Curvy Pen Pal Takes Cowboy Cock

The rain came down in sheets, turning the dirt path into a river of mud the moment Emma’s rental car fishtailed to a stop beside the weathered barn. She’d barely stepped out before the sky split open, drenching her in seconds. Her thin white blouse clung to her full, heavy breasts like a second skin, the pale lace of her bra clearly visible. Her jeans were already soaked through, the denim dark and heavy against the generous curves of her hips and ass.

Caleb was waiting just inside the open barn doors, Stetson tipped back, white T-shirt plastered to the hard ridges of his chest and abs. At thirty-two, the rancher looked every bit the filthy fantasy she’d spent six months stroking herself to in her city apartment. Broad shoulders, corded forearms, and a jaw sharp enough to cut glass. His green eyes locked on her the second she ran toward him, soaked curls sticking to her neck.

They barely made it inside before the heavy doors slammed shut behind them, sealing them in the warm, hay-scented darkness. Rain hammered the tin roof like a thousand frantic drumbeats. The only light came from a single hanging bulb swaying overhead and the occasional flash of lightning through the cracks in the boards.

Emma stood there dripping, chest heaving. Six months of increasingly depraved letters had led to this exact moment. She could still see his last one in her mind, the one that made her come so hard she saw stars: When I finally get my hands on you, city girl, I’m going to ruin that sweet cunt until you can’t walk straight.

“I can’t believe you’re really here,” Caleb said, voice low and rough as gravel.

Emma licked rain from her lips. Her nipples were painfully tight against the wet fabric. “The second I saw you standing there… all those letters… God, Caleb, I’ve been touching myself thinking about you for months. Every night. Sometimes twice.”

His nostrils flared. He took one deliberate step closer, the wet cotton of his shirt stretching across his chest. “You think that’s bad? I’ve jerked my cock raw imagining wrecking those thick thighs and that fat, pretty ass of yours. Every filthy thing I wrote you? I meant every goddamn word. I’ve dreamed about bending you over every surface on this ranch.”

Emma’s breath hitched. Heat flooded between her legs, slick and urgent. She closed the distance until her heavy breasts pressed firmly against his soaked chest. The contact made them both groan.

“Then take it,” she whispered, voice shaking with need. “Take what we’ve both been dying for. I’m done waiting, cowboy. Fuck your dirty little pen pal like you promised.”