Montana Love part 1

There was no better life than to own and run a ranch in Montana even for a single guy like me. To wake up each day with a view of the snow caped Rocky Mountain in the distance and the smell of bull pine in the air on a warming summer morning was like haven on earth. If there were any drawbacks at all, if was putting up with the macho Cowboy ego’s of the locals and unless you were in to sheep, there weren’t much to choose from for a sexual partner around this neck of the woods. So it’s a good thing drinking is a major sport in these parts, cause as the saying goes, the more you drink the better they look at closing time. As far as the macho Cowboy’s, I was as tuff as they were but growing up in the East I was cut from a different clothe than they were. Even if I hadn’t grown up in Montana I don’t think I would have every taking to their hard sole pointy, ugly Cowboy boots. I had been wearing soft sole Moccasins and Slippers from the age of twelve, not only were they a sexual turn on for me but they also made the statement that I was not a sheep that fallowed the herd, I was my own man. It took some time but the local got use to seeing me around town in Moccasins boots, low cut Moccasins or when the mood struck me my Isotoner Slippers. But still, even after five years, I only wore my Ballet Slippers around the ranch or horse back while checking fences.

Here it was, another Friday night, nothing on TV and not in the mood to sit around alone drinking beer. I decided to head into town to find some action, maybe I would get lucky and get my cock wet tonight. I put on a light blue plaid shirt, my best hip hugger jeans, a bone and beaded chocker around my neck and my sand color soft sole Apache Moccasins boots that I had made. Grabbed my Cowboy hat and headed into Dillon. Dillon wasn’t exactly on the map, oh! We did get some visitor who came to hike the mountains, but for the most part Dillon was one of those small Towns that you hear about. It had one of every thing, one post office, one room school, one food store, one motel, a hardware store and one watering hole, The Do Drop In Bar & Grill. Built in 1800 and 92 and the out side sure did look it. Things were a little slow for a Friday night; there were a dozen or so local and a hand full of out of Towner. I walked to the bar, ordered a beer and headed to the dance floor. Around the dance floor were those table that stood four feet tall with just enough room to set you drink let alone rest your elbows. The chairs were tall too, the kind the let the sole of your foot stay flat with your leg straight out but your ass firmly sited. For a soft sole lover like me they were great because it made it easier to see what other people were wearing on their feet. There were three couples dancing and one dude that surly was not a local. He got my eye right away because the way he was dressed and he was shaking a cute firm ass. He had on what looked like a women off white silk blouse, faded cut off short jeans that were frayed around the legs, Navy blue tights that went down and into a pair of soft black Isotoner Slippers. Yum! Yum! I thought how nice it would be to run my hands down those legs and over the soles of those Slippers. I couldn’t help but wonder if he was into soft soles like me, so I turned to give full view of my Apache Moccasins boots to the dance floor. By himself he danced another three songs but I did catch him checking out my boots more then once or twice. I think he knew that at the same time I was checking out the booty he was shacking around. Has the song ended he walked off the floor passed me and to the bar. He had just the body I lover, stood about 5’8 to 5’9, thin with long legs, small feet and a tight perky ass that I could hump all night long.

I had just started to think that maybe I should go look where he had gone, but as I turn he was standing right in front of me. He said Are you one of those Indian Cowboys I keep hearing about? NO! I replied I just like wearing Moccasins. Me too he said I just spent three days hiking the mountains in a nice pair of Minnetonka Moccasins boots. Mind if I sit here? My name is Kevin, what’s your? I told him that I was all-English, but I went by my Native name of Red Heart. Turn out that soft sole footwear was one of many things we had in common. One beer leaded to another as we talked through the night. It was getting on to closing when Kevin said aim only in Town till Sunday, would you be interested in coming back to the Motel with me. I lend fallow and whispered Broke Back Mountain was a Movie, You’re in a small Red Neck Montana Town that I live in. I can’t be seen going into a Motel room with you. Drive about a mile south on I-90 pull over and wait. When I drive my red pick up passed you fallow me back to my spread. Kevin smiled and said I understand see you down the road, got up and walked out.

Once back at my place I pulled out a couple more beers and took Kevin to the living room. He made himself at home and lay out on the couch with feet up and back to the arms. I set my beer down grabbed his Slippers lifted his feet up and sat under his legs. With one arm I held his legs down as I reach for my beer. Then slowly I started to run my hand along his legs to his ankles and up and over his toes and down the sole of his Isotoner Slippers. Kevin has small beautiful feet, about a size 10 as I slide my hand up the soft sole of his Slippers I gave a gentle squeeze to his foot then continue over the toes and back to his ankle. The nylon tights on his legs felt so sexy as I wrapped my hand around his ankles then worked my way back to the soft sole leather Slipper. Kevin smiled and said I love what you are doing to my foot, but I also can see by the bugle in you jeans that it’s making you hot. With the foot I wasn’t playing with Kevin pointed it flat over my crotch and started to slowly slide it heel to toe over the bugle. He would try to wrap his toes around the shift of my hard cock but the thickness of my jeans and his soft sole Slippers wouldn’t allow it.