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Cowgirl's Real Story

Date: 8/21/2015, Categories: True Story, Author: iqtpy, Rating: 36.8, Source: sexstories.com

and blue ribbon. Hopped on my Briggs and Stratton pop and go minibike and never looked back. You conquer one lamb, you want to conquer them all! I was five. No matter how much gold you have in your lost canyon mine it won’t keep you from growing up. A bull rope cinches up behind the bulls front legs. Cowboys help me down into the chute where a raging piece of meat is waiting to show me just big he is between my legs. I keep telling the bull “Your too big for me, go fuck my friend I hear her pussy is like an ECHO Echo echo.” He’s not listening. The cowboys tighten the bull rope. Keeping it tight, I pull the rope over my right hand, around my wrist and back over the same hand attempting to hold myself down… After eight seconds, if I only have to dust off my boots, I have done it right. If I have to dust off my clothes it probably means I was down visiting my little woodland friends, their so cute. Along with the concussion I received. I should probably think about taking up another career. Settling down perhaps? I understand the concept of cooking and cleaning. Just not how they apply to me! I am pretty sure I was supposed to be a princess, No, seriously….Not the rodeo Queen. I was coming from Coeur d’Alene Idaho to Reno Nevada, about a twelve hour drive. I should have been to Reno a day and a half ago but the shortest distance between two points was under construction. So I stopped in Boise Idaho, which is six hours away from Reno. What’s a girl to do? I went fishing. On my ... way from Coeur d’Alene I wanted to stop and see Hells Canyon. The only way to get there was by four wheel drive from White Bird. With my truck, trust me, I had the right of way whichever way I was going. I could have caught the steamboat to Grangeville, but I wanted to get to the Salmon River before I ran out of time. Catch me a Steelhead. I found a small spot on the Salmon River, I shared with a couple of fishermen. Nice! I had my waders on doing a four count rhythm with my fly fishing pole. Gay men, Lesbians, white, black, Bears aren’t racist. TO THEM WE ALL TASTE LIKE CHICKEN! All I kept thinking was “I only have to be faster than the guy next to me!” I may have one the race, my pants took second! I decided it was time to head for Reno, Nevada. I arrive at the rodeo grounds about three in the afternoon. I went over to get the okay from the onsite doctor. “Your blood pressure is high, Lizzy.” You think my blood pressure is high, check the guy who was running next to me! “I just arrived doc, I will be fine.” I open the front and back passenger doors of my truck. I break open a new package of athletic tape. I need to tape my too big to ride rodeo tits down. I start in the middle of my chest, over the left shoulder, loops around the underneath, over the right shoulder looping around the top of my chest. I push down. “That should do it.” Toting my bull rope and chaps over my shoulder and my spurs linked together in my hand. I casually walked between two rigs, a truck and trailer ...