Tuesday, 7 July 2015

Tuesday, July 07, 2015 -

Abby and the Wolf Creek Cowboys

by Christina Morino
Published: May 18, 2015
Words: 7,580
Category: western,erotica
Orientation: M/F
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Heads turned for two reasons as Abby walked into the small town bar: firstly, she was one attractive woman with her hourglass figure, dazzling blue eyes, and long red hair swinging jauntily in a ponytail; and secondly, she was clearly in one hell of a snit. Her eyes blazed with anger and frustration, and with her chin thrust out aggressively, her mouth was set in a firm unsmiling line. She approached the bar purposefully in a series of long strides, drawing attention to her shapely jean-clad legs and swaying hips, and as she perched on a bar stool the eyes of all the males (and some of the women) in the room focused on admiring the rear view of her full, round bottom.

As for the frontal view, the bartender's eyes were drawn to her chest. A pair of large breasts rose and fell with each breath, their owner wearing a white low cut t-shirt beneath a blue and white chequered shirt. With some reluctance, the bartender lifted his gaze and smiled appreciatively. But before he had chance to speak, the new arrival cut in.

"Get me a Jack Daniels." She fixed him with a frosty look. "Make it a double." She exhaled slowly, trying to calm herself and quell the rising feeling of panic.

"Comin' right up, ma'am." He slid the glass over the bar and watched as she downed the contents in three gulps. "Hey lady, you sure can drink your whiskey like a man." He meant it as a compliment but all his words merited was another icy glare.

"Same again." She fished in her back pocket and slammed a twenty dollar bill down. It was her last one. She swallowed.

"New in town, huh?"

"Yeah," she said noncommittally. Clutching her drink, she slid off the stool and moved to a small vacant table nearby. The bartender shrugged as Abby took a chair by the wall in a small recess where there was just one other table, occupied by two guys talking. One of them looked up at her approach and tipped the brim of his Stetson as he nodded and smiled.

"Hi," he said as he moved his chair, giving her more leg room.

"Hi. Thanks." She took another sip of her drink, annoyed that her hand was shaking as she held the glass. The two men resumed their conversation as Abby sat there wondering what the hell she should do next. The whiskey burned the back of her throat, and gradually a feeling of warmth suffused her whole body as she began to relax.

The bartender and most of the other customers in the bar turned their attention elsewhere, and after a few minutes, the redhead sitting quietly in the corner recess was pretty much forgotten - except by the two men sitting close by. They observed her agitation as she clenched her fingers repeatedly, her anger fading into something like despair as she stared disconsolately at her empty glass, her face pale, her blue eyes brim full of tears that threatened to spill over.