Date: 12/12/2015, Categories: BDSM, Author: cdod, Rating: , Source: xHamster
In many ways a cowhand is similar to a sailor. He'll spend days or weeks on the trail, with scarcely another human in sight except for his fellow cowboy, and when he returns to civilization he craves some lovely feminine companionship; craves it so much he'll often fantasize about it, experience mirages like men dying of thirst in the desert. Thus it was with Stanley's men that summer afternoon when the stranger rode into their midst. The men figured they had to be imagining things -- either that or they'd been eating loco weed. The stranger was a woman. And not just any woman, but a jaw-dropping, palm-sweating, I-need-some-desert-time-alone kind of woman. The first thing the men noticed was that she smelled like a lady. She rode into the camp proudly, sporting an eager grin on her smooth-jawed face, and reeking of cleanliness and fancy city parfumes. The men saw she was dressed in fancy cowboy dudes: sleek, tight-fitting, cordoroy pants, with scarcely a speck of dust on them, brand-new leather chaps, boots that must have a cost a hundred dollars _each_, an oversize red-and-white checkered fannel shirt, a red bandana tied in a neat knot around her throat, and topping off the outfit, a ten-gallon felt cowboy hat tied to her head by a slender string that looped under her chin. The men didn't know whether to drool or laugh. "She's a goddamned city slicker!" grunted one man finally, and he was echoed by a round of guffaws. "I'll slick her city," growled another, to even bigger ...