How To Catch a Cowgirl | Lesbian Western, PT 5: A Handful

Anna smiled into her beer. “I was a handful when I was younger. Maybe a few of them knew me then.”

“I’d say they did,” Tamsan said. “They’ve been waiting for you to go off the rails since you got here.”

“Well I’d hate to disappoint them,” Anna said. “What should I do? Dance naked on the table? Set a trash can on fire? Rustle a couple head of cattle?”

“I wouldn’t recommend any of those options,” Tamsan said, a hint of sternness sneaking back into her tone. “You can have fun without being a hot mess.”

“What are your suggestions then?”

Tamsan beckoned Anna forward and lowered her voice to a sultry drawl. “You could kiss me.”

Anna’s eyes widened. She wanted to kiss Tamsan, but the direct approach left her somewhat on the back foot. Her lips parted once, twice as she tried to find the words. Then it didn’t matter anymore. It didn’t matter because Tamsan had reached forward, hooked her fingers inside Anna’s shirt and drawn her forward into a warm, soft kiss which made Anna’s sense and objections and thoughts melt into a hot honey goo which trickled down her spine and settled in her loins.

She was swooning when Tamsan broke the kiss and smiled softly. “Or I could kiss you.”

“Mhm, again,” Anna murmured, moving forward to contact Tamsan’s mouth again. The woman tasted like salt and lust, lightly tinged with beer. She kissed as competently as she rode, with assuredness and care which Anna could feel in every motion of her lips and tongue.

The kiss broke, but the spell did not. Anna was completely and utterly smitten. She gazed at Tamsan with a dopey expression.

“Wow,” she drawled. “I forgot what a kiss could be like.”

An indulgent smile spread across Tamsan’s face, resulting in two sexy dimples. “Or maybe those fancy city dykes didn’t know how to kiss a girl properly.”

“Maybe,” Anna conceded.

They kissed again. And again. And then Tamsan’s hand was sliding up under Anna’s shirt, cupping her breast over the soft fabric of her bra. And then it was sliding down the soft plane of Anna’s stomach and sliding below the band of her jeans.

Anna took a breath, waiting for Tamsan’s strong, capable fingers to reach the spot that burned for them. But they didn’t. They paused tantalizingly at Anna’s pubic bone.

“Your place or mine?”

“Mine’s closer,” Tamsan said.

Eager to adjourn somewhere more comfortable, Tamsan and Anna went around hand in hand to get the horses.

“You can come up on Cameron with me,” Tamsan said. “You’ve got enough trouble with that horse of yours when you’re sober.”

Anna didn’t argue. Tamsan helped her up, then slid behind her, wrapping one protective arm about her waist. Tex seemed happy to follow their lead, plodding along in their wake as they turned toward the Clusky’s place.

As they rode, the arm around Anna’s waist slid down lower and Tamsan’s fingers brushed across Anna’s jean clad crotch. The pressure was light, but enough to excite. With every step the horse took her clit also rubbed against the seam of her pants. By the time they got back to Tamsan’s cabin she was brimming with need.