Rattlesnake Cantina Girl Ch. 01

"Well, you're not a Best Buy bunny, right? You're not into guys who wear blue shirts and sell computers and cameras and stuff, right?"

I laughed. "You're kidding, right?"

"And I guess you're not a badge bunny."

"Nope." I was on pretty sure ground on that one. Policemen didn't do a thing for me.

Ethan looked around theatrically as if to be sure that no one was listening to us. He leaned close and pretended to whisper a confidence in my ear. "At least I could understand it if you were a badge bunny. There's something about a guy with a long nightstick that a girl's just naturally attracted to." He nodded sagely at me as if he'd imparted some serious wisdom instead of a suggestive wisecrack.

I cracked up. Ohmigod -- he had a dirty mind, too! While Ethan smiled at the success of his joke I wondered if he knew what every girl knows - that a man who can make her laugh is halfway there.

"So, I guess you must be a buckle bunny after all," he said reasonably.

"Well, maybe," I said smiling. "A little." I had to give him a little encouragement, right?

Besides, it wasn't as if I'd shared some of my darker desires. The ones that Connor could never satisfy. I had learned in my A.D. (after the divorce) life that I was pretty reluctant to let a guy know the kinds of things I wanted. I didn't think they were really kinky, but in the wake of how intimidated Connor became when I discovered them I had become almost afraid of them. Maybe guys didn't really like to do that kind of stuff. Maybe they'd all be intimidated by how much I thought about sex.

It always seemed like my desires were foremost in my mind, tempting me to turn into a bad girl. They bubbled away merrily just under my everyday thoughts, ready to draw me into trouble. I was always picturing myself screwing every guy I met in every position that I could imagine, as if I had no other reason to exist than as a fuck-toy.

But I'd never cheated on Connor even though for most of our marriage I was in a constant state of need. I longed for every good looking man I met to sweep me off my feet and fuck me that way that Connor never did. It was the combination of my thirst and his unwillingness to even try to slake it that led us to divorce.

And A.D. there had been plenty of opportunities. In the couple of months since the divorce had been finalized it seemed like there were lots of boys who would be willing to screw me. Professors, students, old friends and friends of friends. But my own fears kept me from sleeping with them. What if they were turned off like Connor was? What if my desires intimidated other men like they did my ex husband? I didn't think I could stand that.

I also didn't think I could stand it if I discovered that my thirsty pussy was leading me astray; that its hungers were only a passing fancy. Maybe it was only begging for kinky things because my sex life with Connor was so unsatisfactory.

So in spite of all of the offers, in spite of all of the handsome students and professors around me, in spite of the years of pent up unfilled desires and fighting my high-octane libido, I still hadn't had any A.D. sex. But I knew that it was only a matter of time. I was happy to be free from Connor, and I remained hopeful that the man I gave myself to would take me the places I wanted to go.

Ethan was so damned handsome and confident. He was self-assured but not stand-offish about it. He could make me laugh, he was handsome, and best of all he had a dirty mind. He liked me, too - I could tell by the way that he paid attention to me when I talked. Smitten wasn't a strong enough word.

Of course my wanton side wanted to blab my secrets right away. I went positively squishy between my legs as I imagined whispering in his ear that I'd love it if he'd just spank me and tie me up. That would get his attention! Should I even tell him about my secret longing for a cowboy? My pussy was telling me to scream it at him, but I knew it would be better to approach that stuff slowly. After a quick fuck in the ladies room, maybe?

Oh, God. Why was my libido always trying to assert itself and lure me into trouble? I was always being tempted to follow the longings of my pussy; to let myself be consumed by its constant demands for sex.

As I watched Ethan talking it occurred to me that he had a kind of Tom Cruise look about him. Something around his eyes and in his little-boy grin. I squinted, trying to bring him a little better into focus. Yep. There was definitely a Tom Cruise vibe going on. Older, and with more gray hair. But something about him reminded me of good ol' Tom, who had fucked me hard and often in my dreams. I smiled happily to myself -- the man in front of me really was my dream lover personified.

"I think she's had enough," Ethan said to the waitress, laughing and putting his hand over the top of my glass. I hadn't even noticed her, and I realized that I'd been squinting and smiling way too long.

He laughed, but thankfully didn't ask me what I'd been thinking. He was right. The Goldschlagers had left me a little tipsy and had worked their usual deviltry on my pussy -- I was as horny as hell. I was swaying a little in time to the band, dreamily imagining Ethan sliding himself into me.

The fire between my legs was such a constant in my life that I could barely function sometimes. I had to masturbate often just to keep it in check, so that I could go to class and study and run errands and do the thousand-and-one things that made up the rest of my life. I liked my sensuality and I wouldn't have traded it for the world, but it was a daily struggle to keep the pussy fires from burning me alive.

Ethan drained the last of his beer and stood up. He held his hand out to me and said, "Let's go for a ride."

Ohmigod. Ethan and me in his car? I couldn't believe my luck. His house? Mine? Or maybe a motel where he could mount me for a filly ride. Or even better, maybe he wanted to fuck me in the back seat. Delight blossomed in my pussy and radiated out to my heart. I loved car sex.

B.C. (before Connor) I had done it in the car pretty often. My boyfriend Ray was older than me but not as old as Ethan. He had a job working in a garage and a sweet little wife named Linda. The rat eventually broke off with me so that he could be with her. It's not like I was trying to steal him or anything. I just really loved the urgency of our couplings, the wicked flavor of taking another girl's husband and driving him haywire by fucking him in ways that she never would.

Back then the world of sex was a giddy whirlwind that I was sure would never end. I think maybe my whole marriage I was just trying to recapture those wanton uninhibited times when I felt so alive and needed.

It made me bashful to remember how shameless I had been in those days. One time during a trip through the automatic car wash I had ripped off my shorts, jumped on Ray's big cock and fucked him to a soppy climax before the dry cycle. The look in his eyes made it totally worth it. Another time I had given him a hand job while I slid my pussy up and down his stick shift, and I'm not talking about his cock, either. And there were lots and lots of backseat fucks. Front seat ones too, for that matter.

After Ray left me I resolved to take the bull by the horns. Instead of using my pussy as the litmus test of my lovers I was going to use my head and my heart. That was when I met Connor. He had seemed so strong and capable. He wanted to take care of me, which was an allure I found hard to resist. Our lovemaking was fun but not magic, and I convinced myself that I would love him forever. I married him not knowing how neglected my pussy would come to feel, or how frustrated I would become trying to change him. We were in trouble after a few years. I stayed with him because I was certain that eventually Connor would become the lover I needed. But he never did, and so, over his objections, I filed for divorce.

Now I was right back where I'd been B.C., looking forward to the naughtiness and inevitability of doing it in the car because my new lover couldn't wait until we could get to a bed.

I simpered and blushed and put my hand demurely in Ethan's so that he could help me to my feet. I could feel my heart racing, pounding as hard as it would be if he was already thrusting himself inside me. I was finally going to have my first A.D. sex, and it was going to be intense and rushed in the back seat of a car the way that all really hot love affairs should begin. I was flustered with the thought. Ethan gently pulled me to my feet and led me away.

I was so wrapped up in anticipation that I didn't notice at first that he wasn't leading me to the door. Dammit. Once again my neglected slit had led me to abandon rational explanations. It insisted on feeding my libido pictures of back seats and big cocks and dripping pussies. I was chagrined when I realized that instead of pulling me to his car and a hard fuck Ethan was leading us over to the mechanical bull.

I giggled at how my lust had tricked me again, which made Ethan smile. He asked me what I was giggling at, and I told him nothing. As we got near the corner of the bar where the bull was Ethan asked if I'd ever ridden one, and I confessed that I hadn't.

"But I'm always ready for a good ride," I giggled. I knew that his dirty mind wouldn't miss the offer. Ethan put his arm around me, with his hand on my waist. I snuggled into him, loving the lanky-as-a-whip feel of his body.

There was an inflatable cushion all around the bull for thrown riders to fall on. And around that there was a wooden fence that resembled a miniature corral. The metal sign attached to the fence said that the bull was Tornado, and that he was the 'Meanest, buckingest bull this side of the Pecos.' We got in the short line to wait our turn, and swayed gently together to the music from the band while we watched the would-be cowboys trying to prove their studliness.

To further the illusion that he was real they had covered Tornado in brown and white cowhide. He even had fake horns and a mean look in his eye. Tornado was rocking wildly in all directions and now that I was closer, I was kind of intimidated when I saw the poor would-be cowboy trying to hold on fly off and land in a heap on the floor.

Everybody laughed, even Ethan, so I guess it was all right. The guy jumped to his feet, trying to look like he'd meant to fall off. Probably an accountant, in spite of his western clothes.

While I was tucked under Ethan's arm I glanced up at him. I pretended not to notice that he'd been looking down my shirt but I was secretly pleased. I'd had nice tits since I was sixteen; perfect firm handfuls that loved to be squeezed. When he wasn't looking I managed to surreptitiously undo the next button on my shirt so that next time he would have a better look. A whole bunch of would-be cowboys might get a cheap thrill if my breasts got bucked out of my shirt by ol' Tornado, but I didn't care. I felt sexy and I wanted Ethan to be able to appreciate them. To appreciate me.

The next guy up was Bobby, the boy who had nibbled my lips and made me giggle. He looked a little wobbly on his feet, and for a second it looked like he was going to fall off before he even got on. I felt kind of bad, wondering if he'd still be sober if I hadn't abandoned him on the dance floor.

Once he was settled on Tornado he looked around to tell the guy to start it up. Just before the mechanical bull rumbled to life Bobby spotted us by the fence. He grinned straight at us, gave us a hurried 'thumbs up,' and then grabbed on tight. Obviously he was trying to tell me that this ride was for me, to prove that he was so studly I should dump Ethan and run off with him. As if.

His plan didn't work, though. He held on with one hand and waved his other above his head, just like the guys who ride real bulls. But he was thrown pretty quickly, and the little crowd around Tornado laughed good-naturedly as he picked himself up and dusted himself off.

Ethan yelled, "Better luck next time, pardner!" and Bobby grinned and waved at him and walked off to his friends who had been watching.

The next guy had better luck. He held on for a long time as Tornado bucked harder and harder. It looked pretty scary to me but he managed to stay on for the whole ride and everybody clapped and cheered.

Then it was our turn. Ethan paid the guy and talked to him for a minute while I wandered over to Tornado. Up close he was even bigger than I'd thought. I was wondering how to climb up when Ethan came over and gallantly boosted me up. I loved the feel of his hands around my waist, and I couldn't help wondering if he'd put his hands there when he fucked me. I spread my legs wide and settled onto Tornado.

I was surprised when Ethan climbed up behind me, because I'd only seen people riding individually before. Not that I was objecting. He settled himself snugly against me like two lovers spooning and put his hands on my waist. I couldn't have cared less about riding the bull, I just loved being nestled against Ethan. He nodded at the guy to turn Tornado on.

Obviously Ethan had told the guy to go easy on us because Tornado's gentle undulations were nothing like the rough bucking he gave the other riders. We slipped forward and back and around in lazy circles, movement that was sensual rather than abrupt.

Ethan put his arms around me, pretending to help me stay on top of the not so bucking bull. His fingers splayed on my tummy between the top of my jeans and my breasts. I held on to his well-muscled arm, not allowing him to let go of me even if he wanted to. He pulled me even closer and I closed my eyes and shuddered in delight as I snuggled against him.

Every time Tornado dipped we would slide forward a little bit, causing a delicious hard tug on my pussy lips. And then when Tornado went back the other way I would slide deeper into Ethan's grasp. The sensation was exquisite. Almost immediately my breathing got deep, and it seemed that no matter which way Tornado moved I couldn't wait for him to go the other way -- forward to cause that delicious pull on my wet slit, or backward into Ethan's warm arms. I wanted them both at the same time and the tease was driving me crazy.

I was in some kind of innocent erotic heaven. In front of the fake cowboys and barmaids and anyone else who cared to watch I sat on the mechanical bull, my legs spread wide while I creamed my panties, snuggling in the arms of my lanky cowboy. Oh, God.

Ethan snuggled contentedly against me and to my delight I could feel him getting hard, his cock pressing insistently against me. It seemed that he liked having me in his arms as much as I liked being there. I had practically melted against him, and every time Tornado leaned forward my pussy got tugged and a little gasp of delight escaped my lips. As we were gently rocked back and forth Ethan pushed my hair away from my ear and whispered, "Does this count as a good ride?"

I wiggled against him and made a yummy sound to let him know that there was no place I'd rather be. He began gently nibbling on my throat with his lips, sending delectable shivers all through me and causing good-natured cheers from the spectators. The shivers, the booze, my pussy getting the attention it was always clamoring for, Ethan's well-corded arms around me, a big insistent cock that was only a few layers of material away - all worked together in divine concert to send me into a world of my own, an erotic haze that pushed the rest of the world away.

All too soon it was over as Tornado slowed and stopped.

Ethan dismounted and I was really glad when he helped me down. My legs were all quivery and if he hadn't been there to lean on I would have fallen. The little crowd clapped and whistled for our show of talented bull riding, throwing in a few good natured 'get a room' comments.

Ethan took my hand and started leading us to the door. Fuck me now, my pussy said. Fuck me hard and fast. Of course I wanted to let it have its way, right there on the floor of the Rattlesnake Cantina, but with Ethan pulling me on my shaky legs through the bar it was just too hard.

"You need some fresh air, don't you?" he asked in a tone that suggested that he knew the answer better than I did.

He gathered me under his arm and we nestled together and walked out of the bar and into the parking lot. I loved being snuggled against his side, the feel of his crisp plaid shirt, the masculine scent of his after-shave. My pussy had reached a plateau of gushiness, secure in the knowledge that soon Ethan's big cock was going to plunder it silly.

Ethan stopped us in a puddle of dark between the rows of cars. The lights and noise of the bar were distant and unreal. I knew what he wanted. He couldn't wait one second more to taste me, and I was so ready for that first kiss.

"Well, Miss Shelley. I have to be gettin' on home now," he said in an exaggerated John Wayne accent. He brushed my hair back gently and I shivered from his touch.

"But I'd be much obliged if I could call on you tomorrow." He dropped the cowboy accent so that I'd know that he was serious, and he looked deep into my eyes while he waited for an answer.

I was stunned. My pussy wasn't as smart as I was, though, and it continued to purr and trickle fuck-me-now cum into my panties. I knew what Ethan was saying even though my pussy hadn't figured it out yet -- this was adios. There was to be no fucking tonight.

I bit my tongue and tried not to scream 'why?' at him. Why not now? Why don't you want to fuck me? God, didn't he feel every fiber of my body calling him? How could he be so dense? I was his. All he had to do was pull me to his car and he could do anything he wanted to me. Anything. Disappointment threatened to submerge me, to drown me like a kitten in a gunny sack thrown into the river.

I nodded, unable to trust my voice. I felt like a little girl after her spanking trying to deal with the disappointment of being punished and at the same time trying to be brave for daddy. Ethan looked in my eyes for a moment and nodded back at me, sealing our pact to see each other again. Then he kissed me on the forehead.

Maybe I could change his mind. I'm not without feminine skills, and if ever there was a time to use them, this was it. I put my hand behind his head and pulled his lips to mine. My pussy spasmed as our lips touched, a quiet appeal for sex, for a big cock and a good cum. But Ethan drew back after a quick kiss. He held my shoulders in his arms, staring at me like he did in the bar, sending shivers down my spine as he read my soul with his gold eyes.

He ran his hands lightly down my arms, teasing me with his touch. His hands ended up around my wrists and he tightened his grip, tight enough to hurt. Forcefully he pushed my hands behind me and held them together as if they were cuffed behind my back.

For that first kiss I had kept my hand up like I always did, resting on Ethan's chest. That way if he got too frisky too quickly I could push him away. A girl's got to be careful, you know? But with my hands pinned behind me that option was gone and somehow that caused my breath to quicken, my mind to explode. My nipples poked into Ethan's chest and I tried hard not to rub them up and down on him. A girl's got to at least try to show some restraint, right?

But there was no denying the effect that restraining my hands had on my pussy. I'd drooled enough juice into my panties that it was a wonder they hadn't dissolved like cotton candy in a glass of Mountain Dew. My knees were shaking as he leaned forward to give me a real kiss.

His lips were demanding and confident, a bellows blowing straight into the flames inside me. He stoked them, intensified them until I couldn't stand it any longer. I was burning up from the inside, and Ethan used our kiss as a sizzling conduit to draw the blaze from me into him. I shared it with him gratefully, gladly.