This story is fiction. Any resemblance to real persons is coincidental. This story contains graphic sex between males, plus guns, violence, fire, alcohol, drugs, prayer and many other cautionary things. Don't read if you're under age where you live or are offended by this type of material. Don't post this anywhere without asking my permission.

Comments very welcome! Email me at: or join my Yahoo group for free at: to keep up with this and my other stories, like Tutoring Jerry. Aaaaand, my old Geocities site (with nude pics of Tutoring Jerry characters, some of my poetry and personal pics etc) didn't die with the Geocities demise because WebRing picked it up. But the homepage, with links to the other pages and other sites, is in cyber vacuum while I figure out how to rebuild it-- and WebRing doesn't make it easy like Geo did. But the other seven pages are still there at: and my old page one is now the homepage.

For those familiar with Tutoring Jerry, this story is nothing like it. While it is ultimately a love story, it's not exactly a romantic fling, more like drunken Friday night redneck mud wrestling :-) Enjoy!

Johnny Ray Benson:


Just when it seemed like Buck was relaxing as we drove, and maybe forgetting all the emotional shit I had unloaded on him at his house, we had to come across Billy Ragland out on County Line Road. I had sat there in the passenger seat in agony, watching and listening to him openly flirt with that new little long haired faggot city-boy. Oh hell, I didn't know if he was a fag or not, but the way he flirted like a preacher's daughter with Buck, it sure seemed like it to me.

I had never felt anything even close to the raging jealousy and hatred I felt right then for that kid in my life. I gripped the seat and armrest with white knuckles, fighting to keep myself from jumping out and stomping the little fucker into the ground, or at least yelling at him to stay the fuck away from Buck-- and throwing the whiskey bottle right past Buck's face, through his window and decking him. That would have shocked the hell out of Buck! I couldn't understand why I was getting so worked up over this! I didn't own Buck Tennyson; he wasn't mine!

I somehow managed to hold my temper while we were there. But as soon as we drove away, like some crazy fuckin' jealous woman, I had to go and say something totally stupid and piss Buck off. What the hell kind of reaction did I expect from him anyway, when I called him a queer? Well, he actually reacted calmer than I would've ever expected. I would have expected most big redneck guys like him to drag me out of the pickup and beat the livin' shit out of me-- and I worried that he still might do that when we got to his house.

Damn me and my big mouth! I had watched him sweet talk many a woman at Bebe's and never felt a jealous twinge-- well, maybe a little twinge, but even after the second time with him, when I started really getting these powerful strong feelings for him, I hadn't gone stupid like I did tonight. I knew damn well that Buck Tennyson was not going to return my feelings, and I knew damn well that my feelings were wrong, twisted and un-natural. Everything about me was wrong, and I had gone and told him all of it-- except that I was in love with him-- and had put him on the spot after Darla left.

I still had a hard time dealing with my little secret, my little need. Scratch that; it was a great big, horrible, secret, and a need so overwhelming that I sometimes worried I was going to lose my mind. The more I fought it, the stronger the need got. The more I tried to deny it was there, the heavier the secret got. I'd gotten to the point where I had a hard time lookin' people in the eye when I talked to them.

At nineteen, I had never had even a crush on any guy or girl, and I had no fucking idea what love was. I'd had these queer thoughts about guys all through high school, but I kept thinkin' it was just a phase or something. After graduation, I stayed on workin' the farm with Dad. Not bein' around folks much, I had a lot of time to think, about life, about me, about my `problem'-- which I realized about then was damn sure not just a phase-- but I had pretty well convinced myself that I could put that shit out of my mind if I tried hard enough and just didn't think about sex at all. It had been working pretty good, up until I started going to Bebe's and being around Buck all the time.

He was there most every night and he was always hitting on some woman-- and being successful a lot of the time-- and once he noticed me, after I beat him at pool one night, he started talking to me a lot. He just had a way of making you feel like you were the only person in the world, or like you were the most important one to him when he was talking to you. He would get up real close so he could talk in my ear without having to raise his voice over the jukebox, and he would sometimes real casually rub his crotch against my hand if it was hanging down by my side-- and I wouldn't move it away-- or he would jokingly pat my ass and tease me to distract me from shooting, or put his arm around my shoulders and lean in to say something funny about someone in the bar and his lips might brush my ear and send tingles all down my body, and I would have to kind of arch my butt back so my boner wouldn't show.

I guess to me it seemed like he was always flirting with everyone he talked to or something. I dunno, it just seemed like everything that came out of his mouth had some sexual meaning. He could offer to buy me a beer and it seemed like he was asking me to come home with him or something. I'm sure it was just my horny mind. But I would watch him sweet talking the ladies and making moves on them, all leaning in close, whisperin' things in their ear and rubbin' his hand around on their ass. At first, I told myself I was watching him to pick up pointers on how to pick up women. Yeah, right. Shit, I had taken to leaving my shirt-tails out to cover up the boner I had almost full time when I was at Bebe's watchin' Buck.

After we got it on in his pickup that first time, all I could think about was him. He'd just taken my damn mind over. I'd never been in this kind of shape before. All I thought about was how he felt in me and how he made me feel all the time. Goddamn, he was so fucking smooth talking and sexy! I remembered thinking of that song by Terri Gibbs, Somebody's Knockin' and how perfectly it fit Buck, when I realized that he was actually coming onto me:

"Somebody's knockin', should I let him in?

Lord it's the devil, would you look at him.

I'd heard about him, but I never dreamed,

he'd have blue eyes and blue jeans.

Well somebody's talkin', he's whispering to me,

Your place or my place, well, which will it be

I'm gettin weaker and he's comin' on strong,

but I don't wanna go wrong

He must have tapped my telephone line,

he must have known I was spendin' my time alone

He says we'll have one heavenly night,

my fever's burnin', so he ought to be right at home."

The thing was: I DID want to `go wrong'! I wanted to go wrong with Buck Tennyson so bad I could hardly maintain around him. If he was the devil with blue eyes and blue jeans, I was ready to sell my soul lock, stock and barrel. There'd been three weeks between our first and second times together, about two weeks between the second and third, and about a week and a half between the third time and tonight. After the third time together, I was goin' plum crazy. I never needed anything, anyone, so bad in my life.

I tried hard not to think about what that made me, because it was all just too complicated. For one thing, the fact that he made me want to `be the woman' with him, was the hardest thing to accept. Like, if it had been a two way street, like, equal time on top or something, that would have been one thing but, it just wasn't that way. I wanted-- no, needed-- to be like this for him and for him to `be the man' with me. The way he took control and the way he talked to me just made me shiver and made me practically cum in my underwear just thinking about it. All the little thoughts I had back in school, well, I really didn't know I had anything like this in me.

But it had been listening to him and Darla fuck tonight that had put me over the edge and made me accept that I really was in love with him, which meant that I had to be totally queer. All the while I listened to them, all I could think was how much I wanted it to be me in there, me he was pounding, making me scream and moan and call him daddy and beg for more and... God, I had almost cum again just listening to them. And even though I already pretty well knew it, the reality that I was in love... with a man... It hit me like a ton of fucking bricks.

He had been nicer about it than he should have been, letting me know he thought I was fucked up, but that it was kind of ok with him, as long as I kept my secret. I was so confused and scared. It was all just hitting me like a horse-kick in the gut as I sat at the bar after she left that I was totally, one hundred percent queer-- and queer for Buck. I wanted him to want me so fucking bad it hurt.

But I knew that nobody could tie Buck Tennyson down and miraculously end his dog wandering days-- especially a guy. He was a hound dog from the word go. He was proud of being a smooth talking, virgin busting, wife stealing womanizer. He would rattle off his conquests like they were medals of honor. He was the stud of the county, of five counties, and no one was gonna get him to settle down.

Hell, until he came on to me, I really hadn't thought he was into guys at all. I had hoped and fantasized, and blown every little thing he said or did that seemed like a signal all out of proportion, but until he made his move on me, I just couldn't really picture a ladies man like him actually getting into sex with a guy. I mean, he got so much pussy, how could he want gay sex too? But he did, and he was damn good at it. Hell, he was a whole lot more comfortable with guy sex than I ever thought of being.

I had gotten the feeling that after my little outburst at his place that I was in for a lot of emotional shit, whether he was understanding or not, but then I had to go and open my big mouth after leaving Billy Ragland. Shit!

I was still gripping the seat and armrest with white knuckles as I pressed myself into the door when we pulled into his driveway. I had blown it so fucking bad! He was pissed. No, he was livid. He was spitting nails as he stomped up the walk to his front door. I followed like a beat down hound dog, deciding I needed to try and leave as soon as possible, let him cool down. I apologised at least ten times before we got to his house, but he couldn't hear me over the blaring music and racing engine. I had feared for our lives, the way he drove-- raced-- back, taking turns too fast and running at least two stop signs.

But I was more scared of him than wrecking. I had never seen him this mad, even in fights at the bar, like the other night with that jerkoff Jake. I just kept thinking, `Oh god, what have I done?! Is he going to beat the shit out of me or something? Please, please, God, just let him calm down and let me go home.'

I followed him inside and stood dejectedly in the middle of the lving room, watching him stomp and bang around the kitchen in my peripheral vision from my downcast eyes. I was fighting back tears with everything I had, but I was so scared, ashamed and embarrassed, I was losing the battle. The tears started gathering in my eyes and leaking out. I angrily swatted them off my cheeks and tried not to be noticed.

Buck slammed the icebox door and we heard the door's contents fly out of their shelves, clinking and rattling into the interior. He glared at me as he poured us both a very stiff drink. I didn't want any more to drink. I wanted to get the hell out of there, just disappear. I goddamn sure didn't want him to see me crying.

But he did. He hmphed, snorted and stomped his boot again. "STOP that shit! Don't you go criyin' on me now! Goddammit, Johnny Ray! Don't go actin' like some goddamned WOMAN, now!"

I wanted to die. I already felt stupid and embarrassed enough; now he was calling me a woman. I had never felt so humiliated in my life, and that it was Buck Tennyson raging at me was too much to handle. I could take shit from anybody else, and fight back. I could kick some serious ass and had never lost a fight. I could hold my own in an argument with my dad or anyone else... Anyone but Buck Tennyson. Just the thought of him bein' mad at me just about brought me to tears-- and I was never the crying type. I stood there shaking and cried harder, wanting to run away from him but unable to move my feet. I barely sobbed out in a tiny voice, "I'm sorry, Buck."

He stomped over and leaned down, red faced, with his nose an inch away from mine as he yelled, with spittle flying out of his mouth into my face, "You're sorry?! You're fucking sorry?! First ya tell me you're a fag, and then ya go an' call ME one too, and all you can say is you're sorry?! Ya know, I oughtta beat the livin' shit outta you, is what I oughtta do! I oughtta throw you outta my house and never see you again, is what I oughtta do!" He turned away with an attitude that said if he stayed in front of me he might lose control and hit me or something, grumbling, "Callin' me a fag. I oughtta show you what a fag really IS, boy!" He was already nearly to his bedroom door, the drinks forgotten. "I oughtta show you how much a fag I can be! GET the fuck in here!"

I jerked out of my frozen state and shakily walked to his room like a condemned man. I was so scared I couldn't think at all. I just knew I couldn't disobey him, and that I would have to deal with whatever he wanted to do to me. I feared him at this moment, but I also was still in love with him and couldn't imagine running away if he would let me stay. And no matter what he did to me, I knew I deserved it. I could take a beating, whatever he wanted to do.

I stood and trembled like a scared little kid just inside his bedroom door. He ripped his shirt off and struggled furiously with his belt buckle until he got it open. He suddenly froze, looked up and then lunged at me, making me cringe and cower away from him. He grabbed me by my hair and pulled me over to the edge of the bed. He snarled, "Get yer fuckin' clothes off, fag." I stood there crying with bowed head, shaking, unable to move. He yelled, "I SAID, get yer fuckin' clothes off, goddammit!"

I jerked to life and started taking my clothes off, barely able to work the buttons with trembling hands while he finished stripping. I kicked my boots off and somehow managed to get the rest of my clothes off as he stood naked, fuming at me, his cock getting hard in jerks and starts. When I was finished, he grabbed my hair again and shoved me down to my knees.

"You gonna whine `n cry like a woman, then SUCK it like a woman!"

I was so confused. I didn't think of sucking his dick as punishment, or proving a point, or even humiliation, but even though I wasn't turned on right then, I would never refuse to suck his dick. I grabbed for it and started to put it in my mouth, but he stopped me by slapping my forehead away. "No, fuck that shit. Here." He grabbed my hair again and jerked me over so I was half lying on the bed with my knees on the floor. He spit on my hole and stroked his cock to full hardness as he threatened, "Now yer gonna find out what it feels like to really be a faggot, boy. Now yer gonna find out!"

He aimed and shoved his big cock into my ass and I screamed at the top of my lungs. We had fucked like crazy earlier, so I was already pretty sore, but my hole had also tightened back up long before now, and he had done nothing to prepare me-- and I was feeling about as far away from horny as I could be. I was scared as hell of him and that made the pain even worse. I'd never felt pain like this in my life; even breaking my arm hadn't hurt nothing like this! I saw stars behind my clenched eyes. I cried and balled the sheets in my fists as I grunted and cried in agony when he shoved that horsecock of his almost all the way into me in one thrust.

He grabbed my hair and jerked my head back as he started pumping furiously in and out. I cried and grunted in pain with each impact, but I didn't say one word. I didn't beg him to stop or be gentle or anything. I just took it because I deserved whatever he did to me. It felt like he was tearing me up inside, he was so damn big, and even when he was fucking me in a good way, like earlier, it hurt pretty intensely up in that last inch or two his cock reached. While he slammed my ass, I wondered how I could have gotten so into feeling that painful depth of penetration before, why it had turned me on so much that his dick was so long it could go so far inside my body. I guess it was something in my head about giving myself to him that made that pain good somehow. But now, it was not at all good to feel him up in there. It just hurt like hell and I felt dirty and low. I hated myself and I just gave up.

"Now you know what it really feels like to be a faggot? Huh? Now you know? Still think I'm a faggot, little pussy boy?" He punctuated his words with brutal thrusts. The slapping of his groin against my ass echoed around the room and was even louder in my mind. I couldn't think much through the pain and violent jarring of my body each time he bottomed out, but I did wonder at how he had made sex a punishment.

"Still want me to be a fag for you? Huh?! Do ya? Huh?! ANSWER ME!"

I sobbed and choked out in a weak voice between sobs and grunts of pain, "I'm sorry, ungh!, Buck, I won't ever, ungh!, say anything, ungh!, again." I just stayed limp.

"Do ya like this? You like bein' a fag? This feel good?" he hissed through gritted teeth.

I was afraid to say how much it hurt, afraid most anything I said would piss him off more, and he already knew he was hurting me anyway, so I just meekly said, "Whatever you wanna do to me, Buck, it's ok."

My response seemed to take some of the steam out of his fury. He let go of my hair and shoved my face back down into the mattress. He slowed down and didn't slam as hard into me, was no longer knocking the breath out of me with each thrust.

I tried to muffle my sobs into the mattress and just endure the punishment. After a few more thrusts, he grunted and pushed on my shoulders to get me to move my whole body up onto the bed. He pulled out and I climbed up, hurting with every movement. I lay on my stomach, spread my legs wide and offered my aching ass to him, with tears running down my cheeks, my shoulders heaving with my sobs.

He climbed up and mounted me, shoving his cock in again, but he just stayed buried in me and lay down on my back. He didn't move at all. Then suddenly, he sighed and the tension went out of his body. He sank down heavily on me, still buried to the hilt inside.

After a bit, his hand came up and began caressing my wet right cheek. He kissed my left ear and sighed again. "Oh maaan. Oh maaaaan. What the fuck am I doing." It wasn't a question. He continued to hold still and I felt his cock begin to deflate. He kissed my ear again and whispered, "Oh Johnny." He pulled out of me and rolled off onto his back. He lay there sliently, breathing hard for a minute, then rolled onto his side, facing me. I still had my face buried in the sheets. I couldn't move a muscle. I was just too defeated and broken to move or feel anything. My sobs were small and pathetic and just residual, I think.

Buck reached over and ran the tops of his knuckles lightly over my cheek, gathering moisture. He sounded sad and guilty as he whispered, "Oh god, Johnny Ray, what the fuck did I just do? What the fuck have I done?"

I didn't raise my head, didn't answer him. I didn't have the words to describe what he had done to me, nor what I was feeling now. The closest I could come was, maybe, emptiness, a sad emptiness, a hollow kind of echo in my soul or something. I was pretty much numb, physically and emotionally, and a bit lightheaded because I wasn't getting much oxygen with my face buried in the sheets.

He reached out and turned me on my side as he pulled my limp body to face into his. He wrapped himself around me and held me tight. I felt his chest heaving and realized he was crying. He choked out, "Oh god, Johnny, oh god, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry; I'm so sorry." He kissed my cheek and forehead and hugged me tighter. I felt his tears fall on my cheek and my nose as he kissed around, mumbling between kisses, "I'm so sorry, Johnny Ray. Please, I'm so sorry I hurt you. I can't believe I did that to you. I just... I just lost my head and couldn't think straight and, oh my god, Johnny, I'm so sorry! My god, Johnny, my god, I can't believe I did that to you. Please, I'm so sorry, baby, so sorry..."

I clung to him and cried as he stroked my hair and kissed my temple. I couldn't hold it back. I wailed into his neck from the deepest part of me and shook so hard he had to nearly squeeze the breath out of me to contain me. He kept kissing my head and crying too.

"Johnny, please forgive me, please! I'm so sorry! I've never done anything like that before. I don't know what happened! I just lost my mind and I'm so sorry, baby, I'm so sorry! I can't believe I did that to you. I can't believe I hurt you and treated you like that. Please, baby, please forgive me. I'll never hurt you again, I promise."

I just cried like a baby and he held me for a long time, kissing my head and stroking my back reassuringly, mumbling apologies and asking forgiveness.

After I don't know how long, my sobs slowly died out, but Buck kept stroking my back, soothing my battered emotions.

He started softly saying things like, "You're so sweet, Johnny, so beautiful and so sweet. I don't wanna hurt you, ever again, baby. I'm so sorry."

I couldn't form words to respond. I just lay there in his arms and absorbed the comfort he was giving and the heat of his body into mine. At some point as he rambled, it sounded like he was thinking aloud more than talking to me, "We can't let this whole thing get outta hand, baby. We've gotta be careful and... We've gotta take things slow. We've gotta keep this on the down-low, Johnny. I don't wanna hurt you no more, baby, but ya just gotta keep this a secret, ok?"

I was confused. Was he saying he still wanted to have me? Was he admitting that he had some kind of feelings for me, that he was maybe bi? Was he thinking in terms of some kind of, like, relationship? On the down-low? That was what it sounded like, with the words he was using. But he had reacted so brutally to my suggestion that he might be gay I had figured that whatever we had going was over, that he was just holding me and being nice now to try and make up for the, rape. I still hadn't wrapped my mind around what he had done to me, not really. And the way he had apologized over and over had started me thinking that maybe I did not deserve it, that maybe he did not have the right to do that to me, and I was thinking that I would much rather he had beaten the shit out of me. That, I could accept and go on my way. This had made me want to die, I was so full of shame and regret. But the way he had so sincerely apologized so many times since then sucked a lot of the trauma out of my mind, but not enough to just forget it happened, or forget how it made me feel.

But as he said these things to me, the part of me that was so in love with him took back over and made me hear things that I wasn't even sure he was saying. I was hearing that he wanted something real with me, something more than just sex, even. My mind reeled with the possibilities, and my heart surged with hope, with renewed and even stronger love for him.

I made sounds of agreement and started kissing my way up his neck and under his jaw to his chin, tingling all over at the way his jaw was so strong and so male and how his Adam's apple turned me on so much. He stopped talking and tilted his head down to kiss me on the lips. I was getting those waves of warmth and love like I'd gotten earlier when we fucked in the living room, but in a more purely emotional way. I kept trying to tell myself that I was over-reacting, reading too much into his words, but he was kissing me with a passion like he'd never shown before.

I knew I was pathetic, but I didn't care. If he was willing to indulge me, I was willing to let myself believe there was more there than there probably was for me. I completely forgave him for everything and wanted to start over like nothing bad had ever happened. I had an erection and I pushed it into his groin. His flaccid but still full cock started responding immediately.

We ground sensually into each other and clung tightly as we kissed like lovers. When his hand roamed down to caress my ass, I moaned loudly on his tongue and arched my ass into his hand. He pulled away from the kiss and looked into my eyes with cautious intensity. "What're you doing, baby? You ain't askin' for it again, are you? After all that... You gotta be pretty sore and..."

I reached back and squeezed his hand on my cheek, pushing his finger toward my hole while I nibbled his chin. I said, "I don't care how sore it is. I need you in me now, cuz it's different now, cuz... I need you to do me good now, to like, erase the bad memory, make it good again." I almost said, `with love', but held that back. I kissed around some more and whispered, "Please? Make it good again?"

Buck sighed and kissed me tenderly. He slid off my lips and trailed kisses down my jaw, saying, "Ok baby, yeah, I'll make it good again." I felt his cock twitch urgently against mine and he pulled me tighter into him with his strong arms. He repeated, "I'll make it good again."

He rolled up between my legs and reached over for the lube. I pulled my knees to my chest and offered my ass to him once again. He smeared some lube on both of us and leaned down to kiss me as he pushed against my entrance. He brought both my hands down between my thighs and wrapped them around his cock.

He said, "You pull me in, Johnny. Pull me in however it makes you feel good."

I shuddered at holding his huge cock in my hands, feeling the broad head perched against my sore hole. Now that I was wanting it again, the size was wonderful to me, exciting. The hot, slippery column that I knew was about to go inside my body, that I knew was going to feel so good because it was Buck's cock, had me tingling with anticipation, had me forgetting that I was sore as hell in there.

I smiled pleadingly up at him and pulled on his shaft. He leaned down and kissed me, entering me slowly as I pulled on it. When he was about halfway in, I planted my hands on his hips and pulled him the rest of the way into me. It did still hurt, a lot. The tissues were raw and the muscles were very sore. The skin of his cock felt a bit like sandpaper at first, but as he started gently moving in and out, it smoothed out and the soreness gradually melted away. The pleasure came back, strong.

He whispered, "This how you like it, baby? This feel good to you?"

I moaned and answered, "Yes, Buck. It's wonderful. I need this." He was just rolling his hips, slowly working in and out, giving me the sweetest sensations. He hadn't been gentle and slow since the first time in his truck, and I was loving every little sensation, and especially the way he was kissing me while he gave me what I needed. We had never fucked face to face, always from behind, so getting to stare into his cobalt blue eyes and see this, tenderness-- that felt like love from him-- was... the most wonderful thing I had ever known in my life.

He would sink it in and hold there, grinding around and driving me up the wall, then start rolling into me again, hitting that sweet spot inside me and sending wave after wave of incredible pleasure through me. I stopped sucking his tongue long enough to whisper, "Make it good again, yeah, make it good again, Buck. Oh god, Buck, yes, do me." My fingers dug into his shoulders as I held onto him so tightly I was surprised he didn't tell me to lighten up. When he would hold his head up and look down at me, I would suck and lick on his forearm, pulling the hairs with my teeth and mumbling how good it was and how I wanted him to keep giving it to me just like that.

Feeling that thick pole of his sliding in and out of my body, hitting that spot in there every time, was making me fall apart. I mean, I was almost crying, it felt so amazingly good to me. My eyes rolled back in my head and it just thrashed from side to side as I squeezed and kneaded his arms and shoulders and begged him to keep giving this to me.

He came down to my ear and sucked on it, then whispered, "It's gonna be alright, baby. I'm makin' it good again for you." He nibbled around on my ear, pulled the lobe with his teeth, let it go and whispered, "Yeah, just let Buck make you feel good, baby, just give yourself to me and let me take you there."

I was a total virgin before I met Buck. The only sex I'd ever seen was between animals. The talk among my friends about sex was all about how good it felt to fuck a bitch so hard she couldn't walk right for a few days. A few of the movies I'd watched that were romances had shown a tender side to love, but I had never made the connection between what movie stars did in their stories and what real life people were like in Angel Hills-- maybe because those movies were all about straight couples. So I had no concept of tender lovemaking. I had thought that the aggressive, hard driving fucks I had gotten from Buck were the only way sex could be-- and I loved getting that from him, don't get me wrong-- but, this was so far above any of that, with him kissing me and showing such tenderness, that I felt like my whole understanding of the world was turning upside down.

What Buck did to me, what he made me feel, physically and emotionally... I had no words for it. I simply could not have imagined anything even remotely as amazing, as mindblowing as this. I shivered with sensations and feelings that overwhelmed me in his arms as he made love to me like he needed me, like he loved me with all his heart. I could tell he wasn't just doing this to make me feel better; he was getting into it just as much as I was. I begged him to never stop, never ever stop, just keep this going forever and ever.

I thought I was going to die, my climax was so earth shattering. No, I'm serious: I really thought my mind and body were about to short circuit and shut down, it was so powerful. Somewhere just before the climax, though neither of us could say anything very intelligible for that last few minutes as he lost control and pounded my ass and I screamed like Darla had and begged for more, I told him I loved him with everything I had. I don't know what words I used, but I told him and he didn't let it interrupt anything.

I had to say it. I had to express how he made me feel. I had told myself I wouldn't say it, `cause I knew he didn't want to hear it, but I couldn't help myself. When he collapsed on top of me, I held him so tightly that I got cramps in my thighs, but I wouldn't let go.

As he started getting his breath back, he made to pull his still mostly hard cock out. I clamped my arms and legs tightly around his back and whispered urgently, "No! Don't pull out! Please! Please, stay in there, please?" I kissed his neck and added, "I need you to stay in there for now, ok?"

He grunted, "Ok," as he drew in a deep breath and relaxed on top of me.

I hunkered my hips up into him and worked my raw, worn out ass muscles on his shaft for several long minutes as I kept mumbling mindlessly about him staying inside me and never taking it away. I tried to hold back, but I ended up crying again-- but this time it was because of the overwhelming joy he had made me feel. He knew that I was crying with happiness, so he wasn't concerned for me.

I choked out, "Sorry I'm crying like a girl again, Buck, but I... I just can't help it. I never even knew anyone could make me feel like this, like you just did."

He chuckled softly and nibbled my lower lip. Our eyes locked and he said, "Don't be sorry, baby, don't be sorry. I'm just happy I could make you feel all that. I'm glad I was able to..." I could see him almost not say it, "make it good again." He didn't want to bring it up again, but I guess he could tell that the good had so far outweighed the bad that it was ok to speak of it again. He knew I had accepted his apologies, or I wouldn't have instigated this, this, heaven on earth. That was how I was thinking of it now. Buck had taken me to heaven on earth.

I laughed giddily and said, "Oh god, did you ever! You made it better than I ever dreamed it could be, Buck. I'm so... I'm so..." I couldn't even finish, as I choked up again with tears of love and joy.

He smiled and kissed me again, then rolled off of me, letting his now soft cock slip out. I groaned my disappointment and he laughed as he stood. "Sorry, but I've gotta piss, bad. We could use a shower, too."

I jumped up at that invitation! Damn, my body ached, but I scampered into the bathroom with him and started getting the water hot while he let loose a heavy stream into the commode.

Soaping him up and washing him down was like a religious experinece for me. We had showered together several times before, including earlier tonight, but this time was like some dream sequence or something. At first, we traded the bar of soap back and forth and he caressed my body and massaged the soap in like I was doing to him, but gradually, it just became me doing it to him, like I was in a trance. He just stood there and let me, well, worship and love on his body. As I rinsed him down with the shower massager, I would lick and suck the water droplets off his skin and watch the muscles twitch and ripple as my lips and tongue passed over them. I got so into seeing every part of his body, close-up like that, that I lost all track of time. He turned the water off at some point and I hardly even noticed. I ended up on my knees, of course, making love to his entire groin and bringing him off all over my face and just a little into my mouth.

I can hardly describe the satisfaction, the feeling of, like, power, I felt when he collapsed to his knees in the tub after he came. He was drained and weak and gasping for breath and he held onto me to steady himself as I stood up and looked down at the results of what I had done.

He looked up at me and rasped out weakly, "Goddamn, Johnny Ray!" He grasped my forearm tighter and tried to pull himself to his feet, but couldn't. He had no strength left. My big strong cowboy couldn't even stand up. "How d'you DO that to me? I can't even move!" He chuckled and kissed my hip as I ran my fingers through his wet hair. "I'm gonna hafta sit here in the shower for a spell."

So I sat down in front of him. I took his hand and sucked on his fingers, beaming with pride that I could make him feel like this. He watched me make love to his hand and made a little whistle, shaking his head slowly back and forth. "Da-a-a-mn, Johnny Ray. Damn, boy! Where'd you learn to do what you do to me?"

I let his fingers slip out of my mouth and said, "I told you I was a virgin `fore I met you, Buck. I just do what... I guess it's just like... You make me wanna do things to you." I blushed a little and added, "I got more things I wanna try, too."

His eyebrows arched up and he grinned evilly. "Oh yeah? Like what?"

I blushed all the way and averted my eyes as I grinned too. "I can't talk about them! You'll just hafta find out when I do them."

He laughed and said, "Ok. You have my permission to try anything you want on me-- the more the better."

We slept in each other's arms that night and I had never felt so wonderful in my life. I was surprised I actually fell asleep. When he spooned up behind me and held me tight and kissed my neck and said, "Goodnight, baby." I just about cried again. I swear, I ain't no crybaby! But daaaamn, he just made my world turn.

Just before I fell asleep, as he snored softly into the back of my neck, I thought about when he hurt me earlier. I pictured it and remembered everything he'd said and how it all made me feel. Then I thought about everything he'd done since then, and all that hurt just faded away. He had way more than made up for it. Way more. I loved him so hard. I picked his hand up and kissed his knuckles and prayed to God that he really loved me back.


Somebody's Knockin' copyright Terri gibbs