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 man. He wasn’t
scaring me with outrageous demands, they were small things that 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 up to him.
“Now that you’ve
sucked and cleaned my cod piece would you like to taste your prize,
Son?”
“I’d love to
taste your dick, Mr. Claymore.”
“Okay,
fine. There’s a couple of simple rules you must follow to taste
my dick. You must make love to it and clean it with your tongue
like you did my cod piece this evening. You must make love to it,
clean it and suck my balls a little as well. When I’m satisfied
you’re really sincere about wanting to taste my dick, 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 this evening. Do you
understand, boy?”
“That won’t be
difficult at all, Sir. I would be honored to make love to and
clean your handsome cock, Sir.”
“Fine, Son, then
we understand each other. You may begin. Show it some love,
boy. Show me how much you'd like to taste it. Show me how
much you'd like to feel it way up inside yore’ cowboy ass. ” Damn, what’s to
fear in being given a few instructions about the way the man wants me
to make love to his dick? I had dark visions of what I might be
getting myself into. In someways, I felt more love coming from
this man whose dick I was making 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 his gentle control was extremely erotic and hot
to me. He hadn’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. I knew it 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 dick. Can you tell me how much
you’d like to taste it, Son, and ask my permission 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 dick.”
“I’d really love
to taste your dick, Mr. Claymore. I know it’s gonna’ be one of
the most wonderful things I’ve 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
dick, Sir?”
“That was just
about the nicest anyone’s ever asked me, Son. You made some
pretty fine love to my old dick, I'm convinced you'd really love to
suck on it for a while. Of course you may taste my dick.
Take it, boy,— it’s yours to enjoy.” 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 find
dick. 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 was to
show him the respect and consideration he deserves? It must have
meant something to me, my old dick got harder and harder.
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 dick the same time I tasted the flavor of his hole. 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 could have all of my wonderful dad
inside me. My fantasy sort of gave the term ‘consuming the love
object’ new dimensions.
Mr. Claymore was
building me up psychologically to the point I couldn’t have said no to
sucking his dick 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 dick before he gave me permission to take him.
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 dick 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 up your fine
look'n cowboy ass this evening?”
“Oh,— and I want
chu' to, Mr. Claymore. Have I sucked your dick enough, Sir,—
would you like more?”
“You’ve done
quite well for an untrained young man. I damn near came, but
somehow,— I got the feeling you needed me to hold you close and sleep
in your cowboy butt tonight.”
“I do, Mr.
Claymore, I need that from you, Sir. Ain’t had me no real love’n
since I left my pa.”
“Does your daddy
make love to you, Son?”
“Yes, Sir, we
shared a bed ever since my mom died when I was 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. Don’t matter to me none, I love the taste of my old man’s
come, and I always come when he shoots into my mouth anyways.”
“Has he started
fucking you, Son? Has he taught you how to please a man?”
“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 the first time.”
“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.”
“Thanks, Mr.
Claymore.”
“You’re welcome,
Son, but it’s 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'd touch 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 dick. 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 hard 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. 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 forgit that fuck’n as long as I live.
Although our lives went in different directions, we found time when I’d
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 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 thought that
way, too, until one night, after I lost my beloved brother Gip Justin
in Nam,— I was shot up laying in a hospital,— 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.”
“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, Sir? I can’t wait to feel your dick up my
ass, Sir. We could talk more while you fuck me.”
“I’d like that,
Son,— let’s go get chu’ fucked.”
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 bedspread on your bed?”
“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, but a puddle. We’d 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 good look'n
man and a fine cowboy."
“Thank you, Sir,
I think my dad’s pret-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,— right, Sir?”
“That’s right,
Son. Do you have something to ask of me?”
“Yes, Sir.
Would you think it was strange or wrong of me to ask you to fuck me
with your leathers on, Sir?”
“No, not at all,
Son, but— you must always ask?”
“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 fuck’n I can, Sir. I’d really appreciate it.”
He sat on the
bed and opened his big arms to me. I was in them in a
flash. He held me and then 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 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, Son?”
“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 lay down
with me and fuck me, even before I realized you were Mr. Claymore.”
“That’s sweet,
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.”
“Sounds good to
me, Mr. Claymore.”
We moved upon
the bed and began to make 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?”
“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.’”
“Did he teach
you to wear it?”
“Naw, Sir, my
cousin taught me, but when I found out it really turned my old man on,
I got to wearing it more and 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 so he can’t be up on his stubs for 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.”
“It’s a damn
good idea. I would’ve never thought of using a plug for that
purpose, but it makes ‘a 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.”
“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 safer,— much safer,
especially with a man what’s got a dick like yours or mine. You
come from an amazing family, young man. They’ve 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 dick 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.”
I reached over
to the night stand, got a hand towel and some lubricant.
“May I lube up
your dick for you, Sir?”
“That’s fine,
boy, go ahead and lube me up.” “How would you
like to take me, Sir,— from the front or behind.”
“I thought chu'
said you’d like to talk a little more while I fuck you?”
“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?”
“Yes, Sir, but
you have to fuck me pretty hard, Sir. Don’t worry none, I’m used
to it.”
He chuckled as I
finished lubricating his big dick. 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, so take a deep breath,
Son.”
I took a deep
breath. He popped out my plug into the towel, set it aside,
positioned the head of his big dick 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 dick all the way back into me. It took
my breath away it felt so wonderful. I knew I was going get
fucked good tonight. 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 dick 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 that 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
that, Son?”
“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 weeks. To be honest, I ain’t had sex with nobody ‘a
tall. I think you know that, too, Mr. Claymore.”
“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. Would you enjoy a good, long fuck’n tonight, Son?”
he whispered as he bussed a kiss behind my ear.
“I’d appreciate
it more than I can tell, 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 what can appreciate a fine
piece of ass. I would be honored if you take all you want, Mr.
Claymore. I’ll serve it up to you until you decide you’ve had
enough and ride me to the barn.”
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
laughed.
“I have a pair
you could wear, Mr; Claymore.” 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’d never had an experience like
this 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?”
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.”
“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 lay by your side and pleasure your big dick.
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' 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 a man’s slave, and not
jes’ any man either. He wants to be your slave, Sir. You
don’t see the way he looks at you sometimes. It’s like you were a
banquet laid out before him, and he’s a starving man.”
“You sure about
that, Son? He ain’t never said nothing. He’s had lots of
opportunities.”
“A cowboy don’t
never lie, Mr. Claymore. You’re a cowboy, you should know
that. You know all about the cowboy way.”
“I do know it,
Son. I been telling folks that for forty years or more. You
really think so?”
“I know
so. I’m surprised none of your fellow bikers can’t see it and
told ju’ before now.”
“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.”
“That’s right,
Sir, and I swear to you, what I’m telling you is the truth. Griz
confirmed it for me.” I chuckled.
“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 himself 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’ve wondered, for a number of years what it
might feel like to fuck yore’ fine look’n little 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 jes’ to check you out. I
didn’t recognize you at first either until I saw them violet eyes of
yours. 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.”
“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
a’ hoping I’ll jumpstart chore’ motor, so’s you’ll notice him and get
the honggries for some of his fine looking ass,— and he does have
a fine looking ass, Sir.”
Mr. Claymore
laughed, but I could tell he was thinking about what I said.
“Can’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.”
* * * * * * *
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’ve know’d him
for years. 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 ole 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.”
“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 into 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?”
I couldn’t
answer him because I felt a lump jump to 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, here,—
I’ll have none of that, boy,— kiss me!"
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
gonna’ 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 dick.
“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 who rode
with our family for a while. I got to know him pretty well.
He’d talk to me when he wouldn’t talk to nobody else. I could
tell he was a deeply disturbed man. 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 yours. 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 army. They were sent to Nam and he told me both his
boys was killed before he had 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 wasn’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’ve made in the past they jes’ can’t seem to
forgive themselves for. 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 Masters and slaves. I heard other men say they’d
been with him, and he had an enormous dick. I have 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.
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, and I
love him with all my heart. I guess he kinda got to ole Job,
too. He befriended my brother, 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 son of a bitch, but he kept
going back to him until he’d get so badly mistreated and leave
again. He left Job to go back with the no good bastard.
Job,— he done begged Cass to stay with him, and he promised he’d make
Cass his full time slave. I don’t know whatever happened to ole
Job, but I have 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 right proud to rope with
ya myself.’”
“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 guess you’re
right, Son. Yore’ ass is feel’n mighty damn good to me. My old
cowboy dick feels right at home up there. Let’s us cut out our
yacking for a while now, and do us some good ole, down home, deep ass
fuck’n.”
He started to
fuck me seriously again. I watched my digital clock on the night
table next to the bed. He’d been fucking 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 dick 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,
boy! I wanna’ know how it’s feel’n for my boy. If’n you
needs it harder,— let chore’ man know, Son. If yore’ man is
fuck’n you too hard, let him know. He’s gonna’ give you what chu’
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!”
“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.”
“‘At’s all I
needed to hear, Son.”
‘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 an 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. Ahhh! Ahhhh!
Ahhhhh! Oh, God,— FUCK ME, SIR! I’M COMING!
Aarrgggg!”
“Damn, Son, that
feels so good! Yore’ little ass is chow’n down on my dick like
it’s trying to bite it off. I’m taking it away from you,
boy. I’m gonna’ spill my seed deep in yore’ tight little cowboy
ass. Oh, God,— I’m there, boy! You done took me home,
Son! Gonna’ fill yore’ hot little butt up with some good, strong
cowboy/biker come! Feel it, boy? Feel it,— I’m filling
yore’ cowboy ass with my come!”
I could feel the
big man emptying what felt like six years of stored up come 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 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.”
“I ain’t never
done that before, Mr. Claymore.”
“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, Son.
If you come all over your old man you should be cleaning him up with
your tongue. It’s only respectful, Son.”
His words hit me
right between the eyes! It was a 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 three weeks ago.
He was like finding an oasis in the middle of a desert. He’s
right again, it’s time I learned some new manners, and if it pleased
this big man for me to learn ‘em 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. I started in and
thought I was gonna’ gag on my own come,— but I didn’t. My come
tasted damn good mixed with the flavor and taste of his leathers.
As a matter of fact, it became so damn sensual, 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 all 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 eat my come off your boots, Sir. I would consider it
an honor and a privilege, Sir.”
“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 laughed. “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,— he’s jes’ dying to show you his, Sir.”
“That you might
even 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 is concerned, I can only hope and pray you’re right,
Son. Time will tell. To make that man my slave would be to own a
treasure of great worth.”
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’n it came from this big man’s loving body,— it didn’t
sound quite so bad after all.’ 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.
It 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 know I
didn’t, 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’n it was to come from your body,
it 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
did. 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.”
“Damn, Son,— do
I have a natural slave on my hands here? A man who’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 chu,’ Son. That little bit certainly ain’t gonna’ hurt
chu’ none. Cowboy still does it because his first Master required
it of him, he got use to it, he developed a taste for it, and he was
telling you the truth. He’d rather drink his Master’s recycled
beer that 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 his
slaves to be 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 for you, Sir, and as much as I’ll always cherish the
memory of my time with you, I know you ain’t for me neither. Mr.
Titus is the man for you, Sir. He’ll become your slave, and I
couldn’t be happier for you both. However, until you make Mr.
Titus your slave, my coach door is always open to you, Master Claymore.”
“Do you realize
you jes’ referred to me as a Master, Son?”
“And I will from
now on out of respect for you, Sir,— if'n it's okay with you.”
“Of course, it's
okay with me! Damn, 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.”
“Thank you,
Master Claymore. Shall we go to bed, Sir?”
“Lead the way,
boy. You want me to take my leathers off or you want me to sleep
in ‘em with you?”
“Wouldn’t you be
uncomfortable, Master?”
“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.”
“Then, I'll wear
'em on top of your leather spread. Do you have something to throw
over us?”
“Yes, Sir.”
I got a big
comforter from a drawer under the bed.
He was snapping
his cod piece back on, and when I saw him standing in front of me, my
dick got hard again. He laughed and lay down on the bed.
“The damn thing
gives me away, don’t it, Master Claymore?”
“Ah,— but you
can’t know what you’ve done for this old cowboy tonight, young
man. If you look at me and get and instant erection it tells me I
still got a few miles to go.”
I threw the
comforter over both of us and he pulled me close to him. He
kissed me gently 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 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 dick in me. 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.
* * * * * * *
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 lay 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, and it was
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. What
had I been missing?
* * * * * * *
I was all ready
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 older 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 there. He
walked over to me, put his big cowboy arms around me and kissed me good
morning.
“Awwww,— ”
they all went. He slowly turned to them.
“Eat your hearts
out, gentlemen.” he 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 the finest man among
you to my bed, and had one of the most wonderful evenings of my young
life.”
“Ouuuuu,— ” they
all 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 nothing; 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 kinda 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 draped
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 had
in yore’ mouth.”
“Mean’n no
disrespect, Master Waddie,” I said quietly so only he could hear
me, “the best taste’n stuff I ever had in my mouth was yore’ come
early this morning before you left the double ‘R,’ Sir.”
He laughed and
pulled me tighter into him. I felt good with this big man.
“Think you might
like a little more, sometime?” he said 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 dick, Master, any time you need it.”
I said and he chuckled.
“I’ll keep that
in mind, youngster. 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 there 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 his 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. He was a hot
looking biker, but he was 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?”
“Either one
equally well, Sir.”
“Good man!
So do I; however, for our first run, I’ll rope header and you ride
heeler.”
“Fine,
Sir.” 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.”
“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 had the steer’s head roped and turned. All I
had to do was toss my rope, 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 rope pretty damn good,
too.” he laughed and winked at me, “Yore’ daddy done taught
chu’ right. I can tell you learn’t from a champion.”
“My daddy was
and still is a champion, Sir. What about you? You blew me
away! When my pony cleared the gate, you already 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.”
He smiled real
big at me.
“I’d like that,
Son. I’d like that a lot. 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 winked at me, and 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 that. 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?”
“He ain’t asked
me yet, brother. I’m a’ hoping he will. I think we’d make a
damn good team.”
All the men
agreed including Titus.
“Well,— ?” 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.” “Humm,— okay, I
think I can understand that. Damn, Son, you make it sound like a
marriage proposal.” Dan Yates 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’d worked him enough for the day. He was mighty glad to
get me off his back. A good wipe down, and some 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 down right proud ‘a my boy.”
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 dad, what can do
that.”
“You feel like
having a mature biker bunk it in with you again this evening, Son?”
“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?” “More leather,—
please, Master Waddie. After yore’ performance in the arena
today, Sir, I have a deep need to pay homage to them big boots of
your’n.”
“You got it,
boy. You planning on soak’n in the spa with the rest of ‘em
tonight, Son?”
“I’d much rather
spend that time laying in your arms, Master Waddie.”
“Damn, boy, you
know how to turn me on. I’ll be at chore’ coach an hour after we
break up from dinner.”
“I’ll be a’
wait’n,— clean, and a’ wear’n my plug for you, Sir.”
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 all still 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. The whole 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.”
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.” 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.”
“Well,— we
shore’ will miss ya’ll.” 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?”
“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, Son. He’s a fine man, but he's one
hell of a smooth talker.” Cowboy warned me laughing, “Next
thing you know he’ll have you drink’n his recycled beer straight from
the tap.”
“It’s awful damn
nice of you to warn me about it, Sir,— I do so appreciate it, but I’m
afeared you’re jes’ a little too late.”
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.
“Yore’ some
piece a’ work, Son. 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! You should know that, Son.”
Everyone was
still laughing at Cowboy.
“You should ‘a
know’d better’n ‘nat, Cowboy.” chastised Big Jim, “You
never wanna’ ask a kid what’s as bright as ‘zat boy is, a loaded
question. 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 truth.”
Everyone around
the table raised their hand including Titus to signify they agreed with
big Jim.
“Are we talk’n
another natural here, Master Waddie?” Cowboy asked him in
disbelief.
“Pert-damn
near! He’s a fine, well mannered, and respectful young man. He's
been taught the cowboy way, and he didn't miss a lesson.”
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 dance partner.
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 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 wasn’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 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 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 up for
yore’ Master!”
“Yes, Sir.”
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 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 may be dreamed of in their
philosophy. As Einstein said, “Something’s working.”
End of Chapter
26 ~ Texas Longhorns Copyright 2005 ~
Waddie Greywolf All rights
reserved ~ Mail to:
waddiebear@yahoo.com