I was a cowgirl in another life and fell in love

here is a little story of the one who got away‘

Buffalo girls won’t you come out tonight,

Come out tonight

Come out tonight

Buffalo girls wont you come out tonight

And dance by the light of the moon’

It was several years after my messy divorce from the kids dad.

I had dated a few fellas but never met anyone that was more than a passing fancy.

Until one afternoon when I went down to my favorite tavern to meet the girlfriends.

I was sitting at the bar laughing with them when one pointed down its length and said, “look, that guy is just staring at you".

I glanced down that way and sure enough, not only was he looking, but he was smiling, a smile I can still remember for the immediate, absolute lust it elicited in my panties. Set above a big handlebar moustache, was a set of dancing eyes, and…oh goodness, what is this about?

For half an hour we continued to flirt…he kept a staring and I could not look away.

Finally, he gets up and comes walking down the empty bar.

What a long, tall drink of water he was, over 6’3”, a tangle of tawny hair, built like a stevedore, jeans, cowboy boots, with arms akimbo, kind of a ‘chollo’ walk, just a struttin' behind me smilinas he reached for the telephone on the bar……

Making a phone call…hmm, I wondered who he was calling. After a short conversation, he walked behind me out the door and really I felt him, felt his big clean energy, sense of fun, his sexy persona. It was something so unusual and surreal to feel him in my body that way. Before I knew it, I jumped up and walked after him.

“Hey where ya going?” Normally, I am kind of shy but I remember there was no hesitation, as if some angelic nudge just lifted me up and out that door, as if fluttery, silver wings were pushing me with force field energy (not the first time those angels had intervened)

He comes back to me and leans in close. “You want me to come back?” Ooh baby, at this point I can’t imagine not knowing this man. My pussy was already in melt down…..

Short time later he returns, and asks me out to dinner. Those grinning eyes of his just kept boring in deeper, laughing, and he was such a good natured, happy storyteller. I was captivated from the get go. Mountain man, logger man, cowboy man, he had been born and raised on the land.

At an early age he took regular trips as a packer for different outfits into the mountains, living in the woods for months at a time, snow camping in the Sierras, then a high lead timber faller on tall trees, finally somehow got stranded with a hellish Apache woman for 7 years in the mestizo ghetto of lower east LA .He was just coming off the rebound of that bad scenario. My good fortune, he had been back in his hometown for a week, otherwise half the woman in my town would have latched on and rode him like the bronco he was.

After dinner, we strolled around sharing stories and pieces of our lives. I laughed so much, he had a wit and was a natural born raconteur. When he started singing cowboy songs to me, there was no hesitancy as I hustled him in the direction of home. Luckily the kids were at dad’s house. I never brought men home, never introduced men to them unless they had a proper ‘get to know ya long, long introduction’ I didn't even think about it. This filly was ready to be mounted.

He had not had sex in months - the witchy gansta' woman was a mean one, withholding any affection or sex for some time. It had been a spell since I had been with a man. Our lovemaking took a whole new form. I was not inexperienced, nor was he, but neither of us had felt the intensity of such a strong connection. He was so sweet and affectionate. We would make love, pass out from exhaustion and then start back up again without coming apart. I think the first go ground lasted about 5 hours and didn’t stop for 3 days.

It wasn’t just sex, in between, we ate and laughed and laughed and made love, talked about everything, changed positions, slept some, started again and again. Pulling me close when we were done, his strong arms and gentle ways, gusseting me in tenderness, was the nectar of the Gods for a loving woman. But I knew I was in for a wild ride with this one.

When the kids (9 and ll) finally did come back, we just tucked them up and took them camping into the mountains. He packed us all in, set up camp, made dinners and huge bonfires, played like a kid with the kids. He taught us how to listen to the trees whispering to the wind ... put lanterns on the cliffs at night so we could all swim in the moonlight then lulled us to sleep with his songs. The man had such a big, galloping good soul and the energy of a lO year old.

They were as charmed with him I was. I had never been so happy, content, fulfilled, satiated, and full of wonder at my capacity to be in lust and in love.The affair lasted only 6 months before he went off to be a mountain man again. He stole all our hearts. Today, I will start a story, “When I was with …,” my daughter will get a look in her eyes and smile. ”Yeah, my mom loves mountain men, especially cowboys who can sing”