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 her at a ranch outside of Wellington. She was the trail guide for our little party, which consisted of a couple with their two little kids, a couple of teenage girls, and me. She bounced out of the stables, dressed in her official 'trail guide' outfit - boots, jeans, a western shirt in white and blue and a big cowboy hat.
"Hi, everybody," she said brightly. "My name is Butterscotch." She was obviously quite used to the reaction that she got, because she good-naturedly laughed right along with everybody. "Yep. It's true. My daddy wanted to name me something sweet," she said brightly. I remember thinking that she 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 her, it was easy for me to drink in her good looks. We were in a circle around her as she gave us the rules (stay on the trail, don't get separated, no galloping - stuff like that). Having heard them all at the other ranches I'd visited, I wasn't really paying attention to her words. But I couldn't have taken my eyes off of her if I'd wanted to. She was pretty, a real all-American cowgirl - long dark hair, a shy smile and brown eyes that sparkled brightly in the morning light.
"You there - cowboy," she said, looking straight into my eyes. What's your name?"
"Chance," I said. "Chance Buckman, ma'am."
Butterscotch laughed and asked me if I had any riding experience. I teased her with a pause, then I looked her straight in the eye and answered slowly, "Yes, ma'am."
I got a blush out of her as she wondered whether I was making some kind of pass. Then she went back to work. She was comfortable with her role, getting everyone's names and introducing them to their horses. Mine 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 Butterscotch 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 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 been 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. I asked Butterscotch to tell me more about Cupcake. When she spoke of her horse there was so much affection in her voice that it was like she was a little girl on her first pony ride - a combination of pleasure and awe that tickled me no end. Butterscotch may have been a trail guide for years, but she was a little girl at heart and she still enjoyed her work.
Occasionally she would turn back and ride up and down the line, making sure that everybody was enjoying themselves. She spoke to everyone and took extra time with the kids. Her infectious joy at being outdoors riding Cupcake spread to everyone, and they were all having a grand old time. Butterscotch was simply a great trail guide.
Caramel was a feisty little mare, and she tried to rub me off on a tree. But I tweaked her ear to let her know who the boss was, and she settled into the ride nicely.
Butterscotch rode back to the front of the line as the trail narrowed, tipping her hat to me as she squeezed by and we were forced to ride single file. Caramel and I were second in line, and I spent some time with a fine view of our guide's ass swaying sensually with Cupcake's motion. She filled out those jeans so nicely - her butt was so taut and firm, gently rocking back and forth. I began to harden, and I had to laugh at myself as I realized that I was becoming jealous of a horse!
There was some sexual tension between us, wasn't there? I was sure of it. God she was cute. It was hard to even think about the beauty of the trail when I had Butterscotch's ass to watch. But what to do about it? I pondered the possibilities as we rode along, enjoying the enticing motion of her undulating bottom way more than the other scenery.
After a while of rambling gently through the woods we came to a small clearing. Butterscotch called a halt to the ride, and had everyone dismount.
