Date: Mon, 14 Jul 2008 18:15:51 -0500 From: fireflywatcher_ford Subject: Judging This is the first of several short stories featuring Acer, a judge at stock shows and cutting horse competitions. His situation is based on that of a friend. I hope you enjoy it. I reserve all rights to this orignal fiction story. It may not be reproduced or published without written permission. You know all the warnings. This is original work and reserved by me.My writings can be found at http://groups.google.com/Fireflywatchers-Stories It is a storage site mostly. You can read or comment without joining. Phil Ford Judging "That concludes the events of the evening, ladies and gentlemen. Let's give a big hand to all our competitors, the staff, and the clowns," the announcer blared. "There is a dance in the rodeo hall beginning right now. In the morning livestock judging will begin at nine and there'll be another parade at three in the afternoon. We hope to see you all again tomorrow night for the next round of competition. On behalf of the Rodeo Association, I thank you for coming." Acer Caldwell strode down the steps of the stands from where he'd been sitting. Most of the crowd had started for the gate when the announcer started his speech. The cowboys tending the chutes were headed out in front of him. One had his left foot up on the fence rail adjusting the strap on his spur. He saw Acer and pushed his hat up with the other hand. Releasing the strap, he ran his fingers along the curve of his ass, the only part of his jeans not covered by chaps except the crotch. Acer touched two fingers to the brim of his hat. "Logan," he said, acknowledging the cowboy. "Did you have a hard night tonight?" "Can't say I did," Logan answered, "But it might get that way real soon." Logan's eyes followed Acer as he continued to walk, not stopping to chatter. Spurs jingled indicating twice the pace Acer was moving. "Wait up," Logan called. "You going to the dance tonight?" he asked. "I'm judging in the morning. I'm headed to my trailer. I'm having a couple of beers I've got iced down and hitting the sack," Acer replied. "You want a cold one?" he asked Logan at a whisper. "Hell yeah," Logan whispered back. The arena lights cut out just as the reached the back side of the barns. There was a glow from the spectator parking, but turning that corner it was pitch black. Acer looped his wrist around Logan's waist and felt his way along the side of the barn with the fingers of his other hand. He stopped half way down and brought the keychain out of his pocket. "Beep beep," came the sound when he pressed the button. Acer got the door unlocked while Logan shed his spurs and chaps. Logan folded them and laid them in the pickup bed. Acer handed him a beer and they both popped the tops off. The trailer had a bed over the gooseneck and was like a travel trailer in front. A center section held gear and tack, and the back held up to four horses, but they were bedded down in the barns. "What was you going to do tonight?" Acer inquired. "I had in mind to hit the showers and meet Jim Bob at the dance. I'm a little ripe from working the stock." "Little dicked Jim Bob?" Acer snickered. "Come on now Acer, you know he's my best bud. All of us got to play what we're dealt. At least he's enthusiastic," Logan moaned. "You aught to buy him one of those damn pumps you see in the magazines. If he's your best bud, you should help him out," Acre came back. They were sitting on the tailgate. Acer got up and went in the trailer. He turned the radio on low and came back with a bottle in his hand. He took a sip and passed it to Logan. Kenny Chesney serenaded them. Then it was Brad Paisley. The bottle passed back and forth and more longneck caps were popped off and spun into the dirt. An hour passed. "Let's hit the wash house," Acre suggested. "I'll grab some clean clothes from my truck and meet you there," Logan agreed. Logan was parked nearby. Acer heard him bump into things and shout out "Damn" several times while he gathered a change and his shower kit. They joined up before either reached the little white building. It did show up a little in the dark. When Logan gave the door a push, light streamed out, nearly blinding them for an instant. Each man helped the other get his boots off and they hung their clothes on the hooks above the bench. No one else was there. Stepping into the shower, Logan commented, "I see why you call Jim Bob, little." Acer was plumping up some, besides his normal larger size. Seeing it hanging there in front of him, Logan began to grow, too. He licked his lips and Acer noticed. "You ain't got no boy's toy there either Logan. Jim Bob just got shorted," Acer shot back. "You do my back and I'll do yours." Logan didn't answer. He took his soap and began lathering Acer's back. By the time Logan's hands reached Acer's butt, he was fully hard. It was steamy from the running showers and Logan turned quickly to offer his back, but Acer saw the boner he'd sprouted. "I looked down between the planks and seen Tommy Haley getting him some Owens sausage under the stands," Acer informed Logan. "Bobby Owens was on his knees next. I guess they thought nobody could see them down there. I bet they both had dirt on their knees, but I didn't see them again." "Those high school boys better quit that shit. If somebody else seen it, they'd have hell to pay, Logan replied. "They both got calves you're judging, don't they?" "Yeah, I ain't seen them. I never look until I do the judging. I try to be fair. I ain't the only judge, either. Three of us give them marks," Acer answered. He plunged his head under the stream to wash the shampoo out. He turned to soap Logan's back. Logan had already washed everywhere else and rinsed. Acer was done, too. Logan leaned against the tile wall with his chest placing both hands above him, hands and elbows to the tile as well and spreading his feet apart. Acer rubbed the soap all over Logan's back. When he ran his soapy finger up and down Logan's butt crack, Logan moaned. He started working in the soap at the shoulders, massaging his way down. "You can fuck me if you want to," Logan told him. "I've done it before." Acer picked up the bottle of conditioner, squirted a good amount on his hard dick, and fingered more into Logan's ass. Acer was taller. He bent at the knees to meet the entrance and rose to push inside. That lifted Logan to his toes. "You could have had me anytime, always could," Logan confessed. "You gave me hints a lot. The timing wasn't right. Tonight is good," Acer responded. He grasped Logan with both hands on his hips. Each thrust lifted Logan off the floor. He reached around and jerked Logan to bring them off at the same time. Logan painted the shower wall and Acer filled his ass. They rinsed off and got out to dry off. "Is Jim Bob taking care of your needs most of the time?" Acer asked. "Naw, we ain't a match. We both like receiving. He's got a quick shot rabbit fuck kid next door and an older guy from the auction for endurance, tending to his needs. I got rosy palm." They sat on the bench a while to cool down. Both were still standing out about half hard. The door creaked and opened. "Tommy, Bobby," Acer said. "I looked down from the stands this evening. You two need to be more careful." Both boys blushed and went to the urinals to piss. They didn't reply. "We have to sleep with the show stock," Tommy told them. "I did the same thing when I was your age," Acer replied. The boys left hurriedly and the two men dressed to leave for the trailer. "You want to bunk with me tonight?" Acer asked Logan. "Ain't nobody at home. I was hoping you'd ask," Logan responded. They got naked again once the door was shut and locked. They played some more sitting on the couch, having beers and passing the bottle. Then they climbed up in the bunk. "I know you're gone most of the time working the stock shows," Logan told Acer. "When you get back home, can you spend some time with me again?" Logan asked. "I promise," Acer swore. They had dosed off in the bunk, but when the dance let out, all the hooting and hollering woke them up. Three times cowboys came knocking on the door wanting a cold beer. Acer sent them away saying he was fresh out. The forth knock was different. "Acer, its Cotton. I need to see you bad," the voice said. "I've been waiting for you to get home for two months. Open up and let me in." "Man, Cotton, I have to judge in the morning. Can't we get together tomorrow," Acer begged. "I've been asleep for two hours." "All right, but I ain't a happy camper," Cotton answered. "He wants to play," Acer told Logan. "Let him in. You can sleep and I'll help him out," Logan offered. Acer jumped down from the bunk. He dashed open the door. "Cotton, Cotton, come on back man," Acer yelled. Cotton came through the door and Acer locked it behind him. "Can you handle a two for one special," Acer joked. Logan climbed down to join them. "Damn Logan, I'd never have figured I'd be seeing you like this," Cotton confessed. Acer handed him a beer and Cotton started shedding clothes. Cotton was a big guy with dark hair and a furry chest. He was a full head taller than Logan. All three were about the same age, in their mid-twenties. Logan straddled a leg and pulled off one boot. He repeated it with the other leg. Cotton lifted his butt as Logan pulled on the legs of his jeans, and they slid off. His dick slapped against his flat belly from the release, because he wasn't wearing anything underneath. Logan ran his tongue under the skin covering Cotton's knob. Then he pulled it down and made a circle around it before swallowing it to the root. "Damn Logan, we should have gotten together before this," Cotton exclaimed. "I've done everything but drop my pants and say 'fuck me.' I've had a crush on you and Acer both for years," Logan confessed. Acer leaned in and gave Cotton a kiss. "I leave you in capable hands, cowboy," Acer told him. He climbed back up in the bunk, leaving them to continue without him. He woke the next morning with them snuggled up to him in the bunk and left them there do work the show. At the last judging of the day, Acer walked up to them with Jim Bob talking to Logan. "You've got a hitch in your giddy-up there, Logan," Jim Bob observed. "I stepped off into something on the way to my truck last night," Logan explained. "Can you find another volunteer to work the chutes?" Logan didn't want to explain the real cause of his funny walk, not even to Jim Bob. "No problem, Bud. You get better so you can work your place. I got you covered," Jim Bob told him. Tommy and Bobby begged a ride to eat lunch saying they were starving on rodeo food. The five of them loaded into Acer's crew cab and headed into town. Acer pulled into the only place in town that had buffet style, all you can eat lunches. After a stop to restock the beer and ice supply on the way, they made it back to the rodeo grounds. Bobby and Tommy went inside the trailer. Acer brought the cooler out to refill, shutting the door behind him. He handed Cotton and Logan a beer as he filled up the cooler. "They need a few minutes of private time," he told the men. "Tommy feeds my horses while I'm gone." They sat on the tailgate with the radio playing. Cotton had a broom weed stick in his hand. He beat it against the metal in time with the music. Logan started a round of the cowboy's favorite pastime, a liar's contest. "I knew this good old boy who had a big black mare," he began. "She was a good horse most of the time. When she got near water, a creek or a river, maybe a stock tank or a lake, she'd swim right out in the middle. Nothing he could do would turn her aside. Out there in the middle of the water, that damned old mare would start to roll. She'd keep it up until she got him off her back, then she'd swim to the shore and stand there waiting on him to swim out. Swimming with your boots on is no easy task. It's all in your arms. You can't kick your feet worth a shit. Your boots fill up with water and damn near drag you to the bottom. Pair of chaps are even worse. He'd come out of that water half drowned, cussing and stomping and raising hell. She'd stand there with those big old eyes looking at him and taking it all. Once was enough, but it got where he'd start steering her away when he knew some water was up ahead. She'd smell it anyway and couldn't be turned. After nearly drowning a half dozen times, he got real mad. When he swam out, besides all the cussing and stomping, he took her reins and led her over to a tree. He climbed high enough and pulled out his pecker and pissed all over her face. She just stood there and took it. No telling what he'd have to find to climb up on, but he kept doing it every time, after he swam out. She must not have liked smelling piss all the time, because she quit. She'd still swim out and roll if she got the chance, but not with him on her back." Cotton was itching to tell one, but the boys came out of the trailer just then. It was time to ride up to the head of the parade by then, so they got their horses saddled and took the back streets of town to the starting point. Since theirs was the home rodeo association, they rode lead in the parade. The flag carriers went first, then that year's queen, the president of the association, and cowboys four abreast down the line to the next group of riders. All the side streets were blocked off and the sidewalk was full. The sheriff's car took the lead with him jabbering away on the horn the whole time. Acer filled the last slot in a row and the other four made the next row. They rode up Main Street smiling and waving to the turn around at the court house, then back down the other side of the street and on to the gate of the rodeo grounds. An hour after they had their horses in the stalls, more riders were still coming in. They left the horses saddled for the grand entry. Sitting on the tailgate again, Acer watched each riding club return. Logan and Cotton paid them no attention. Maybe Acer was hoping to spot someone. He never said. The boys took off home for supper and to bring back their own pickups. They weren't allowed to have them the night they had to stay with the show stock. Other boys had turns sleeping with the stock for the rest of the show. Logan made a quick run to Dairy Queen and brought back supper. Two hours passes pretty fast. The boys just returned when it was time to get ready for the grand entry. They parked beside the trailer where Cotton and Logan had moved their pickups and it was a rush to get their gear on. Acer helped Tommy buckle his chaps and Cotton helped Bobby. They got to the back of the arena just in time to join the lineup. The other rider's clubs were snaked in already. The flag bearers set the pace near the speed of barrel racers, making all the twists and turns with everyone trying to keep up. Then it was out the exit gate as fast as they'd come in, and back to the barn. Tommy said that he and Bobby would tend to the horses, so the three men walked back to the trailer. They got their duds off, back to jeans, shirt, boots, and hat, and sat to have a beer before going in to watch the events. The national anthem was blaring over the arena speakers. Saturday coming up was the fourth of July. At six-thirty in the evening it was still damn hot, but not a record breaker like some years, just in the mid-nineties. Acer thought that was damn near a cold spell compared to years he remembered. He come back from riding in the parade or the grand entry and be soaked under his chaps. He'd be so hot it felt like he was sweating blood. His feet, inside his boots, would feel like they were on fire. This is where they were raised. The trailer was plugged into the juice. They could be sitting inside cooling down under the air conditioner, but they were all used to the heat. The rodeo was the one big deal in this little town of fifteen hundred. It was a once a year shot. More people showed up to watch or participate than lived here. The motels were booked full and RVs filled their lots and the rodeo grounds to catch the overflow. Acer had to go in to see the roping events. He judged cutting and roping events in addition to stock shows and the more he watched, the better he'd be at doing his job. He swallowed the dregs from his bottle and headed into the arena. All he knew for sure was the rest would show up for the bull riding, the last event. When he parked his butt in the far corner at the top of the stands, his hand was cramped from shaking so many cowboys' hands. He been stopped a hundred times at least since coming through the gate. Even his brain was a little addled. You had to remember something special to recount to each one or they'd think you didn't remember them. He'd worn his best smile. If he got home more often this wouldn't happen. He'd just be another cowboy you see every day, and greetings would be exchanged with a tip of your hat. There was no changing the way things were. Other men would kill to have his job. He was a lucky son of a bitch. When a couple of events were up he could afford to miss, Acer snuck back to the trailer for a beer. He stood beside his pickup and pissed on the tire first. Then he sat down, beer in hand, with Cotton and Logan, and the two boys, who were still there at the trailer. "We'll be there for the saddle broncs and barebacks, and the bull riding," Logan assured him. Tommy and Bobby had fixed them a spot to sleep in the horse end of the trailer with hay bales and blankets. They had to be up giving their steers a bath at six for the next days round. Going home for the night would cut into too much sleeping time and cut out the fun they had together. They brought folding canvas fishing chairs from home that beat the tailgate all to hell, too. Bobby had a little hibachi grill going with some chicken cooking. "There's a few pieces done, if you're hungry," he offered. The barbeque sauce covering it was so thick it would take a roll of paper towels to clean his hands enough to wash, so Acer passed. Good to their word, the guys all joined him before the bronc riding started. When the last bull rider was done, Acer headed to the dance. The boys followed along, but Cotton and Logan weren't up for it. He twirled several of the belles around the floor before calling it a night. Truth be known, he'd have stayed until they threw everyone out and locked the doors if he could have danced with Cotton or Logan or any of a dozen other men he liked. That was not the way things were. The showers weren't used much. A cowboy can get into some nasty messes from time to time and they were there mostly for those occasions. Acer tossed back a shot of Jim Beam and downed a beer before heading to clean up. All five of them went this time. The showers weren't in a line of sight for anyone coming in. Even the pissers and the sinks were out of that line. The damned old door creaked enough to give out a warning on its own, so they had some extended play and steam was still rolling out of the nozzles an hour and a half later when they left. No one had come in. Both boys were eighteen and about to enter their senior year in high school that fall. At twenty-five, the men weren't much older. Tommy and Bobby played together for a while, watching the show in front of them. They had only played together before, neither with anyone else and had had only oral sex. This lasted just the last few months. They'd been friends forever. Acer came close enough to catching them and had told them so. They knew he didn't care. Acer liking a little man to man action was a surprise. He'd been like a big brother to Tommy. When he said he'd seen them going at it below the stands, they knew he wouldn't tell anyone. They watched as Acer drove it home to Logan. When Cotton entered Acer from behind at the same time, Tommy blew a load down Bobby's throat. Swallowing wasn't something they did. Bobby slurped it up and seemed to like the taste. Acer pulled out of Logan and took on Cotton's ass. Logan moved to the boys and leaned against the wall, offering them a fuck. Tommy didn't hesitate and drove right in. Bobby went to the floor and swallowed Logan's dick. When Tommy felt Logan throbbing, he knew Bobby was getting his second taste of baby batter. He pulled out even though he hadn't cum again to give Bobby a chance at Logan's butt. Acer offered his ass to Tommy with a slap to his own butt while still pounding Cotton. Tommy moved in. After Tommy was in, Cotton pulled away and moved to take Tommy from the back. He was in before Tommy knew what was happening. It hurt a little at first, but sandwiched between the men, he got to liking it pretty quick. He looked over and saw Logan with his face buried in Bobby's crack and knew that would come next. In an hour and a half the five of them found every possible combination and managed to put the soap and shampoo to their intended uses before getting out. At the trailer again, Tommy took two cokes and poured in six capfuls of Jim Beam in each one like he was dispensing medicine. They retreated to their pallet on the hay bales in back to 'practice' some more before going to sleep. They had to bathe the steers at six the next morning and get them ready for the next round of competition. Acer drank one beer before he climbed up in the bunk. He thought he'd played enough with Logan and Cotton to make them both happy and they could continue on without him. Cotton and Logan had more room to move around down below, so they stayed there. At six, Acer heard Tommy knocking. He let him in to make some coffee, and sat there alone drinking some himself after Tommy left. The next three days followed the same pattern. On Saturday morning, Tommy won Grand Champion and Bobby finished second with Champion. The boys did a lot of work with the calves but Acer's keen eye for picking the best calves to start with had cinched the wins. Both boys had won before. Tommy had won three times. They had a big war chest put back for school or a place of their own. Acer paid his way through school winning shows and had enough left to buy his two sections, with a small loan. He'd helped Logan back then, and when Logan flunked out his first semester, he'd paid cash for a ranch and stock. Cotton was the lucky son. He didn't show or win prize money. His granddad had sold him two sections for a dollar to avoid the inheritance taxes before he passed on. Saturday night their partying was crazier than hell. The association volunteers had to run them off the next morning to clean up the parking lot. Acer bid them all farewell saying he'd see them when he saw them. His next stop was San Antonio. He went to his place to do laundry and spend one night. Acer's dad had passed on from cancer three years earlier. Coming in the door, he noticed cobwebs covering his dad's hat where it hung on the rack. He dusted it clean and put it up, inside a box. As he drove away the next morning, he thought 'Someday I'll be able to stay at home. I'll train horses or live on what I can make off my cows. Right now, I've got to keep on judging, but someday```.'