“Who the Sam Belly hell is she?”

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Westin is beside himself with mix-up mystification regarding the mysterious Indian girl as he drove his fast car down the street heading for home.  The only person he knew who might shed a little light on her spiritual story is his younger adopted brother, Peter.  He would never tell all what happened to him while playing with Celeste’s body; because it mystified him to dumbness.  He could have sworn they did the deed but knew better it was false.  Even now thinking about the girl as he drove down the back roads his manhood is humming to it’s own tune, and has stayed rock hard after leaving the cowgirl’s farm house from her electrical sexual charge he received. Westin instantly pulls the car over to the side of the road, and rips open the door to get out and tries to calm his hammer stick down before going home.  He begins to separate the crazy scene in his head and finds everything about the strange cowgirl he desires lays on a table ready for him to taste test unconditionally.  “Roar,” he yells out to no one particular and slams his fist on top of the hood of the car.  Westin stops his hissy fit when a car passes him by and barks out to the woods, “Who the Sam Belly hell is she?”  He takes a few moments to process the type of person the girl presents her self to be.  “She is stronger than any girl in body and mind I have dated before, shit man she might be able to kick my ass, and not to mention the chick is lethal with a slingshot, knives, an she’s freaking intelligent in all ways of thinking.  She has all kinds of animals from the forest visiting her house daily in the morning hour light, and replicates their sound to perfection with her beautiful lush lips.  I still can’t believe how quick she healed from having a bruised rib.  Christ man the gal has two different color eyes, and if that don’t beat all I swear they glowed emerald green when she broke a sweat and squirted out her juices like a water faucet who opened it’s valve.  And then there’s her magical private hair that is split equally on each side with white and black hair groomed perfectly into a diamond shape.”  Westin shooed his wild mane free of thoughts and quickly doubled over in pain from having his dick throb its demands to return to the earth girl the minute he spoke about her pubic area.  He takes a few deep breaths and manages to subside the hurt and begins to walk down the street leaving his car behind until he gets himself into check.   He starts to sing a song in order to stop thinking about Celeste, and is rewarded when his pecker deflates.  Westin turns around to retrieve his car while he sang his song out loud to ward off any thoughts about his fabulous magical Indian girl.  Sandra pops into his mind the minute he sits into his auto, and flushes all thoughts of Celeste away.  He finds its better to think about the needy Sandra than harbor sexual deeds with the sweet nature cowgirl, and drives his car at top speed to race for home to have a deep serious discussion with his brother who believes in spirituality and God.

Celeste sits in a leather chair in the living room for several hours watching the flames of life burn the logs she placed into the fireplace after taking her time feeding the farm animals.  She shivers with cold and is drinking a glass of whiskey to ward off thoughts of how Westin made her feel when he touched her body.  She hasn’t spoken since Westin left her bleeding for more of his erotic touch.  She empties the glass of fire liquid down and numbs the hurt of yet another let down in life with a human being.  By the time she is all liquored up and feeling no pain, Celeste unclothes herself and decides to head back to the shower to shave her two tone snatch free of hair.  She scrubs her body hard with her sandalwood soap to get the scent of Westin off her frame, and finishes her deed in no time at all.  The tiny mirror in her grandfather’s bathroom is no longer hanging on the wall when she steps out of the shower and dries herself off.  Celeste ventures into her grandfather’s room and takes note the messy bed.  She strips the bed clean and spots the mutt plastering his nose against the window to be let in.  Celeste gives the room one last glance and shuts the door.  The cowgirl weaves with unsure footsteps with her arms laden in sticky dirty bed sheets.  She opens the door to the two car garage where the washer and drier stands and throws them on the concrete floor.  She stumbles to the front door to let the canine beast indoors, and heads to her simple bedroom with the big dog leaning against her thigh to guide her steps without falling over ready to sleep off her drunken spirits in peace.

Picture by: etherealwellness.wordpress.com

 

 

 

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