My Heroes Have Always Been Cowboys, Part 4 of 6

Read part 1, part 2, and  part 3 of this story.

I thrust back against him, wanting to feel him come inside me. He picked up the pace. Bucking against me, he rode us both to a world-class orgasm.

Little tremors wracked my body after we finished “ I was grateful for the support of the trailer; I wasn’t sure my legs would hold me if I tried to stand up. He stayed with me, stroking me as I caught my breath. While I tried to recover from the best sex of my life, the stray thought that I now knew how his hands felt on my body made me laugh quietly.

He slipped from my body and turned me around. Brushing my hair aside, he peered down into my face. “You laughing or crying, City Girl?

I met his questioning gaze. “Not crying, Cowboy, just amused. I had wondered what it would feel like to have your hands on me ¦ now I know.

He reached down to straighten my clothes. “Good. He managed to get my panties and jeans more or less into place. Holding me in his arms, he looked down at me. “No regrets?

I smiled up at him and kissed him. “Not one. My only problem is that I’d like to get out of here, but I think my knees will buckle if I try to walk.

At that, he grinned “ all self-satisfied male, which, I’ll admit, he had a right to be “ and swept me into his arms. Missy whickered at him, as if to protest being left behind. “I’ll be back for you later, he said to her as he moved away.

He carried me to his pickup, managed a neat one-handed door opening maneuver and deposited me on the bench seat. He walked around to the driver’s side and got in. After he started the truck, he regarded me a little curiously. “Don’t you want to know where we’re going?

I thought about that one. All my life I’d been taught not to go off with strangers, to be careful and to watch my back. Despite all of those warnings, going with Cowboy felt more right to me than anything I’d ever done.

I looked back at him. “No, I’m going wherever you’re going. I trust you.

He leaned over to kiss my cheek, put the truck in gear and then drove away from the rodeo. Though it was late, I felt languorous rather than sleepy and was content just to look out the window. Fifteen or so minutes later, he pulled up at a small ranch-style house and parked.

I looked at the tidy, though worn, little house and neat yard. “You live here?

“No, he replied. “It belongs to a friend of mine. It beats sleeping in a horse trailer.

I was a little apprehensive all of a sudden. “They won’t mind if you bring a stranger into their home? A mean thought trespassed in my head. “Unless maybe they’re used to it?

He pulled me close and wrapped his arms around me. “First of all, they are away and I’m looking after the place. He rubbed his cheek against my hair. “And second, even if they were here they couldn’t be used to me bringing someone into their home because I never have.

I immediately felt contrite. Cowboy radiated sincerity. He was no hound dog and I was no slut. What had happened between us, though fast, was as real and as honest as it got.

I lifted my cheek to his. “Sorry. Just a little flash of doubt there. It won’t happen again.

“See that it doesn’t, he lectured with mock severity. “Come on, let’s get inside. They have air-conditioning and a big, decadent shower.

I was skeptical as we approached the house. “A big, decadent shower in this place? For real?

“Yep, he replied as he opened the front door. “They did a little remodeling last year and my buddy’s wife insisted on a spanking-new bathroom “ the kind with a fancy garden tub and double shower heads.

The interior of the house was deliciously cool. Cowboy turned on a few lights and showed me through the little house, ending in the master bedroom. Not bothering with more lights, he took me in his arms and kissed me.

“Aren’t you going to show me that fancy shower? I think we could both use a rinse-off, don’t you?

He answered in between kissing and nibbling on my neck. “I think you smell, and taste, delicious. I guess I could scrub some horse smell off of myself, though. Would you like to help?

His kisses had me weak-kneed all over again; a shower with him sounded like a wonderful idea. I would have agreed to anything “

“I thought you’d never ask, I whispered and began tugging his shirt. When I managed to get it all the way out of his jeans, I pulled the snaps apart with one hard yank. He looked so surprised that I had to laugh. “What’s the matter? Didn’t it occur to you that I wanted to look at you? You’re beautiful, you know. Lean, flat-bellied and well-muscled, he was a perfect representation of masculine beauty, at least to me. I ran my hands over his chest and up to his wide shoulders, eager to explore him.

He snorted a laugh at me. “Men aren’t beautiful, especially ones who are all scarred up like me.

My searching hands had found some of those scars. I’d never felt scars on a man’s body before. My hands lingered on them. “Do they hurt?

“Not any more. He pushed my hands away. “It’s my turn.

This time his hands were gentle. He untied my blouse and slowly unbuttoned it from the bottom. He didn’t pull it open but slipped his calloused hands inside; an erotic counterpoint to the softness of my breasts. He explored and caressed, never greedy, never grabbing. I thought I would faint from pleasure. Finally, when my nipples were rock hard, he lowered his mouth to them. Continuing this drawn-out torture, he sucked one nipple through my shirt. I was wild “ I wanted his mouth on my bare flesh.

I pulled at his hair and he stopped long enough to make soft shushing sounds at me. He moved his face to between my breasts and nuzzled me there. Finally “ flesh on flesh. I moaned with pleasure as he moved nudged aside my shirt and licked his way to my other nipple. After a minute or two, his soft sucking turned greedy and demanding. My body responded to his handling of my breasts in a way that it never before had “ with an orgasm.

to be continued …

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