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A Small Town Surprise

It was Friday night, and Lara was stranded.

She was driving to visit her friend’s new bed and breakfast in Montana and see the Wild West. But her car broke down, and she was getting it repaired, and the part wasn’t in, and there was nothing she could do about it, but stay in Grangeville, Idaho until Monday.  

She decided she wasn’t just going to sulk on back to her lousy motel room. She was going to have a beer. There was a Denny’s that looked dismal, and there was a steak house that was closed, and there was a sign for a road house that was too far out of town for her to walk to. Then she saw the Rodeo Bar & Grill. Laughter and country music spilled out into the night and it sounded welcoming.

Inside it was crowded, there were no tables, so she pushed her way up to the bar. And standing at one end of it, with some kind of big prize trophy, a beer and a shot glass in front of him, was a guy in a Western shirt and worn denim with bluest blue eyes she’d ever seen.

And a smile that made her get weak in the knees.

Really? She thought, pulling herself together, forcing herself to look away, to the bartender, order a draft Sam Adams, and act like she didn’t even notice he was there.

Except she did, and she could feel those eyes on her. And she liked them looking, too.

The bartender slapped her beer down. 

“What do I owe you?” she asked.

“Already paid for,” the guy said gruffly.

She knew before she turned to see him smiling at her again.

“On me,” he said. “You want a shot, too? The whiskey’s cheap, but it’s strong.”

“Why not,” she shrugged, like having a shot and a beer with a guy she didn’t know who looked this good happened to her all the time. “Whatever you’re having.” 

He pointed his thumb at the bar tender, and he slipped her a shot glass brimming with something dark and brown, and she tossed down the drink. It burned her throat, but at least it gave her a reason for the fire she felt flare up inside her, standing so close to this guy.

“I’m Billy,” he said to her.

“Like Billy the kid?”

“More like Bronco Billy, or Wild Bill Cody, someone who could ride. I rodeo.” He gestured with his thumb again, this time at the trophy.

“Congratulations,” she said. “I’m Lara.”

“Lara,” he smiled again. “Celebrate with me?”

“For a little bit,” she said.

“Oh, longer than that, I hope.”

He downed his drink, and waved for another. “You should’ve seen me ride that bull. Man, I got thrown a lot these past months, but tonight made it right.”

“I’m glad,” she said.

The bartender brought them each another shot. She sipped hers this time, enjoying the little buzz she already had, not sure she should have much more.

He put his hand on her arm, lightly, and she did not move her arm away either, while they made small talk about the rodeo tour he was on, how the season was spring to fall, you start out in the small towns, you build up to the big ones. 

He asked about her and she kept it brief, wrote travel reviews, heading for a friend’s new place, taking some time off, a vacation more or less, before she messed up her car. 

His fingers stroked her arm now, just lightly. Almost not touching her, so light. Her skin felt hot. 

She resisted the urge to throw herself against him, but just barely. 

“You want another drink? You’re barely finishing that one.”

“I think I’ve had enough.”

“Yeah, me too, maybe.”

Their eyes met.

“You have beautiful green eyes,” he said.

“That’s a line.”

“Not one I often use,” he said. “My girl had brown eyes. But she moved east.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s been awhile, is what I mean. Since I wanted to tell anyone they were beautiful.”

She wasn’t sure she entirely believed him, but she wasn’t sure she cared. It had been a while for her, too, and her break-up was nothing like beautiful.

 “Can you take me someplace?” she said. And she was surprised to hear how deep her voice sounded. She cleared her throat. 

****

He paid the bar bill fast, just tossing down a $20.

It took too long, he thought, to steer her through the Saturday night crowd. She could change her mind. She might’ve already, he thought.

The noise from the bar faded away as they walked across the street. When he put his hand on her shoulder, steering her toward his truck, goose bumps shivered up on her skin, and he saw her nipples harden through the thin fabric of her tank top. She hadn’t changed her mind.

“Got a chill?” he asked her.

“I’m used to Los Angeles summers.”

“Which are the same as the winters, am I right?”

“That’s a common misperception,” she said, laughing.

He could tell she was going to be fun. He was having fun already just looking at her standing there in that short skirt and that tight white top, the shadow of whatever she had on for a bra, not substantial enough to hide those erect nipples. 

Then there were those long legs of hers, yeah, he wanted to stroke her her ankles, calves, knees, following everywhere his hands went with his tongue. Slowly, not too fast, he’d move his hands up her fine thighs, spread those legs, licking higher and higher until his hands and his tongue both at once found those panties – put his fingers on up in that pussy, it’d be soft, it’d be wet, it’d open right up for him – maybe she’d lift up those legs and wrap them up around his neck.

He turned to unlock his truck.

One thing he’d learned from the bronc and bull riding. You didn’t try to climb on too fast, they’d throw you faster. He liked moving slow, anyway. 

When he opened the passenger door she was looking at him.

He leaned over her, and kissed her softly on the lips, “I want you,” he told her.

“I want you, too.” She reached for his face and pulled him to her, kissing him until his lips felt raw.

“I’m not quite sure I know what I’m doing,” she said, when they came up for air. She gave a nervous laugh. “I’m just a tourist in town, and I guess I need directions.”

“Happy to oblige,” he said, giving her one last kiss. 

*****

They drove down to the river, buzzing with fireflies.

The sound of the water and the little insect lights were like something out of a dream, she thought. 

“C’mere,” Billy said, and he pulled her close and kissed her

again.

She pressed her tongue to his, her lips to his, they were drinking each other in, lapping each other up. And while he was kissing her, and she was kissing him, he slipped one hand behind her back, finding that place along her spine that she liked. He rubbed there, and she leaned closer, wanting more touch, more touch. How did he know she liked that spot?

Then his hand was slipping under her ribbed white tank, and he just unsnapped the back of her bra. Her bra straps drooped down off her shoulders, and he moved his hand around to her side, his fingers lowered the straps a little more.

Then he sat back, just looking at her in the moonlight, his eyes glinting. “Let me just – see you like that.”

She sat still, feeling a little embarrassed, but she was excited too.

Those blue eyes, she thought.

His hand moved to the front of her breasts now, grazed her nipples until they rose up under his palm.

They were getting started now. 

“So you’ll let me have my way with you?” he asked.

“Sure looks like it,” she replied. Her heart was beating very fast.

Now he moved his hand under her shirt and under her loose bra, and he rubbed her nipples skin on skin, first one and then the other between his thumb and his forefinger, making them harder still beneath his warm and calloused fingers.

She gasped. 

He lowered her bra straps down around her elbows, pinning her arms. Her breasts were constrained only by her shirt now, rubbing against the fabric.

He leaned in and kissed her lips again, his tongue moving between her teeth and out, to trace the outline of her lips. He nibbled on her ear, and ran his tongue along the line of her jaw and the tendons of her neck, and then lower, shifting between light little kisses and lapping with his tongue small circles right up to the edge of her shirt.

She was so turned on her breath came in ragged little bursts. 

He dipped his head down lower, kissing her loose breasts through the fabric of her shirt, his lips sucking on them, open mouthed, leaving wet marks on her shirt.

He stripped off his own tee shirt, showing his taut, muscled chest, silvered in the moonlight. His skin was dark from night shadows and summer sun, and she moved her half-bound arms so that she could press her hands against his chest, her fingers stroking his pectoral muscles, his shoulders. He bent his head lower against her chest and she wrapped her fingers in his curly hair, and pulled his face up to hers so she could kiss him again, and again.

At last, he stripped off her unfastened bra, and tossed it in the back seat.

Then he lifted her shirt over her head and let it fall beside her. He pushed her tangled hair off her face, and kissed her forehead, her eyelids, her cheeks, her nose, and then her lips again, all the time flicking his fingers against her nipples, rubbing his warm rough hand across her breasts.

She moaned as he put his mouth on her bare breasts for the first time, kissing and licking them, first one and then the other, the nipple, the aureole, the round flesh and down to her ribs.

She was enormously excited. She felt like she had a fever.

She could still hear the river but she couldn’t see it through the steam they’d made on the windows.

What she saw was Billy’s erection pushing at his jeans. She put her hand on his crotch and felt him pulsing under her palm.

So far, she realized, all the action had been above the waist, except for her own hand on him.

Like he was reading her mind he lifted her hand off him, and pushed her skirt up on her thighs and spread them gently. He rubbed his hand up one thigh and then the other, slowly, slowly, inching his hands from her knee to her pelvis.

She twisted around in her seat because it felt so good and she wanted more.

He pushed her panties aside a little more and put in a second finger, and then a third, and then she came, shuddering and crying out into the dark night. 

****

After he gave her the hand job,  Billy sat back and watched the flush fade from her cheeks and bare chest and spread thighs. A thin sheen of sweat lay over her skin. Her mouth was just slightly parted, and he touched it with his fingers, still sticky from her.

She took his fingers in her mouth and sucked on them.

He wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold back, no matter how determined her was to give her a good long ride.

“You like that, baby?”

“Yes.”

No need for the question or the answer, it was just part of the rhythm he was using to hold on.

He turned her torso full on toward him, and lifted her legs up high on the seat, so they were bent at the knees, her back nearly up against the passenger door. He spread her legs wider. He put one hand under her ass, and lifting her up, tugged her panties down about to about mid-thigh.

The crotch was cotton and he felt it, nearly sodden. He inhaled the smell of her sex and her sweat, as he pushed the panties down her legs, and slipped her shoe off her right foot and the panties over that foot, and then slipped off the left shoe, and tugged the panties off that foot, too, and then her shoes and her panties were discarded on the floor of the truck. Then he began to kiss her, just as he’d imagined doing, only better, from her firm trim ankles, up the swell of her calves, behind her knees and along the inside of her thighs until he rested his lips inside her other lips, the soft pink labia, spread her open, so rosy and wet. He sucked on her clit and rubbed his tongue all around until she was even wetter, and so much bigger, opening up to him.

He lifted his head just once, “Look at you. You’re just dripping,” he said.

She did look, and with her fingers wrapped up in his hair just looking, she came then, and again against his tongue, shooting out salty and strong, and again when he sat up, and put his whole hand up inside her.

When he drew his hand out, her body made a little sucking sound, like she wanted to keep him there. Oh yeah, oh yeah she did. But he sat back from her again and slid the bench seat all the way to the back and unbuckled his belt.

She got the message and leaned over him, unzipping his fly. 

“Got a peppermint flavored raincoat in my pocket,” he said.

When she’d suited him up she took him in her mouth and worked that cock until he was hard as a tree.

She had her own fingers inside herself, twisting up in the pink wet places beneath the damp curl of her pubic hair, and when she came this time playing with herself, she took him in her mouth deeper, right down to the balls.

As good as it felt, he lifted her lips off his dick, and then lifted her in his arms. She felt light, as he swung her on top of him, thrust himself between her legs.

She was wide open and loose and ready, and she clamped herself around him, moving up and down on him as he was pushing in and out of her. They got quite a little beat going, thighs slapping together, until she let out a long, vibrating cry. She collapsed against his chest, panting, and he let go, too, until he’s come shuddering inside her.

He pushed her hair off her face, smoothed it, then let his fingers play down her cheeks to her lips. She took his fingers in her mouth again and sucked them, one after the other, moved them in and out between her lips like slender cocks.

“We having fun yet?” he asked her.

“Oh yeah,” she said.

She slid off of him and onto the seat of the truck. She plucked her tank top off the floor and threw it on.

He put his arm around her shoulders and she rested her head against his chest.

They stayed like that for awhile, with the river rushing by outside the truck, until the steam crept back from the windows and they had a view again, and of the moon higher up over the hills now.

“Where are we headed now?” she asked.

****

She knew where she wanted to go. To bed with him, only not to sleep, not tonight. She wanted more. It was like she’d never even considered feeling like this and now she wanted to keep feeling like this, keep the wildness going.

She just wanted to feel his skin on her skin, his lips on her lips, his lips all over her body, hers on his. She was so hot, inside and out, she thought she must be giving off steam.

 

“Tell me what you want,” he said.

“I don’t want you to stop. Not tonight.” She closed her eyes. 

“Sounds fine to me,” he said. “This is a celebration, remember?”

She kept her eyes closed but she could almost feel his smile. She felt her own spread across her flushed face.

“I’m at the Salmon Creek Lodge. Do you know the way?”

“Of course, I do,” he said, and he started the engine. “You’re the tourist in town. I’m here to show you the lay of the land.”

He steered with one hand, and kept stroking her with the other, while he drove.