We made good
time getting back. We got back around eight-thirty in the
evening. We were almost home by the time I came around from my
brief side trip. I felt good knowing my Master and Titus were
bonding. I had a warm glow about me feeling appreciated and
included by Gip and his wonderful family. They made me feel like
I really belonged.
Cindy and the
Claymore girls had a light dinner prepared and waiting for us.
They didn’t know exactly what time we’d get in so they ate
earlier. The three of us ate as we told Cindy and her daughters
about our weekend. Cindy didn’t ask about anymore visits from my
uncle. I don’t think she wanted to know. Gip confirmed
later it really spooked her to hear about such things and it made her
Even though it
was early evening, we were three tired buckaroos. We’d rodeoed
hard all weekend and the drive back was a grind. We unloaded the
ponies, put them away in the barn and fed them before we came to the
house for dinner; however, we still had to go to put our saddles and
tack away and get the horses settled in for the night. I figured
after that I was going to be ready to hit the hay. From the slow
speed the sheriff and his boys was moving I figured they were about as
tired as I was.
I bid them
goodnight and walked to my coach. Gip, little Gip and Buck
returned to the house. I walked into the double ‘R’ and threw my
stuff on the sofa. It was good to be home,— even if it was as
simple as a motorcoach,— it was still my space. It had my aura
within it. I marveled to myself I was beginning to become more
sensitive and aware of things like that than ever before. Was my
urgency and passionate need to help my uncle unlocking new things
within me? My visit to Master Waddie and Titus was pretty
undressed and showered. I thought about cleaning myself and
thought,— ‘what the hell,’— so I did and inserted my plug. I
knew, even as tired as I was, I’d toss and turn all night and not sleep
well without it. I had a feeling the next day was going to be a
lot of work.
Out of habit, I
locked the door to the double ‘R’ and crawled into bed. I hadn’t
changed the sheets from the last time the sheriff paid me a visit and
his wonderful, powerful, masculine smell was still strong. I
inhaled deeply, thought about my handsome new slave-brother paying
homage to our Master’s boots and my dick got roaring hard. I was
so tired I didn’t want to jackoff, but damn it,— I was so horny.
It was a hot
Texas night and I had all the window open on the double ‘R.’ My bedroom
is situated on the very back of the trailer with windows on either side
for ventilation. I heard someone walking outside and set up in
Casey!” I heard the voice of Gip Jr.
push or nothing, but I’s jes’ wonder’n if’n you might like a little
company this evening?”
I’ll meet chu’ at the door.”
“I thought it
was funny, how I should be so horny and little Gip just happened to be
outside the window of the double ‘R.’ I laughed to myself and
heard a wee small voice in my head.
look’n no gift horse in the mouth, cowboy.>> Giggled little bit.
rascal.>> I gently teased him.
stick around for a while?>>
but not for long. If’n we do anything, it’s gonna’ be a quickie
‘cause I’m dead tired.>>
Bubba done ripped you and new asshole,— huh, big brother?>> he
roared with laugher.
‘nuff did, little brother,— that economy size buckaroo was an awesome
fuck.>> I laughed with him.
I got to the
door, unlocked it and there stood little Gip with his hat in his
hand. He looked a little sheepish like it was his first time at a
whore house, and he didn’t quite know how to act. Again I heard
another bit of raucous laugher.
house, indeed!>> Chided little bit.<<On wheels!>> he
up, little bro,— >> I told him laughing.
“Come on in,
brother.” I urged little Gip.
nervously entered and just stood there for a minute looking at me in
the raw. I took his cowboy hat, threw it across the room to the
chair, opened my arms to him, and we embraced. I could feel him
growing strong in his Wranglers, then I felt his hand gently
reach down to grab himself a big ole handful of the ‘longhorn.’
“Holy shit!” he
exclaimed. Dad wouldn’t tell me much, he said ju’ was a pert-good
size, but I had no idea — .”
don’t let it scare ya,’ none, brother. Come on into the bedroom,
shuck your clothes off and git into bed. I’m really tired, and I
know you must be.”
“Yeah, but for
some reason I’s horny as hell. I was jus’ hope’n you was,
too, and we’uns could help each other out. Shore’ would beat
bro. Shuck them cloths off and let’s us git to it.”
cleaned up in the big house before he went to bed, and he smelled
wonderful. After a brief bit of romantic foreplay, we began to go
to it hot and heavy. We decided to suck each other off and
assumed the sixty-nine position. Naturally, little Gip discovered
for himself my plug which immediately stopped our play.
“What’n the hell
is ‘zat!” He asked
I explained to
him, but I didn’t know if we were going to continue or not. He
was wowed, tickled, and as curious as a cat on coffee. Finally,
after he felt around it quite a bit, I talked him into popping it
out and shoving it back in. He was even more taken aback by its
size, and when he popped it back in, he almost fainted; however, after
a little proselytizing, I think I finally convinced him of the
utilitarian way of seeing things, and he had to admit, as well as being
sexy as hell and a giant turn on for him, it had its practical
resumed our play and being a cowboy from his dad’s mold, he wasn’t shy
about anything. He quickly learned, fucking me with my plug while
he was sucking on me was a quick way to bring me to climax, and it had
the added value, it just might save his jaw from being partially
dislocated; only one more goodly reason for his conversion to
utilitarianism. He took full advantage of it, and we shot almost
at the same time.
Gip Jr. rolled
on his back in satisfied exhaustion.
“Can I hear an
‘amen’ for utilitarianism, brother?!” He exclaimed like a
preacher in a bully pulpit as he patted my plug one more time.
“Amen, to that,
cowboy!” I answered fervently.
We cleaned up
and lay there for a while talking before falling asleep in each others
here with us, bro. ‘Preciate ya’ letting me bunk it in with ya’
dropped in.” I laughed, “You gotta’ git back or can you stay for
“No,— I ain’t
gotta’ be back. Dad don’t care, and mom won’t ask me no
questions. She might giggle and pat me on the butt, but that’s
about it. Ruby Rose and Linda Sue know better’n to say anything;
however, if’n you’d be more comfortable, I can walk back to the house.”
silly. I’s jes’ think’n ‘bout chu,— .”
“The only thing
I kin think on what might or might not be a problem is my little
brother’s likely to come a’ knock’n at chore’ door.”
“I thought he
was a little more uptight about that sort of thing.”
“I think dad’s
kinda brung him around to being a little more loose about
things.” We laughed at his double entendre.
“Now cut that
out, cowboy. Yore’ little brother’s welcome in my coach anytime.”
“I didn’t mean
nothin’ by it. It’s jes’ I hope my little brother’s a bit more
sharing with me. He’s got the finest ass I done seen on a cowboy
‘til you came along, Case.”
yours, bubba.” I laughed at him reaching back to tease his
manhole a little.
“Now,— cut that
out or you’s gonna’ have to follow though with yore’ teasing, cowboy.”
tonight. We’re both too damn tired. Gimme’ a kiss and let’s
us ride of into the sunset, cowboy.”
Gip Jr. laughed
and gave me a good kiss,— one that lasted me through the night.
* * * * * * *
The next thing I
heard was my coffee maker going off the next morning. I got up
and got dressed and let little Gip sleep until the coffee finished
making. I took him a cup and set it on the night table beside the
bed. He rolled over and threw an arm around my waist.
Don’t tell me it’s morning all ready.” He groaned. “Com’on
back to bed, cowboy,— let’s us stay in bed all day and save the
cowboy’n for tomorrow.”
“Git chore’ lazy
ass up, pod’na’! I done brought chu’ a cup a’ coffee.
We’uns gotta’ get up to the house to help our ma.”
He struggled to
sit up, and I handed him his coffee. He took a sip and grimaced
because it was so hot.
thinks on you as one a’ her boys, Case.”
“I couldn’t love
her or your dad more, Gip,— they’s been s’damn good to me. I owe
‘em a lot. Since I lost my mom when I’s jest a kid, it
feels real good to be considered part of a family again. That’s
why you need to git chur’ ass in gear. Ma Claymore might need
some help, and I damn well plan to be there to help her.”
another pull on his coffee, and got up to put his clothes on. It
was still dark in the coach, but the dawn of a new day was just
breaking over the horizon. I could see in the dim light just how
handsome and sexy little Gip was. He had the better parts of both
his fine looking parents and made a knock out of a cowboy. Waddie
Buck, on the other hand, was a carbon copy of his dad, his granddad,
and from pictures they showed me, his great granddad.
* * * * * * *
We were laughing
and talking quietly as we got to the house. No one else was in
the kitchen as we came in. Cindy raise an eyebrow and smile at
us. She wasn’t going to ask any questions.
“I bunked it in
with my brother, last night, ma.” Little Gip went to her, gave
her a quick peck on the cheek and headed for the coffee.
Gip, I know Casey probably gets lonely out there all by himself.”
She giggled mischievously. “Where’s my kiss from my other boy?”
I smiled, gave
her a quick kiss on her cheek and took the coffee little Gip poured for
“Can we help, Ma
Claymore?” I asked.
Cindy put us to
work and soon the rest of the family came into the kitchen one by
one. The sheriff smiled to see little Gip and I up early to help
Cindy. He knew in a minute little Gip stayed the night with me,
‘cause he knew his boy wouldn’t be up this early by himself.
“Glad to see our
new boy’s a good influence on you, Son.” He whispered to little
Gip and chuckled.
“He is at that,
Dad,— a mighty fine influence.” He shot back and they shared a
* * * * * * *
They day wasn’t
as hard as I thought it was going to be; although, we worked steadily
all day until the sheriff rode out to get us. The days began to
fly by and I began to settle into a comfortable routine with the
Claymores. Little Gip was right, Waddie Buck finally made it back
to the double ‘R’ a couple of times. The Claymore men were very
respectful of my personal time and usually never came back to my coach
unless they were invited. The boys also respected their dad’s
time with me and never said anything about it. It was almost like
I was back home with Dwayne, little bit, and my dad.
boys and I made one more trip down to Bubba’s and spent the weekend
rodeoing with him, his boys and O.C. Harris. We had a great time.
I got to know Mr. Harris a lot better and invited him to stay with me
if he came to the Claymore ranch one weekend with Bubba and his
boys. He smiled knowingly at me. He knew if I’d been
bunking it in with Bubba, we probably were doing a lot more than just
“I’m sure I’d
enjoy that, Casey.” He said sincerely.
* * * * * * *
He did make it
up to the Claymore ranch with the Swanseys the last weekend before I
was due to report to the ranch that next Monday morning; however,
something unexpected happened. It just happened to be Curtis
Langtry’s weekend off from the ranch and the sheriff invited him, Brett
Morris and Curt Wallace to the ranch for the weekend. Gip called
home to let me know in case I wanted to wear my contact lenses. I
thanked him later.
It was great to
see my granddad again but, until I let him know I was his grandson I
forced myself to think on him as Mr. Curtis Langtry, foreman of the
Lazy 8 ranch. He was more than a little pleased to see me again,
I could tell; although, he tried to be as reserved and dignified as
possible. Still, the telltale signs were there. Everyone
else noticed it, too.
Brett and Curt
were all over me telling me how anxious they were for me to come work
with them. They were also very grateful to the Claymore’s for
inviting them out for the weekend. They told me he never said as
much but they knew Mr. Langtry was really looking forward to me coming
to work for him. They told me he was really impressed with
me and told the other cowboys all about me.
Texas contingent arrived a couple of hours after the sheriff brought
home the men from the Lazy 8; although, they were just in time for
supper. Gip laughed and had another choice comment.
Bubba, I don’t know how he does it! He always arrives right at
chow time.” Gip roared with laughter. “Ain’t never
know’d than man to miss a meal.” We all laughed with him.
For all his kidding with and about Bubba, Gip was always genuinely
happy to see Bubba, and his boys. He was also pleased and honored
Mr. Harris could make it up for a visit.
Mr. Harris was a
little taken back by my blue eyes, but he didn’t let on a bit.
He’d all ready greeted my granddad and the men from the Lazy 8.
He raised an eyebrow at me as he opened his arms to me. He gave
me a big bear hug and a kiss on the cheek.
“You got the
purttiest damn blue eyes I think I ever did see on a cowboy,
Son.” He chuckled. “If’n I didn’t know better,— I’d think
they was natural.” He whispered to me.
Harris. I’s afraid they might not look quite right.”
“Naw,— they be
fine, Son. ‘Sides, I see ya’ let chur’ facial hair grow back a
bit.” He chuckled again as he draped his arm around me to walk with
me, “On you, it looks good. Makes ya’ look like yore’ a
tough hombre.” We shared a laugh.
I took Mr.
Harris’s bag from him and started to lead him to my trailer. He
“I don’t mind
bunk’n it in with the other men in the barn, Son. I don’t think
you was expecting Mr. Langtry being here.”
“I don’t care
about that, if’n you don’t, Mr. Harris. If’n Mr. Langtry’s gonna’
get to know me, I ain’t a’ gonna’ hide nothing from ‘em. I invited you
to stay with me, and I ain’t back’n out of my offer jes’ ‘cause he’s
here. I’d very much like for you to bunk it in with me, Mr.
Harris. ‘Sides, what kind of cowboy would I be if’n I was to go back on
my word.” I grinned at him wickedly.
smiled and looked at me like he’d like to kiss me right there; however,
he decided the better part of good cowboy manners was discretion.
He was right. He figured he’d wait until we were alone. I
didn’t want him to have to wait too long either.
“In that case,—
” he smiled, “lead the way, Son.”
said, but it didn’t escape the notice of any of the men, I was taking
the handsome older cowboy to my coach. There was a lot of knowing
smiles, winks and grins exchanged, but nothing was said. If my
granddad wasn’t there, I have no doubt Bubba and the sheriff would’ve
been bouncing some choice comments off each other.
We arrived at
the double ‘R’ and I open the door for Mr. Harris and motioned for him
to enter. I followed with his duffle bag and set it on the
floor. The next thing I knew I was in Mr. Harris’ arms engaged in
a more than brotherly kiss. O.C. Harris wasn’t holding back
his affections. I reckoned I was pretty damn fond of him, too, so what
was the sense in either of us holding back. I returned his kiss
with equal passion.
“Damn,— I been
wont’n ta’ do that since I laid eyes on you, Casey.”
“Cain’t says I
ain’t shared them feelings, Mr. Harris.” I smiled at him.
“Blue eyes or
not,— you still look so much like yore’ uncle, it’s like I was hold’n
him in my arms again.”
Nothing more was
said as he proceeded to kiss me one more time. I could feel him
growing strong in his Wranglers and the ole ‘Longhorn’ was growing just
as fast. He reached his hand down to my crotch and felt me.
Son,— you’s jest as big as your uncle was. Bubba and Vince told
me he got it from his daddy. Ain’t never seen Mr. Langtry, but I
hear tell there’s damn few ponies what’s hung as well as him.”
After we shared
another intimate moment, I suggested we return to the house as I knew
Cindy would be waiting supper for everyone. I helped prepare it
and get everything ready. We walked back to the big house with
Mr. Harris’ arm around my shoulder. Everyone else was there when
we arrived and no one missed the wet spots at the crotch of our
Wranglers. Once again nothing was said but there were a lot of
knowing smiles. My granddad even smiled.
Talk was lively
around the table and supper was wonderful. I helped clean up the
table and wash the dishes with little Gip and Waddie Buck. We had
lots of help and were finished in no time. We left the older men
and Cindy to sit around the table and talk.
moved to the yard under the big oak trees Gip’s dad and granddad
planted many years ago. No one wanted to rodeo. It was still
pretty warm and Bubba decided to let the ponies rest from their hot
ride in the trailer. There were lots of things talked about but I
didn’t say much. I was content to sit close to Mr. Harris and listen
the rest of them talk.
something about O.C. Harris that calmed my soul. I couldn’t put
my finger on it, but I know he knew and sensed it, too. I noticed
my granddad watched us with great interest, but he tried hard not to be
obvious. I began to wonder if that part of me, the spark my uncle gave
me, was like a genetic memory. Did I genetically remember the
love and comfort the two men shared in their youth? Was this what
I was experiencing or was I just a common slut attracted to any good
looking man in a pair of decent cowboy boots?
you ain’t!>> came a laugh in my mind, <<I can’t comment on
the ‘slut’ part. Oh, to hell with it,— of course I can,— ” there
was much laugher in my mind, “I have a feel’n that’s about fifty
percent of your comfortable feelings about O.C.; the other half is
pure, unadulterated slut!>> I mentally winced at the wee small
voice of my little brother laughing with glee at his observation. He
allowed the ‘s’ in the word ‘slut’ to roll on for a while before he
tacked on the ‘lut’ part.
weren’t suppose to hear that, little bit!>> I smiled to myself
and lowered my head so no one else could see my face. <<I suppose
you’re right. I guess I am a slut,— but damn it, little bit,—
there’s just something about Mr. Harris what’s more’n just a stiff dick
reaction. I feel a connection with him,— like he’s family or
your first idea was correct, brother.>> allowed Logan in a more
serious tone, <<I think it’s very possible you’ve inherited some
of your uncle’s genetic memories; perhaps, closely akin to eidetic
memory or more aptly ‘genetic Asperger’s syndrome.’>> Logan
laughed and I figured he was making a joke; however, I had no idea what
he was talking about. I just laughed, too, trying to seem as
intelligent as possible. Then, as quickly as he tuned in,—
he was gone.
smile’n ‘bout, cowboy?” Mr. Harris put his arm around me, leaned
close, and whispered in my ear.
know’s you’d understand, Mr. Harris; howsomever, it has to do with
feelings I got about chu’ being part of my family.”
“Why don’t chu’
think I’d understand, Son? I felt like you was a part of me since
the first day I done laid eyes on you at Bubba’s. That feel’n
ain’t never left me, and you being so caring about me, makes me feel
all the more like part of you and your family. I think you’ve
become part of a much greater family than just your loved ones back in
that, Mr. Harris. I feel like the sheriff, his family, Bubba and
his boys, and now you, are all a part of my family. Of course, I
didn’t tell you about meeting the sheriff’s dad and falling in love
with him and his new mate.”
“Bubba done told
me about that. Waddie Claymore’s a good man and a fine
cowboy. He and his brother, Gip Justin, used to whip the pants
off’n me and your uncle at rope’n. Yore’ daddy and Bubba never
beat ‘em. S’far’s I know’d, no one could beat ‘em except a couple of
the Crenshaw boys from down Bandera way; and, that was only on a good
day. I can understand how you might take a shine to him.”
We turned our
attention back to the main conversation around the group. Cindy
made apologies for her and her girls to leave the men to talk on their
own. It was just something country women did. They knew the men
wouldn’t talk about certain things with them around. Cindy just wanted
to give the men their privacy to talk freely.
“You going back
to the ranch with us Sunday evening, Casey?” Brett asked.
“If’n it’s all
right with Mr. Langtry, I will. Don’t see no need in asking the
sheriff or his boys to carry me all the way out there when I kin hitch
a ride with you men.”
hope’n you would.” spoke Mr. Langtry, “We’ll be glad to have ya’
ride with us. Just bring your clothes, any personal items you
need and your saddle. We got saddles you could use, but most
cowboys like to use their own saddle.”
“Yes, Sir, I got
my old work saddle with me. I’s real comfortable with it.
Is there any place to lock up valuables, Sir?”
“Yeah, we got us
a bobtail truck what follows us around all over the ranch. It’s built
like a tank, and it can go any wheres. We got big individual
lockers in it to store clothes, bedrolls, tents, and personal
items. You lock it with your own combination lock and nobody can
get into it but you.”
I was happy with
that and figured I could take my laptop and cell phone to be in
communication with the Claymores and my brothers back home. I
didn’t need to send Master Waddie, Titus or the men at the Broken Arrow
e-mails. I had my own built in e-mail. I really didn’t need it for my
brothers either,— I just thought it might come in handy.
I all ready made
arrangements with Gip and Cindy, I was going to tell my dad I was
working for them and if he needed to get in touch with me, he could
reach me through them. They were understanding and thought it
probably was a good plan.
I called dad
during the week before my last weekend with the Claymores to tell him
about staying with them for a while. I told him I’d probably be
rodeoing on the weekends with Gip and his boys. It wasn’t a lie
because I would be working for Gip when I was there on my weekends
off and no doubt would be rodeoing with him and his boys.
Dad seemed to be pleased I’d found some good people I wanted to be
around for a while.
* * * * * * *
o’clock, Cindy brought out some iced tea, lemonade and a batch of baked
goods for the men. It was a nice treat and everyone enjoyed
having something to drink and something sweet to eat.
Conversation continued until around nine when the sheriff decided he
was going to get an early start to bed. He reckoned as how the
next day was going to be a balls out rodoeo day at the ranch, and as
much as he tried to keep it quiet, he knew there would be a large crowd
come from all over the county to watch or participate. Most of
his men at the station were rancher-cowboys and if they weren’t on
duty, they’d be there with their families, for sure. Gip was an
easy going man. He didn’t care. He enjoyed all the folks
and treated everyone like family.
Mr. Harris and I
excused ourselves and began to walk to the ‘Double R.’ We heard Bubba
call to us,
“Ya’ll have fun
now, ya’ hear?” He grinned mischievously. All the other men
smiled or chuckled quietly.
we plan to.” Shot back Mr. Harris laughing as he dropped his big
cowboy arm around my shoulder, pulled me close, and we continued on our
way. We heard more laughter but nothing more was said.
We got inside
the double ‘R,’ and I offered Mr. Harris a drink. I told him I
had a bit of Southern Comfort left over from Master Waddie’s stay with
me. He surprised me by accepting my offer, and I decided to have
a small one with him. I took a few sips of mine and was about to
excuse myself to clean up when O.C. took me into his arms and
kissed me deeply.
For a man who
lived most of his life as a straight man, the old cowboy certainly knew
how to make love to a man, and he wasn’t shy about it. He was
about to pop my cork just making love to me, and I could feel him, once
again, growing strong in his Wranglers.
I excused myself
and left the bottle on the table for him to help himself. I
quickly cleaned myself and wondered if I would scare the man to death
with my plug. Most men found it handy and turn on; so, I decided
to go with that thought and inserted it. I’d made up my mind I
was going to leave it behind when I went to work on the ranch. I
figured by the end of a full day working on the ranch, I wouldn’t need
my anal pacifier to lull me to sleep. I reckoned I’d be out like
a light in minutes after my head hit my bedroll.
I didn’t try to
hide myself from O.C. with a towel. I walked back into the living
area fully nude. I almost lost it when I saw Mr. Harris’
reaction. His mouth dropped open like he was going to speak, but
nothing came out. He couldn’t speak for a moment. He stood
up and opened his big arms for me to come to him.
I was in his
arms in a flash, and we continued where we left off. I was so turned on
by Mr. Harris, I started unbuttoning his Western shirt. That was
all the invitation he needed. I led him to my bedroom and helped
him off with his heavy buckaroo boots. After I helped him remove
his Wranglers, I had a chance to see Mr. Harris as God intended
him. For a man almost twenty years older than me, he was in
perfect physical condition and what hung between his legs was a fine
example of God’s handiwork.
O.C. was a
cowboy to the bone. It didn’t matter which one you chose, but the
one hanging between his legs spoke volumes. He wasn’t hung as
large as some men I’d been with, but what his dick lacked in size it
made up for in sheer masculine beauty and pride. His dick was similar
to my dad’s and Uncle Rance and was as handsome as the man who bore
it. O.C. was one of the few men I’d ever been with who never
seemed to lose his erection,— even after ejaculation.
Most cowboys I’d
been with had cocks close to my size or a bit smaller, and sometimes,
were an effort of make love to and suck. Not so for O.C.
Harris. He had to have one of the most suckable, tasty penis’ I
ever found tucked away in the dark recesses of a cowboy’s
Wranglers. When I caught sight of his manhood, my mouth started
to water uncontrollably. I was drawn to his dick like a man who’d
been lost in the desert on a horse with no name for several, very hot
days. Mr. Harris was like a cool oasis offering much needed
shade, refreshment and comfort.
I must have been
the same for Mr. Harris. I can’t imagine he’d been to bed with
anyone since his wife passed away many years ago. He was like a
starving man who suddenly found himself in front of a banquet. He
told me later he felt like he rejoined his youth from years ago to
touch, taste the goodness and feel the joy of being a young cowboy
making love to his friend and brother once again. He almost
brought tears to my eyes.
He had no
problem with my plug, but he did get a good chuckle out of it.
After he saw how handy it was, he was more impressed than amused.
He certainly impressed me. I wanted to suck him off and almost
did, but he was my guest; he had other ideas. He wanted a
piece of my cowboy butt in the worst way, and it was my turn to chuckle
at his sincere need.
Mr. O. C. Harris
did need a second invitation to step up into my saddle. He was
ready to come out of the shoot with all the gusto of any bull rider who
just settled himself in, waiting for the gate to open. The moment
my gate was opened for him he began to ride me like I was the meanest
bull on tour and he wasn’t about to let me throw him off. He
wasn’t rough, but he was certainly strong in his determination.
The groans and
sighs that he was giving forth with left me with no doubt this cowboy
was enjoying his ride. It was as if he stored up all of his
masculine needs to sexually express himself for just that moment in
time. As I stated earlier, O.C. wasn’t hung as well as some men
I’d been with, but in one respect he was like my dad. He
was a man who knew how to appreciate a fine piece of cowboy ass and
wasn’t about to let the opportunity for a good hot fuck to pass him
by. A man like O.C. or my dad knew how to throw a solid fuck into
a man that made him feel like they were fucking him with a damn
I tried to hold
back my on personal passion for his sake, but somehow sensed he was
also like my dad in another way. He wanted and needed my feedback
to let him know he was doing me some good.
“Oh, God, Mr.
Harris. You’re fuck’n me so damn good! Take all you need,
Sir. I’ll keep feed’n my ass up to you as long as you can ride
Casey! I imagined you’d be a fine piece of cowboy flesh to fuck,
but had no idea you’d make me feel like this. Honest to God, Son,
I ain’t felt this good fuck’n nobody since I fucked your uncle all
those years ago. He was a fine man and a better fuck. I
loved and enjoyed my wife, God rest her soul, but fuck’n a woman jes’
cain’t compare with a fine, tight piece of cowboy butt.
Ole Bubba don’t
kiss’n tell none, but I could tell from the silly grin he got on his
face when I boldly ask him how you was in bed,— he had no
complaints. Oh, and by the way, Son, you can show me any respect
you feel necessary outside this trailer, but here, in your space, call
me O.C. Any cowboy what can take a fuck’n like yore’
allow’n me has got my respect.”
Mr. Harris never
missed a stroke the whole time we were talking. It was like he didn’t
know exactly how much sack time he might have with me and he wasn’t
going to miss a stroke. As good as he felt up butt, I didn’t what
him to miss one, either.
Sir. I’d be honored to call you ‘O.C.’; however, outside of here
I’d jes’ be more comfortable calling you ‘Mr. Harris.’ I cain’t
rightly put my finger on it, but somehow, you remind me so much of my
daddy. Even, right down to the way you be fuck’n me right now,
feels like the way he fucks me. I suppose, that’s about the best
compliment I could give a cowboy, O.C., ‘cause my old man gives me the
best damn fuckings I ever done had.
Like my dad,—
you fuck me strong, hard and determined to get the maximum pleasure for
yourself, but by doing that you know my greatest pleasure is giving you
what you need to take from me. I miss my dad, but you fuck’n me
like you be doing gives my heart a little feel’n of home.”
the sweetest thing any man’s ever said to me, Casey, and ever’ thing
you’ve said makes sense. Glad chu’ feel that a’ way, ‘cause I’m
enjoying this ride too much to hurry home to the barn.”
I knew the talk
was over as O.C. settled back down into some fine, down home, cowboy
fucking; but, every now and then I mentally spurred my
rider on with a comment. I would again complement him and beg him
to fuck me harder; to ride me down hard like I was the meanest damn
bronc he’d ever been on who had a burr under its saddle blanket.
I would buck back to his hard thrust like I was trying my best to buck
him off. It didn’t take him long to get into the spirit and O.C.
began to fuck me with unbridled enthusiasm of the meanest, untamed
buckaroo on the rodeo circuit.
Next time O.C.
decided he needed another piece of cowboy butt I was going to make damn
sure he wore them big, heavy buckaroo boots of his. I wanted to
experience the whole feeling of being righteously fucked by this
seasoned cowboy. Before I left home, I got my old man to wear his
pair of store bought legs with them big, buckaroo boots of his. I
told him, if I could wear the plug for him,— he could wear his boots
for me. Surprisingly, my old man didn’t put up an argument.
He just handed me his booted legs for me to help him with; oh, yes,—
and with a big shit eat’n grin on his handsome, cowboy face.
At first I was
concerned my dad might think my request was because I wanted him
to be whole. Thankfully, my old man knew me well enough to know
his stubs were just as big a turn on for me, but his big, heavy
buckaroo boots were just to great a temptation. I aways got
fucked good either way. My daddy knew how to take care of his boy
and give him what he needs.
So it was, that
O.C. Harris was giving me exactly what I needed at that particular
moment. He was hard fucking me relentlessly, opening me up like a
damn prairie flower to his thrust; ever deeper and harder each
time. I was about to move up the wall in back of my bed to get
away from him. I was building up to climax too fast, and to my
way of thinking,— way to soon. I wanted a lot more of this
cowboy’s brand of fucking.
“If you don’t
back off for a while, cowboy, you’re gonna’ lose your good ride
pert-damn quick. Yore’ about to ride your cayuse over the cliff.”
“Cain’t help it,
Son,— I got that barn in sight and I about to ride ju’ home.
C’mon, hoss, take us home,— give it up for your cowboy and he’ll git us
“You got it,
pod’ner. Ride this old cayuse to the barn and don’t spare the
I gritted my
teeth in determination as I pushed my body back down and under my
rider, positioning my ass for his best access. No more words were
needed. O.C. took me at my word and began to fuck me with a
vengeance few men ever have. Damned if he wasn’t fucking me just
like my dad would. It was uncanny, but to say was enjoying it to
the max would be an understatement.
fuck!” He yelled. “I cain’t hold it no more, Son! I’m
gonna’ shoot my load in your cowboy butt!”
pod’ner! C’mon, cowboy! Show me what chu’ got, stud!
You done won this rodeo, now take your prize! Gimme’ all that
stored up cowboy cream you got in them fine looking balls a’
yours! I’ll catch all you can pump into to me, stud!”
Casey! I’m coming! Fuck,— oh, fuck! It feels so damn
good! I ain’t a’ gonna’ stop ride’n you, hoss, until you shoot!”
That all I
needed to hear. I felt a whole shit load of come moving up
through my body like it was coming from the depths of my soul. I
started shooting in all directions. I shot all over the head board of
my bed like a demented fast gun outlaw shooting from the hip and his
bullets were going everywhere. O.C. completely drained me before
he even slowed his assault on my ass. It was one of the hardest
climaxes of my young life. I got come all over me and over most
of my cowboy rider as well.
When O.C. was
satisfied he’d gotten my last shot out of me and my body was vibrating
from his continued, relentless hard fucking,— he began to slow his
efforts, but not completely. He knew it was an electric moment
and he intended to get the most out of it for both of us.
He eased back on his powerful strokes and easily slipped into a more
loving, gently controlled fucking. He must have been trained by
the best,— he was almost as good as my dad.
“Thank you, O.C.
for that damn good fuck’n.” I finally managed to get out.
“Woah, dogies, cowboy! I ain’t been fucked like that since I left
“I should be the
one thanking you, Casey. I couldn’t believe it when you asked me
to share your trailer if’n we came this weekend to rodeo. I had
to live with Bubba and his boys teasing for two weeks. They were
good hearted about it; I didn’t say nothing, but they could tell I was
excited and looking forward to it.”
“Glad you were,
and I’m more glad you decided to come with Bubba and his boys. I
still cain’t get over how much like my daddy you seem to be.”
because yore’ daddy and Bubba taught me how to fuck. I’ll never
forget it. Yore’ uncle was a’ pester’n me like a blowfly on
a wet donkey to fuck ‘em. I turned him down because I’d never
fucked anything or anybody. I played with myself, but my dad
caught me one time and told me if’n I kept it up I’d go blind. I
asked him if I could keep doing it until I needed glasses?”
O.C. winked at
me and we rolled on the bed in laughter, still hooked together.
He was enjoying some good, slow, down home, gentle fucking in my
ass. He continued,
“My daddy done
the same thing. He fell out laughing at me and I knew he weren’t
serious. It was jes’ something he made up to try’n keep me from
abusing myself too much. It didn’t work, but I did worry
ever’ time I had a hard time seeing the blackboard in school.”
He got me
daddy and Bubba kidded me unmercifully about turning your uncle
down. They lied to me and told me he was heart broken.
Hell, he was getting all he needed from Vince and Bubba, and I didn’t
even know about it. Since I was an only child, I was kinda
naive. I didn’t have no older brother to tell me about such
things; so, yore’ daddy and Bubba sort a’ took me under their wings, so
to speak, and became my big bros.
Vince always was
a good hearted man and sincere about most things; but, damned if yore’
daddy didn’t have a twinkle in his eye. I asked him if’n he’d
teach me about fuck’n. He asked me if I jes’ wanted him to tell
me about it or did I want him to show me HOW to fuck. I wasn’t
real sure what h e meant, but I went for the latter. Before I
knew it, I had my clothes off, my legs in the air, and I was getting
fucked by yore’ daddy. He told me the only way to show me how to
fuck was for him to fuck me and teach me as he was fuck’n me. He
was so sincere about it, I believed every word he said. I went along
with it not realizing I was being had.”
We rolled on my
bed again laughing at O.C.’s story. It had to be a true story,
because it sounded just like my dad. He went on with his story,
“As you know,
yore’ daddy is one hell of a fucker. He worked with me for a long
time until he got me opened up. He never once hurt me, but when
he really started fuck’n me,— I thought I’d died and gone to
heaven. I couldn’t help myself. It was the best damn feel’n
I’d ever experienced to that point and I wanted to tell the world about
it. Mr. Langtry and Seth were away, but I’m sure Bubba must a’
heard me carrying on all the way over to his folk’s place.”
By this time, I
had tears rolling down my cheeks I was laughing so hard at O.C.’s story.
“Next thing I
knew, I was getting another, in-depth, fuck’n lesson from ole Bubba and
even though he’s considerably bigger than your daddy, I was taking
ever’ inch of his big cowboy dick and love’n it. I couldn’t get
enough. After Bubba got though with me, Vince asked if I thought
I’d learned enough or did I need anymore lessons?”
were racked with laugher. I didn’t know O.C. had such a good
sense of humor and could laugh at himself. He was just like my
dad in that respect, too. My dad has a wonderful sense of
humor. He has to, to put up with me and my brother’s
nonsense. I urged O.C. to go on with his story.
“I told jur’
daddy, I learned a lot, but I thought I might need a few more
lessons. In the back of my mind I was a’ pray’n I didn’t never
pass their coarse in fuck’n.”
We laughed again
at his take on his fucking lessons from my dad and Bubba.
cowboys fucked me regularly until one evening they decided they’d
taught me just about as much as they could about fuck’n. They
decided it was time for me to fly solo. Vince done told me, he
weren’t gonna’ turn me loose on his little brother until he was
satisfied I could fuck him proper and decent-like. They only way
he could be sure of that was for me to fuck him and Bubba. Of
course the two of ‘em were in cahoots and were having a ball playing
with my head; however, they were good sports, and I was enjoying the
hell out of their attention and the sex.
I fucked yore’
daddy first. When I got my dick inside him and could feel him
offer’n up himself to me,— once again, I thought I’d died an gone
to heaven. To hell with jack’n off! Having your dick inside
somebody was a hell of a lot more fun and felt better, too. When
I got through there was nothing but silence. Vince shot buckets
while I was fuck’n him, and I never came so much in my life.
pod’ner,—’ Bubba drawled to Vince, ‘did that, there, tenderfoot
give you a passable fuck’n?’
deeply and just grinned from ear to ear.
passable, brother,— down right passable.’ Damed if’n them two
didn’t laugh their ass’ off at me.
wait to get his fuck’n. I didn’t know if’n I could do it.
Bubba always was bigger than us other boys, and I felt like a deer
trying to mount a water buffalo. I done all right by yore’ daddy,
but Bubba was another story.”
I didn’t know if
I could take much more of O.C.’s story, I was hurting so bad from
laughing; however, I urged him on.
“Well, I learned
me a good lesson that afternoon. Big men fuck jes’ as good as
smaller men and in a few ways, better. Bubba weren’t a man to lay
back and let you do all the work. When you fuck Bubba, you know
you got a man on the end a’ yore’ pecker; same goes for your dad or
uncle. By the end of that afternoon, they let their hair down
with me and told me what they’d done to me.
Hell, I couldn’t
be mad at ‘em. They was more’n jes’ friends. We’d shared
some pretty intimate moments, and I wouldn’t give anything for the
bonding I did with them men that summer. I loved ‘em then, and
love ‘em even more today. They became like family to me.
Bubba still is, but I shore’ as hell miss yore’ uncle and yore’ dad?”
O.C. paused for
a long moment and we shared a kiss. I thought he was never going
to stop fucking me. I wasn’t complaining. I was riding one
of the sweetest cowboy dicks in the whole of Texas.
uncle asked me again to fuck him, and it was with pride and
considerable confidence I accepted his invitation. After that
afternoon with Seth, we became almost inseparable. We were
both still fuck’n around with Vince and Bubba, but we didn’t talk much
about what we was doing with each other. Somehow,— that was
special between us. I loved yore’ uncle and I know he loved me.
When he told me
what he was gonna’ do; go off, join the Marines and all,— it almost
broke my heart. I begged him not to. I wanted him and me to
settle down together and ranch. We’d talked about it for several
years and now he was walking away; taking my dreams and my heart along
I understood how
his dad was. I understood why he couldn’t stay there no
more. I didn’t blame him none. It broke all our
hearts when Mr. Langtry done what he done to Vince. Bubba
wouldn’t speak ill of him; hell, Bubba wouldn’t speak ill of no man,
but I know in his heart, he hated Curtis Langtry for years.
I stayed behind
because I’d lost my dad in high school, and I was the only person to
help my mother run the ranch. Being their only child, I was
exempt from the draft. Then, when I heard my beloved brother was
shot and killed over there, I almost went to pieces. They brought
him home in a box and buried him down the road a ways from our place.
They never even opened the casket so’s we could say goodbye to
him. If’n it had’na been for Bubba, I wouldn’t a’ made it.
Then, to make matters worse, we heard your dad was killed, too.
After that, I
lost all interest in sex with men. I tried messing around with
Bubba a few times, but it jes’ weren’t the same. Over the years,
Bubba and I got together about twice a year. We always seem
to know when we need each other and one of us will call. Bubba
has been my rock over the years, but so has your granddad.
After we got
word your dad was killed, Curtis became a recluse. He was all
ready hated by everyone in town, but then he turned his back on
them. He wouldn’t have nothing to do with any of them. The
only person he’d let visit him was me. He never did turn against
me, but he did Bubba for quite a while; however, after Bubba came back
from Nam, it was a different story.
I’d been dating
a pretty little girl my last couple of years in high school and I was
falling in love with her. I was sexually attracted to her, but I
wouldn’t do anything with her when we were out courting. I told
her if we ever did get together I wanted it to be the first for both of
us. I didn’t think what us boys did together was important to our
situation. Curtis helped me realize that.
After my dreams
were shattered by the death of two of the most important people in my
life, I didn’t know what to do. I was so scared Bubba wouldn’t
make it back, I prayed to God like a demon with one foot in a lake of
fire for Him to watch over, protect and let my big brother come home to
me. I remember laying in Bubba’s arms one night after he came
home, crying my heart out telling him I was the only reason he
made it home.
I told him about
talking to the Old Man morning, noon and night. He was so touched
we lay there and cried together. We let out a lot of built up
frustration and garbage that useless war brought to all of us.”
O.C. began to be
more interested in talking with me than fucking anymore and slowly
withdrew his still rock hard penis. I got a damp towel and
cleaned us up, and then, asked him to put my plug back in for me.
He got a kick out of that and had no problem satisfying my
request. I told him why I wanted it returned and he thought it
was a great idea. As we lay there in each others arms, and I
started him up again with his story with a question.
“What made you
decide to get married, O.C.? Did you talk with Bubba?”
some. Bubba never has any hidden agendas. If’n he even has
an agenda he’s totally up front about it. He told me we still had
each other, and he didn’t plan on giving up my love. He still
wanted and needed me, so why couldn’t we be like brothers? I
could get married, but I didn’t have to give him up neither. It
weren’t like we’d be cheat’n on our wives if’n we’s to get away by
ourselves to go hunt’n or fishing together. Hell,— Bubba’n me,—
we’s tighter’n lots a’ brothers.
Since my dad
died the summer before I entered high school, I went to your granddad
and told him I needed a dad to talk with. I think that did more
for Curtis than anything I ever done for ‘em. He sat there and
cried like a damn baby. I was brutally honest with him. I told
him all about my love for his boys and Bubba and how mixed up I
was. I knew in my heart I weren’t never gonna’ find nobody like
them three men to settle down with. ‘Sides, Bubba was all ready
married and had a kid by the time he returned. I wanted Curtis’s
opinion about asking Annie to marry me.
I thought I was
gonna’ get me one a’ them, there, long winded lectures with a lot
of hell fire’n damnation preaching about the vile, evil abomination of
homosexuality and the unforgivably sinfulness in God’s eyes of two men
sleeping with one another. He surprised the hell out of me.
He didn’t even wince when I graphically told him about me’n yore’
uncle’s sexual relationship. After I finished, he quietly told me
a story I’ll never forget as long as I live.
It seems Curtis
Langtry and my daddy, Dwight Harris, were best buds growing up.
He told me how their relationship grew and blossomed into more than
just a friendship. He told me he couldn’t help himself, he fell
deeply in love with my dad, and they began to have sex with each
other. I never imagined I would be hearing a story like this from
Curtis Langtry. It was so bizarre, I hung on to his every
word. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. It explained a
lot of things, like why my dad would allow me to be with Vince, Seth
and Bubba so much. He had a physical connection with these men;
or at least, the Langtry boys. Bubba? Well, Bubba’s just
Bubba. To know ‘em is to love him.”
We agreed and
shared a laugh. I urged him to go on. I was clinging to his
every word and O.C. seemed to be finding a great release and
almost a relief telling me this story.
“He told me as
he and my dad got older they talked about being together, but living in
such a small community, it would be hard to hide their sexual
attraction to each other. They decided to get married, live near
each other and not give each other up; like, Bubba suggested to
me. I told him what Bubba told me, and Curtis agreed it could
work. I was floored. It really was like I had a dad to talk
to, and he was understanding about my problem.
He went on to
tell me it worked fine for him and my dad for a good while and they
were happy. Curtis married and my dad was his best man at his
wedding. Curtis was my dad’s best man at his wedding.
After Curtis had
Vince, things couldn’t be better. They’d go off by themselves for
a weekend to rodeo in another town and fuck their brains out when they
weren’t rodeoing. They also supplemented their incomes with their
winnings, so their wives didn’t complain. Everything was working
out just fine.
Until,— one day
there was this traveling evangelical preacher who came to town and put
up a big canvas tent for revival services. As Curtis described
him, the man was a weaseled faced little son of a bitch who had bad
breath and combed his thinning hair until it was piled as high on his
head as he could get it to make him look taller than he really
was. You know cowboys have an old saying about the believability
of preachers; ‘The higher the hair, the closer to God.’”
O.C. paused for
a minute as we laughed at his cowboy homily; then, he continued.
hands were always cold and wet when he shook yours. Curtis said
he wouldn’t shake your hand like a man should; he’d take your hand in
his clammy little paw, then put his other hand on top of yours and just
hold it, while looking deeply into your eyes with his beady, little
rat-like eyes like he was looking into your soul for something good to
eat. He’d get a self-righteous, saccharine smile across his
ugly face that looked like he had an insider’s knowledge of something
you didn’t have a clue about.
him as being a thoroughly disgusting little man. He said he
thought he was a phony from the first time he met him. Curtis
hated him immediately and wanted nothing to do with him or his
revival. He said the worst thing about the preacher was he made
Curtis feel itchy all over like he’d given him scabies when he shook
As Curtis told
me the story tears started running down his cheeks. He wasn’t
crying as such; he just couldn’t seem to control the water leaking from
his eyes. He paused for a long moment until he could get himself
together; then, proceeded to tell me my dad told him he was going with
my mother to one of the meetings. My dad told Curtis he wasn’t
particularly interested, but he wanted to keep peace in the family.
I guess dad went
and the preacher preached a hell fire, damnation sermon about the
wickedness and abomination of a man sleeping with another man as with a
woman. According to Curtis, the oily little bastard scared my dad
to death and got him to thinking about being eternally damned to a dark
pit or a lake of fire. I guess my dad went to Curtis with his
concerns and Curtis tried to reason with him. My dad would have
none of it and eventually confessed his sins to the little bastard.
The power hungry
preacher went to Curtis and told him if he didn’t repent and confess
his sins to him, he would be forever damned to hell. Oh,
yes, and there was one more little rider to Curtis’ forgiveness.
He had to take a mortgage on his ranch and give it to the preacher as a
tithe offering so he could continue God’s work saving other sinner like
Curtis and my dad, Tom. If he didn’t, the preacher would tell
their wives and their community of the men’s wicked ways.
rightfully devastated, but he loved my dad so much he figured he
probably got scared and had a weak moment. He was probably
beguiled by the serpent to get my dad to admit his sins to him assuring
him they would go no further than him. Not only did he blackmail
Curtis, he did the same to my dad. Curtis knew he had to talk
with his bonded mate and get him to present a united front against the
Curtis said he
rode his pony over to our ranch and quietly approached the barn.
My mom told him the preacher and my dad were out there praying to save
my dad’s soul. When Curtis walked into the barn he found my dad
with his Wranglers down around his boot tops and the preacher on his
knees in front of him sucking on my dad’s dick like an orthodox Jew
praying at the wailing wall. He said my dad looked up at him with
a look of horror on his face and tried to hide his shame by
covering his face with his hands.
the preacher up by the scruff of his next and proceeded to beat the
living crap out of him. He damn near did, too, before my dad
could get his pants pulled up and stopped Curtis from doing permanent
damage to the son of a bitch. Curtis told the preacher, he and
his revival tent better be out of town by sundown or he would
personally see to it the little bastard would never see another sunrise.
little son of a bitch challenged Curtis and told him he wouldn’t be so
sure about that after he convinced the town folks what an abomination
they had living in their midst. Curtis just laughed at him,
pulled his pig sticker out of his back pocket and flipped it
open. He was so angry he was ready to castrate the stupid little
man right there. My dad begged him not to and told him it would
be their word against the preacher’s; however, my dad added if the
preacher caused either of them any grief, they would hunt him down like
a wounded animal and complete the deed. He would live the rest of
his life as a bible thump’n eunuch.”
God!” I quietly exclaimed. “No wonder my granddad went off the
deep end with religion.”
really hurt him. My dad said some pretty bad things about their
relationship, and then, for Curtis to find the man he loved giving
himself to a piece of shit like the preacher was just too much for him
to handle,— spiritually or emotionally. He stopped having
anything to do with my dad and started going to church with his wife
and making his kids go whether they wanted to or not. He
distanced himself from them and his wife and began to see all the flaws
in everyone around him.
He began to be
consumed by fundamentalism like it was the answer to everything in
life; like it was the water of truth, and he couldn’t drink deeply
enough of it. The more he drank the thirstier he became.
There was no end to his evangelism. Finally there was a
complete break between him, his family, his wife’s family and my dad
He came to visit
my dad in the hospital the evening before he died and tried to preach
to him to seek forgiveness for his sins. My dad assured him he
was forgiven. They only person in the world or heaven who he
needed to ask forgiveness of was from the man he loved all his life,
Curtis Langtry. With tears running down his face, Curtis told me
he couldn’t forgive him. He was angry with my dad until he died,
and for sometime afterward.”
“Did he ever
take it out on you, O.C.?”
fact, he was the only one to help my mom and me when times really got
tough for us. We almost lost the ranch a couple of times, but
Curtis always came through. We never asked, he was always right
there. He never tried to push himself on us, but he was there if
we needed him. My mom knew all she had to do was pick up the phone and
call Curtis Langtry and he’d be there to help in minutes.
He toned down
his act a little after my dad died. He lost his wife several
years before. I heard tell she died of loneliness and a broken
heart. To be honest, the more I think on it, I think that’s why
my dad passed away so young. He loved me and my mom, but without
Curtis, he just seemed to give up on life. I don’t think he ever
forgave himself or got over what he done to Curtis. He felt like
the way Curtis turned out was his fault. As I think back on it
today, he was probably right. In his grief, he wasted away
to nothing. Finally, his immune system was so weakened, he caught
pneumonia and died.”
What those men must have gone through. No wonder my granddad’s
had such a hard time with his life.”
“Don’t get the
wrong impression about me telling you all this, Casey. I love
yore’ granddaddy like he was my own dad. I get him off by himself
ever’ Christmas to tell him I love him and appreciate him. I jes’
thought you should know these things, and ain’t nobody else knows ‘em
but Bubba’n me.”
We talked some
more and I felt myself falling in love with O.C. Harris. I know,—
I fall in love with every cowboy who throws a decent fuck into me, but
this was different. Every love you experience in life is
different. Don’t mean one is better than another,— they’re just
different. Love is love, no matter how you try to define
it. All I knew at the moment was, there was a deeper bond between
O.C. Harris and me than anyone suspected.
End of Chapter
35 ~ Texas Longhorns
Copyright 2005 ~