Sixth Generation Cowboy And A Third Generation WhoreChapter 5: Rekindling The Fire free porn video

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1715 Hours (5:15 PM) Mountain Standard Time, Monday 16 April 2012

Downtown Denver, Colorado

Upon arriving at the Denver 24 Hour Fitness gym closest to Ted’s Montana Grill, I placed my button down shirt, slacks, and sport coat, into the garment bag from the ranch. From the go bag I brought from Quantico, I grabbed a USMC PT shirt and shorts, athletic shoes, and my shaving kit, and added them to the garment bag. Ensuring my rental 2012 Ford Edge was locked, I strode into the gym, raring for a strenuous workout. I figured it would be just the thing to help clear my mind before getting together with Loni Hellström.

I guess they don’t see many Marines in Denver. I got plenty of stares on my way to the locker room; not many of them friendly. A few minutes later, when I started my warm up routine, I got even more stares. Mostly at my snazzy titanium and polymer lower left leg. Pumping iron helped me push back many of my concerns. The endorphins muted the twinges of pain and stiffness from protracted traveling. By the time I finished with a long hot shower I was feeling much better. Out in the parking lot I stored everything in the back of the Ford Edge, and ensured the privacy panel was in place. With firearms in my rental vehicle, I didn’t want anything to attract car prowlers.

I parked as close as I could to the entrance to Ted’s Montana Grill, then sent a text to Loni letting her know I had arrived. I was fifteen minutes early. While I was standing in the shadows, scouting the terrain, and observing for snipers, IEDs, or whatever; Loni texted for me to meet her in the bar. Walking to the door, I reconsidered my resistance to obtaining a disability parking placard. When I met Loni in the bar, she urged me to get a drink while we were waiting. I asked for Glenmorangie Quinta Ruban, and Loni ordered another “Eruption” something with Canadian whiskey and a cherry. Before our drinks arrived, the hostess led us to our table; a waitress brought our drinks to us.

After the hostess left us with our menus, Loni said, “Order what you want, within reason, this is on Uncle Sam.”

“Playing fast and loose with an agency credit card,” I teased her.

She blushed, and said, “tonight is supposed to be a working dinner, however, most of the guys claim that they were going to meet with C.I.s or some such. I figure what’s good for the gander, is good for the goose.”

“I can’t argue against that. Besides, in the ‘Stan, it’s not unheard of for OGA’s to pocket a couple of bundles of hundred dollar bills to take to a meeting with tribal elders. Not all of that money ended up in the pockets of tribal elders,” I told her.

She quirked an eyebrow, and said, “OGA’s?”

“Other Government Agency. CIA, mostly, but they could be DEA, Contractors, DIA, NSA, or even Feebs,” I said, and winked.

Loni grinned, and said, “Just to keep this on the up and up, I’ll tell you the Marines should be aware that MS13 is expanding their presence in the USA.”

“Should that be of concern to Quantico?” I asked, semi-seriously.

She replied, “Of course. You know it’s not just Marines at Quantico. We have a presence too. As do some other agencies. However, what I have been hearing lately might concern your family. As I recall your folks live in a pretty isolated area. Although these bad boys are focusing mostly south of Denver, they are constantly expanding northwards. Drugs, guns, human trafficking, home invasions, and other violent crimes. These are very scary dudes! Many get their whole bodies, even their faces tattooed. Subtle they are not. Nor do they like to leave live witnesses.”

“These aren’t Mexicans, they’re Columbians, or something, right?” I asked, only mildly interested.

Loni said, “No. Originally they were Salvadorans living in Los Angeles, California. They spread back to El Salvador, Honduras, and Guatemala. They have spread to Mexico, and now Texas and Colorado. I don’t think the Marines have had to deal with them much. Maybe they get alerts at Twenty Nine Palms. SEALs, and Green Berets from Seventh Group are a little more involved. Enough talking business.”

She continued, “How are you doing?”

“Oh, okay. You know ... actually, I hope you don’t. Losing your family is tough,” I said.

Loni looked down, took a big swallow from her drink, and replied, “It’s just mom and me. Ever since I joined the Marines, we’ve been sort of estranged. She never wanted me to join up, let alone deploy. She was proud, I guess, when I graduated from the academy. She came to my graduation. It seems she respects the Feebs more than the Marines. We don’t talk much.”

“Gramps was really proud of me. He razzed me about switching to the Marines. Both he and my dad retired as Sergeants Major from the Army. Cavalry. Buffalo Soldiers! I’m the sixth generation. Only Gramps and my dad were professional soldiers. My other ancestors served a hitch or two, then became cowboys. My Great Great Great Grandfather John Randall was the originator of our line. Before that they were slaves, I suppose, but for all I know they were free Negros.” I told her.

Continuing my family history, I explained, “Great Grandpa Amos Randall joined the Army, and served in the Southwest with General Pershing. Lieutenant Patton, a future General, was his Troop Leader, during the Mexican Expedition. He got out when the Army was being massively downsized after World War One. He was a Top Hand. What most folks call Cowboys, they are properly called Ranch Hands, or just Hands, the owners are Cattle Men. Unlike most of his peers he didn’t drink or gamble his money away. At the beginning of the Great Depression, he seized and opportunity and bought Big Boulder Creek Ranch.”

“That’s not an official name. Colored Folks were careful back then about being considered uppity. A Black Man owning a ranch was a mite unusual. It helped that he was a Top Hand, and had a good reputation. He was generous to the folks in the area too.” I said.

Loni was rapt, when I wound down, she said, “you know so much about your family. Mom’s family is German, I can’t recall if they immigrated before the First World War, or the Second. My Dad’s family is Swedish, they’ve lived in the Seattle area for more than a hundred years. Mom lives in Ballard, that’s a neighborhood north of downtown Seattle. We lost touch with his family when my parents divorced in ninety six. He was a crab fisherman, and went missing when his boat sank in Alaskan waters five years ago. He always called me Daddy’s Little Girl, but I hadn’t seen him much for a decade before he died.”

We both sat silently for a bit, finished our drinks, then Loni asked, “How about the rest of your family? I thought you said your dad didn’t like living on the ranch. He lives in Denver I think you said? Is your younger brother deployed or did he get out?”

I looked in my empty glass before saying, “My father died a couple of years ago. Cancer. Probably from Agent Orange in Vietnam. My mom died in a car accident two winters after we met. Grandma died a couple of years ago. The flu. Influenza kills up to a hundred thousand people a year, most people don’t really realize that. My older brother, James Junior was in Building Two of the World trade Center on September Eleventh. They recovered his graduation ring. My younger brother, John, named after my ancestor who fought in the civil war, he was a Ranger. He was KIA in The ‘Stan in Oh-Eight. It’s just me now.”

Before she could respond, I added, “My Uncle Jacob LeBeau, my Father’s half-brother. He lives in Denver. There’s his mom, too. I guess.”

The void that followed was relieved by our waitress bringing our meals and drinks. We had ordered earlier, during a break in the conversation. Both of us chose a specialty of the house, Bison meat, she chose Bison meatloaf, and I chose the brisket. Loni selected the house merlot, and I got a porter from a local micro-brewery. The food was better than I expected, and our conversation shifted to more pleasant topics. She had a Kahlua brownie, and I had cheesecake topped with wild berries; we both enjoyed a snifter of brandy.

By the time we finished desert, we were both smiling, Loni smothered a giggle, and she blushed when she asked me, “Would you join me for a night cap?”

“I would enjoy that very much. I must ask if you are sure? Might this result in complications, if your colleagues see me?” I stated.

She was blushing brightly, and admitted, “I was hoping you would want to spend the night with me, so I reserved a suite at a different hotel than where they are staying. Foolish of me, because I didn’t consider that you might be staying with your family.”

Loni had taken a taxi here, so we were walking to my rental vehicle, when I told her, “Lucky you. An explosion knocked my home off its foundation, so I was going to spend the night in a dinky hotel. Alone.”

“What? An Explosion! I thought you said your grandfather died of a heart attack.” Loni exclaimed.

I opened the passenger door for her, offering her a hand; I had a moment to collect my thoughts as I went around and got behind the wheel, before I replied, “It’s confusing. Disturbing, actually. From what I was told he called 9-1-1 from the kitchen, however, that part of the house was severely damaged by an explosion. Neither my uncle, nor I have been told much. My uncle is a lawyer with a locally prominent law firm. He told me he has an investigator looking in to it.”

She gave me the address, and while I was entering it into the GPS, she said, “If you want, I can look into it using some resources and influence of the FBI. Unofficially, of course.”

As I began driving, I told her, “You probably shouldn’t. I would refuse you outright, however, an hour after I arrived in Nederland, the county sheriff came to my table in a local diner. He said he was just paying his respects. I love my grandpa, and he had earned the respect of some of his fellow ranchers and others in the community. But unless they had a connection, I’m not aware of, I don’t know why the sheriff would make an hour round trip just to speak to me.”

Loni said, “that’s extremely odd. The sheriff? How would he even know if you were in town? Don’t they notify service members of a death in the family through the Red Cross, not the sheriff’s office? Or is it different in rural areas?”

I told her, “We are in Boulder County, which is almost a suburb of Denver, although the western part of the county is kind of remote. Ward, the nearest town, has a population of a hundred and fifty, Nederland, in the opposite direction is significantly bigger, but still a small town. Gramps was a regular at Ned’s, the restaurant where I had my second breakfast, and I was greeted by name. There was a sheriff’s deputy eating his breakfast when I came in. but that doesn’t explain Why the sheriff would want to keep tabs on me.”

“Has your grandfather had any difficulties with either criminals, or possibly law enforcement, or government officials?” She asked.

I told her, “I doubt it. He sold of his cattle herd nearly a decade ago. A couple years later he sold most of the horses, and the bulls. He leases out the grazing rights to some nearby ranchers. Also, some other small deals, like Christmas trees.”

“Might he keep his problems from you?” Loni asked.

I shook my head, and said, “Unlikely. Maybe when I was first wounded. I’ve been in physical therapy for months before they fitted me for a prosthetic. I’m still in the Marine Corps Wounded Warrior Regiment. Since I’ve been back from The ‘Stan, we talked on the phone kind of regularly. Now I wish we had talked even more, or I had taken some of my leave. He knew I was reconsidering finishing my twenty. Gramps wanted me to continue the family tradition, and make the BBC a working ranch again. He wouldn’t push me, but he might have nudged me. He would have told me if there was some kind of threat.”

Loni nodded, but didn’t respond to my assertations. She asked me to drop her off at the main entrance, so she could check in while I parked. I chose to park in the garage, I didn’t want to walk by the front desk with a gun bag. I slung the gun bag over my left shoulder, so that it rested on my right side; if necessary, I could access either the shotgun or pistol. I slung my laptop bag over my right shoulder, and carried my go bag from Quantico in my left hand. I left my uniform in the Ford Edge. Just as I arrived at the elevator, Loni texted me her room number.

I didn’t encounter anyone in the elevator, nor the hallway; Loni opened the door as soon as I knocked, and she grinned, and said, “Looks like you are moving in.”

Shrugging my shoulders, I muttered, “all things considered, I didn’t want to leave either my guns, nor my computer in the rental.”

Soberly, Loni said, “Guns? No, it’s not a good idea to leave them in a vehicle. You might be surprised how many weapons are stolen from the vehicles of law enforcement officers every year. Even Feds. Are you legal? Or am I going to have to cuff you?”

“I don’t swing that way. So, it’s a good thing I have a valid concealed weapons permit from the state of Colorado. If you pull out some handcuffs, you’ll end up wearing them, because I recall a little girl who enjoys being restrained,” I said with a leer.

“Show me.” Loni said.

“Break out your cuffs,” I taunted her.

Loni pouted for a moment, then burst into giggles, and said. “No. Show me your firearms. I expected even your rental SUV would have a gun rack, Cattle Man. See Cowboy, I was listening! Seriously, I’m more adept with weapons since we last met. I am interested in learning what firearms you choose to carry off duty.”

As I set my bags down, I teased her, saying, “Show me yours, and I will show you mine!”

Loni drew a Sig P229 from a discrete holster on the back of her right hip, she ejected the magazine, then pulled the slide back and caught the ejected round; she observed the chamber, then handed it to me, smirking as she said, “Show me yours.”

Laughing seemed to make her angry, until I unzipped my bag, and pulled my Sig P229 from the shoulder holster. I cleared my pistol too, then we exchanged weapons. Her pistol was chambered for .40 S&W also. Not surprising, actually; the caliber was developed at the request of the FBI after the Feds decided the 10mm pistol cartridge was too big. Performance was what they desired in the aftermath of an ill-fated gun battle in Miami in 1986 between two serial bank robbers and a dozen FBI agents, resulting in the death of several of the good guys. Unfortunately, the modified M1911A1 pistol designed to use 10mm ammo had a grip too big for many FBI agents, especially female agents. I noticed there was no government serial number, it was probably Loni’s personal weapon.

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Introductory Information – Not necessary to understand the story but I recommend reading it. This story is set in Jamaica where there is a different educational system from the United States. Anyone from the UK will probably be familiar with it as Jamaica shares more or less the same system as the UK has. In Jamaica there is no Junior High, High School starts in 7th grade (Called ‘First Form’ in Jamaica.) and carries on through 11th grade (Called ‘Fifth Form’) which is Senior Year. Sixth Form...

3 years ago
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Down and Dirty Cowboy

My name is Bridget, I am twenty-nine years old, and I have just wasted five years of my life on a no-account man. I worked two jobs to put his ass through law school and as soon as he passed the bar, he dumped me.Daryl decided that the boss’s daughter would make a better trophy wife. It has been a month, I have licked my wounds, and tonight I have decided to prowl and find me a down and dirty cowboy who will rock my world, make me scream when I orgasm, and give me more than vanilla sex.Yes, I...

Hardcore
3 years ago
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The Cowboy and the Widow

Summer 2015 Castle Texas 8AM 35 year old newly retired Rodeo Bull Rider Adam Rogers is on the way to a job interview, when he gets to his destination he parks his Ford F-150 Pickup truck near the driveway of the house where his future boss lived. He got out of his truck grabbed the file folder that contains his work history which included his 8 years of active duty U.S. Army Service and his 10 years as a Rodeo Bull rider. After he had the folder in his hand he closes the truck door and walks...

2 years ago
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The Gentle Cowboy

Dear Readers, I am still working on the Jungle Man series. I have a few chapters that I am tweaking on Manolito and Clara. However, this story was something that I just wrote. It seemed to just flow and I went with it. I will not forget about my other story. Life has been hectic and now I am on a break with lots of time to devote to tying up loose ends. Hope you enjoy Jake and Daisy. * The Gentle Cowboy Jake McKean was done. Done fucking prostitutes. Done drinking himself to sleep because...

4 years ago
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Andersonville 23 A Twinkle in her Fathers Eyes

Flashback - 11 months earlier (Author's notes - the intro takes place 'right after' Andersonville 6) There were fifteen men and women crowded into the small conference area. As Colonel Myers surveyed the room, he noticed most of them, the programmers anyway, were about half his age. Barry shook his head; he was getting old. His goal was to make general before he retired, and the Andersonville project had seemed like the best way to increase his chances. The problem was, he had...

2 years ago
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Cowboy Ch 2

I yearned to meet this rough and ready cowboy again, and have him take me beyond the conventional sexual adventures. Let’s face it, I wanted to fuck him, again, because it brought out that naughty side in me. I wasn’t planning on leaving my aunts home for another two weeks. Surely we would meet once more; unfortunately, due to his schedule that second encounter never happened. He did come and say goodbye that morning I left for home. How can I find the man of my dreams, only to...

1 year ago
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My Cowboy My Heart

Man this sucked! I was stranded in the middle of nowhere. Farmington, TX. That’s the last sign that I had passed. This was the town that my Uncle was supposed to own a ranch in. According to my directions I had another thirty miles to go… and now my old truck had finally given up on me. I cussed myself for not taking mom up on her offer of bringing her new Lexus for the trip. But how would it look if I showed up on a ranch in a Lexus? It was raining. No, scratch that, it was pouring. Thick...

3 years ago
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My meeting with Cowboy Daddy Lewis

I'm a straight acting guy that has a lust for older chubby daddies that are masculine acting and wears rugged cowboy clothes . A well worn cowboy hat with sweat stains around the brim ,leather vest ,Levi jeans , and scuffed up leather boots are what turns me on the most !My Cowboy Daddy/Grandpa must have a chubby solid belly , strong hands , and a kind face with " friendly " eyes . If he looks like John Wayne ,Ed Asner, or Wilford Brimly I'll be putty in his hands !!! ...

2 years ago
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I Want To Ride A Cowboy

 I Want To Ride A Cowboy My car is broken down in a lonely spot out on a country road. I am wearing my black fishnet stockings with suspenders up to my crotch, with my cherry-red mini micro skirt riding my smooth tight arse, and my lacy see-through black top with no bra; my favorite knee-high, lace-up boots completing my slutty look.I am wondering what do when I glance over into a paddock. A nice-looking man is fixing fencing; he looks like a cowboy with all the gear. A dark blue, checked shirt...

Quickie Sex
2 years ago
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Cowboy Up

I met Christine at a seminar on Industrial Relations. It was mostly bullshit from people who had never held a tool in their hands and had no real world experience. They were full theories that they had learned from textbooks, but my company was paying the freight so there I was. When we broke for lunch I headed for the hotel restaurant. I stopped at the bathroom to take a whiz and when I got to the restaurant I found that all the seats were taken and the greeter told me there was at least a...

1 year ago
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Cowboy WayChapter 2

Essentially what you have here at your service is a story telling cowboy with a masters in business administration. However, I can only certify one of the three aforementioned requisites that being Masters degree in Business Administration. The accuracy of my claim at being a story teller or a cowboy is still to be tested. I say, pon my word, a mystery wrapped inside a mystery, covered by a veil has been set down and neither I in my guise of story teller or cowboy will reveal it. Those of...

1 year ago
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I fucked a grandma that was my grandpas whore

There was a 70 year old grandma that moved in right next to my apartment, I was 18 at the time and my grandpa was 74. I lived with my grandpa at the time. The old grandma would come to talk to my grandpa each day, she would keep teasing him, she would flirt with him, she tried to seduce him. My grandpa ignored her at first but then he started flirting with her after a couple days. I once came out of my apartment only to see her sucking his dick outside on the porch while he was touching her...

2 years ago
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The United Kingdom of Zoo A fake BBC documentary seriesS10E17 Ashley Mathews 29 from Newcastle Northern Ireland

This week’s show begins with that same old rusty bedstead, and that same old dirty mattress. Pausing to take in the magnificent filthiness of it, then pulling back to reveal the bare concrete floor around it, and to take in the harsh lighting. And then we hear our guest of the week approaching, quick little footsteps ... Light clicks on the studio floor. We pan round to see what we’ve got this week and see a slight, pale, small-boobed lady walking in quick, short strides ... She’s not is a...

3 years ago
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The Cowboy and the Schoolgirl

(Part one) Morning Memory Katie glanced out her classroom window and noticed the ominous clouds darkening the afternoon skies. This 18-year-old high school senior jerked involuntarily when a blaze of lightening streaked to the ground. Big Sky country was what Montana was called and a big sky storm was brewing. When her 12th grade history teacher resumed his droning, boring lecture, Katie’s mind returned to its meandering memories of what had happened before breakfast this morning. She had...

2 years ago
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Island of Hernando Rodriguez

He watched them as they sat sipping their colorful drinks and flirting with male guests and hotel employees alike at the Garden Cloud Lounge. They were undoubtedly four sisters, all in their late twenties and thirties, and attractive. They were obviously American, and they laughed as they tried what little Spanish they knew on the young waiters. He had seen groups like this many times. Their often affluent husbands allowed them to have "Girl's Time Off" now and then. It worked out on both...

2 years ago
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Catherine and Alexander

Catherine and Alexander by: Bruce Leach Although the children never knew it times had been rough in the castle. Their father, the Duke of Beaufort, had in recent days made a number of unfortunate alliances that put not only his fortune but his entire properties and even his own life in jeopardy. In these days after the king's death the wrong friends could mean accusations of treachery and the Duke had made all the wrong friends. Things looked bleak until he had an...

3 years ago
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The fucking Cowboy Short Story

Sue Miller, 26, a vetenerrian student in a country town, is still searching for the right relationship. She is well built and she knows that. But she still can't accept the fact that her body does attract men more than her sharp intellect. That's why she plays hard-to-get and therefor gets it hard! And that reflects clearly out of her sexual fantasies as you see: I'm angry on my late way home. My new boyfriend kicked me out of his car after an argument. He said, that I was cold and selfish -...

4 years ago
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The Cowboy

She had been walking through the woods, the fall colors blazing through the branches of the trees. Peaceful and quiet, she let the cool fall breeze clear all thoughts of her lonely, unhappy life. As she rounded the curve of a trail she was on, she noticed a man sitting on the bench up ahead. He had on a brown cowboy hat, a flannel shirt, tight blue jeans, and black cowboy boots. He was watching her as she approached."Hello, cowboy.”"Hi, good looking”Blushing, she asked, "How are you today?”He...

Outdoor
2 years ago
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Andrea On Her Own Part 3 of Andreas Stand

Andrea On Her Own (Part 3 of Andrea's Stand) A Note Before: If you have not read parts 1 and 2, please go back and do so. I have spent some time trying to develop the characters involved and a brief description of the plot so far will not help you much. Chapter 1: Needing More I leaned back in my chair and stretched. It had been a long hour and a half finishing the homework from my calc. class. As I stretched I felt the sweater pressing against the breast forms and glanced...

2 years ago
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Nandini Deshpande 8211 Part 1Introduction

This introduction story is based on true events. All the characters mentioned are above the age of 18. For personal reasons, the names of the characters have been changed. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The writer does not believe in any kind of discrimination or disrespect towards women. The story has been written for sexual satisfaction and should be held in the same regard. “Aah!” Nandini moaned as my thick member entered her...

Incest
3 years ago
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Nandini Deshpande 8211 Part 1Introduction

This introduction story is based on true events. All the characters mentioned are above the age of 18. For personal reasons, the names of the characters have been changed. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The writer does not believe in any kind of discrimination or disrespect towards women. The story has been written for sexual satisfaction and should be held in the same regard. “Aah!” Nandini moaned as my thick member entered her...

Incest
2 years ago
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Swami Ghoshal 8211 Anand Ka 8220Santansukh Garbha Mandir8221

Sant Ghoshal-Anand Goswami ‘pahunche huye’ siddh purush ya mahatma hn.Sundar Van ke ghane jungle me Aadiwasi basti se sata unka ‘Slddhashram’ h.swami ji vese to Raam Bhakti ki rasik shakha Sakhi Sampraday ke bhakt hn lekin vo Shiv Bhagvan ke nagn rup ke upasak bhi hn.Isi liye unke Ashram me ghuste hi ek sundar Shiva Ling sthaapit milta h. kaha jata h ki yeh ”Swaymbhu Lingam” h, arthat iska nirman kisi kaarigar ne nahin kiya, ye to uska apne aap bana prakritik rup h.ye nitya ling h. Swami ji ke...

2 years ago
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Is the Cowboy straight

Hi, I'm Sam. I'm 34, 6'1", athletic build, 165 pounds, and gay. I work for a company that puts on conferences all across the United States. I travel every week to a different city making conferences happen for different groups/companies. As such, my life is living out of a suitcase, hotel rooms, and meeting lots of interesting people. This is a TRUE story of one of the many times I've met people "out on the road"!I was in Chicago putting on a conference dealing with the farming industry. As...

4 years ago
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Mandys sickest stories Mandy reloaded

Mandy's sickest stories - Mandy reloadedAuthor: SickoChickMandyAuthor's email: mandydarkfantasies [at] gmail [dot] comTags: F/f, torture, snuff, feet, nc, cannibalismProofread by EmmaPNote, that English is not my native language, so my writing will surely have many grammatical and syntax errors just as improper usage of expressions. I can only hope someone will still find it exciting. Be aware, this is graphic, brutal and extreme. I read it after writing and scared of myself.DisclaimerThis...

1 year ago
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The Kringle Sisters Are Ready for ChristmasChapter 2 Gunther the Reindeer Handler Gets Laid

Jingle bells! Jingle bells! Jingle all the way! The sound of the holiday song hit Gunther's ears like an ice drift on the open sea. He tried to open his booze-laden eyes to see who was making the racket and saw it was the blasted elves again. Those holiday-enthused cretins were so full of Christmas spirit that they made a nuisance at this time of year as far back as he could remember. He wanted to shout out for them to cease and desist before he made them into little pieces of elves all...

4 years ago
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Andrew Running Part 1 of Andreas Stand

Andrew Running (part 1 of Andrea's Stand) Chapter 1: Running I called my Aunt Clara from the bus station. She didn't seem that surprised to hear from me and when I explained why I was there she told me to walk a couple of blocks to the local diner and get myself a cup of coffee. She'd pick me up in about half an hour. I sat and sipped chocolate milk and tried to eat a pastry while I glanced nervously out of the window waiting for my father to show up and force me into his...

2 years ago
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The Lady and the Cowboy Ch 04

The excuse I had used yesterday about being ill proved to be useful today, although I doubted I even needed an excuse to lie in bed as I had been doing since I returned from my afternoon with Tripp. I was a train wreck, and everyone could see it. ‘Are you sure there’s nothing I can get for you?’ my mom asked in that sweet, caring voice mothers use when their children are sick. ‘Yes, I just want to lie here,’ I said, half-groaning, wedged between my pillow and the covers of the bed. In all...

3 years ago
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The Lady and the Cowboy Ch 02

It was just my luck that I would see him again the next day, bright and early. Lucy had wanted to go on a morning trail ride, and, being the nice daughter that I was, I let my parents sleep in and went with her. There were about fifteen of us riding up a mountain trail, and Lucy rode beside me on her white and brown pinto. Now although I had lived for almost twenty years, the closest thing I had ever ridden to a horse was a little pony at the petting zoo when I was six. To say I was...

2 years ago
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The Gentle Cowboy Ch 04

Sorry about the wait, but the fourth chapter is finally to my liking. Let me know what you think! Enjoy. ********** ‘Yea, Mom. I’m really going to marry Jake McKean. Kinda crazy, huh?’ Grabbing her daughter’s hand, Donna half led, half dragged her to the kitchen table. ‘Now dish, Daisy. Tell me how it happened, where and everything. What did he say? How did he ask?’ she demanded in a rush. ‘Uhhh…’ Unsure that the truth was the best answer in this situation, Daisy began slowly, ‘Well… In the...

1 year ago
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Candys Dandy

by Millie Dynamite Jaden and I meet a few weeks after he transferred to the Naval base just outside of town. I sat on a bar stool sipping my Pappy Van Winkle when this tall African-American man in full dress uniform sat next to me. He whore captain’s bars. He possessed an air of authority. I nodded to him when perched on the next stool. He returned my nod with his own acknowledgment, in a deep voice he said, “Yo.” He spoke without looking at me. “I’ll have bourbon, make it a shot of Evan...

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