Oz Beach Boy and Vid Chat Cowgirls by MyBareTorso..,

NOTES: This is a CFNM female-of-male body worship story with masturbation and mild humiliation but no male-female sexual activity. All characters featured and mentioned are over eighteen. I have a thing for American cowgirls, but no experience of them, so my knowledge comes entirely from watching “Yellowstone” and searching Google. My apologies in advance to any American readers, particularly those from Montana, for any inaccuracies! Though a few minor elements are based in fact, this is essentially a work of complete fiction. This story takes place months before my recent holiday-themed entries.

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It was a wet, miserable, rainy summer’s day in Sydney, Australia. I was horny as hell, but the downpour was so heavy and relentless there was no way I could head outside to try and scare up some action.

Being a permanently libidinous, sex addicted exhibitionist who loves getting his gear off for groups of women in public, I’m always keen to take on pretty much any sexual experience that comes my way.

I’m 25-years-old, gym-fit, and very, very well hung, so I’ve had many highly arousing experiences over the years, but I knew there’d be nothing happening on a wet, dreary day like this.

I considered having a quick pull to some

sexy images of hip hop star and my current crush Megan Thee Stallion, but I needed something a little more illicit.

I decided to try my luck with a random, talk-to-strangers, video-chat website, hoping that I’d land on a group of ladies up for some sexy fun.

The odds, however, weren’t good. I’d found zero success in the past, landing on a host of guys, as well as a few girls so young that I wouldn’t even consider getting anything started with them. Plus, at my age, I’d likely be considered a dinosaur anyway.

I had a quick shave, slicked back my longish brown hair, and put on a button-up shirt and jeans. If I wanted a girl not to instantly hit the “New Chat” button and cut me off, I knew I’d have to look my best.

I’d been told by several women that I was handsome, and I knew I had a great body, so I hoped I might be in with a chance.

I set up my laptop, went to the site, hit “New Chat”, and jumped onto the conveyor belt of desperation that is video chat.

There were Indian guys, stoned guys, groups of guys, Asian guys, guys in hoodies, Arabic guys, old guys, scary guys, naked guys, weird guys, guys jerking off, and glimpses of girls who obviously took one look at me and cut the chat immediately.

Another girl in extreme close-up wearing dark sunglasses with the letters F and U drawn on the lenses with red lipstick berated me violently for a few seconds.

“I suppose you want to see my tits,” she said in a thick Scottish accent. “Well, fuck off, you fucking prick! Go and watch yourself jerk off, you fucking creep!”

I continued for over two hours, hitting “New Chat” nearly as frequently as other people (mostly guys) hit “New Chat” on me.

It was a tedious, disheartening experience, but there was also something strangely amusing and addictive about it. The next chat could always be the one that bore the sexy, kinky fruit.

After an African-American guy in a baseball cap gave me the finger, I hit “New Chat”, and then my heart stopped.

On my computer screen right in front of me, there were suddenly three young women sitting on a banged-up old couch, likely in their early-to-mid-twenties. And they looked like, well, cowgirls.

The three young women paused and obviously looked at the screen of their laptop, checking to see who they’d just been digitally hooked up with. They all smiled, giggled and clapped loudly.

“Well, howdy,” the girl sitting in the middle of the couch said. “You’re a handsome fella…we might just visit with you for a little while, huh? What do you think, girls?”

Her two friends smiled and laughed, and both made an enthusiastic thumbs-up sign at the screen.

I was ecstatic. I’d finally hit pay dirt after two hours on the deadening chat merry-go-round. At least these girls were happy to talk, and I hoped they might be keen to do a little more too.

The three girls were all very good looking. They were in what looked like an old, busted-up caravan or trailer, with peeling, wood-panelled walls and horribly broken down furniture.

There were two posters on the wall behind them: one of a cowboy riding a bucking horse, and the other of a muscled, oiled, naked man in a cowboy hat holding a coiled rope conveniently over his crotch.

A small coffee table in front of the sexy trio was littered with Budweiser beer cans, empty chip packets, shot glasses, coffee mugs, overflowing ashtrays, a half empty bottle of Wild Turkey, and a nearly empty bottle of tequila. These girls really knew how to party.

Also mixed in amongst the good-time debris, however, were an automatic handgun and a large knife in a brown, leather sheath.

These were obviously not the type of girls I usually mixed with. They were much, much wilder. I was fucking excited.

The girl in the middle was clearly the alpha of the trio. She had long, straight black hair, lively brown eyes, and full red lips.

She was wearing blue jeans with a big silver belt buckle, a red-and-black checked, pearl snap-buttoned western shirt, and a white cowboy hat tipped back sexily on her head.

There was a Band-Aid plastered over her forehead just above her right eyebrow, and she had a clearly visible bruise on her cheek.

“Where y’all from, handsome?” the middle girl said in what sounded like a thick rural American accent. “You in the states, honey?”

“No,” I replied. “I’m in Sydney, Australia.”

“Well, fuck me sideways,” the middle girl said, and her friends laughed. “An Aussie? We ain’t never spoke to no god damn Aussie before! Howdy, Hugh Jackman!”

“Hi,” I laughed. “I’m Matt…nice to meet you.”

“I’m Jolene,” the middle girl smiled and waved. “These are my girls right here.”

“I’m Lucky,” the young woman to Jolene’s right winked and casually saluted me in greeting. “Nice to see ya, baby.”

The almost angelic looking Lucky was just as pretty as Jolene. She had long, straight, blonde hair that hung in thick braids down past her shoulders.

Her eyes were big, round and blue, and she had one of the cutest, sweetest smiles I’d ever seen.

Like Jolene, Lucky also wore blue jeans with a big silver belt buckle, but instead of a checked shirt, she wore a tight-fitting Brandi Carlile t-shirt which beautifully accentuated her very big breasts.

The lovely Lucky also sported a back-to-front trucker cap and several turquoise rings and bracelets.

“I’m Maddie,” the young woman to Jolene’s left smiled. “Pleased to meet ya, hoss.”

Maddie was a real looker too. Her hair was wavy and sandy brown, and hung just past her shoulders.

She had gorgeous green eyes, huge white teeth, a round face, and big dimples in her cheeks.

Unlike Jolene and Lucky, however, Maddie had sexily stripped down for comfort, and was dressed in just a tight white tank top and a pair of modest black underpants.

Her tits were big and loose, and they bounced around lasciviously under her tank top, obviously not restrained by a bra.