One Hard Ride

by M. M. Bordeaux

  Two bare light bulbs suspended from the ceiling cut through the gloom enough for her to see the barn’s interior. The barn, long and narrow, had been divided into six or seven stalls on each side, with a dirt floor between them running the full length of the building. Two of the stalls held bales of hay, stacked almost to the low ceiling. Another stall was filled with saddles, bridles, and other tack. At the end of the barn to the right, where one of the double doors had been partially rolled aside, stood a large black extended cab pick-up truck.

  Another sharp whinny split the air and she looked quickly toward the other end of the barn. Two cowboys, one tall and one short, were working with a pair of horses. The horses, both dark brown with black manes and tails, were not saddled but had halters and lead ropes.

  One of the horses stood facing into a stall, its head tied close to a rail next to the barn wall. The short cowboy had hold of the second horse’s lead rope, pulling it toward the rear end of the hitched up horse. The two cowboy’s backs were turned toward her, and they had no idea she was there.

  “Yup! Yup! Come on Rocket! Get up!” The taller cowboy was behind the horse outside the stall, urging him into the stall with the other horse. Then she realized he wasn’t urging the horse into the stall, but on top of the first horse.

  Oh my God, she thought, now seeing the stallion’s huge cock that was swinging menacingly under the big horse’s belly.

  “Sheeup! Sheeup Rocket!” The short cowboy was standing on a rail outside the stall holding the mare, pulling hard on the lead rope of the stallion, trying to lift its head and pull it forward. The cowboy’s voice sounded shrill, mixing with the snorting and huffing of the stallion and the high whinnies of the mare.

  Amanda was transfixed by the stallion’s huge cock, which had to be two feet long and as thick as the business end of a baseball bat. She could see that the massive instrument, a mottled pink and black, was already dripping fluid. Both horses pranced anxiously, their back hooves digging up chunks of dirt from the floor. The mare, her wild eyes trying to see the stallion behind her, had her tail up, waving it like a flag as she danced from side to side.

  The stallion suddenly reared up, snorting as his forelegs landed on each side of the mare’s rump. Amanda watched in amazement as the stallion’s massive cock suddenly lifted and speared forward, sliding halfway into the mare. Working his back legs for traction, the stallion lunged forward again, burying his cock deeper.

  Jesus, she thought. How could any animal accommodate a cock that big?

  Hunching his hips, the stallion worked his forelegs up the mare’s back, finally burying his cock completely in the mare.

  The stallion fucked the mare rapidly for a few minutes and then it was over. The stallion stepped backward, his penis sliding out of the mare. As he backed up, the mare whinnied and bucked. “Goddamn it Dolly, stop that! You’ve had your fuck.” The tall cowboy slapped the mare’s rump with the quirt, then grabbed the stallion’s lead rope and led him away. At the end of the barn beyond the stall sat a set of double doors identical to the doors to Amanda’s right. The cowboy rolled one of the doors aside and stood watching the last of the rain. After a moment, he unhooked the lead rope and let the stallion loose in the wood-railed paddock. The stallion bucked a couple of times as he left the barn, then disappeared from sight.

  Stepping back inside, the cowboy turned toward his partner, who had walked up behind him. Suddenly, he leaned down and kissed the short cowboy, who immediately wrapped his arms around the taller man’s neck.

  Holy shit! Amanda stared, stunned. Just then, the shorter man’s hat fell backward onto the floor of the barn, uncovering a thick mane of blond curls. After the unexpected shock of seeing what she thought were two men kissing, she was relieved to find that the short cowboy was actually a cowgirl.

  The couple moved out from under the hanging bulb that lit the stall until they were primarily in silhouette. But it was obvious the man was squeezing the woman’s breast as they kissed, and one of her hands had drifted down from the man’s neck to his rear.

  As the couple continued kissing, Amanda felt her nipples harden again. Her pussy was also tingling and she realized, to her embarrassment, that watching the stallion and mare had turned her on much more than she would ever admit. Now, watching the couple groping each other in the barn, her arousal was rapidly growing in intensity.

  Amanda knew she should turn away, go back to the car, and give the lovers in the barn their privacy. But the voyeuristic arousal she felt kept her transfixed. She put her hand on the crotch of her jeans, pressing hard, trying unsuccessfully to quiet the tingling hum of blood rushing to her swelling pussy lips. She closed her eyes for a moment, wondering if this could actually be happening. When she opened them, she saw that the woman was now squatting on the dirt floor, balancing as her fingers worked quickly at the man’s belt. A moment later, she pulled his unbuckled jeans aside and hauled out an impressively large cock. Even in the shadowy dimness, Amanda could see the cowboy’s dick was at least nine or ten inches long, longer than any she’d seen outside of the few porn movies she’d watched. With the girl’s hand wrapped around the base, another five or six inches extended out from her fist.

  The cowgirl angled the cowboy’s cock upward slightly and took the head in her mouth. The sight quickly dialed up the silent buzzing under Amanda’s cotton thong. As the woman slowly sucked the man’s cock, Amanda slid one hand down inside her jeans and the other up under her tank top to squeeze her breast.

  Suddenly remembering where she was, she looked quickly over one shoulder then the other. The hail had stopped completely and the rain had dwindled to a light sprinkle. The landscape, still gray from the cloud cover, was wet and glistening but completely empty. She saw no signs of life, not even a cow. She leaned forward an inch or two and peeked back inside the barn.

  The cowgirl had abandoned the blowjob and turned her back on the cowboy. She was now bending over at the waist, holding on to a rail of one of the horse stalls, while the cowboy struggled to pull her tight jeans down her legs to her boots. Once he had her jeans down to her boot tops, he took a condom from his pocket, opened it, and rolled it down his amazing length.

  Amanda still had one hand inside her own jeans, but realized the fit was too tight to allow the finger movement she craved. She quickly unsnapped and unzipped her jeans, pushing them down just enough to access to the damp, swollen flesh between her legs. Slipping one hand down inside her thong, she slid her index finger into the wet slit below her clitoris just as the cowboy slid his cock into the cowgirl. As he fucked the cowgirl, Amanda finger-fucked herself, stimulated by the scene in the barn and the memory of the stallion thrusting his giant cock into the mare. To her surprise, and increased arousal, the face of the cowboy with the pussy-melting emerald green eyes also flitted among the images that were overwhelming her.

  In the inhibited part of her consciousness that normally ruled her sexual urges, Amanda could not believe she was actually standing outside a barn in the middle of Texas, finger-fucking herself as she watched two people doing the nasty inside the barn. But the physical sensation spreading up into her belly and down the insides of her thighs was proof enough of just how much she was enjoying it.

  The cowgirl had been moaning softly but now her cries of pleasure were growing in intensity. The level of Amanda’s arousal was keeping pace, her fingers working her wet slit faster and faster, sliding deep between her swollen lips, then back up to circle eagerly around her clit.

  The cowgirl bucked her bare bottom against the cowboy’s thrusts, suddenly climaxing and crying, “Yes! Yesss! Fuck me, Luke! Fuck me hard!”

  Amanda’s fingers flew rapidly over her pussy, pushing her to the edge of orgasm. As one hand worked inside her jeans, she squeezed her breasts with the other, pinching her erect nipples to the point of pain. She desperately needed to come. She was close. So close that her knees felt weak. She backed up, supporting herself against the huge tire of the tractor. Her eyes were closed tig
ht, her breath coming in short gasps. Any minute she would find her pleasure.

  ****

  Jake Morgan nudged Ginger up the rutted road toward the barn where the art appraiser’s car was parked under the overhang. As he approached, he saw the woman standing next to an opening in the barn. She was peering intently into the shadowy interior of the barn, her back to the road. The hail had stopped, but there was still a steady drizzle of rain. He started to call out to the woman, but stopped when he saw what she was doing.

  “Son of a bitch,” he murmured, reining Ginger to a halt. The woman had one hand inside her jeans, obviously rubbing herself. With her other hand, she was squeezing her breasts. She apparently was so enraptured by whatever she saw inside the barn that she was paying no attention to anything else.

  What the hell was she watching that had her frigging herself out in the open? He smiled. Luke and Julie were supposed to be breeding Rocket and Dolly in the barn. Maybe she was watching that. Or maybe Luke was breeding Julie. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time. Whatever it was, it was damn sure turning her on. From the action of her hand inside her pants, she was definitely aroused and needed to come.

  He had been royally pissed when she drove her car into his herd and scattered them with her goddamn horn. It had taken the cowhands an hour to round them back up and moved to pasture. Still, he had to admit that she was damned good looking. When he had arranged for an art appraiser to come look at Great Granddad’s painting, he had half expected a matronly woman in her sixties with her gray hair up in a bun. He certainly hadn’t expected this sexy lady. She was pretty. And she had an amazing pair of tits.

  She’d blushed beet red when she caught him looking at her nipples. What the hell will she do when she realizes he’s caught her with her hand down her pants?

  He nudged Ginger again and the horse snorted as she moved forward. He was less than forty feet from the woman when she finally opened her eyes and saw him. Her face went instantly ashen and then turned sunset red. He couldn’t keep from smiling when she whipped her hand out of her jeans and tried to zip them up without him seeing what she was doing. Damn she was pretty when her cheeks turned rosy. It wouldn’t be bad at all to have her around the ranch for a few days. If she was horny enough to frig herself in broad daylight, what would she be like in the dark? The shy ones often turned into wildcats once their campfire was lit.

  He watched her in silence, but couldn’t keep a glimmer of amusement out of his expression. He touched the brim of his cowboy hat and calmly said, “Howdy ma’am.”

  “I—I—I was just getting out of the—the—hail,” she stammered.

  “Good idea. Hail storm’s no fun to be out in.” He nudged Ginger toward her and stopped ten feet away. The lady finally stepped away from the tractor and faced him. She was still beet red from embarrassment, but took a deep breath to introduce herself.

  “I’m Amanda Sloane. From Peabody, Patterson & Cope. I’m here to examine some artwork.”

  “Figured as much.” He swung down off Ginger and stepped forward. He slipped the leather glove off his right hand and extended his arm. “I’m Jake Morgan. My brother Justin and I own this spread.” He took her offered hand, holding it as he looked into her eyes. After a long moment, she averted her eyes and pulled her hand away.

  She looked at his horse just a few feet away. “Your horse is pretty. What kind is it?”

  “This is Ginger,” he said. “She’s a sorrel Quarter Horse. Most of our horses are Quarter Horses. Do you ride?”

  Amanda stepped forward and laid her palm on Ginger’s nose. “No, not at all,” she said. “The closest I’ve come is a horse-drawn carriage in Central Park.”

  “We’ll have to fix that,” he said. “But right now, Justin is probably waiting for us. We’d best get on up to the ranch house. Our granddaddy built it originally as a hunting lodge.” He swung back up on his horse. “We were worried you might be having some trouble in the storm, so I thought it best if I come fetch you. I’m glad you found some shelter from the hail.”

  There was the sound of dual mufflers rumbling and a moment later a big black pickup pulled around the corner of the barn. As the truck pulled up alongside Jake and Amanda, the window rolled down. “Hey Jake. What’s up?” The cowboy addressed Jake but was looking at Amanda.

  “This is Miss Sloane,” Jake said. “From New York. She’s going to take a look at Great Granddaddy’s painting. She pulled in here to get out of the hail. Miss Sloane, this is Luke Slate, our ranch foreman. And that’s Julie Decker.” He nodded toward the cowgirl sitting next to Luke. “Julie is in charge of our equine breeding program.” The cowgirl leaned forward and looked across the cowboy, nodding hello to Amanda.

  “How’d it go with Dolly and Rocket?” Jake asked.

  “They’re both just great,” Julie said. “Come next April, you can bet on a baby Rocket. Or Dolly,” she said, speaking to Jake but also looking at Amanda.

  Luke let the clutch out and the truck rolled down the rutted drive toward the gravel road.

  “You follow me,” Jake said to Amanda. “We’ll get you to the ranch in a few minutes. Sorry about the bad weather. In springtime, you can’t tell what it’s going to do out here. Least we didn’t have a twister.”

  Amanda walked around the tractor and got in her car. As she started it and pulled out from under the canopy, Jake mounted and spurred his horse into a trot down the rutted drive. She followed slowly in the car, slipping occasionally in the mud but keeping up. Jake looked over his shoulder. That woman is one damned fine filly, he thought, standing in his stirrups to adjust the crotch of his jeans. And damn if she hasn’t given me a hard-on.

  Chapter Four

  Amanda followed Jake down the muddy drive and out onto the gravel road, thankful that she hadn’t gotten stuck. On the gravel road, Jake spurred into a faster pace and she sped up, trying to keep the car close. As she watched him ride, she wondered what in the world he thought of her. First honking like a madwoman at his cows, but then to be caught—Jesus, she couldn’t imagine what must be going through his head. Richard, she thought, if the Morgans don’t sign with PP&C, it will surely be because you sent a voyeuristic sex-crazed slut to represent you. A slut who got caught with her fingers in the nookie jar.

  At the top of a slight rise, Jake pulled off to one side and waited for Amanda to catch up. As she crested the hill, she slowed down, looking at a sight that took her breath away.

  Immediately in front of her, announcing the entrance to the ranch, was a gateway created by two huge tree trunk posts, holding up a massive log crossbeam that stretched to the sides of the road and beyond. In the center of the crossbeam hung the skull of a longhorn steer, its horns stretching out at least six feet from tip to tip. Beneath the skull hung a large, welded metal M.

  Once past the open gateway, the road wound down into a shallow valley that was a glistening patchwork of green meadows and fields of wild flowers in various shades of blue and yellow and red. In the bottom of the valley, a stream meandered between the fields of green hay and colorful flowers, disappearing into the distance at the valley’s far end. On the side of the valley, she could see forty or fifty white-faced cattle like the ones she had scared the bejesus out of earlier in the day. On the other side sat a cluster of buildings. Some were obviously barns and stables, others she was unsure of.

  Set back against thick groves of pines and cottonwoods and overlooking the entire valley, sat a large two-story stone and timber structure that was obviously the main ranch house. It did, indeed, look more like a hunting lodge than the ranch house she’d expected.

  The entire panorama looked like a set staged for a Western epic, and Amanda had to stop the car for a moment to catch her breath and take the sight in.

  Just when she thought the scene couldn’t be prettier, the sun broke through the last of the storm clouds, its late afternoon light casting a golden glow over the entire valley. The stream, now a russet reflection of the setting sun, suddenly burst into a spa
rkling ribbon of dancing light. A rainbow appeared, faint at first, then in sharp definition as it arched halfway across the sky.

  Holy crap, she thought, a bit overwhelmed by the sheer beauty of the valley bathed in golden light. She didn’t particularly believe in omens, but she also had never experienced a rainbow in a scene so incredibly spectacular.

  Jake nudged his horse over to her car. As he approached, she rolled down the window.

  “Everything okay?” He leaned down toward the open window.

  “Yes, everything’s fine. I’m just admiring the view. It’s really very beautiful from up here.”

  Jake raised back up and looked over the valley. He smiled. “It is pretty, isn’t it? I guess you get used to it, seeing it every day.” He gazed at the scene for a moment then turned back to Amanda. She suddenly realized he was looking at her in the same way she was admiring his ranch. The realization sent a flutter of butterflies through her tummy.

  “Do you mind if I take a picture? I’d like to e-mail a snapshot back to my office in New York.”

  He smiled. “Help yourself. It is a damn pretty sight.” He said this with an appraising gleam in his eye, looking at her, not the ranch. The butterflies in her stomach did a loop. She got out of the car and snapped three quick shots with her cell. Later, she would send the pics to Sarah with the message, “Eat your heart out, city girl.”

  When she got back in the car, Jake said, “Just follow the road up to the lodge. Justin should be there waiting on you. I’ll be up as soon as I take care of Ginger.” He slipped a pocket watch out of his vest and glanced at it, then looked over his shoulder at the sun, now an orange ball in the Western sky. “We can put you up in a guest room for as long as you like. We’ve got six or seven. I’ll have our housekeeper, Rosita, see to it.”

  Before she could say thanks, he reined his horse and trotted down the road toward the ranch. After a moment, he spurred the horse into a gentle lope, heading toward a long, low-roofed barn similar to the one where she had seen the stallion and mare being bred.