Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. BOOGER RED & COWBOY CHAPTER 1 by Waddie Greywolf Name's Gunn, for what the fuck it's worth. Nobody knows me by that name. Ask anyone in our crowd of three hundred hard core bikers, and they'll look at you with a blank look on their faces, muse for a moment, maybe scratch their chin. "Nope! Don't know nobody 'round here by that name." However, ask 'em for 'Cowboy,' and they'll ask you what you want him for? If they're convinced you ain't the law or worse, they just might tell you. "Booger Red's boy? Yeah, we know 'em. Look for the biggest, ugliest, meanest looking son of a bitch you can find with a bald head, flaming red beard and 'stache you'll find the cowboy. Old Booger keeps his little slave on a short leash, if'n you know's what I mean?" They'd tell you with a leering smile through crooked green teeth. They're telling you the truth. The big, son of a bitch does keep me on a short leash. I'm Red's slave; not by choice mind you. He saw me, and decided I was gonna' be his little fuck toy, slave boy, and that was that. Nobody lifted a hand to help me. All of 'em told me how lucky I was to have a good man like old Booger take a shine to me; to take me on, an untrained slave; I should be honored and proud Red decided to be my Master. Ask them if they wanna' trade places with me and take that huge, purple headed, green veined, dick up their butts night after night? Have their throats reamed out when Big Red wanted a little skull pussy, then have their belly's extended from his beer piss? They'd just smile, and tell me, "We wouldn't want to take your job away from you, Cowboy." they'd slap their butts and laugh like hell. "Yeah, thanks a lot guys!" Big Red and his cronies may see me as his slave, and I'll have to admit, I fit the profile. Do I see him as my Master? Do I call him that? No fucking way! He's tried for a year now to get me to call him Master, clean his dirty boots with my tongue, but I refuse. I've had some awful things done to me because I won't do it, but I won't cave in. I won't give him what he wants. "Kill me, you big, son of a bitch! I won't call you my Master. I don't give a rats ass what you do to me or make me do, that's one thing you won't have. I've been to hell and back in Nam, I didn't kiss Charlie's ass, and I damn sure ain't kissing your's, your Goddamn boots, or calling you Master. You got that, you big, ugly, stupid, mean ass motherfucker!" Big Red would back hand me across my mouth and knock me half way across the room. I'd get up, wipe the blood away and just smile at him to make him madder. "Is that the best you can do, Pussy? Hell, my little sister use to hit me harder than that. Maybe if you got yourself a beaded bag you could hurt me?" I knew my life was probably over at that point, but the big bastard would get this funny look on his face, break into gales of laughter, grab me, plant a kiss on me that would break my heart in two. I'd shed a tear, he'd kiss it away, and I'd melt in those big tattooed arms. He knew he had me. Tough love? Booger Red invented the term. "You don't fool me for a minute, you wise ass little beggar! I know you love me! I can feel it when I hold you, when I strum your body like a two dollar banjo, and you resonate like a fine violin. Why won't you admit it, and give me what I want? You know I love you. It could be so much better between us, Cowboy! You won't call me Master now, but you will. Oh, yes! You will! You'll be proud to call old Booger Red your Master and pay homage to his boots like a good little slave. When your heart finally admits you need me and no other, when you recognize me as your owner, you'll kneel at my boots, and you'll realize, Cowboy, you're caught in my net, not just needing me, but hooked on old Booger's sex like a drug addict. Yeah, you'll find yourself becoming a glassy eyed, slack jawed, piss drinking, butt cleaning, boot lick'n, soul starved, come junkie slave, craving in your gut, for what only old Booger can demand from you. You won't be able to get enough of me using you; you'll be lost, floundering, crawl on your belly like a snake in the noon day sun, to grovel at my feet, begging to pay homage to me, for a taste of my boots, crying, pleading with me, to take what I need. When you've convinced me your continued happiness depends on hearing me call you my slave and for me to take from you what I want, when I want it; then; my greatest price, the only value I'll accept, you'll gladly spend to secure your next Booger fix, and you will speak that dreaded word to me in payment, Maaasssteeerrr!" he'd whisper with his deep, bass voice that sounded like he had gravel in his craw. "I'll own you body and soul, Boy! I all ready own your body, it's mine! You ain't never gonna' get away from old Booger, so you may as well give up the rest; otherwise, I'll just have ta' keep taking it from you." he'd growl deep in his animal throat, kissing, petting, forcing his rough love, and holding me tight so I couldn't bolt. "I promise to take good care of your soul, Cowboy, as any good Master would, but you will give it up to me, slave, and you will call me your Master." Then, he'd take me hard. He would carefully and systematically proceed to rape me. I guess you really couldn't call it rape, because by the time he got to the point of forcing sex, I was so aroused, I couldn't hold back if I'd wanted to. I hated him for what he was doing to me and at the same time, wanted it so badly, I was becoming a psychological mess. After he forced any kind of sex on me he always saw too it I got my pleasure, my carrot, my fix; that is, if he wasn't punishing me for something. He was great sex, I can't gainsay that, but he made me do it. The sex was down and dirty, root it out, get it all over you, emotionally exhausting, fireworks and pheromones, man sex. He would force his rough sex on me, make me come all over both of us, then laugh at me and taunt me for responding. I didn't give a shit, my psyche had dishpan hands. I might of enjoyed a few minutes, but what the hell, the big son of a bitch took it from me; raped me! I couldn't help but come; shit, I wasn't to blame, he'd keep working me, slowly building me up, to a point I couldn't return from if I wanted to. How could I fight him? He was a big, nasty ass, ugly, mean mother fucking scooter bum. He'd overpower me, or snap his fingers and have his buddies do it, tie me up, use me like a side of beef, take all he wanted and laugh his ass off when I got so aroused I couldn't help but shoot my load. I didn't do it, he did! I was clean! (I never realized how little homosexual guilt I felt when I convinced myself I remained blameless.) Oh fuck! Be honest with yourself, admit it, you ain't fooling nobody, you loved it! It felt wonderful, complete sexual release without an iota of guilt. Truth was, I was hooked! He was a Master and knew the game a lot better than this naive tenderfoot. It all started the year before I went to Nam. When I came home from Nam, I didn't want to get a nine to five job like all them grunts I'd see going to work everyday; sweating car payments, rent for apartments or mortgages. I had my muster out pay from the army and some money left to me by my favorite spinster aunt. I also had some money from rodeo winnings from the year before I went to Nam. I bought me a big ass Harley and hit the road. BEFORE VIETNAM My aunt, Ethel May Potter, was a school teacher in our small town. I did yard work and fix-it chores around her small house. I had her as my teacher in the third grade, and I made straight A's. She gave me a thirst for learning, and I graduated second in our small high school class of twenty kids. Aunt Ethel or Miss Potter as I had to call her in third grade practically raised me. I was an only child. My mom died when I was a baby, but my dad never married again. He was the owner of the town garage with his partner Joe Potter. Joe was my mom's and Aunt Ethel's brother. He was my Uncle Joe. Hell, practically everybody in our town was kin. Gunn was our last name. Dad's full name was William Arthur Gunn Jr. When he was a kid everyone called him Billy, but after he came back from Korea everyone called him Big Gunn. The garage was called Gunn & Joe's Garage. Catchy name, huh? Well, what da' ya' want? It was a small town. Less than six thousand people. If you wanted your car or truck fixed, you took it to Gunn & Joe. They were fair, and didn't gouge their neighbors. They probably could have made more money than they did, but they were comfortable. Dad kept me clothed and fed good. I got a new pair of boots twice a year and my first pair of shoes for high school graduation. I was Billy Gunn the third, or as my old man jokingly called me, "son of a Gunn da' turd." Sometimes he called me Billy three. He thought, "the third" sounded uppity. Hell, I'm glad he was junior. I never wanted to be called 'junior.' My dad weren't much of a dad. He and Uncle Joe was all the time going off drinking and chasing women. They'd get drunker than lords, and bring home a couple of whores and fuck 'em. He'd pat me on the butt, and scoot me off to Aunt Ethel's to spend the night. It got to where he'd just send me to my aunt's on Friday afternoon, and I wasn't to come home until Sunday afternoon. I didn't care. I loved my Aunt Ethel. She'd do anything in the world for me. Aunt Ethel helped me with my school work all the way through high school. Besides, she made the best damn pies in the county. Sometimes my dad and Uncle Joe didn't always see eye to eye, and one would go after the other with wrenches or socket handles; mean ass, name calling, butt kicking, head bashing, hurtful shit. Dad put Uncle Joe in the hospital for a week one time. They got drunk after work one night, got into a fight, Dad picked Uncle Joe up, threw him across the garage and broke his arm. My dad cried for three days because he hurt his partner. The next Sunday we were in the front row of church with dad holding the hymnal for the three of us; Uncle Joe's arm in a cast. My dad and Uncle Joe weren't bad men. They were just good old boys who never grew up, liked to chase tail together and raise hell. Even though they could tell some wild ass stories, they were actually pillars of the community. They secretly helped those in need, and gave a break to seniors on their auto repair bills. Come Sunday mornings, my dad and Uncle Joe were always on the front row of the First Lutheran Church of our small town, clean, boots polished and singing the loudest. They tithed to the church their ten percent. The folks of the community were dad and Uncle Joe's bread and butter. Then there was my Aunt Laura. She was my mom's other sister, and she was married to the sheriff of our county, Bud Cummings. He'd been sheriff of our county for as long as I can remember, and he's always re-elected. No one ran against him; hell, they wouldn't win if they had. He was a big, good looking, son of a bitch that didn't suffer fools easily. He was a no nonsense, firm, strict, disciplined, and loving man. Even though he was the symbol of authority for our community, everybody loved Uncle Bud. He was sheriff of our county until he died of a heart attack when he was only fifty-five. Folks said the new sheriff couldn't hold a candle to Sheriff Cummings. "Hell, the man can't pour piss out of a boot with the instructions written on the heel! Now, Bud Cummings, there was a sheriff! Good man! A sheriff we could be proud of!" My Uncle Bud and Aunt Laura never had no kids. Never knew why until years later my Uncle Bud told me she couldn't have children. She couldn't have kids, but she and Uncle Bud always considered me their son. Hell, I was always over to their place doing something for Aunt Laura or Uncle Bud. I loved them like they were my mom and dad. In small towns across America every other person has somebody related to them. Uncle Bud's mom was sister to my granddad, William Arthur Gunn Senior. She'd been a Gunn until she married '3G' Cummings (George Garrison Gentry Cummings) or 'Garr' Cummings for short. They had two children, my Uncle Bud and Aunt Harriet. So, my Uncle Bud was my dad's first cousin and my second cousin as well as my uncle by marriage. Some folks thought I looked a little like Uncle Bud. My dad owned the huge, two story house we lived in. It was on one of the main streets of our town. Uncle Joe owned the big house on the corner. There was a two hundred foot wide empty lot between our house and Uncle Joe's. My dad also owned the empty lot. Dad and Uncle Joe built a big, screened barn of a room for proms and church functions for the kids of the community on the vacant lot. They put in a sound system and a stage. It was real nice. The kids from church would go by after church on Sunday nights and do folk dances. A lot of the school dances were held there because it was nicer than the gym. They were always chaperoned by parents. Dad and Uncle Joe were always there to make sure no hanky-panky went on. If a parent was missing their kid, the first place they'd call was the recreation tabernacle between dad and Uncle Joe's place. They had ping-pong tables, pool tables, tables to sit at to play games. The kids loved hanging out there. "Mr. Gunn, is Jannie over to the tabernacle?" "Why, yes, Mrs. Dobbs she's here playing ping-pong. You wanna' speak to her?" "No, Sir, that won't be necessary, just tell her we're having dinner at six. Her aunt and uncle are coming for dinner, and don't be late." "Sure will, Mrs. Dobbs, I'll sent her home 'bout five-thirty." "Thanks, Mr. Gunn." "You're welcome, Mrs. Dobbs." "Hey, Jannie, you gotta' go home about five-thirty. That was your mom. Your aunt and uncle are coming for dinner. She don't want you to be late." "Okay, thanks, Mr. Gunn." The other kids in town thought more of my dad and Uncle Joe than I did. The boys secretly admired the hell raising they did, and all the little girls got wet panties looking at Uncle Joe. He was a handsome devil. Dad wasn't too bad looking himself, and he was big. Little girls and a lot of the smaller boys always seemed to love my dad because he protected the little ones, made sure they were safe. He never talked down to kids. He treated them as 'soon to be adults' and the kids respected him for that. If my dad sat down a rule concerning the use of the tabernacle, those kids obeyed that rule like it had been spoken from the mouth of God himself. Uncle Bud was a hell of a man, and always kept an eye on my dad and Uncle Joe. He loved them both and made sure they didn't get into too much trouble. While they were related, Uncle Bud was firm, but treated them with respect and a little more tolerance than he probably would've someone else. Most times if they were drunk and disorderly, instead of throwing their ass's in jail, he'd take them home and make them go to bed. My dad and Uncle Joe weren't afraid of Uncle Bud just 'cause he was the sheriff but they respected his position 'cause they loved him too. Uncle Bud was the only man in town that could get my dad and Uncle Joe to calm down and do what he wanted them to. Uncle Bud never had to throw either one in jail. Uncle Joe use to chew my dad out about me spending too much time with Aunt Ethel, and should be going to rodeos with him and dad. "Goddamn it, Joe! Don't tell me how to raise my fucking kid! Have one of your own and then I'll tell you how to raise the son of a bitch. We'll see how you like it." "Okay! Okay, Gunn but you know in your heart, I'm right. We shouldn't be leaving that kid behind. Billy's a damn good kid, and you should show him more attention. There'll come a day you'll wish't you hadn't left that beautiful boy behind. I ain't a' gonna' feel sorry for you none neither, when that boy turns and walks away from you and don't look back." That all ready happened in a way. I was crazy about my Uncle Bud. He was the father figure my dad never tried to be. He was at every basketball game and every football game I played. He was called on to be a referee sometimes, but Uncle Bud was always fair and never made a call to our advantage. That's not to short change my Dad because he came to a passel of them. Uncle Bud was one of the only men in my life who wasn't afraid to show me love. He'd put his big arm around me, pull me in tight to his shoulder, tell me he loved me, and how proud of me he was. Dad didn't pay too much attention to me while I was growing up and never seemed to mind Uncle Bud and I getting close. I guess he loved me in his own way. Maybe he left me alone so I'd grow up to be my own man. There I go, short changing my old man again. Truth was, he was always there if and when I needed him. If his boy was hurt or in trouble, my Dad was the first one there. He didn't allow nobody to say nothing bad about his boy, and he was a big enough, mean enough, kick-ass cowboy, nobody did. Uncle Bud became my father. I worshiped the man. He was good and kind to me, took time to teach me and work with me at something special; something special between us, team roping. I loved my Uncle Bud a lot, he was my hero, and I wanted to be just like him. Having your uncle be sheriff of the county, I had to be good boy. Shit, my uncle had eyes and ears all over our county. I couldn't do anything he didn't know about. I learned to be a good kid to win his approval, love and attention. I was loved as a kid, I guess, I just didn't get the love I thought I needed and wanted from my dad. I guess you could say I wasn't raised by any one person. I was raised by several, special, loving people that made up my family. It taught me one thing though, family is important especially when it comes to raising a kid. Not only was Uncle Bud sheriff of the county, he was also one of the last of the American cowboys; strong, stoic, silent, but folks listened when he said something because he didn't say a lot unless it was important. He was a cowboy from the time he was old enough to sit a horse; took to rodeoing like a duck to water. Uncle Bud was good at it too in his younger days; rode the rodeo circuit for a number of years when he was little older than me. The rodeo event Uncle Bud excelled at was team roping. He kept up his roping by going to local rodeos with his partner, Harvey Franks. Mr. Franks was killed in his truck in a bad accident. He wasn't drunk or nothing. He was hit head on by a big-rig, eighteen wheeler truck. The driver was pushing to hard and taking 'crosscuts' to fight fatigue; guess he didn't take enough and passed out at the wheel. Uncle Bud was left without a roping partner. I was coming along as an amateur and he asked me if I'd consider him for a roping partner. Consider? What's to consider? The man was next to God in importance in my life and I'd recently discovered thinking about doing nasty things with him made my pee-pee hard. I jumped at the chance to be the big man's partner. Uncle Bud and I started roping together when I was a freshman in high school, and we got pretty damn good as a team. We was all the time going off to some local rodeo, and we won a lot. Not bad money either. Uncle Bud always shared fifty-fifty with me. He really shouldn't have because he had expenses, but he took care of those. When I was a senior in high school Uncle Bud and I were traveling all over our area on weekends going to rodeos. We were winning like crazy. Uncle Bud rode 'header' and roped the horns and the head of the steer. I rode 'heeler.' I'd come along right after my uncle made his catch, dallied his rope to his saddle horn and turned the steer in a ninety degree direction, then I'd rope the hinders; it's two hind legs, dally my rope to my saddle horn and back my horse to tighten. Dad and Uncle Joe spent a lot of their time rodeoing in team competition roping too. Dad was the bigger of the two. He was a third again bigger than my Uncle Joe. He'd ride lead 'header,' and Uncle Joe would rope the hinders as 'heeler.' They made a little prize money now and then; but mostly, they did it for sport and an excuse to get drunk. We were all the time competing against dad and Uncle Joe. Dad was always bragging about how he and Uncle Joe was gonna' wax our ass's. Uncle Bud would quietly tell him to put his money where his mouth was, and dad would bet him a couple hundred bucks. Uncle Bud and I always won. They just weren't fast enough nor accurate enough. Most times they were too damn drunk. Uncle Bud would ride over to dad, take his big, wide brimmed, straw hat off, and hold it for dad to drop the bucks in. He'd take the money out of his hat, wink at me with a big wicked smile and make a big, animated show of counting it. Then he'd ride back over to me with this smug, self-satisfied look on his face and give me half. I didn't want to take it. "You worked for it, you earned it, Cowboy, take your prize." Just to hear my Uncle Bud call me a 'cowboy' was enough damn prize for me; however, I took the money. I'd done well in high school. Dad, Uncle Joe, and both aunts wanted me to go to college that fall. I had other ideas. I'd talked Uncle Bud into taking a year's leave of absence from being sheriff to go pro-rodeoing with me. Aunt Laura was staying behind because we were gonna' be doing some hard traveling. Just us guys. Somehow, Aunt Laura didn't seem to mind too much. Since they didn't have kids I think they thought of me as their son and she knew it was a dream Uncle Bud and I had. I knew if I didn't go to college there was a chance I'd get called up for the draft and sent to Vietnam. I had to take that chance. I was desperately in love with my Uncle Bud and rodeoing. That's what real men should be doing, I thought, and what better man to be with for a whole year. I hoped Uncle Bud would teach me how to be a man. A year on the road with the man I loved most in my life was too much to pass up. Uncle Bud and I loaded up his cab-over camper and attached his horse trailer to the truck for our two babies. Uncle Bud took his favorite roping pony, a Palomino Morgan mare he named Dolly. I had a small gelded Pinto I loved that could read my mind. I was in love with Guy Madison on T.V. Remember 'The Adventures of Wild Bill Hickok'? Andy Devine was his sidekick. The last film he made was 'Bull Whip' in 1958. Classic western! The man could use a whip. Watched 'Bull Whip' twelve times in the dark balcony of the only theater in our small town. Took my old bandana with me and jacked off every time I watched it. Damn he was hot! So, I named my horse, Madison. My Uncle Bud looked a little like Guy Madison only bigger and more masculine. Madison was kinda pretty. Weren't nothing pretty 'bout my Uncle Bud. He was damn good looking, but he was all man. He didn't take no shit off nobody! He walked like a stud in them big cowboy boots of his, hips slung forward as he sort of swaggered. He'd sort a' sling his big boots in front of him when he walked. That's the way a real man should walk, I thought to myself. I use to walk behind him and imitate his walk. I wanted to walk like that. After our first rodeo on the road, Uncle Bud grabbed two beers from the small fridge in the camper. To my surprise he handed me one, smiled as he popped his open. "If you're old enough to die for your country, you're old enough to drink. Just don't let me catch you drinking in my county while I'm sheriff until you're twenty-one. Less'n you're drinking with me, understand?" "Thank's Uncle Bud, I won't. This is my first beer." "Well, we won today, and I was really proud of you, Son." I was laying in the bunk over the cab of the truck. He reached up, grabbed the back of my head, and kissed me on the forehead like it was the most natural thing he'd ever done. I was surprised, but tried not to show it. It was the first time I had an adult male share an intimate gesture with me. It was a wonderful, unassuming, tender moment I often dreamed of sharing with my uncle. I couldn't stop my old dick from getting hard. I rolled on my stomach so he wouldn't notice, but my face grew warm and then hot. Must be the beer, I thought. Uncle Bud smiled knowingly to see me blush but didn't say nothing. "Thanks for that, Uncle Bud, and I appreciate the beer, too." He raised an eyebrow and chuckled to himself at my double meaning. I drank my beer but didn't really like it. It tasted like horse piss smelled. What did my dad and other men see in this shit? We talked for a while then Uncle Bud offered me another beer. I though maybe the second one wouldn't be as bad. I was wrong, it was worse, but it sure made me feel relaxed. I shucked off my clothes and was laying naked in the bed over the cab of the truck. It was the only bed in the truck. I never slept with underwear on. I don't own but two pair and I wear them only when I go to church. Hell, real cowboys don't wear underwear nohow! Uncle Bud crawled in the bunk next to me and had his underwear on. "You don't sleep with underwear, Son?" "Never have, Uncle Bud, you want me to get a pair and put 'em on?" He mused for a minute and looked at my nude body. "Hell, no! It's just us guys, I'll shuck mine off, too." With that he took off his jockey shorts and threw them on the floor. I couldn't remember ever seeing my uncle naked before. I couldn't help but look at his big dick as it flopped around on the foam mattress. Damn, it was huge and he had a big set of balls to match. He smelled good, too! Damn it! I'm going to have to sleep on my stomach all night, I thought. "Now Son, I'm use to rolling over and throwing my arms around your Aunt Laura, so if'n you wake up and I've got my arms around you think nothing of it, just go back to sleep, okay?" "Sure, Uncle Bud---You could put your arms around me now if you wanted to, I wouldn't mind." He looked at me funny for a moment, then threw his big cowboy arms around me, pulled me up to him in a bear hug. I started getting hard almost immediately. I tried to hide it and was embarrassed. He chuckled. "Does your old uncle turn you on, Son?" "If I lied to you and told you, 'No Sir,' would you believe me, Uncle Bud?" "I would, Son, if'n that little brain between you legs hadn't decided to set itself on a pedestal." We both laughed. "You ever been with a girl, Son?" "No Sir, ain't much interested in girls, Uncle Bud." "I didn't think so, I've watched you pretty close over the years, and I'd a'know'd if you had. Good thing you didn't try to lie to me, I'd a' know'd that, too." "Yes, Sir, Uncle Bud. I'd never lie to you." "Think you're interested in boys, Son?" he asked innocently. "No, Sir, I don't think so, then again, I ain't never been with a boy neither." he laughed again at my answer. "We'll what are you interested in, Billy?" "Men, Sir." "Ooohhh! I see." he mused to himself and chuckled softly, "Weren't you worried I might be upset if you told me that?" "I figured you wouldn't be holding me this way, Uncle Bud, if it'ud upset you. 'Sides, you done told me all my life I could tell you anything and it wouldn't upset you, long's I was honest." "Good point, Son, smart kid! All those things are right. You could've told me that and it wouldn't upset me in the least neither would I love you one bit less that what I do now. You're a good young man, Billy, and I couldn't love you more if'n you were my own son. Have you ever given thought to being more intimate with your old uncle, Son?" "I've jacked off thinking about it, Uncle Bud." "I'd say that's givin' some hard thought to it." Uncle Bud and I laughed at his pun, "I thought maybe you had. I've seen the way you look at me when you didn't think I was looking. I've seen you lick your lips when you look at my old boots like you wanted to taste 'em. I thought once when I hugged you, a couple of weeks ago, you got a big ole hard-on." "You're right, Uncle Bud. I'm sorry, I can't help it. I've been in love with you as long as I can remember." "Ain't nothin' to be sorry about, Billy. When I think about it,...well,....Son, I've been in love with you a while longer than that. I fell in love with you when you were in your momma's arms. I've loved you all these years and watched you grow into a fine young man. One I'm proud to rodeo with and bunk it in with. You feel good in my arms, Son. To tell the God's honest truth,...I've jacked myself off more'n a couple of time thinkin' 'bout you." Uncle Bud brushed his full bushy mustache against my neck and kissed me gently behind my ear. I was in heaven. It was a little strange to have my uncle hold me this way but one I'd dreamed about for so long that it seemed natural now that it was really happening. It just felt right, somehow. "Can I feel you, Uncle Bud?" "It's just us men, Son, of course you can. When it's just us, you and me, you don't never have to ask. You wanna' play with your uncle's old dick, grab yourself a handful. Just be gentle and take it slow. If you want more than just playing with it, I'll give it to you but not tonight. Get use to me, I'll get use to you, then maybe tomorrow, if we win, I'll start teaching you how to pleasure me but only if you want to, understand?" "I understand. I know I ain't never gonna' be interested in girls, Uncle Bud. My old dick goes soft every time I'm around 'em, but a good looking man in a hot pair of cowboy boots'll make me pop a boner every time. I know I wanna' have sex with men, I just don't know what to do or how to go about it. I'd appreciate it if you'd teach me, Uncle Bud. I'd rather learn from someone I love, and I know loves me, than some jerk off who don't know what he's doing or doesn't care." "Sounds reasonable to me, Son. I see you've thought this out. I'm impressed! If'n you're bound to have sex with men, I can at least break you in gently, show you what to expect and what you should do to pleasure another man. We'll take it slow and easy, I'm sure you'll do fine. You've always been eager to please me. Is that why you wanted to go rodeoing with me this year, Son, to teach you about man-sex?" "No, Sir, Uncle Bud. I've told you I've jacked off thinking about making love with you, but I never thought I might get to. I wanted a year with the most important man in my life. That was the main reason I wanted to be with you. I wanted to rodeo with you, watch you and maybe learn from you how to become a man. Those were the most important things to me, Uncle Bud. Honest, I wasn't really countin' on the other but I damn sure ain't gonna' turn it down, if'n you want it 'cause I love you, Uncle Bud." I told him seriously. "Oh, fuck! You have no idea how much I love you, Son. I'd do anything for you, teach you anything you wanted to know about man-sex or just becoming a man." I took Uncle Bud's big, rough hand and put it around my rock hard dick and he stroked it gently several times. "Damn, fine, big cock, Son! Don't feel shy, Cowboy, if you wanna' reach down there and feel me, go ahead. Grab yourself a big ole hand full." I reached down and wrapped my hand around his big dick, and stroked it a few times. My smaller hand would barely fit around it. I'd dreamed of holding my uncle's big dick. My smaller dick got even harder. "You're bigger'n me, Uncle Bud." "I'm older and physically bigger than you, Son. You ain't finished growing yet. You'll get bigger as time goes on. You'll be as big as I am one day, I promise." I slept all night with a rock hard dick, and so did he. With his big arms around me, during the night, Uncle Bud would reach down and gently cup my dick and balls in one of his big hands like it was the most natural thing to do. He held them like he was protecting them; like they were the most valuable things on Earth to him. Life couldn't get no better'n this, I decided. Sleeping in the arms of the man I loved above all others, him holding my cock and balls, feeling his big dick pressed up against my backside. There was no question in my mind, I was the luckiest buckaroo on the circuit. Early the next morning, I didn't ask permission, but I reached over and wrapped my hand around his big dick to feel it again. He told me I could, if'n I was gentle. He kept his eyes closed and let me. I started jacking him off and really got into it. I got between his legs crouched over him so's I could play with myself while I was working on him. I was working him good, and I could feel him getting close. I was glad 'cause I was almost ready to shoot myself. I wanted to take him in my mouth when he shot. I wanted his come in my stomach. I wanted to taste my cowboy uncle. "Can I have it, Uncle Bud? Please, I want to taste you?" "You worked for it, Cowboy, you earned it; take your prize!" His words alone, calling me a cowboy again, made me shoot, and I felt his flow coming up through my hand. I leaned over and put my mouth around the head as he unloaded his big, man size, cowboy load into my mouth. I swallowed and tasted it at the same time. Uncle Bud was strong, tart but on the boarder of being sweet afterwards and had lots of flavors that reminded me of him. He tasted like man, sweat, leather, horses, and beer; all good man flavors. His come was the best damn thing I think I ever had in my mouth. All I knew was if he'd let me I was going to play catcher for as much of his hot come as he would allow me to have. He was spent and pleased I'd taken him. He pulled me up to his big chest and kissed me gently. "Damn fine, Son, damn fine! You made your old uncle feel like a king. If we win today, then later this evening, I'll start teaching you how to please me." "I love you, Uncle Bud, and we'll win today, I know it." "Love you too, Son. I think we got a us a damn good chance of winning. Now, get down there, and clean your boy come off your Uncle Bud with your tongue; do you good to eat your own spunk; make hair grow on your chest." I immediately got down and cleaned every bit of my come off his tight belly and abdomen. I cleaned around his pubes and thighs. He seemed to relax and enjoy my attention while I cleaned him. We did win. We won everyday at the rodeo in Sweet Water. We didn't have much competition, but we won some damn good money. I told Uncle Bud to hang on to my money for me 'cause I had plenty and didn't want to be carrying around a lot of extra cash. There's a special motel in Sweet Water that caters to horse people. They have stables in the rear of the place, and you can stall and board your horses for a night or two. We took care of the ponies, Uncle Bud got us a room and told me to watch T.V. he'd be back in a few minutes. When he came back he had some packages from a drug store. He handed me a box, and told me it was an enema bag to clean myself out. If I wanted him to use me, I had to clean myself so I didn't get hurt and he didn't get dirty. Sounded reasonable to me. He showed me how to use it standing in the shower, and it didn't hurt or nothing. Just washed all the crap out a' me. I had a hard-on the whole time thinking about Uncle Bud sticking his big dick up my ass and fucking me. Damn, just the thought of it almost made me come. I cleaned myself, and he had me walk around to make sure all the water drained out of me. We watched T.V. for a while and had a couple of beers. We were both naked, and I crawled up in his big arms to watch T.V. He leaned down and kissed me gently on the mouth. "Think you got yourself clean enough?" he asked me in a concerned voice. "Yes Sir, I did like you told me. I cleaned until the water was coming out clean." "Good, you ready for your first fucking, young man?" "Sure am, Uncle Bud, can't wait to feel your big dick inside me." "You afraid, Son?" "Not with you, Uncle Bud. You wouldn't let me do this if you thought it was gonna' hurt me. You've been honest with me, told me what to expect and I figure there might be some pain or discomfort my first time. As long as I know, I'll expect it and not be afraid. I sort a' look at myself as a young bronc that needs to be tamed by a big, handsome buckaroo that's an experienced wrangler so's he'll make him a right good ridin' pony for him. "Good way of looking at it, Son, 'cause that's exactly what I plan to do make a good ridin' pony out a' you." He laughed as he bussed me on my neck and I could feel his full bushy mustache tickle me. "This bronc's ready to come out a' the chute, Uncle Bud." "Well, we'll take it kinda slow at first. Then after you get comfortable with me inside you, we'll do us some good fucking. I'll ride your little butt like I do old Dolly. 'Cepen' I won't be using my spurs on you." he laughed at his joke, "Bet I can get you off just by fucking that little ass. Well hell, I'll just fuck you 'til you do come, how 'bout that, Cowboy?" "Sounds good to me, Uncle Bud, as long as you beat that eight second buzzer and stay in my saddle you'll probably win the rodeo." "Oh, I guarantee I'll beat that eight second buzzer and then some, Cowboy. You can try to buck me off, in fact, I hope you try, 'cause it always makes for a better ride when a man's breaking a wild one. Tame you down right nice and take me a good ride in your little saddle." he joked with me as he slicked up his big, hard dick with some KY jelly. "Pull your knees up to your chest and hold them with your arms, Son. That's it! Gonna' lubricate you with this jelly, so my dick will slip in easy and won't hurt you." He started putting the jelly in my hole with one finger, and then he started stretching me with two fingers, then three until he had all his fingers going into me opening me up. Damn, it was a good feeling having Uncle Bud play with my ass. He was gentle but determined and kept watching my face to see if I registered discomfort. It felt good. He worked on my ass for some time to get the muscle loosened enough so his big dick wouldn't hurt me. I wanted to feel my beautiful uncle inside me in the worst way. "Your little ass gettin' hungry for some cowboy dick, Son?" "If your dick feels half as good as you playing with my butt climb in my saddle, Uncle Bud!" "Easy, Hoss, we'll get you saddled up here in a second. I can tell you did a good job cleaning out. You shouldn't have any problem taking me, Son. Even as big as I am, your little hole will accommodate me." He was on his knees below my butt. I couldn't wait; my ass was about to get it's first taste of man dick, and I said a prayer of thanks that it was my cowboy uncle. "Now, I'm gonna' be real gentle with you for your first time, Son. I ain't a' gonna' feed it all to you at once; however, once I get it in I'm gonna' hold it in you 'til your little ass stops arguing with my dick. Man- sex can be a little uncomfortable until you get going. Your ass is gonna' wanna' spit it back out and tell my old dick it shouldn't be in there. I ain't a' gonna' lie to you, Son, it always hurts the first time 'cause your ass is use to stuff coming out, but it ain't too damned thrilled about something being shoved into it. Your little ass is virgin so it's gonna' take some stretching, and that may hurt a little. When your ass calms down, I'll stretch you a little, and after that it should start to feel a lot better for you. By the end of the summer you'll be jumping on my ole dick without any lubricant at all. Just a little spit on my dick, a little on your hole, and you'll slam that little butt down hard on my old cayuse like you were a bronco buster going for the prize. If it starts to hurt, move your ass around, and try to buck me off. It'll be good for you, take your mind off the hurt and give me some good ridin.' Loosen you up quicker too! Ready to come out of the chute, Cowboy?" "Yes, Sir, Uncle Bud, mount this old hoss." He had his big mushroom head of his dick poised at my back door, leaned forward, and let the weight of his big body sink the big head into my virgin ass. Then he slowly but surely worked the rest of it in, filling my ass. "Woah, dogies! Damn, Uncle Bud, that filled me up. Oh, shit, it's start'n to hurt, Uncle Bud. I'm gonna' buck you off, Cowboy. No eight second buzzer for you, Uncle Bud." I was kidding, but I was damn serious. It wasn't just uncomfortable, it hurt! I started moving my ass like a bronco with a burr under his saddle. He held on as I pitched and bucked. I'd almost buck him out of my ass, and he'd slam it home again to the base of his big dick. The more I bucked the looser I got until I found myself doing it just to feel how good he felt sliding back into me. I started laughing and made the sound of a buzzer. "Okay Uncle Bud, you win the bareback riding contest. Son of a bitch, that hurt for a few minutes, but you broke this stallion. You tamed him, he'll ride right nice for you now. Ride him around the arena, Uncle Bud. Take your hat off, wave to the crowd." He fell out laughing then leaned over, and planted a kiss on me that made my ass open even wider for his big dick. "You done good, Cowboy! That old hoss of yours damn near bucked me off a couple a' times. Gave me a good ride, Son! How's that feel, Cowboy?" he asked as he took one big, long, lovingly, gentle stroke to the base of his cock into my butt. I went nuts with the feeling of that sensation. "Feels like I gotta' take a shit, Uncle Bud." "Well, that's natural." he laughed understandingly, "The best part is... I fill you up like that....then I take it out like this,... (he withdrew to the head).... you've shit me out, but now you feel empty don't you?" "Oh, hell yes, Sir, feels better with you in me. Put it back, Uncle Bud, fill me up again." He slowly drove his big shaft back into my ass, and I was once again filled with my uncle's dick. I went nuts again with how good it felt. Never had any thing made me feel so good as my uncle's big piece of meat being fed to my butt. I wiggled my little ass to push back and up to get as much of that fine, prime, grade-a, cowboy beef in me I could. There was a little more he hadn't given me that I took for myself. "Oh, God, oh, oh, thank you, Uncle Bud. Thank you for filling me up again. I can't remember anything that ever felt that bad and that good at the same time. You won the prize, Uncle Bud, fuck your tamed pony's ass, it's your's to ride." Uncle Bud began to fuck me with great love and passion. He was gonna' ride me where he wanted to go, but he was gonna' make damn sure the man under him was enjoying it as much as he was. He made the sweetest love to his nephew any man could. He took it slow and was in no hurry. The more he fucked me, the more my ass opened to him. All of a sudden, it dawned on me, there was no more pain. Damned, if he weren't right, it felt pretty good, too. No,--- it feels fucking great! I found myself working with him, puttin' it up there for him so he didn't have to hunt for it. Meeting him stroke for stroke. He would kiss me so gently and tell me how good I was making him feel, and how much he appreciated me working my ass to give him a good fuck. I also had another realization, I knew I couldn't get enough of this wonderful man's dick in either hole. I was falling heels over head in love with my uncle. He would stop to rest every now and then, ask me if I'd had enough, or did I want him to get us off? "No, please, Uncle Bud, ride me a little more. Now that the hurt's gone, it feels too damn good to stop. That is, if your enjoying it as much as me. Damn, you feel good in there, Uncle Bud! So take your prize cowboy," I joked with him, "ride your tamed pony around the ring several more times, Uncle Bud. Am I pleasing you, Uncle Bud? Does it feel good to you?" He leaned over and gently kissed me on the lips. "Yes Son, it feels better'n good. You feel so damn good I could pop both our nuts in nothing flat, but we'll ride a little more if you want to. I could always use a little more riding a tight, rodeo cowboy's butt." He fucked me so gently and strong. I envied Aunt Laura but wondered how much sex they really had? He was really getting into riding me. Uncle Bud was a man that dearly loved his fucking. He liked it long, slow, deep and gentle. He was in no hurry to get anywhere. He knew the more he fucked my ass the more it would relax and open to him. Before he rode us home he was going to open me like a flower. He stopped and kissed me so gently I almost got tears in my eyes. "I love you, Cowboy." he intimately whispered in my ear. "I love you, too, Uncle Bud." "Son, it feels so good being way up inside you, but do you realize I've been fucking you for over an hour. I think that's enough fucking for one evening. Ithink it's time I got us off. I'm gonna' start fucking ya' pretty hard and deep. You hang on and keep offering that little ass up to me. They more you put it up there and work with me the better it's gonna' be for the both of us. Working your little ass will get you ready and primed for when your cowboy in your saddle is ready to take us to the barn, Son. Trust me, and I'll get us there, Son. Leave the fucking to Uncle Bud, and keep working that little butt for me. If you get near shooting,...holler at me 'cause I'm gonna' fuck you 'til you do,.... then I'll get mine." Uncle Bud started fucking me faster with bigger and deeper strokes. My ass was so open to him it felt wonderful to be helping the man I loved to pleasure himself and shoot his seed inside of me. I kept my ass up for him like he told me so's I could give him the best possible access for his pleasure. He didn't have to hunt for it. I made sure every stroke of his massive shaft found it's way home easily and smoothly. My efforts were working because the more I gave myself to him the more excited I became. I knew his incessant thrusting with his big shaft was about to bring me to climax. "Oh OH OOOHHH Uncle Bud! I can't hold back...you're hitting something in there that Oh, my, God!" "Take your prize, Cowboy, you've earned it, your Uncle Bud's gonna' fuck you 'til you do. Get it, Cowboy!" I shot, shot and shot again trying to bite his dick off with my ass spasming around it. It was the single, best feeling I'd ever had in my life, shooting my load while my cowboy uncle was fucking me. It tripped his come trigger, and he sank one big thrust into me as I felt his come burst into my gut. I could feel it's heat and goodness as he spilled into my ass his hot, cowboy come. He'd tamed his wild stallion and rode him down hard. Uncle Bud won the rodeo. He was one cowboy who earned his prize. "Woah, Damn! That was good, Son. You stayed with me the whole time. I gotta' tell you, Son, for your first fucking you performed like a rodeo champ. That had to be one of the finer man fucks I've ever had, Son." He held me tightly with his big cock still in me and kissed me gently. "Thank you, Uncle Bud, for taking your time and patience to make this good for me, too. I could see how one man could really hurt another if he didn't take his time and fuck him right. I really appreciate you teaching me. During our time together all you have to do is snap your fingers, and my ass is yours, Sir. I'd be proud to catch your seed any time, Uncle Bud." He kissed me again. "Ah, shoot, Son! We'll have lots of time to fuck while we're on the road. You can suck me off while I'm driving. We can have lots of fun with each other, and...it'll keep gettin' better'n better. Think you're gonna' like man-sex, Son?" "As long as you're the man, Uncle Bud, you know I love you more than anybody on this Earth." "I love you too, Son. Now, lets get cleaned up and get to bed. We got a long travel day ahead of us tomorrow." We got in the shower, I bathed and toweled him dry. He was my God, I loved him so much. He had a big, beautiful body and a huge cock. We climbed into one bed together, I curled up in his big, cowboy arms and felt safe, loved, wanted and appreciated. Not only was I a good partner for him, I was a good fuck too. I knew we were going to have a good year together. I slept all night in his arms. I'd wake up and find him pulling me closer and feel his big dick rock hard against me. Once again he'd sleep with both his big hands cupped around my cock and balls, like he was protecting them from the other things that went bump in the night. Come morning, I eased my ass back down on his big shaft until I had it all the way in. Either he was still asleep or pretended to be. Finally he stretched and grabbed me around my waist to plant the last few inches into me. We lay there together for a while with his big dick in me. He let it soak in my butt as he kissed around on my ear and teased me for sitting down on him. "Think you're gonna' like ridin' cowboy dick, Son?" "As long as you're the cowpoke, Uncle Bud." I replied, and he laughed. "Think you want a little more cowboy dick this morning, young man?" "Sure would start our morning off right, wouldn't it, Sir?" "Good thinking, Son. Hold on then, and I'll do us a quick ride." He began to fuck me from behind. It was a little different experience, but it still felt just as good. He fucked me good until he grabbed hold of my dick, gave it three big pumps, I exploded all over my belly and chest and felt him shooting another big cowboy load inside of me. He'd done it again. We lay there for a good while with him still in me. I didn't want him to withdraw, and he didn't either. Finally he kissed me behind the ear and slowly withdrew. "Damn fine fuck, Son, mighty fine! Made me hungry as a bear. Let's get cleaned up, get breakfast and get on the road." I thanked him again for fucking me and getting me off. I told him I loved him again. That summer was magic. We fucked our way across the United States, and won one hell of a lot of prize money. (not for fucking, for team roping!) We were forth in the Pro Rodeo Cowboys Associations standing for team roping. My dad and Uncle Joe damn near shit. They couldn't believe it. They knew we were good, but had no idea we were that good. We always were good, but I don't think we were that good until Uncle Bud and I started fucking. If there was a prize for fucking I'm sure we would've won that, too. Our love making translated into our roping. We were more focused, faster, and more accurate. There was a closeness between us everyone noticed everywhere we went. They all assumed I was his son, and we didn't tell 'em no different. We grew so close we could read each others minds when we were roping. We couldn't miss. We were damn good and getting better every day. One day we saw a Pro Rodeo Cowboys Association magazine with our pictures on the front as one of the three top roping teams in the county. We posed for the picture with a lot of other cowboys as a standard thing for the PRCA. They wanted current photos on hand for their publication. We were stunned when we saw the cover of the magazine. We looked like father and son. Had we grown that close? I looked just like Uncle Bud. I couldn't have walked taller that day. He even commented on it. I'd filled out, gained some muscle and looked damn good. I was no longer a gangly, skinny kid, awkward, somewhat shy and unsure of himself. When I looked into a mirror the image looking back was a tall, fine looking, well proportioned, confident young male and one kick ass, sexy cowboy. I'd take two fingers, adjust my big wide brimmed, black, felt Cowboy hat just up from dead center a scooch and to the right. "Yeah! Who's the meanest looking som' bitch'n buckaroo on the circuit?" I'd ask myself. By the end of that summer, I'd pert'near gotten my uncle's walk down perfect. I'd keep my hips tight, sling my old boots out and sort of swagger from side to side a little. Not too much. Had to be just right to look authentic. Too much and you looked like you was trying to walk like a cowboy. You wanted folks to know you was the gen-u-wine article. "Well, of course he's a real cowboy, Babs, look at the way he walks." Yep, I got it down pat. I'd reach down to either side of my jeans, push my thumbs down between my belt and my heavy starched western shirt, hitch up my pants to square every thing away and give just a little extra accent to my right boot swagger as I checked to make sure my shirt was tucked in all the way around. Don't accent both boots, that's overkill. One hand to the back of 'me' hat and one to the front to square it away again. Gotta' be conscious of the way you look when you're a cowboy. "Yeah, lady," I thought to myself, "learned it from 'me' Uncle Bud and he's a real cowboy! He taught me how to be one, too. Learned me how to walk like a buckaroo. Learned me how to be a man. Yeah, you 'be' look'n at a real, honest to God cowboy." I may never learn too much in life but I sure as hell know how to walk like a buckaroo. I grew up that summer. In the picture Uncle Bud and I had on matching western shirts and black felt hats we'd bought, and we looked enough alike to be brothers. The photographer gave me several glossy prints. I still have today. It's my favorite picture of me and the man I grew to love so deeply that year. Most times the announcer of the rodeo wouldn't bother to see our last names were different and announce to the crowd, "The next team will be a father and son from Mason, Texas. Bud Cummings and his son, Billy. Bud's on leave of absence as sheriff of his county to spend a year rodeoing with his boy. They're rated number three roping team in the nation. They'll be going to the national finals in Ft. Worth this year." The crowd would applaud and cheer. I'd be so fucking proud. Uncle Bud would wink at me, push his hat back on his head, lean over on Dolly and speak softly to me, "Wish't ta'God ya' was my son, Cowboy!" "I sure as hell wish't I was, too, Uncle Bud, I love you so damn much, I ache in my gut sometimes." I would have been anything that beautiful man wanted me to be. I did everything I could that year to try to show him how much I loved him. I cleaned and polished his big boots, kept our clothes clean, rubbed his sore back for him, took care of the horses, repaired our tack and sometimes fixed an evening meal in the camper for us. He was falling deeper in love with me, too. We knew our year together was coming to an end and neither one of us wanted to think about it. We made it to the Calgary stampede and stayed in the home of Mr. Ben Stafford and his family. Mr. Stafford was a big, good looking cowboy. He'd rodeoed with Uncle Bud in their early days. Uncle Bud told me before we got to the ranch he and Mr. Stafford were roping partners. Mr. Stafford owned a big ranch outside of Calgary and lived there with his wife and four kids. Mr. Stafford was rock solid middle aged man. Hard work around the ranch kept his body in great shape. "Bud, I ain't never seen no kid as devoted to his uncle as Billy is. That damn kid worships you. Usually, kids his age are wise ass punks, but Billy is well mannered, intelligent and thoughtful. You should be real proud of him." "I am Ben. How many kids come along you wish't you could say was your own son?" "Not too damn many, Bud, I'll tell ya' !" "He's my wife's sister's boy. He's my nephew. I had a feelin' you'd cotton to 'em." "Hell, the kid looks enough like you to be your son." "Lot of people have said that." Then Uncle Bud pulled out the PRCA magazine with our picture on the cover to show his friend. "Damn, that's spooky, Bud!" "Ain't it?" Uncle Bud would just beam, "Well, his granddad and my momma were brother and sister. I married his momma's sister so that makes us second cousins as well as being his uncle by marriage. There has to be some family resemblance there. Maybe that accounts for the likeness, I don't know." "I damn near shit my pants when I saw this good looking, young buckaroo get out of your truck. It was like I was thrown twenty years into the past. He's the spitting image of you at that age. Made my old heart skipped a beat. My old dick started dripping too." Mr. Stafford laughed. So did uncle Bud. "Everyone just assumes he's my kid, and most of the time we let 'em. He does look a lot like me, I'll admit, but you know what, Ben? I couldn't be prouder of that kid if'n he was my own boy. He's been one hell of a rodeo partner, and we're headed for the national finals in Ft. Worth. We've been living together in that small little camper on my truck for almost a year now, and we've never had a cross word. I've never had to tell him to do nothing. He works his ass off taking care of me and a lot of things I forget. He's just a damn good kid!" "You've really had a good year then, Bud?" "The greatest year of my life, Ben. 'Cep'n the six I spent with you on the circuit. How many men our age get to do it again; relive their youth and have a partner like my nephew?" "I have to ask, Bud, is it like it was with you and me all those years ago?" "Yeah, Ben, he's my boy, I love him so much. Nobody could ever take your place in my heart, Ben, you know that. Billy's like a son to me." The older man wiped away a tear. "You are to him like I was to you, an older brother. You're right about our love though, Cowboy. Still love you today. You know I'll always love you. Never loved a man like I loved you, Bud. Never will again either." The two big men hugged each other with tears in their eyes remembering long ago when they held each other close and made sweet man love to each other. "Hot damn, it's good to see you again, Bud! It's been too damn long, Cowboy. But, ain't it crazy? The way we live our lives? I've got four grown, wonderful children, three of 'em with kids of their own. I love my grand kids, love my kids, love my wife, but my love for you, all those years ago, left a hole in my heart. A hole I never filled. In a way, I don't want to either; I'm happy with the memories. The closest I've come is my love for my boy, Ben Jr. I know the kid loves me too or he'd never put up with my bull shit this long without complaining. He's our oldest and I don't know for sure, Bud, but I think my boy's gonna' like to rodeo with other cowboys. You wouldn't think it to look at him. He's a hard ass lookin' buckaroo and a cowboy to the core; more so than his old man ever was." "What makes you think that, Ben? Seems like a fine young man to me. Hell, he looks just like you when we were partnering on the circuit. He makes a good looking cowboy; he sits a good horse. Has he done anything to make you suspect he might be a butt bust'n buckaroo." Ben Stafford fell out laughing. "I'd forgotten 'bout that title we made up 'cause we hated the 'G' word. Well, did you ever hear of a kid being too damn good?" "Yea, Billy, my nephew that kid'll do anything for me." "That's exactly my point. Nothing I do ever seems to rile that boy. God forgive me, I've done things just to see if I could get a rise out of 'em. 'Course, I told him later I was wrong and I was sorry. He always makes an excuse for me and tells me to forget it. He won't say nothing but once in a while there's a way he looks at me when he don't think I can see and I get this feeling of unconditional love from him like I use to feel from you. He drives me crazy sometimes, I get so damn frustrated. There's been afternoons he's worked his ass off mucking out the stalls in the barn. He'll have his shirt off,...be hot, sweaty, dirter'n shit and it's all I can do to keep from grabbing him, holding him so tight he can't get away and planting a big one right on his mouth. I try to be his dad but part of me wants to love him another way. Sometimes it's all I can do to keep my hands off the boy. So I don't touch him or show him much affection. Hell, I love him more'n the other three put together but I'm afraid to show him much love for fear of ---well, you know. I haven't been fair to him. I made him do all the chores around the ranch while his brother and sisters fucked off. They never offered to give him a hand. I wanted him to do the chores 'cause the other three didn't give a shit and wouldn't do 'em right. I guess they figured if they continually fucked up, I wouldn't be happy with their work and make Ben Jr. do it. That's exactly what I did. He's never complained I put it all on him; does anything I tell him without question. You'd think he'd be jealous of his brother and sisters but he never was. He loves them today. The worst thing is, the more he does for me, the more I take him for granted and I know he wonders why I don't show him more love. As a result, I've ended up with a quiet, loner, cowboy that knows more about ranching and being a buckaroo than I ever will. He's practically a slave to me and neither of us are reaping the benefits. I sent the three younger kids to college. He wanted to go. Made top grades in school, better'n the other three, graduated third in his class. He's a smart kid. I made up some lame excuse not to send him and told him I needed him here. That was a lie, Bud! When I thought about him going to college and being away from me for four years, I damn near went crazy. Truth is, I didn't want him leaving me. He doesn't understand he's become his old man's right arm. He doesn't even know. My wife tells me he thinks I don't love or appreciate him. I've been selfish with him 'cause I love him so damn much. I've paid a price though. He's drifted further and further away from me and I don't know what to do about it. Sometimes we'll be working in the barn or be camped out rounding up strays in the brush and it's all I can do to keep from taking him in my arms. I'd probably scare the poor kid to death." "Have you tried talking with him?" "Naaw, I can't, Bud! I'm his dad. He looks on me like I'm some kind of hero and I need to be his hero." "You might introduce him to another title that means about the same thing; at least it did to me when we were ridin' together." "What's that, Bud?" "Master " "I hate to admit it, and I never would to anyone but you, but the thought has crossed my mind. How do you tell your kid you've fallen in love with him? 'Oh yes, Son, and by the way, I need to be your Master and make a slave of you.' Sweet Jesus, life can be complicated sometimes. I suppose that's why I haven't told him anything. I went through some denial at first, but I'm pretty sure about him. I keep hoping he's the way we were. Then I could share some things with him about my past, about you, what you mean to me, and try to help him understand he ain't different. Not to listen to nothin' them bible thumping son's of bitches tell him. God loves him more'n them stupid bastards. 'Sides that, he's a cowboy and God's got a weakness for cowboys. You know, maybe it's providence that you and Billy dropped by. Maybe it'll be the incentive I need to find the courage to be honest with the boy. When you called and said you and your nephew might stop by I had to run to the bathroom to jack off. I ain't trying to come on to you or nothing, cowboy, it's just a complement I wanted to pass on." "Well, to be dead honest, I was looking forward to seeing you again, Ben, to see what effect you had on me after all these years. I got such a boner, old man, when I saw you come down off that porch, I almost didn't get out of the truck. I was afraid you'd see the wet spot at my crotch." Uncle Bud looked down at the spot in his wranglers and Ben laughed, "See, you big rotten son of a bitch, you still do it to me!" The two men were laughing together, "If it weren't for our obligations to others I'd take you to that barn right this minute." "I'd be right behind you, Cowboy!" They both laughed again, "I have to tell you, learning that about you and Billy makes me love him that much more. I know the feelings that young man must have for you, and I love him for that. I'm glad he's such a fine young man, Bud, even if it's for a while, you deserve his love. I know the kind of man you are, and he'll carry you in his heart the rest of his life, just like I have you. Now, come on, holler at Billy, and the two of you come on in for dinner. It's good to have you, Bud." "Thanks Ben, and thanks,... well,.... for everything." "I love you, too, Cowboy, always will." Uncle Bud called me to dinner. I was looking at the horses with Ben Jr. We let Dolly and Madison out into the pasture to run, and they were having a ball. Ben Jr. was the oldest son of four kids, a younger brother and two sisters. Ben Jr. was my age. He was the only child still at home. He liked to rodeo but never rode the circuit. He'd go with his dad to small town rodeos around Calgary. Ben Jr. was a younger carbon copy of his old man. He walked like him, talked like him and even sat a horse like is dad. One way they differed. He was much quieter and not as outgoing as his dad. He wasn't shy nor standoffish, he just didn't have a whole hell of a lot to say. I always liked quiet people 'cause I seemed to have a natural talent for being quiet with them until they suddenly felt comfortable enough to let me in. Ben Jr. would respond politely to a question but rarely volunteered much conversation. I liked him and thought he was sexy. He and I were drawn to each other 'cause we were the same age and had a lot in common. We just didn't talk much about it. Sometimes, cowboys don't have to." We went in to the big ranch house to a wonderful dinner of fried chicken and all the fixings. Mrs. Stafford was a wonderful cook. Big Ben Stafford and Uncle Bud entertained us for hours with wild stories of their days riding the rodeo circuit together. They had everybody laughing, Ben and Uncle Bud would laugh until they'd get tears in their eyes, but I could see the way they looked at each other that there was more between them than what we heard at the table. Later that evening, Uncle Bud and I lay together in each other's arms in a small room on a back part of their house, I could tell he was melancholic. I had a good idea why. "You and Ben were lovers all those years ago, weren't you, Uncle Bud?" I said quietly. "Was it that obvious, Cowboy?" "Only to me, 'cause you've taught me about man love, I can see the signs." "Does it upset you, make you jealous?" "God, no, Uncle Bud, in a way it reinforces what I feel for you, and I know you feel the same. You haven't stopped loving Ben all these years, and he certainly hasn't stopped loving you. I'd even share you with old Ben if you two could get alone together. I'd stand guard so no one would catch you. "That's the sweetest thing anybody's ever offered to do for me, Son. I love you for that, but I'm afraid old Ben and my days of being rodeo buddies is over. There are some things in life you can't go back and pick up the pieces. There comes a time in life, Cowboy, when you have to say goodbye to everything, even life itself. You gather the goodness, joy, and love, you had in this life, and take it with you to give back to God. Besides, you're my rodeo partner now, and I wouldn't do that to you. I love my cowboy that's ridden by my side this past year. We're partners, we're a team! We're going to nationals either in second or third place depending how we do here in Calgary, and we stand a good chance of winning the whole damn thing. I want us to remember that as the crowning moment of our love together this year. I don't think we would have gotten this far if we didn't love each other so damn much." We won in Calgary! That put us in number two place in the nation as top team ropers. The number one rated team was a father and son from Tucson, Dan Yates and his boy Buck. They didn't compete in the Calgary rodeo, but we'd met them, competed at other rodeos against them, and we got to know them pretty well. Dan Yates was a big strapping, good looking, handsome man; almost as good looking as my Uncle Bud. Uncle Bud laughed at me and teased me. He saw me get the biggest boner watching Dan Yates. I'll admit Mr. Yates could make me pop a boner, but it wasn't him what caused it. It was his son Buck. Buck was a stud! Holy fuck, was he a stud! His picture should've been in the dictionary under the word 'cowboy.' He just looked like a damn cowboy. He was ever bit as good looking as his dad but had a mean, hard look to him. There was something animal about Buck that I was drawn to like a moth to a flame. I wasn't just attracted to him, I wanted to have his baby. He knew it, too. He'd look at me 'til he made me nervous, and I'd look away. He'd get sort of a half grin on his face that said to me, "See something you like, Cowboy, throw your hat over it!" The Yates' were fierce competitors, but when they weren't in the arena they were easy going, good hearted men. Dan Yates adored his son, you could tell, and his son was not too good at hiding his pride for his old man. Uncle Bud and I liked them, and we got along well with them. Hell, we even helped each other from time to time. Uncle Bud and I sensed their love for each other, and they seemed to sense ours. They thought Uncle Bud was my dad, and we never told 'em no different. Hell, we looked a lot like each other. I enjoyed having folks think Uncle Bud was my dad. He did too. The Stafford family were there rooting for us as we were the best team ropers at Calgary. We really celebrated and stayed up for hours talking rodeo to the Staffords and a bunch of other rodeo people. They kept referring to Uncle Bud as my dad, and we never corrected them; a point that wasn't missed by big Ben Stafford. He didn't say anything, he enjoyed sharing the fantasy with us. Ben Jr. didn't either. I think he was hot for both Uncle Bud and I. The next day we loaded up to leave, and Mrs. Stafford made a huge basket of food for us with jars of jellies and jams; homemade pickles, fresh bread, and cookies of all kinds. They really loaded us up. We didn't have to be in Ft. Worth quite a while but was wanted to start heading back towards Texas. We talked about heading home, but Uncle Bud called Aunt Laura and told her we were going sight seeing. We might never have another chance to do this kind of thing together, and he wanted to see some things with me. He told her I deserved it because I had worked my ass off all year to see that we came this far. He loved her, missed her, but he would see her in Ft. Worth. Half our small town was planning on being there, including my dad and Uncle Joe. Uncle Bud had a hard time saying goodbye to his old partner Ben Stafford. He told him he'd see him on down the road. Ben had tears in his eyes as he told him the same. Then the big man grabbed me in a big bear hug and kissed me on the cheek. "You serve your Master well, Son. He's a good man, and I've loved him all these years. He deserves your love. Damn Son, you look just like he did when we were together all those years ago." "Thanks Mr. Stafford, he is my Master, and I love him. I know you loved him once the way I do. I love you too, Sir." He held me at arm length looking at me funny then hugged me again. "I still love him, Son, always will, and I damn sure love you too. See ya' on down the road, Cowboy." "On down the road, Mr. Stafford." We left, and Uncle Bud was driving. We swapped off driving, and he could get some rest by climbing in the camper, or sleep with a pillow in the front with me. Most of the time, he preferred to ride up front if I was driving. I'd been quiet for sometime, thinking about the hole that was gonna' be in my heart when we got home; when Uncle Bud went back to his life, and I went on with mine. I'd spent an exciting year with the man I loved most in the world and with whom I had shared so much. He'd become my world. How could I give him back to Aunt Laura. I knew I had too. I knew I would. I wouldn't lose Uncle Bud, my Master, as big Ben called him, but I wouldn't have this closeness anymore. "You wanna' talk about it, Cowboy?" Uncle Bud asked me. I'd been quiet so long. He knew me too well. "You've become my Master, haven't you, Uncle Bud?" "Ben tell you that?" he asked kinda surprised. "He used the word, and I agreed with him. You know you've become my Master, Uncle Bud." "Only if you want me to be, Cowboy. I'm perfectly happy with the way things are. I couldn't love you more, Billy. We're spending this last two weeks before national finals so we can be together. Do you know what being your Master means, Son? What it implies?" "It means a Master must have a slave?" "That's right, Son. Do you want to be my slave, Billy?" "I all ready am, Uncle Bud. I love you more'n a gunny sack full of puppies. I'd give you my heart and soul to keep for your own. I can't imagine anything I'd rather be than your slave, Uncle Bud." "Billy, I don't think I could turn you into my slave. We don't have that kind of relationship. I love you like you were my son, Billy. You mean the world to me. Let that be enough for us, Son. It's okay if you feel I've become your Master, but let it be. You all ready treat me like I'm you Master. Don't you know I'm aware of that? Don't you know I love and appreciate you for all you do for me? You wait on me hand and foot. You do every damn thing for me you possibly can and then, my sweet buckaroo, you bring your young body to my bed and give it to me unconditionally. I want to think you do those things because you love me, Cowboy, not because you're my slave and compelled by bonding or obligation to do them. The only thing left is kneeling before me and paying homage to my boots." He looked at me, and I saw the flash in his eyes. I smiled at him sheepishly. "Well,... I've thought about that. What difference does it make, Uncle Bud, if I lick them with you in 'em or out of 'em?" I asked innocently. "You been licking my boots without permission, Boy?" he asked in a hard, accusatory tone. Why did my dick get hard, all of a sudden? "Yes, Sir." I said quietly. Not expecting him to get upset. Uncle Bud drove for some time, looking straight ahead, not looking at me, but I could see this faint smile creeping across his mouth like he... wasn't... going...to....smile if it killed him. He turned, looked at me, grinned real big, winked, and we both fell out laughing. Uncle Bud smiled a proud, understanding smile. "I appreciate you sharing that with me, Cowboy. It kind a' touched my old heart. I use to do the same damn thing with Ben's boots. Okay, you win!" he raised both hands off the steering wheel in an 'I give up gesture.' I've seen you lick your lips a hundred times looking at my dirty, old boots like you were a starving beggar that hadn't been invited to the feast. Is that something you really need, Son?" I didn't answer. I sat there in silence. He knew the answer. I wasn't going to push. I wasn't going to tell him how many times I'd taken his big, ole boots when he wasn't around and licked 'em clean, then polished 'em up for him. Best not rock the boat. He was right. Why did I have to have that? I had the best part of him anyway. 'Sides, I can always lick 'em when he weren't around. "I'm sorry, Uncle Bud, you're right, I guess I'm just being crazy. I've heard love does that to a body sometimes." "It sure does, Cowboy. Now, get over here and let me put my arm around you. You look like you need a little cowboy lovin' right now." I moved over in the seat closer to him. He threw his big arm around me, hugged me up close, then kissed me on the head real quick just above my ear. I felt safe and loved. I told myself it didn't matter that he didn't want me to call him 'Master.' I was going to enjoy the rest of my summer with my beloved uncle. He was silent for sometime like he was engrossed in thought. "Okay! I'll make you a deal, Cowboy." he finally said. "What's that, Uncle Bud?" "If you feel you have to show me that respect, need to submit to me that way, I'll go along with you calling me 'Master' but only in private, never in public. You will always be my cowboy. You'll have to settle for that. I won't call you my slave." "That's fine with me, Uncle Bud, you're my 'Master,' and I'm your 'cowboy'." "Always will be, Cowboy." "I love you, Master Bud." "Sounds good to me, Son. I love my cowboy, too. Now, get down there and suck your Master's dick." "Yes Sir, Master Bud, with pleasure, Sir." "Later, when we stop for the night, I'll let you have what you been hanker'n for all year. Before you pull my old boots off, you can clean 'em real good for me but only if you gimme' a good blow job. I want you down there suck'n on my ole dick like a new born calf that can't get his momma's milk to flow fast enough." "You'll get the best sucking you ever had, Master Bud. Can I butt you in the belly to make your come flow faster?" Uncle Bud just roared. "Good one, Cowboy! We understand each other, Buckaroo?" "Yes Sir, Master Bud, and thanks, it means a lot to me." "Well, you made me realize how much it meant to me once; still does, Cowboy. I remembered the hunger in my gut when I'd catch a glimpse of Ben's big boots. Never goes away, Son. He loved me enough all those years ago, to give me what I needed, made a man out a' me, and I damn sure love you that much." We were silent with each other for a long while. "Where we headed, Uncle Bud?" "Yonder, on down the road a piece." End Chapter 1 Booger Red & Cowboy Copyright 2003 Waddie Greywolf