A successful rancher died and left everything to his devoted wife.
She was a very good-looking woman and determined to keep the ranch,
but knew very little about ranching, so she decided to place an ad in the
newspaper for a ranch hand.

Two cowboys applied for the job. One was gay and the other a drunk.

She thought long and hard about it, and when no one else applied she
decided to hire the gay guy, figuring it would be safer to have him
around the house than the drunk.

He proved to be a hard worker who put in long hours every day and
knew a lot about ranching.

For weeks, the two of them worked, and the ranch was doing very well.

Then one day, the rancher's widow said to the hired hand, "You have
done a really good job, and the ranch looks great. You should go into
town and kick up your heels." The hired hand readily agreed and went
into town one Saturday night.

One o'clock came, however, and he didn't return.

Two o'clock and no hired hand.

Finally he returned around two-thirty, and upon entering the room,
he found the rancher's widow sitting by the fireplace with a glass of wine,
waiting for him.

She quietly called him over to her.

"Unbutton my blouse and take it off," she said.

Trembling, he did as she directed. "Now take off my boots."

He did as she asked, ever so slowly. "Now take off my socks."

He removed each gently and placed them neatly by her boots.

"Now take off my skirt."

He slowly unbuttoned it, constantly watching her eyes in the fire light.

"Now take off my bra." Again, with trembling hands, he did as he was
told and dropped it to the floor.

Then she looked at him and said, "If you ever wear my clothes into
town again, you're fired."

That's okay ... I didn't see that one coming either.