House of Pleasure

Butterscotch

I had this idea. I'd decided that I could make a living by buying a dude ranch and turning it into a wedding chapel. You know, a place where the happy couple could go get married with all the cowboy trimmings - trail rides and hay rides in a wagon for the wedding party, cookouts, and sing-alongs around the big campfire. We'd have cute little rooms for the guests and a honeymoon suite with a big bed and lots of pillows for the bride and groom. The whole thing would preferably be nestled on the side of a picturesque mountain with gorgeous scenery. Of course, the first step was to go find the perfect ranch to buy.

I made the rounds, visiting every dude ranch in the state that I thought might do. Many were just hanging on by a thread and could have been bought cheaply. But I wanted one with just the right combination of seasoned staff, a picturesque location, and a cozy atmosphere.

I met him at a ranch outside of Wellington. He was one of the riders for our little party, which consisted of a couple with their two little kids, a couple of teenage girls, and him. I bounced out of the stables, dressed in my official 'trail guide' outfit - boots, jeans, a western shirt in white and blue, and a big cowboy hat.

"Hi, everybody," I said brightly. "My name is Butterscotch." I was obviously quite used to the reaction that I got, because I good-naturedly laughed right along with everybody. "Yep. It's true. My daddy wanted to name me something sweet," I said brightly. I remember thinking that he had the sweetest smile I think I've ever seen. "I'm your trail guide today."

Since we were all expected to be paying attention to me, it was easy for me to drink in his good looks. We were in a circle around me as I gave them the rules (stay on the trail, don't get separated, no galloping - stuff like that). I couldn't have taken my eyes off of him if I'd wanted to. He was handsome, a real all-American cowboy - long and rangy, kind of like Clint Eastwood playing Rowdy Yates. He wore jeans and a western-style shirt, a blue plaid with pearlized buttons. His boots and hat had enough wear to give me hope that he actually knew his way around horses.

"You there, cowboy," I said, looking straight into his eyes. "What's your name?"

"Chance," he said. "Chance Buckman, ma'am."

I laughed and asked him if he had any riding experience. He teased me with a pause, then he looked me straight in the eye and answered slowly, "Yes, ma'am."

I blushed as I wondered whether he was making some kind of pass. Then I went back to work. I was comfortable with my role, getting everyone's names and introducing them to their horses. He was a light brown feisty mare named Caramel. It was obvious that the kids had never been on a horse before, and that Dad was pretending to know more than he did. But I kept up a stream of cheerful conversation and made them all comfortable and got everybody all mounted up in no time.

My goodness! That cowboy was so good-looking that I felt an immediate pleasurable tingle between my legs. Of course, I was halfway there already - the anticipation of a horse ride was usually all it took to get me started. But for a change, I'd be riding with someone that I was actually attracted to instead of the usual families and tourists.

He was long and rangy, kind of like Clint Eastwood playing Rowdy Yates. He wore jeans and a western-style shirt, a blue plaid with pearlized buttons. His boots and hat had enough wear to give me hope that he actually knew his way around horses, and I wasn't disappointed. Caramel was kind of skittish around kids, but he settled her down and was mounted before she knew what hit her.

I tried not to stare at him. Fortunately, I had plenty to do getting all those tenderfeet ready for their ride. I couldn't believe the libidinous thoughts that were already running through my head. As long as I'd been doing this, I hardly ever came across a real cowboy - somebody who could actually ride a horse. Never mind someone who looked this good in his Western clothes. I managed to keep from running over and throwing myself on him by keeping occupied, getting the rest of the party mounted up. Mounted? Did I dare hope? My God, where did that thought come from?

I could almost feel him staring at my butt as we began our ride. There's something very satisfying about having a man check you out. It makes you feel sexy and wanted. It's even more satisfying when you want him to. The sun was warm, but I was starting to generate my own internal heat, thank you very much.

As we slowly rode off up the mountain path with my little party trailing behind me, Chance maneuvered Caramel up next to me. "That's a gorgeous animal you have there," he said. He couldn't have said anything more endearing, because not only was Cupcake the best horse of the bunch, she was also my pride and joy. Chance didn't just look the part - he knew his horseflesh. I patted her on the neck and tried not to blush. I felt almost like he was complimenting me and not my horse.

"Yeah, she's my little baby." I looked at the trail and tried to come up with something witty to say, something sexy and inviting, but that didn't make me sound like a slut. I couldn't do it. I'm certain that my brain's failure had something to do with the moist tingling between my legs. Cupcake's gentle swaying had something to do with that, but I think it was more the lanky guy sitting on Caramel next to me.

The sun was warm as we rode through the woods, shining gently on us through the branches. The trail was just wide enough for two; the little trail party strung out behind us. Chance asked me to tell him more about Cupcake. When I spoke of my horse, there was so much affection in my voice that it was like I was a little girl on my first pony ride - a combination of pleasure and awe that tickled him no end. I may have been a trail guide for years, but I was a little girl at heart, and I still enjoyed my work.

Occasionally, I would turn back and ride up and down the line, making sure that everybody was enjoying themselves. I spoke to everyone and took extra time with the kids. My infectious joy at being outdoors riding Cupcake spread to everyone, and they were all having a grand old time. I was simply a great trail guide.

Caramel was a feisty little mare, and she tried to rub him off on a tree. But he tweaked her ear to let her know who the boss was, and she settled into the ride nicely.

I rode back to the front of the line as the trail narrowed, tipping my hat to him as I squeezed by, and we were forced to ride single file. He and Caramel were second in line, and I could feel his eyes on me.

There was some sexual tension between us, wasn't there? I was sure of it. God, he was cute.