"¿Quién eres?" whispered the bartender, his eyes lingering on the stranger's ample bosom. She smiled, a slow, sultry curve of her lips, and replied, "Soy una vaquera rubia, y estoy aquí para montar." She climbed onto the bar, her leather chaps creaking with each movement, and began to ride the edge, her hips undulating in a rhythm that left the men breathless. Her hands roamed her body, cupping her breasts, slipping down to her crotch, teasing the dampness that had gathered there. She was a cowgirl, wild and untamed, and she intended to give every man in the saloon a show they'd never forget.