–” She began.

“I know I may be interrupting a bit, but you aren’t answering my question. Can you dodge slugs?” He asked again, softly. She glared at him hotly, defeated.

“I reckon not.”

“Well then I suppose I saved your life then, right?” He tiled his head, his smirk widening into a sly smile.

“I don’t need your help mister. I’ve taken care of myself for a long time now, and I don’t need your assistance!” She growled the last word, making it sound like an insult. She tried to turn, but he held her with his cold gaze, the same smile still pasted on his weathered, lined face. He gave her an interrogative look. His overwhelming confidence seemed to whirl within her abdomen, alighting a fire within. “Ok. Fine.” She said, her proud shoulders slumping. “You win. You saved my life. That cowboy would’ve shot me in my pretty back if you didn’t come along and save the damsel in distress! Is that what you wanted me to say?”


“What then?”

“When do you get off of work?”

“Fifteen minutes.” She said, attempting to put on an indignant face.

“Have a drink with me.” The handsome stranger rumbled said, his cool, smiling eyes never leaving hers.

“After I get off, fine. I’ll be right over.” She found herself smiling, despite her tough act. The handsome stranger grinned at this, seeming satisfied. “What’s your name, stranger?” He looked into his glass of boubon, it’s contents nearly gone. He looked up again, his shooter’s eyes boring into hers, sending yet another chill down her spine.

“Call me Dean.” He smiled.

“Well Dean, I’m Mickey. Pleased to make your acquaintance.” She was horrified that her tough girl act was slipping away, but at the same time, she loved it. She strutted away, waggling her firm rear in a practiced manner as she made her way back to the bar to finish her shift. Dean drained his glass, rolled a cigarette with his leathery hands, and waited.

* * * * * * * * * * *

The barmaid absentmindedly continued on with her shift, stealing glances at Dean every chance she got. She marvelled at how fluidly he moved. Everything he did, he did with the utmost grace and precision. The man did not waste a single motion. She couldn’t help but daydream about how he would use that agility between the covers! She watched as he rolled a cigarette, his fingers dancing across the paper, rolling it into a tight tube, with a flap of paper exposed. He dragged his tongue across the paper, in an excruciatingly slow manner, using his saliva as a makeshift adhesive. She was blatantly staring at him now, either not noticing or not caring about the wetness blooming under her skirt. To her horror, she realized that his captivating eyes were aimed directly at hers. A hot feeling crept into her cheeks as Dean popped his cigarette into his mouth. Only a slight grin graced his strong lips, but his eyes smiled warmly and widely. He nodded towards her hands. She furrowed her brow and cocked her head, showing her misunderstand. His grin split open, revealing a roguish crooked smile. He gestured again, and she finally looked down. She let down a girlish squeal to see that the beer mug she was filling had been overflowing for some time now. She flipped the tap, and cleaned it up, her face as red as a beet. The man laughed heartily. It was a good, soulful sound.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Mickey walked towards Dean’s table, a rock glass in each hand. He grabbed the brim of his hat with two weathered fingers and gave her a gentlemanly nod, his eyes gleaming mirthfully. She slid him one of the glasses. He accepted it with a nod, then leaned back and threw his legs up, propping his spurred boots on the table.

“Thank you kindly ma’am.” He said, repeating the gesture he’d given her a moment earlier.

“Well, it’s the least I could do for the man that saved my life.” She said, attempting to edge her words with venom, but they came out a bit too breathy and sultry for her tastes. Dean took a long pull off of his drink, exhaling his satisfaction as he set the glass down.

“I couldn’t let some mangy cowpoke like that shoot such a pretty little thing such as yourself, now could I?” He said. She opened her mouth, ready to spout some more tough-girl rhetoric, but his cocked eyebrow made her reconsider. She smiled prettily. Mickey felt like such a lady around this handsome stranger, around this true man. She had been with a few men, and rejected the advances of hundreds more, but this one was a MAN, in every sense of the word…well, she could only speculate on a few facets of his manliness, but if things progressed as they were at this rate, she would be well acquainted with them before the night was through.

“No, you couldn’t.” She finally purred. He smiled at this, his gaze never leaving hers. He took the rest of his drink down in one mighty gulp. She responded in kind, draining hers in one gulp, winking slyly at him. His eyebrows raised at this.

“Well. Looks like you can handle your liquor.” He leaned forward. “I wonder if you’ll be able to handle a tall drink of what I have to offer.” He stared at her in a matter-of-fact manner. It was Mickey that raised her eyebrows this time. Without missing a beat, she leaned forward, her thin dress slipping low, revealing more than an eyeful of her milky skin to Dean.

“I can handle more than any one man can dish out, honey.” She crooned, her face beaming with pride. The smile persisted on his face, not at all shaken. She loved how much his brilliant, quick eyes contrasted his lined, dusty face.

“That sounds like a challenge to me ma’am, and if there’s one thing I absolutely love, it’s a good challenge. Enough talk. I have a room across the street, let’s go.”

He reached in the pocket of his duster and drew out a wad of bills, and tossed it on the table. “Well?” He asked, standing up. She didn’t even stop to think twice. She stood just as quickly, her breasts following a second behind, giving a hearty jiggle that caught his eye.

“Let’s.” She said. He walked out of the Diamondback, Mickey following closely behind.

* * * * * * * * * * *

They walked onto the dusty road side by side. Most of the shops were in the midst of closing for the day. The sun was taking its agonizingly slow nightly dip into that space just past the horizon, basking the frontier town in a hot orange-red hue. People tottered this way and that, wearily finishing their daily grind. The gunslinger abruptly wrapped a lean muscled arm around her thing shoulders, drawing her close. She didn’t resist. They walked, and she took in his scent. It was an intoxicating blend of scents. Leather, sweat, the dust of the trail, gunpowder…but the smell of death was most prevalent. This man made his dime killing people, that she could tell. She broke the comfortable silence between them.

“So what do you do…for a living?” She asked. He paused, most likely considering how to answer Mickey’s question.

“You could say…that I’m a freelance law-man.” He said finally, satisfied with his response.

“A bounty hunter?” Her eyes widened.

“That’s one way to say it. I ride into town, take care of the local law’s biggest problems, take my money, and ride on.” He said casually.

“So basically, what you’re saying, is that you come into town, kill notorious bandits and their gangs singlehandedly, collect your money and ride off into the sunset?” She asked in an incredulous manner.

“Kill or capture. Most of ‘em don’t take kindly to the idea of surrender. Most of the time I convince them with lead.” He said this blankly, in the tone of a man who killed for a people for a living, because that is, in fact, what he did. For some odd reason, she found herself incredibly turned on by this. This assassin, this murderer, this MAN, who travelled the dusty roads from town to town killing people, wanted to bed her. Again, the familiar wetness crept down her thighs. Her undergarmets were horribly soaked. The travelling killer, known as Dean, must’ve picked up on this, as he turned to her, and stared deep into her eyes. Grabbing her shoulders, he kissed her deeply and soundlessly. She closed her eyes, and savored his taste, relished in the way their tongues danced and intermingled on the border where their lips connected. She felt so small, so protected under his strong grasp. She was lost in the moment, he was not. His hunter’s instinct and reflexes saved both of their lives. Out of nowhere, his strong gentle hands became iron as he shoved her onto the rough wooden planks of a storefront.

“DOWN!” Dean screamed. Gunfire roared from across the road, and Dean grunted. She felt a few hot droplets of blood fall upon her face. Dean dove, tucking his legs into a roll and drawing his widowmaker. More gunfire barked its deadly song, splintering the wood of the storefront behind them. Townsfolk ran for cover, some screamed. Mickey was one of them. She couldn’t help it, the hornet’s buzz of the slugs flying above her head broke her resolve. She spotted the dirty cowboy from earlier, and his three friends, all of their guns blazing in her and Dean’s direction. The dirty cowboy known as Porter had a triumphantly maniacal look plastered upon his ugly face. Dean completed his roll, mindless of the death being thrown at him. She looked upon Dean then, and is was a sight she would never forget. He drew his revolver, and moved as rapidly as a rattler’s strike as he brought it to bear. His face retained this peaceful expression, this calm, ‘ho-hum’ expression as he threw lead back at them.

POPPOPPOPPOPPOPPOP! His gun roared, and just as suddenly as it had started, the gunfire from across the street stopped. Without a word, Dean stood, opening the drum of his revolver and dumping the spent cartridges on the dusty wooden planks that made up the porch of the town’s general store. He walked toward Porter and his posse’s still bodies, his spurs jingling as he made his way. Mickey drew herself to a sitting position, her jaw bobbing up and down, attempting to find something to say. Nothing came. He reloaded his death-dealer, and stood above Porter. Porter was grasping his gut. He was the only one left alive.

“Please…mister…..” She heard Porter wheeze. Dean leveled his revolved at Porter’s head. Mickey closed her eyes. Dean’s revolved roared once more, and Porter was no more. After a few moments, she felt Dean’s strong hands under her arm.

“C’mon now ma’am…I’m not letting you back down from your little…challenge…” Dean said, smiling. Her eyes were drew to the gunshot wound which had torn through the meat of his upper arm.

I was driving an empty horse trailer down a 4 lane highway, making pretty good time. I eased into the left hand lane because I was slowly overtaking a green convertible up ahead.

I saw the blonde in the passenger seat turn to glance back over her shoulder at me, and that perked my attention a bit. The convertible was a good hundred feet ahead of me, but I could see she was good looking, and she was leaning forward a little. She glanced at me again and smiled, and then she leaned her head down into the drivers lap.

I had been only very slowly overtaking them, but I immediately stomped on the gas to come up alongside quickly. My big Ford F250 sat high enough for me to glance down into their cab, and I could see the blonde’s head bobbing up and down. The driver glanced over at me and grinned, flashing me a thumbs up signal. He put his off hand on the back of the girls head and pulled her head up to look at me.

She smiled wickedly at me- she was young and pretty, with a wide, generous mouth. She was still pumping the drivers cock with her right hand, but I couldn’t quite see down into the cab enough to see the action. After just a moment she dipped her head back down to the task at hand.

The driver made a gesture which obviously meant for us to switch lanes. I checked my mirrors- we were the only vehicles on our side of the road, so I dropped behind to come up behind them as the convertible moved over to the left hand lane.

As I pulled even again, I now had a good look at the blonde’s ass poking up at me, wiggling enticingly. The driver reached over to yank her black shorts down, and after a couple of tugs I had a glimpse of two finely tanned ass cheeks with a pair of puffy cunt lips sticking out at me.

I leaned on the horn in appreciation, and the girl whipped her head up in surprise, looking back at me over her right shoulder. She grinned again, and then returned to work. The driver walked his fingers across her left ass-cheek and found her cunt, running a finger up and down its length before dipping his index finger inside. The girl squirmed against his hand.

Right about then the driver through his head back in pleasure, and I could tell he was coming. She stayed down on him for a long time, obviously sucking him dry. When she finally sat back in her seat, she glanced over at me again, wiping at her mouth daintily with the back of her hand.

I reached up and tipped the brim of my Stetson at her, then gave a quick round of applause.

The driver honked his horn twice then stepped on the gas, and they shot forward, leaving me behind.

I was more than half-erect and horny as hell and was considering my options of stopping up ahead at an upcoming truck stop and looking for a bj from a lot lizard, or rubbing one out by myself, when I noticed the convertible slowing down up ahead.

They moved over into the right lane ahead of me, so I pulled into the left lane and again came up beside them, rolling down the passenger side window.

The driver grinned over at me and yelled into the wind “She wants to suck you off!” I glanced over his head at her, and she was twisting a hand in her blonde hair nervously.

I grinned and yelled back “Hell, yeah!”, and she broke into a smile. We pulled over on the side of the road together, and she hopped out of the convertible and came running back to my truck. She had a dynamite body, lean and athletic, and I could tell at a glance that those tits were store-bought.

She smiled nervously as she climbed up into the cab. “Um…hi, there. I’m Alexis, but my friends call me Alex.”

I held out my hand and introduced myself, feeling a bit silly suddenly. But when her eyes darted down to the bulge in my crotch, the gleam of hunger on her face wiped away all thoughts but getting my dick wet.

She dove down to start fumbling at my fly, and I shifted my hips in the seat to accommodate her. As she fumbled with getting my tool out, she said “Are you a real cowboy?”

I shrugged. “I guess so. I don’t ride a herd of cattle, if that’s what you mean, but I have horses, and I used to rodeo a little.”

I had to gasp as I finished the sentence, because by the time I was halfway done she had my rod halfway down her throat. Now, I like me a good blowjob, and I’ve had more than my share, by pros and amateurs alike, but I had never had one delivered with as much gusto and pure enthusiasm as this one.

I’ve been told my cock is kind of wide, which has offered a challenge to some girls going much past the head, but Alex took me root-deep with ease, and while I was fully sheathed in her throat she moaned. The sensations were remarkable.

After a few trips up and down the length of my cock, she pulled off. “Put some country & western music on.” It took me just a minute to tune my Sirius onto an outlaw country station, and she sucked me hard as Waylon Jennings sang about Hank Williams.

I felt the orgasm coming on strong, and felt like it was the gentlemanly thing to do to warn her, but before I could she pulled off again, her deep blue eyes drilling into mine. “I want to suck every drop of your cum, Cowboy. Fill my mouth up with your load.”

Her lips engulfed me again, and her free hand was tugging at my shaft, and I quickly obliged her with a powerful, shuddering orgasm, so intense my grip on the steering wheel felt like I was about to break it off. I must have come by the gallon, but she never missed a single drop, and she kept sucking and licking until I was limp. She sat back up and grinned.

I tipped my hat again to her. “Ma’am, that was as good as I have ever got, and I do thank you.” I said solemnly.

She giggled. I had a notepad on a mount on my dashboard: she grabbed it and scribbled on the pad. “My hubbie and I are swingers. We live in the Dallas area- if you’re ever interested, give him a call at this number. Bring a friend if you want.”

And with that she was out the door and back into the convertible. They waived again and took off. I looked at the phone number, thinking about how often I drove through Dallas hauling horses in one direction or the other…

I still remember the first time I replied to a gay personals ad online. I was only 18, in the first month of university in a new city away from everyone I had ever known.

Hung looking for younger gay

37yo bwm, masculine, drug and disease free

Looking for someone who likes kissing, sucking, maybe fucking.

I sent him my stats and a face shot taking at an angle extreme enough to hide my identity.

He replied less than five minutes later: “Shooters and cocks, 7pm?”

That’s the name of a gay bar. There wasn’t much time, so I sent a one word reply, took a shower, being extra careful to scrub out my butt crack, just in case. I wanted to smell good for my newfound lover.

I showed up at the bar about a half hour early, only to find it wasn’t open yet. I only touched the knob, gave it a turn to confirm it was locked, and quickly walked along before anyone could notice me.

I waited across the street in a cafe for the place to open. At some point close to 7 I turned my head, actually distracted by a couple girls talking a little too explicitly about their sex lives–who knew they put so much worth in giving guys blowjobs? Like really, what kind of pleasure do they get out of that? When I turned back there was a light on above the door, and it was slightly open.

I went up the block, taking the long way to cross the street, so I could have a full view of the place on my approach.

Right as I put my hand on the knob, I heard a whistle behind me. I turned around to see a cowboy–he was wearing an actual cowboy hat, and he was over 6ft tall, wearing skin-tight jeans and a white T-shirt, and looking me up and down with his preying eyes. Was he some kind of redneck looking to beat up faggots? Scenarios of being outed to everyone back home flashed through my mind.

I almost turned away and hurried off, but I twisted the knob and walked in.

I hurried down the stairs, under the big canopy rainbow flag, and disappeared into the gay bar. It was dark inside, with all the walls and ceiling painted black. There was a big dance floor on one side of the room, a bar on the other side, and booths with tableclothed tables all around the walls. I was the only one in there, other than staff.

I felt like a slut. I also had to go to the bathroom. I asked a beefy guy who looked like a security guard where the washroom was, and went in.

Well, it wasn’t some crazy sex dungeon riddled with glory holes. When I came out, that cowboy was sitting at one of the tables, his arms both stretched out on the back of the booth. His eyes were on me.

I ordered a beer from the bar, and then wandered to a stool nearby.

“Hey!” the cowboy called.

I looked over.

“You merichane?” he asked.

I nodded guiltily.

He waved his head to beckon me over. I came over and sidled into the booth with him.

“Are you gay?” I asked him.

“Nope,” he said dismissively. “Are you?”

“Well, uh,” I replied. I’d never actually answered this question honestly before, “uh, yeah.”

He barely even looked at me. “How do you suck cock?” he asked.

I was a little taken aback.

“Spit or swallow?” he elaborated.

“Oh, uh, swallow.”

He brought his thick bicep down and grabbed my hand. I’d only ever held hands before, with my female grad date in high school. Guess how well that worked out.

His hand was rougher than hers, and he pulled it downwards, under the tablecloth. He cupped my hand over his already semi-hard dick, still encased in his jeans.

But wait, didn’t he say he wasn’t gay? Suddenly, he sat upright. “Get under the table,” he commanded me.

“What? But I–okay,” I capitulated. I slid down, keeping my hand on his hardening cock.

He unzipped his pants and slid them down below his knees. Suddenly, I was pressed up against a man’s thighs. I’m gay, but this was the first time for me. I felt the tip of his weiner touch me on the nose.

He wanted me to suck it, and at the time I felt I had two options: walk away from the homosexual that I thought I was, or do what he said.

I leaned over and gave his cock head a quick kiss. It felt hard and a little wet from precum. Annoyingly, it curved up, which meant I had to lean forward on my knees and place my head right up against the bottom of the table just to launch it into my mouth.

Having that dick in my mouth, that made me feel gay. I was pleasing this man, and it wasn’t a world-ending event.

I began having fun with the shape of a cock in my mouth, moving up and down like my warm, moist cavity was a pussy for this gnarled cowboy cock. But still, it was dick and I was scoring!

I felt like–well, not a man, but I felt like he was the man, and I was his to do with as he pleased. He grabbed both sides of my head and tried to force me down farther until I was gagging.

Then, I heard commotion from outside the safety of my table refuge.

“Hey Randy,” a gruff voice said, as a pair of legs slipped in at the other end of the table.

“How’s it going, buddy?” sakd another voice, as another plump ass seated itself on the opposite side of me.

I was about four inches down on his cock, with the table directly above my head, I dared not move, or I’d bump my head on the table and alert the others that I was there.

I began using my tongue to stimulate my rugged cowboy man, keeping the rest of my mouth over his cock but tight. He started getting into it too, thrusting up into my mouth a bit. Then he started grunting. Then he started shooting ropes of hot cum into my mouth, banging my head on the bottom of the table.

He immediately went limp, and I withdrew. Then I heard a zipper on my left. This was followed by a slapping sound, as he began waving his dick back and forth, slapping it against each thigh.

Okay, I was outed. They knew I was down here. I was paralyzed for a moment, during which I heard the bartender come over and take their order.

The dick waved more, and finally I came to it. This man was fatter than the cowboy, and he had bushier pubic hair, which at first hid the great girth of his huge cock. It had the exact dimensions of a beer can. Hard to fit into my mouth, but I knew the only way out was by sucking this monster to completion.

When he came, it was heavy and it tasted awful. I couldn’t swallow, and instead regurgitated all over his pubes.

He groaned and grunted with satisfaction, and when he was done he stood up. He and my cowboy boyfriend went off to the bathroom. I stayed under the table, pausing to catch my breath, when the third guy called down to me.

“Come out from under there,” he said. “You don’t need to be under there.”

I came up, and met him face to face. He was older than the cowboy, maybe over 40, and he had a big biker beard and a huge beer gut. Definitely the kind of guy I could do better, than, I thought.

“So, how are you?” he asked.

“Uh, okay?” I replied tentatively.

“Good work on taking their two cocks,” he complimented me.

“Thanks,” I replied, blushing visibly. “Uh, do you want me to–”

“No, that’s okay,” he replied. “Come up here and sit with me.

I came out from under the table, looking around to see that the place had filled up somewhat since I went under.

This big, thick man wrapped his arms around me and kissed me very wetly on the forehead. He was chubby, and I could feel his fat fingers probing down my thigh. “You do anal?” he asked.

I didn’t, but I did that night, and maybe that story will have to come at a later time. That man was my first boyfriend, and we were together for two years, during which time he did everything imaginable to both my holes, and a couple other things I never would’ve thought of. Long story short, but sometimes I can still feel his thick semen spraying the inside of my cheek, and I wish I could have one more round with him.

September 2018
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