Booger Red & Cowboy
Waddie Greywolf
 
Chapter 7
 
The next morning around the breakfast table, my clansmen could tell something happened between us. Dan couldn't take his eyes off me. I wasn't nervous. I was honored and flattered the handsome cowboy found me pleasing to look upon. Mrs. Russell left to go to her trailer. "Well, Dan," said Big Beryl, "what do you think of our cowboy, here?" he asked with a grin.
 
"Gentlemen," Dan replied, "he's one Hell of a buckaroo," Dan allowed. They applauded and agreed. "My son had good taste; the best. I'm honored to have Cowboy and everyone of you men visit. Stay as long as you like," Dan said.
 
"We're going to visit your son with Cowboy. We may stay this evening, but we need to get back to California. We'll be leaving tomorrow morning if you can put up with us one more evening," Beryl said.
 
"Glad to have you. You men have been good company. I'll have Mrs. Russell get out some steaks, and we'll cook over mesquite tonight. You get nothing but prime organic beef on this ranch," Dan said proudly.
 
"I'll say!" I added under my breath loud enough for everyone to hear. They roared with laughter. Big Dan Yates smiled at me with pride and blushed.
 
I rode in his pickup truck with Dan. The others decided to pile in the back and leave their bikes at the ranch. Wes rode up front with us. Dan was impressed with Wes. He liked him and invited him back anytime; open invitation. We got to the cemetery, and it wasn't what I expected. It wasn't a big place. It was a small family burial ground for the Yates family and associated families by marriage. There were only about seventy-five to a hundred graves. It was at the base of a big mountain and surrounded by a wrought iron fence. We pulled up out front. We stopped on the way and got some flowers. I gave them to Wes to carry for me. Dan led us to Buck's grave. I stopped dead in my tracks as Dan proceeded on to Buck's grave. There, on the headstone was the same damn picture which was on Ken and Rowley's. I couldn't believe it. I was gobsmacked. My clansmen were stunned to the point they couldn't speak. Dan turned and looked at us. It was as if we were all afraid to approach Buck's grave. My clansmen stood and looked in awe. This was more than coincidence. I had to know.
 
"Dad, did you get together with Ken and Rowley's folks about head stones for them?" I asked quietly.
 
"No, Son, I didn't. I ain't been in communication with either family. Why?" he asked.
 
My clansmen were shaking their heads in disbelief to see the exact same picture they saw on the other two headstones.
 
"The same picture is on Ken and Rowley's headstones, Mr. Yates," Wes told him softly.
 
"No! Really?" he asked in disbelief.
 
"Every man here will swear to it, Dan. We all saw them," Big Jim confirmed.
 
"The first two we thought were coincidence. The third picture is a little more than coincidence, Dan," Charlie added. Bull grunted his affirmation.
 
"What are the odds, three separate families, in three different parts of the country, would place the same picture of four men who loved each other, on their son's individual headstones? The chances are infinitesimally small," Master Jeb declared, "It just don't happen."
 
Suddenly, I was hit squarely between the eyes with the major epiphany of my young life. The pictures were trying to tell only one person something. One person who would care enough about each of them to visit every grave. I got the message loud and clear. I was the fourth cowboy in the picture, and they didn't leave me behind. Knowing Buck the way I did and him knowing me, he knew I would visit Ken and Rowley's graves first because his would be the hardest for me. He also wanted it to be the one that would shout the loudest to me. They loved me and were trying to tell me, “We love you, and we are with you. Live, love, and come home to us.”

At first, I thought the same as Charlie and the other men, the same picture on Ken and Rowley's headstone was a remarkable coincidence. Maybe the families got together and decided. Now, I was convinced it wasn't coincidence. They were trying to tell me love transcends the grave, we would be together again some day, but I had to go on until God called me home to be with them.
 
"Dad, did you give Buck a small Bible to carry with him in Nam?" I asked.
 
"Yes, Billy, it was his mother's," Dan replied.
 
"During boot camp and every night in Nam he would read it before going to bed. He went through it four or five times. Many nights he would read me his favorite passages. When we were in-country, his was the only Bible and on Sundays, Buck would read to Rowley, Ken and me outside our tent. It came to be something the four of us looked forward to. It seemed to bond us closer with each other. A few of the other men came and asked if they could join us to listen to Buck read. He would read to us for an hour each Sunday. At first it was only a handful of men who would gather outside out tent until toward the last there was only a handful who didn't come to hear Buck read. Sometimes we were in the field with several other platoons and word got around. Several Sunday mornings there was over a hundred and fifty men gathered outside our tent to listen.
 
"Buck never claimed to be a preacher, he never commented on what he read, but when he read, his voice would change. His reading had an encouraging yet calming effect on everyone who listened. Sometimes, I would look out and see several men openly weeping as Buck read. When he finished, every man there would come by, quietly thank him, shake his hand, or give him a hug for reading to them. Everyone in Nam knew and loved 'the Bible reading cowboy.' No man allowed another to say anything bad about Buck or his cowboy brothers. The men in four platoons loved and respected your son. It profoundly shook the four of us to our cores and impressed on each the necessity and strength in the love we had for each other.
 
"Beyond it was the unity of our bonding love through an unspoken belief in a higher power. We didn't need a name for it, we just knew it was true for us; so did every man in our platoon and many more in several other platoons. Everyone was convinced, Buck was being watched over by a higher power. Some would come to him and ask him to put his hand on them and bless them; men of every faith and color. Buck didn't want to at first. We had long discussions with Ken and Rowley. We encouraged him and after much soul searching and prayer, he decided he'd try. He put his hand on whoever wanted to be blessed and he prayed, 'Holy Father, surround this man with your angels and keep him from harm's way. If he should fall, send your bright angels to safely carry him home. We ask in the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.'
 
"Buck never refused to bless anyone. He changed lives, Dad. He changed mine, Ken, and Rowley's. He touched the lives of many others. Together, Ken and Rowley found faith and discovered a deeper meaning in their love. While I was in the hospital in Nam, scores of men came to me in tears to express their personal grief over Buck getting killed. They knew Buck and I were buddies, and most sensed our love for each other. We didn't try to hide it, but then, we didn't flaunt it either. In the insanity of Nam, our love was not considered outside the norm. Many other men bonded and shared love with each other. No one said a word. All we had was each other. They were young and figured to share love with another man was better than never having loved at all, and they were right.
 
"That's one of the main reasons the men who come back can't talk about it. Many bonded and shared a deep love with another man, maybe not even physically realized, but there was no denying it was an intimate love. They watched the person, the man they loved, their buddy, be blown apart less that ten feet in front of them by a land mine. He was there one minute, and the next, he was body parts all over the place. I was so angry at God for taking Buck away from me but after I thought about it for a while, I began to wonder. Is it possible God loved Buck so much he wanted Buck to be with him?

“Buck's favorite passage from the bible he read to me many times to describe how he felt about him and me was from the 'Song of Songs' attributed to King Solomon, and I can still hear his voice as he read, "Set me as a seal upon your heart as a seal upon your arm; for love is stronger than death. There are no waters to quench my love for you, neither can a flood drown it. So you see, Dad, that's their message to me and you, 'See, we were right all along. Love is stronger than death. Nothing can destroy love. Our love for you is not dead. It's still, very much alive.'"
 
I knelt by Buck's grave and placed the flowers around. Suddenly, Dan was by my side sobbing his heart out. I started weeping, too, and so did every man there. At that moment I understood I had to be strong for Dan. The big man beside me was hurting far worse than I was at this point and needed my love and comfort. The epiphany of my words rocked the foundations of his belief systems and left him grasping for understanding. I took him in my arms and rocked back and forth with him letting him get it all out. I suspected he didn't break down like that even at the funeral. He never really let go.

Like so many people who think they can postpone grieving, he hadn't released the flood waters of his own personal grief. Somehow, he managed to sublimate it until that moment. Dan wailed in gut wrenching, heart breaking, physical pain. Every man there felt it, knew it, understood it, and one by one, moved to his side to gently place a hand upon him. He felt their sympathy, empathy, strength, and compassion flow through his body and knew each of them weathered their own deep oceans of pain.  Dan Yates became transformed, reborn to the love of his fellow man. He needed a connection between God and man. He found it in that simple gesture from these big hearted men. It wasn't complicated, it couldn't be put into words but he knew, he understood, it was okay to let his son go.

In those few moments, Dan Yates gave his beloved son, Buck, to the loving hearts of his fallen comrades and to God. I promised him the pictures were not an accident but a message to him and me their love did not desert us. They were still with us when we needed them. At that very moment a chilling wind came upon us and lingered around us. It was so cold you could see your breath freeze. Then it suddenly went away and returned to the middle of a hot Tucson day. Even my life-hardened clansmen were shaken to their core.
 
I drove back to the Ranch. Dan was all right but asked me to drive. My rediscovered inner strength needed to be needed at that moment, and I was glad he asked.  The further away we got from the cemetery the better and stronger he became. By the time we got to the ranch he was in better spirits. It was as if the weight of the world was lifted from his shoulders. He was a changed man. My clansmen discussed leaving that evening to give Dan his privacy. Dan apologized and insisted they stay, and they changed their minds.
 
That afternoon at the cemetery was exactly what Dan and I needed. To visit Buck together and get the message. Dan was a different man. So was I. (Which did not go unnoticed by my clansmen who were overjoyed for us.) We both walked a little taller, and I knew Buck would want me to pleasure his dad anyway that would make him happy. I knew I had to stay a while with Dan. Buck would have wanted it. Besides, I had to go back alone to tell my love how much he meant to me. He knew already, but I had to hear myself say the words; I had to tell him for me.
 
We had a wonderful evening. My clansmen couldn't believe the change in us. Dan couldn't do enough for them. He thanked each one individually and invited them back to the ranch, separately or together. He was so impressed by their simple act of love in his moment of sorrow and pain. I thought they were a pretty special lot myself and was proud I was to become a member of their family. That evening, they decided to wave the three months probationary period and voted me into the clan. I was proud to become a member of their family. However, I still had to pass initiation. I promised to work harder. Master Beryl smiled and nodded.
 
Wes and I helped Mrs. Russell clean the dishes and pick up after dinner. She was a delightful woman and grateful for the extra help. She could leave a little early to be with her son. He was finishing high school and she was worried he might be sent to Nam. Wes and I told her to hide him, send him to Canada, do whatever she had to do but not to let him go. We impressed upon her there was no purpose in the war other than to fatten the coffers of the military industrial complex and was it really worth the price of her son's life to keep their pockets full? Wes and I felt good about that. If we could save only one kid then Wes and I considered ourselves blessed.
 
That night I had a private rodeo with Dan. I taught him about cowboy lovin.' I cleaned myself well and pulled him into the shower to pamper him again. I teased him as I carefully and sensually bathed every inch of his body. I told him as my Uncle Bud and dad explained to me, I was not a substitute for a woman. We were two men having man-sex. I was to be treated like a man and that wasn't necessarily gentle. Man-sex could be pretty rough sometime, but he was to enjoy himself. Dan didn't need training wheels. Once he mounted me, I didn't have to give him riding lessons. He said it was the best damn feeling of his life. Once again it didn't take him anytime to shoot.
 
Ah, but the second time I made him work for it until I was ready to climb the hill with him. When I shot just before him, he felt my ass try to bite his cock off and yelled at the top of his voice in pleasure as he unloaded into me. It didn't go unnoticed by the rest of the household. There were knowing smiles around the breakfast table the next morning. My family kept winking and smiling real big at Dan and me. They couldn't wait for Mrs. Russell to leave. Finally I told her to go, Wes and I would clean up. She thanked us and went back to her trailer. After Mrs. Russell left Big Jim laughed and spoke. "You men have a little midnight rodeo last night and didn't invite us to watch?" he asked.
 
"Hope we didn't disturb you, Gentlemen," Dan replied blushing. They roared with laughter.
 
"Oh, Hell, no," said Bull, "Glad to hear someone was having a rodeo. From the sounds of it, I'd say you men took the bull by the horns," he said and grinned real big. They were having fun with us.
 
"All I can say is I'm gonna' have to give up my bareback bronc ridin' buckle to Mr. Yates after the ride he gave me last night. Woah, dogies, I'm gonna' have to sit in the spa half the day to get my ass to snap back," I moaned. They laughed again as Dan blushed.
 
"You can't win the rodeo, Son, unless you got the best stock to ride, and I had the very best last night," Dan complimented me. The men laughed even harder and agreed with him as I blushed. Dan Yates and I bonded and my family approved.
 
My clansmen, my new family left that morning for California. I'd never been to California, but promised I would visit. I got everyone's address and phone number. I only asked one thing of them, they would forget where I was for a while. I knew I had to find Booger, but I wasn’t quite ready. They seemed to understand. I needed to stay with Dan for a while. They understood that, too, and thought it was a good idea. I would be in touch, but they were welcome to call to check on me anytime. I said my goodbyes to Wes in private. "I'm gonna' miss your strength, Wes. You've been right there for me during some pretty rough times these last couple of weeks. I love you for that, my Brother," I said.
 
"We'll miss each other's strength, Cowboy. What I know and love about you is your inner reserve of strength you draw on when others are in pain and need someone to lean on. I've never seen you refuse to give comfort to anyone who was hurting. We never realize how strong we can be until we reach out to someone else. I've watched you grow stronger as you helped me, Stan White, the White family, Little Sister, Mr. Twissleman, the Twissleman family, your dad, your aunt, Uncle Joe, Lester, Beryl, Sam, Big Jim and Master Jeb, even Bull and Charlie, and now, Buck's dad. You taught me a great lesson, Billy. When I'm feeling the worst, try to help someone else," Wes said.
 
"I love you, Wes. I'll always be your cowboy, and I know you're gonna' find the best master," I said.
 
"I hope you find what you're looking for, Cowboy, and God knows, I love you without measure. There will always be a place in my heart for you," he replied.  
 
We hugged, kissed goodbye and I told him, "On down the road, Darlin'."
 
"On down the road, Cowboy," he replied.
 
I had tears in my eyes as they rode away. Part of me wanted to go with them. The freedom of the road was in my veins. I waved as Dan put his big arm around me. I was happy to be with him. I knew this was my place for the moment. We settled into a routine life at Dan's ranch. I never felt more comfortable anywhere in my life than I did living with Dan. I worked around the ranch to pay my way. He didn't ask me. I wanted to help as a way of bonding with him more closely. I bought some more western clothes knowing I probably would leave them at Dan's ranch if I left, but they would always be there for me when I returned. I bought two nice pair of boots. One for working and a pair of nice dress boots. I bought several pair of Wranglers, a big, black felt hat I liked, and a nice straw hat. I also bought several western shirts for work and nicer ones for dress wear. Dan was still planning on going to Glen Rose for a visit the last week in August, and we were going to drive his truck back. I hadn't told him, but I thought about going on to California to stay with Master Jeb and Big Jim for a while; maybe, give Wes some encouragement on his journey to become a slave.
 
Dan and I began to rope together. Somehow I knew we would be a difficult team to beat. We just had it. Whatever 'it' was, we had it. We connected. We couldn't miss we were so damn good. I don't know if laying off for those years made me mature in my roping or what. Could it be the common bond of love Dan and I shared which made us so good together? It sure seemed to work for Uncle Bud and me. Could it be Dan was in love with me, and I was falling in love with him? That one wasn't hard to answer; although, Dan Yates would not be hard to fall in love with. He had ever quality I could imagine and admired in a Western man.
 
We went to our first rodeo in a small New Mexico town and took first place. Next was the rodeo in Tucson. We easily took first place in Dan's home town and the pro rodeo news did a story on the son of the first place roping team and the father of the second place team, teamed up, and were winning everything we entered. It told the touching story of Uncle Bud dying of a heart attack the night before I was shot along side Dan Yates' son, Buck, in Vietnam. The two decided to team up and are damn good together. The next rodeo, we drove to Prescott for the fourth of July. We took first place there as well. We were on a roll. Dan was excited. It was all he could talk about. My heart knew, but it neither wanted to realize nor admit what I was being caught up in. I didn't know if I wanted to go down that road again so soon.
 
I knew I was falling in love with Dan. Not because he was so much like Buck but because he was Dan Yates. He was a genuinely wonderful, loving man. We became a good team in bed and out. He was quickly perfecting his sexual techniques and learning every little way to turn me own. He delighted in it. Dan didn't have sex with anyone for so long, male or female, it seemed like he was making up for lost time. He was becoming a sexual athlete.

Dan confided in me he never shared sex with anyone since his wife died twenty years ago. He didn't have time. Raising a kid by yourself consumes your life. I taught him I expected him to take what he needed and in turn I got what I needed. He learned fast. In those three months, I experienced some of the best sex with the big cowboy I ever shared with anyone, including his son.

Dan was unwittingly becoming my master, and I was becoming his cowboy. We fit each other like an old, worn, comfortable pair of boots. We were content, but something was missing. I didn't know what. Every Sunday afternoon, if we weren't rodeoing, I went by myself to visit Buck. I took him flowers, sat there, and talked to him by the hour. I stayed so long one afternoon Dan came in the truck to see about me. He sat with me for a while.
 
"You come out here and talk to Buck?" he asked.
 
"Yes, Dad, I talk to him sometimes for two or three hours. I know he probably wishes I'd shut up, go the Hell away, and leave him be," I said and laughed.
 
"Somehow I doubt that, Son. I'm sure he's thrilled you loved him that much," Dan said.
 
"I just feel close to him here, and I feel like he can hear me. I pour my heart out to him. He always was my best listener. He could make my darkest days brighter with his smile," I said.
 
"I have some idea what you've been talking to him about," Dad said.
 
"You do?" I asked.
 
"Yeah, I do. I know you gotta' move on, Cowboy. I know you got some unresolved issues. Breaks my heart to say it, and it hurts even worse to tell you it's okay, I understand; however, on a more practical basis, I know I can never have you completely until you take care of some obligations you made before Nam," he said.
 
"It's not 'cause I don't love you, Dad. I could stay with you forever if love were the only thing what mattered. I won't be coy with you, Dan. I've fallen in love with you. Them's the hard facts, and you shore' as Hell ain't very good at hiding your feelings for me; especially, when we's making love. I've been telling Buck how much I love you, and how hard it will be to say goodbye," I said.
 
"Wrong word, Cowboy! I won't never let you say goodbye to me. 'On down the road,' maybe, but I need some hope I'll love you again some day. If you must go, I'll understand, but I won't understand if you tell me goodbye," Dan said quietly.
 
"I promise, Dad, I'll never tell you goodbye. I don't know if I could. I can't tell your son goodbye," I said and sighed deeply. I started crying. "I've come out here time after time to tell him goodbye, and I can't do it. The most I can get out is what you said: on down the road. I can't go on thinking I won't ever, somewhere, some time, love him again."
 
"Have I become a substitute for Buck, Billy?" Dan asked.
 
"Have I become a substitute for Buck to you, sir? I think we have every right to ask that question of each other, but I also think we both know the answer. I trust you know me better'n 'nat by now. I love some of the same qualities Buck got from you and probably some you learned from him, but it's Dan Yates, Buck's dad, the man I love, here an now, not his son. I'm still clinging to a love what's gone. I can't seem to let go of Buck, and sometimes I obsess about him and the pain of trying to go on living without him overwhelms me.

“Meanwhile, life ain't stopped around me. It's still chugging along, and the train is still on the tracks. It's like I'm watching it all go by, but I'm missing it. I can't fully give myself to anyone until I'm able to let go of Buck, even though I know Buck would want you and me to be together. I think the scariest thought I've had since I been here at the ranch is I ain't real sure I can give him up.

“There's someone in my past I have to find and seek resolution if I can. I can't know what will happen, how it will turn out, but it ain't fair to you for me to continue here until I do. Until I'm ready to meet the train at the station, buy a ticket to ride, and get on board, I'll have to muddle through the best way I can. Right now, I just want to run. Runaway from everything," I said and cried some more.
 
"Is Booger Red the unresolved love in your past? The big bald man with the red beard we saw kiss you at the finals? I've heard your friends speak of him, and Buck told you, you must return for him as well. He has need of you?" Dan asked.
 
"Yes, Dad, he and I had a brief thing for a while before I went to Nam, and we fell in love. He's still looking for me, but I ain't wanted to see him for exactly the same reason I'm telling you these things. I couldn't see myself loving him, or anyone for that matter, when I can't give up Buck. I owe the man an explanation. Master Walker told me he's hurting, and I don't want to be the cause of any man's suffering. God knows, I been through enough to know what it is and how it hurts," I said.
 
"Then do you see a chance you'll come back to me, Billy?" Dan asked.
 
"I suppose it's a matter of time. If you remember, you's one of the people I was told I must come back for. How little or how much I'm suppose to contribute to your life, I can't know. I won't tell you goodbye, Dad, I can't. Same's I can't tell Buck goodbye. Does that answer your question?" I asked.
 
"Yes, Son, it does. I'm grateful for the time we had together. You helped me a lot. You taught me things about my own son, wonderful things, I never knew. He was much more than I every realized. You caused me to love him in a new way, I'm ashamed to say, what's stronger and more understanding than when he was alive. I've been happy and content having you here, sharing love, drinking deeply from you. I been praying it would go on forever. Now, I know it can't, so I'll let you go with a full heart and God speed. My door will always be open for you. What kind of a dad would I be if I offered you less? I know in my heart I'll love you again. You gave me the strength and understanding the first day at this cemetery to let go. I also understand letting go don't mean abandoning hope; especially, hope for the future."
 
I hugged Dan, and he held me in his arms for sometime. He knew I was confused and hurting. I knew he was hurting trying to accept and understand what I had to do. I thought Dan was a kind hearted, understanding, straight man. I thought my role with Dan would be one of support to help him with his loss. I didn't come to Tucson expecting to fall in love with Dan Yates. I wasn't able to ask myself if I could or wanted to spend the rest of my life with Dan; although, I will admit, the prospect was certainly one I was more than willing to consider.

I went to Tucson to say goodbye to Buck and found I couldn't. Why should that be such a big surprise? I couldn't say goodbye to Ken White or Rowley Twissleman. What made me think I could say goodbye to the man I cherished above all others; the cowboy who set a seal upon my heart? God allowed Buck to reveal to me the truth in the scripture he read to me to describe our relationship: Love is stronger than death and mankind will one day sing, 'Oh death, where is thy sting? Oh, grave, thy victory?'
 
* * * * * * *
Dan Yates was a man, with whom any man could easily spend a lifetime. He was kind, thoughtful, generous, compassionate, intelligent, funny and was becoming one Hell of a good master. We returned from the cemetery and made the most intense love for hours. We were exhausted when we finished, emotionally and physically. Once again I slept in his big cowboy arms and felt loved and needed. I didn't know why I had to go but I did. Sometimes we don't know what calls us to do something. We may be warm, sheltered, loved, nourished, and needed, yet something calls to us to leave and find that which we can't define.

It was not totally the case with me. I knew I could be comfortable with Dan the rest of my life, but there was something I needed to resolve with Booger Red. Was he better sex you may ask? No, not particularly. Booger was damn good, but Dan was no slouch when it came to a roll in the hay. Certainly, Dan was a better looking man than old Booger, but with Booger, who the Hell cared? Red's beauty was the animal that dwelt within him, and the monster penis that belonged to the beast. None of those comparisons meant anything when I was with Red. Like Texas, Booger Red was a whole 'nother country unto himself. It becomes vain to compare people we love. We love people for different reasons. It doesn't mean one is preferable to another; it means they are attractive because of their unique qualities.
 
It wasn't going to be easy to leave a man I came to care about as much as Dan. It occurred to me Dan represented a composite of all the important men in my life to that point. He was young when Buck was born; only eighteen. In some ways, he and Buck grew up together. It was easier for Dan to communicate with me than the other men in my life except Buck, but there was also a strong element of Buck in his dad. Almost the same simplistic mysticism with which Buck approached life and his strong, unwavering faith were fully recognizable within his dad. It was more developed in Buck, but the basic tenets were in place within Dan. Compared to the other men in my life, Dan was a youngster. We had more in common but a large enough difference in age not to produce competition.

I accepted Dan as my master before I ever discussed the concept with him. There were certainly elements of my two dads and some of the finer qualities of Booger within Dan, but there remained a nagging voice inside me what kept growing stronger every day. The tighter I held onto Buck the stronger the voice became. It was like a dormant, sacred commandment that was tattooed on my soul during a dreamless sleep. Sometimes I could make it out, but other times, it seemed vague and meaningless with the subdivision of time, horror, pain, grief, and flashbacks.
 
Somewhere, within my metaphorical gut, which lies directly beneath every man's soul, I knew intuitively it was because the dormant, hibernating beast I allowed to choose me for his slave was awaking to claim his property. My conscience could only keep Booger at bay a short time longer, but it was becoming important, I didn't know why, for me to find him rather than him find me. It was increasingly uncomfortable for my psyche to continue dodging Booger because in my heart I still cared about him, but it was becoming difficult to suppress his initial imprinting, I must submit to my owner, be acknowledged as his property, and become a slave to his beast. The pull of his animal-like power was like a loadstone to my soul.
 
I finally decided to leave for California. I spent the rest of the week with Dan. We canceled the trip to Glen Rose. I called Master Walker to tell him we were going to postpone the trip to Glen Rose, and I was going to join my clan family in California. He heard about my induction into the family and congratulated me. I was, now, his clan brother. He and Xander were clan members for a number of years. They were happy for me but concerned because they heard despair in my voice at leaving Buck's dad. "Do you love him, Cowboy, or is it Buck's memory you love though him?" Master Walker rightfully asked.
 
"I love him, Master Walker, with all my heart. I love him, but I can't let go of his son who lies in a grave. What am I to do? He can't fully have me nor can anyone until I let go. I have to find Booger to tell him what I'm going through. I don't want him hurting anymore either. Maybe he's forgotten about me by now."
 
"Trust me, Son, Booger ain't forgot about you. He's searching all over the Southwest for you. He heard you was in a rodeo in Prescott and tried to find you to no avail. Be prepared, when he does find you, he ain't gonna' let go easily. That old man's got it bad for you, Billy. You may find yourself in a forced situation. I'll hear from him this week. Any message I can give him?"
 
"No, sir, I'll find him. I'm going to be at Master Jeb and Jim's in Los Angeles next week. I don't know how long I'll be there, but it don't matter none. I need to be on the road right now. That's the only place I feel at peace anymore. Maybe I can figure something out. I've come a long way, but I'm still not there yet. My thanks to you and Xander for believing in me and loving me. Please tell Leon I love him."
 
"Well, we love you, too, and we'll certainly tell Leon for you. He's been a little down since you left, but he's coming around. He wants you to be happy. We do, too, Son. You certainly deserve to be happy. Take care of yourself, but don't stay on the road too long. It can become the only place your heart is at rest. Don't let that happen to you. You have too much to give another heart. Don't run for the rest of your life, Billy. Just remember, you always have a home here to run to," Walker said.
 
I left my western clothes with Dan. I was going to take off the following Monday morning. We spent the weekend close to the house and drank in as much of each other as we could. Mrs. Russell knew I was leaving and cried for two days. She fell in love with me because I brought joy to a man she not only worked for but she admired and cared for very much. Dan was easy to work for and wasn't demanding. She looked upon Dan as extended family rather than an employer. He helped her and her boy through some pretty bad times and asked nothing in return. She tried to talk to me one evening as I dried dishes for her. She knew what was going on. She'd been around the block. She practically raised Buck, and she knew about him. She knew about her son, Tim, but he was like so many others, afraid to tell his mother.
 
"Billy, don't go, I'm begging you. I know you love Dan, and he needs you. I ain't seen him this happy since he and Buck were rodeoing together. I thought he was gonna' lose his mind when he got the news Buck was killed. When they sent Buck home they wouldn't even let him open the casket. After the funeral he went into his bedroom and didn't come out for a month. I would take him trays, and he'd leave them outside the door. We were so worried about him. He didn't start to improve until he got your letter. He read your letter to us twenty times or more and every time would say, 'I have to be there for Billy when he comes home, Buck would want me to. Hell, who am I kidding, I have to be there for me.' He was a lot better after he traveled to Texas to be with you and your family when you came home. Your dad treated him like he was one of your family, and he needed that. He thinks the world of your dad. He calls and talks to your dad two or three times a month."
 
I pulled out Monday morning with Dan standing by my bike. "Do you want me to ride as far as the cemetery with you?" he smiled knowingly. He knew I would go directly there to tell Buck I'd see him on down the road.
 
"No, Dad, I need to tell him by myself, but you know that," I said and smiled at him.
 
"I'm sorry, Billy, I couldn't help that one. I've come to know you so well, I know you wouldn't leave without telling him goodbye."
 
"Not goodbye, Dad."
 
"Come back to me, Cowboy," he said softly looking into my eyes.
 
"On down the road, Dad, you know I love you," I replied.
 
"On down the road, Son."
 
I rode away and waved when I got to the road. I rode by the cemetery and stopped. I sat by Buck's grave for a few minutes. "You know what's in my heart. Try to be with your dad right now, Buck. I have to go, and you know why. You told me Booger needed me. I have to find him and resolve the situation. I love you so much I don't really want to go, but I have to – so on down the road, my beloved cowboy, I love you and your dad very much," I said and shed a few tears.
 
I left and headed out to Phoenix. Phoenix is about two hundred miles from Tucson and another three hundred or more miles on to Los Angeles. Within the speed limit I could make Phoenix in approximately four hours. I should be there by noon. It would be another six or seven hours to Los Angeles. I wouldn't arrive there until six or seven in the evening. I didn't want to look for a place at night in a city, with which I was unfamiliar, so I decided to stop in Indio. I found a small, ratty looking motel where I could push my bike into the room with me. No one said anything, and I got a good night's rest. The next morning I was having breakfast in a truck stop. I left the bike so I could see it from the window of the restaurant and went inside. No sooner had the waitress brought me coffee than another biker pulled up along side my bike. I nodded through the window to the rider. He was a handsome, good looking, masculine, man. He entered the restaurant and headed for my table with a broad smile on his face. "May I join you, Son?" he asked.
 
"Yes, sir, my names Billy. Billy Gunn," I replied and held out my hand.
 
"My name's Zack," he answered, shaking my hand and smiling. Zack was a hunk, and I could tell I was not too unpleasant to his eyes as well.
 
"Billy Gunn? Humm – Billy Gunn, where do I know that name from? It's familiar," he mused.
 
"Do you follow rodeo, sir?" I asked.
 
"Prescott rodeo!" he snapped his fingers and pointed at me, "You and the father of the number two roping team, Dan Yates, I believe his name was. Well, I'll be damned. You were damn good, Son," Zack complimented me.
 
"Thanks, sir," I replied.
 
"Where you headed?" Zack asked.
 
"Los Angeles, to join up with members of my family clan, sir."
 
"And your family clan would be...?"
 
"McInnis, Sir. Ever heard of 'em?"
 
"You going to Master Jeb and Jim's place on Mount Washington?" he smiled.
 
"Yes, sir, I am. Obviously you must know them."
 
"They're my brothers as you are now, Son. I'm a family member and have been for several years," he said and turned his back to show me the family shield with McInnis written across it.
 
"Ah, then you must be the young man everyone's been calling 'Cowboy,'" he said.
 
"That'd be me, Master Zack," I replied.
 
"I guess you know old Booger's been burning up some roads looking for you?" he asked.
 
"Yes, sir, that's part of why I'm going to Los Angeles. I have to see him and explain to him why I ain't been able to see him," I said.
 
"How do you know I'm a master, Son?" he asked with a grin.
 
"I can tell. Besides, you sure as Hell ain't no man's slave," I replied firmly as a compliment. He smiled at me and returned to his menu.
 
We ate breakfast together, and I really enjoyed talking with Zack. He not only was good company, but he was also easy for my eyes to look upon. He'd been to Phoneix to visit his sister and her family. Zack was returning to his home in Joshua Tree. I had no idea where that was, but he explained. "It's about a hundred miles toward Los Angeles, but you go North into the high desert just outside of Palm Springs for about twenty miles. If you're not in a hurry, come by my place and you can call Jeb and Jim from there. I'll ride in with you if you like, and show you how to get there. I need to take care of some things at home first," he said.
 
"I'd like that Master Zack. I been riding solo since Tucson, and it would be nice to ride with someone," I replied.
 
We sat in the truck stop cafe‚ having coffee for almost two hours as I explained to Master Zack what happened to me. He was an easy, wonderful, intelligent, concerned man to talk with, and I poured my heart out to him about Nam, the cowboys, my Uncle Bud and Master Johnson's Ranch. He was wiping tears away as I told him how hard it was for me to leave Buck's dad and come this way; about winning in Prescott and Booger getting wind of me in that area. I told him what Buck said before I had to get back into my body, that some man named Booger would need me.
 
"I don't know why I'm so strongly drawn to find out, but I know it's something I have to resolve, Master Zack. Master Walker told me Booger was hurting, and I don't want to be the cause of any man's pain. I been through enough to know what it's like."
 
"I'd say you have, Son. Come home with me for a while, Cowboy. I ain't gonna' lie to you, I'd love to hold you in my arms; maybe, make a little love to you. You ain't told me all this for nothing. I didn't stop here by chance and find my newest brother having breakfast. Something or someone bought us together. I don't know for what reason; maybe, it's as simple as you need me right now, or perhaps, we need each other. It could mean something altogether different, but I think we should spend a little time together.
 
"I couldn't think of a nicer way to spend the afternoon, Master Zack. I ain't on no schedule. I can always be a little late to Los Angeles if'n I can call and let them know."
 
"Come on then, Cowboy, let's hit the road," he said.
 
Master Zack bought me breakfast. That was a damn nice thing to do, but I was sure I could make it up to him. He made my dick drool. He was a hot man on or off a bike, but he looked like he was born on a motorcycle. He knew how to ride and ride well. He was not a show off and was considerate of anyone riding with him. It was nice to have a riding companion again. You can't talk or carry on a conversation with the man you're riding beside, but there's an unspoken communication which passes between you what's hard to express. The way they're riding their bikes at any given moment can communicate many things. After you've ridden with someone for a while, you can almost read their minds. You know without a doubt they will take the next off ramp for gas or break. I would put on my turn indicator half a mile before an exit. Later Big Beryl would ask me how I knew he was going to take the next off ramp. I couldn't tell him.
 
We were on the outskirts of Palm Springs in about two hours. We stopped once for gas and to stretch. We headed out again and turned North just beyond Palm Springs and in about fifteen minutes we pulled off on a sandy, dirt road that was difficult to navigate and headed for some huge boulders at the top of the hill. Master Zack lived in a large area completely surrounded by huge boulders. He opened the tall gate and we drove through. Damn, it was a private place. It was beautiful. A two story concrete block house and pool. A wonderful setting. We parked our bikes out front and went inside. Master Zack offered me a beer, but I declined. I accepted a Coke. He picked up his phone and dialed. "Jeb? This is Zack."
 
"How are you and how was your trip to Phoenix?" Master Jeb asked.
 
"Fine, fine! Had a good time, or as good a time as you can have with relatives. On the way back, I found one of our newest family members in a truck stop cafe in Indio and introduced myself; even bought him breakfast."
 
"Well, well, you must have met the Cowboy. Nice young man, huh?"
 
"Yes, he is, Master Jeb, he is that, and more," Master Zack said smiling. "He'd like to talk with you, sir. Here he is," he handed me the phone.
 
"Master Jeb?" I asked.
 
"Good to hear from you, Son. How's our newest member of Clan McInnis?" he asked.
 
"I'm fine, Master Jeb. I was on my way to visit you, Wes, Master Jim, and Master Beryl, and I ran into Master Zack. He invited me to his place and thought he might ride in with me to show me the way. I may be a little late. I know you were expecting me some time today," I said. I heard a chuckle from Master Jeb.
 
"That's fine, Son. Glad you called so we wouldn't worry. You're in good hands with Zack. Stay a little while with him if you like. He's a good man who could use a little attention from a good looking cowboy right now. Take your time, enjoy yourself. I have no doubt you'll enjoy Zack. Give us a call before you and Zack leave to make sure we'll be here. Have a good time with Zack, take care of him, Son, he's a fine man and deserves your attention."
 
"Thanks, Master Jeb, I will and we'll call before we leave."
 
"Well?" asked Master Zack.
 
"They were glad to hear from us. He told me to take my time and take good care of you," I said and laughed. "They seem to think a great deal of you, Master Zack. I think I can understand why," I said.
 
He moved to me, put his arms around me and hugged me. "Do you think you'd like to take care of me, Cowboy?" he asked quietly.
 
"Look at the wet spot in the crotch of my Wranglers. Does that tell you anything? If not, yes sir, I would enjoy serving you. Could I spend the day and tonight with you, and you ride in with me tomorrow?"
 
"Sounds like a plan to me, Cowboy. We'll fix dinner here and later soak in the spa. Now go into my bedroom and take off your clothes. I don't allow a boy to wear clothes in my house," he ordered. I didn't hesitate. When in Rome. I went into his bedroom and removed my clothes and returned to him. He looked me up and down and let forth with a low whistle, "What hath God wrought?" he asked quietly as if to himself, "You're one of the most handsome young men I've seen in a long time, Cowboy. Come here, Son." I went to him, he embraced me and held me. He held me away from him to look at my wounds.
 
"They're still healing," he said almost like a question.
 
"Yes, sir," I replied softly, embarrassed.
 
"Are you sensitive about them?" he asked.
 
"A little. I wish't they weren't there," I replied.
 
"They're not a welcome thing to your body, I know, but perhaps in time they'll give your body character which has its own appeal. You're such a fine looking young man no one will notice. Are you uncomfortable without your clothes?" he asked.
 
"No, sir, not with you, Master. It seems natural for me to be nude before you, especially if it pleases you. I've never been with a man who wanted to treat me as his boy or slave. I've had some training as a slave but nothing as thorough as Master Jeb and Jim's training. I spent several nights with Master Red before I went to Nam and he somewhat treated me as his slave, but I was so young then. I think he was so protective, good, and kind to me he made me feel more like royalty than a slave," I said.
 
"In some ways that's exactly how a master's suppose to treat his slave, Son, especially one who needs his counsel and facing what you went through. To say it was rough is kind of an understatement. If a master loves you as deeply as I think Red fell for you, they're going to be overly protective sometimes. Booger is a good man, Billy. I rode with him for years and never seen him take a shine to anyone. He ain't the shiniest penny in the jar himself, but he's honest to a fault, loyal, trustworthy, and a damn fine man any slave would be lucky to call master. If Booger Red wants to be your master, I strongly suggest you consider it. That is, if you truly want to become a slave. If you ride with Red you will be his slave. There ain't another man out there what could make you into a better slave than Booger Red," he said with conviction.
 
"I wanted my Uncle Bud to be my master. He tried, but he couldn't call me his slave. He told me when he called me 'cowboy' it meant the same thing. He was my master and I was his 'cowboy.'"
 
"I see no need to change your uncle's cognomen as long as you understand when I call you 'cowboy' it means the same to me as 'slave.' Words are words. Cowboy works for me. Some ways, I like it better. After all, you gotta' be one of the best cowboys I ever watched ride. What do you say?" Zack asked.
 
"I'd be right proud to be your cowboy, Master Zack," I replied. I knelt before him and kissed his big, biker boots. He held his hand down for me, I kissed the back, and put it to my forehead as I saw Wes do many times.
 
"Rise, Cowboy, and show your master your love for him," he ordered softly. I threw my arms around him and kissed him. He didn't hold back. He was a loving man. I could easily fall love with Master Zack. He took me on a tour of his small ranch. It was wonderful. I felt at home with Master Zack. He was such a gracious man I never felt out of place or demeaned in any way. On the contrary, while Master Zack left no doubt I was his slave for my time with him, he treated me with strength, compassion, understanding, love, and dignity. We fixed dinner together and later drank wine in the spa. After the spa, I excused myself to use his shower to clean myself. When I finished I insisted I bathe him and helped him off with his leathers and boots. He was even better looking without clothes. He was not used to someone pampering him either.
 
Master Zack invited me to his dungeon. I told him I never saw a dungeon before. I heard of Master Walker's but was never invited to see it. He laughed and told me I might be intimidated at first, but he had no intention of scaring me. I was impressed with Master Zack's dungeon. I found his dungeon fascinating and could only imagine some of the passion which took place there. It was an extension of his personality; strong, organized, disciplined, comfortable, well thought out and utilitarian. We played half the night in his dungeon and then retired to his bed. I don't think he let me go once during the night. I sucked him off once during the early morning and after we got up. As his cowboy, or slave for the evening, Master Zack never made me feel uncomfortable. That's not to say the man didn't let me know he was in control. He made it clear without saying a word.
 
His aura, his way of dealing with me, the way he carried himself, the way he touched me, left no doubt in my mind it was his right as a master to demand my respect. For my respect he provided the comfort of his complete control to use me to my fullest as he saw fit. Perhaps he was right. Maybe we were brought together for a reason. I knew he was providing me with something I desperately needed and never realized how much. I know it must sound like a dichotomy, but I never experienced such freedom as I did that night in Master Zack's dungeon.

I accepted him as my master for the evening, and he accepted me as his slave to control for his pleasure. The more control he demanded, the more I freely gave to him. The more I gave him the more free I began to feel. Likewise, the more I gave to him the more comfortable he felt in his demands. I always knew where I was with him and never had to second guess. I was his cowboy, his slave, and I was expected to do my best to please him. There was no question in either of our minds.
 
Every experience you have with another man will be different. Some are better than others, but the ones who stand out in your memory as a powerful, completely Earth shaking release, emotionally as well as physically, are few. They're the ones, from time to time, you hit the mental replay button so they don't lie on a shelf in the dust bin of your memory. Master Zack was that kind of man. He was a kind, generous, loving man but a powerful and experienced master who didn't invite you to his dungeon to intimidate or scare the b'jesus out of you. He simply but firmly took what he needed and demanded you find your greatest pleasure and joy in giving it up to him.

His control was unassuming but unquestioned; you knew it, you felt it, you could revel in it, you could almost wear it as a protective mantle. Master Zack never caused me to feel debased, belittled, put down, or inferior. As he demanded respect, he returned it in kind, but it was respect for your position in relation to him as a master. Fear was a word which neither existed within his dungeon nor would he allow it to enter the mind of any slave he chose to invite therein. He was so sexually powerful in a basic, uncomplicated way, I knew instinctively if I were to become his slave he would open wonderful emotional and sexual doors I would have no problem following him through. I found it easy to dwell in his land of control as his property, his slave. His yoke was easy, his burthen, light.
 
I knew he wanted me to stay longer, but I think he understood I really needed to get to Los Angeles. I had things in my life to resolve. I was on a journey and stopped by his oasis in the desert to drink from his well and to bring to his personal desert a much needed, willing slave for his pleasure and comfort. I didn't promise I would return. I didn't know if I could. I think he understood and accepted we were both grateful for our evening together. We were not ships passing in the night. We were two adult men who brought separate but equal passion to one of the most powerful sexual experiences of their lives that evening.

As time went by, Master Zack and I ran into each other at family events. I rode with him. I slept in his arms many nights. I shared many lengthy conversations with him and no one failed to notice the powerful respect that flowed easily between us which began that evening; a respect which has never diminished in thirty years knowing each other and is as strong today as it was then. Master Zack still lives in the same block house in Joshua Tree with his slave of twenty years. His slave is one of the most gifted, talented men I ever met. Among those gifts is a giant capacity to love and to be loved by one of the finest master's our family ever produced.
 
We left Master Zack's place early in the morning after calling Master Jeb. I told him we were going to stop for breakfast and would be there in a couple of hours. I returned the favor and bought Master Zack's breakfast. He was a special man. I was glad to have met him and served him. I looked forward to getting to know him better. The ride into Los Angeles was exciting for me. I was in large cities before; Dallas, Houston, Phoenix, but nothing to compare with the size of Los Angeles.

I was glad Master Zack led the way. I considered myself fortunate to have met him at the truck stop. I don't think I could’ve found Master Jeb's by myself. We finally arrived, and the family came out to greet us. Everyone came to say 'hello,' welcome me to Los Angeles and to have lunch with Master Jeb and Jim. Bull, Charlie, Wes, Master Beryl, and Master Sam were there. It was great seeing them again. My clansmen became family to me, and I loved everyone. I missed them.
 
Master Jeb and Jim's home was a huge, natural rock, California bungalow style house. It rambled on and on, and had many bedrooms. There certainly was enough room for me to stay for a while, but I really didn't want to stay long. I wanted to be on the road; maybe, to visit some of my rodeo friends Uncle Bud and I visited. All I knew was, for some reason, the road was calling me. Its voice was too strong to be ignored. Re-enforcing this call was a gut level anxiety to run away. I think Master Zack, Beryl, Big Jim, and Wes understood better than anyone. I just needed to get away. I wanted to see California.
 
"Ain't cha' gonna' wait'n see if old Booger comes to find you, Cowboy?" Master Jeb asked.
 
"No, sir, I'll find him. I have to find Booger and explain to him why I ain't been able to see him. I care for him a lot. No, that's not honest, Master Jeb. I still love Booger, but I think he wants me for his permanent slave, and I don't know if I can be that for him right now; maybe never. I just don't know. A lot of things have happened to me I never counted on since I was with Booger. Booger's still in love with the young man I was then. I was a child, unspoiled, trusting, wanting to give and serve. I had a lot more natural passion in me than I do today. That kid died in a burned out rice patty in Nam damn near a year ago. He didn't come home with me. I don't know if I still have the passion within me I know Red demands from a slave," I said and felt the tears welling up within me.
 
"I found out with Buck's dad, I can't be with anyone right now or at least until I let go of Buck; then, I think I'd like to be with his dad. I love Dan Yates almost as much as I did Buck. I think our love would grow over the years. I felt guilty 'cause I ain't made no effort to see Booger before now, but I couldn't. Wes will tell you I'm still recovering, but I ain't there yet. A lot my guilt has been forced on me by Booger. I'm a bit angry at him for looking for me as frenetically as friends and family describe; assuming we could pick up where we left off. He ain't got no concept of what I been through or my mental state. He don’t seem to care about those things if he insists on finding me and confronting me.
 
"What would he have done if he found me? Did he think he could force me into a situation? Not the man who came back from Nam, Master Jeb, slave or not. That ain't to say I don't respect Booger's position as a master, or I wouldn't consider becoming Red's slave, but even masters should have manners, especially in a situation as tenuous as this. I been so conflicted since I been back, he probably would've had the damned door slammed in his face, but I surely didn't want to do that to Red. He don't deserve that no matter my mental state; however, he's received messages I don't want to see him for a while but insists on trying to hunt me down. I began to think, if he's so damn insensitive he can't understand why I can't see him right away he deserves to have the door slammed in his face.
 
"Don't get me wrong, that ain't what I want. Not only have I had an uphill battle to save my sanity, I had to deal with the guilt of dodging Red and having folks gracious enough to extend their hand to help me lie to him to keep him off my back. I loved Booger once, and truth is, I still do, but no one can force love on an emotional cripple, Master Jeb. That's exactly what I was until I began to open up to Leon and you brought Wes to Glen Rose. With the unconditional love of a number of good men, I'm better, but I still got me a way to go.

“Furthermore, Red don't have no right to force a confrontation before I'm ready. I sent him message after message to back off, stop looking for me, I'd find him when I was ready, just give me time, and yet, he avidly persisted in finding me. The simplest message of all should have been, I wasn't ready to see him because I was avoiding him. I couldn't handle trying to get better and consider serving or loving a man I know would be as demanding as Booger. You men know him as well or better than I do," I put to them. They didn't want to agree but did so begrudgingly.
 
"I had to save myself first. If that's selfish, I'm sorry. If I didn't make the effort, I wouldn't be this far along. I'm coming to the point I'll soon be able to see Red again. I made no promises to him before I left for Nam. In fact, the week he stayed with me at my home in Mason while I was on leave, I told him I thought I was falling in love with Buck. I asked him not to count on me as his slave because I had no idea what would happen. As far as I'm concerned he's carrying on this search almost as an obsession, and for me, an unhealthy obsession bordering on dangerous. I gave him neither encouragement nor confirmation I had any intention of continuing our relationship. I know he's a master and assumes certain rights, but so are you Master Jeb. If you had a week’s fling with a man who subbed for you with no formal commitments, you didn't see him for two years, didn't hear from him, you heard he was back in your area, would you automatically assume he was your property and had the right to pursue him obsessively?" I asked.
 
Master Jeb shook his head 'no.' "We all saw what you were going through, Billy. We don't blame you, believe me. I understand and apologize for asking the question," he replied quietly.
 
"Master Jeb..."
 
"No, let me finish, Son. By asking that question I realize it put pressure on you and triggered the anger of the guilt from Booger’s actions. I was wrong. In Booger's defense – although I don't see a need to play Devil's advocate for Booger – he got the idea in his head his love would heal you, he was the only man who really understood what you went through, and he could help you. His searching was as much concern for you as it was his need for you. We all – everyman here, including Wes – tried to talk and reason with Booger. I think Wes was the only person to get through to him and it was, what, only about a week ago, right, Wes?" Master Jeb asked.
 
"Yes, Master Jeb, it was," Wes replied.
 
"Tell Cowboy what you told him, Son, he should hear what we've all been telling him."
 
"I told him, if you expect Cowboy to ever love you again or be with you, you'll stop putting pressure on him. He can't handle trying to get better and live with the guilt of having to dodge you. You think you can save him, but you're wrong, Master Red. I mean no disrespect, but you need to hear it from someone who's been with Billy recently and gotten to know him pretty darn well. Every man, including yourself, has to find his own way back. If he wanted your help, don't you think he would've consented to see you or sought you out himself by now?

“He needs to do this his way and your 'bull-of-the-woods' attitude you're the only one who can save him is more dangerous to him right now than helpful. You could conceivably tear down and destroy what he's worked hard for. It's taken him six months or longer to get as far as he has. I, for one, Master Red, even though I'm a slave, would never forgive you if you did that. I know Cowboy well, Master Red, as well or better than you do. He and I have shared the secret's of each other's hearts. I understand and agree with him why he can't see you yet. Believe me when I say he hasn't stopped loving you. He told me personally it would be one of his first priorities to find you when he felt strong enough. He's almost there, but you must be patient a while longer or you may lose him altogether," Wes said.
 
I went to Wes and hugged him. Wes knew my soul. "Thank you, Little Brother. You do know me better than he does right now, and I appreciate you being bold enough to tell him. You truly have the heart of a lion, Wes. I love you so much," I said. Wes held me tight.
 
"I only told him the truth, Big Bother, and something you taught me, I told him what was in my heart. You remember telling me, 'no man may be faulted for telling the truth of his heart'?" Wes asked.
 
"I do, indeed, Wes – I do, indeed," I replied.
 
I was better after telling my family how I felt, and I didn't anticipate any of them trying to encourage me to confront Booger again. I think from what I said and what Wes said to Red helped them understand why I hadn't been able to see him. I wanted to get on the road. I knew I'd run into Red somewhere and that would be the time I was ready. Not because he came and found me, but because, I went looking for him. I stayed with Master Jeb and Jim for several days. Master Zack spent the night with me but had to get back. He gave me his phone number and a small map how to get to his place if I wanted to return or needed a place to run to. I thanked him for his generosity and caring.
 
Wes entered slave training full time. We talked and spent some time together when he wasn't involved with his training. He knew I had to go and why. I was convinced he was going to be all right. I felt he was on the right track for his life. He was in good hands with Master Jeb and Jim. Everyone in the family spoke in reverent tones regarding Master Jeb's ability to train slaves and sell them to good masters. From my experience with him I'd bet the ranch he was an excellent Dungeon Master.
 
Our Clan Master Beryl, Big Jim, Bull, and Charlie were going take a run to San Diego to see some friends and invited me to ride along. It was my first chance to get out and see something of California other than the desert. I was impressed with the beauty of the California countryside once you got away from the city. We stayed with their friends for a couple nights, then we were itchy to get on the road again. This time it was decided we would outskirt Los Angeles and ride to visit other friends in the suburbs of San Francisco. It was a long ride, but it was just what I needed. I found when I was on the bike my brain left me alone. Sounds nuts, huh? I wouldn't think of things I was likely to obsess over. Since my return from Nam, my mind would get locked in a cycle of obsessing about the same damn thing, over and over again. When I was on the bike, riding with my family, the men I'd come to love and care about, pleasant thoughts would filter though. Pleasant thoughts of my dad, Dan and rodeoing together, Leon, Master Walker, Xander and Wes.
 
Bull and Charlie's friends were a nice looking older gay couple. For straight men, Bull, Charlie and Big Beryl knew a lot of gay bikers. They didn't seem to make distinctions as to gay or straight and treated everyone equally. Certainly I shared Big Beryl's bedroll many nights, all in the name of once again trying to pass initiation. If there was ever any distinction in Master Beryl's mind, I never knew. He never held back anything from me, nary an inch.

I even got the feeling the way Big Bull looked at me in the shower or in the spa he wouldn't mind jumping the fence for an evening. Can't say's I wouldn't welcome it either. Bull had a powerful, well defined, chiseled body with a big-old cock. He was one of those men you had no doubt knew what his penis was for and he knew how to use it to its best and fullest potential no matter what side of the fence he found himself.

Bull was also one of the meanest looking bikers I ever met, but underneath the rough, mean look was a considerate man. He was charming, intelligent, gullible, funny to a fault, and loyal, but he was no Boy Scout. If the situation called for it, Bull could back up his mean look. He was not to be fucked with if you enjoyed living, but I never saw Bull start anything. He would go to great lengths to avoid a confrontation, but if the other party was just an asshole and stupid enough to push him far enough, God help them; if they lived, they never challenged him a second time.
 
With his friends, buddies, and family he was kind and giving. He was one of my favorite men in the family. It didn't matter he was straight. I didn't hold it against him; after all, he couldn't help it. While there's no scientific proof of a heterosexual gene, he was probably just born that way. I loved Bull as one of my family and treated him with respect. He treated me the same way. We had an unspoken, mutual admiration, and we enjoyed each other's company. We didn't say much when we were together; we really didn't have to.

I learned from Leon, sometimes, depending on the person, some men can communicate more by sharing quiet times. Charlie was always by Bull's side. If anything, in my mind, the two of them should've been together. Everyone in the family loved the two of them, and could see the love which passed between them. Maybe it was because we were sensitive to male bonding and could easily recognize the signs. It was so obvious to most, but I don't think Bull or Charlie had a clue. How could that be? Maybe they didn't want to see. There is no man so blind as he who will not see.
 
We left San Francisco and toured the wine country. We were staying at a small resort motel on the Russian River with some friends of Big Beryl's. It was raining a lot and none of us wanted to travel in the rain. It was also colder than a well digger's butt, especially at night. Riding the bike in cold piss-type rain was like having tiny little daggers thrown at you. We stayed in small, two man cabins. The owners didn't care. It was their off season, and there were no tourist that time of year; therefore, they had little or no income from the cabins. We paid our way by helping out with a couple of major building projects they wanted to get done. With us, they certainly had the man power.
 
Master Beryl and I usually bunked it in together but somehow Bull and I got assigned a cabin and Charlie and Big Beryl got assigned another. No one said anything, and I wasn't going to either. I thought it might be nice staying with Bull for a change. Bull was a perfect gentleman; perhaps, a little too perfect. He seemed more than a little pleased we would be sharing a cabin together, but shared his feelings with only me. There were two double beds in each cabin. I took one, Bull took the other.  I told him I didn't sleep with underwear, walked around in the nude, and had a tendency to have flashbacks which made me yell in my sleep. Didn't bother Bull, he was sympathetic, and told me he handled worse.
 
Sure enough, the second night I had a bad flashback and started yelling. When I came to I was surprised to find myself in Bull's big arms being held tight, him soothing me and gently, almost lovingly kissing me about the neck and behind my ear. I didn't see it as a sexual come-on. He was trying to comfort me and anyone would've done the same. I was so touched with his unselfishness and his genuine need to comfort me I started weeping. He stayed in my bed and held me for the rest of the night with a big-old roaring hard-on, but never said a word and never pushed further.

We worked side by side the next couple of days and were pretty tired by the end of each day. It was Friday night and everyone was going to a bar in Gurneyville. (Beryl like to call it Fruiterville) I was tired and didn't want to go. I was going to read a book I started and go to bed. Bull promised he'd be quiet when he came in. I showered and as a habit cleaned myself. I got into bed and started reading. After a while I heard the sound of a single Harley engine returning to the motel. It was Bull's bike, I could tell from the engine. I heard his heavy boots on the porch, and he gently opened the door to the cabin. When he saw I was still up reading he came in and sat on the bed. I welcomed him and set my book down.
 
"Wasn't the bar fun, Bull?" I asked.
 
"Yeah, I was having a good time, but I kept thinking about you back here by yourself. I found myself thinking I'd rather be here with you. I know we don't talk much but being quite around you, well, you make me feel good, and I just wanted to be with you, Son. I hope you don't mind I came back?" he replied.
 
"God no. Glad to have your company, and well, shit, Bull, I feel good when you're around, too. I think we have kind of an unspoken admiration for each other," I said. With that he opened his arms for a hug, and I leaned forward in the bed into his waiting arms. He still had on his heavy leather jacket. It was really cold, but it soon became warm from my body against it. He held me longer than was usually socially called for, then spoke, "I need you, Cowboy, but I don't know how to ask. I feel like a damn bull in a China shop. Truth is, I'm afraid to ask. I'm afraid to jump the fucking fence. No, Hell, that ain't it, that's a damn lie. H'it ain't the goddamn fence I'm afraid of jump'n, I'm afraid of liking it too damn much. I swear to you on the name of some unknown god, my stupid cock's got a mind of its own. It's stayed hard for you and ain't stopped drooling ever since I met you in Glen Rose. That's a long time to suffer a drip'n dick, and h'it ain't because of no STD, neither. I'm about to go crazy and can't stand it no more. I wanna' get into that little butt of yorn so bad I came back here to throw myself on yore' mercy. If'n that didn't work, I considered rape'n the holy Hell out a' you and suffer'n the consequences. Please, Billy, would you take pity, show compassion, and help out a desperate old man?"
 
"Fuck no, Bull, I want the full rape!" I said as hard as I could. It took him a minute to understand what I said and then he started laughing. We both broke up.
 
"You asshole," he said laughing.  
 
Me? An asshole? I asked laughing, "I thought to myself 'Oh brother, what a line.' You got extra points for that little gem of carefully manufactured bullshit. Ain't no Texas cowboy what can beat that one," I said still laughing.
 
"Yes, but did it work?" he asked with pleading eyes.
 
"What's a buddy for if you can't throw a fuck in 'em now and then, Bull? Come on, I'll help you off with your leathers and we'll rodeo." I helped Bull off with his big boots and leathers. He quickly undressed and got into bed with me. It was cold outside, but the little wood stove in the cabin kept us warm. Bull made the sweetest, gentlest love to me and then literally fucked the living snot out of me for a good while. Bull didn't need any lessons. My conjecture about him knowing what to do with his dick proved be correct. He had it well trained and fully under his control. He knew where to insert tab 'A' into slot 'B' and didn't need training wheels for the rest. Damnation, that man fucked me righteously. I was right, he certainly knew what his dick was for and how to use it. He was a man who enjoyed lengthy fucks. He wasn't in it for the short run. He truly enjoyed the sensation of fucking and took full advantage of all my ass had to offer. Of course, I was like a cheerleader, urging him on, harder, deeper, faster, assuring him all the while, how great a fucker he was and how much pleasure he was bringing his partner.
 
He got us both off in a hard worked climax. Damn, he felt good and was a little more than smug about his success. Hell, I thought he was going to perch on the foot of the bed and crow. He was funny. He needed what we did, and it t'weren't too damn shabby for me neither. He certainly brought the sparkle back to my eyes. We lay together making love for a long while, with him still deep inside of me. We talked quietly and every now and then he'd take a long, deep stroke into my ass. It would cause me to hold him tighter, and he would let out a deep sigh. I don't think he ever considered man-sex could be so rewarding. I slept in his heavily tattooed biker arms. He was no longer shy about sleeping with me and held me close through-out the night. I didn't have another bad dream sleeping with Bull. I would wake in his big arms and feel safe. Bull was so mean looking I figured he scared the bad dreams away. I would pull his big hand up from around my waist, kiss the back of it gently, then move it back. I'd feel him buss a kiss behind my ear and hold me tighter. I'd drift back into a peaceful sleep as I felt him pull me closer. We lay together the next morning talking quietly.
 
"Thanks for the good fucking last night, Bull. No, Hell, it was a great fucking. I think we both needed it. You notice I didn't have no bad dreams." I laughed.
 
"Was pretty damn special for me, too, Cowboy. I done told you once, if I ever considered jumping the fence it would be for you, remember? I'll be honest with you, Kid, I never fucked a man before, but I can tell you this, it won't be my last time."
 
"Yes, sir, I remember you telling me, but do you want some advice?" I asked.
 
"What's 'zat, Son?" he asked in reply.
 
"The one you should jump the fence for is your buddy, Charlie. He's in love with you, Bull," I said.
 
"Naw, Charlie's straight. He'd never sub for me," he said.
 
"The Hell he wouldn't. J'ever asked him?" I asked respectfully. "Listen Bull, we seen the way you look at each other when you don't think nobody's watching. That man has love in his eyes when he looks at you," I said. Bull was silent for a few minutes thinking.
 
"You might be right, Billy. I've wanted to be closer to Charlie since we first met. He makes my dick drool even today just watching him on his bike. For several years now, I've wanted to feel my ckck up his butt so bad I have to get off by myself and whack off to keep from raping him. We're close buddies, but I'm afraid if I approached him it would ruin it."
 
"Might turn into something wonderful, too. You might grow to be even closer buddies. Charlie might even consent to become your slave. What's wrong with that if'n you both want it?"
 
"Nothing. I'd be proud to own Charlie as my slave. I never said it before but you know what –?"
 
"What, Master Bull?" I asked.
 
"I just realized – I love Charlie," he replied.
 
"Hearing yourself say it, you're more'n half-way there. By the way, did I fuck as well as the women you been with, sir?" I asked with a grin.
 
"Oh, Hell, yes. Better by a long stretch. You're much tighter and I never had to worry about you getting bored or tired. Hell, you kept urging me on for more until I thought my damn dick was gonna' fall off. Dad Beryl was right," he said.
 
"About what, Bull?" I asked.
 
"I checked to make sure you weren't wearing your spurs last night. If'n you'd been wearing them damn things, I'm convinced you'd a' killed me," he replied. We almost fell off the bed laughing.
 
"Oh, God, Bull. You and Beryl are so full of shit, but I love you both," I said.
 
"Ain't never fucked no broad what could take it as rough and hard as you done, Cowboy. I sure hope I get a re-ride some time soon. I love heavy-duty, industrial strength fuck'n," he said.
 
"How 'bout now?" I teased him.
 
"Wish't we could, but we got to get up, get breakfast and get to work. I hope we can finish that damn project this weekend and get back on the road. I'm getting cabin fever. In the meantime, what if we stay here tonight, by ourselves, and let the rest of 'em go."
 
"Ain't you afraid they'll put two and two together?" I asked.
 
"Don't care if'n they do, Cowboy. H'it ain't nobody's damn business but ours. I wanna' make love to you again tonight. I need some more of that tight little butt and yore' brand of cowboy love'n. I'm a' hoping you could use a lot more of my ole cayuse, too. If nothing else, Son, we owe it to each other," he said with a wicked grin.
 
"I won't gainsay that, Master Bull, and yes, as a matter of fact, I could use me a lot more of yore' big-old cayuse, especially when you fuck me as mean and hard as you done last night. Woah, double dogies! Thought my young ass was gonna' fall off. I's a pray'n it just might," I declared with a grin. I had Bull laughing at me. I didn't think he would stop.
 
"Now cut that out talking that a' way. Looky what chu' done to me?" Bull's dick was harder than a rock, sticking straight out. "'Sides, I done tolded ju,' I ain't no master, Kid."
 
"The Hell you ain't! You are now, Master Bull! No man fucks me that righteous and don't get my respect by calling him master. Get use to it, 'cause when you and I are sharing a bunk, you's my master."
 
"And, what are you?" Bull asked.
 
"Yore' devoted cowboy," I replied.
 
Bull roared with laughter. "You are indeed, Son. Proud to call you my cowboy, too," he said, hugged, and kissed me hard.
 
"You know what, Cowboy?" he asked.
 
"What, Master Bull?" I asked in reply.
 
"My vote is for you to end up in the arms of Dan Yates. He's one of the finest men I ever met, and he needs you more than any of us scoot-bums, including Booger Red," he said.
 
"I love him a lot, Master Bull, but I gotta' do what's right. I gotta' find old Booger and make my peace with him," I said.
 
"I know you do, Billy, but I saw you and Dan together that last morning before we left Tucson. What passed between you men was palpable. It was like I could reach out and touch it. Do me a favor and don't call me master in front of the others," he said.
 
"I'll obey, Master," I replied. He smiled at me.
 
"I could get used to you calling me master, Cowboy," Bull allowed.
 
"I'd rather hear Charlie call you master, sir," I said.
 
"You really think – ?" he stopped his question. I nodded affirmative.
 
He was surprised when I got into the shower with him, took his wash cloth away from him, and proceeded to bathe him. His old cock got rock hard from my attention and cried out for a blow job. He got it. It even strengthen his resolve we were going to spend the evening together come Hell or high water. At breakfast in the main house that morning, Beryl and Charlie kept looking at Bull and me with questioning looks. Neither of us responded. We acted like Bull came back and went to bed. I guess they bought it. Well, he did go to bed, mine. Bull seemed satisfied they were none the wiser, but we knew if we stayed behind the next night we would arouse suspicion. Bull didn't care. He was going do it anyway.
 
We worked our asses off all day almost to dinner time. They gave us some sandwiches and coffee for lunch with potato salad. By dinner we were really hungry. They grilled steaks, and they were damn good. A big, hot, juicy, thick piece of meat will warm any cowboy's heart on a cold winter's night. We had a couple of drinks and some wine with dinner. I was feeling quite mellow and excused myself. They wanted to know if I was going out with them, but I declined. I just wanted to read and go to bed. Big Beryl knew what was going on. Earlier, he got me aside and asked. I wasn't going to lie to my clan leader. I asked him to keep it from Charlie, and he agreed but not before laughing his ass off. He couldn't stop. I knew Beryl too well by that time and knew something was going on. There was something he wasn't telling me. Suddenly, it dawned on me what he was laughing about.
 
"You horny old son of a bitch! You fucked Charlie last night, didn't you, Old Man?" I asked and pointed my finger at him. I started laughing with him. He couldn't stop, but just nodded at me and made it worse. We held each other and cried we were laughing so hard. Finally we got ourselves together.
 
"You didn't hear it from me. I didn't tell you. I promised I wouldn't tell a soul," Beryl told me.
 
"'At ain't no lie. You didn't tell me, Master. All I can say is, 'Lucky Charlie,'" I said, then we started laughing again.
 
"Okay, Clan Master, you have to answer one question for me," I said and looked him in the eye.
 
"Son, he took it all and begged for more," Beryl replied. We started in again.
 
Through the laughter I managed to get out, "God save us everyone, from Master Beryl!" I exclaimed. We started in again. I never laughed so much in my life. I've said it, and I'll say it again, I loved that old man. He had a wicked twinkle in his eye, no doubt. Big Beryl agreed there was more to Bull and Charlie than they wanted to admit, but it was going to have to be their decision and be made their way. They had to find each other. After I left the table for the cabin, Beryl came to Bull's rescue.
 
"Someone should stay with the cowboy tonight. He's going through something and shouldn't be left alone. I'm worried about him," Big Beryl said in a concerned voice.
 
"No problem, I'll stay with him," volunteered Bull, "I'm tired and just wanna' get cleaned up and go to bed. We talked a little last night when I come in, but I fell asleep. He had a couple of really bad flash backs the past two nights what were hard on him. He was awfully quite today, more so than usual. I'll talk to him; try to find out what's eating him," Bull said like a concerned big brother. Everyone agreed.
 
That night Bull and I rodeoed until we heard the sounds of the other bikes returning to the motel. We just finished a marathon rodeo, cleaned up, and I was lying in his arms making a little love from time to time. I insisted he put his old cock back in me and let it soak. Damn, it never went soft. I never saw a man like Bull before. He fit the name. Bull was learning to enjoy being a master but underneath his need to experience control, was the soul of a lover. He jumped the fence in a big way. I didn't expect him to ever return, but he did, time and again. He went with the women because he just couldn't bring himself to approach his buddy, Charlie, the man he loved.
 
 
End Chapter 7 ~ Booger Red & Cowboy
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12/19/2015