“Cowboy, if you think you’re getting in this bed smelling like that you got another thing comin’,” the good looking, full figured whore known as Fat Marge, said to the young cowboy standing hat in hand at the foot of her bed.
Marge was propped up on her pillows wearing a red silk, Chinese negligee. The cowboy standing there, not quite sure where to point his eyes, shuffled back and forth nervously hoping Marge would give in.
But, Marge was holding firm to her position, “Cowboy, you get a bath, shave and clean clothes and then you can come back up here.”
“Yes Ma’am, but,” the young cowboy said.
“What’s your name cowboy?” Marge asked shifting her weight onto one elbow.
“Huh? Excuse me Ma’am?” he said, his attention snapping back from the sight of Marge’s ample, pink butt cheek that the red silk, Chinese negligee could not hope to cover in her current position.
“Your name cowboy?”
“Yes Ma’am, Wyoming Ma’am.”
Well Wyoming, I bet there’s a good looking young fella under all that cow dung and dust. And I bet someday there will be a special girl you’ll want to be courting, so it’s best you learn how to come to a woman properly.”
Marge rolled onto her back as she spoke, the red silk, Chinese negligee doing its best to conceal her treasures but, failing miserably.
“Wyoming, it’s not polite to gawk.”
“How’d you get here Wyoming?”
“Up the stairs Ma’am.”
Marge shifted her legs, more of a spread really, making no concession to modesty, “Before that, Wyoming.”
“Horse Ma’am,” Wyoming said, unsuccessfully trying not to gawk.
“Go on down stairs, get on your horse and ride on over to the bath house. When you’re all spruced up come on back up here and try again.”
“But Ma’am, that’ll take over an hour!”
“All good things come in time Wyoming. I’ll be here waiting for you.”
“Yes Ma’am,” Wyoming relinquished and shuffled backwards, hat in hand covering straining pants buttons, out of Marge’s small second story room.