TLH_26

TEXAS LONGHORNS
By Waddie Greywolf

Chapter 26

The words this man was telling me made more sense to me than anything I was ever told, heard, or read about man sex. I trusted this the handsome mature man sitting on my couch. He wasn’t scaring me with outrageous demands, they were small things which were very stimulating to me. I found myself wanting to be more under his control. I felt I could lose myself in his strength and maturity. I sensed he knew things, important things about life and living, giving, and receiving; things I was just beginning to learn about. I felt he was a fount of untapped wisdom. I certainly had no doubt he was going to see to it I enjoyed every minute of me giving my ass up to him. There was no doubt in my mind that’s what he wanted either. From the looks of his cock I couldn’t wait to start giving it to him. Other than my plug, I hadn't had anything up my butt in over two months and it was one hungry little piggy. I could swear I heard my ass cry, "Wee, wee, wee," all the way to my bedroom.

“Now that you sucked and cleaned my cod piece would you like to taste your prize, Son?” he asked.

“I’d be proud and honored to taste your cock, Mr. Claymore,” I replied.

“Okay, fine, but there’s a couple of simple rules of etiquette you must follow to enjoy my dick. You must make love to it and clean it with your tongue like you did my cod piece. You must make love to it, clean, and suck my balls a little as well. When I’m satisfied you’re really sincere about wanting to taste my cock, I’ll give you permission to take me, but not before you tell me how much you’d like to taste it and ask permission. It should be no problem for you, you’ve been very polite and courteous so far this evening. Do you understand my instructions, Boy?” he asked quietly.

“That won’t be difficult at all, sir. I would be proud and honored to make love to and clean your handsome cock and balls, sir,” I replied.

“Good, Son, then we understand each other. You may begin. Show my cock and balls some love, boy. Show me how much you'd like to taste your prize. Show me how much you'd like to feel it way up inside yore’ fine, handsome cowboy butt,” he said.

Damn, what’s to fear in being given a few simple instructions about the way the man wants me to make love to his cock? I had dark visions of what I might be getting myself into. The image of Colonel Jarhead flooded my mind, but this man was far from the uncaring brutality of Brad Dunbar. In someways, I felt more love coming from Mr. Claymore, whose penis I was about to make passionate love to, than anyone, save my dad. Of course, I didn’t have a lot of experience to base my opinion on, but I knew this man's gentle control was extremely erotic and arousing to me. He didn’t asked anything of me that was bizarre or way out. Cleaning the inside of his cod piece stopped me only for a second until I got a deep whiff of it. When my poor mouth started watering, I knew I wasn’t about to pass up his gracious offer. I kissed, made love to his cock and balls and systematically cleaned every inch of his big penis and his low hanging testicles. I knew his hot rod of iron was going to feel wonderful up my butt. As I was cleaning under his foreskin I wondered if it would be too bold of me to ask him if he would fuck me with his leathers on. They were so hot and he looked magnificent in them. After a while he spoke gently to me.

“I’m satisfied you’ve made sufficient love to my cock, Boy. Can you tell me how much you’d like to taste it, Son? Then remember to politely ask my permission to take me like you’ve been doing before you’ve done anything this evening? I’d like to know how much you’d like to taste my cock,” he said quietly.

“I’d really love to taste your cock, Mr. Claymore. I know it’s gonna’ be one of the most wonderful things I ever had in my mouth, and it will taste even better when it’s down my throat as far as I can get it, sir. It would be a great honor and privilege for me to taste and suck your cock, sir. Please, Mr. Claymore, may I taste you fine, biker cock, sir?” I asked.

“That was just about the nicest anyone’s ever asked me, Boy. You made some pretty fine love to my old dick. I'm convinced you really would love to suck on it for a while. Of course you may taste my cock. Take it, Boy, it’s yours to enjoy,” he replied.

I was so ready to take him, I thought I never would stop swallowing him down my throat. I thought about when I took my dad, there was none of this. I would just start taking my old man like it was mine; like I owned it; like it was my right as his son to chow down on his fine cowboy cock. In short, this episode with Mr. Claymore made me ask myself how much more would I enjoy and appreciate my dad’s cock if I showed him the respect and consideration he deserves? It must have meant something to me, my old member kept getting harder and was drooling uncontrollably like a slobbering bull released into a pasture of fresh heifers.

After he gave me permission, I could see myself swallowing my old man like a giant anaconda, starting with his big cowboy boots, flexing my huge jaw enough to take him to his waist. I could taste the goodness of his cock the same time I tasted the flavor of his butthole. I would flex my jaw even more to take another huge gulp and take him up to his chest. Only a little more to go, but I wouldn’t need to open my jaw anymore to consume the rest of him. When I took my final gulp and my huge mouth closed over him, I would have all of my wonderful dad inside me. My fantasy sort of gave the term ‘consuming the love object’ new dimensions, and I laughed at myself. E'aup, I was definitely hungry for what Mr. Claymore had to offer, and I was ready for the feast.

Mr. Claymore was building me up psychologically to the point I couldn’t have said no to sucking his cock if I wanted to. I wondered how much sweeter my dad’s penis would taste if he required me to clean and make love to his handsome cowboy cock before he gave me permission to take him. I swore to myself I would show my beloved dad that honor the next time we shared a bed together. Mr. Claymore’s dick was longer but leaner than mine. He remained semi-flaccid even when he was fully erect. He was comfortable to swallow, and I took more and more of him. I was really getting into sucking his penis and giving him some deep throat when he gently place his hand on my shoulder.

“Woah, hold on there, Buckaroo! Back off a minute. Do you wanna’ take my seed by sucking me? I was hoping to spill my load deep in yore' fine look'n cowboy ass this evening,” he said.

“I want you to, Mr. Claymore. Have I sucked your cock enough, sir, or would you like more?” I asked.

“You’ve done quite well for an untrained young man. I damn near came, but somehow, I got the feeling you need me to hold you close and sleep in your cowboy butt tonight,” he said looking deep into my eyes.

“I do, Mr. Claymore, I need to provide that comfort for you, sir, and I promise I'll do my best to see to your pleasure. Ain’t had me no real love’n since I left my pa,” I said.

“Does your daddy make love to you, Son?” he asked.

“Yes, sir, we shared a bed ever since my mom died when I's fourteen. Until I was eighteen he wouldn’t allow me to fuck or get fuck, but we sucked and jacked each other off. I sucked him most of the time, because he can’t get his mouth around my dick, and it almost chokes him to death. H'it don’t matter to me none. I love the taste of my old man’s cowboy cream, and I always come when he shoots into my mouth anyways,” I declared.

“Has he started fucking you, Son? Has he taught you how to please a man?” he asked.

“Dad took me on my eighteenth birthday like he promised. I wanted my dad to be my first. I couldn’t imagine giving my ass up to anyone else but him for my first time. You might say I held out for the very best, sir,” I said sincerely.

“We have some things in common, Young Man. I can certainly understand you and your dad drawing close together for comfort and support when your mother passed away. That’s tough for any man and young boy. You needed his physical love and support. I’m sure he needed yours as well. I’ve watched you grow and develop over the years, and I can tell you’ve turned out to be a fine young man. Your dad should be right proud of you. You conduct yourself like a gentleman. I can tell you've been taught the cowboy way. Ah, Hell, I know he's proud of you. I can tell by the way he looks at you sometimes,” he said.

“Thanks, Mr. Claymore,” I replied.

“You’re welcome, Son, but it ain't nothing but the truth. My dad was a bit more strict with me. He would jack-off with me, but he wouldn’t allow me to jack him off. He would never touch me for sexual purposes. When we showered together, which we did quite often, he touched me as he bathed me, but that was different. I’d bathed him, and then, I'd get to feel him. He wasn’t shy about letting me touch him. When I was a boy, he’d sleep with me sometimes, and I could grab anything I wanted if I got frightened or felt alone during the night. Of course, my favorite thing to hold on to was his enormous penis. It certainly was enormous to a five or six year old boy.

"He never pushed my hands away, and he taught me not to be shy about my body and genitals in front of other men. We’d always get erections when we were naked with each other. We just learned to accept when we were around each other in the nude we’d be hard. He’d let me taste a little of his come from time to time. He frowned at me the first time he caught me scooping up some of his come and eating it. I told him if’n it landed on me, it was mine to eat. I think he was proud and loved me for liking his come. Once in a great while, If’n I begged him enough, he’d take pity on me, scoop up a big finger full and feed it to me. Like your dad, he wouldn’t do anything with me until I was eighteen.

I messed around with my brothers and a few people. A neighbor man I loved very much, who was like an older brother to me, popped my cherry, but I was like you, I couldn’t imagine another man, other than my dad, taking me for my eighteenth birthday. And take me he did. Holy shit! I’ll never forget that fuck’n as long as I live. Although our lives went in different directions, we found time when I came home to sneak away to his fishing cabin on the lake. We didn’t get much fishing done, but we shore’ got in a Hell of a lot of good cowboy love’n. I had sex with my old man until about six months before he passed away in ninety-six. Would ju’ believe I still grieve for him today?”

“I certainly would, sir. I feel the same about my old man. I love him as my dad, but I don’t know’s if I’m ‘in’ love with him or not,” I said.

“I thought that way, too, until one night, after I lost my beloved brother Gip Justin in Nam. I was shot up lying in a hospital when I realized all those years I was in love with my dad, and I guess I never wanted to admit it to myself. When I was young, I thought my brother was the only one I should love, but I’ve learned since that time that’s silly. You can love many people in your life, but every love is gonna’ be different. My love for my brother was unique unto itself, so was my love for my dad.”

“Gosh, Mr. Claymore, you sure do know a lot about life and things. I hope I can learn a few things from you. I think I already have this evening,” I complimented the big man.

“Somehow, I don’t think that’s gonna’ be a problem, Son,” he laughed and winked at me. I blushed, which only made him laugh more.

“Would you like to move to my bedroom? I can’t wait to feel your fine cock up my ass, sir. We could talk more while you fuck me,” I invited him.

“I’d like that, Son. Let’s go get chu’ fucked,” he said and my already engorged penis ached as it got even harder.

I liked this man. I knew I picked the right man out of all of them. I liked the way he treated me. He was strong, firm, gently controlling, but above all I felt he respected me and what I had to offer him. He neither demeaned me nor looked down on my need to please him. On the contrary, he seemed to respect and appreciate my efforts. The more I tried to please him the more feelings of goodness and acceptance I felt from him. I knew I wasn’t going to just get fucked and him run out the door when he finished. There was more to this man, and I wanted to find out more about him. We walked into my bedroom, and his eyes opened wide.

“Is that a leather hide on your bed, Son?” he asked with a big grin.

“Yes, sir. It wasn’t my doing. Dad insisted we get it because we could play on top of it and not soil our sheets. I told ju’ when I suck him off I come ever’ damn time he shoots in my mouth, and not just a little; a puddle. We have to change the damn sheets ever’ time. He saw this in a store and bought it for us.”

“He’s a wise man. I always admired yore’ daddy, Son. He's a damn fine look'n man and an impressive cowboy," he said.

“Thank you, sir, I think my dad’s pert-damn special. Mister Claymore, you done told me if I remembered my manners and asked for something politely, I might just get what I wanted. Am I right, sir?" I asked politely.

“That’s right, Son. Do you have something to ask of me?” he asked.

“Yes, sir. Would you think it was strange or wrong of me to ask you to fuck me with your leathers on, sir?" I asked in reply.

“No, not at all, Son, but in never hurts to remember your manners and ask,” he commended me.

“Mr. Claymore, would you please consider fucking me with your leathers on, sir. I think it would be really hot, and I promise I’ll try to give you the very best piece of cowboy butt you ever had, sir. I’d really appreciate it,” I asked.

He sat on the bed and opened his big arms to me. I was in them in a flash. He held me and gently kissed me. “I think that would be fine, Son. I know how exciting it can be for a boy his first time with a biker. I’d be downright proud to fuck you with my leathers on. With your leather bedspread we won’t mess up anything. You want me to leave my boots on?”

“Yes, sir, ever’ thing but your jacket, sir. When I first saw you at the gas station I thought I would die happy if that big biker would lie down with me and fuck me, even before I realized you were Mr. Claymore,” I confided.

“That’s a sweet compliment, Boy. So tonight, let’s make sure, many, many years from now, when it's your time to go, you’ll remember this evening and get a big ole smile on your face as you leave this earth,” he said and grinned wickedly.

“Sounds good to me, Mr. Claymore, that's a memory I could sign-off to,” I assured him and smiled.

We moved upon the bed and made more love. He began to feel around my ass, and his hand felt my plug. He chuckled. “Yore’ daddy require you to wear that, Son?” he asked.

“Naw, sir. He don’t require it, but he told me one time if’n I wanted to wear it he wouldn’t say ‘no,’” I replied.

“Did he teach you to wear it?” he asked.

“Naw, sir, my cousin taught me, but when I found out it really turned my old man on, I got to wearing it more to please him. It saves him having to lube and stretch my ass before he fucks me. He lost his legs just below the knee in Nam, and he can’t be up on his stubs too long, so if I can save him time not having to stretch my ass, it means more time I git to have my old man in my saddle. I’m used to it, Mr. Claymore, I can sleep with it all night, and if he wants another piece of my ass during the night, all he has to do is pop my plug out and go to fuck’n. He don’t have to loosen me up none or nothing,” I explained.

“It’s a damn good idea. I would’ve never thought of using a plug for that purpose, but it makes one Hell of a lot of sense to me. Yore’ daddy’s an amazing man. I like him more, the more I find out about him. I don’t think I even need to ask if you’re clean,” he said.

“My cousin taught me to clean myself. He done told me it was safer for me and more considerate and respectful of my partner to be clean for him.”

“He right, Son. It’s just a part of manners and it is much safer, especially with a man what’s got a cock the size of yours or mine. You come from an amazing family, Young Man. They trained you well, and trained you the right way. I could tell the couple of times I met you, you were taught manners. When you stop to think about it, that’s all I’ve really been asking of you this evening. Now, let’s us git some biker cock up yore’ cowboy butt. Get me a towel and a bit of lubricant, Son. I’m pretty big. While the plug will keep your ass open and stretched we need some lubricant so’s I won’t hurt chu' none,” he said like he was really concerned for my safety and comfort.

I reached over to the night stand, got a hand towel, and some lubricant. “May I lube up your cock for you, sir?" I asked.

“That’s fine, Boy, go ahead and lube me up,” he said.

“How would you like to take me, sir, from the front or behind,” I asked.

“I thought chu' said you’d like to talk a little more while I fuck you?” he asked reminding me.

“I’d like that, Mr. Claymore.”

“Then I’ll take you from the rear, we’ll relax, get in some good, slow, deep, gentle fuck’n to get your loosened up and ready for me to take you good and proper-like. Can you come while you’re being fucked, Son?” he asked.

“Yes, sir, but you have to fuck me pretty hard, sir. Don’t worry none, I’m used to it. My daddy done broke me good to the saddle,” I said and smiled at him.

He chuckled as I finished lubricating his big penis. He took the towel and indicated for me to turn my backside to him.

“When I pop your plug out, I’m gonna’ slip it all the way in. Take a deep breath, Son,” he warned me.

I took a deep breath. He popped out my plug into the towel, set it aside, positioned the head of his big cock at my back door, and he was in my ass in instant. I didn’t have time to feel any pain or discomfort. I was instantly filled with his goodness. He was kissing my neck and whispering how good I felt. I turned my head to him and we share a wonderful kiss. I felt him pull about halfway out, and shove his cock all the way back into me. It took my breath away it felt so wonderful. I knew I was going get fucked good that night. It’s just what I needed, and I think he sensed it.

I could feel the coolness of his leathers against my naked skin, and it was keeping me hard as a rock. I could put my feet on top of his big boots and lift myself a little off his penis then slam my ass back down on him. He let out a satisfied groan. He put his arms around me and pulled me into him tightly, then he started fucking me a little bit. He got a steady pace going, but he slowed down to some deep slow strokes what made me want to yell at the top of my voice how good and wonderful he felt. Then he put it all the way in me and stopped for a minute.

“I can tell the way you fuck, yore’ daddy is a man who likes his fuck’n and knows how to appreciate a fine piece of ass. He don’t do it just to get his rocks off, he fucks you because he genuinely loves to fuck.”

“You can tell by the way I fuck? Damn, you’re right, sir. I clocked him one night, and he fucked me for an hour and forty-five minutes before he decided to take us to the barn.”

“Do you miss him, Son?” he asked.

“You know I do, sir. I’m convinced you know enough about me now to know that. Ain’t had me no good, satisfy’n, deep, slow fuckings in a couple of months. To be honest, I ain’t had sex with nobody ‘a tall. I think you know that, too, Mr. Claymore,” I said.

“I do, Son, I jes’ wanted to hear you say it. I realized it the first couple of strokes I took into yore’ butt your daddy done broke you in right. You think you might enjoy a good, long fuck’n tonight, Son?” he whispered his question tenderly as he bussed a kiss behind my ear.

“I’d appreciate it more than I got words to tell you, Mr. Claymore. I think I can tell, the way you feel in my ass, and the way you been fuck’n me, you’re like my dad. You’re a man what likes his fuck’n, and can appreciate a fine piece of ass. I would be downright proud and honored if you take all you need, Mr. Claymore. I’ll serve it up to you until you decide you’ve had enough and ride me to the barn,” I replied.

Somehow I got the feeling I didn’t have to explain that metaphor to the big man. He was from the country, and he knew what taking it to the barn meant.

“I’m gonna’ continue fuck’n you like this for a good while. When I decide to fuck you really good, I’ll get on top, and climb into yore’ little saddle. Damn, wish’t I’d a’ brung me spurs!” he exclaimed quietly and laughed.

“I got a pair you could wear, Mr. Claymore,” I assured him. We shared a laugh, but I think we were both hoping the other would ask for them. We continued to talk quietly as he fucked me. I never had an experience like it before. Sex with dad or my brothers was just that. We had sex, but we didn’t chitchat a lot. I really liked talking with him and getting to know him while he slowly and gently fucked me. I could tell he was enjoying it as much as I was. “Mr. Claymore, I know it ain’t none of my business, sir, but don’t chu’ know Mr. Titus is in love with you?” I asked.

He chuckled at my revelation. “I don’t think so, Son. I think I’d know if he was even a little smitten with me. He’s too damn good looking to ever fall for a man’s ugly as me,” he said honestly. I knew he was sincere and didn't think on himself as attractive.

“Meaning no disrespect, Mr. Claymore, but what the Hell are you talking about, sir? I can feel the way you’re fuck’n me right now, any man would have a prize to lie by your side and pleasure your big cock. Don’t think for a minute that’s lost on Mr. Titus none, neither. He just don’t know how to approach you. sir. He probably thinks you wouldn’t want him because he was a master for so long. Maybe he’d love to be your slave. After all, from what chu' done told me, it wasn’t his idea to become a master to the other man. His master wanted it that way, and maybe he was jes’ following his master’s order. Maybe he’d like to go back to being another man’s slave, and not jes’ any man either. There's only one man he's interested in serving, sir. He wants to be your slave, Master Waddie. You don’t see the way he looks at you sometimes. It’s like you's a banquet laid out before him, and he’s a starving man,” I said.

“You sure about that, Son? He ain’t never said nothing. He’s had lots of opportunities,” he said.

“A cowboy don’t never lie, Mr. Claymore. You’s a cowboy; you should know that. I know you gotta' know about the Cowboy Way.”

“I do know, Son. I had it drilled into me from the time I could understand what words mean. I been telling folks about the Cowboy Way for forty years or more. You really think so?” he asked like a school boy who was just told the prettiest girl in school had a crush on him.

“I know so. I’m surprised none of your fellow bikers can’t see it and ain't already done told ju’ before now," I said.

“No one’s said a word. They know us both so well, maybe they just ain’t looking for that sort of thing; however, you would notice if’n you thought we was together, and you was interested in me. You’d be watching us real close to see if you could tell,” he reasoned.

“That’s right, sir, and I swear to you by all I hold sacred, what I’m telling you is the God's gospel truth. Griz confirmed it for me. Griz done told me his 'Friend' told him you and me was to be together for a period of time so's you could regain your confidence in yourself, and I would point out to you the man what would become your slave for the rest of your life,” I said sincerely.

“Griz is a wise man. I could tell you and him hit it off right away. Titus was the one what told me he thought you might want me for the evening and urged me to ask you if you wanted company tonight. I thought maybe he wanted our room to his'self to have sex with somebody. I told him there weren’t a snowball’s chance in Hell you’d be interested in me; however, I thought it wouldn’t do no harm to ask, and maybe get out of his hair for the evening. That ain’t the only reason I asked you though. I wondered, for a number of years, what it might feel like to fuck yore’ fine look’n cowboy butt. To tell you the truth, we didn’t really stop by that gas station jes’ to say ‘hello’ to Fred. I pulled in to check you out. I didn’t recognize you at first either until I saw them violet eyes of yorn. Ain’t see’d you in a couple ‘a years or more and you done grow’d some. This is our first stop on our run since leaving the San Diego area,” he said.

“Well, sir, my daddy done told me if you really love somebody, you think about they’s happiness before your own. Maybe Mr. Titus loves you enough to wanna’ see you have a good time with me. If’n you ain’t been interested in sex for a long time, he must know. Maybe he’s hoping I’ll jump-start yore’ motor, so’s you’ll notice him and get the hongries for some of his fine looking ass – and you c'ain't deny he does have a mighty fine looking ass, sir,” I said firmly.

Mr. Claymore laughed, but I could tell he was thinking about what I said. “C'ain’t gainsay that, Son. I’ve checked out his ass too many times to count. It's almost embarrassing, the way my old mouth starts ta’ water'n and I gits me a big ole hard-on ever’ damn time I look at it,” he confided in me and chucked as he withdrew and took another big, long, slow slide into the depths of my relaxed and open hole.

* * * * * * *
Damn, Master Waddie was fucking me fine. Better than just fine, he was feeling so good in my ass I thought a couple of times I was building up to shoot. I’d ask him to stop for just a minute, and it would pass. We’d stop talking for a few minutes, and he’d concentrate on his fucking. He was like my dad, he really enjoyed his fucking. He slowed down again. I got the feeling he was going to tell me something, and he wanted my full attention when he told me. “Son, I didn’t say nothing in the spa, but I know Bubba Swansey. I know’d him for years. He's a big-old cowboy about my size. He lives in the next county over from the county I was raised in. When I’s a young man, me’n my brother used to compete against him and some other fine looking young man from down around Langtry. It might ‘a been yore’ daddy. I’m sure your dad would remember, but if’n he’s try’n to hide his past he might not want me remembering. That may be why he ain’t never talked with me much, and I never got to know the two of you. I think old Bubba’s from that area. He comes to the Fourth of July rodeo in my hometown ever’ year with his two boys to compete. He’s a huge bear of a man. I like old Bubba, he’s a good man, but he ain’t never beat me at rope’n,” he said.

“You're good, Mr. Claymore. Ain't too bad with a rope, neither," I laughed, and he laughed with me.

“I ain’t too bad, but I’m real interested in seeing how you’ve come along. Push yore’ little ass back onto me. There, that’s the spot. Let’s work on that for a spell,” he instructed me. Mr. Claymore was quiet for a while and fucked me a few good, deep strokes like he was working up to ask me something. “This trip is all about looking for yore’ granddaddy, ain’t it, Son?” he asked. I couldn’t answer him because I felt a lump form in my throat. How could this man know that? Was it a lucky guess? He’s been right about everything else about me. I started to shed a tear or two. He didn’t need an answer, he knew. He felt me melting and kissed me on my neck to soothe and comfort me. “Here, Boy, I’ll have none of that. You feel too damn good in these arms a' mine to be shedding tears. Kiss me, Cowboy, and I'll make them tears run away and leave my boy alone," he demanded softly.

He gently chastised me like he wasn’t going to stand for me feel’n bad while he was providing me with such a fine fucking. I kissed him, and he let me know everything was all right, he understood. He was going to help me make it through the night. He was fucking me so sweetly I could imagine him trying to heal my soul with his big cock. He was doing a pretty damn good job of it, too. “I figured as much,” he said quietly. “Well, I’ll tell ya’ something, you and Rance Harding ain’t the only men I ever see’d with them violet eyes. About fifteen to twenty years ago there was a man what rode with our family for a while. I got to know him pretty well. He was a tall, fine looking middle aged man, but he was very quiet; didn't say much and kept to his'self most of the time. He talked to me when he wouldn’t talk to nobody else. I could tell he was deeply disturbed. He wasn't unusual, as a lot of bikers were. He related to me, because he knew I’d been to Nam, and I was having a lot of problems from what I went through over there. I’d have flashbacks and wake ever’ body up in the camp yelling and screaming. He was a handsome man, and he had deep violet eyes jes' like yorn. They was almost purple. He went by another name other than his real name. I never knew what his real name was.

"He called himself ‘Job’ after Job in the bible. Lots ‘a bikers never use their real names. It’s manners of the road, you jes’ don’t ask. If they wanna’ tell you, they will, but most times they go by some name they take on. I remember he told me, because he was so religious and uptight he turned his back on his two boys and kicked ‘em out of his home for having sex with a man. They were so young they didn’t have nowheres to go, so they lied about their age, up and joined the Marines. They were sent to Nam, and he told me both his boys was killed before he got a chance to set it right with them. I guess it tore him up some’um awful. What he told me and the way he told me, it sounded like it done ripped him a new asshole, Son.

"He was running, searching, and looking ever’ wheres for forgiveness. I weren’t too great a listener then; however, now I realize, he needed to forgive himself first, but it jes’ seemed like he never could. I got the idea he renounced his religion, sold ever’ damn thing he had, bought a Harley and hit the road. A lot of men out there become nomadic bikers because of terrible things what happened to them in their lives or awful mistakes they made in the past for which they jes’ can’t seem to forgive themselves. They see the freedom of the road as a means to escape their pain or seek forgiveness. That’s why seventy-five percent or more were Nam vets during the late sixties, seventies, and even into the eighties.

"Anyway, he told me he took on the name of Job, because Job was a pious Jew in the bible who was persecuted and lost everything, but he never lost his faith in God; however, unlike Job in the bible, he told me he done lost his faith, or at least what he thought was his faith, and was trying to find answers for himself. I felt kinda sorry for him, but to be honest, it sounded to me like he was his own worst enemy. He was pretty much a loner. He rode with our family off and on for several years. He had to know what was going on. We never made no secret about our preferences or lifestyle. We didn’t hide the fact we lived as dominant-masters and passive-slaves. I heard other men say they been with him, and he had an enormous cock. I got no way of knowing if they was telling me the truth or not, except for one man I know, my brother Cassidy. He rode with the man for a while and said he would do almost everything with him, but he was definitely a master type. He would never let another man fuck him nor would he suck another man's penis.

"My brother, Cassidy Crenshaw, was a true cowboy, and I know he would never lie to me. Cass came back from Nam with his face half blown off and looked awful until you got used to being around him. Then you didn’t pay much attention to it. He was still my brother, no matter what he looked like, and I love him with all my heart. I guess he kinda got to ole Job, too. He befriended my brother, saved his life a couple of times, rode with him for several months, and allowed my brother to be his slave for a while. My brother was involved with another master who was a mean-ass, no good, son of a bitch, and he kept going back to him until he’d get so badly mistreated he'd have to leave him to save his life; however, the worst part was Cass would always go back to him.

"After about six months of being his slave, Cassidy left Job to go back with the no good bastard. Job, he done fell in love and begged Cass to stay with him, and he promised he’d make Cass his full time slave. They could ride together, and he would protect him from his evil master. I don’t know whatever happened to ole Job, but I got me a feeling my boy or Bubba might. Why don’t chu’ think about ride’n along with us to my home town for the Fourth of July rodeo, and maybe I can hook you up with old Bubba. I know my boy can, he’s sheriff of the county. My dad was sheriff of our county for years. Now, my boy’s sheriff. We’ll find you a partner or Hell, if’n you’s to considered it, I’d be downright proud to rope with ya myself,’” he said.

“That’ud be great, Mr. Claymore. Damn, you be fuck’n me so fine, sir. Take all you want, Mr. Claymore. If’n you ain’t fucked a man in six years, I’d say you’s a bit overdue; you need a damn good, long-haul fuck’n. I'd be proud to haul yore' ashes, sir,” I said and chuckled.

“I guess you’re right, Son. Yore’ ass is feel’n mighty damn good to me. My old cowboy cock feels right at home up there. Let’s us cut out our yacking for a while, and do us some good-old down-home, deep ass country fuck’n,” he said. I couldn't have agreed more.

He started into fuck me seriously again. I watched my digital clock on the night table next to the bed. He fucked me for over an hour, but I still couldn’t get enough of him. I wanted him to fuck me a least for another hour, maybe two. After another hour and a half of some fine ass fucking he pulled out of me and ordered me on my back. I raised my legs and took hold of them in my arms. He positioned himself again and let the weight of his big body sink his fine cock into the depths of my ass. He started to fuck me righteously. He started in slow enough, but worked his way up to a trot, and then a gallop.

“Talk to me, Son. I wanna’ know how it’s feel’n for my boy. If you need it harder, a word will let chore’ man know, Son. If yore’ man is fuck’n you too hard, let him know. He’s gonna’ give you what you want. He’s gonna’ see to it he gives you what chu’ need, Son, but at the same time he’s gonna’ take from you what he needs. Talk to me, Boy,” he growled at me as only someone can who is totally in control of the situation.

“You’re feeling so fine in my ass, sir. I shore’ could use a bit harder fuck’n, sir. I don’t think you could fuck me too hard, Mr. Claymore. Damnation, you be doing a great job of fuck’n my cowboy ass, sir. Please, sir, fuck me a little harder,” I encouraged him.

“‘At’s all I needed to hear, Boy,” he said.

‘Shit, damn, Hell, fuck! He was already fucking me pretty damn hard. He was deep fuck’n my ass like a crazy man, and I done gone and told him to fuck me harder. Shit!’ I thought. Damned if he didn’t fuck me harder. Woah! Dogies! For a mature man, he could do some pretty awesome power fucking.

“Oh! Hoe-lee shiiit, Mr. Claymore! ‘Ats, it! ‘Ats, it! You’re hit’n my spot, sir. Oh God, oh damn. I feel it boiling up inside a’ me, Mr. Claymore. Harder, sir! Spur your pony hard in the flank, and make him take you home, Cowboy. Ride ‘em to the barn, sir. Oh, damn! I’m sorry, Mr. Claymore, I can’t hold it no more, sir. Ah! Ahh! Ahhhh! Oh, God. FUCK ME, SIR! I’M COMING! Aarrggg!”

“Damn, Son, that feels so good! Yore’ little ass is chow’n down on my dick like it’s trying to bite that sum'bitch off. I’m taking it away from you, Boy. I’m gonna’ spill my seed deep in yore’ fine cowboy ass. Oh, God, I’m there, Boy! You done took me home, Son. Gonna’ fill yore’ hot little hole up with some good, strong cowboy/biker cream. Feel it, Boy? Feel it warm yore' little belly, I’m filling yore’ cowboy ass with my gizz.”

I could feel the big man emptying what felt like six years of stored up biker/cowboy cream up my butt. It felt like buckets full. He pulled almost all the way out and slammed it back into me hard to let another volley of his come shoot out of him into me. He repeated it once more for his third and final volley. He was filling me up. I could feel him. Damn he felt good. My spunk was all over his leathers and my belly.

He leaned into me and began to kiss me, and tell me how great a fuck I was. I was thanking him for such a good fuck’n. He couldn't know how grateful I was. I really needed it. He stayed in me for sometime taking a stoke in my ass ever’ now and then. It would send wave after wave of sensual pleasure through my body. I’d never been to this place before; however, I knew I liked it, and I certainly wouldn’t mind returning. Finally, he had enough and withdrew. He lay on his back, and I got up to get a warm, wet cloth to clean my come from his leathers.

“No, Boy. If you come on a master’s leathers, manners dictate you lick it off with yore’ tongue and eat it,” he said firmly.

“I ain’t never done that before, Mr. Claymore,” I said.

“You eat chore’ old man’s come all the time. Come’s come. Ain’t no different. Time you started learn’n some new manners, Boy. If you come on your old man you should be cleaning him up with your tongue. It’s only respectful, Son,” he said like the voice of reason.

He was certainly was my voice of authority for the evening and his words hit me right between the eyes. Of course, it was the respectful thing to do. I thought for only a second. Damn, this man provided me with the only sex and best ass fuck’n since I left home damn near eight weeks ago. He was like finding a cool oasis in the middle of a burning desert. He was right again, it was time I learned some new manners, and if it pleased the big man for me to learn them from him, it will please me to do so. After all, he ain’t asking me to do something I ain’t already done. I can damn well eat my come off his leathers if it would please him and show him the respect he deserves; to say nothing about his strong, but determined insistence I comply as a matter of manners made my damn prick harder than it was, and I just shot a huge load.

I started in and thought I would surely gag on my own come, but I didn’t. My come tasted damn good mixed with the flavors and taste of his leathers. As a matter of fact, it became so damn sensual, untouched, I shot another huge load all over the bed. He laughed like he was pleased I found cleaning my come from his leathers so stimulating. He grinned real big, looked down at the puddle beneath me, reached over, scooped up as much as he could with his fingers and smeared it all over the toe of one of his big boots. He did it again and smeared the rest over the toe of his other big boot. I didn’t need him to tell me what to do; however, I did remember my manners. “Mr. Claymore, sir, may I lick and eat my come off your boots? I would consider it an honor and a privilege, sir,” I asked.

“Manners will get you most anything you desire from a master, Son. I'd be pleased for you to clean your come from my boots. Git on, ‘em, boy, and enjoy ‘em.” I was on his big, black biker boots in a second, licking and cleaning my come off of them like it was my last meal. I never had such an erotic experience before in my life. While I was on my hands and knees enjoying his boots, I felt him take my plug, and position it at my hole. I raised my butt for him, and he popped it back into my ass. “Now you may get a damp cloth and finish cleaning us, Boy,” he ordered.

“If you told me in the spa I’d be licking and cleaning my come off’n your boots tonight, Mr. Claymore, I probably wouldn’t have asked you to stay the night with me. Now that I have, I can’t imagine being with you again without paying homage to your boots, sir. No wonder Mr. Titus’ mouth waters and he licks his lips ever’ damn time he looks at your big boots? I don’t know nothing about masters and slaves, Mr. Claymore, but if making love to or paying homage to your boots is something you require as a master, or is an accepted part of a slave’s manners, Mr. Titus is eat'n hisself up inside to show you his, sir. I just know it,” I said.

“That you might consider paying homage to this old man’s boots again, Son, is about the sweetest damn thing any man’s said to me in a long time. Com’mer, Cowboy, crawl up here in my arms,” he growled at me, “As far as your observations of Mr. Titus Johannson are concerned, I can only hope and pray you’re right, Son. Time will tell. To make that big man my slave would be to own a treasure of great worth,” he said and sighed.

My big biker held me, kissed me, and played with my plug until I thought I was going to explode again. It was at that moment I began to think about Cowboy drinking his master’s piss in the spa as if it were the most natural thing in the world he could be doing. I thought to myself if it came from this big man’s loving body it didn’t sound so bad a' tall. He got up to go to the bathroom to relieve himself, and I followed him to rinse out the cloth. He started his heavy stream of piss into the toilet. He sounded like a cow piss’n on a flat rock. I don’t know what made me do it, maybe because my daddy told me to try everything once; maybe it was out of my need to please the big man, but I looked at his stream of piss, looked up to his eyes, he knew exactly what I was thinking, winked, slightly nodded his approval.

I grabbed my toothbrush glass, held it under his stream, and collected about two ounces. He watched me carefully to see what I would do. I knew not to smell it. It would smell like a man’s piss, and I might not do what I intended. I simply threw it into my mouth, tasted it, and swallowed all of it. Okay, it wasn’t as bad as I imagined. It was warm and tasted kinda bitter but not too bad. It wasn’t even disgusting to me. Damned if it didn’t taste a little like a hot beer. He pulled me to him, leaned down to me, and gently kissed me. “You didn’t have to do that, Son. I wouldn't require it from someone as inexperienced as you.”

“I know I didn’t have to. You wouldn’t have asked it of me, but I jes’ got to think’n about Cowboy drink’n his master’s recycled beer, I thought about the good fuck'n you jes' gimme,' and how much you’ve come to mean to me in such a short time. I thought if it came from your body, a man I really admire, the idea didn’t sound so bad to me. I wanted to try it, Mr. Claymore. I wanted to taste you, sir, and I ain’t sorry I done it. I ain’t a gonna’ go grab’n Cowboy’s can from his hand if’n we’re in the spa again, but I think I could get used to yours, sir. I must have something to do with attraction and desire.”

“Damn, Son, do I have a natural slave on my hands, here? A man what’s born to serve another man? You seem to have a great need to please a man what’s controlling but good to you. What chu’ jes’ done is pert-damn advanced for a lot of slaves. Most masters don’t require that of their slaves today. I don’t, but I’ll have to say, I was real curious whether you would or not. It told me a lot about you, Boy. That little bit certainly ain’t gonna’ hurt chu’ none. Cowboy still does it because his first master required it of him, he got used to it, he developed a taste for it, and he told you the truth. He’d rather drink his master’s recycled beer than real beer. He don’t do it all the time, jes’ once in a while when he can talk his master into it. Dan ain’t too keen on it, he don’t require either one of his slaves do it, but he wants to keep his slaves happy. Do you think you’d like to be owned by a man and have a master, Son?”

“If you were the master, Mr. Claymore? I wouldn’t think twice, sir; however, I know I ain’t the one for you, Master Claymore, and as much as I’ll always cherish the memory of my time with you, I know'd you ain’t for me neither. Mr. Titus is the slave for you, sir. He’ll become your slave, and I couldn’t be happier for either of you. However, until you make Mr. Titus your slave, my coach door is always open to you, Master Waddie,” I said with all the sincerity I could muster.

“Do you realize you jes’ referred to me as a master, Son?” he asked.

“And with your permission, I will from now on, out of respect for you, sir. As I see it, it's just plumb mannerly,” I said humbly.

“Of course, you have my permission, Son. Damnation, Boy, leave something of this old man’s heart intact. You jes’ ripped out a major chunk of it, but you can keep it, Son, to warm your spirit on some lonely night,” he said tenderly.

“Thank you, Master Claymore. Shall we go to bed, sir?” I asked.

“Lead the way, Boy. You want me to take my leathers off or you want me to sleep in ‘em with you?” he asked.

“Wouldn’t you be uncomfortable, Master?” I asked in reply.

“No, I sleep many nights in my leathers when we’re camping out. It’s much warmer that way, and I don’t have to haul around a big, heavy blanket on my bike.”

“It might be really nice if you decide you want a little more of your boy’s butt during the night, sir,” I allowed.

“Then, I'll wear 'em on top of your leather spread. Do you have something to throw over us?" he asked.

“Yes, sir,” I replied.

I got a big comforter from a drawer under the bed.

He was snapping his cod piece back, and when I saw him standing in front of me, my cock got hard again. He laughed and lay down on the bed.

“That damn thing gives me away, don’t it, Master Claymore?" I asked.

“Ah, but you can’t know what you’ve done for this old cowboy tonight, Young Man. If you look at me and get an instant erection it tells me I still got a few miles to go,” he replied.

I threw the comforter over both of us and he pulled me close to him. He kissed me tenderly one last time. It was a kiss of peace and thanks from both of us to each other. The cool feel of his leathers against my skin was terribly sensual; however, the coolness soon went away, and they became very warm from his body heat. I could feel his cod piece against my butt, and I stayed hard all night long. It was probably a good thing. About four in the morning I felt my plug pop out of my ass only to be swiftly replace by Master Claymore’s cock. He fucked me ever so sweetly. Nothing rough or heavy this time. It didn’t seem to matter to either of us, we both came anyway. He didn’t bother to put my plug back in. He just slept the rest of the night with his cock up my butt. He was the most wonderful man I ever met in my life to that time, and I felt myself falling deeply in love with him. I duly admonished myself, we were but two ships passing in the night. He was not meant for me.

* * * * * * *
The next morning we woke up early. He wanted to return to his room in the main house to clean up and change clothes before breakfast. I begged him to let me suck him off. He complained he might be dirty, he just pulled his cock out of me. I told him I didn’t give a shit, I wanted him. I got on my knees, kissed both his boots, and told him how wonderful it would be to start my day with the taste of his come in my mouth. He laughed and told me to go ahead. I had him lie back across my bed and proceed to claim my prize. I remembered my manners. I didn’t take him until I made proper love to his cock and balls. After he gave me permission to take him I don’t think it took me five minutes to get him off. He flooded my mouth with one of the biggest loads I ever took from a man. It was strong but sweet tasting like his disposition. Although, I knew in my heart Master Waddie could be an imposing figure, I also knew he had a sweet and gentle nature about him. Of course, I shot my wad again in a puddle on the bed. He laughed at me, but this time he let me clean it up. After he left, I licked it up and ate it in his honor. What had I been missing?

* * * * * * *
I was already in the house when Master Claymore and Mr. Titus walked in for breakfast. I almost dropped my damn teeth on the floor. My leather master was transformed into a fine looking, handsome cowboy. I remembered him as being a fine looking mature cowboy, but this morning, he was a knockout. To my embarrassment, I remember pissing a little in my Wrangles, not to go unnoticed, commented on, and laughed about by several of the men. He walked over to me, put his big cowboy arms around me and kissed me good morning.

“Awww – ” the men gathered said in unison. He slowly turned to them.

“Eat your hearts out, Gentlemen,” he said and grinned wickedly. They hooted and laughed again.

I spoke up in Master Waddie’s defense. “I’m the one you gentlemen should be jealous of. I invited one of the finest men among you to my bed, and had one of the most wonderful evenings of my young life,” I bragged.

“Ouuu – ” they responded and then started clapping for both of us.

It was all in good fun. Mr. Titus came to me, gave me a big hug, and a good morning kiss. I thought he was really hot. I watched closely to see if I could detect any jealousy or uneasiness in him from Master Claymore bunk’n it in with me, but there was none; in fact, he seemed happy his friend had such a good evening. It only made me more sure than ever he would make my master a fine slave.

* * * * * * *
After breakfast everyone started out of the house for the barn to saddle up their ponies and start a long day of rope’n and ride’n. I couldn’t believe my eyes when we walked out the front door. I made an audible, “Whoa!” sound in shock. The others laughed at me. I was new and didn’t know what went on there. There was twenty-five or thirty pickup trucks with horse trailers. There was horse drawn carriages, men, women, and children on horseback all coming to watch the men rodeo. There was still two days before the big rodeo in Tucson.

“Happens ever’ weekend there’s a big rodeo nearby, Son.” Master Waddie dropped his big arm over my shoulder to walk to the barn with me. “All the women bring tons of food, and it’s the best damn stuff you ever put in yore’ mouth,” he allowed.

“Mean’n no disrespect, Master Waddie, and begging yore' pardon, sir,” I said quietly so only he could hear me, “the best taste’n stuff I ever had in my mouth was yore’ cream early this morning before you left the double ‘R,’ sir,” I assured him.

He laughed, pulled me tighter into him, and stole a kiss. I felt good with the big man. “Think you might like a little more sometime?” he asked quietly.

“Anytime you care to honor me, Master. I wasn’t kidding when I told ju’ the door to the Double R ain’t never locked for you. You don’t never have to knock, sir. I’d like for you to think a’ my butt as a second home for your fine cock, Master, anytime you need it,” I said and he grinned.

“I’ll keep that in mind, Cowboy. That should be enough to keep me hard all damn day,” he said laughing, and I laughed with him.

* * * * * * *
I brought my saddle to the barn the previous evening. Cowboy showed me where to store it in their tack room. I wasn’t worried about it, there must have been thirty saddles in the big room of various styles and sizes. I got my saddle, took it to the stall where Rocky was. He seemed glad to see me. I don’t know what got into him, but he was raring to go. He was hyperactive. I almost couldn’t get my saddle on him. I told him the sooner he calmed down and let me finish, the quicker we were going to get into the arena. He calmed right down, but he gave me kind of a disgusted snort. I laughed at him and told him the same to you fellow. When I rode him into the area the rest of the men were already saddled up and waiting for me. Master Claymore sat a fine horse. Not only was my master a hot looking biker, but he was also one Hell of a good looking cowpoke. Damn he was fine looking on his pony. I could tell just the way he sat his pony he’d been a horseman for years. “Since you’re new, Son, they all wanna’ see what chu’ got. We’ll go first. What’da ya’ ride, Boy, header or heeler?" Master Waddie asked.

“Either one equally well, sir,” I replied.

“Good Man! So do I; however, for our first run, I’ll rope header and you ride heeler,” he said.

“Fine, sir,” I replied. We rode over to the stocks together, and I was coiling my rope getting set up for the run. I was surprised. A couple of the bikers were in their cowboy clothes and manning the stocks.

“Watch me out of the corner of yore’ eye, Son. Don’t look over at me, it’ll break your concentration, and slow your time. When you see me spur my pony, spur yours right after. Don’t worry none about jump’n the barrier. You let me worry about that,” he instructed me.

“Yes, sir, Master,” I replied softly and winked at him. So help me, he blushed. I couldn’t believe it. He was still red and laughing to himself as he got himself lined up for our run. All eyes were on us. Being under pressure only made me focus better. I was ready. The steer was released, and I saw him spur his pony. I immediately spurred mine, and as soon as Rocky cleared the gate I was shocked to find my wonderful master from the night before already roped the steer’s head and turned him. All I had to do was toss my rope and dally. Rocky was already backing up, and we were through. Our time was eight seconds. It was an arena record and good enough to get us a round of applause and pats on the back. Master Claymore rode over to me with the biggest shit eat’n grin on his face.

“Y’ain’t bad, Kid. Y’ain’t bad ‘a tall! And, you toss a rope pretty damn good, too,” he laughed and winked at me, “Yore’ daddy done taught chu’ right, Son. I can tell you learn’t from a champion,” he complimented me.

“My daddy was and still is a champion, sir. What about you? You done blew me away. When my pony cleared the gate, you already done had that critter turned. Fastest damn rope’n I ever did see. Dad and I ain’t never got that low a time. I hear’d you tell someone you ain’t got a partner for the rodeo this year. I’d like to ask you to be my partner, sir, but I wanna’ save it until I can ask you right proper-like, Master Waddie,” I said humbly.

He smiled real big at me. “I’d like that, Son. I’d like that very much. A boy should always remember his manners. You’ve already learned a lot. You’ve learned manners and being courteous will almost always git chu’ what chu’ want,” he said and winked at me. It was my turn to blush. He pointed a finger at me and roared with laughter. I don’t know what it was about Master Waddie, but he always seemed to bring out the best in me. His recycled beer didn’t taste to damn shabby, neither. Damn it! Why did my dick just get hard thinking about it. I laughed at myself. We rodeoed all damn day. We broke for lunch and Master Waddie was right. It was great food. I ate too much. I was sitting with Master Claymore and several of his biker buddies eating lunch. We were talking about the morning and who had some good runs.

“You and Casey took all the top times today, Waddie. You gonna’ rope with him come Saturday?” Dan Yates asked him.

“Ain’t chu’ and Cowboy roping, Dan?” Master Claymore asked.

“We might. Since you and Casey seem to be so hot, you might be some strong competition for us. Hell, we didn’t do nearly as good as you two this morning. Maybe we’ll improve, but what about you and Casey?” Dan asked Master Waddie.

“He ain’t asked me yet, Brother, but I’m a’ hoping he might. I think we’d make a damn good team,” Master Waddie said.

All the men agreed including Titus. “Well, Cowboy?” Dan Yates asked me like was I going to ask Master Waddie or not?

“Some things in life jes’ can’t be rushed, Mr. Yates. My daddy done taught me there’s a time and place for everything. I certainly plan to ask Master Claymore to be my partner, but I wanna’ wait until I can ask him man to man, you know, proper-like, sir,” I replied respectfully.

“Humm, okay, I think I can understand that. Damn, Son, you make it sound like a marriage proposal,” Dan Yates said and laughed at me; however, he knew exactly what I was talking about. He left it alone since he already heard Master Claymore say he would like to be my partner, and I was going to ask him. That’s all he needed to know. We rodeoed until the early evening. Rocky’s tongue was hanging out. I decided I worked him enough for the day. He was mighty glad to get me off his back. A wipe down, and some good chow helped improve his spirits. I thanked him for being such a good partner, and I appreciated his efforts. He never let me down. He looked at me like he understood and put his head down for me to love him. He knew how to suck me dry. Master Claymore came over to Rocky’s stall after he finished with his pony.

“You did damn good today, Son. I was downright proud ‘a my boy,” he said sincerely.

Damn, that smooth talk’n devil, he certainly knew how to say the right thing at the right time. Jes’ calling me ‘his boy’ was an instant hard-on and he knew it, too. He grinned. “I always knew you were good with a rope, sir. You beat me and my daddy lots ‘a times. We ain’t come up against you recently though. You didn’t disappoint me, Master Waddie. You kept up with me toss for toss and there ain’t another man I know of, cept’n my daddy, what can do that,” I complimented the big cowboy.

“You feel like having a mature biker bunk it in with you again this evening, Son?” he asked softly.

“You knew the answer to that question 'afore you asked it, Master. I need me some more ‘a yore’ prime, grade A, aged, cowboy beef, Master Claymore. I need to learn me some more manners, too, and I know you’re just the man what can teach ‘em to me, sir.”

“Be proud to, Son. You want more leather or you want a cowboy?” he asked.

“More leather, please, Master Waddie. After yore’ performance in the arena today, sir, I got me a deep seated need to pay some powerful homage to them big boots of yorn. Makes me old mouth water just a' think'n on it," I said using my best cowboy lingo.

“You got it, Boy. You planning on soak’n in the spa with the rest of ‘em tonight, Son?” he asked.

“I’d much rather spend the time lying in your arms, Master Waddie,” I said firmly.

“Damn, Boy, you know how to turn me on. I’ll be at chore’ coach an hour after we break up from dinner,” he promised.

“I’ll be a’ wait’n, clean, and a’ wear’n my plug for you, sir,” I replied.

We had dinner in the big house after all the folks left. There was enough left over from the spread at lunch the women didn’t have to cook. We mostly picked and snacked, but it was just as good as it was at lunch. I didn’t eat too much. I didn’t want a lot in my gut for obvious reasons. (“What could he mean by that, Brandine?” “Shit happens, Cletus!”) For some reason all eyes were on Master Claymore and me at dinner. Everyone was making furtive glances from time to time, then they’d look at each other and smile knowingly.

“You men gonna’ join us in the spa this evening?” Dan Yates grinned wickedly as he asked me and Master Waddie. Everyone at the table knew who he was talking to. I could see Master Claymore was blushing and so was I. Everyone broke up laughing at us.

I spoke first. “I shore’ ‘nuff appreciate the offer, Mr. Yates. I really enjoyed it last night, but I’s kinda tuckered out from all the rope’n today. I think I’ll jes’ turn in early, sir,” I replied.

No one said anything, but Dan wasn’t about to let it rest there. “You, Master Waddie?” he asked Master Claymore and emphasized the word ‘Master.’ Everybody laughed again.

“I’m as tired as the kid. I gots me a big ole tired-on,” he said. Everyone laughed, “‘At boy done wore me out today. He’s a damn fine roper. He used a good word for it. I be all tuckered out, too. I’m gonna’ call it an early night,” he said.

“Well, we shore’ will miss ya’ll,” he said. Everyone was laughing at Mr. Yates teasing us. “Ya’ll want an early morning wake up call. Be happy to have Cowboy call yore’ room, Master Waddie, and you, Young Man, in your coach.”

Master Waddie came to our rescue. “No sense in Cowboy have’n to make two calls, Dan. I’m sure my young rope’n buddy here wouldn’t mine call’n me in my room, would ju,’ Son?”

“A cowboy like you? Let there be no doubt in any man's mind around this table, I'd do anything for you, Master Waddie,” I said calmly. The whole table broke up. Even Titus was laughing.

“You be careful with that big, Cowboy Master, Casey. He’s a fine man, but he's one Hell of a smooth talker,” Cowboy said laughing, “Next thing you know he’ll have you drink’n his recycled beer straight from the tap,” he warned and grinned.

“It’s awful damn nice of you to apprise me of the situation, sir. I do so appreciate it, but I’m afeared you’re jes’ a mite late with yore' warning,” I replied and laughed.

Cowboy’s mouth dropped open and Dan Yates let out a whoop you could’ve heard in Phoenix. Everyone was rolling on the floor laughing at the expression on Cowboy’s face. I nailed him to the barn door, but good, and I didn’t tell no lie, neither. I could see Master Waddie laughing next to me. He pointed his finger at Cowboy like he’d really been had. He put his big arm around me and hugged me close to him. He leaned over and bussed a kiss behind my ear. “You's some piece a’ work, Casey. Yore’ daddy couldn’t a’ made you no finer,” he said softly. He stole another kiss and then broke up laughing again.

“Is ‘zat true, Master Waddie?” Cowboy asked him skeptically.

“You heard the man. Cowboy’s don’t never lie. It's the code of the West. You should know that, Son,” Master Waddie said sternly.

Everyone was still laughing at Cowboy. “You should ‘a know’d better’n ‘nat, Cowboy,” Big Jim admonished him, “You never wanna’ ask a loaded question of a kid what’s as bright as ‘zat boy is. It’ll blow up in your face ever’ damn time. You better leave that one alone, Cowboy. After watch’n them two rope today? For my money, I’m bet’n the kid’s tell’n the God's gospel truth. Two ropers, no matter how good they are, don't just start out winning top times without practice or a closer bonding in their bed,” he said.

Everyone around the table raised their hand including Titus to signify they agreed with Big Jim.

“Are we talk’n another natural slave, here, Master Waddie?” Cowboy asked in disbelief.

“Pert-damn near. He’s a fine, well mannered, and respectful young man. A little rough around the edges, perhaps, but he's intelligent, thoughtful, quick to learn, and eager to please. He's been taught the cowboy way, and he didn't miss a single lesson. What more could you want in a partner, in or out of bed,” Master Waddie declared.

Cowboy knew when to withdraw and nothing more was said about us spending the night together. My asshole started twitching uncontrollably as I was thinking about the fucking I was going to get from my master later that evening. Somehow I just knew it was going to be a good one. I began to wonder if they had fucking marathons like they used to have dance marathons during the thirties and forties. I thought if they did, I wanted Master Waddie for my partner. I felt sure he could fill my dance card and anything else I needed filled.

I helped clean up the table and put things away. I was given a pat on my butt and sent on my way by Cowboy, but not before he grabbed me, gave me a big brotherly hug, and kissed me on my forehead. “I’s jes’ fool’n with ya’ earlier, Little Brother. Weren’t a man sitting at that table what weren’t happy as Hell to see you two together. Master Waddie ain’t shown no interest in nobody in a number of years; well, since his slave passed away six years ago. We think you may be the first he’s been with in all that time. We’re happy for you and him and grateful to you for pulling him out of his funk. No matter how your relationship develops, he’s one of the best, Casey. You can trust that big man with your heart and soul. He’s a fine, quality master. You won’t never find a better one.”

“Thanks, Cowboy. I knew you were kidding. I hope my comeback didn’t do no permanent damage or don't leave no scars,” I said and laughed.

“Ah, Hell, no! I deserved it! All I wanna’ know is, is it true?” I didn’t answer him. I just stood there and turned beet red. He started laughing his ass off. “You don’t have to say a word, Cowboy, I done got my answer. Well, all I can say is, good for you, Buckaroo. Now, go clean yore’self for yore’ master.”

“Yes, sir,” I replied.

I left and went to my coach. I was floating on a cloud. I was tired but happy and looking forward to a wonderful, relaxed evening in my master’s arms. Why was I thinking about Master Claymore as my master? ‘Because you want him to be your master for this evening or for what little time you might have together. It jes’ feels right. It’s manners, Son. You owe the big man that. He’s been s’damn good to you.’ I thought to myself. ‘Ain’t seen me no tighter bonds than these men have for each other. There's more under heaven and earth that might be dreamed of in their philosophy. As Einstein said, “Something’s working.”

End of Chapter 26 ~ Texas Longhorns
Copyright ~ © ~ 2005 ~ 2016 ~ Waddie Greywolf ~ All Rights Reserved
Mail to: Waddie Greywolf <waddiebear@yahoo.com>
WC = 12,825
03/26/2005
09/24/2016