tagErotic CouplingsRattlesnake Cantina Girl Ch. 02

Rattlesnake Cantina Girl Ch. 02

byrockandroller©

Saturday night – date night in the mountains

"And you didn't go home with him?"

I had to laugh. Eva's like the bestest friend that a girl could ever have. She took me in after I left Connor and we'd become even closer. She was always looking out for me, and according to her the best thing for me would be a studly man to screw me silly the way that my ex never could.

"Nope." I laughed again. "What kind of girl do you think I am, anyhow?"

Of course Eva knows exactly what kind of girl I am, but I think I've managed to hide from her just how overwhelming my desires can be. As good a friend as she is, I'm pretty certain that her pussy doesn't push her around like mine does me.

For example, I'd had to run to my room and play with myself as soon as I'd gotten home last night. My pussy demanded it, and I was her willing ally. After all, I had promised her that I'd try to make up for not getting fucked by Ethan. I ripped off my clothes, propped up my pillows, spread my legs and took my time giving my soaking slit the attention that it had been clamoring for. I panted and gasped in pleasure when the orgasm took me, and when it was over I curled around my pillow, pretending that it was Ethan Russell. Nestled comfortably in his arms I drifted off to a peaceful nights sleep. I should have known better.

The problem was that one whopping cum wasn't enough to satisfy my supercharged libido. I slept fitfully, and every time I neared consciousness my greedy little slit demanded more. In the middle of the night I masturbated again, imagining that Ethan was watching me. Connor never watched me. He always felt that if I didn't get off from his cock alone then there was just something wrong with me. He thought it was weak of me to still need my fingers after he'd fucked me. Maybe he was right. My imaginary Ethan, however, was delighted and excited to watch my wet fingers tease my clit through another good orgasm. Even later in the night I was awakened by the gentle throbbing between my legs insisting on still more attention. I tickled it through another cum pretending that I was masturbating while Ethan fucked me. When I finally got up in the morning I was tired from keeping my pussy company all night.

Those are the kind of things that I don't tell Eva.

"I know exactly what kind of girl you are," she said laughing. "You're a slut at heart. A tart in training. A gay divorcee who's going to make up for all of those years when you were married to Connor." She laughed and I tried to look demure and innocent and appalled that she would think such a thing, even if it was true. I don't think I pulled it off.

"Baby, you should get to sleep with a hunky cowboy if you want to. You deserve it after Connor. Are you sure he's going to call you?"

"I guess so. He said he would. He'd better." I wished I was as confident as I sounded. The fact of the matter is that a girl always wonders whether or not she's going to be called the next morning no matter how the evening went. And I was having next-morning doubts right then. What if he'd decided that I was only a bit of fluff good for bar company but not worth pursuing? What if he was really married? What if my kiss hadn't turned him on the way I'd been turned on? What if he was having second thoughts of his own? I used my memory of his hard cock pressing against my tummy while he was kissing me to push my negative thoughts away.

But they came rushing back as I realized something – I'd never given him Eva's phone number. I thought back over the evening and I was sure of it. I was screwed. He had no way to find me. Eva saw the realization come over my face.

"What is it? What's the matter?" she said.

"I didn't give him the phone number," I said. I went immediately from giddy and hopeful to miserable, and it showed in my voice and tears welled up in my eyes. I tried to be brave and not actually break out crying in frustration. Connor had changed our number after I'd moved out and I wasn't listed anywhere as long as I was living with Eva. I'd finally met the cowboy of my dreams and he couldn't find me. What was I going to do? My imagination suddenly flashed a picture of myself hanging out at the Rattlesnake Cantina every night for the rest of my life, growing old and fighting off advances from the pretend cowboys while I waited for Ethan Russell to walk through the door. Depressing is way too mild a word.

"Oh, my." Eva thought for a minute. "Well, you know I don't usually recommend this, but I think you could make an exception this time. Why don't you just call him?"

The hope that Eva might have a solution flared briefly and went out as I ran last night through my head. "Nope. He didn't give me his number either."

"Don't look so crestfallen. We're not giving up yet." Eva's tone was buoyant and I borrowed some strength from it. Like I said, she's the best friend a girl could ever have.

"I've got a computer and I know how to use it!" She walked over to her desk, sat down and started typing industriously. I stood behind her and put on my glasses so that I could look at the computer screen over her shoulder as she clicked on the white pages.

"What did you say his last name was?" she asked.

Like I'd ever forget. "Russell. Ethan Russell."

Eva typed it into the box and hit the enter key. The machine said, 'Sorry, no matches were found.' That was me. No matches. I felt even worse than I had before.

"Don't worry. That probably just means he's unlisted. Let's Google him and see what happens." Good ol' Eva – I wouldn't have thought of that in a million years. This time we were luckier, if you want to call it that. 'Ethan Russell' returned over 300,000 hits. My heart sank.

Eva narrowed the search to Colorado but still got 27,000 hits, all of which had and Ethan and a Russell, but no Ethan Russell. She narrowed the search further by putting his name in quotes, which reduced the hits to 114. We painstakingly went through each link, but they were all for wrong. Wrong age, wrong state, wrong era, wrong picture. Wrong, wrong, wrong. I was beyond discouraged. What was I going to do?

"Well that sucks," I said. I thought I was being pretty cool about it. I wasn't screaming anyway.

"Hang on," Eva said. "I have another idea."

Eva linked her way to a site that displayed public records. This time we got lucky. When she punched in 'Ethan Russell' and Colorado there were only a handful of hits. But in order to access them you had to pay $7.95.

"Do you want to do it?" she asked. At least I think that's what she said. I was already in my room getting a charge card out of my purse and it was hard to hear her.

I was running back to her waving my plastic money when the phone rang. Dammit. I had more important things to do than talk on the phone.

"Hello?"

"Hello. Is this Miss Shelley?" Ohmigod. It was him. "This is Ethan Russell. From the Rattlesnake? Last night?"

God help me, I liked how he sounded a little unsure of himself. He was so different from the confident man who had pulled my hair and kissed me until my knees went weak. It made me feel sexy and wonderful that talking to me could erode his calm like that.

"Hi," I said brightly. I had gone over what I was going to say when he called a hundred times since last night – saucy comments that made me look clever and happy that he called. But all of my carefully constructed dialogue flew out the window as my pussy resumed screaming at me that she wanted Ethan's cock.

"Shut up," I whispered to my crotch.

"What?" said Ethan. "I didn't catch that."

"Nothing," I said. "I'm glad you called." I was practically purring into the phone but I didn't care. I wanted to be cool, but curiosity claimed my tongue. "But how'd you get my number?"

He laughed. "Yeah, well I realized I hadn't asked you for it right after we left, which pretty much ruined my theatrical exit. But I went to school at CSU, and I have a friend who went there with me. He works in the computer department now. I figured he'd have access to the student database and he did. I owe him a six-pack. Um, I hope you don't mind?" He sounded embarrassed that he'd gone to such trouble, but I was more than delighted. All of that work to find me when he could have just let me go meant that I hadn't imagined our connection.

"No, I don't mind," I said shyly, waving to Eva to try to get her to keep quiet. I felt like a silly junior high school girl with a crush on the boy who's finally called, and not at all like a divorced woman with a libido that drove her to look for cowboys in country and western bars.

"I thought, you know, maybe if you're free, you'd like to have dinner with me tonight? I have a friend that owns a little restaurant up in the mountains. It'd be a long drive, but we'd have a chance to talk."

"That sounds like fun," I said. I was proud of how cool my voice sounded. "I'd love to. But I need to know what to wear. A girl doesn't like to be overdressed. Is cowgirl OK, or is that just for real buckle bunnies?" I figured that even if he wasn't a real cowboy there had to be a reason I found him in a country bar. And I sure as hell wasn't going to pass up an opportunity to pander to his tastes if it would get me into his pants. Stockings? A pantsuit? A dress? I'd wear anything he wanted.

Ethan chuckled. I had totally forgotten how that sound drove straight between my legs. It was like a little sonic vibrator reaching through the phone line and touching my most sensitive spot. A delicious shiver radiated from between my legs.

"Cowgirl is OK. I like cowgirl," he said, without a trace of irony.

We talked for a few more minutes, and he made a joke about taking me for a real ride this time instead of a mechanical bull ride. The dirty insinuation made my pussy happy, and I knew I was going to have a long afternoon waiting for him to show up. I made him give me his phone number in trade for my address.

"I'll pick you up at seven. Goodbye, Shelley," he said.

"Bye." I hung up the phone and didn't even try to hide the grin on my face. I turned to Eva, who was waiting impatiently for me to tell her what we'd said.

"That was Ethan," I said, trying not to sound too gleeful but failing miserably and grinning too much to contain my emotions anyway. "He's taking me to dinner tonight!" Eva squealed and grabbed my hands. We bounced around the living room together giggling like schoolgirls. Like I said, she's the best friend ever.

I had the whole afternoon to get ready, but somehow it didn't seem like it would be enough time. I hit the books for a couple of hours, masturbated with my favorite vibrator and then took a nap so I could stay up late. Then I got up, ready to get ready.

So he liked cowgirls? That was good. I could do cowgirl. That was why I'd mentioned it. After all, I wasn't the only one who had been hanging out in a country bar last night. Maybe Ethan had a thing for girls in boots, and I wasn't above pressing every advantage I could find if it meant I could get laid.

I started with my favorite flirty shirt. It was dusky brown with horses printed on the front and sexy spaghetti straps. I put on my short denim skirt, my wide belt with the western buckle and the bright red pair of cowboy boots that I'd bought at Shepler's a couple of years ago. My legs were brown enough from horse riding that I didn't need any stockings. I brushed my hair, put on my makeup and topped it all off with my lucky horseshoe earrings.

I looked at myself in the mirror and I had to smile at what I'd put together. An all American cowgirl – flirty, fun and pretty damn sexy, too.

I went out of my bedroom to model myself for Eva. I stopped in front of her and turned in a circle. "So? What do you think?"

Eva laughed and said, "You look fantastic. He isn't gonna know what hit him." I knew that I'd been compliment fishing, but sometimes you need a little extra reinforcement even if you have to ask for it.

I was nervous waiting for Ethan to show up. I paced around the room and sat on the sofa and paced some more. I remembered what it was like to be sixteen again, waiting for my date to come to the door so that he could run the gauntlet of my parents. When the doorbell rang Eva beat me to it. She opened the door and brought him in.

As soon as I saw him my legs got tingly and my pussy felt empty in spite of the all night ravishing that I had given it. I was right back in the parking lot, gushy and needy and ready for a good screwing. He was even better than I had remembered. Lanky and lean, with his jeans held up by a big western belt buckle with a bucking bronco on the front. He was wearing boots and a cowboy shirt, and holding a Stetson in his hands - a perfect hunk of western studliness. I wondered if Eva would care if I just dragged him off to my bedroom, ripped his clothes off and fucked him senseless. Probably not.

Ethan whistled appreciatively at me, his dark gold eyes sparkling in laughter. I spun around so that my skirt flared out, secretly hoping that it would ride high enough that he'd get a good look at my legs. "OK?" I said. He laughed and said, "You make a fine buckle bunny."

I laughed and slapped his arm, one of those girly-girl slaps that pretends dismay but is actually all about ownership. I noticed how Eva was looking at him and I didn't want her getting any ideas.

"I told you I'm not a buckle bunny."

Ethan and Eva smiled at each other conspiratorially, apparently sharing the secret of my true nature. Then they chuckled together at the absurdity of my denial.

"Well, I'm not," I said, as indignantly as I could, but I could feel a little smile on my lips betraying my words.

We made some small talk in the doorway and then Ethan said that we'd better get going. As we walked out Eva opened her eyes wide and mouthed 'Wow' at me behind his back. I had to agree. Wow, indeed.

Ethan led us to his truck, which was a bright shiny red and obviously brand new. It was the biggest pickup that I'd ever seen and I knew that it had cost him a pretty penny. It got even bigger as we neared it, and I wondered where he kept the stepladder that I was going to need to get into it. I made some comment about how cool his truck was because I know that men are proud of their cars. Secretly I was wondering if there was enough room in the front seat for me to lay on my tummy while I gave him a blowjob on the way to the restaurant.

Ethan tried to stop me as I opened the door, but he was too late. Almost before I had the door opened a canine blur burst out of the cab and started running in frenzied circles around the yard. I laughed in surprise at the happy dog, which I could now see was a German Shepard.

"Sorry about that," Ethan said. "His name's Rumball. I hope you don't mind. I was going to tell you but I forgot. He likes to come along when I go out." Rumball was still chasing an imaginary dog track rabbit in circles around the yard.

"Oh," I said. "Poor baby. Of course he wants to get out!"

I didn't say anything, but I was tickled that Ethan had a dog and that he thought enough of him to want to bring him along. It confirmed my appraisal of him, that he was the kind of man that I could really love. Dog lovers should stick with dog lovers, I always say. And a man who would bring a dog on a first date was definitely my kind of guy.

Ethan whistled a low short signal that caused Rumball to immediately stop and run over to sit panting at his master's feet. Ethan reached down and scratched affectionately behind his ears, which the dog accepted as his due. "Rumball, meet Miss Shelley. Miss Shelley, this is Rumball."

Rumball's tongue lolled from his mouth and he closed his eyes in mute pleasure while I rubbed his head.

"Pleased to meet you, Rumball." I said. "You are a pretty dog. Gosh, I wish Midori was this obedient when she meets somebody new."

"You have a dog, too?"

"Oh, yes. Her name's Midori, and she's the sweetest girl. She's a pretty husky with bright blue eyes, and she's the love of my life. But my ex fought me for her just to be nasty and so I only get to have her every other week."

I made a moue to let Ethan know how unhappy I was about the situation, but which didn't which do nearly enough to show how strong my feelings for Midori were. She was my best source of constant affection, there through all of the crushes, infatuations and marriages. She kept me company when I was sad and shared my joy when I wasn't. Although Connor liked her too, I never thought that he cared for her nearly as much as I did. It was just one of the indignities my divorce caused that I didn't have her at my side all of the time any more. I missed her terribly when she was with Connor.

"Well, that's downright criminal," Ethan said. "I know it's not the same, but I'm sure that Rumball will be happy to act as a stand-in when Midori isn't around. See? He likes you."

Rumball grinned at me.

Ethan bent down and petted Rumball and scratched behind his ears. "You want to meet Midori, don't you? Maybe if you're lucky you can get a kiss from her." He put his mouth near Rumball's ear and pretended to whisper a secret to his dog. "If it's anywhere near as good as the one Shelley gave me you'll never wanna give her up."

The implication sent a warm tingle through me. He didn't want to give me up? My kisses made him think that? I finally allowed myself a teensy realistic hope that I'd get luckier than I had last night. My pussy, of course, took that sliver of hope and amplified it into an imminent fucking, leaking screw-me drops into my panties.

"Time to go," Ethan said. He stood up and motioned to the truck and Rumball obediently jumped inside and got behind the seat. It turned out that I didn't really need a stepladder, but it was only because Ethan put out his hand and helped me up onto the running board. Gallantly he held the door open, waiting for me to get in so that he could shut it.

I can only plead 'dripping pussy,' because I'm normally not so forward. Really. In spite of my oversexed imagination I can usually manage to at least act innocent.

I bent over at the waist and leaned into the truck, pretending that all I wanted was to pet Rumball and make sure that he was settled. Of course, what I was really doing was giving Ethan a really close eye-level view of my butt. With me standing on the running board and bending over, my ass was in the perfect position for him to fuck me with his eyes while I pretended not to notice and petted his dog. God, I like to be watched, even if I'm not doing anything. It was all I could do to keep from rubbing my legs together to smear the wetness around. Even without the rubbing my slit responded, and I could feel my panties getting soaked. Time to go, I thought – if he saw juice that leaked from my pussy running down my leg I'd probably die of embarrassment. Quickly I climbed in, wiggling my ass around for him a little more than was really necessary.

Ethan shut the door and gave me a knowing smile through the window before he walked around the truck. I giggled at my brazen tease. God, how did he get me to do such things, anyhow? I could feel the blush rising to my cheeks, and I promised to try and do better. At least, until after dinner.

But it wasn't a promise that I was able to keep. Not very well, anyway. Oh I didn't do anything; it was more of the mental promise that was broken as my pussy kept forcing lusty thoughts into my head.

I needed something to derail my racing thoughts, something that wasn't about sex. There was a large pair of black and white fuzzy dice hanging from the rear view mirror by a long strip of leather. I tapped them idly with my fingers, causing them to sway back and forth while I tried to come up with something cute and innocent to say. "Hey!" Ethan said indignantly. "Don't you know better than to tickle a man's fuzzy dice?" We both broke out laughing. I was happy because he had once again confirmed that he had a dirty mind like mine. I relaxed in my seat and pondered ways to get him to unleash it for me while we drove up into the mountains.

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