Diary of a Dirty Cowboy

Chapter Four

June 19th, 2005

Dear Jesse,

It's Sunday, and I'm going to hell for sure for the thoughts I had today! We had Sunday services at the Baptist campground by the river. It was revival week. Mama's been going to evening services all week, and she got all worked up about us going as a family, so I had to call into work and take the day off.

She dragged us down front, right smack in front of the choir.

Lorelei was the soloist this week, and I could tell she wasn't happy about wearing the choir robes in the heat.

Wanna know how?

She was nearly naked underneath. It's the God's honest truth, brother. The sun was shining right behind her and she was wearing a gold robe with just skivvies underneath. It was like shadow puppets. Her body was silhouetted behind the satin, and she was swishing all around to keep the air circulating.

Whenever she sang, she lifted her arms way up to make the sleeves fall down, and you could see the sweat pouring down her forearms. She had silver bangle bracelets on both wrists, glittering in the sun like heavenly handcuffs.

Well, you know that got me started, daydreaming about her standing there in handcuffs. I imagined her cuffed to a wall, naked as a jaybird, moaning my name over and over... I ran my hands all down her body and touched her secret places, made her scream for me to fuck her silly.

I pressed the hymnal down on my pants because I didn't want Mama catching me with a hard-on in church, but there wasn't nothing I could do when we all had to stand up to sing.

I stood back to the left of Mama and tried to hide behind her skirt a little, but I caught Lorelei peeking at me from the front row of the choir. She winked big as life.

I couldn't stand it anymore. I ran back to my car and took off out of there like my tail was on fire.

These damn daydreams are driving me crazy, Jesse. I get all worked up thinking about girls all the time, not knowing what they really taste and feel like. I can imagine, but it's hell not knowing.

Stay loose, Jesse.

* * * *

June 21st, 2005

Dear Jesse,

I spent the night in the tree house over at the Carvers. Remember Bobby Carver's house? We used to sleep out there in the tree and watch his mom get into her nightgown before bed. Remember his sister, Cecily? The ugly little urchin with big ol' buckteeth and ratty, dirt-brown hair?

She got braces in the seventh grade. She got boobs in the eighth grade, and her hair got even darker. It's a rich coffee color now.

I guess she never really was that ugly...we were just blind to it. She's friggin' gorgeous, Jesse. With a body that could stop a clock.

Anyway, I was over there with Bobby, getting stoned in the tree house. We were three sheets to the wind, and it was beautiful and clear out there, so we decided to roll out the old sleeping bags and sleep under the stars.

Bobby passed out and started snoring like a chainsaw, but I couldn't sleep.

Cecily came home from a date around ten, and wasn't I surprised when she came upstairs to the bedroom right in front of the tree house.

She wasn't worried about covering the window. I guess she figured that big tree would block her from the street, but then she wasn't thinking someone might be in the tree.

I couldn't help myself. I tried, I swear. I felt like a damn peeping tom up in that tree. She was just so beautiful. She sat down in front of her mirror and whipped her hair up into a ponytail, then she rubbed Noxzema all over her face to wipe off her makeup. I could smell it on the breeze, clean and sharp.

She's even prettier without makeup.

When her face was clean, she took her hair down and started brushing it with a big, old silver brush like Granny's. She propped one foot up on the chair and cocked her head to the side, her hair falling like a velvet curtain in front of her face.

I ached to run my fingers through it. Soft and cool, and I bet it would feel like silk.

Well, when she stood up and pulled her shirt over her head, I was lost.

She had on one of those sweet cotton bras, blue with little red flowers. And when she shimmied out of her jeans, her panties matched.

She walked over to the closet and put on a fuzzy pink robe with pom-poms hanging from the sash, then lay back on her bed and turned on MTV.

It was my lucky night brother, because Warrant was bangin out "Cherry Pie" and she cranked the volume up loud enough to vibrate the windows! She grabbed her hairbrush off the dresser and started lip-synching the song with attitude to spare. I love that song, and I was really getting into it. I guess she does too, because she dropped that brush and started dancing real sexy, like the girl in the video. She's limber as a cat, and she was arching her back, shaking her ass, and shimmying around the pole on her four-poster bed like a pro! She straddled that pole and air-fucked it so pretty, it brought tears to my eyes! It was so fucking cold in the tree house; I had goose bumps on my balls, but watching her spin and shake that gorgeous body all over the bedroom had me sweating like high noon in the stables in August!

And the whole time her ugly-ass brother was asleep not two feet away... I just knew he'd wake up and kick my ass for watching his little sister dance in her skivvies!

I held my breath for five minutes. I thought she was going to look over that way and see me, big as life, right across from the window. It was dark in the tree house, but she might have seen my eyes, reflecting light just like a possum. I squeezed them shut tight as long as I could stand it, but, after a while, I just had to peek. Thankfully, she was tucked into bed and sleeping like a baby.

I could've sat there all night long, just watching her, so relaxed and peaceful, but I had horses to feed and fences to mend in the morning, so I forced myself to catch a few winks. I had some spicy dreams, brother, you can bet the ranch on that!

Stay loose, Jesse.

*****