Lucky Horse Shoes

"You are a beautiful creature," he said, pushing my hair back and kissing my forehead.

"Thank you," I smiled, letting the complement go straight to my heart. "I've wanted you since you got out of your truck."

"Yeah," he chuckled. "Christina said something like that." A spike of terror suspended the moment; I remembered our less than subtle conversation.

"What did she tell you?" I asked sarcastically, hopefully hiding the touch of true terror. I vowed to kill her later.

"Oh, it wasn't bad." A small sweet kiss began to relax me. "I don't think, we'd be here today if she hadn't assured me that you'd say yes." He had a point. Maybe I'd thank her after I killed her. "I want you to know, I'm not in the habit of asking out clients."

"I'm glad you did," I said, suddenly shy. I stepped closer and burrowed into his chest, knowing I'd blush if he looked at me like that any longer. Plus, I wanted to rub the hard-on I hoped was forming inside those well-fitting jeans: to see if his body was as anxious as mine.

I loved Kurt's height. His two-arm hug was even more consuming than I might have imagined. And there, under my ribs, I felt his heat. I wanted to touch it, to grab it, to stuff it into my mouth.

I am not a short woman, but we weren't lining up. I stepped round my right foot so I could grind into his leg. Warm rivers of joy pulsed up from my clit. Up on one tip-toe, I curled my other leg around him, rubbing him into my needy inner thigh.

I always say that few feelings are better than sore, stressed muscles from riding too hard. But this: my weary leg bearing down on his hard flexed thigh, shot way to the top of my list.

Uncontrollably, my hips bucked up against him. I resisted the puppy-like urge to start humping his leg. My pussy ached ferociously. We were animals, but there was a dance to be done.

I rubbed my cheek on his pecks. Even through his shirt, I could tell he had a great body. I sucked in my stomach as his hands began to explore my mine. Over my breasts, it was much, too much. Tracing the dip in my waist and finally pulling me forward, cupping my butt.

Ooooh, just right there, ran my thoughts as his middle finger traced the horizontal crease under my ass. I trembled at his nearness. Oh, those hands.

In the dressing room I had imagined him palming my breast, and here he was, with room to spare in his handful of cheek. I felt his lips, nuzzling my hair. My mouth was just as eager.

I opened my eyes, and scanned the ground, hoping to find something to stand on. "I need to kiss you," I explained my retreat.

"Hold that thought," he whispered and walked to Cashmere's side. I took off my chaps and retucked my shirt. Kurt plopped his hat on the saddle horn and my heart fluttered: seeing a cowboy's hair is like a big secret. He might as well stripped naked given my body's intimate reaction.

He pulled a wool blanket out of the pack, spread it on slightly inclined ground, and sat down in the middle. It was a small throw, like something you'd cover your lap with at a football game. It gave me no choice but to nestle between his legs, not that I was complaining at all.

His hands lifted my chin and we kissed straight on. I completely relaxed and allowed him to position me. He turned my hips toward him.

This I can handle, I thought, licking my lips. I put my arm around his neck and straddled his lap. Without even a peck, he came at me with open lips and a probing tongue. I sucked him in with a passionate kiss. He was strong, yet relaxed, as he'd been all along.

Confidently exploring, he penetrated deep into my mouth. We made out for an hour, like two teenagers: groping and grinding through clothes. My body was pining, but I was thrilled to know this wasn't to be a quick in and out.

My lips searched his face for what he like best, from tender kisses on his eyelids to open-mouth bites on his neck. I found my reserved spot, licked it and nibbled his ear. I loved the way he purred my name, "Rebecca," he moaned, low and soft.

"Yes, baby?" I pulled back just an inch.

"Oh, Rebecca," long breath. "I want you so bad."

Words failed me, but my body was ready. I threw my arms around him, a full impact embrace knowing the clothing wouldn't be there for long.

I started to unbutton my green collared shirt, but Kurt didn't let me finish. After only three buttons, he slid his hand in, under my bra and squeezed my tit roughly. "Oh yes," I moaned, as he turned me backwards and pulled me toward him again. "Just like that." I said and I meant it.

There is nothing more trying than a wimpy massage, and I feel the same way about a man who's afraid of breasts. I like pressure, desire: that good, hungry pain. Like scratching a bug bite, a needed release that just makes you want more.

He ground his chin in my shoulder, kneading my breast and my petrified nipple. "You have an incredible body" he whispered; he knew just what to say.

"Thank you," I said but it didn't do justice. I pulled his other arm under mine and brought his left hand to my lips. I circled his index finger with my tongue and sucked it in with one slurp.

A little preview, I though eagerly. I love to give head, and knew I was in for a treat by the way his FINGER reached my throat.

His free hand moved from my breast to my lower abs. Kurt pulled me into him sandwiching his eager cock between my ass cheeks. I was torn: wanting both to rock my hips forward to rub his shaft through my crack and to roll them under and beckon his hand to my cunt.

I decided on neither and finished unbuttoning my shirt. I removed it, my bra, and my belt.

"Oh, gorgeous," he moaned and attempted to draw one breast to his mouth. I wiggled away and switched my attention to his jeans. His buckle was well-worn but certified a calf-roping win from 1987. I pried it open, undid his top button and witnessed his huge maroon cockhead struggling to escape the top of his briefs.

A shiny dot of pre-come moistened the tip and I went right for it. Kurt undid the zipper, lifted his hips to slide his jeans and underwear down, and closed his eyes in blissful anticipation.

I had to lie down since he was sitting on the ground, but my exposed breasts felt great against his toasty thighs. A thin coat of dark hair tickled my nipples and opened a direct line of communication from my chest to my clit.

I started out slowly, kissing the inside of his thighs and rubbing my cheeks, lips and then tongue over his throbbing, eight-inch rod. He had his hands in my hair but offered no direction. I hoped that meant he was enjoying the tease.

With a here-goes-nothing burst of ambition, I opened up and swallowed as much of that magnificent cock as possible. I wrapped my hand around the smooth skin of the remaining quarter, and heard appreciative gasps as I began to suck.

I swirled my tongue for moisture and then focused on the perfect seal. On each thrust I coaxed myself to take more. But Kurt was thick as well as long; I started to have doubts if even my pussy could hold him. She was, however, insistently reminding me of how very eager she was to try.

I paused and swallowed, gripping his cock even tighter. My mouth was so full, but I had to keep going.

Even without a graze of direct stimulation below the waist, I began to feel the warmth pooling and little skipping-stone ripples radiating outward.

Kurt scooped my hair off my glistening neck and gave it a little tug as he pulled me up slightly. Nerve endings cried out, goose bumps formed, and an incredible crash of cold struck my sweat.

Resting heavy palms on my head, Kurt then pressed me to take just a little more length.

Deep-throating a man is so erotic. Losing your breath can be scary, but in my mind it's a sacrifice: like, "I want you so bad, I'd give up air for you."

I lifted my weight off my elbows, relaxed my arms around his waist and allowed gravity to help him penetrate my throat.

"Rebecca," cracked his voice as I came down again, "I'm going. . ." but I knew it was too late. I had felt his cock grow, and his driving moves stutter. All at once my mouth filled with glorious cum: salty and sweet, sticky and thick. I swallowed it down as I felt another shot explode into my throat.

"Ah, aahhhh," came a guttural groan and Kurt lay back on the exposed ground, motionless. With one last slow suck, I backed off his lap and traced my hands down his thighs.

I snuggled up beside him and was shocked to notice a very pained look on his face.

"You okay?" I asked. No answer. For a second, I panicked, had I hurt him? What was wrong? Slowly he opened his eyes.

"That. . ." he said, "was hands down," he took another deep breath. ". . .the best blow job of my entire life." Thank god; I smiled. "I'm glad you enjoyed it."

"That," he said, wrapping an arm around me, "Is an understatement." He closed his eyes again.

It's funny how making your man cum can alleviate some of your pent-up frustration. For a time I was perfectly content to lay next to him with my arm across his chest.

But, notice I said some. After a while, my hand took its turn venturing into a shirt. I began to stroke his fine hair when my palm felt his erect nipple. That was the end of relaxed. I sat up, peeled his shirt back, and went to his chest like a deer to salt.

"Oh no, Missy," he said, although I could tell he was still a little groggy. "You've had your fun." He sat up. "Now I've got a little something for you."

I giggled and pushed him back down. "Having a good time, I see," he said teasing. "But I don't think this has been quite fair." Before I could react, he sat up, easily reversed our position and was stripping off his shirt as he straddled me. "I'm the one with the nipple fetish." He said and pinched one of mine for added emphasis.

I gazed at his completely naked body: flat stomach, broad chest, well-muscled arms and legs, and that semi-rigid cock which promised to be on duty again soon. Kurt leaned down to my chest and my breasts reached up for him. He licked, then nipped, twisted, then pulled, and finally pushed down on the electrified buds, driving them deep into my aching breasts.

He alternated one then the other, and finally smashed both tits together. His left hand spread across them, pinky on one nipple and thumb on the other. It was not a tough stretch and I felt that he could have lifted me off the ground that way had he wanted to.

Instead his right hand pushed down on my other sensitive mound and a naughty finger probed through my jeans as if gripping for a different way to raise me. I bucked like a bronc and his hand beat mine to the button on my jeans.

"Nice," he said, snapping the elastic of my new black bikini's. Score one for Saturday's shopping. Then an awkward moment passed as he realized I was still wearing my boots. They weren't slip-ons, but ropers with laces up my ankles.

He scooted down to untie them and for the first time I wondered if anyone might be around to see us.

"You don't think we'll get caught," I teased.

"Nah," Kurt said, pulling one boot off. "Cash is on the look out. He'll whinny to warn us if anyone shows up." Sliding up and kissing me on the lips, "We're out pretty far," he said softly, reassuring.

He went for another kiss, and I tapped my other foot, clearing my throat. My hormones and the day's delicious success were making me feel both funny and bold.

"Be sure to kiss it when you get the sock off." I poked him in the ribs with my other toe.

"Of course, your highness" he said and tickled the arch. I slid down my jeans and panties.

A light breeze blew and I drew up my knees, all of a sudden feeling very exposed. But Kurt sat down, wrapped his arms around me, and kissed my cheek. I was perfect again.

"Do you have something?" I asked. Famous last words.

"Shh," he said and put a finger to my lips. My self-control had almost returned when a finger from his other hand reached around my left side, slid through my wet labia and landed smack dab on my clitoris.

"Oh, god," was all I could say as he began to jiggle it. A poignant shutter whipped through my body.

It was like every nerve had been twisted: immediately calling out for release and yet enjoying the stretch at the same time. Teasingly, the finger circled my hot, gaping hole, stroking the satiny skin. Then directly, it returned to my most sensitive spot.

His right hand lowered, curved around under my thigh to meet his left between my legs. His body surrounded mine in an engulfing embrace. A different finger penetrated my pussy, each knuckle provoking a surge of pleasure, while the first continued to pulse away at my clit.

Kurt thrust with a deliberate cadence and then, without warning or rhythmic relent, he increased my fill to two fingers.

"You feel great," he whispered, the lusty reverberations tickled every little hair in my ear.

"No," I replied, "YOU feel great!" He continued the exquisite finger-fuck with one hand, all the while polishing my clit with the amble secretions supplied by my slippery womb. My hips bucked up to his hands, increasing sensations with force. No effort was necessary for him to remain solid as my shoulders pressed back against his incredible chest.

His aura was intoxicating: powerful, so masculine. I felt a slit-second, pre-orgasmic hesitation and greedily longed for his cock despite the all-to-effective work of his hands.

"God, yes," I mumbled. "Oh, fuck me." I tilted my head to the side and lightly took hold of his shapely bicep with my teeth. "Mmmm," I bit down a little and fought an animal urge to shake my head ferociously. I didn't want to shock him; I paused for a reaction.

Kurt responded with an open mouth kiss on the elongated side of my neck, ending with a reciprocating little nip. "Mmmm," I moaned again and chuckled briefly at the thought of two horses, mutually grooming each other's withers with their teeth.

I knew it was kinky, but I needed the bite. He was massaging my clitoris between his thumb and forefinger as if rolling a ball of clay into a perfect smooth sphere. I had to transfer some of the intensity building inside me. Just kissing his arm was not going to do it.

I reached back and clenched his thighs, unable to grab that delectable ass. His penetrating hand continued its vibrating dance, tickling the engorged walls of my hot throbbing pussy.

The previously hollow aching had finally been replaced with violent rush. After what felt like thirty seconds, I was ready to cum. How did he know exactly how to touch me?

With that thought, a brilliant explosion. Warm radiation saturated my limbs as spasms of euphoria pulsed out of my cunt. Orgasm. . . orgasm. I knew the meaning of the word.

We were in the middle of nowhere but my hand flew to my lips to stifle the shrill expression of lust I felt sure would release. But no sound escaped, every live neuron focused on the sensation of touch: on the powerful arms around me, the unmistakable impression of his rejuvenated erection in the small of my back, his soft lips on my throat in contrast to the slight scratchy stubble of his chin kneading into the junction of my shoulder and neck, and those hands . . . oh those hands: deftly robust, perfect in action.

Kurt's ministration continued as I gasped for a breath. "Thatta girl," he whispered huskily and I shivered with that recognition of familiar soothing horse talk. I snuggled into his arms, muscles relaxing, and looked up into his eyes. He met me with a kiss.

After my passionate gaze of appreciation was acknowledged with a my-pleasure smile, I closed my eyes. I could die happy now. Slowly he withdrew his hands, wrapped them around my waist and pulled me tight into his lap. His silky wet fingers wiped my juice on my sides and settled contently supporting my breasts.

The Colorado wind blew, and although I could have lain there all day, I was aware it was chilly. Neither of us said anything, but I could see the goose bumps on his arm wrapped around me. Without the frenzied heat of the moment, it wasn't really the weather for lounging around naked.

"Go ahead and put your shirt on," I said.

"Don't go anywhere," he replied.

"I won't." I said. He had no idea of all the silly, sappy girl thoughts going through my head.

After I dressed, I went to find Laney and realized for the first time what a truly beautiful spot we were in. The lime green valley was just coming to life and the crystal clear sky was light blue.

I smiled at Laney, as if spilling the details to a trusted friend. We walked back to the spot to find Kurt digging a deli out of his left saddle bag.

"Impressive," I said when he withdrew a bottle of wine. He beckoned me to the blanket, and like a little boy with a good Christmas present, he opened a narrow white box from See's. "I have died and gone to heaven," I said, referring to more than the chocolate. We ate, we giggled, we kissed.

Laying back in his arms, I had absolutely no idea what time it was when he shifted his weight and woke me from a tiny cat nap.

"Ready to go?" he asked and touched his lips to my forehead. I loved how he punctuated conversation with little pecks.

I shrugged my shoulders and smiled, "Sure," wanting to be agreeable and easy-going. We repacked the stuff and adjusted the horses' tack. He put his hat back on; I buckled my chaps and bent down to zip them.

"Those are pretty sexy, you know." I smiled. I did know, but I played innocent.

"Does someone have another fetish I should be aware of?" I taunted. Kurt looked puzzled.

"Which of my many did I tell you about?" Rather than answer, I reached over and tried to tweak his nipple through his shirt.

"You missed big time, Babe" he flaunted. "But I know just were yours are." I looked down, sure enough, perky and perky, standing at attention. I stepped back just in time to avoid his grabby hand.

I dodged behind Laney. Kurt followed me in hot pursuit. "Hey!" I shouted, teasing. "Don't spook the horses!"

"Oh, you're in trouble now." He threatened. I knew I was, and I couldn't wait. I made an animated display of running away from him. When he got closer, I turned around and shielded my breasts with outstretched arms and pinching fingers. He walked past my hands, grabbed me around the waist, and lifted me off the ground.

"Tell me the truth now." He swatted my butt, playfully. "Have you ever done the deed in these bad boys?" He hoisted the leather on the back of my thighs: a tempting wedgie. I was getting wet again.

"Hey now," I slapped his ass back. "Look who's talking, BAD boy!"

"Shit," he laughed. "I think I'm a lot closer to dirty old man."

"Shut-up," I snapped; I loved kidding around. "How old could you possibly be?"

"Thirty-nine in May." I filed that away. "But you make me feel like I'm nineteen again." He set me down and kissed me.

"Well," I said, sarcastically snotty. "I'm not nineteen. I am twenty-six, thank you. I'm wise and worldly and very experienced." He raised his eyebrows, smiling.

"So you have gone the leather, whips, and spurs route."

"I have not," I pouted. "I only like sex in the missionary position." We both started laughing.

"I've got a mark on my arm that says otherwise." I shrugged coyly.

"Sorry about that."

"My little vampire." I laughed. I would be his little whatever-he-wanted-me-to-be.

He wrapped his arms around me and faked a bite at my neck. I collapsed my knees and flopped down onto his arms, pretending to try to get away, when really I wanted him to hold me forever.

It was amazing how he made me, 26 and 5'8," feel young and petite. I liked it. I wanted him to take care of me, to protect me, and oh yeah, I was horny again, to fuck me senseless.

Kurt took a couple of steps, carrying me slung over his crossed arms, swinging between his legs. Put my feet down and stood up, lined his body with mine as he was still hunched forward. Up on my tip-toes I rubbed my ass into the top of his thighs. I wanted to feel his cock so bad.