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“We play in the same position. We should help each other out – you know, with tips and stuff. You play really well. I’d love to pick your brains about tactics at some point,” she continued.This was music to my ears. The fresher sex bomb wanted to ‘pick my brains’ about football. The goddess wanted to have a conversation with me? I couldn’t believe what I’d just heard. “For a sure, dude, that’d be really nice. It would really help with the tournament. Let’s do that sometimes.”I replied. “I look forward to it,” she responded, with a wry smile on her face. I played that conversation back in my head for the whole week. This petite, perfect assed, round-breasted, 18-year-old fresher wanted to discuss football with me.Holy shit. I couldn’t get over it. So many possibilities played through my mind. By this point, I had gone several months without sex and was aching to get my dick wet. Now things were finally happening.However, all she did was ask for football tips. So I couldn’t be sure. For the doubting, I did have an interest in all things western, but I had been too infected with purpose and promptness. They exacted a bill my body wasn't equipped to pay. While most were going to this dude ranch for the experience, the activities, or just the fresh air; I was going to reclaim my identity and my health."Hey, folks!" An old cowboy, tall in the saddle, rode up in prairie coolness. Waving his hat to all, he dismounted and personally greeted about nine of us: “Candy...Candy Butler...Howdy...Candy...You must be David," he beamed, "Long trip?"I took too long to answer; he moved on.He was magnificent, a description reserved for exceptional beasts, but apropos for this cowboy. He was big, beefy; with a barrel chest fitting snugly in a festive western shirt and with powerful thighs in equally snug Wranglers. A six-six, two-hundred-plus ball of energy, he flashed sky-blue eyes; recessed in a crimson, weather-beaten face. And with a crushing handshake and dimpled-mustachioed.
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I was early at my cousin’s house that morning, her house was silent and nobody was around in the street. Her car was there and her husband was missing: good news. I approached her front door with my knees trembling and when I rang the bell nothing happened. I waited a minute and rang again: the waiting was killing me. After few moments I felt her presence behind the door and finally she opened. She was still in her pajama, white with small flowers, she had a wonderful smile and her eyes were shining blue in the morning light. I entered the door and smelled her coffee in the air. She let me in her kitchen to give me a cup while she prepared herself. She had a small but warm house, so as soon as I was alone I started to look around. I didn’t know if she left her bedroom door open intentionally, but it was open. A quick glimpse inside revealed me she was taking off her pajama trousers, she had a wonderful ass, rounded from the two pregnancies and she had a sparse pubic hair between her.

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