Triple D Dude Ranch
By Beverly Ovalle
Published by Secret Cravings Publishing
October 4, 2014
Blaire is a freelance photographer on assignment. She is heading home to Texas, armed with her camera to do a photo feature for the Tribune. Taking photos of the dude ranch, she gets an eyeful of an uninhibited cowboy through her lens. The summer heat of Texas has nothing on the heat he generates in her.
Dan was expecting a photographer but not the sexy urban cowgirl that arrived. He knew it was hot out, he just hadn’t expected the hot and sexy woman to make him burn the minute he caught sight of her. One look and he had to quench this fire inside.
One touch between Dan and Blaire sparks a wildfire that burns hotter than the Texas summer and is just as hard to put out.
One look ignites a smolder between Dan and Blaire, one touch sparks a wildfire that burns out of control, hotter than the Texas sun.
Graduation had her moving to Chicago. After a couple of years of living and working there, she realized that Chicago couldn’t give her the life she thought she’d wanted. What she wanted was right here in Texas, so when she got this assignment she packed her bags, subletted her apartment, and headed home.
The GPS announced she was there. Looking around, Blaire spotted the driveway; it was hard to miss. The wrought iron arch over the drive simply proclaimed Triple D Dude Ranch. She frowned. The drive was just as dusty as the road and there was not a hotel in sight.
Sighing, Blaire put on her signal and pulled over. She stopped and grabbed her camera. A picture of the arch, with the wrought iron words showcasing the name, would be a perfect shot. Blaire opened her door and groaned as the leather made a sucking sound as she peeled herself off. Maybe she shouldn’t have shucked her panties at that last stop. She hadn’t thought about peeling herself off the leather seats, only how infernally hot the day was. Stepping out, she looked both ways before she minced to the opposite side of the road. The heels of the unfamiliar and recently purchased cowboy boots and the long drive had made her a bit wobbly.
Blaire lifted her camera, uncovering the lens and holding the cap in her hand. No dust on the lens, she was glad to see. It wouldn’t have surprised her at all if there were. She felt like every crevice of her body had grit in it. Her cute Western outfit might never be the same. She felt wilted from head to toe. Lining up the arch in her lens, Blaire cursed as she dropped the lens cap on the ground. One of these days she’d remember to attach it with the string to the camera itself.
“Damn it!” Bending over from the waist, she picked up the cap from the ground; after all, it was a good opportunity to do one of her daily stretches. Blaire tucked it in the pocket on the front of her cute little denim skirt as she stood, like she should have in the first place.
Lining up the arch once again, Blaire could see that the dust continued, the drive a little smoother than the road coming in. Shaking her head, she snapped a picture. Moving around, she tried to capture it from different angles. She could always delete the ones that didn’t work.
Finishing, Blaire decided she’d had enough of the arch. There had to be at least one good one. She started back to the car when she heard a noise and whirled around.
Her breath caught and she instinctively lifted the camera for a shot. Holy hotness! That was a real cowboy. Her eyes widened as she looked through the lens, quickly snapping a picture.
Excerpt 2 18+
She was in a white bandana halter from what he could see. Tied at her nape and waist, he could see her smooth toned back. Her hair was tied up in a pink bandana and Dan wondered how long it was. Her short denim cut off skirt gave just a peek at toned, heart shaped butt cheeks. His gaze traveled lower and he had to stifle a laugh. She had on four-inch spiked cowboy boots. Pink, no less.
Dan’s breath caught as she cursed and leaned over to pick something up off the ground. He had to wonder if she knew he was there. She took a deep breath and leaned over from her waist. He swallowed, mouth suddenly dry. Raising his binoculars he confirmed what he thought. No panties; not even the teasing peek of a thong. As she bent he had a perfect view of her ass and pussy. His cock grew, throbbing to come out and play. She either thought it was too hot for panties, or she liked to go commando. Either way Dan was appreciative.
She stretched further, spreading her legs slightly. Dan wanted to run his hands over the curve of her ass and sink into the delicate pink folds he was staring at. He stifled a grown. Her lips spread as she arched down with a groan, giving him an unrestricted view of her snatch, daring him to fill it. Her clit, which was nestled there, peeked out like it wanted to be noticed. Boy did he notice!
Dan sat there on his horse, cock aching as she moved. She twisted and turned with grace, giving Dan an eyeful. She paid no attention to her surroundings as she looked through the lens taking shots. Dan loved curves and she had them in spades. Not only did she have a world class ass and a pussy that was just begging to be fucked, but the bandana top she wore barely covered her. White, it was damp and clung to her breasts showcasing her pink nipples through the fabric. So large, they had to be triple-D’s. He swallowed.
Dan realized Mike’s warped sense of humor was why he said he had the perfect photographer. Shaking his head at Mike’s choice Dan grinned. Sending this particular bombshell with triple-D boobs to the Triple D Dude Ranch was right up his alley. Watching them quiver as she moved, Dan wanted nothing more than to latch on and suckle them until her nipples hardened and stood out. Dan groaned watching her, knowing he would have to call and thank Mike.
His jeans grew even tighter. Dan shifted on his horse, becoming more uncomfortable as he watched her. Fumbling, watching through the binoculars, he unbuttoned his Levi’s, hissing as he scraped against the denim as his cock sprang free. Letting the reins rest across his leg and making sure his horse would stay steady, he grabbed and fisted himself. Pumping, he imagined he was inside the pink glistening pussy of the wannabe cowgirl, he tightened his hand.
Beverly Ovalle lives in Wisconsin with her husband Edmond of 25 years and two Chinese Water Dragons. Her son Nicholas visits when he is on leave from the Marines. Her daughter Susannah visits from time to time to make sure the ‘old’ folks are alive and kicking.
Beverly has traveled around the world thanks to five years in the US Navy and has worked for the government in one capacity or another for the past 30 years. Beverly and her brothers have travelled most of the continental United States as children due to the station wagon from Hell. Still active with veterans, she is adjutant for her local AMVETS.
Beverly has been reading romances since her Aunt Bonnie introduced her to the gothic romance in the fourth grade and is still reading every chance she gets.
Musings from Michigan