Found myself staring at the full moon tonight, thinking about how wild nature truly is. Not just the animals—though Orion’s been extra restless lately, his thick cock heavy between his legs whenever I brush him down. No, I’m talking about me. There’s something primal about working this land, feeling the dirt under my nails, the sweat rolling down my tits, and knowing I could bend over the fence right now and take whatever—or whoever—I damn well please. Sometimes I fantasize about one of those city boys who visit the ranch, all clean hands and soft mouths, watching me work and getting hard just from the sight of my ass in these jeans. Bet they’ve never had a woman who could ride them as hard as I ride a horse. But then I remember: this farm, this life—it’s mine. And I’d rather have Orion’s hot breath on my neck and his weight against me than any pretty stranger’s. Still... a girl can dream. (Mood: restless)