Date: Sat, 31 Jul 2004 22:06:25 -0500
From: Herb Cat <herb_cat@lycos.com>
Subject: Cowboy Song-2

Disclaimer: Do not continue reading if you are not 18 years old or you are
offended by portrayals of male to male sex or the laws in your state or
county forbid this type of material.

Copyright 2004 by the author. Do not reproduce or distribute this story
without the author's permission.

Names, characters, locations and incidents are fictional. Any resemblance
to actual events or locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely
coincidental.

A Cowboy's Song - Second Verse

Out here on the range where the sky never ends,
If you got any problems, you can count on yer friends,
Yer saddlemate partners, the buddies you ride with,
And eat with, and joke with, and bed down beside with.
Whatever you need when you're drivin a herd,
Don't matter if it's serious or jist plain absurd,
You can jist ask a cowboy, whatever it is,
And he'll kindly oblige you, as certain as piss.

Like some years ago now, at the end of a drive
We collects our pay and then, Sakes alive!
We wants to have us some fun so we heads
To the nearest town for some beers and some beds.
My buddy takes the horses, both his and mine,
And heads to the livery. I makes a beeline
For the nearest saloon, where I quickly surmise
That this town don't cotton to cowboy-type guys.
The sheriff, he cuffs me and takes me out back
Down a long dusty trail, past a rickety shack,
To a great big old oak, and he whispers to me
That this is what's called the cowboy hangin tree.
He was bigger than me, and talkin real tough
And I gulped as he unlocked one wrist from the cuff.
He ordered my arms up. Then for a lark
He told me to begin lickin the bark.
I was lickin and sweatin and peekin at him
As he cuffed my hands over the stump of a limb.
Keep lickin it boy! Then he pulled off my boots
And jist threw em there down on the roots.
On tippytoe, I could jist touch the ground.
As I'm lickin the tree, he reaches around
And opens my Levis and they drops to my feet
And he cinches the belt round my ankles. My meat
Was now lickin the tree. He took his big hand
And spanked my bare ass. Do you now understand
We don't  cater to cowboys? Yes, Sir, I say
And then that big old sheriff, he jist walks away!
I hangs there a-sweatin like it was high noon
But thank the good Lord, my partner soon
Shows up. This here's one hell of a town.
Now how the fuck are we goin to git yer ass down?
You's hung up like a carcass in that there oak tree
By the cuffs on yer hands and we don't the key!
Look, Buddy, I says, As strange as it sounds
There's somethin more urgent than gittin me down!
You see, that there sheriff was some muscular man
With biceps and triceps and all, understand?
His tight shirt barely covered those gigantic pecs
His butt and his thighs were jist oozin with sex!
A face like Adonis who tempted the Greeks
And a voice that jist melts me whenever he speaks.
The way he gave orders was so fuckin mysterious
And the smell of his musk made me fuckin delirious.
His face was the purtiest I'd ever seens
And you know what I thought when he pulled down my jeans!
But now here I am with my hands in the air
And the thing what needs them is a-dancin down there.
My partner he bent around me to see what I meant
And discovered my cock was as hard as seement!
It was stickin out straight and was leavin its mark
For puddles of precum were coatin the bark.
He could see my dilemma so went straight to work
And took both his hands and started to jerk.
He knew jist what I needed. He grabbed it. He seized it.
He wanked it, he spanked it, he choked it and squeezed it.
He pawed it and pumped it and stroked it real good,
He beat it like any true saddlemate would.
He knew when to go faster and when to back off.
But he knew more than anythin how I had to jack off.
He pulled at my bag, a-squeezin each stone,
And I felt like his muscular hands were my own.
He knew jist what to do for the guy is a chum
And I sprayed that old oak tree with gallons of cum.
And havin disposed of my sackful of jizz
We proceeded on to the next order of biz.
He lifted me off that old hangin tree
And pulled up my jeans and my boots and then we
Went back for our horses and the kindly black-
Smith got my cuffs off with one mighty whack.
We mounted our horses and galloped away
But you know what I think of to this very day:
That sheriff, the bastard, unfriendly, unkind,
But I can't git his body out of my mind!

Yep, out here on the range where the sky never ends,
If you got any problems, you can count on yer friends,
Yer saddlemate partners, the buddies you ride with,
And eat with, and joke with, and bed down beside with.
Whatever you need when you're drivin a herd,
Don't matter if it's serious or jist plain absurd,
You can jist ask a cowboy, whatever it is,
And he'll kindly oblige you, as certain as piss.

Note: If you enjoyed this cowboy tale in verse, and would like to see
further installments, let me know.