Love at Crow Cree

Love at Crow Creek

By: YodaandLumiere

"That's it, folks! It's a 90.25! Rhett Olsen wins it all again!" The announcer's voice rang out over the fairgrounds, his excitement contagious to the capacity crowd under the lights.

That was the night my life changed in every way. I'd been bull riding since I was six years old. As little kids, we started doing mutton bustin' and then moved up to mini cows. Eventually you'd get on small bulls. But in the world of professional bull riding, you rode monsters.

And I'd just qualified to move up to the big leagues. With that win under my belt, I'd gotten an invitation to attend the Top Pro Series Professional Bull Riding tour, which was an opportunity for me to score enough points to stay on tour.

Five riders from around the country would get these coveted invites to come on tour for the first five events of the new season. If you did well enough to land yourself in the top 45, you stayed on tour. Staying on tour meant winning money and money is what makes the world go around.

You don't have to win an event to win money, you just have to have one of the best scores in one or more rounds. Obviously, if you win several rounds in the same event, you're winning more money. And if you can win the whole event, you walk away with at least $25K.

This was the dream of every bull rider in the world. In January, I'd start the tour with the Pro Series and I would have to earn my spot, just like everyone else. I was going to be an eighteen year old rookie out in the real world for the first time ever.

My name is Rhett Olsen. My daddy and his daddy were bull riders in high school, but neither ever went beyond the local level. The whole family pinned their hopes and dreams on me when I started winning everything several years before I qualified for the PBR.

I had graduated high school in the summer and I rode that whole autumn until I'd won everything in the state and the region. My career was peaking at the exact right time.

I was eighteen and on the small side for the average world, but perfectly sized for bull riding. I was five foot, seven inches tall and I weighed a lean 140.

Small, lightweight bull riders had less mass to control during the ride. The big guys had to muscle their way through the full eight seconds. I merely had to balance and hold on for dear life. It's definitely way more complicated than that, but that's the general idea anyway.

Some of the giants of bull riding were five foot five inches and under. I'd dreamed of being one of those giants for as long as I could remember. I was equally excited and terrified about going on a national tour. I had worked so hard for it.

At the end of January in the new year, I boarded a plane for the first time in my life to head out on tour. My two best buddies drove me all the way into Billings to drop me off. Cody and Michael had been my constant companions my whole life.

Cody Waters lived on the ranch next to my grandparents ranch, which is where I'd lived most of my life. Michael Gomez had come to work with his dad, one of our farmhands, for the day when he was five or six. We hit it off and he came with his dad everyday in the summers after that.

The three of us went to school together and graduated together. We were always together. Leaving them behind was the hardest part of leaving.

Michael was dating a girl from school and getting serious about her. It wasn't uncommon for kids my age to get married right out of high school where I'm from. We assumed Michael and Hailey would be married within a year.

I hadn't really dated during high school. Between living and working on the family ranch and focusing on bull riding, I didn't have time for a social life outside my two buddies and going to school.

Cody worked his family's ranch, which was much larger than ours. He didn't really date much either, but the girls loved him. He could decide he wanted a girlfriend and he'd have ten to pick between, all lined up. It was almost too easy for him.

I had landed in New York and taken a car to the hotel in the city. Checking in scared the shit out of me. Luckily another rider was checking in next to me and I was able to mimic him and I got through it and finally got a key card. I had expected an actual key for some reason. I felt so naïve in the real world.

That first night, there was a meet and greet event in the hotel and I went mostly to make sure I didn't miss any important information. I felt like I was at a junior high school dance as I hugged the wall and stood alone in the shadows, watching everything with wide eyes.

"Hey, first time?" A voice said from beside me, startling me out of my thoughts. I turned to look and saw another young guy right beside me.

"Yeah, first time. You?" I asked.

"I was at three events last year as an alternate, but I'm ready to get on tour this year and stay on tour. I'm Bryan." He stuck out his hand.

"Hey, Bryan, I'm Rhett." I shook his hand.

"I'm from Oklahoma. I didn't know it was going to be this cold here." He said as he leaned back against the wall and looked out over the room.

"I'm from northern Montana. This seems pretty normal to me." I remarked about the weather.

"No wonder you don't look like you're uncomfortable. You can tell which guys are from the south just by looking at them. Look." He pointed to a group of guys standing around, laughing.

He was right. Some of them seemed relaxed and comfortable in the drafty room. And some stood with hunched shoulders and blue lips, with their hands shoved in their pockets. I nodded in agreement about his observation.

"Are you cold?" I asked him.

"Why, are you going to warm me up?" He replied calmly, still looking ahead.

My head snapped up at his reply. What did that mean? I wasn't going to fucking ask him though. Did he just come on to me? What the hell?

"I guess you can borrow my coat if you need it." I said, trying to act like nothing had happened.

"C'mon, let's walk around. I can introduce you to some of the guys." He stood away from the wall and looked at me expectantly.

I followed him around the room, meeting a few of the other riders and some of the crew members. Everyone seemed really nice and the excitement of the first event of the new year saturated the whole room.

They fed us well and I eventually went back to my room to get some sleep. Bryan mentioned he needed a travel buddy to share a room with at future events. Everyone shared rooms to split the costs, he explained.

It all came out of our own pockets. Hotel rooms, plane tickets, any other travel expenses, event entry fees. It could easily cost over a thousand dollars to ride in each and every event. That's why winning, even a single round, was so important. I needed the money and the exposure to hopefully get more sponsors to help pay my way.

Guys bankrupted themselves trying to make it in this sport. The odds were stacked against you, just like in most professional sports. But in bull riding, half your score is dependent on a mean, mad animal weighing up to 2,400 pounds! You could easily face a career ending injury every time you got on the back of a bull.

I agreed to bunk with Bryan at the next event. I didn't mention that I didn't know how I was even getting back home after this event. If I didn't win some money, I might have to call home and borrow some from Cody and Michael, which I didn't want to do.

Luckily I got a good score in the second round. It wasn't enough to get into the final round, but it was enough to get a check at the pay out window. It just covered my expenses for the weekend but there wasn't enough to buy a plane ticket.

I was milling around the medical and dressing rooms as everyone was packing up to head home when I heard my name being called by a deep, familiar voice. I turned to look and I felt my heart warm immediately.

There was Cash Harding, one of my daddy's dearest friends and a world class stock contractor. He was like an uncle to me. He crossed the room and gripped my hand while pulling me into a crushing man hug.

"Rhett, my boy! You did great in round two from what I hear!" He was his usual loud, jovial self.

"Yeah, I got a nice bull in that round. I got my first PBR check, though it's not quite enough to get home." I smiled as I chatted with him.

"You can catch a ride with Skip if you'd like. He's taking my bulls to the next event in Louisiana. It's not home, but it's where you'll need to be next weekend."

Skip was his stepson and the man who drove his rig and kept his bulls in top condition while on tour. It was a job for a skilled and determined kind of person. Skip was that in spades.

I did want to go home, but then I'd need to make those five hour trips back and forth to the airport and pay for another flight in just a few days. Maybe heading to Louisiana directly was my best bet.

"You think Skip won't mind if I tag along?" I asked.

"Hell no! He'll be glad for the company and for some help. He will put you to work, you know that already." He beamed at me. He was what my grandpa called a good ol' boy.

"I don't mind earning my way. Or getting to know your bulls a little better. Maybe they'll teach me their tricks." I joked back with him.

"Not my bulls! They're a secretive bunch." He smiled as he waved his hand to catch someone across the room's attention. I looked at who he was signaling and I saw Skip heading our way.

"Hey Cash. Rhett, good to see you kiddo!" He grabbed my hand and shook it hard.

"Rhett needs to get to Louisiana. He's going to ride with you. Make him earn his keep." Cash said and then walked away to chat up some of the others.

Skip turned to look at me. "You got your stuff packed up?"

"Yep, I only have two small bags and they're all packed." I answered Skip as I pointed to the bags on the floor behind me.

"Let's drop them in the truck and join the guys for some dinner down the street." He said and walked away. I quickly picked up my stuff and caught up to him.

I shoved my bags into the cab of the truck and followed Skip to a steakhouse tavern style restaurant that mimicked what we had back home as a regular restaurant, but with a New York city flair.

We sat at a big long table with a bunch of the riders and some other stock managers like Skip. I read the menu and nearly died when I saw the prices. You could feed a family of eight for a week back home for the price of one small steak!

Sensing my sticker shock, Skip leaned over and spoke close to my ear so no one else would hear. "Cash pays for all our food, get whatever you want. It goes on my expense report."

I nodded and smiled a silent thank you for not making me feel awkward in front of the more experienced guys. I decided on a steak that had better be good for that price. I wondered if the chef knew he had a table full of ranchers, cowboys and beef contractors to feed beef to.

After the food, which was pretty amazing, I followed Skip back to the hotel and into the room of one of the older cowboys. He'd been on tour for years and had passed the million dollar mark in career earnings last season.

The room was full of guys that didn't have to fly out tonight. Everyone was drinking and laughing as some country music washed over the room. I found a quiet corner on one of the couches and nursed a beer.

I was a lightweight, literally and figuratively. The last thing I needed to do was get trashed on three or four beers in front of the veterans. I was only eighteen and my mom was an alcoholic, so I didn't really drink. One beer would help me blend in and not cause me any issues.

An hour later a whole bunch of girls arrived and the hotel suite seemed bursting at the seams. The girls were bull riding groupies, or buckle bunnies, as many of the guys called them. They flirted and laughed too loudly while chatting up the more famous riders.

I saw Skip talking to a pretty redhead in a tiny skirt. She was very well endowed. I wondered if she had fake tits. No one back home got those kinds of surgeries, so I wasn't sure what fake tits really looked like. But this girl's boobs were huge and seemed to defy gravity.

Before I knew it, she was heading my way and Skip was giving me the thumbs up from behind her. Oh no! I don't want to talk to her! If I felt awkward before, I'd feel like an alien if I had to chat up a hot city girl with big fake boobs!

"Hey, your friend over there said you needed to be initiated into the real cowboy lifestyle." She said as she sat on the edge of the couch and angled herself towards me.

"Naw, I'm alright. Thanks though." I said and nodded and tipped my beer bottle to her, trying to dismiss her.

"He said you'd say that. I'm Gina. Sit back and relax, cowboy." She purred the words as she reached for my belt buckle.

My first instinct was to bolt. What was she doing? Then I thought about making an impression on everyone around me. I wanted them to think I was experienced and comfortable with chicks, so I forced myself to relax.

As my buckle came undone and she popped the button on my Wranglers, I scanned the activity in the rest of the room. I mostly wanted to make sure no one was watching us. I noticed several other guys with girls in their laps, kissing and touching each other.

On the bed I saw a girl riding one of the crew members. They were both fully dressed, but she was in a skirt and was clearly on his dick! I'd never seen people fuck in real life and not in the same room as a bunch of other people, that's for sure.

While I processed what I was seeing I realized Gina had gotten my zipper down and her hand was reaching for my cock. The whole situation with her and everything else going on in the room made me excited, so I was already quite hard.

I was so uncomfortable with the whole experience but my eighteen year old body was responding to the sex cloud that had covered the whole room in the last hour since the girls had arrived. My brain was scared but my dick was ready to go.

Gina gripped my shaft and carefully pulled it out of my pants. Before I could worry if the other guys were looking at and judging my manhood, Gina sucked the whole thing into her mouth and throat.

I'd never gotten a blow job before. I nearly screamed at the sensation of having my swollen cock in a hot, wet mouth and surrounded by her slick throat muscles. She started moving up and down, using her hands on my balls and the base of my hard-on.

I pulled my hat low over my brow and closed my eyes to block out the rest of the room and to imagine she was someone else sucking my dick.

I've had a poster of JB Mauney in my bedroom since I was ten. He was my favorite bull rider of all time. He was one of the very best riders and a two time World Champion. He was also gorgeous with the most seductive eyes I've ever seen.

On my poster they were so blue grey and heavily lidded, making him look sexy and ready to service me. I almost always imagined JB when I jerked off. He was my secret crush. No one knew that poster was my masturbation fodder. It was just an innocent picture of my favorite rider to the rest of the world.

No one knew I liked guys. No one. Not even Michael or Cody. I barely admitted to myself in the light of day. I gave into it when I was alone and I could take myself in hand and enter my fantasy life. But never any other time. Never ever.

My mind drifted back to reality and I felt my climax racing up to overtake me. I touched Gina's head and I told her I was close. She just grinned and sucked harder, moving her lips and hand on my shaft faster.

"Fuck!" I ground out through gritted teeth as she brought me to orgasm. She swallowed every drop and kept sucking like she wanted even more.

I finally shook my head to clear the haze of my first sexual experience and I pulled her away from my package. I tucked myself into my pants, but before I could zip up, she was on my lap and kissing me.

She tasted like my cum which I loved. I always tasted my jizz, imagining it was JB's or some other sexy cowboy's. It made kissing this girl easier, strangely. My mind never stopped thinking about the other people in the room and the impression I wanted to leave with them. I kissed her like I was into her. I wasn't.

A while later, a rather drunk Skip found me and led me back to the truck. The cab had a big bed and a good amount of space on the floor. Skip flopped across the bed and was snoring before I could even get my boots off. I made up a comfy sleeping space on the soft carpeted floor and quickly followed him into the darkness of sleep.

In the morning Skip and I got on the road. Once we got out of the city traffic we stopped at a truck stop and took hot showers and had some late breakfast at the diner. He paid for the meal and the showers on the company card again. That seemed to be how it was going to go.

The next several days included shoveling manure and feeding and watering the bulls in the trailer. The trailer was state of the art and nicer than my daddy's place back home. The bulls had climate control and a sound system amongst many other luxuries.

The best bulls in the business are worth up to a half a million dollars, so the pampering makes total sense to everyone in the industry. Hell, their sperm is sold by the vial for thousands to ranchers who want those genetics.

One bull on tour wouldn't drink water when he was taken off the ranch to go to events. His hauler started bringing several giant tanks full of hundreds of gallons of water from the home on the road just for that animal. It's seriously big business.

Besides the cowboy that wins a million dollars and the title of World Champion, the bull that has the best season also wins a title and a big fat bonus money check for a hundred thousand dollars. The bulls are world class athletes and they are treated as such.

Skip was good company, even when he prodded me about getting my dick sucked at my very first event. He assured me I'd have my pick of the buckle bunnies at all upcoming events, too. I just joked that he was jealous and changed the subject.

As the next few events passed, his words proved to be true. I had no problem attracting willing women. I just didn't want them. Instead my problem was finding ways to turn them down without outing myself.

I managed to get a bull ride at the second event and win a bit of money. Plus Skip gave me some cash, saying it was to pay for my extra hard work. It felt like a dad move though. He gave it to me as we checked into the hotel. He wanted me to be free to room with Bryan and go out with my peers without him and the company card. He and Cash, who was back in Montana, were very good to me.

Bryan and I did room together at the second and third events. We got along great, but we had different guys we hung out with. I'd made friends with a few other rookies and young guns, in their second and third seasons. Bryan and Skip hung out with some of the older cowboys, closer to their age.

At the fourth event I started rooming with another rookie, by the name of Nick Longleat. Bryan was cool about it and started sharing with one of his other buddies. Nick was friends with several people that worked behind the scenes on the medical team. We hung out with them all weekend.

There were several physical therapists and one trained medic in our crew that weekend. One of the therapists was a young lady that Nick was into. The other two were guys.

The medic was extremely hot and a new addition to my masturbation fantasies. His name was Keon and he was the first black guy I'd ever hung out with. There was one black family in my hometown, but the kids were way younger than me.

Keon was tall and muscular and the color of dark iced tea. His skin looked delicious. I wanted to lick him from head to toe. I also couldn't stop myself from thinking about what he might have in his pants. Was it true what they said? I thought about his dick constantly.