Date: Fri, 24 Jan 2014 11:27:35 +0000
From: Moonbrand <moonbrand@gmail.com>
Subject: The Cowgirls 1

The Cowgirls
by Moonbrand

This story is copyright the author. It is a work of fiction and contains
graphic descriptions of sexual activity between women. If this type of
activity is likely to offend you, please do not read any further. The
author welcomes comments on her story to Moonbrand@gmail.com.

Chapter One – The Girls Are Back In Town

Sheriff Samuel Docherty shifted his body to the left and peered up the
street. "Girls is back", he said.

His deputy Elijah, sprawled in a rocking chair with his feet up on the rail
of the stoop, used one finger to lift the brim of his hat clear of his
eyes.

"Reckons they is", he drawled, and let the hat slip back down. The Sheriff
shrugged his shoulders for no particular reason and stepped back inside the
office.

`The Girls' were coming off the range onto the main street at a walking
pace. Seven horses strung out in a lazy v formation. At the head was Sally
Merchant, leader, matriarch, and surrogate mother to the all girl pack. As
always the 34 year old had on a brown Derby; tan leather waistcoat,
gun-belt, chaps and thigh length boots. And that was it!. Her waistcoat
flapped open revealing suntanned and slightly weathered breasts whilst the
chaps protected only her inner thighs. Her naked arse was sticking to the
saddle and only her lush, wiry bush protected her pussy from constant
rubbing as they rode.

Behind her, the girls were all similarly dressed. Mary Cotton was at
Sally's left shoulder. A curvy 26 year old black woman who stood out from
the others for obvious reason. A former slave, she now took no nonsense
from anyone. Beside her was Peggy Cale, at 38 the oldest of the seven,
whose flame red hair was thinning now and tied back in a ponytail under her
wide brimmed hat. Behind these two rode Jane French, a boy-ish waif of a
girl who kept her dark hair cut short like a man. She had no breasts to
speak of, and even at 24 could pass for a boy if she ever wanted to.

A little further back were the sisters, Betsy and Barbara Summers. Just two
years apart in age but clearly unmistakeable as siblings, Bets and Babs
could usually be told apart only by the fact that Babs – the youngest at
25 - cut her straw blonde hair in a bob whilst Betsy wore hers long, down
passed her shoulders.

Finally, at the back was the 17 year old Mexican, Carita. Dark, slender and
sultry; always upright in the saddle and usually somewhat detached from the
others, she was however, on this occasion not alone. Riding behind her on
the saddle, naked but for a short leather skirt, and holding her arms
tightly around Carita's waist, was a young Native American squaw.

As the posse rode passed the General Store, Babs peeled away from the
group, shortly followed by her sister. Standing on the veranda was a young
white girl in a prim dress and wearing an apron dusted with a selection of
the products sold in the store. There was a huge grin on her face and she
was standing on tip-toe as Babs drew near on her horse. The cowgirl pulled
up alongside and leaning over put an arm round the shop girl's waist and
with apparent ease, lifted the girl off the ground until their faces were
level. Babs kissed Dorothy Martin full on the mouth before lowering her
back to the floor, climbing off her horse and tying it to the rail. She
then hugged her girlfriend and kissed her with all the passion of lovers
who had been apart for eight weeks.

Betsy pulled her horse up next to her sister's, dismounted and tied it
up. She entered the store where she saw Mrs Alice Martin – Dorothy's
mother and the store owner – looking frustratedly out of the shop at her
daughter and the cowgirl carrying on in public.

"Looks like they're pleased to see each other", said Betsy to Mrs Martin
with more than a little mischief in her voice.

She then pulled out a list from her waistcoat pocket and passed it to the
shopkeeper.

"We'll need these before we head out again. No rush though, we'll be in
town for a few days"

Mrs Martin took the list, glanced at it and put it down on the counter. She
then reached across, put her hand behind Betsy's head and pulled it sharply
towards her own. The couple were soon kissing passionately and once again
the sisters were reunited with their mother and daughter lovers.

Meanwhile, the rest of the riders had reached the Saloon. They dismounted
and tied up their horses before trailing into the saloon. It was not yet
noon but there were still a dozen men in the bar. They all looked around as
the barely clad women trooped in but this was not a new experience for
them. The girls had been coming into town every few weeks for three years
now and the men knew better than to stare at them. They also knew that
however good the girls looked, as men they stood no chance of ever getting
to know them. In fact they had seen the women folk of the town turned to
sin when the girls were around. It had bothered them at first, some more
than others but when the priest walked in on his wife in bed with Peggy
Cale, the demonising sermons had stopped and folk pretty much let the girls
get on with it. It was, after all, only for a few days every couple of
months, and their women-folk tended to be happier and well-behaved the rest
of the time so best not to make a fuss. And so it was as the girls came
in. Some folks just busied themselves with their beer or their cards whilst
others acknowledged the women with a brief nod before minding their own
business.

That would have been that, except Jed Foster was at the bar. A loudmouth
and a redneck, he could tolerate the girls as such but seeing Carita walk
in leading a half-naked injun by the hand was too much for him.

"She ain't welcum here", he spat.

Carita, knowing full well what he meant stared at him with venom in her
eyes and her hand moved toward her gun but before anything could happen
another voice boomed from the top of the stairs.

"I decide who is welcome in my saloon Jed Foster and I say the girls and
their friends are always welcome here"

The speaker was an older woman dressed in a blousy frock. Ma Delaney owned
the saloon and hotel and ruled it with an iron hand. Jed Foster knew this,
and slunk into his seat signalling for another whiskey. Carita and her
girlfriend went and sat at a table by the piano.

Mary, Peggy and Jane went and stood at the bar and ordered beers to wash
the trail dust from their throats but Sally headed for the stairs. She
walked up them and once at the top through her arms around Ma Delaney's
waist.

"Reckon I'll get cleaned up before I have a drink" she said. "Think I can
have me one of your hot baths Ma?"

"I already got the girls heating the water Sal" answered Ma. "And they're
filling the big bath so I reckon I can climb right in there with you and
scrub your back"

Ma took Sally's hand and led her off to the bathroom at the end of the
landing.