Date: Mon, 14 Jul 2008 18:15:51 -0500
From: fireflywatcher_ford <fireflywatcher@gmail.com>
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```.'