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BOOK: cowboysdream
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Scanning, uploading and/or distribution of this book via the Internet, print, audio recordings or any other means without the permission of the Publisher is illegal and will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

 

 

This book is a work of fiction.
 
Names, places, events and characters are fictitious in every regard.
 
Any
similarities to actual events or persons, living or dead, is
purely coincidental.
 

 

 

 

Cowboys’ Dreams

Copyright
© 2008
Carol McKenzie

ISBN 978-1-60054-184-4

Fairy Tales & Love Songs

Cover Art & Design by Carol McKenzie

 

All rights reserved.
 
Except for review purposes, the reproduction of this book in whole or part, electronically or mechanically, constitutes a copyright violation.
   

 

Published by
loveyoudivine

2008

Find us on the World Wide Web at

www.loveyoudivine.com

 

 

 
 

 

 
 

 

 
 

Chapter One

 
 

 

 

           
It was hot as Hades a day in June of 1871. Bo Rodriguez and his partner Silk Bennett rode until the North Central Wyoming hills grew steep and rugged. Upon nearing a ledge, they pulled in the reins and peered down at the sweeping green valley below. It looked exactly as Joe had described. The breathtaking view seemed as though it was part of a make believe land-so refreshing, cool and inviting, even though the temperature hovered somewhere in the nineties. The cottonwood, which they paused under, gave them a little relief from the relentless noonday sun compared to the view below.
 

           
Bo stepped down off the saddle and glanced up at Silk. Did he too smell wood smoke? Someone had just cooked breakfast.

           
Two corrals stood off to one side. He pulled a bloodstained, tattered, hand drawn map from his shirt pocket and held a hand over his thick black brows to block out the bright sun.

           
"Yep.
This has to be it."

           
His back ached from a fall he took while busting broncos ten years back. It looked like his days of riding where coming to an end, and he was only thirty.

           
"Joe's spread," he said to his riding buddy in a dry and raspy voice that had a hint of a Mexican accent.

           
His long, lean, silky-haired, high cheek-boned partner looked over at Bo and nodded. "It looks like we've made it, amigo."

           
Bo didn't know what possessed him when they had ridden in to
Sheridan
. He had been hot, tired and dry and should have stopped for the night, rented a room, ate a hot meal and spent the night. Maybe they would have looked presentable to Joe's Mrs. when they rode up. They just hadn't been thinking clearly.

           
But he wanted to see Joe's woman. Bo felt like he knew her already from all of Joe’s stories. He'd bet his bottom dollar Silk felt the same way. Instead of cleaning and resting up in town like they should have done, they had stopped at a saloon to quench their thirst by downing a few shots of red eye with beer before they headed back down the trail toward the ranch.

           
Silk looked straight at Bo; their gazes locked and Silk said, "Damn, I hate
doin
' this."

           
"We've
gotta
do it...we promised Joe."

           
A sad image of their shipmate came to Bo's mind as he lit the half-smoked stogie he'd clamped between his taut lips. "Maybe she'll let us wash up and eat some supper later on." He blew out the match and flicked it down onto a large rock. Taking a thoughtful sip of fragrant smoke, he said, "I'd like to feel civilized again."

"Don't get too comfortable in your
thinkin
'. She just may shoot our asses on sight, too."

           
Bo nodded in agreement, raised his cowboy hat and wiped his wet brow line with the sleeve of his shirt. He moved over into the shade. "I've thought about that."

           
"She'd get spooked
seein
' us bad guys," said Silk with a frown.

           
"She just might." He tapped his hat back onto his dark brown mane and continued, "If she's been
runnin
' this ranch nigh over a year, I’d say she'd not mind
doin
' it. It'd take a mighty damned tough woman to run this big son of a bitch while..." Bo's voice trailed off. "Well, hell, never mind."

           
"
Accordin
' to Joe she has plenty of spunk."

           
Aila
must have pleased him in bed. The red hot "bedtime" stories Joe had shared
were
so potent that weeks later, just thinking back upon them, caused Bo's dick to harden. Joe had been a friend, but damn it, he had been a bastard for traipsing off like he did, leaving her to fend for herself. Upon Joe's death, the thought of possibly having her as their own woman, sent Silk and Bo on horseback across the country, a hard ride through hostile Indian territory, in search of her.

           
He didn't know if Silk experienced similar upheavals, but on occasion he'd daydream sexy stories as they poked along the dusty trails. It helped Bo to pass the time. Perhaps Silk had similar ideas, but he kept them to himself.

           
Bo revisited one dream more than the others. Bo would pull
Aila
tightly to his chest and say, "I've come to take care of your needs--all of them." He murmured words of need and frustration as he looked down hard into her delicate face-a lithograph of poignant sweetness.

           
Her cheeks stained to a shade of crimson rose as he skimmed her throat with his lips.

           
The idea of her small, soft form leaning against his
body,
stopped his breathing and melted his tough exterior like ice in the summertime. Joe had described the blonde-haired, eye-catching woman, and Bo felt he knew her from the top of her head down to the soft female folds of her center and to the tips of her toes. Joe told Silk and Bo that she did not ever have any man's cock except his, but she was a hot-blooded woman.
     
Bo figured that her solitary life was about to have a couple of men in it shortly.
If Joe had told the truth.

           
In his daydream,
Aila
would resist his attention and the temptations he presented at first. Any good woman would turn away from a stranger, especially a woman who felt she was still married to a living husband.

           
Bo imagined her voice even though Joe had never mentioned it. "I've never done it with any man
b'sides
Joe," she would admit.

           
Most likely, in real life,
Aila
would never fuck outside marriage, but it didn't hurt to dream. He set about winning her heart for a while. He wouldn't try to bed her down until he knew she positively ached for him and didn't want him to stop the obvious seduction.

           
His penis stirred as he thought of her yielding, helplessly enthralled by his attentions. And he would handle her like she had never been handled, with the utmost care and thoughtfulness, causing her to wage war within herself until she succumbed. He'd make
Aila
want him as much as he wanted her-he'd tease and tantalize the daylights out of her, until she pleaded with him to ravish her with his bed chamber prowess and passionate sweet talk.
Aila
would stay in Bo’s arms when he brought her tightly to him. That would solidify his belief that she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

           
In her disturbed green eyes, he would see her answering love and desire. A forgone conclusion that she accepted his
invitation,
he would reach down and unfasten the top button of his trousers, at last freeing his bound erection.
Aila’s
past with Joe was gone, as far as Bo was concerned, and her future with Bo was about to begin.

           
"I'm here to please you and take care of you,” he would say tenderly. "I won’t leave, like some men would do." His tone was unmistakably intimate but the meaning implicit-Joe abandoned her, plain and simple.

           
Her firm “no” stance would be wearing down. "Help me then. Make me feel whole again," she would breathe into his ear. "Let me feel you inside me."

           
The acceptance was all he needed to feel, see and hear to up the level of their relationship. Not lingering a second more, almost feverishly, Bo would pick her up off her feet and whisk her off to the bedroom. The back of her skirt would drag along the floor as he entered the house and carried her effortlessly across a dining room that blurred in his mind to a bedroom. He guessed he fell in love with
Aila
after listening to Joe’s stories depicting how wonderful she was.

           
In his dream, Bo kicked the door closed and began undressing
Aila
, relieving her of her long skirt, top and undergarments. Once on the soft feather bed kissed the corner of her closed eyes, dragging his lips across her cheek while he fondled her breasts. He captured her nipples between his first and second fingers.

His lips replaced his fingers and he fed on her nipples.

           

Mmm
,”
Aila
moaned, lying back and letting him have his way.

Her light skinned body of nubile curves lay before his feasting eyes. Bo took in the nest of dark blonde ringlets that adorned the V at the top of her thighs. To test her wetness, he’d slip his fingers into the slit, moving against her nub and got his answer when he felt her moist, contracting opening.

           
As he scrutinized her growing need for relief, excitedly and eagerly, she raised her hips off the bed, riding his hand, whimpering and hungry for him.

Blood surging through his veins like white water down a creek bed, he opened her mouth with a deepening kiss as his hands spread over her bare ass.

She reached for his waistband and pushed at his pants.

           
"Wait a second." Breathlessly he rose off the bed, determined to drive her insane with pleasure. Standing nearby, he pulled off his pants and underwear then stood before her aching for her inspection and approval. His strong burgundy cock stood like a statue; its plum smooth cap glistened with pearls of white, oozing sticky liquid from the slit.

           
He climbed back onto the bed, positioning himself between her parted legs. He slipped his hands under her slim derriere and pulled her to his erection. His knees depressing the mattress, with a swift movement, he thrust it into her giving her the jolt of a lifetime and an exquisite sensation for him. Her warmth surrounded him, clasping him tightly as he lunged harder and deeper over and over again, withdrawing and thrusting into her until an orgasm threatened to erupt. Bo’s head whirling, he groaned softly as he heard the slap-slap-slap of his loins pounding
Aila’s
pussy. In the wake of tumultuous passion, with his hands to the bend in her legs, he stopped long enough to drape her limbs over his shoulders for deeper penetration, and sped up his effort.

           
The bed rattled and their breathing rasped from their lungs.

           
Aila
shuddered and her pussy
spasmed
as it bathed his cock with her juices. Simultaneously, he thrust his sex one last time into her, exploding inside her with great force, causing a jolt of sensation that seemed to come over her like rippling waves crashing through her nerve endings.

           
A series of groans and a grunt of release followed. As the returned to reality, he whispered, "You're a beautiful woman,
Aila
." And then Bo’s daydream ended.

Feeling let down a bit, as they rode in closer to the ranch, Bo raised his field glasses and caught a better look at Joe's wife. It was hard to see her; she was merely a speck. Two horses stood in the corral. Beyond the fence several heads of cattle stood in a grassy pasture. After they rode a few dozen more feet, Bo saw her more clearly.
        
"Buenos
dias
, Senorita," he said in perfect Spanish, and then whistled lightly under his breath. He watched her for a little longer. What was she doing out there? Culling cattle? He sat there surveying the property and her.

           
"
You
lookin
'
at her?"

           
"Yeah buddy I'm
lookin
' at her," he said, his stogie still on his lip and the field glasses to his eyes.

BOOK: cowboysdream
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