Cowboys

Author's note: this story is fictional, and all characters are fictional. It is done for your sexual pleasure, and to inspire your own imagination, in a healthy way. Comments and feedback are greatly appreciated!

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It was a little boring, standing in the back of the club, overlooking the dance floor. It was late enough that the barmaids had already begun dancing on their counters, in very provocative and alluring moves. Hellaciously nice curves. Awesome big tits, nice round asses.

I had danced a few times with some young teachers, but they were a group, and when the dances had ended, they'd made a beeline for their group. Oh, well, at least it was fun feeling their bodies pressed up close against mine. Just enough to slightly awaken George, my nickname for my man meat.

So here I was, leaning on the counter that ran along the wall to put beer bottles on, just watching. I noticed I wasn't alone, either. Here and there, on one deck or another, were guys obviously scoping out the women, looking for pussy to take home. Single life could be lonely, on nights when none of the ladies clicked with me. But the times they did had been some of the hottest nights of fucking I had ever enjoyed. Tight pussies on some, big tits with big nipples on others, mind-blowing blow jobs, seemed like women these days had no limits, and liked to fuck in every way they could imagine. Who was I to deny them their fun, right?

Being where I was in life, late 50's, some gray hair, not as chiseled as in days gone by, I wondered if that kept me out of some women's pants. Nothing I could do about that, though, short of coloring my hair and hitting the gym. I was comfortable with me in my own skin, whatever happens, happens, I told myself.

I did notice one of the other single and looking guys who looked about my age, and we locked eyes several times. It was getting pretty late now, not too far from closing time, but still enough time to enjoy another beer or two. So I sauntered up the steps to the next deck up, and over to the cowboy I'd noticed.

"Howdy, how's it going?" I offered, and leaned on my elbow on the beer shelf on the wall.

"Bout the same as with you, it looks like. Plenty of women, just no live ones tonight that I have found."

"I know what you mean. One of those nights where pussy is hard to come by. Care for a beer?"

"Sure, always good for a beer. Miller Lite if you don't mind."

"That's my beer of choice, too. Be right back." And I headed off to the closest beer bar. I loved how they had these in so many spots around the club, never too far to reload easily. I paid the babe behind the bar the five dollars, enjoying her huge round tits, and grabbed the cans. As I approached the lone cowboy, I notice his only semi-tight jeans, cowboy-tailored black shirt, and sharp leather boots that looked almost new.

"Here ya go, one cold brew," and set his down next to him.

"Thanks, I appreciate it. Name's Jim, by the way," he told me as he reached out his hand.

"Bill, good to meet you." We shook hands, and I noticed his eyes were looking down at my crotch.

Both of us took a hit off our ice-cold brews, and gazed out towards the dance floor.

Then he asked me a different kinda question. "You ever get tired of chasing pussy?"

Took me a minute to think through that thought, then responded "yeah, sometimes, sometimes seems like a helluva lotta work for a few hours of fun. And then there's the hooks ya gotta dodge. Don't get me wrong, I do like pussy, and do enjoy a hot woman."

"I know what you mean. I was thinking tonight, been dancing with several, bought a few drinks, only to have things turn to vapor. The "chase" is fun most of the time, specially when you get into their pants. But sometimes, to me, is just wearing, ya know?"

"Yep, know exactly what you mean. So what conclusions did you come up with?" I asked, hopefully opening the door for Jim to walk thru and give me a sign maybe he was an open-minded sort of cowboy.

"Well, not sure how I should answer that, but I will tell you, hanging out with guys always just seems to be laid back and relaxing."

"You mean like playing pool and drinking beer, stuff like that?"

"Yeah. just easy to be around guys, in purdy much every way, if you know what I mean."

"Looks like a dry night for us, far as pussy goes, for tonight anyways. You wanna come over to my place? I've got plenty of cold beer, and a pool table, if you're interested." Jim's eyes had a different look in them now, an inviting look I guess you could call it. He wasn't a bad-looking guy, and we did seem to connect.

"Sure, sounds great. Let's get the hell outta Dodge, how bout?" And with that, we finished off our beers and headed out of the dimly lit club.

Just outside the door, Jim turned and said "I'm driving that white Ford F-250 over there. What are you driving?"

"That green Dodge Ram over by that wall."

"Ok, guess you can follow me."

In our trucks, I Sakarya Escort pulled up behind him, and we exited the parking lot, heading west. We drove about 2-3 miles, just outside of town, pulled onto a packed gravel road for another mile, and he pulled into a long drive, to a moderate-sized frame house. Even in the dark, I could tell it was pretty isolated, other houses only a half mile or more away. I pulled in behind him and got out.

"Well, this is my homestead. Was supposed to be the start of a small ranch, a dream I'd had all my life. But my ex kinda fucked that up when I caught her fucking her boss in town one day. So now it's all mine."

"Looks like a nice place, Jim. Peaceful and quiet, neighbors, but not too close. I think those are what I'd enjoy out here most."

"that's how I feel, too. I like it just fine. It's mine, and I can do what I want with it, and do whatever I want around here, not having to answer to anyone but myself. Know what I mean?"

Looking around, I could understand. Loving to get naked sometimes all day, this place would be perfect. "I do indeed. Don't know about you, but sometimes I like to get naked around the house, and stay that way all weekend."

Jim smiled, and looked as if he could identify with what I had said. "Come on in, let's grab a cold one, and rack 'em up." He unlocked the wooden door, and flicked on a couple of lights as we went inside.

Pointing at the sofa, he told me "have a seat, make yourself at home, and I'll grab the beer. I'm really laid back here, so really, make yourself at home." With that, he headed towards what I figured was the kitchen, hanging his cowboy hat on the deer antler rack. Glancing around the room, I really liked the décor. Large overstuffed couch and love seat. A rustic, log cabin feel to it, with the brown walls, and raw wood end tables, dark green lamps, and dark red