KC and the Moonshine Band

When she spoke again, her voice was quiet and contemplative. "Yeah, this is where I'm from now. I love it and I hope you do. Special place, Claire. Very special place."

The journey was amazing and I couldn't wait to get out on horseback in the stunning scenery. Mountain ridges went off in all directions and creeks and rivers flowed through a rocky landscape. The sky was postcard blue and yes, there was the occasional eagle 'up top.' We were also promised moose but remained disappointed.

Along the way, Shauna gave us a commentary on the scenery and her knowledge was remarkable. I could barely tell the mountains from each other, but she knew each peak, valley and river. As she spoke, I pretended to look out of the window while keeping a close eye on KC, who gazed out quietly and serenely. She occasionally pointed out a landmark to me and I hung on her every word, fantasising about running my tongue across her full, pink lips then seeing those green eyes gaze into mine as her soft red hair tickled my thighs.

By the time we arrived at our destination, I could barely take my eyes off her and from the occasional shy little smile she gave me, I prayed I was getting the right vibes. I knew that whatever else I did in my two weeks on the ranch, I at least had to try to entice Miss KC Warner into my cabin.

The ranch looked a picture in the sunshine, nestled at the head of one of the valleys beneath a small, but still impressive hill. A huge wooden central building housed the communal areas, with a dozen or so cabins dotted around it. My heart leapt as I saw the stable block and ring and got my first sight of the horses. KC told me they were a Rocky Mountain breed, originally from Kentucky and they were perfect for trail riding -- agile, sure-footed and safe. I immediately loved the contrast between the lighter mane and the dappled chocolate colour of their coats.

We were met by Jed, the head wrangler and three more of his crew. A quick recce left me under no illusions that if I was going to get lucky, it would be with the staff and not my fellow vacationers. I was shown to my log cabin by a handsome guy a few years younger than me who introduced himself as Nathan.

My bag was already inside the door and the place looked comfortable and well-furnished with a downstairs living area and the bedroom on a mezzanine above. I was invited to welcoming drinks and lunch over in the main block to be followed by an introductory tour and an assessment of our riding prowess. I had modestly described myself as 'experienced' although I had been tempted by the 'expert' option.

I would certainly have ticked 'expert' had a more intimate question been posed.

I had thirty minutes to unpack and acquaint myself with my new home, then walked in warm sunshine to the main building. It was a huge, vaulted log cabin with a main dining area, what appeared to be a well-stocked free bar, and a number of upstairs balconies. With that and my own cabin, it looked a very pleasant place to spend two weeks.

I was even happier when I had a cold bottle of one of the beers I had tried in the brewpub in my hand and tucked into the sumptuous buffet they laid on for us. My first impressions of Beaver Creek were very positive and once we were sated, we were taken on our tour of the stables and grounds and I met the lovely horses for the first time. There was a shooting range, archery, a few jumping fences, outdoor hot tubs and even tennis courts. We were given a map of the place and Jed described the main trails and highlighted the numerous safe walking routes. I had brought a sturdy pair of walking shoes and intended to explore the area on foot as well as horseback.

Next, I had to show Jed what I could do on horseback and hopefully keep my 'experienced' status and I felt I had done reasonably well on a sweet, gentle little horse named Cody. All of the horses were imaginatively named after towns in a wide radius of the ranch, and besides Cody there was Jackson, Boise, Blackfoot, Ogden, Casper and Helena amongst others. I could only assume that no-one had located KC's hometown on the map as I couldn't see a mount named Shitsville.

Pleased that I had impressed enough to remain as 'experienced' I was told that the first ride would be the next morning and would be led by Nathan. It was a two-hour trek to 'break us in gently' and I would be with two of the couples I had met on the bus.

Following that, in the evening, there would be a big cookout barbeque and we were promised entertainment, laughter and fun. That was just what I needed. I just hoped KC would be part of it all.

I slept like a baby and woke to a beautiful late summer day. The season was almost at an end so it was not too hot -- perfect for a trek into the lovely scenery.

As I crossed the ring to meet up with my new steed and fellow riders, KC came out of one of the stables, her hair shining in the sun. She gave me a cheery wave. "Hey, Claire -- see ya at the BBQ later!"

My day had just gotten off to a very fine start and the ride was great. It was clear from the outset that young Nathan had eyes for me, so if nothing came of my plans for KC, then at least I would have some solace to fall back on.

Three

In anyone else's terms, the first day was an unqualified success and the barbeque was an amazing night. In my terms there were a few qualifications, but I have to admit they were all down to me and only came towards the end.

The food at the barbeque was glorious. The ribs and steaks were unsurpassed by those I'd had in top-of-the-range restaurants across the globe and sitting out under the stars with no light pollution was utterly exhilarating. The last time that much meat passed my lips was at an orgy on the shores of Lake Tahoe five years previously, but that all seemed like it had happened to someone else in a galaxy far, far away.

It wasn't far from the truth. I had changed a lot since then - mostly recently - and I was beginning to think of myself as a different person.

The accompanying drinks were equally as good as the food - acclaimed vintages and fine local craft beers. I availed myself of both as we sat around trestle tables laden with food, the mountains silhouetted behind as the sun set. Everyone was in good spirits and for the first time in a while, I felt upbeat about things.

Then Jed announced that the music was about to start. We had been promised a singalong and I expected a forlorn attempt to get some kind of crowd reaction going to what KC had so eloquently referred to as 'shitty country covers.' As such, I was quite prepared to head to my cabin early but decided to at least give it a chance.

We gathered around the small, makeshift stage made up of a few old pallets and railway sleepers with a campfire burning at each side acting as stage lights. We sat on logs fitted with old saddles. I clutched a bottle of the local brew, had a last rib to chew on if required and was prepared to be totally underwhelmed.

To my astonishment, Shauna and KC emerged from the darkness. Shauna was festooned with musical instruments and not content with a twelve string guitar on her back, she hung a fiddle from an overhanging tree branch and placed a banjo on a stand.

Then I saw what KC had around her long, elegant neck. I had played a bit of guitar back in my youth and even I knew that Martin guitars did not come cheap. It was beautiful and shone in the light of the twin fires. I reckoned it was a D35 and wondered how a cowgirl in the middle of nowhere could afford such an expensive instrument.

But whatever that guitar was, it was just wood and metal. It could not hold a million candles to the girl who played it, her red hair shining brightly in the firelight, her smile wider than the Grand Canyon beneath her black Stetson and those incredible green eyes gazing out on the assembled throng.

She beamed down at us as Shauna tuned her guitar. It was a Gretsch and pretty as she was and as lovely as they both were, I only had eyes for KC.

"Hey guys, hope you enjoyed the amazin' food tonight. Let's hear it for Pattie and Mags and Dylan on the barbie! Just hope the bears don't smell it and come a-wanderin' in for a feed. OK, been a great night so far, but someone's always gotta spoil the fun. If we've not met yet, my name's KC and this here is my bestie Shauna. I kinda wanna call us 'KC and the Moonshine Band', but our multi-instrumentalist here has other ideas, so as per, we are the 'Beaver Creek Girls'. This is our first song and it goes... like... this."

I recognised the song immediately. It was REM's 'Don't Go Back to Rockville' and the girls nailed it. Their individual voices were beautiful, but together they were utterly stunning and set the hairs on the back of my neck going. It was spine-tingling stuff and they recreated the Michael Stipe and Mike Mills harmonies with uncanny accuracy.

By the time they had blitzed through 'Jolene,' 'Wichita Lineman,' 'Pleasant Valley Sunday' and half a dozen other classics, I was utterly in awe.

And I would be lying to myself if I tried to deny that Miss KC Warner got to me more and more with each song.

As their first set finished, KC asked if anyone was brave enough to do a song, but there were no takers. I tried to catch her eye as I whooped and hollered my applause. This was no shitty country covers band. It was sublime and I wanted nothing more than for KC to come to my cabin and make sweet love to me all night long. To hell with the horses, she could do it for the next two weeks for all I cared.

Of course, that was nowhere near the way it all panned out. As I made my way over to tell her how great it had been, Nathan waylaid me. His intent was pretty clear and KC saw us talking and made an obvious assumption. Eyes blazing, she turned away and got into conversation with the Iowan couple.

As their second set came to a close with a rendition of 'Hotel California,' she and Shauna thanked the audience. Shauna stayed to mingle, KC beat a hasty retreat to the staff quarters.

I sought out Nathan again. I wanted to be with KC, but if I couldn't have her, I just needed a human touch.

I caught up with him by the bar area in the main barn. I wasn't in the mood for pissing about. "Hey, Nate - any rules on fraternisation with the guests?"

He tipped his hat. "Only that we use discretion, Miss Massey."

I took his hand. "I want to fuck you in my cabin, Nate. Not on the front porch. And it's Claire, got that?"

He got it and he called my name through gritted teeth as he came. Unfortunately, I didn't reciprocate as I was still high and dry. It was nothing to do with him - it was all down to a tall redhead called KC Warner. I apologised to him and felt utterly shitty that I had led him on with no real intentions of anything else than using him as a human dildo.

It served me right that it had all backfired on me. He assured me that making out with a hot Brit gal had been great, but I still felt guilty at taking advantage of him. A few months earlier I would have unleashed my full box of tricks on him and begged him to unload on my face. Now I could barely wait for him to finish in his condom and be on his way.

I didn't even have the energy or inclination to fetch myself off when he had gone.

I slept badly, then woke to find a note under my door to say that KC would be my ride leader today and we would be on the trail at nine.

Oh good. Whoop-de-fucking-do. Face to face with her the morning after. I had hoped it may have been a while before I saw her again to let the dust settle a little.

It got worse when the first person I bumped into on the way to the stable block was Nathan. I began another mumbled apology, but he cut me short.

"Hey Claire, this kinda thing happens. Way out here, things are different. Kinda gets to you and you do things you maybe normally wouldn't. All part of life. Shame it didn't work out but don't beat yourself up over me. Plenty of ladies turn me down flat. Still got to make out with a lovely girl so at least one of us had a good time!"

I thanked him and was about to head on when he stopped me. "Claire, careful with KC. She's a babe and we all love her, but there's history there. Just sayin', yeah?"

I smiled. "That obvious, eh?"

"We see things. We get used to it. She has an effect on folk. Hell, I tried my best four years back when she first arrived. Least she was polite and I didn't have to retrieve my crown jewels from my throat like one asshole who couldn't take no for an answer." He grimaced. "Jeez, the thought of that kick still makes me curl up to this day." He tipped his hat again. "Anyways, good luck with her and have a fine ride today."

That made me feel a little better and when KC shot me a big smile as I arrived at the stables, my mood lightened considerably.

There were eight of us and I was surprised to see that KC was our only guide. When everyone was saddled up, she led us out. Having seen her smile at me, I was hoping to be able to ride alongside her, especially when she made an immediate bee-line for me.

"Hey Claire, hope ya don't mind, but we're a little short of guides today as we're stupid busy. Should really be another guide with me. You're way more experienced than the rest. Mind ridin' red lantern and keepin' an eye on 'em? Give me a holler if anythin' needs sortin'?"

I said I would and she thanked me and said we would catch up at the spot she had allocated for our lunch stop.

I was disappointed but also flattered she had asked me. After all, there was still plenty of time to engage her. Luckily there were no alarms and after a gentle, picturesque ascent into the foothills of the mountains, we stopped for our packed lunch after a couple of hours.

I sat on a worn rock, chowing down. Obviously this was a well-used spot. KC was immediately waylaid by an older couple from DC, the sort you see on every vacation -- the ones that think they have exclusive access to the guide and they are there for their convenience only. It was obvious she was itching to get away and I bided my time with my lunch, which unfortunately was not quite up to the standard of the barbeque.

At last, she made her excuses and headed over. I prayed no-one else would waylay her and was relieved when she sat down beside me.

"Thanks for ridin' tail gunner. Helluva night last night, huh? Enjoy it?"

"I did indeed. Food and drink were great and that little scratch band... well, let's just say I've paid top dollar to see a lot worse!"

She smiled. "Thanks, we do try."

"You were bloody brilliant, KC. The way you and Shauna harmonise -- shit, I had goosebumps!"

"Yeah, we do a few open mics and stuff in town and we ain't been shouted off yet!" She suddenly became serious. "So any goosebumps... after the gig?"

Oh shit, here we go. I pulled a face and looked out at the mountains.

"Shit, he usually gets a good rep."

"It was me, KC -- not Nathan."

It was her turn to gaze into the distance. Her voice sounded small. "Wrong choice?"

"Something like that."

"We all make mistakes. It's how we put 'em right that counts."

"Indeed it is. So..." I was just about to make my move when the wife from the monopolistic DC couple called over.

"Sorry to interrupt, KC darlin', but..."

"Comin', Nancy." KC rolled her eyes and dropped her voice to a whisper. "Fuck me, not again. Gonna be a long week. If they get lost on the trail on the way back, don't fuckin' holler, got me!"

"Gotcha." I looked up at her hopefully. "After dinner? My cabin?"

She nodded her head as if weighing up my offer. "I may just drop by and discuss the day with ya."

Then she winked at me and I rode back on Cloud Nine. Unfortunately the DC couple made it back too.

After dinner, I made sure everyone saw me stand, yawn copiously and announce I was tired after a long day on the trail. Five minutes later there was a knock on my door.

KC stood on the step, a bottle of red wine in her hand. "Care to discuss the day, Miss Massey?"

"I'd be delighted, Miss Warner. It was a very fine day indeed."

I stood back and ushered her in. She put the bottle on a small table next to the door and stood so close to me I could smell wine on her breath and her heady patchouli scent.

"Dunno 'bout you, but all that endless talk about the day has fair tuckered me out." She took me in her arms and I knew in that instant I had not made a mistake this time.

I'd had so many lovers over the years, both male and female that I had lost count. Someone once said that if the average male size was six inches, then I had probably had a quarter of a mile of cock inside me since I was sixteen. I thought that was a bit harsh, but then again, it was probably not far from the truth.

There had been a lot of pussy involved as well, but that evening in the mountains, I would have gladly forgone any of them for just that one evening with KC Warner. I somehow expected a full-on, whoopin' and hollerin' rodeo, but she was probably the most gentle, empathic and giving lover I could recall. Yes, we had our nastier moments with a nice little interlude of biting and hair-pulling, but it was all just great fun. I had sometimes gotten too serious about sex. This had to go in there for so long then we changed, then did something else. All a little regimented and pre-planned.

With KC, it just flowed. We did what came naturally and let it take its course. There was a vibe on my nightstand, but neither of us went near it. We just wanted to experience and explore each other with our hands, mouths and entwined bodies.

If I thought she was breath-taking fully clothed, I didn't have the words to describe KC Warner naked. Ninety percent of porn stars or models wouldn't come close to her. I had never seen a more perfect body and couldn't believe that for those three blissful hours it was in my bed, making sweet love to me. Her smile and her intoxicating laughter captured me entirely and the sound she made when she came almost had me in tears it was so beautiful.

It began with a slow burn of a kiss, her soft lips opening to mine, our tongues flickering, teeth nibbling. Hands in hair, breasts crushing together, sucking sweet breath from each other's mouths as nipples hardened and dark crevices grew damp with anticipation. Like me, she was braless and the feel of her soft, yielding flesh under her coarse cowboy shirt made my head spin. I popped a button and slipped a hand inside and she groaned into my mouth as I flicked a fingernail against a taut nipple before pinching it gently. I shivered in her embrace as she reciprocated, tweaking mine between her forefingers and thumb.

She broke away and slowly and methodically unbuttoned my shirt then gestured for me to open it. I did and she looked at me appraisingly. "Sure make 'em purty in England. Never had me some Limey pussy before. Taste good?"

I slid a hand down inside my jeans and held up a sticky finger to her. "You tell me, KC. But only if I get to taste yours."

With a sigh, she mirrored my actions and held up her forefinger. It glistened in the candlelight of the room. We both purred as we got a first taste of each other. She nodded. "Finger lickin' good." Then she laughed. "Sorry, corny as shit, but had to be said." She pointed at her own buttons. "Seem to be at a disadvantage, Miss Massey. Care to even up the score?"

Did I ever? I slowly undid the remaining buttons and made to peel back her shirt when she grasped my left wrist. "Word of warnin.' Someone drawed on my fair skin. Hope ya like ink."

My heart sank. In the main, I hated tattoos. There were some exceptions, but I had seen too many gross ones over the years. With bated breath I opened her shirt and slipped it down over her shoulders, gazing in total wonderment at the most glorious, beautiful tattoo I had ever seen. It started above her left elbow and wound up to her shoulder, across the top of her chest, before swooping down between her breasts and curving up around the right one. It was simply breath-taking, an intricate web of swirling lines and curves that followed her musculature in perfect harmony, as though she had been born with it. It was organic and almost seemed to move across her skin of its own accord.