I and the others in earshot smiled at that inquiry from the impressionable young girl. “No, I am not,” I gently and respectfully answered the young girl’s question, “but I do sort of dress like one though, don’t I?” She quickly nodded to me, evidently still obedient to her parent’s command to ‘not talk to strangers.’ But, there was still a questioning expression on her face as she scanned over my manner of dress. I regularly wear a black Clint Eastwood type of hat, washed out jeans, a unstarched patterned business type of shirt, a western patterned type of bandana tied western style around my neck and black athletic shoes. That with my older demeanor and clean shaved, but with a mustache and goatee beard completes the picture. I tend to be very garrulous in manner and am comfortable with conversing to anyone about anything that would be socially acceptable to their interest and place in my current circumstances. I was a very chatty grocery clerk for years and then followed that up with being a very chatty and story-telling cabbie for a decade more. I even talked to anyone who would respond in grocery lines as I awaited having my groceries and almost always, after an initial shock on the recipient’s awareness, got positive and interesting replies. But, I was holding back with this young girl. I didn’t want to startle or scare her and I wanted to respect whatever instructions that her parents were giving here. I raised children myself and chaffed when other good-meaning people tried to undercut my and my wife’s standards of conduct for our kids. So, I had no intentions of interfering with her parent’s control of things, though I didn’t know them or what they might be enforcing for their daughter. But, since she rode the bus each day, and I did several times a week, I decided to lighten the mood between us since she was evidently so curious about me. So, I offered to serialize a story that I had recently produced. In an expurgated version, of course, appropriate to her age. “Would you like to hear a cowboy story, young lady?” At this the other persons about perked up, too, to see what I would share with this young girl. Still being obedient to her parents, she nodded ‘yes.’ Interestingly, from that time forward, by an unknown enforcement, that particular front seat was reserved for him when he rode the bus, and the young girl continued to sit in the front facing first seat right next old to him. The rest of the interested passengers, would organize themselves in the immediate area with regard to each one’s ability to hear him. Even the driver made attempts to not be as noisy about his work as usual, since he was only eight feet away from Marvin with his back to him and very curious about these stories, too. So, Marvin began his story to the young girl, whom he later learned was named Jennie. “There was an old cowboy, age 38 being considered old for that time, who had worked out on the range for several years, alone and in company of other lonely trail hands. They had a terrible cook, who fed them food that they could barely eat and some kind of thick mature black syrupy drink that he called coffee. At least it was hot and wet for them.” With this the little girl smiled in appreciation and his other audience seemed to be enthralled. So, He continued, “This old cowboy, named Hoss and usually called Ole’ Hoss, had been working for the Boss, who owned and managed the ranch for several years, and Hoss was known to be an honest and dependable man. So, the Boss decided to send Hoss to town for a couple of days of fun and to gather a manner of supplies for the ranch that they couldn’t make or grow for themselves. It would be most of a day’s ride and would be somewhat dangerous of a trip.” With that Jennies’s stop came up and she nodded to Marvin and jumped off of the bus. The rest of his audience were curious as to when he would continue the story that they didn’t want to miss and so he remarked for them all to hear, “I ride on Monday’s, Wednesday’s and Friday’s” So the audience talked amongst themselves and designated a couple of them to keep track of the story for those who would not be able to ride on each of japanese those days. And so grew the reputation of the ‘story bus.’ And its ridership increase dramatically over time. The next time that Jennie and Marvin were on the bus together, he continued the story for her after noting her expectant eyes, “So, Ole Hoss stated out with his very experienced horse, Ambler. The horse was named that because unless there was an obvious emergency or it was spurred into spirited action during work, it just took its time in going anywhere. And even though Hoss was in MILF some kind of hurry to get to town, but respectful of the horse’s feelings, he just let it proceed at its own pace, which was, of course, ambling. At that pace, it would take a good part of the day to get to town, but the time taken would ensure that they would not take any unnecessary chances (the adult riders recognized a life lesson there being passed on by Marvin) and any risks could be met without rushing in to them (with this Jennie also recognized what was going on and smiled in response, nodding to Marvin.) The road to town, and it was actually an old cow path and maybe deer path too, was narrow and barely passable in places due to fallen trees, landslides and washouts from gushing streams from japan the melting snows in this high land. But, despite having to divert into very prickly brush at times, Hoss continued to make progress toward the town of his destination. Finally, he came over a rise and could see the as of yet unnamed valley and the ugly dingy little town in its middle. I felt my balls rise up and MILF my cock start to spew a huge load into her womb. “I want to blow you soon Simone, very soon. They finished with all the lighting and mulch around japan the small stuff and old they were done. If you think for one moment I can forgive this-” “I'm going to fill you with my cum, Mom! Half an hour later mature she had given her second blow job, she was literally covered in cum. My entire body trembled, fear clawing through my guts. Hoping that she was turned on by the sight of his throbbing cock last night. The nights there were warm and we slept naked on top of the bed. “And does Molly know about your crush on her?” Gagging sounds came from her mouth as Jane began to deepthroat his dick, taking more and more of him into her throat before bottoming out about an inch shy of his pubes. “What are you saying?” I looked up at my mother, her face wet, her eyes red. "Daddy i love this! And I took her by the hand and escorted her naked body back. He reminded us that tonight my mother was at some pottery class. “Pita!” I whimpered, slamming into her climaxing pussy. Now I could have easily beaten her but I usually let it go on for about 5 minutes before actually trying. The look on his face was wonderful. Her thoughts japanese kept going back to the feel of his body against hers, and she imagined Michael without his shirt.