Date: Fri, 18 Aug 2006 07:06:03 -0700
From: qwb <qwb@san.rr.com>
Subject: Stonegate Stables, chapter 13

>From Chapter 12 .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .

     By Wednesday, I felt pretty confidant that I could make
some positive changes in the way we did things that would
benefit everyone and liven things up a little.   Knowing I
could do whatever I wanted was very liberating.   William
had always agreed to my ideas, but I'd still had to run
things by him and get his approval.   Now, as sole owner, if
I wanted to, I could paint all the buildings pink, and make
Daisy Dukes and wife beaters the official Stonegate uniform,
but luckily for all of us, the stuff I wanted to do made a
lot more sense.

    I went home to Vincent that night content with life.


Stonegate Stables

Chapter 13

     William's memorial service was held on a hot morning at
graveside in a cemetery in town.  I knew a few of the large
crowd of people, but most were strangers to me, and I
realized that I had been a very small part of William's life
for a very short time, but a good part, I hoped.  I did
recognize a few other riders who must have come after me in
William's man-by-man conquest of the jumping world.  One or
two nodded to me, but we didn't speak and I sat through the
ceremony quietly, reflecting on my months with William.

     Martin had everyone back to William's city house for a
reception, at William's request, I'm sure.  He always liked
a party, even if he wasn't around to attend this one.  I
sipped an orange juice, chatted with a few people, and went
home, subdued, but not really sad any longer.  William had
enjoyed a good life and I hoped I could say the same when my
time came.

     Over the next few days, I became totally caught up in
getting ready for the first Gran Prix.  It had been my world
for a lot of years and I was excited to get another crack at
it, but I was also nervous as hell.  At 30, I was older than
most of the top riders, but I figured that made me smarter
too, or so I told myself whenever I got the panicky urge to
call Amanda and cancel. Vincent tried to keep me calmed
down, but he had never performed on a national level as I
had, and finally threw up his hands and suggested Valium if
I was going to act like a nut case until the damn horse show
came and went.  I snapped at him for referring to a Gran
Prix as a 'horse show', but he kissed me quickly and
distracted me by sticking his hand down my pants.

     Amanda sent me a DVD of Simon's last several rides and
the first time I watched it, something jumped out at me.
Amanda had two horses on the circuit this season.  They had
fancy registered names, but she always gave her top horses
barn names of fashion designers, so this season we had Donna
(Karan) and Calvin (Klein).  Donna was 3rd in points right
now, a nice Warmblood bay mare that tried hard and was
reliable.  Then there was Calvin. Amanda had picked him up
cheap at a dispersal auction in a fit of I'm not sure what.
Cal was a dark bay Thoroughbred/draft cross, big, strong,
and quick, but given to temper tantrums that made him a
question mark in the ring.  Still, Simon had him 6th in
points.  As I watched him take Cal around the arena, I
noticed that in between jumps, Calvin's head swung from one
side to the other, his ears waggling like crazy.  I had
ridden him a lot when Amanda first got him, and I had a few
ideas on how to get more out of him.

     I bought a few sets of show clothes and treated myself
to a new pair of Sergio Grasso boots.  Vincent's eyes
widened at the price tag, but they fit wonderfully and were
comfortable enough to wear all day.  I spent an extra couple
hours in the saddle every day, taking over the schooling of
most of the jumpers currently at the stable, and by the time
the Tuesday before the event rolled around, I was as ready
as I was going to get.  I had the skill, the desire, and the
smarts.  Now we just had to see if I had the luck.

     One morning I asked Vincent, "Can you get away for an
hour sometime today?  I'm going to ride a couple horses at
competition pace and thought you might like a taste of what
I'll be doing." He said he'd be there around 2, after the
lunch rush.

     The first horse was a bay gelding named Tinker because
his previous owner had told me he wasn't worth a 'tinker's
damn' as a hunter for his daughter.  Just as the Beemer
purred into the yard, I'd finished warming him up, and was
ready to go.  Several people heard that I was going to cut
loose, and our little bleachers were almost full.  I circled
Tink around one end of the arena and turned him toward the
first jump.

     We had set the ring up like Devon from a couple years
ago, 12 obstacles, big and challenging.  The first jump was
a vertical and Tinker sailed over it with a foot to spare.
He was a strong jumper, but not especially handy so I kept
my turns large and round.  He stuttered through 4A and B, an
oxer/oxer combination, but only knocked one rail down.  Six
was the water that he thought twice about, but I rode him
hard and he stretched over it, landing a couple inches past
the tape on the far side.  The biggest challenge on this
course is 10A, B and C, the oxer/vertical/oxer combination,
with two and three strides in between, respectively.  Only
two horses were clean the year this course was used.  We got
over the first spread, pulled up sufficiently to clear the
vertical, but then Tink didn't gear up quite enough to make
it over the second oxer; hanging a front leg in the far pole
and bringing it along with us.  He stumbled hard, but stayed
on his feet, and we finished the rest of the course without
incident.  Vincent rolled his eyes at me and shook his head,
but he was smiling.

     The next horse was a quick little jumper named Marvin,
the only horse of Frank Easton, a developer from Dallas who
came up on weekends to play country squire.  Frank couldn't
afford to campaign Marvin all over the country, but he did
well locally and made it to an occasional regional
qualifier.  Marvin was small, but jumped like a gazelle, and
he was great for practicing tight turns.  I had studied the
course closely and this go should be a lot more interesting
than Tinker's.  As we were in the air over the second jump,
I asked Marvin for a left lead and the instant we landed, I
tugged him hard between 8 and 9, cutting five strides off
the time it took to get to 3.  We took it at a tight angle
and galloped through 4, 5 and 6 before I had another
opportunity to cut some time.  I did the same sort of thing
and we were clean with a time twelve seconds quicker than
Tink's, and less than a second off the winning time at
Devon.  Those shortcuts are what it takes to win and I was
jazzed cause I thought I could probably do the same sort of
thing on Cal if we could make it into the jump off.

     Vincent was grinning at me when I came out of the ring.
"Jesus, that was exciting.  This horse was a lot faster than
the first one."  He looked at my smug expression.  "You look
pretty pleased with yourself."

     I shrugged.  "I think I have a chance.  A good one, if
I can keep Calvin's mind on his work."  He went back to the
restaurant and I finished the day in a pleasant glow.  At
least I was pretty sure now that I wouldn't totally
embarrass myself for riding, and Amanda for hiring me.

     That final week went by with several interesting
happenings. Martin called Monday to say that the transfer of
ownership was complete and that I was now the official owner
of Stonegate and all it entailed.  I blew out a long breath
when we hung up, then turned in surprise when Tommy,
Alejandro, Sam, and Teresa all burst through the door,
cheering and hugging me.  Teresa had answered the phone and
sweet talked Martin into telling her the reason for his
call.  They were thrilled for me and the burden of ownership
lightened a little as I remembered that I had all these good
people working for me; people I could count on.  I took them
all for lunch across the road and brought back a box of
gooey desserts from the deli for everyone else, calling a
short meeting in the office to give them the news.

     Vincent came home with a cluster of helium balloons
that said `congratulations' and a bottle of champagne that
we used to wash down the Chinese food he'd picked up.  I
knew he would someday own the restaurants, and I wondered
how our lives would change with the pressures of both of us
being sole proprietors of successful businesses.

     Tommy found me the next afternoon as I was packing up
my kit bag for the trip.  I was sorting out a pile of spurs
when he came into the tack room.  He looked a little nervous
and I eyed him curiously.  "What's up?"

     "Well, there's a guy here about a job."

     "Okay.  If it's a stable boy, you can talk to him, like
     usual.  I don't think we have anything else right now,

     do we?" "It's for a stable boy, but I think you should

     talk to him." "Why?"

   "Well, he works at Henderson's and wants out of there."

     I snorted.  "Good for him, he's got some brains, at
least. Hire him."


     "He wants to talk to you first."


  I finally turned to face him.  "Well, why the hell didn't
you say so?  Where is he?"

     Tommy sent the guy to my office.  He closed the door
behind him and just stood there watching me for a moment.
He was decent looking, sandy haired with a full beard, about
6 foot, with what looked like a good body in somewhat shabby
clothes.  I stood and walked around the desk to him.  "I'm
Sean Flanagan.  Tommy says you want to get out of
Henderson's.  How long have you been there?"

  "Three years.  Yeah, I don't want to work there any more.
They treat their horses bad."  He glanced around the office
quickly, and then met my eyes again.  "My name's Gabriel.
Gabe. I know about the horse."

     I looked at his face, trying to get a read on him.  Was
he blackmailing me with horse stealing?  Kind of late since
Sam had
it all straightened out with the court.  When I didn't
reply, he shifted his feet a little and spoke again.  "I was
in prison," he blurted out.  "I did 16 months for Grand
Theft Auto.  I've been out almost four years.  I work hard
and I know horses.  The prison was part of the BLM mustang
program."

     I absorbed all that in silence.  Henderson's hired ex-
cons; that wasn't much of a surprise.  Then I caught myself.
Not all cons were scum.  Jesus, I was as bad as every
straight person who assumed all gay men were perverts.  Just
cause the guy had fucked up and spent time in prison didn't
mean he was a total lost cause.  I looked at him more
closely.  He met my eyes steadily, but I could see he was a
little nervous.  I guessed I would be, too.

     The Bureau of Land Management rounded up wild mustangs
a few times a year and auctioned them off.  The ones who
didn't get bought were sold to dog food factories or given
to prisons.  The prisons broke, trained, and sold them,
using the profits to keep the program going.  It gave the
prisoners something worthwhile to do and gave the horses
another chance at life.  I looked back at Gabriel, who was
still watching me, waiting for my decision.
"You need to give notice?"

     He shook his head.  "Yesterday was my last day.  I
couldn't stand it any more so I quit.  I've enough saved up
to live for a while 'til I get another job."

     "See Tommy at 7 tomorrow morning."

     "Thanks.  I .  .  .  You won't be sorry."  I nodded at
him and he left.  I hoped my instincts were good.  I saw him
now and then over the next couple days, always with his eyes
on his job, doing all the grunt work that was traditionally
given to the FNGs.  Tommy reported that he showed up early
and worked until quitting time - so far, so good.

     Early the morning after Gabriel started, Danny came
rattling up the drive in his farrier's truck.  I'd seen him
around town several times since TJ had started doing our
horses and wondered what brought him out here at this hour.
He climbed out, jammed his hands in his pockets, and stood
looking around as I walked over to meet him.  He was a good
looking guy with dark hair, buzzed for summer, more muscled
than TJ, but not quite to Wade's level.  He wore his jeans
tight and always had a serious bulge in his crotch that I'd
been curious about for years.  He was a home town boy,
raised on a local ranch and probably hadn't been out of the
tri-county area three times in his life except to farrier
school.

     "Hey, bud, haven't seen you in a while.  How's the
shoeing business?"

     "Uh, good," he said, glancing away from me with a
distracted look on his face.  I watched him for a moment,
but he just stared off across the yard.

     "Something on your mind?"  I prompted him.

     "Yeah .  .  .  "  He damn near scuffed the toe of his
Ropers in the dirt and I started to smile.

     "Wanna go in the office and talk about it?"

     "Yeah.  Yeah, that'd be good."

     We walked silently to the far end of the big barn and
into my quiet office, where I closed the door behind us and
watched him work up to it.  He wandered around a bit,
finally coming to a halt near the table that held the best
of the trophies from my competitive days.  As he ran a
finger over the engraving on a big crystal bowl, he
muttered, "I need me a blow job."

     I simply blinked at him, sure that my ears were going
bad. I couldn't possibly have heard him correctly.  "Excuse
me?"

     He turned to look at me now.  "I'm thinkin' `bout
getting' married and I need me one good blow job afore I
do."

     "And you think I'm the person to ask about that?"

     "Well, I know you're gay.  You never made no effort to
hide it, so I figured .  .  .  "

     "You figured what?  That just because I'm queer, I'd
jump at the chance to suck your cock?  You ignorant asshole,
I oughta --"

     "No, no, I didn't mean it that way.  Sorry.  Fuck.
Becky don't give head worth a damn and I thought if I could
just once in my life get my dick sucked by somebody who
knows what the hell they're doing, I could maybe give her
some pointers."  He shook his head and started for the door.
"Sorry, just forget I was here."

     I grabbed his arm as he walked past me, swinging him
around to look him in the face.  "What makes you think I'd
be interested?"

     He studied my expression for a moment, gauging my mood.
"Well, I noticed you looking at my dick a fair bit whenever
I was out here doing your horses."

  He had me there.  And I thought I'd been so discreet.   I
tried to calm down and think about what he was asking.
"Stay here a minute."

  I walked outside, pulled out my cell, and dialed Vincent.
"You're not going to believe the offer I just got."  He was
chuckling after a couple sentences and by the time I was
finished, he was laughing hard.

  "Oh, God, that's great!" he gasped.  "Don't be pissed at
him.  Poor guy.  He sounds totally fucked to me.  Go do him,
quick.  He deserves one really good one, don't you think?
And you're just the man to give it to him.  I only wish I
was there to see his face, but you keep your dick in your
pants.  I'll take care of you tonight."

     He hung up still chuckling to himself and I walked back
in to Danny who turned to me.  "Look, Sean, I'm really
sorry.  I didn't mean --"

     "It's okay," I cut him off.  "I know what you meant.
You're gonna get your blow job, but on my conditions."  He
stared at me for a long moment; then nodded.

     "Come here.  Lean your ass against the desk and spread
your feet."  When he was set, I stepped between his boots,
put my hands on his shoulders, and looked into his face from
about eight inches away.  He flinched a little, but didn't
move, staring back at me, with both apprehension and
expectation on his face.  I'd had this particular fantasy
about Danny for years, so I was going
to make the most of it.

     I slid my hands down his chest, the firm blocks of his
pecs filling my palms.  He sucked in a breath and let it out
with a shudder when my thumbs slid over his nipples.  As my
hands traveled down the ridges of his stomach, his eyes
darkened and his lips parted slightly, but I figured kissing
was more than he'd bargained for so I left his mouth alone.
When I put a hand on his crotch, he jumped again and his
dick lurched against the confines of his jeans.  I pulled
his t-shirt out and flipped open the buttons of his 501s.
He wasn't wearing any shorts and the tip of his cock was
visible, dark red, wet and shiny, as I parted his fly and
pushed his jeans down.

     "My God, Danny!"  I looked up at him.  He had one of
those beer can dicks, average length, but really thick, and
his nuts were huge, tugging down the soft skin of his
scrotum with a weighty sway.

     "What?!?" He sounded panicky.

     "Your dick is amazing.  And your balls are huge."

     "Yeah, so?" he said defensively, looking down at the
items in question, now resting in my hands.

     "Relax.  That's a compliment.  They're great.  Really
hot."

     "Becky thinks it's all gross."

  I looked at him hard.  "Maybe you need to rethink Becky.
None of my business, but how can you be with someone who
thinks this is gross?"  I bent his dick down and let it slap
back up against his tight, hairy belly while my other hand
squeezed his balls, pulling a moan from him.

     Before he could think about it, I dropped to my knees
and wrapped my lips over the big mushroom head of his cock,
sucking gently.  His mouth dropped open in a groan that
twisted his face with pleasure and his hands closed around
the sides of my head, pulling me closer.  I let him bury
himself in my throat, and nuzzled my nose into his black,
untrimmed bush when I got there. He smelled great and I
inhaled deeply as he pushed into my face.

     He started fucking my mouth almost immediately and
probably could have come in a New York minute, but I wasn't
going to let him off the hook that easily.  Since he seemed
to think gay guys were the last word on cock sucking, I was
going to make damn sure he went away certain of it.

  I ran my hands up his belly under his shirt, through the
thick cushion of crispy black hair that tickled my wrists.
His nipples were hard now and I rolled them gently in my
fingertips, all the while dragging my mouth up and down his
thick cock in long, slow strokes, lingering at the top to
run my tongue over his slit.  Deep groans rumbled through
his body and his hands trembled slightly on my head.

     When he was once again thrusting into me, I dropped to
his nuts, sucking first one, then the other into my mouth
since they didn't both fit at once.  I pulled them aside and
licked as far back as I could reach, tickling just the edge
of his furry hole. His groan changed to a higher pitched
`ahhhhh' and he squatted slightly to give me better access.
I didn't think he could take much more so I got a finger
real wet, dropped my mouth back onto his cock, and touched
my slick finger to his pucker at the same
time I started sucking him hard.

     His head dropped back, his belly tightened up, and he
began to pump hard.  Just as I felt his nuts lift, I slid my
finger a little ways into his ass and jiggled it as he
started to shoot. The `ahhhhh' became a steady wail and I
swallowed repeatedly as his jerking cock blasted into the
back of my throat.  I kept my mouth on him, but eased off
the pressure as he slowed down.  He was shaking all over,
his knees banging into my arms as I knelt there massaging
his softening dick with my tongue.  I finally slid my mouth
slowly off him and sat back on my heels.  His eyes opened
slowly and I made sure he was watching me as I licked my
lips and smiled at him.

     "How was that?"  I asked, cocking an eyebrow at him.
He couldn't talk yet, but the expression on his face said it
all, just as Vincent had predicted.  His t-shirt was shoved
partway up his chest, his jeans were around his ankles, and
a blissful smile was widening his mouth.  I watched him for
a moment, thought 'fuck it', got to my feet, and kissed him.
He wasn't expecting it, but he was still floating on that
post-orgasmic high and he kissed me back.  That surprised
both of us and I broke the kiss before it could get too
serious.  While I figured he could rationalize a blow job
between buddies, he wouldn't be able to get his head around
kissing another man and I didn't want to lose him as a
friend.

  I turned away and straightened out my own throbbing cock
that was struggling to get past the low waistband of my
riding tights.  When I heard Danny move away from the desk,
I turned back to him.  "Well?"

     He stared at the floor for a long minute, then
swallowed and lifted his eyes to mine.  "I didn't know it
could be that good. I ain't never cum like that in my life."
He looked away and I realized what a difficult admission
that was for a good old redneck Texas boy.  I threw an arm
around his shoulder and aimed us toward the door.

     "Good luck," I called as he walked a not quite steady
path to his truck.  He lifted a hand to me as he drove out
of the yard, the ghost of a smile still on his mouth.  I
wondered how many years would go by 'til he didn't think of
me every single time he got blown.  If Becky was as
unskilled as he claimed, he'd probably always think of me.
I shook my head and walked around my office 'til my cock
calmed down, then went back to work.

     Vincent was fascinated by the whole episode and made me
recount it minute by minute that night over dinner.  He'd
never run across a cock like Danny's and had me describe it
in detail, right down to how it felt in my mouth.

   "Fat," I said, waggling my empty Dr. Pepper can at him.
"And muscular," I added, crushing the can in my fist.

     Vincent winced, then sighed wistfully.  "Well, if he
decides he needs another one, call me.  I'd love a chance at
that dick."

     "Don't hold your breath," I told him.  "He's thinking
about getting married to a woman who thinks his equipment is
disgusting."

     Vincent looked properly horrified at that and we
pondered for a while, the unfortunate things that people do
to themselves. When we went up to bed, Vincent insisted on
playing the part of Danny while I sucked his dick.  He got
to laughing so hard when I took only one nut at a time into
my mouth, that I started giggling, too.  Then we abandoned
play-acting for the real thing, which was much more
satisfying.

     My first GP was the Fidelity Jumper Classic in
Massachusetts; Vincent and I arrived on Thursday afternoon.
He was fascinated with the decked out show grounds and
wandered around while I checked in at the barn and worked
out a schedule with Amanda's head groom, Carlos.  Friday
morning, I rode both horses around the practice course.
Donna was as I remembered her, quiet and competent, but
lacking the fire I liked in a jumper.  Calvin was huge.  I
hadn't seen him in a while and he was all muscled out now
from months of competition, sleek and sassy, shifting
restlessly as Carlos gave me a leg up.  I warmed him up with
plenty of leg work, getting a few dressage moves out of him,
wanting him supple and listening to me.  It was early and
not too many people were around yet, so I tried out my
theory.

     Some horses get hot in the ring and begin to rush the
fences.  Others are easier to rate, cantering from jump to
jump in an orderly fashion.  Cal was neither.  He was always
ready to go, but not necessarily in the direction of the
next jump.  I had pulled an old set of blinders out of my
kit bag and fitted them onto his bridle before I mounted
him.  They restricted his line of sight to whatever I aimed
him at, blocking his distracting peripheral vision.  He
shook his head a few times, but didn't seem to mind too
much.  As I cantered him in figure 8s, he settled into the
job, steadying underneath me.

     I worked him for an hour, getting used to him again,
the way he moved, how quickly he could handle himself, then
I turned him into a jump line consisting of a wide water
jump, then five strides to a vertical.  This is a tough
combination because the horse needs speed to get cleanly
over the water, but maintain control to clear the vertical
without bringing down a bar.  I turned him loose to the
water and he pounded across the turf, clearing the 15' width
by two feet.  When I asked him to come back to me for the
vertical, he shook his head once quickly, then slowed two
strides from the jump and lifted over it with a foot to
spare, his legs tucked cleanly under him, ears forward,
looking like a horse who loved his job.  I left the ring
after that and winked at Carlos when he raised an eyebrow at
me.  I knew I was on to something.

     I rode both of them a couple more times Friday and
Saturday. Saturday afternoon was a charity event in which
Amanda had entered both horses.  I rode Donna to a
respectable 2nd place, but let Calvin do his usual thing and
ended up 9th with eight faults.  He bucked on the way out of
the arena, almost unseating me, and the crowd noise brought
back a quick memory of the day I'd been hurt.  On that day,
the crowd had been on its feet, silent, as I was plucked
from the wreckage of the jump and carted out of the arena on
a stretcher.  That was the last any of them had seen of me
until now, and several people came by the barn to say `Hi'
at the end of the day.  Vincent smiled and watched from a
chair by the tack room, getting up to shake hands now and
then when I introduced him to someone who mattered enough to
me to bother.

     A few society women brought their daughters by to see
if I was as eligible as I had looked in the ring.  I made a
point of introducing Vincent as my partner to these women,
with an arm around his shoulders.  It was a struggle to keep
a straight face as comprehension crossed their features,
followed by resignation, or disgust, depending on their
beliefs.  I'd never made any effort to hide my homosexuality
when I had been competing before,
but now that Vincent was in the picture, it was important to
me that people were clear about who and what I was.

     Adam came by and we made plans to hook up with him
after dinner.  We were all staying at the Sheraton, so that
evening we had a drink in the bar, then went up to my room,
talking about the various horses and riders entered in
tomorrow's event. Vincent gave me a long look when Adam was
taking a leak and I smiled back at him.  When Adam passed by
me on the way back to his chair, I grabbed his arm, pulling
him down onto the couch next to me.  "Wanna stay?"

     Vincent grinned at him from where he lounged on the
bed, and Adam slowly smiled at me.  I kissed him while I
tugged his shirt loose from his pants, unbuttoning it to run
my hands over his chest.  He was built a lot like me, same
height, just a few pounds lighter, and touching him was
eerily familiar sometimes. He pushed me back against the arm
of the couch, making short work of my belt and zipper,
kneeling between my legs to pull my dick free.  I was just
starting to get hard when he sucked me into his mouth, using
his tongue to circle the head of my cock, lapping at my
slit.  Vincent climbed off the bed and stripped, stroking
himself lightly as he watched Adam blow me.  When Vincent
shoved Adam's pants down to his knees I felt Adam slow a
little, then Adam's moan vibrated around my cock as Vincent
nibbled down his back, ending up in his ass.

     Normally Adam gives pretty good head, but he was so
distracted by Vincent's rim job that I finally slid out from
under him, letting him collapse face first into the cushion
with a long groan.  I knelt on the floor next to them and
took a dick in each hand, kissing the side of Vincent's face
where it pressed into Adam's ass.  I could see his mouth
widen in a smile when I stuck my tongue in his ear, and he
squinched his eyes shut, but he never slowed down on Adam.
After several minutes, we were all hard and dripping and
Vincent straightened up, flipped Adam over, and rubbed the
tip of his cock up and down the slick valley of his ass.  I
reached for Vincent's cock and guided him in, feeling the
slight resistance, stroking Vincent lightly as he sunk
deeper.

     As he began to thrust slowly, I swung a leg over Adam's
chest, ending up with his tongue in my ass and me facing
Vincent so we could kiss.  I grabbed Adam's dick and stroked
along with Vincent's movements, fondling his balls with my
other hand.  Adam was more with the program this time,
giving my ass a good workout, and Vincent was putting some
effort into kissing me.  I couldn't decide which end of
things felt best, so I quit thinking and just floated along
enjoying the tongue duet.

     As Vincent got close, he was breathing too hard to kiss
me, so I climbed off Adam and started sucking him, Vincent's
belly bumping the side of my face as he pumped.  They got
off about the same time and I stood up to shoot all over
Adam's stomach as Vincent ran his hand up my leg to hold my
balls.

     We couldn't all fit in the hotel shower so we sort of
staged our way through it, two of us in there at any one
time.  The bed was huge so we all piled in, Vincent in the
center, since he wiggled the least in his sleep.  I was
starting to get edgy and ended up on the couch about 3am,
staring out the window at the quiet city, a little hazy at
this hour of the morning.  I was so out of it that Vincent's
hand on my shoulder made me jump.

     "Hey, sweetheart.  Got the jitters?"

     I turned as he sat down behind me, curling up so my
head was in his lap.  He ran one hand through my hair while
the other rubbed my butt.  It was a soothing combination and
I began to relax.  He scooched down 'til we were mostly
horizontal and we dozed until morning.

     Adam was gone when we woke up, but he'd left a note
wishing me luck.  We had breakfast, dressed, and went out to
the show grounds in plenty of time for me to get the horses
warmed up and myself psyched to ride.  Amanda was there,
decked out in lots of diamonds and a huge hat.  She gave me
a big kiss, pinched my butt, and told me to ride my ass off.

     Vincent kissed me, too, then Carlos tossed me onto
Donna, and I was off to the warm-up ring.  Donna was the 3rd
horse to go with Calvin 12th so I had plenty of time to
change horses.  I cantered Donna slowly around, took a
couple jumps and waited for my turn, trying to keep my
breakfast down and deciding if I needed to pee one more
time.  Then the horse before me blew through jump 6, a huge
triple bar spread, and withdrew.  Suddenly the announcer was
saying my name, the gate was opening in front of me, and I
was entering the arena for my first competitive event in
seven years.

   I nodded to the judges' stand, circled Donna once, and
galloped through the starting cones.

     - - - - - - - - - - - -

  Warm thanks to David of Hope for commas and suggestions.

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