Lizzie

His cold belt buckle pressed hard against my nose, as he quietly undid his zipper. I dug my knees into the hard uneven rock beneath me, but it was worth it. Old Billy wasn't wearing any underwear, and it swelled down between his legs. I looked up at his sparkling big blue eyes, as I wrapped my lips around him. It was so thick I could barely get him inside my mouth.

My old lady was a really beauty, and I felt real bad doing this inches away from our bedroom window. It wasn't long before Old Billy grabbed the back of my neck, and shot his load deep inside my sore mouth.

Still looking up at him from under his cowboy hat, I stopped and wiped the rest on my tattered up shirtsleeve. I stood close to him, and grabbed his silver belt buckle with both hands. I leaned up so close to his mouth, that I could feel his warm breath on my lips. I stayed awake so many nights, dreaming of pressing my lips against his rugged face. He was still dripping onto the ground, and I could see some hit his shiny gator boots.

"What the heck is wrong with you? He whispered a bit too loud.

I stared at his eyes in disbelief as he pushed me away. I had been sucking him off for months, but I guess this was too far for the old cowboy. Without saying another word, he did up his zipper and rode off into the starry August night. I took one last look at him riding away, wishing I was behind on that horse. I just wanted to know what it felt like to kiss him.

I quietly opened the big wooden door and went inside the house. I tried to hold back the tears, and quickly wash the taste of him out of my mouth. Dang, I was such a darn idiot. I saw Old Billy riding around town a few times after that. I knew he saw me, but he never said another word to me.

Rumor around town was that he died of tuberculosis. Personally, I think someone had settled a score with him. Nobody wanted to admit that he had been defeated. Maybe it was one of his secret lovers or maybe he crossed the wrong cowboy.

You see, Old Billy was pretty popular around our small Texas town. He was known to be your best friend or your worst enemy. We didn't need a sheriff in our little Texas town. If you broke a law, it was usually Old Billy who solved your problem.

Most nights he would hang out in one of the bars on Main Street. Main Street was a string of bars, shops and brothels. If you were sinning, you were probably sinning somewhere on Main Street.

There was the bar I liked to frequent at the edge of Main Street. It's the Jazz bar with the double Saloon doors near the schoolhouse. It's the bar with the two red painted trumpets at the entrance. It's hard to miss, but most people go to the other rowdy bars.

Truthfully, I don't like jazz at all. I don't even like it a little bit. I don't even like going to bars. I don't even care that it's always a competition. It's always about which guy has the nicest hat and shiniest gator boots. I know some of these men have some real dark demons floating around, and that's how Old Billy came into my life.

One Saturday night at the jazz, I strung up a conversation with the old feller. After a few too many shots of hooch, Old Billy told me about a secret spot at the edge of town. We rode back to the old mill together on his large black stallion.

He quietly tied his horse under the weeping willow tree. As we walked together behind the mill, he explained that this was where the guys came to play. I told him this was my first time with a 'feller', and he happily showed me what to do.

That's where I developed a longing for Old Billy.

The rule in town was you never spoke about what happened behind the mill, and we were no exception. It went on with Billy for awhile but eventually we got tired of the mill, and he started to worry about people noticing.

It's was always me sucking him off, but I didn't mind. The way his body shook when he held my head in place always made me want more.

But Billy wasn't the only reason I frequented the Jazz bar.

There was another reason I kept going back to the Jazz bar. Now that Billy was out of the picture my heart moved in another direction.

She was probably half my age, and I was probably double her weight. Why would the prettiest gal in town want this old scruffy cowboy? I guess I wasn't the ugliest one around here, but I was sure wasn't the prettiest.

Her shiny red fingernails glided smoothly against the dusty piano keys, and her soft pleasant voice echoed across the bar.

Old man rocky sits in the back corner. His old droopy-eared beagle hops up on top of piano.

Sadly, the biggest response is a beagle howling along to her soft melody. Rumor has it the beagle is blind as bat, but somehow he's always up there when she plays. By the time she finishes singing her songs, half of the guys are slumped over. Even the old beagle is slumped over next to her, and he's drooling atop the piano.

Her large black fedora covers most of her head, and her thick sunshades cover her eyes. She always wears the most beautiful white dresses. Her long blonde hair hangs down over her soft shoulders down her perfect backside.

She's such a mystery. She is a true beauty in disguise.

She's always facing away from us patrons. Her long legs barely fit the small wooden piano bench. Her three inch stilettos tap up and down against the floor to her perfect melody. The old dusty bar does no justice to this mysterious beauty.

Usually when she finishes playing, the beagle runs back to his owner. There's always a trail of drool behind that old stinky dog. Old man rocky is usually fast asleep, or passed out drunk. The few of us patrons who aren't passed out clap for her, but she never reveals her face. She always walks to the back of the small stage before we can get a good look at her.

I don't know why she even does it. She really seems out of place in a room full of belt buckles and cowboy hats. Although she always seems to smile when he howls away, I don't think she's playing for that old blind beagle. I highly doubt she's doing it for the money, because nobody has an extra dime around here. Well, if they do it's gone by the end of the night.

The beagle was pattering away, eating scraps of food off the floor. She was slowly sipping a double whiskey like it was hot tea.

I had no idea why she was sitting alone at the bar, but I wasn't going to pass this up.

I brushed my hands down my jeans, and tightened up my big silver belt buckle. I finally have a chance to talk to this beautiful mystery woman. I took a quick look in the mirror at the side of the bar, making sure my big cowboy hat was perfectly aligned and my boots nice and shiny.

"Howdy"

"Howdy" She replied, smiling up at me.

Rocky let out a loud howl, and I patted him on the head.

"Ain't talking to you old feller"

The beagle looked up and scoffed at me. With his nose high in the air, he walked off to old man Rocky who was still fast asleep. He knew he wasn't privy to this conversation.

"Name's Jeb" I said, nervously stretching my hand out towards her.

"Name is Elizabeth like the queen, but they call me Lizzie round here"

Her teeth were oddly perfect, considering most of us in town never met a dentist. I did my best not to stare at her thick supple breasts pushing out under her pretty white dress. She finally removed the sunglasses. Her eyes were incredibly beautiful. They shone bright like diamonds in mountain of manure. Yep, it's a weird expression but all the expressions are weird around here.

We have a rule in the bar. The glass is never empty, and tonight's no exception. She explains that she moved back here from the city a couple months ago to tend to her old man. She drank another shot and explained that he passed away from tuberculosis. The alcohol hits hard, but I'm still sober enough to connect the dots. Yep, the dude I used to suck off is her Pa.

We chat a little bit more, and she explains to me that she sings at the bar to make ends meet. She also sells her paintings at the Saturday market, and does the occasional modeling to make ends meet. I'm surprised to hear her tell me that her Pa didn't leave her much. He left her a couple of workhorses and the rundown property behind the schoolhouse. Turns out, Old Billy really wasn't as much as he claimed to be. He was all talk and no cowboy.

I tell her about my eldest, my daughter Becky who moved to New York to go into education. I tell her about my son Jeb Junior who went off to become some sort of business suit.

"What's about your lady?" She asks, as she smoothly adds a thick layer of dark red lipstick to her thin heart-shaped lips.

It's always a hard question for me. I explain that the old lady left me a couple years back. She didn't want to work on the Farm, and fell in love with some rich businessman from over in the cities.

"And you, no old man?" I shoot back.

It's a rude question, but the alcohol hits hard enough to make our conversation easy.

She explains that life in the city was so chaotic, and she just couldn't fall in love. She dated here and there but usually just lost interest. She shrugged her shoulders, and sighed.

"You know Jeb, all these men in the city and I could probably pick them up by my pinky"

I chuckle at her comment. The old saying goes, 'if you want to see a city boy fall over, hand him a shovel'.

Lizzie leaned in a bit closer and lightly brushed her long red painted against my thigh. Around these parts that's the sign. That's when the conversation ends, and you know exactly where the night is heading.

I stuff a couple of dollar bills into the half-asleep bartender's pocket, and we head out. We walk out arm in arm. Even though, he was blind the beagle seemed to give us the cold stare. Even the old blind beagle knew we were about to sin. The rest of the guys were either asleep or so drunk they probably didn't see us walk out together.

As I guide her up on my mare, I can't help but steal a glance at her knee-high white stockings. Her white clear stockings came up past her knees, and had little satin bows at the seams. I doubt she had bought those from anywhere near here, probably something she picked up in the city.

Her soft hands clutch hard at my belt buckle, and we slowly ride towards my place. She rides fearlessly, I had no doubt she rode horses her whole life. One slip of her hand below my belt, and she would know exactly how I felt about her.

Twenty minutes later we arrived at my place. I hop off, and guide her off my horse. Her dress slides up, and she catches me staring at her pretty legs. We were both still pretty drunk and she barely could stand. I wrap my hands tight around her waist so she doesn't fall in the dirt.

With my hands still wrapped around her waist, we end up with our lips pressed together. She tastes like a mix of red lipstick and whiskey. Her warm tongue finds its way inside my mouth as we press our bodies closer together. She giggles as the horse stomps his hoof hard against the ground, throwing sand all over us.

We stumble into my place, and I grab some hooch from the cabinet.

"Is that your pa?" she asks, pointing up above the couch.

She's pointing to massive gold-framed picture above the torn up leather couch. Pa is proudly holding massive deer antlers in one hand, and a.38 cal in the other.

"He's a handsome cowboy, and I see where you get it"

I smile at her and we sit down close together on the old tattered couch. It isn't long before our soft kissing turns to heavy petting. I try to ignore pa's wandering eyes staring down at us on the couch. She stretches one of her long thin legs across my lap. Pa wouldn't want me making love before marriage. She smiles at my fascination with her stockings. She knows nobody around these parts ever owned a pair.

"You like those, don't you?" She says, sliding her other leg up on my lap.

She dangles her legs up and down on my lap, and I caress them. I slide my hand higher up her legs, but she pushes it back down past her knees.

"You got somewhere a bit more comfortable? She whispers in my ear.

She pulls her dress all the way up, and gives me a quick peek between her legs. She's wearing pretty lace panties that perfectly match her stockings. She spreads her legs wide open and I try to reach up.

She takes my hand, and gives it a soft gentle kiss. Still holding me by the hand, she picks me up off the couch. I eagerly lead her to the back of the house. It isn't luxury, but I proudly tell her I built every part of my bedroom myself.

I sit down at the edge of the bed, and grab another bottle of hooch from the nightstand. That's another thing I made myself. I never told Old Rocky but I'm pretty certain that's how the poor beagle went blind. I slowly drink another shot while she turns around.

I grab the bottle and hand it to her. She gulps half of it down like a crazy person, and I help her undo her pretty white dress. Her perfect hourglass figure is revealed under her tight white corset. I try to reach up and undo the corset, but she pushes me down on the bed.

She slowly undoes my jean zipper and pulls me out. Her knees press into the bedroom carpet and her hands toy with my swollen member.

"Wow you're a big boy!" She says, as her dark red lips wrap around my engorged tip.

She wraps her dark heart-shaped lips tighter around my tip, gently teasing me in and out her mouth. Her tongue glides up and down around my shaft, causing me to say words I'd get hung for.

She reaches down and undoes my big belt buckle. She pulls my jeans down past my knees, and caresses my hairy swollen balls. It isn't long before her red lips are wrapped all the way around the bottom, and her soft lips pressed against my balls. I moan loudly as a small string of her saliva drips down from her face down to my inner thighs.

I glance down at her large breasts, wishing she would pull that corset off. Her large black hat bounces up and down on her perfect face as she bobs her head faster. She stops what she is doing and pulls my boots off. She pulls my jeans down past my feet, and throws them on the floor.

She grabs me by my shirt collar, and pulls me up against the corner of the bed. She knows how pretty she is, and now she's showing off. She gets up in front of the bed, and stands tall in her unbelievably sexy outfit. She stands like a true angel with her knee high white stockings and matching white corset. She tosses her hat on the floor, and her blonde hair falls down over the back of her corset.

"I have a little surprise for you" She proclaims.

She grabs the bottle and takes another long swig.

"Stand up behind me" she orders me.

I nearly jump up off the bed with enthusiasm. I stand behind her and press my body against perfect ass cheeks. She takes my hands in hers, and we slowly caress her inner thigh together. I feel her hand sweating on top of mine, as we make our way up her legs to her white lace panties.

"You want to touch me, don't you" She whispers.

"Of course I do, you're such an angel" I whisper back.

My jaw drops wide open. I can't believe what I'm feeling between her legs. She places my hand inside her soft lace panties.

"You...you...have...A......" I stammer, unsure how to react.

"Does it matter?" she asks, caressing my scruffy face with her soft fingers.

I keep my hands buried inside her panties, and slowly stroke her up down. Now, it turns from curiosity to fascination. She started swelling up in my hand, as I go faster and faster.

She is so much bigger and thicker than I am.

"Well, you want to taste it?"

I eagerly get down on my knees, and press my lips against her panties. She reaches down and pulls her panties to the side. It hangs out the side of her panties, like a baby boa. It's way bigger and thicker than mine.

"Guess you never see one of us types before" She said, stroking herself up and down against my open mouth.

"Nope, can't say I have" I say, between trying to wrap my lips all the way down her.

If only she knew about what her Pa was into.

She reaches up and pulls her corset halfway down, exposing her supple breasts. Those perfect breasts that I had been staring at in the bar. Her breasts are unbelievably perfect, and she knows damn well I can't take my eyes of them. Her small perfect pink nipples poke out, and are already hard. She has the finest D cups that I've seen in my forty years.

She takes my hands and holds them against her perfect chest. She rocks back and forth into my open mouth as I play with her hard pink nipples. Her panties press against my nose, as I finally fit her all the way inside my mouth.

She pulls out of my mouth, and turns around

"Can you help me undo this?"

I help her undo her corset, and it falls down to the floor. I stand up behind her and press my body against hers. I squeeze her breasts with one hand, and stroke her while kissing her from behind. Now I can really see her perfect hourglass figure.

She takes my hand and we stroke her together inside her panties. Her white stockings brush lightly against my legs as I stroke her a bit faster. She turns around again, and we kiss passionately.

She lays down on the bed on spreads her legs wide apart. I quickly get on my knees in front of the bed, and she pushes her lace panties down just above her knees.

I'm on my knees again, worshiping this tall goddess.

She grabs my neck, and pulls my head back and forth on her swelling cock. I reach up and lightly pinch her hard protruding nipples. The room echoes louder this time, as my chin pushes into her swollen balls.

She pulls out of my mouth, and shoves me next to her on the bed. She flips me over on my back, and pulls her panties to the ground. It's clear what she's about to do. I've never done anything like it before. She spreads my legs wide apart, and shoves her panties in my mouth.

I've never had anyone do this to, but her smooth long licks make me gasp for more.

"Got any sex oil"

Oh yes, Sex oil.

With her tongue buried in me, I reach into the nightstand and pull out an old dusty bottle. I can't even remember the last time I used this stuff.

She takes the sex oil and rubs it all over herself. I shake with fear, wondering what will happen next. With her hands pushing down hard on my back, she tries pushing inside me.

"You like that cowboy, don't you?" She says, grabbing herself, and trying to push inside me.

I nod up and down, pretending it doesn't hurt at all. The panties buried in my mouth muffle my loud moans, but this old cowboy can't handle this thick angel. This old cowboy that once killed a burglar with his bare hands can't handle a nine-incher pushing inside him. She pushes in a bit further, gliding a little bit faster. I bite the panties harder trying to hide my pain. She finally pushes inside me.

She goes on top of me, her breasts pressed softly against my back.

"mhhhmmmm" I plead with her. But she obviously can't hear me.

She doesn't listen and goes back and forth inside me, making me beg her to stop.

"Alright cowboy, then it's my turn" she says, realizing I really can't handle her.

I hate that I couldn't handle her, but she was just too wide for me.

She goes on the bed and grabbed her heels, spreading her legs high in the air. I wasn't going to go easy on her, no sir!

I stand at the edge of the bed, grab both her stockings, and pull her legs wider apart. She grabs her cock and strokes it up and down, while I slowly lick her tight pink hole.

"Oh my you're so wide" she gasped, as I added some sex oil and slowly pushed in.

I grab her thin waist, and push into her. She grabs herself and rubs her thick cock up and down, as I push further and further inside her. She wraps her hands around my back, and digs her fingernails into me. But the pain of her finger nails only causes me to swell up in her.

She pushes me aside and got on her hands and knees. She spreads her legs wide apart, and I stick my tongue between her ass cheeks. I grab her waist hard, and rock her body back and forth on my tongue.