Buck Me Cowboy

But I can’t act the dirty mofo just yet, it’s too early, even with all that’s happened. So I grin at her, and she smiles shyly back.

“So what do you do, Tyler?”

She emphasizes my name as if she’s trying it out for size, tasting it on her lips.

“I’m a farm hand. I travel around looking for work,” comes my reply grunt, glancing up to see her reaction. Surprisingly Maisie doesn’t judge when I tell her I’m a laborer, which surprises me. Most chicks these days want billionaires, tech CEOs, and fancy banker shit. I’m just a cowboy, a dude who works with his hands, rough and calloused. They’ll make a female scream, but no, I don’t do calculators.

“Really?” she asks, cocking her head to the side.

“Yeah really,” I grunt.

“Oh,” she says with a smile. “That’s a great job because my Pa started as a traveling ranch hand before settling down and buying this place. I’ve never trusted business guys,” she says with a shudder. “They’re like snake oil salesmen, sharks in suits.”

I almost laugh then because shit, I went to college and got my degree, even if I’m not using it. But she doesn’t have to know.

“Yeah,” I toss off nonchalantly. “Never understood how someone could be indoors all day.”

Maisie nods, cheeks flushing.

“I know, me neither,” she adds softly. “Away from the land, from the wind, the crops, the animals. All they ever do is stare at computer screens,” she said with a shake of her head. “I don’t know how anyone lives like that.”

Well, this wouldn’t be the time to get into my background. Because yeah, I work on a farm now, but it wasn’t always this way. Once upon a time, I was a man of letters, the dude with the briefcase and fancy watch. But clearly Maisie doesn’t like that type, so I change the subject.

“This is delicious. Thanks so much for whipping this up, you’ll have to give me your special recipe,” I compliment.

The brunette blushes, looking down before looking back up at me, a teasing smile on her lips. She’s sweet in a way that’s refreshing, so unlike a lot of the hos I hooked up with in the city.

“No thanks necessary, cowboy. So what brings you around these parts? How’d you come to be on my property?”

My brain buzzes. Frankly, the truth would have her run screaming, and I can’t take that chance. Not now that I’ve seen how her boobs heave, how her ass wiggles, how she craves my cock. Not now that I’ve seen how she’s able to take my full ten-inch pole in one swallow. Will her pussy be able to do the same? I have to find out.

So I lie like a mofo.

“Riding by, looking for work,” I grunt. “Damned horse saw a bee and bolted.”

“Really?” she asks curiously, tilting her head. “The horse wasn’t broken in? Bees are pretty commonplace in these parts.”

Aw shit, how to explain this? My brother swore up and down that colt was tame, but clearly, he was mistaken. So I made up a stupid story.

“It was broken in, but you know how these things go. Colt thinks he’s a racehorse, not some farm animal. Probably smelled a mare in heat a mile away,” I lie smoothly. “I’m gonna whip the shit out of him when I find him. If I find him,” I add, frowning, indicating my leg.

She nods knowingly.

“Oh yeah, when my cow is in heat, every bull for acres around is restless. One even charged over here from ten miles away, looking for Betsy, can you believe it? It was funny,” she giggled. “Because she hated him on sight, my little cow sat down and wouldn’t even look his way.”

Shit. How in the world had we gotten onto the mating habits of animals? The topic alone made me hard. But Maisie continues, innocent and beautiful.

“How are you going to get around without your horse?” she asks curiously. “How are you gonna get to your next job?”

Good question. Very perceptive.

“Well I can’t,” I drawl, leaning back in my chair. “Especially not with this bum leg. Besides, I need to repay you in some way,” I begin and watch as she scrunches her nose in confusion. “You saved my life, and it’s the least I can do,” I explain. “Honey, this place is in a bad state. There’s a shit ton to be done around here, and I’d be happy to help. Like your sink,” I point to the dripping faucet before adding, “I can fix that. And that cabinet needs to be realigned. Your barn door needs to be re-hinged, and that porch re-done. It’s amazing someone hasn’t stepped through the damn thing already.”

“You would do that?”

She perks up and I want to tell her I’ll fix everything, but I don’t want to let on. Not now, not so early.