gaggirl
11-20-2008, 07:46 AM
Part One The Thrill of the Chase
Heat blows across the barren vista. Eruptions of dust form loose whorls which skip along sequestering any moisture, save the moisture between my thighs. Astride my horse, I dig in the spurs into my mare, for I ride again, all for glory of my Master.
We are the lone figure cut in the landscape of umber which nurtures only cactus, poisonous invertebrates and the birds and dingoes that dine on carrion alone. We swagger through the crippling heat towards the stations’ outpost a long away from my station. Master has had me searching far and long for the One.
I am clad in jodpurs and a tight blouse which is buttoned to my neck, for I am a lady. My long hair wound in a strand under my big old cork hat keeping the thick black insects away from my sweating tanned unmarked face with which genes have blessed me. I think again about my thighs clasped around the saddle of my mare, how I long for them to be held apart.
Its been nine days without end of this toil but for the promise of an outpost that will take but a sun and a moon to reach where I hope to satisfy Master.
I rock into town, my hips undulating, surveying the faces. The leering men and the suspicious women. An establishment beckons me like a magnet, where I’m sure to find the kinds of antagonists of which I hope at least one may prove to be worthy.
There are several horses there all in a row, imbibing on the lifeblood of the desert where inside men ingest spirits and wines.
Already there is attention. I am a stranger. An independent woman. A rarity in these rough handled parts and how dare I walk the same earth as these foul mouthed drunken cattle rangers. Oh I hear the whispers, even the ladies of the parlour fix their vixen eyes on me and stare daggers. It will only be the older ones that smile and think of a thousand days they wished they had chosen a similar oath to I. the lone cowgirl.
I feel the weight of my guns limp at my outer thighs, and the weight of an ache in my groin. Pushing open the saloon doors I stride in with confidence, meting the gaze of every man in the room with steel and poise. Let no man approach me that is not worthy. I swagger to the bar, a sexy walk in my heeled spur boots to the bar and order hard spirits. The bartender slides me the glass of fluid with a nod. God damn I am parched. In more ways than one.
I down the drink and ask for another when two men stand aside me. One of them grabs my ass, which illicists a cool steady steam of spat out spirits in his face. It wasn’t quite what he expected. As he stands about groping his burning eyes and cussing, Im up on the table with my guns drawn cocked and loaded crosswise.
The men don’t know what hit em. My hat falls off, there before them a cowgirl with wavy strands of gold hair to her waist atop a table with guns blasting at em, taking them out two at a time, it is then I see across the room the dark silhouette. He doesn’t blink an eye as everything stands stil as he sips his drink unmoved. By now the drunkards are pulling out their pistols, but im already out the door and on my horse heading clean out of town, and not before I shot that pricks glass. My daddy always told me I was an expert shot.
Do I hear right? Do I hear the sound of hooves behind me? My heart heaps in hope. I look behind and yes, the black silhouette cuts a swarthy sharp in the dust behind me, hot in pursuit. I ride my mare hard, beads of sweat glistening on my tan skin.
Then it comes, a whistle. The bullet hits at the stone at my mares foot. Hes actually shooting at me! I suppose he didn’t like his drink spilt. I laugh with freedom and euphoria at the chase. Now this is truly living! I taunt him with my wild giggles, he shoots back but hes too angry to keep a steady hand and misses wide each time. It doesn’t help I range form side to side, up and over logs down between trees and breathtaking speed far far away now into the thickest bush. Now I don’t know these parts but at some point I have to stop and I can only hope the man doesn’t have more bullets.
Suddenly I am in the air falling, and I fall hard like sack of rubble into the crunchy earth. Pain blazes in my arm. He comes fast upon me on his big black horse while blood thunders in my ears. Puffing I lay and turn looking up at him. His gun points to me and I stare that barrel down, the blood chilling in my body. My chest heaves with the effort of inspiration and my tight blouse is wet with perspiration.
Oh how I want this man, I think to myself, trying to look faintly concerned as he runs his dark eyes over me. I go to my guns, but he cocks his in warning and hops down. I take my guns and hang them limply from my thumbs before spinning them and flinging them to his booted feet. He comes close to me and stands looking down on me, eyes once again scanning heaving newly exposed cleavage and muscled thighs.
I can see the temptation in his eyes.
to be continued
Heat blows across the barren vista. Eruptions of dust form loose whorls which skip along sequestering any moisture, save the moisture between my thighs. Astride my horse, I dig in the spurs into my mare, for I ride again, all for glory of my Master.
We are the lone figure cut in the landscape of umber which nurtures only cactus, poisonous invertebrates and the birds and dingoes that dine on carrion alone. We swagger through the crippling heat towards the stations’ outpost a long away from my station. Master has had me searching far and long for the One.
I am clad in jodpurs and a tight blouse which is buttoned to my neck, for I am a lady. My long hair wound in a strand under my big old cork hat keeping the thick black insects away from my sweating tanned unmarked face with which genes have blessed me. I think again about my thighs clasped around the saddle of my mare, how I long for them to be held apart.
Its been nine days without end of this toil but for the promise of an outpost that will take but a sun and a moon to reach where I hope to satisfy Master.
I rock into town, my hips undulating, surveying the faces. The leering men and the suspicious women. An establishment beckons me like a magnet, where I’m sure to find the kinds of antagonists of which I hope at least one may prove to be worthy.
There are several horses there all in a row, imbibing on the lifeblood of the desert where inside men ingest spirits and wines.
Already there is attention. I am a stranger. An independent woman. A rarity in these rough handled parts and how dare I walk the same earth as these foul mouthed drunken cattle rangers. Oh I hear the whispers, even the ladies of the parlour fix their vixen eyes on me and stare daggers. It will only be the older ones that smile and think of a thousand days they wished they had chosen a similar oath to I. the lone cowgirl.
I feel the weight of my guns limp at my outer thighs, and the weight of an ache in my groin. Pushing open the saloon doors I stride in with confidence, meting the gaze of every man in the room with steel and poise. Let no man approach me that is not worthy. I swagger to the bar, a sexy walk in my heeled spur boots to the bar and order hard spirits. The bartender slides me the glass of fluid with a nod. God damn I am parched. In more ways than one.
I down the drink and ask for another when two men stand aside me. One of them grabs my ass, which illicists a cool steady steam of spat out spirits in his face. It wasn’t quite what he expected. As he stands about groping his burning eyes and cussing, Im up on the table with my guns drawn cocked and loaded crosswise.
The men don’t know what hit em. My hat falls off, there before them a cowgirl with wavy strands of gold hair to her waist atop a table with guns blasting at em, taking them out two at a time, it is then I see across the room the dark silhouette. He doesn’t blink an eye as everything stands stil as he sips his drink unmoved. By now the drunkards are pulling out their pistols, but im already out the door and on my horse heading clean out of town, and not before I shot that pricks glass. My daddy always told me I was an expert shot.
Do I hear right? Do I hear the sound of hooves behind me? My heart heaps in hope. I look behind and yes, the black silhouette cuts a swarthy sharp in the dust behind me, hot in pursuit. I ride my mare hard, beads of sweat glistening on my tan skin.
Then it comes, a whistle. The bullet hits at the stone at my mares foot. Hes actually shooting at me! I suppose he didn’t like his drink spilt. I laugh with freedom and euphoria at the chase. Now this is truly living! I taunt him with my wild giggles, he shoots back but hes too angry to keep a steady hand and misses wide each time. It doesn’t help I range form side to side, up and over logs down between trees and breathtaking speed far far away now into the thickest bush. Now I don’t know these parts but at some point I have to stop and I can only hope the man doesn’t have more bullets.
Suddenly I am in the air falling, and I fall hard like sack of rubble into the crunchy earth. Pain blazes in my arm. He comes fast upon me on his big black horse while blood thunders in my ears. Puffing I lay and turn looking up at him. His gun points to me and I stare that barrel down, the blood chilling in my body. My chest heaves with the effort of inspiration and my tight blouse is wet with perspiration.
Oh how I want this man, I think to myself, trying to look faintly concerned as he runs his dark eyes over me. I go to my guns, but he cocks his in warning and hops down. I take my guns and hang them limply from my thumbs before spinning them and flinging them to his booted feet. He comes close to me and stands looking down on me, eyes once again scanning heaving newly exposed cleavage and muscled thighs.
I can see the temptation in his eyes.
to be continued