by Meg Ripley
“My turn,” he whispered, and Ava moaned, the blazing heat in his eyes and his devilish grin nearly sending her over the edge.
As he lowered her zipper, Ava's dress fell to the floor. She hadn't bothered putting anything on under her dress and so in an instant, she was completely naked, her soft curves, her ample breasts and smooth pussy bare before him. Gritting his teeth in an attempt to keep his arousal in check, he had her on the bed in one swift movement, laying her back as he spread her legs. He leaned forward from the edge of the bed, his lips making contact with the inside of one of her thighs, kissing his way up slowly until he reached the apex.
Ava held her breath, waiting for him to continue upward, her body writhing to spur him on. But instead, Noah's lips started back down the inside of her other thigh, and she moaned in frustration. He smiled evilly, knowing he was driving her wild and continued his descent before working his way back up again. Hovering no more than an inch away from her pussy, Noah's fingers touched her instead, sliding along her wet slit before parting her lips, spreading her wide open. It was the most erotic thing she'd ever felt; to be so completely exposed to someone she barely knew. He leaned in further then, his tongue darting out to lick along her parted lips. Ava was so aroused that her hips nearly bucked off the bed in response to his sensual touch, and she fought against the urge to scream as he moved to her clit, licking gently at first before sucking her into his mouth. The strange pressure was exquisite, and already she could feel her orgasm building quickly. He sucked harder and she moaned loud, her hands clawing at the downy soft blankets on the bed, and as she felt his finger slip into her open pussy, her back arched off the bed as her orgasm shuddered through her body.
He released her then, his finger leaving her pussy and she watched as he sucked it into his mouth before going straight to the source, plunging his tongue deep inside her, darting in and out. Although the aftershocks of her last orgasm had yet to subside, she could already feel her body stirring again. She moaned softly as his pace increased but whimpered a moment later as his tongue left her warmth. Ava wouldn't feel bereft long, as two fingers replaced his tongue, plunging in and out fast. And then something changed. Noah bent his fingers as he continued to thrust, stimulating the tiny, most sensitive pleasure zone in her body. Instantly, an exquisite pressure began to build deep inside her, and before long she was thrashing wildly beneath him, her erotic screams of ecstasy filling the room as she started to cum, an orgasm unlike any other soaking her pussy and thighs.
Noah was on top of her then; he leaned down to kiss her as she felt his cock pressed against her wet entrance. But rather than plunge inside, he rolled then, pulling her with him to sit astride him. All of a sudden, she felt wickedly powerful, hovering above his massive cock, his expression consumed with desire as his gaze took in every inch of her. Her hands moved to cup her breasts, leaning forward so that she was only inches from his face as he watched intently. Sitting up straight, she lowered herself down then, ever so slowly, the tip of his cock sliding into her wet slit. Inch by inch, she continued until she'd taken every inch of him inside her, stilling for a moment to adjust to his enormous girth. Finally, she started to move, slowly at first, desperately trying to maintain the tenuous hold on her arousal, pacing herself to draw out the incredible experience as long as she could. But as Noah leaned up, flexing his flawless abs as he squeezed her tits, sucking a nipple in his mouth, her restraint snapped. Ava's pace increased, riding him faster; her fingers digging into his shoulders as he released her nipple, leaning up further to reach her lips. She kissed him back with a wild fervor as she rode him harder, their moans twining together as Noah's tongue delved into her mouth. Ava started to cum, the tremors of her orgasm coursing through her body, and as her pussy spasmed around his cock, Noah toppled over the edge, too, cumming hard as he thrust deep inside her one last time.
His arms wrapped around her, Ava's head resting on his shoulder, they remained in that position, breathless as the aftershocks of their orgasms slowly subsided. Finally, Noah fell back against the bed, bringing Ava with him as he slipped from her warmth. She sighed, immediately feeling empty. As exhausted as her body was, she wasn't ready for this to be over.
“What would you say to lunch in bed?” Noah whispered against her ear a moment later. “A little sustenance to keep our energy up?”
“Apparently, Noah isn't in any hurry for this to be over either,” she thought to herself with a smile, her body already humming with anticipation. She'd have to return to the ranch at some point; Christie would begin to worry eventually otherwise, but Ava was quite certain that the rest of her vacation was going to be a whole lot more interesting than she could ever have imagined.
THE END
Claimed By The Cowboy Brothers
When Layla entrusts her two best friends Quinn and Eli to plan their annual vacation, the last thing she expects is to be dragged out to a place literally called the Middle of Nowhere Guest Ranch and Spa.
The only one of the group not impressed by the ranch's garish décor and kitschy amenities, Layla ironically finds herself to be the only one taking part in the activities planned for their week out in the wild. From horseback riding to archery, she decides to dive in and channel her inner frontier woman.
Layla’s participation comes with an unexpected bonus: she gets to have brothers Roy and Nathan all to herself. These cowboys are not only too gorgeous to exist, but are also incredibly eager to show her just how well they play together.
With cowboys this delicious running around, voluptuous Layla is more than happy to be the warm, gooey marshmallow for their decadent s'more.
"This is exactly why I am always responsible for planning our vacation every year."
Layla reached beside her to grab onto the wooden edge of the wagon and hold on for dear life as it shook and bounced its way along a dirt road that very well may have been a throwback to the Westward Expansion.
"Why?" Eli asked.
At the same moment he replied, the wagon hit a particularly deep rut in the road, tossing the small man off the bench across from Layla and into the thick bed of hay at their feet.
"Because if I had planned the trip like I always do we would be lounging on a tropical beach somewhere instead of bumping our way along in a freaking covered wagon on the way to the Middle of Nowhere Guest Ranch. The one time in the history of the Annual Vacation Extravaganza tradition that I entrust the two of you to plan our trip, you end up making straw angels."
"Middle of Nowhere Guest Ranch and Spa," Quinn corrected for her place beside Layla.
She held out the brochure so that Layla could see the idyllic-looking image on the front, but Layla just glared back at her. The wagon pulled to a rough stop, sending Eli back down into the hay and nearly toppling Layla and Quinn down on top of him, which would have brought an abrupt and unpleasant end to their journey as each woman outweighed him by at least 70 pounds.
"Have you never met me?" Layla asked, grabbing her suitcases off the floor of the wagon where she had been gripping them between her feet so they didn't skitter out during the ride, "What part of 'Middle of Nowhere Guest Ranch' just screamed 'Layla' to you?"
"And Spa," Quinn said again, holding out the brochure, "You like spas."
"I like real spas," Layla said, walking unsteadily toward the opening at the end of the wagon, "With crisp white sheets and aromatherapy oils and pretty boys telling me to take off my --- oh, holy hell."
Layla stepped down out of the wagon and got her first full view of the guest ranch…and spa. She immediately knew why whoever owned this place had named it "Middle of Nowhere". Tucked in what looked like an area that had been blasted out of the woods with haphazardly thrown dynamite, the scattered buildings of the ranch were a strange, teetering balance between a kitschy tourist stop and the backdrop for a low-budget horror film.
"This is perfect!" Quinn gushed, putting down her suitcase so she could extend her arms to her side and spin around joyously.
"For
what?" Layla asked.
Quinn stopped spinning and gazed at Layla with enormous brown eyes that looked like they held all the hopes and dreams of the generations that came before her, and the innocence that said she actually believed she could accomplish them.
"To achieve my life goal of riding a real horse through the great outdoors. I'm going to be a rhinestone cowboy. Well, cowgirl."
Layla winced.
"I don't think that means what you think it does."
Just then an old man who very well may have been the one who blasted through the trees climbed down from the bench at the front of the wagon and shuffled his way around to them.
"Welcome to the Middle of Nowhere," he said, holding out an arm as if to encompass the eerily quiet ranch, "I hope you enjoy your week with us."
"Five days," Layla said, "We leave Saturday morning."
Eli came up beside Layla and looped an arm around her waist.
"Can't you try? Just a little bit? Q is so excited and it could be fun. You don't know. You didn't think that you were going to enjoy the Sweet Corn Festival she made us go to, either, but you ended up having a blast."
"I ate seven ears of roasted corn, drank some moonshine, and woke up the next day."
"See? Fun."
Layla looked back over at Quinn who was now closely scrutinizing a map of the ranch and bombarding the little old man with questions. She sighed and put her arm around Eli's waist, resting her head on his thin shoulder.
"Alright. I will try to be good. She really does look happy."
Ten minutes later Layla was already starting to regret her promise. She lugged her suitcases up onto the small front porch of their assigned cabin and let out a long exhalation, wiping the back of her hand across her forehead to remove the sweat that had beaded there during their hike through the rest of the ranch to get there.
"Why did they put us in the very last cabin?" she asked through her panting breaths.
"I asked for something quiet and secluded," Quinn replied as she fought with the old-fashioned-looking key trying to get the front door open.
Layla straightened and put her hands on her full hips.
"The whole damn place is quiet and secluded. They didn't need to send us on our very own personal trail of tears to get here."
"I don't think that was tasteful," Eli whispered, glancing around them as if a political activist group was going to jump out at them from behind one of the trees.
"I'm sorry. Look around you, though. We are so far out I think we left the middle of nowhere and now very well may be closer to somewhere."
"Is 'Somewhere' on the map?" Quinn asked.
The door finally relented under her coaxing and swung open. Layla let the other two enter first before dragging her suitcases behind her into the cabin. As soon as she stepped inside she let them drop from her hands.
"Oh my god, it's the East Village revival of 'The Last of the Mohicans'."
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Whoever had decorated the cabin truly left no inch untouched, filling the space with everything from vibrant polyester tapestries and rugs that had a vaguely Native American design to massive wooden statuettes of cowboys on dramatically reared horses to various sets of antlers hung on the walls. Even the coffee table seemed to be nothing more than a large tree split in half and turned on its side so it could balance on stumps from smaller trees.
"Aww, poor Bambi," Eli said and Layla turned to see him standing beside the wall, cradling the set of antlers positioned lowest.
"Don't worry," she told him, "They don't hurt the deer to get those. The animals shed them every year so you can just go out and pick them up off the ground."
"That's convenient. It's more masculine than gathering wildflowers, too. Maybe they have baskets available at the front desk so we can go gather."
Layla shook her head at Eli, not wanting to break his soul by letting him know that there probably wasn't an overabundance of antlers just strewn across the ground waiting for him to skip by with his wicker basket and scoop them up. She glanced around the cabin again, finding herself liking the awkward surroundings a bit more with each passing second. It was almost like the cabin version of Linus sitting in the pumpkin patch waiting for the Great Pumpkin on Halloween. Never could there be a more sincere tiny cabin trying to look like a real cowboy retreat.
"Where's Quinn?" she asked as she realized only she and Eli were still in the living room.
"I'm in the bedroom!" Quinn called back through one of the two doors along one wall.
"Bedroom? As in singular?" Eli asked, releasing the antlers and crossing the living room toward the door.
Layla and Eli met in front of the bedroom door and peered in cautiously.
"Perfect," Layla said, sighing and sagging against the doorframe.
Inside the small bedroom, Quinn was standing proudly beside a triple bunk bed that appeared to be made primarily out of rejected firewood lashed together at the corners with strips of brown leather. Layla sent up a silent prayer that was only for show, hoping that the bed had a bit more structural integrity so that it at least had a shot of supporting two curvy women and one rather tiny man.
"I get the bottom bunk!" Eli shrieked, pushing past Layla into the room and tossing himself sideways onto the lowest bunk.
"Like hell you do," Layla said, stepping toward the bed so she could grab him by his ankle and tug him back out.
"Yeah, I don't think those physics work out," Quinn agreed, "There's a reason pyramids are pointy at the top and not at the bottom. We need to arrange this by size. Since I am the most prominent of the three of us, I will take the bottom. Eli, you weigh nothing so you take the top. Layla, you come in somewhere in the middle, so that's where you'll sleep, too."
"A Layla sandwich!" Eli said, scrambling up to the top bunk and lying down.
Quinn followed suit, stretching out across the bottom bunk.
"Delightful," Layla said and sighed before performing an awkward half-crawl, half-jump into the middle bunk and lying down.
The position left her with her face approximately six inches from the bottom of Eli's bunk, and her bunk around the same distance from Quinn's face.
"This place does have running water, right?" Layla asked after a few seconds of silence while they all got used to their sleeping arrangements.
"Of course. The toilet is in the room right beside here."
"The toilet? What about the shower?"
There was a long pause.
"That's outside."
Twenty minutes later, they had trekked back to the front of the ranch and were inside the optimistically named "General Store" tucked in the row of buildings that contained the front lobby and the dining hall. Eli had insisted that they needed to buy supplies for the week, but the shop looked like the retail version of their cabin and Layla was even more grateful there was no survival element of this whole ranch adventure.
Layla wandered through the rows of souvenirs and completely impractical clothing choices, chewing on a length of watermelon-flavored fruit rope until she found Quinn, who was at the far end of the store trying on a pair of rhinestone-studded pink cowboy boots.
"Those are lovely," she said.
Quinn grinned up at her from under the brim of a matching cowboy hat.
"Aren't they? I told you – rhinestone cowboy!"
"I still don't think that means what you think it does," Layla said, taking another bite of her candy. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the curtain in front of a small dressing room open dramatically, "Dear lord, here comes Dances with Queens."
Quinn joined her gaze to take in Eli walking toward them in what Layla could only imagine was supposed to be a Native American warrior, but in reality, consisted of little more than a loincloth, fringed arm bands, and a feather headdress that would have made any Vegas showgirl proud.
"Come on, Layla! Get into the spirit!" he said, linking arms with Quinn so they both grinned at her.
"I am absolutely
in the spirit. I'm eating watermelon jerky."
Layla waited while Eli got dressed and then walked with them to the front counter so that they could make their purchases. A dark-eyed man smiled at Eli from behind the old-fashioned cash register and Layla nudged him playfully. She felt his hand brushing her toward the door and she took Quinn's arm to steer her out of the store.
As she leaned on one of the rough-hewn wooden posts on the edge of the wooden platform connecting all the buildings, Layla caught sight of two men standing at the edge of a corral. They both looked better than anyone should be allowed to in fitted blue jeans and faded plaid shirts with their sleeves rolled up to their elbows. Weathered boots and well-worn hats completed the look of Western lusciousness and told Layla these two beautiful boys were the most authentic thing in the Middle of Nowhere.
One of the men glanced up at her and put his fingers to the brim of his hat to tilt it slightly downward at her. Layla got far closer to swooning at that moment than she would have liked to admit and was thankful when Eli stepped out of the store looking like he, too, might catch the vapors at any second.
"Why didn't I get one of those in my welcome basket?" he breathed, fanning himself with the ends of the headdress feathers that were sticking out of the bag in his hand.
"You know," Layla said, linking arms with him as she took one more glance at the cowboys by the corral, "I think I'm starting to feel a bit more amiable about this whole ranch idea."
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"I thought this was the call of your people or something," Layla said as she and Quinn huffed their way along the dirt path from their cabin to the main corral at the front of the ranch.