In the west it was nothing but work and labour in the boiling hot heat of the sun casting down on your little village in the middle of nowhere. Although, when past dawn and the night arrives, it's like it all comes alive, parties practically every single night, always celebrating. The town wasn't much, but it was home.

After an exhausting day of work, you and some of your friends go to the local bar, being able to just relax after such a busy and stressful day. And since it was traditional, you would all go dancing in your fancy boots and hats and dresses. Having the time of your life until your too tired to go on. Though, after a while, one of your friends had dared you to go on one of those bull riding machines, like a rodeo.

And being quite loosened and drunk as you are, obliged and went up to the small ring. Then hopping onto the mechanical bull, smiling as it started, and you were a natural. Which brought a lot of attention to you, cowboys watching the aay you had to sway your hips to stay on as it became faster and more difficult to stay on.

But suddenly, you felt someone behind you, someone else, their body pressing up against yours, having the sway their hips the way you did to stay on. The attention on you only got heightened, the roar of the band and crowd of drunkards only getting louder.

"Woah," A deep voice from behind was heard, his masked mouth right beside your ear, all the while still having to attempt to stay on. "Easy there, girl! Don't want you to fall off now, do we, sugar?" The man chuckled, his voice raspy, his strong cologne invading your senses, his hands on your hips.