Tuesday Cowgirl


This is the last time, I thought. It was a week since I met her, and I couldn’t get her out of my mind, which was crazy in itself: She was old enough to be my mother!

It started out innocently enough, a comment about a cologne I had tried. She liked it. She liked it a lot, apparently!

Within fifteen minutes, I was slamming it home to her in a fitting room, while she moved like a cat in heat.

We both came, and she was gone. But, she left a note that if I enjoyed that, I should call this number, today, Tuesday.

I followed orders, assuming she was honest about being married, and waited until today to call. I had tried several times, and now, feeling duped, I made one last attempt. As I let out my last breath of resignation, I heard a click, hesitation, then a voice on the other end. “Yes,” very matter-of-factly.

“Hi, um, we met, last week? Remember?”

“Yes, how are you?”

There was so much in my brain, dying to get out, but I played it cool. “Good, good, did you get that jacket for him?”

A pause. “No, he buys his own clothes, but it really did look good on you.”

I realized I was getting hard again, just speaking to her. “Thanks, do you go to the mall every Tuesday?”

“No, that was spur-of-the-moment.”

“My lucky day.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself. Do you think you’d be amenable to more excitement?”

My heart jumped. “I think I could be persuaded.”

I thought I heard chuckles in the background, and suddenly felt betrayed. “I’m glad to here that,” she replied. “I have an offer, if you are interested.”

“Listen, if this is some kind of game, I don’t like being made the fool.”

“Oh, no, my dear, you’re the prize!” I heard female voices of reassurance before The Lady quieted them down.

“My friends and I have a sort of club. To make it brief, we started as a Book club, then the books got erotic, then we related our own experiences,” she went on. “We realized how old and dreary our tales were, so now we make current memories. Do you see, Dear?”

They meet every two weeks for cocktails at one of their homes. There are currently six of them, all married, middle aged, and horny. I was this week’s episode, and the women all loved me! The Lady, as I call her, had taken a few pics of me on her cell phone, and the others thought I was “to die for!”

“Anyway, since you were such a good sport last week, we thought you may like to try another club member?”

Not wanting to sound too eager, I asked, “What about you?” To choruses of “Ahh, how sweet!” and “That’s so nice,” she said, “Thank you for saying that, but we’re all in committed relationships. We’re just enjoying ourselves and hoping to spread the joy. That’s why this cell phone is prepaid. If someone were to trace it, there’s no account name, just a Radio Shack.”

Being a true American male who never turns down a chance to get laid, I agreed. The Ground Rules were, no drugs, no attempts to contact afterwards, and if either partner said “no” that was final. I would be contacted after the women chose the next partner for me.

I hung up and sat thinking, I’m twenty-six, single, not seeing anyone. Why not explore? If they were anything like The Lady, the others would be well dressed and impeccably groomed, not kids, but not yet ready for the rocker, either. And anytime I got tired, or bored, I could resign. I also wondered how many other men were in their game.

An hour later, I got the call, a different woman, very professional, very distant. “Tomorrow, 3PM, Route 22, Lola’s Lounge.” And, that was it.

I googled the place, it was connected to a motel, a rest stop for ataşehir escort Truckers not far off the Thruway, so I dressed in my finest jeans and cleanest sweatshirt, and went on my journey.

There was a huge truck lot in the back, and a handful of nondescript cars in front. Still wary, I parked near the street for easy escape in case of a set-up, although I couldn’t think of a thing I had worth taking. And black-mail would be futile since their reputations had to be more important than mine.

My eyes adjusted to the darkness, and immediately I spotted the barmaid, about 50, a big woman exposing massive cleavage, big head of blond hair, thick red lips and eye-makeup that was applied with a trowel.

I paused, not sure if I should turn and run, then decided, it was only a drink, and I came all this way.

“What’ll it be, Hon?” she grinned at me.

“A nice cold Bud?”

“Coming up!” she smiled and winked.

She was totally different from The Lady, other than age. Boy, was I disappointed, but I sat and sipped while she watched her soaps on TV and chatted with 2 old-timers at the other end. She made sure to stop by, but didn’t seem overly-eager. Not yet, anyway.

The door opened, once for the mailman, then again for a couple. They didn’t seem very friendly to each other, and the barmaid had to give the woman change, which she passed to the man, who abruptly turned and left.

The woman ordered a drink, and took it to the jukebox where I got a better view. She began playing these Country hurting songs about love gone wrong, swaying to the music. I watched intently. She was more to my liking, big also, but not fat, a button-down top with straining buttons, her chest was alive, quivering like jello, and it almost shimmered. Still 50 or so, she had shoulder-length black hair, that was obviously a wig, playing her part in this game of strangers.

After a moment, she looked my way and smiled. “Anything you wanna here?” she asked in a Southern Drawl.

I got up, walked over the the machine, and glanced at the song, while catching a whiff of knockoff brand of cologne. She was more dressed for a Honky-Tonk, and I wondered if it was an old Halloween costume, with jeans, boots, big buckle and plaid shirt. She must have been channeling Loretta Lynn as she chewed her gum, sucking on a Rum-and-Coke.

She reached way to her left, across me, and touched the screen, our faces close. “How about this one, Honey?”

“Yeah, it works for me.”

“If you see something you like, just touch,” she sighed as she pressed her breast into my arm.

“If I touch, I may get us thrown out.”

“You’re too fresh! Even though that would fix him.”

“Who?” playing along.

“That piece of shit boyfriend I just ran to the curb! Thinks he can cheat on me!” Nodding her head to where the driver had been.

“Oh, he seemed to leave in a hurry.”

“Claims he had to work! After I paid for the room, too! I told him I’d find my own fun!”

“Good for you! He doesn’t deserve you,” I said, egging her on.

Her eyes gleamed up at me, as she licked her lips. “No, he don’t. I just hope he don’t change his mind and come back. He can be the real jealous kind.”

Feeling confident that he was just a cab driver, I said, “If that happens, you give me the sign and I’ll make sure he acts respectfully, if I may.”

Her hands clung to my arm as she beamed. “Hmm, I knew there’d be a young buck around to watch over me. Thanks, baby! You’re a Sweetie.” She leaned in and kissed my cheek, and inhaled sexily.

“Hmmm, but screw him, who needs the trouble. Maybe I’ll just go up to that ataşehir escort room with this Pint of Rum I brought.”

“If you think so, I’d be happy to escort you there, to be sure he doesn’t interfere.”

“My Knight in Shining Armor!”

I finished my beer and left a nice tip, as the barmaid winked and said “You come back when you got more time, Baby.”

My Country Girl was on my arm as we left, and I made sure to look around as if checking for The Boyfriend, and we shuffled up the stairs to Room 315, the second door, nice and close.

How she had the key already, I never asked, but she genuinely seemed nervous, sliding the key in and I had to help her.

She laughed nervously as she stepped inside. “This is it!” It was your typical Queen bed, end tables, chair, color TV and a bathroom.

“Nice,” I replied, as I stepped up behind her, placing my hands on her hips. She jumped, horror on her face.

“Are you okay?”

She smiled, weakly, playing with her hair. “Sorry. I’m a little shaky. Is that okay?”

Gone was the Southern drawl and false bravado. She almost choked on her gum.

“Fine, fine. I didn’t mean to rush you.”

“Oh, no, you were fine. You fell right into it, the whole thing. You’re very good,” she nodded emphatically. “Really.”

“I just tried to follow your lead. Great accent, by the way, very believable.”

“Really? You think? I saw Urban Cowboy with John Travolta seven times!”

I smiled. She was honest and nervous, like me. She pulled out the Rum and Coke and we poured a few as we talked. “When my card was picked yesterday, I almost peed myself. This was my first time since we went real life, not just talk! But I couldn’t back down. And after Nora said how nice you were, I knew I had to try.”

I sat on the bed while she was on the chair. “I’m pretty nervous, too. Last week was a fluke thing. Like a dream. And if you’re uncomfortable, we can just call it a day. I can drop you off, if you like. This isn’t the best neighborhood.”

“Thanks, I took the driver’s cell number in case.”

“And you can tell the Ladies Club whatever you want. This is my last time. It’s too stressful on both of us.”

She bowed her head, holding her plastic cup. “I’m sorry I messed it up. I really wanted to, but now…”

“Sometimes people don’t click.”

“Oh, I was clicking alright! I don’t mean to be gross, but I’m so wet right now! I’m squishing!”

I laughed and she blushed and I said, “Well, I was hard at the jukebox, you looked so sexy!”

“Really? You’re just saying that.” Her eyes were on my crotch.

I stood, gave it a tug, and a decent bulge sat there. She squealed. “Oooh, I made you like that? You really believed me?”

“What do you think?” I said, giving my bulge a squeeze, feeling it grow under her stare.

“Do you… think, if we tried, again?”

“Darlin’ I came here with a Honky Tonk Angel, and I’m primed for action.”

She stood into my arms, and seemed to have a new energy, now feeling confident in her sexuality, back in the game. She pressed her lips onto mine, and my arms held those breasts to me, as we let our tongues dance. I kept watch on her, not closing my eyes, and I could tell she was letting go.

Our breath mingled as I slid one hand back to her breasts and began massaging. For her part, her hands were under my sweatshirt, smooth on my bare flesh. In seconds it was off me and I went to work on those buttons.

I kissed her neck as she rolled her head back and purred, breathing deeply as I got the shirt off and found a red lace push-up bra. “Great color!” I said, and she anadolu yakası escort giggled like a schoolgirl.

She bent her head and bit at my nipple while she undid my jeans. She was hungry and in a hurry, so fine with me. I went for her jeans, too, and finally we just stripped ourselves, now both spurred on by the moment.

My cock sprung in the air as I looked her over. She still had the bra on and said, “Leave it” when I reached for it. I’m sure they must have sagged like fifty year old boobs do, especially that size. The matching panties were on the floor and she had shaved down to a trim Vee, pretty sexy indeed.

We kissed again as her hand wrapped around my cock. “I want to ride you like John Travolta,” she said, breathing heavily.

Playing her game, I laid on my back and she was above me. The black wig was shifting and I could see much lighter hair beneath. She held my shaft as she mounted me, holding me like the horn on a saddle, her eyes rolling again as she worked me up and down her crease. She was as wet as she said, and now she sat on it, taking in into her hot box.

She leaned forward, giving a growl as she worked her body up and down mine. My seven inches slid easily in and out, and she was grimacing when I was all the way in, then oohing as I left, again.

Her breathing was so shallow, I worried she might faint, but she kept going. I slid my hand between us and caught her clit. She yelped as I tweaked it, her eyes wide in amazement.

“Oh, God,” she gasped, “Oh, God, gonna gonna cum!”

I thrust faster, knowing I was soon to follow but really wanting her to enjoy this for some reason.

“Oh, Oh, Oh No!” She slammed down on me, muscles clenching me into her, and I came at the same moment, grunting and arching to get totally inside her.

The Cowgirl collapsed on my chest, and we both gasped for air. My mind flashed to next Tuesday, and how this would be reviewed. Did I do my part? what were the others like? Would they call me back?

She kissed my chest, curled the sparse hair there, as she looked into my eyes. “I know we aren’t supposed to get too familiar, but what should I call you?”

“Does it matter?”

“To me it does! this is something I’ll remember for a long time!”

I didn’t mean to minimize it, and said, “I’m Andy. And you?”

“Jennifer. Jennie the Cowgirl!” and she laughed, as she pulled the wig off, letting her brown hair with blonde highlights tumble out. “Jennie whose never been nearer a horse than at the track!”

“Well, Jennie, while the wig is sexy, you’re much prettier in real life.” That, apparently was the perfect thing to say. We began chatting. She’s in a dead marriage, a son in college, bored at home. Found out her husband cheats, but isn’t about to go through a divorce and is systematically draining off some assets, thanks to the assistance of Nora, The Lady from last week.

“It figures that she would be the shrewd one,” I said, and she nodded. “

Former CPA, financial advisor, making sure if the time comes to leave, I have a nest egg.”

“So, can I see you again?”

She hesitated. “I’d like that, but if e found out, he’d have grounds. I’m afraid to give him ammo. Another reason why Nora thought you’d be good for me, no strings.”

I nodded. “Well, you have my number. In the future. Or if it’ even just another game, on out own.”

We slowly dressed. I tried briefly to instigate another round, but she had commitments.

“Thank you, Andy. I hope you don’t mind if I leave first.”

I smiled. “Jenny, I won’t follow, I promise.”

“I know, let’s just leave in mystery, like it began.” She kissed me gently as she stood, adjusted the wig, and smoothed out her shirt. “Nora said you were good. She lied. You were great. Bye, Honey.”

The door closed and she was gone. Five minutes later I let the door click behind me and squinted into the sunlight. She was gone.

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