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“Told you that you’d like it.”
Noah leaned over to ask what we were talking about, but he followed where my eyes were gazing and laughed. “Yeah. Welcome to the country, son.”
Damon was giggling up a storm beside me. “Yeah. Now you know.”
“Now, I know.”
The next event after the barrel races was one of the reasons we were there. Noah and Eli had promised their friend, and sometimes employee, Joel Barnes, that they’d show up for his big ride.
He was riding a bull, one of those big, nasty ones that in cartoons snorted pure flames and smoke. Joel was a small guy, skinny as a rail and barely reaching 5’7”, but he was getting on one of those things.
Eight seconds. He had to stay on the thing eight entire seconds, which didn’t seem like long, but eight seconds on the field of battle was an eternity, and I figured on the back of a bull, that was a lot like a battle.
“He’s second,” I heard Eli tell his partner and Dom as he scanned the program.
“Can’t always go by that, Eli,” Noah warned him. “Lots of changes can happen in the lineup, but I see him down there.”
I followed where Noah pointed and sure enough, there he was, leaning over the rail of a metal fence, staring out at the arena, cowboy hat back on his head, so he could better see. He was a sight.
Joel Barnes was a handsome thing, wore his dark beard in a goatee, and had deep emerald eyes that barely looked at Damon and me when he was near us at Noah’s ranch. I thought he was shy, but Eli told me differently. He was only shy until he got to know someone, then he was a bit brazen.
Brazen, I liked, hence being with Damon, who was as brazen as they came. I’d once seen him steal a submissive off a man twice his size, and with just the crazy smile on his handsome face, the guy walked away, empty-handed.
Not to say that was right, and Damon knew it, it was just that he didn’t care. He’d recently forgotten the decorum of clubs, being he itched, like I did, to have a sub of his own. Our own, I should say.
Damon and I loved the BDSM lifestyle, the leather, the fetish, the kink, like we drew breath each time we played. The thing was, we were both very dominant and very much Tops.
Our search had begun before we knew how much in love we truly were. We couldn’t help falling in love, really. We laughed easily together and sat in the quiet easily as well. I could count on him, which was big, in and of itself.
The only problem we had was that we didn’t want to play the role of submissive, even for a night. It wasn’t either of us. We could do it, and we had, but I could tell, when it was his turn, that he rather not be on his knees, and he could tell the same when it was my turn. We played with others, sure, as a lot of men like us did, and we loved it, but we loved coming home together, sleeping beside one another. The only thing missing was a regular, loved, submissive to join us in that bed, and in the playrooms in clubs.
When Joel was up, the four of us sat literally on the edge of that bleacher, Eli clutching at Noah, fearing for their friend. Damon and I were afraid for him too, but it was more than that for us. When we saw him in the shoot, trying to mount that big creature, he looked different than when we’d just seen him. He had on a helmet and thick vest, which Noah later explained was now encouraged for bull riders, for safety.
The shoot opened, and out they came, the bull not relishing having any part of that man, no matter that he didn’t weigh more than a couple sacks of grain, on his back. He tore around that dirt like he would sooner eat dynamite than have Joel riding him.
And Joel…one hand was firmly set under a rope that attached around the bull, the other rigidly high in the air, his body tight…but loose too. Now, if you’ve never seen a man riding a bull, it’s hard to explain. Joel’s body moved with the bull, almost like he anticipated every move the bull would make, and that was how he was loose, changing himself to accommodate the ride. Throughout, however, his lean little body was tight, and I could picture his muscles under those clothes and safety gear, each one stretched and taut in turn.
And my mouth filled with saliva, even as it tried to dry from hanging open as I watched. “Goddamn…” Damon growled beside me, so I knew his mind was right where mine was.
The bull's back legs kicked so high in the air, it looked like CGI, but it was real, and he twisted and turned in circles as Joel held tight to him. Those horns…when the bull’s head reared back, I was sure that Joel would propel right into one, impaling him, though the tips were blunted.
It was exciting, terrifying and anyone that could do that, well…they could handle a few smacks with a paddle.
I looked over at Damon for a second, seeing the dark lust in his eyes. He was thinking much the same, I’d imagine.
Joel didn’t quite make it to eight seconds, coming off one second before the buzzer sounded loudly in the arena. After landing hard on the dirt, he was right under that bull until he tucked and rolled away, and the bullfighters, as the announcer called them, were distracting the bull so Joel could get to safety.
Noah, Eli, and the two of us were on our feet, screaming and hollering for him, and once he was heading over to the stands, we all left our seats to meet him.
Helmet gone, hat back on his head, he swaggered as he met us around the ring. The shyness was no longer present in the young man, whose smile was bright on his dirty face, eyes shining with his accomplishment. Eli hugged him, and Noah shook his hand, but Damon and I held back a little like our awe of him made us the shy ones.
“Joel that was somethin’,” Noah told him with a smack on the back. “You were great.”
“Yes, you were,” Eli exclaimed.
Damon asked him, “Did you get hurt?”
“No, sir. I’m good to go,” he said with an exaggerated wink that took Damon and me off guard.
