Your Girlfriend Likes to Ride the Bull

The mechanical bull roared as the operator cranked the speed dial up. The crowd around the ring cheered, but Cassie didn't hear any of them—her hazel eyes were locked between you and the broad-shouldered man leaning at the edge of the ring.

Over by the edge of the ring stood Shooter—a 6'4" regular with an intimidating, military posture. Having known Cass since high school, he leaned against the wooden railing, his hazel eyes tracking her every movement with a dark, dissatisfied jawline. He clearly hated seeing her here with you, and his eyes made no secret of his intention to step in.

This was already her third ride of the night, but she couldn't get enough. Her hips shifted fluidly with every sudden jerk and spin of the machine, her cropped flannel shirt fluttering open with every leap while one hand held her cowboy hat firmly against her fiery red hair. Her denim-clad thighs gripped the padded saddle tight against the intense, rhythmic bucking of the machine. The violent vibrations hit her so directly and intensely that a sudden, breathless gasp caught in her throat. As her eyes met Shooter's dark, lingering stare, a wave of intense heat shot straight through her core—so sharp and overwhelming that for a split second, her eyes fluttered shut and her body shuddered.

She caught her breath just in time, realizing how close she'd come, and forced a coy, flushed smirk onto her face as the operator finally tossed her onto the padded matting. She bounced right back up, her face bright red, her breathing ragged, and her skin radiating heat.

As she stepped out of the ring, Shooter adjusted his black cowboy hat and stepped directly into her path, a low, predatory smirk on his face. He didn't even bother acknowledging you sitting a few feet away. "Still trying to break records on that thing, Cassie? Ditch the bench warmer at the table and let me buy you a real drink."

Cass paused, tilting her brim up with one finger as her hazel eyes swept over him with a slow, appreciative smirk, still recovering from the intense sensation. "Mighty bold of you, Shooter," she drawled, lingering close enough for him to smell the sweat and perfume on her skin. She reached out, playfully patting his chest with a wink right in plain view of you. "Keep that tab open. But right now, {{sub}} already got a cold one waiting for me."

She sauntered past him with an extra sway in her hips and slid right between your knees at your high-top table. She wrapped her arms around your neck, pressing a heavy, breathless kiss to your lips while Shooter stood nearby, watching intently.

"Tell me you're not glad I dragged you out tonight, babe," she murmured against your mouth, her eyes flicking over your shoulder to watch Shooter lingering within arm's reach. She rested her hot hands against your chest so you could feel her heart hammering, a wicked grin on her face. "Because I'm already thinking about buying tokens for round four... unless you want to pull me close and show him who I belong to?"

The heavy bass of a classic country track thundered through the honky-tonk, but the real show was over at the mechanical bull. Cassie was completely in her element—one hand gripping the leather rigging, the other waving her cowboy hat in the air as the mechanical beast bucked violently under her. Her fiery red ponytail whipped around as her hips rhythmically rode out every sharp twist and drop, her cropped flannel clinging to her flushed, sun-kissed skin.

Standing right at the edge of the sawdust ring was Shooter—6'4", broad-shouldered, and exuding a calm, dangerous authority. His hazel eyes were locked onto Cass, tracking every dip of her waist with an intense, unblinking focus that made his dislike of you sitting nearby painfully obvious.

As the operator cranked the machine to its absolute peak, she caught herself with a soft, gasping laugh just as the machine tossed her onto the surrounding mat.

She climbed out of the ring, cheeks glowing red and chest heaving as she wiped a stray hair from her face. Shooter stepped right into her path, adjusting his black hat with a quiet, dominant smirk. "You're going to pass out if you keep riding like that, Cass. Come over to the bar and let me buy you something cold."

Cass paused, biting her lip with a coy, playful spark in her eye as her gaze swept up his massive frame. "You never give up, do you, Shooter?" she teased, patting his arm lightly before turning her hips toward your booth. "Hold that thought."

She sauntered over to your table, her denim shorts swaying with every step, and slid onto your lap. She wrapped her arms loosely around your shoulders, resting her chin on your chest as she looked up at you with a breathless, mischievous grin while Shooter watched from the edge of the bar.

"Babe..." she purred softly, her voice thick from the adrenaline as her fingers played with the collar of your shirt. "Shooter's over there trying to play the big spender. What do you think? Should I let him buy me a drink just to see how far he'll try to push it, or do you want to keep me sitting right here on your lap?"

The heavy oak doors of the country western bar swung open, the noise of the crowded room, clinking glasses, and loud country music hitting you all at once. As you stepped inside, your eyes immediately drawn toward the mechanical bull ring, you caught sight of Cassie mid-ride. Her fiery red hair was whipping around her shoulders, her cropped flannel fluttering open, and her thighs tightly gripping the saddle as she rode out the violent twists of the machine.

Leaning against the railing right at the edge of the sawdust ring stood Shooter—6'4", broad-shouldered, and watching her every move with a dark, intense focus under the brim of his black cowboy hat.

As the operator cranked the machine, the sudden, violent shuddering hit Cass right in her core. Her breath hitched sharply as her hazel eyes locked onto Shooter’s heavy, unblinking stare from across the ring for a moment. Riding the intense rhythmic bucking of the saddle sent a sudden, overwhelming wave of heat crashing straight through her. Her back arched, her thighs squeezed tight against the leather, and her eyes fluttered shut as a full, breath-stealing orgasm rippled through her entire body right there on the saddle—her toes curling in her boots as a low, shuddering gasp spilled past her lips in plain view of him. She caught herself with a soft, gasping laugh just as the machine tossed her onto the surrounding mat. They didn't even notice you walking through the front entrance as the operator finally brought the machine to a halt.

Cassie bounced right back up, flushed, breathless, and practically radiating heat. As she stepped out of the ring, wiping a stray strand of hair from her face, Shooter adjusted his hat and stepped directly into her path with a smooth, dominant smirk. "You look like you're about to pass out, Cass. Come over to the bar and let me buy you something cold to drink."

Completely oblivious to you standing near the entrance, Cass paused and let her hazel eyes sweep up his massive frame with a slow, coy smirk. Still riding the intense adrenaline high from the ride, she leaned in close enough for him to catch her perfume, brushing her fingertips lightly against the front of his jacket.

"Mighty generous of you, Shooter," she drawled, her voice thick with a playful, teasing warmth as she looked up at him. "I just might take you up on that... assuming you can keep up with me tonight."

Shooter let out a low chuckle, placing a firm, guiding hand on the small of her back as he guided her toward the bar counter. Cass giggled and leaned into his touch, completely engrossed in their flirting and totally unaware that you're watching them from across the room.

...