The Next Rodeo Queen

It never made sense to me when people joined a "fraternal organization." This is a club you join so that you can belong to a club. I know they do good things for the community and have events and things, but it seems easy enough just to make regular friends, doesn't it? Do you have to pay dues to hang out with people? Anyway, I worked with a guy who was an Elk, and one thing after another, we were standing at the bar of the local Elks Club having a beer on a Saturday night.

The folks there turned out to be pretty nice, normal people, and I made some new friends. The big excitement was that the rodeo was coming up in about a month and they were planning activities for it, a special dance and barbecue and other events. This was a pretty big Elks lodge, I was told, with over a thousand members; the bar looked like it could hold a couple hundred people but there were probably closer to fifty people there. A mediocre band was playing on an overly large stage and sometimes people would dance. They had a preference for oldies but the crowd was predominantly thirties and forties, I'd say. A couple of younger people, a few white-hairs. I did not see anybody with Fred Flintstone horn-hats on.

There was a clump of women at the end of the bar, yacking away. Several of them were pretty good looking and now and then some guy would go over and ask one to dance. Sometimes if one danced another would go out, too, and on Mustang Sally the whole bunch of them went out on the dancefloor, along with most of the rest of the crowd. These ladies were on the younger side and I wouldn't say "dressed to kill," but, you know, tight jeans, spaghetti straps, cleavage, three-inch heels, lipstick.

My buddy Jake was filling me in on the people at the bar. His wife was wandering in the crowd somewhere, so he was free to go into some detail. He talked about each one in the clump of ladies and said, "You see that one in the kind of silver top? Yeah that one. That's Eileen. She's running for rodeo queen this year."

I looked her over. "Well if it's a beauty contest, she has a chance," I said.

"Yeah," he said, "I don't know what you call it. Some years we have had real dogs for rodeo queen. It just depends on who people vote for. Last year Macy-Tee won. She's a good old gal but not much to look at. She just won because everybody knows her. I think some people felt sorry for her because she never wins."

"I see," I said, sipping my beer from the bottle. "And what about this one over here in the silver?"

"Huh," Jake said, looking around. "You might get a kick out of this. She is giving blow jobs."

The band was a little loud, and I leaned in. "What did you say?"

"I said she's giving blow jobs. For votes."

I looked over at the lady. Someone was telling a joke and she was listening raptly. "And how does that work?" I asked him.

"How do you fucking think it works?" Jake laughed. "She gives you a blow job and you vote for her. It's pure politics."

"Wow," I said, gaining respect for fraternal lodges. "How many guys has she blown?"

"Oh, none," Jake said with a smirk.

"No takers, huh?"

"None that will admit it. I bet she wins though."

"Did you get a blow job from her?"

Jake looked at me incredulously. "Are you kidding? I'm a married man."

I looked around the room. "It looks to me like most of these guys are married."

"Yeah," Jake said. "That's why she hasn't had any takers."

"Nobody will admit it, huh?" Jake looked away and did not say anything.

I let that sink in for a minute. If it was a private vote she would never know if you actually voted for her or not, so this was not a foolproof method. On the other hand, why not? Who the fuck cares who's rodeo queen? Also, I was pretty sure the women of the lodge would be voting one hundred fifty percent against her.

While we were talking, a guy in a plaid shirt walked over to the woman in silver and struck up a conversation. After about a minute the two of them headed off down the hall and turned up a flight of stairs. I don't think Jake noticed, or anyone else for that matter. Everybody was having a good time, chatting and dancing.

"What's up those stairs?" I asked Jake, pointing.

"Up there? Nothing. Some offices." Jake and another guy were arguing about a ref's call on the football game behind the bar. The guy on the other side of me starting asking me if I golf and I rattled off my usual quips about golf, which in fact is a game that bores the fuck out of me, and I do not play it. He was not discouraged, though, and we moved on to the weather. After five or ten minutes I saw the man in the plaid shirt come down the stairs and blend into the crowd, and a minute later the future rodeo queen came down. Everything was cool, none of it mattered, no one was keeping track.

The golf guy's wife was looking nice, and I complimented her and ended up dancing with her over the next hour or so. She was basically a plain woman but was emphasizing her breasts in the evening's outfit and also she did have a great ass. She tried to flirt with me but I was not that comfortable with it, being on unfamiliar turf. I didn't know what the Elks' norm for flirting was, and so I smiled and was polite but did not encourage the woman. She seemed pleased by it all and did not attach herself uncomfortably to me.

As the drinks flowed, the dance-floor started getting a little crowded, the pitch of conversation elevated, and I decided to look into this further. Eileen, the rodeo queen candidate in the silver top, was still laughing with the girls, so I went over and started a conversation with her. I introduced myself and said, "I have never been here before, seems like a nice place."

"Oh yeah," she said. She seemed confident and friendly. "These are great people. I'm here just about every Saturday."

Up close, Eileen was prettier than I had thought. I'd put her at mid-to-late twenties, slender and petite. She was wearing a wedding ring but I had not seen a husband hovering around. Her hair was layered like that one singer everybody likes, I forget the name, and she seemed like a very ordinary girl. I asked her to dance and we headed out to the floor for Brown-Eyed Girl.

"So what do you do?" I asked while we danced.

"Who me? I'm just a stay-at-home housewife," she said. "I help out around here a lot, getting the place ready and things like that."

"I see," I said.

"And I'm running for rodeo queen," she added.

"Oh, how does that work? I have never actually been to an Elks Club before."

"It's not a big deal, if you win you're in the rodeo parade and they put something in the newsletter. Also you preside over the car show, but, you know, that's nothing, you just hand them their trophies."

"Huh, cool, sounds like fun. What does it take to win?"

She gave me a look, like, wondering if I knew something already. She had never seen me before, of course. "Well people just have to vote for you," she said. "In two weeks they'll put out a ballot box and all the members can vote."

"I see."

"I think I have a chance of winning," she said with a pretty smile. "I have a pretty good campaign strategy."

"Oh, and what is that?" I asked.

"I am giving blow jobs for votes," she said while we danced.

I laughed. "Sounds like that would work."

"Oh yeah," she said, "I've had a lot of takers. You want one?"

"Want one what?"

"Do you want a blow job?"

As you can imagine, it kind of surprised me. "What -- right now?"

"Sure," she said.

"But I'm not a member, I can't vote for you."

"That doesn't matter," she said, "You're kind of cute. Come on, follow me."

She led me to the stairs and we headed up. I asked her, "Does anyone know you are doing this?"

"Oh hell yeah," she said with a laugh. "Everybody knows. It wouldn't work if nobody knew about it."

"And they are okay with this?"

"Some of those ugly old women down there do not like it one bit," she said. "But what are they going to do?"

We came to a row of doors and she used a key to open one. "My sister is the treasurer here," she said. "She lets me use her office." We went in and she flipped the bolt to lock the door from the inside. It was a small office, maybe twelve feet wide, with a gray metal desk and a wooden chair. Fluorescent lights. There were papers all over the desk, an American flag in the corner, and a framed glossy photograph of some guy who I figured was a monkety-monk of some sort in the Elks.

"I'm Eileen, by the way," she said, extending her hand to shake.

"I'm Joe."

"Good to meet you, Joe." She reached over to a bookshelf and pulled a little pillow down. "I gotta save my knees," she said. "I need a lot of votes. This is a big lodge." She tossed the pillow on the floor and knelt down on it. She crooked a finger at me and said, "Let's see what we got here."

I stepped toward her and she unbuckled my belt. I was wearing jeans and she unsnapped them and pulled them down, along with my underwear. My dick was a little shriveled up, given the fact that half a minute ago I was dancing in the middle of a crowd of Elks.

"I always like to clean them up first," she said, deftly pulling a wet-wipe from a dispenser on the desk. She grabbed it without looking. "You wouldn't believe some of these guys, yuck." She began wiping my balls first, lifting them to get underneath, and then ran the towelette up and down my shaft, which was not hard but was no longer shriveled. She tossed the hand-wipe into the trash can, again without looking.

Eileen had auburn hair and freckles. She was wearing a sort of metallic-looking top with puffy sleeves and designer jeans that fit her nicely. She had blue makeup on her eyes which I usually think of as "country," but she did not have an accent or anything.

"I love it when they're like this," she said, and without further adieu she took my mostly-limp penis in her mouth. She had some technique where her lips and her tongue seemed to work together like, I hate to say it, an old-fashioned pencil sharpener, going around and around my flesh in a constant motion. After a full minute of this she pulled her mouth off me and held my now-rigid cock in her hand. "I love it when they're like this, too," she said. She brought her hand up and pumped me a couple of times and smiled up at me. "This is a nice one," she said.

"It seems pretty average," I mumbled.

She studied it. "It has a nice shape." She pumped it a few more times. "I mean, you ought to see some of these guys. Some of the big ones are weird, they are a weird shape and they, uh, they don't work very well. Not my faves. Luckily there aren't many of those. This one is just about perfect. Also, thank you for taking a shower now and then." She laughed.

She gave me a couple of tugs with her hand and wrapped her lips around my shaft. She moaned hungrily and bobbed her head up and down on me at a medium pace, following her mouth with her hand. Pulling her head back, she looked at my cock and said again, "Yeah, nice."

She tilted her head and slouched down a little to lick my balls, holding my shaft up for better access. She sucked each testicle into her mouth, rolling it around and then releasing it gently. She licked up the sides of my scrotum to my shaft and ran her tongue along the bottom of it from the base toward the tip, pausing before she got to the head of it. She flipped her tongue against the underside of the crown of my cock, in the notch, sending a shock through me. I groaned and saw a smile curl the corners of her lips. "You like that, do you?" she said, and got back to work. She feathered her tongue along the flesh where the head of my cock connects to the shaft, teasing me. A drop of precum began to drip and she quickly licked it up with the tip of her tongue. "I promised my sister I wouldn't make a mess in here," she said.

Holding my shaft in place with her hand, she put her mouth over the head of my penis and used her lips to stimulate me, moving from side to side, front to back, over the crown. Sometimes she would take an inch of two of me into her mouth and suck, but she seemed to be in no hurry. She broadened her tongue and ran it over the head of my cock, sending me to the clouds. I was thinking: this is not how I had pictured the Elks Club.

Without warning she wrapped her lips around the head of my cock and lowered her head until my full length was down her throat. She bobbed up and down slowly, wrapping her lips around the base of my penis, fucking me deeply with her mouth. She came up for breath but only for a second before she stuffed my cock into her cheek and did something inside her mouth, I could not tell what. I watched the contour of her face change as my penis pressed against the inside of her cheek.

She held me up to examine her work and then took me deep again, using her lips to milk the base of my cock, squeezing and tugging with only her lips while she had my entire length down her throat. She then bobbed her head up off me, took a deep breath, and dived down again, deep-throating me with no sign of gagging or even discomfort. She must have done this ten times in a row, working me deep, the most intense feeling in the world.

She lifted her head and held my cock in her hand, looking at it. "Well," she said, "You look like you're about ready for me to finish you off, what do you think?"

"You've got my vote already," I said.

"Uh, Joe, you're not a member," she reminded me.

"Oh yeah," I laughed. "Well I would definitely vote for you if I could."

"No problem," she said. "I enjoy campaigning." She caught another drop of precum before it dripped onto the carpet, then looked up at me. "Okay, you ready?"

"Sure," I said.

She put her mouth over the head of my cock and brought her hand to the base of it. Slowly she lowered her head until she had about half of my length in her mouth. When she backed up to the tip, her hand following her mouth, applying some pressure with her fingers around me as she pumped. Then down again, about halfway -- the deep-throat stuff was just showing off, now she meant business -- with her hand going back to the base. Eileen had some way to make her lips unusually tight, creating a sort of vacuum seal, I guessed, as she methodically moved down on my shaft, and back up.

In two strokes I knew I was done. I could feel the internal sensations of an orgasm coming, the tightening, the shifting, the opening of the firehoses, and then in the most glorious kind of slow motion I experienced a torrent of semen flash-flooding through my body, shooting up from somewhere deep inside me to rush to my cock and out of my body in an incredible release. A huge shot of cum blasted into her hungry mouth, and then another, and another as she worked her throat to swallow it all. My consciousness began to go black, my vision tunneled, my legs got shaky. I was careful not to make any loud sounds though I was bellowing inside. After my last spasm she continued to fuck me with her mouth, getting every dawdling drop of cum that I was going to produce.

Pulling her mouth back she licked my tip one last time and looked up at me. "I hope you liked that," she said.

"It was amazing," I said, in a fog. "You really have some talent there."

"Well I try to be good at it," she said. "My husband taught me a lot. Also I get a lot of practice. Not just him but, you know. This is my thing, I guess, my purpose in life."

"Does your husband know about your campaign?" I asked her.

"Probably," she said. "He hasn't said anything. But everybody knows. It's not a secret."

"It sounds like you keep him happy, anyway."

She laughed, "Oh yeah. He isn't complaining. I don't think he wants to cause any trouble."

She was still holding my quickly deflating penis. "How many of these have you done for your campaign?" I asked her.

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe a hundred. No, I don't think so, maybe eighty or ninety. Some of these guys have come back for seconds, so it'd be hard to count."

"I see. Isn't this an unusual way to campaign, or does every candidate do this?"

"Oh no, I'm the only one. This was a completely original idea."

"Sounds like it's a popular idea," I said.

"Oh yeah, I ought to win it. Either way though, this is what I love doing. The rodeo queen thing was just an excuse for me."

"Well bless your heart," I said. "The world needs more girls like you."

She laughed. "That's what I keep saying. A few of my girlfriends out there are getting into it a little. But not during the campaign."

"Why not?" I asked.

"Because I do not need the competition, you know what I mean?" she said. "After the voting though, look out!"

"You're going to turn them loose, eh?"

"Oh yeah," she said. "There is a big membership campaign in the fall. They want us to recruit new members. My girlfriends and I will be more than willing to help them out with that. There's a prize for bringing in the most new people."

"I might have to join the Elks," I said.

"Well, if you want to volunteer to help us practice for the membership drive, just let me know."

"I would be glad to help out," I said.