“You’re not a cowboy are you?” she pointedly inquired. “Me? No—no, I’m not a cowboy. Why?” “You don’t wear...flannel and one of those big, stupid hats like your friend is wearing over there do you?” I glanced over my pinstriped pants, the black t-shirt, and my white dress shirt that I had hanging off my shoulders like a suit jacket. “No,” I repeated, moving my hands over my toned body. “This is all me right here. I don’t wear any garbage can lid belt. Well she stood up, looked directly at me and blew me a kiss. Her skirt still around her waist and her knickers aside showing her furry pussy. Then she walked back to the car, opened the door and leant inside. She had kept her legs straight and was giving me a great view of a soft and very fuckable arse.The drivers door of the car opened and out steps her hubby. “here we go” I thought. He’ll come and tell me I shouldn’t have been looking at his misses, who was still walking round with an exposed. More

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