The Watermelon Thief Chapters 7-11

by Culloden Cowboy <Cullodencowboy@starband.net>

THE WATERMELON THIEF Chapter 7

I could tell from the position of the sun that it was after 1, and the heat of the day was near it's peak. I wanted to get those melons off the ground. I doubted the weather forcasters call for rain, but now I noticed the clouds rolling in thicker, and also the chickens and pea_c_o_c_k_s were moving into the woods, They always do that in the early afternoon for their afternoon siesta, but the peafowl were beginning to fly up onto low perches, and they only do that at dark, if they are threatened by a predator, or bad weather is coming.

"Enough play; it's time to hustle and get something accomplished," I announced in a commanding voice. "Jeffery, you get your list, son and I'm gonna tell you what I want you to do."

"Yessir," he called as he headed to the truck. I started talking before he even got the door open.

"To do's." I called. "Get all those clothes off that fence except Jacks shorts, and put them in the truck."

"Yessir," he obediently answered.

"You don't need to answer me until I tell you to read that list back to me. Now you get rolling on writing this down, son so you don't miss anything," I said as he fumbled and dropped the pen twice and the notebook once before he even got it open. As he began to write, I continued. "You put on your drawers, socks, and boots. Then you go in and get another pair of drawers and socks for me, and put them in the truck. Then you haul all that picnic stuff back over to your house and put it away, and come straight back to that watermelon patch and you start loading those melons We've already cut into the back of my truck. Leave the gate unlocked. Jack and I will meet you there. Now read that list back to me, son."

"YESSIR, "he answered and he read it just as I had said it. I was truly impressed.

He stood looking at me for a few seconds, and I said," Well, DO IT, boy, or do I need to motivate your butt?"

"NOSIR! I'm doin' it, sir," he said as he started his chores.

"Let's go," I said to Jack as I motioned him toward the creek. He started walking, and I waited for him to get two steps ahead of me and just as I popped his ass with my hand he said "YESSIR!"

As we neared the creekbank, I reached out and placed the palm of my hand against his ass. He flinched slightly, but didn't break his stride. "That is one hot, blistered ass, son. Maybe you want to sit down in this creek and cool it down for a few minutes, and we can have a little chat?" I suggested.

"Yessir, that might be a good idea. My tail is on fire, Cowboy!" he admitted as he reached his hand back to touch his burning cheeks.

I pointed to a little shallow waterfall that had a place just wide enough for his butt to fit between two rocks, and he grimaced as he sat down and stretched his legs straight out in front of him. The rushing water swirled under his butt and up between his legs, floating his boybag and dick on its surface as it flowed on down the creek. He leaned back on his elbows, tilted hid head back, and closed his eyes. "I need to pee," he said softly.

"Let it run, son. I think the creek can handle it," I smiled at him. Without moving a muscle, the slit of his dickhead opened and a clear stream began to flow. Within seconds it was shooting a good two feet out in front of him, and seemed to be getting stronger. As I sat in the water next to him, I couldn't resist the urge, so I also began to unload a stream. "_d_a_m_n_, boy! You really had to go, didn't you?" I asked with a chuckle.

He opened his eyes and stared staright at my _c_o_c_k_ as he said, "Yessir, and I believe it must be catchin'!" I reached down and pushed the head of my dick a little to the left, so My stream hit his in midair, and we both sniled. He then reach down and aimed his a little higher, and squeezed down to increase the distance his would travel before landing in the running water.

His stream arced a good foot past mine, and as mine began to subside, I quickly shifted, and reaimed directly at his crotch, spraying his legs befor it fizzled into those last forced squirts.

He immediately splashed water on his legs to rinse them, but laughed at the same time. "I haven't done that in a long time." he said as he looked off into nowhere.

"What, son? Pissed on yourself?" I chided.

"Nosir, Pissed on somebody else, or at least WITH somebody else, you know, in a pissin' contest. I used to be pretty good at it. Sometimes I could even beat my Daddy, and he was......" his voice ended in abrupt silence.

"He was what, son?" I asked curiously, encouraging him on. "You can talk to me, son. I'm a real good listener, and very confidential. Nothing we say here goes anywhere but here." I said as I pointed to my heart.

"Yessir, I believe that. I ain't never talked to nobody about my Daddy, not really important stuff, anyway," he said as he looked off into nowhere again.

"Well, you can start talkin' now, boy, and I'll listen 'til you quit. I am sorta curious, and I was gonna ask you some questions anyway, so yoiu might as well go on and tell me all about 'im," I casually said as I moved behind him. "I'm just gonna show you a little trick I know while you talk, so you just relax, and I think I can help you're butt feel better."

I squatted down right behind him, and as he started talkin' I commenced to reach into the tunnel right uder his ass and dig some sand out with a fanning motion as the water washed it up under his nutsack and on down the creek. He looked down to watch the grains of sand, and I saw him shiver slightly at the sensation they made as they rushed up into his boycrack, brushing over his hole as they rushed past it. I knew that sensation well.

He started talking as I continued fanning the sand under his ass." Me and Daddy used to have pissin contests all the time, and he used to always win, by a bunch. He could piss further than anybody I ever knew, and he finally told me one day how he did it."

"He would drink a beer or two after lunch, and then he wouldn't go the the bathroom all day, so by the time he got home, he really needed to go. He'd come home and the first thing he'd do is take off his clothes, well everything but his underwear, and He'd tell me to take mine off too. My Mom worked late alot, and was out of town alot, so mostly it was just me and him and Jeffery, so we usually just wore our underpants. Daddy usually wore underpants, but me and Jeff, well we didn't wear nothing sometimes. We never wore nothin' after our baths, and lots of time Daddy didn't either."

"Well, anyway, my daddy would drink a beer or two, and then he'd wanna wrestle, or play football or somethin., so we'd all go outside in the back yard and we'd play and wrestle til we were all tired, and then he'd jump up and say 'WHAT TIME IS IT, BOYS?' and we'd hafta answer,'IT"S TIME TO PEE!' and then he'd put his hands on our shoulders, and we'd walk to the side of the house, next to old Miss Sims. She had a rose garden on the other side of our fence. We had a privacy fence that was around five feet high, and he used to say old lady Sims liked to tend her roses so she could look through the cracks in the fence and watch us, so we'd line up with our backs against our house, and we'd see who could come the closest to the fence. Well, Me and Jeffery would see who come come the closest, cause my daddy could nearly pee all the way over it! He was GOOD, I'm tellin' ya."

I was smiling at this boys story the whole time I was fannin' that sand up into his crack, and he was really enjoying himself, tellin', and gettin' fanned, too. I reached over and got a hand full of small pebbles and held them in the water to rinse the sand from them. Then I let them roll from my hand into the hole I had created by fanning the sand. As the water rushed into and out of the hole, it lifted those little pebbles and lightly pounded them up into his crack, and against his hole. The second handful did the trick, and he raised his ass a little and wiggled it before settling it back into the same spot, only now I saw his boyhole pucker, and then close, and then pucker again.

I reached down and tickled his hole with my finger as I leaned into him and asked into his ear,"That feel good, son?"

"Yessir, it sure does. But I think maybe I need to take a _s_h_i_t_," he admitted.

"Yep, it's like a natural laxative, ain't it, boy?" I smirked proudly. "It works _d_a_m_n_ near every time! You just raise that ass up off that perch, son, and let nature take it's course."

As he bent his knees and pulled himself into a squatting position, I showed him where to place his feet so he could have his ass just in the rushing water, and he immediately began a very smooth evacuation of his bowels. He was looking down between his feet as the first turd floated past them. His eyes followed it's rapid path over the flat rock in front of him, and as the water deepened into the creeksand, he spoke, "Look. FISH!"

"Yeah, those are mine. They're a special breed I imported and stocked this creek with. They're called '_s_h_i_t_EATERS'," I said. "Trained 'em myself!" and he nearly fell backwards laughing.

When he had settled down into a chuckle, he looked to both sides of him, and I asked, "Lookin' for this?" as I held my middle finger in front of his face, birdlike.

"NOSIR," he laughed. "I've got my own!" and he returned the gesture. "You just gonna sit there and watch?" he asked snidely. "Unless you need me to participate!" I returned.

He reached his hand back and his finger brushed against his crack lightly at first, then with more penetration as he cleaned his hole."You know, That's the first time. I mean, Ive never had _s_e_x_ with a man," I remained silent, and he didn't say anything else for a few minutes, but settled back into the creek. I then noticed that his dick was standing up toward his chin. I dropped another handful of pebbles into the hole behind him, and he moaned softly as he closed his eyes, and said,"feels, good."

He moved his hand to his crotch, and looking over his shoulder I could see that he had his _c_o_c_k_ gripped in his fist, just holding it with the deep purple head sticking up about three inches above the water. "So, did you ever beat your Dad?" I asked, breaking the silence. After a few seconds hesitation, I added, "At Pissin, I mean."

"Oh, Nosir, not at pissin I didn't, but I came real close after he taught me how. See, one day we were lined up. As usual, me and Jeff were a few steps in front of daddy, and he just still always outshot us by a mile, and I happened to look back, and my daddy had this huge, hardon that looked like it was gonna bust, and it was standin' nearly straight up. Then he explained that if your dick was hard, and you squeezed it closed while you tried to pee, then released it, it would shoot a long way."

"Well, I asked him how he got it so hard and he said he reckoned that wrestlin' and all with us boys built up his testosterone and his dick got hard. Then I told him it didn't get mine hard, and he said he knew what would though, and he reminded me that everytime he spanked me over his thigh, I got rock-hard, and sometimes I came while he spanked me. I knew he knew that, but he'd never said nothin' about it. Jeff did the same thing, only he didn't cum cause I guess he wasn't old enough yet, but I sure did."

"So anyway, it got to where we'd play, and wrestle, and I'd end up ridin' his leg while he spanked me. He always held my dick with one hand and spanked me with the other one, and I was always hard, so he'd stop and then we'd pee, and he was right! I could pee ten times further when my dick was hard, especially if he had his hand on my butt while I peed. That was the BEST! He'd hold my butt cheeks with one hand, and tickle my hole with his fingers and I could pee a long way!"

"Then, he started spankin' me and Jeff together, and we'd all stand there and I'd rub Jeff's butt while Daddy rubbed mine, and we'd just pee, and have a great time. After we learned that trick, Daddy got to callin' it 'WATERIN THE ROSES', cause me and him could both pee up over the fence into old lady Sim's rose garden, and sometimes Daddy would hold Jeff up and blow raspberries on his butt while he peed over the fence, too, and that's when she caught us, that day. And BOY, was SHE pissed. She called the sheriff, and a deputy came over, and me and Jeff said we did it, and My daddy spanked us both right there in front of that deputy, and he just laughed the whole time. I was scared. That's the only time I didn't get hard when my daddy spanked me, but I had my jeans on, and he wasn't holding me in place like he always did either, but after that deputy left, we sneaked out in the yard again, and then my daddy taught me and Jeff about circle jerks. After that, we spent lots of time out there watering those roses and fertilizin' that old ladies garden. Jeff would water, and me and Daddy would fertilize. Boy did we have some great times. Now THAT'S the contest I could win. I could shoot my wad a lot further than Daddy. He could out pee me, but he never could outshoot me."

"Well, son, I guess it's about time for us to head on up the hill. Your brother's likely got those watermelons nearly loaded up by noow, and your family will be home soon." I said as I stood and held out my hand to pull Jack up.

"Yesir, I sure have had a good time today, Cowboy, he said as we climbed the bank. "I'd appreciate your not sayin' nothin' to Jeff about none of this. He's just now gettin' to where he jokes and laughs like he used to. He took Daddy's death real hard, and I was really worried for a spell that he might not ever get over it. He won't talk about it to anybody, and I know for a fact that talkin' helps heal those wounds. I sure do feel like a world has been lifted off me today. Thanks. Maybe, if you sorta moved the conversation in that direction he could open up to you, that is, if you think it might be O K, SIR."

" I'll do what I can, son. I can't promise anybody anything, except that I am here, and willin' to listen without makin judgements," I said, and noticed Jack sorta lookin' down at the ground, sadly. "I can tell you this much though. That boys whole life is right there inside his heart. You get in there, and he's a wide open book."

"Yessir, I believe you're right about that, and I also believe if anybody can get in there, it's you, Cowboy."

"Anybody can get in, son, if he decides to let 'em. I can only let him into mine, and hope he see's how good it is."

"He's been hurt like that though. He loved my Daddy with all his heart, and when Daddy died it broke. He's had his heart broken twice, and he's real hard about openin' it up again."

"Yeah, I've had my heart broken, too, and I always remember somethin' Rod Mckuen said in a poem. he said,'IT'S GOOD TO OPEN UP YOUR HEART AND LET A LITTLE HURT COME IN. IT PROVES YOU'RE STILL ALIVE.' Well you can be sure of this, that boy is definitely still alive, so I'd say there's a good chance he's already on the mend, son. Don't you worry. He'll be fine. And so will you, boy. So will you. I'll see to that."

And that boy Jack turned to me and fell into my arms crying like a baby, and I cried with 'im as he hugged me so tight I could hardly breathe.

That one hug made my whole 50 years of life worthwhile. _d_a_m_n_, I DO LOVE boys!

THE WATERMELON THIEF Chapter 8

As Jack turned and headed off toward the watermelon patch, I lingered on the creek bank, nearly swooning in admiration as I watched him go. I softly chuckled to myself as I saw him reach back and feel his butt. Whether he was attempting to rub the sting away, or merely testing it for heat was insignificant. The fact that he was CONSCIOUS that it was there seemed to be exactly what he needed.

Perhaps that is exactly how I was to fit into these boys lives. I guess that's what I meant when I told Jack that I'd look after him and Jeffery, although I was merely trying to comfort him at the time, I certainly also intended to do whatever I could to help them. I just didn't realize what that might actually be until this moment. Maybe the way to these boys hearts is NOT through their stomachs, but rather through their butts.

I approached the watermelon patch just as Jack and Jeffery were lifting melons to carry to the truck. Over half of them were already laying in the bed, and the ones they were adding now would start a second layer. As they carried the watermelons and carefully laid them in the truck, I noticed how very similar these two brothers were.

They were about the same height. Jack was slightly heavier, with more developed muscles than his younger brother. Jack also had more hair on his body, and it was dark brown where Jefferies varied from blond to strawberry red. Their complexions matched their hair color, too. Jeffery was fair and freckled while Jack's skin was more olive and even coffee colored where it was tanned by the sun.

The things that I noticed that were obvious genetic traits they both shared were the things I was captivated with the most. First, the dimples in their cheeks, ALL their cheeks, were almost identical. Second, their dicks were exactly the same size and shape, about six inches long, and slender with arrow shaped heads. They even both had a slight curve to the right when erect, and both boys had hairless balls that hung close under their sacks, each left nut slightly lower than the right. They were both real easy on the eyes.

"You boys are doing a great job," I complemented as I neared the boys. "Another few trips and all those watermelons are gonna be loaded. You keep it up, and I gonna go check the campsite out. It's gonna rain soon, and I wanna be sure everything's put up so it doesn't get wet. Blow the horn when you're finished loadin'."

"YESSIR," they replied in unison. That was another genetic thing they shared. Their voices together sounded almost as one.

I knew Jack wanted to get home soon, and I hoped we could get these watermelons to town before the rain, but that seemed doubtful now. The sky was already dark, and the breeze that had picked up felt cool. I hurried to get the campsite weatherproofed, and covered the firewood with a tarp. Just as I climbed onto the gator, I heard the horn blow. I started the gator up, and headed for the watermelon patch.

I started givin' orders as I drove up to the boys by the tailgate of my truck. "Jack, you put your shorts on and ride this thing home before it rains, son. Jeffery, you get out of those wet drawers, boy, and put on a pair of those boxers I told you to bring."

Again, two voices sounded as one with their simultaneous responses of "YESSIR."

Jeffery reached into the cab and handed Jack his shorts, and then both boys bent over at the same time, Jack to step into his, Jeffery to step out of his.

_d_a_m_n_ed if they didn't look almost identical from this angle, their bare asses sticking out, their boysacks snuggled up against the bases of their dicks. I DID notice one major difference, though. Jack's butt was a solid cherry-red color, while Jefferies was more pink and white, with darker freckles scattered over it.

I smiled to myself as I thought, 'I'll fix that. After Jeffery has his ride on my thigh tonight, his ass will be every bit as red as Jack's.'

A roll of thunder in the distance brought me out of my transe in time to see Jack mount the gator seat, and immediately spring back up as if he'd sat down on hot coals. He looked at me and weakly smiled as he said, "I think I'll just stand up."

"I would!" said Jeffery with a grin.

"You WILL, son. I PROMISE you that!" I chimed in. "You ride with Jack to the gate, and lock it behind him, and then you hurry your ass back here, son."

"Yessir." he replied, still smiling. I guess that was a good sign. I began to believe this boy was lookin' forward to the ass whippin' I had promised him

"Cowboy," Jack said as Jeffery climbed onto the back of the seat, and sat down right behind his brother with his crotch plastered against Jacks hot, red butt. "We're supposed to bring the girls swimming tomorrow, but if you don't mind, I think I'll pass. I don't think my butt's gonna be in any shape to be playing 'Daddy Horse' with 'em."

"That's fine," I answered. "But you aren't gonna disappoint those little girls. You make your excuses to Karen, and tell her to bring the girls. The gate'll be open at noon. You tell her I said to make herself at home. Me and Jeffery are goin' into town to take these watermelons, but we should be back by then. I hope we can get the rest of 'em loaded up tomorrow, and if we do, that'll free up the afternoon for us and maybe we can join 'em."

"Thanks, Cowboy. I'll tell her," said Jack, as he started the engine and headed off for home. Just as I heard the engine slow as they approached the gate, a streak of lightening popped somewhere close-by, and then I felt the first drops of rain.

I climbed into the truck, and rolled up the windows. Within 30 seconds it was pouring down so hard I couldn't see out of the windshield, so I started the engine and turned on the wipers. Within a minute the passenger door swung open and a very wet Jeffery hopped onto the seat, slamming the door behind him.

"_d_a_m_n_, boy. You look like a drowned rat!" I said as I reached for a towel to hand him.

"Yessir, I know. It's rainin'!" he stated, observantly.

"And those shorts are soaked, and you haven't had 'em on for five minutes yet!" I added, as I smiled at him. He dried his face and head and looked over at me and asked, "we gonna take these watermelons now?"

"No, son. We're gonna wait 'til tomorrow mornin'. Hopefully the rain'll be over by then. Right now we're goin' to the campsite and get settled in. I don't think we can do anything else here now," I said as I turned off the engine, opened the door and started to get out.

"We're not ridin'?" he asked.

"Not in this rain," I stated. "This truck'll get stuck sure as hell if I try to drive it out from that mudhole that's gonna develop with this rain."

"Oh, Yeah," he said in a voice of innocent realization that only a boy has.

"You grab two towels and your list and let's go," I said as I got out.

"Yessir," he answered, and then he added as he slammed the door, "LAST ONE THERE GETS HIS ASS BLISTERED!" and he wrapped the notebook in the towels, tucked them under his arm like a football, and took off running . He disappeared around the curve up ahead before I started trotting. I was in no real hurry, and I knew if I tried to run up that hill, I'd likely fall and get muddy, so I just loped at a nice pace until the campsite came into view. I expected to see him huddled under the tarp I had stretched over the firepit, but he was not within sight.

Just as I trotted past the fallen oaktree, he jumped from behind it and yelled "BOO!" I continued until I got to the tarp and ducked under it as he trotted into the clearing. "I got here first!" I sang out smiling as he ducked under the tarp. He stopped next to me, and unrolled the towels and laid them over the seat of my chair as he opened the notebook.

"Yessir," he said, smiling up at me as he turned to his STARS and STRIPES list. Does that mean a stripe, sir?" he asked, still smiling.

"No, son, but it DOES mean you were the last one here, and you know what THAT means, don't you?" I smirked at him as I picked up a towel and sat down on the other one.

"YESSIR. It means I'm gonna get my butt blistered," he answered almost casually, still smiling. "That's right, boy! You sure are!" I said as I dried myself with the towel, then tossed it to him. "Now you get those shorts off and hang 'em on that limb so they'll dry out. You ain't gonna need 'em 'til tomorrow anyway."

"YESSIR, Cowboy SIR!" he said sternly, and saluted. Then he bent over and slid the wet boxers to his knees, stood straight up, looked straight ahead stiffly, and almost robot-like, he stepped out of them, one foot, then the other, letting them slip to the ground.

"BOY!" I yelled. "Pick those shorts up and hang 'em up, and then you add another stripe to that list of yours. NOW!"

"Yessir, yessir, yessir, yessir, yessir, yessir, yessir," he continued to repeat as he hung them up and turned back to me, standing with his hands clasped behind his back. "STRIPES, BOY! I screamed at him. "NOW!"

"YESIR!" he yelled as he jumped to get the list, losing the smile in the process. He held it up, pen ready to write and looked at me.

"Read 'em!" I said.

"ONE, Yessir," he read, then looked up at me again, and paused.

"TWO," I said, and he wrote. "Droppin' my shorts in the dirt."

"Yessir." he said, indicating he was finished.

"THREE" I said, and he glanced up before he wrote. "Insolence."

"I N S O L E N C E" he spelled as he wrote.

"Now, get my belt, son. I'm gonna blister that ass good," I said in a threatening tone. "Yessir," he answered as he turned and ran to the tent.

It was still raining steady, but not really the downpour we had as we ran up here. I picked up the wet towel, and as he ducked back under the tarp, I ducked out and said, "Come on." He followed me to the old oak, and I laid the towel over it, turned to him, took my belt, and told him, "You bend over that tree, boy, and put the palms of your hands flat on the ground, and I don't want to hear you say another thing until I tell you to, Not even a yessir!"

As he followed my instructions, I moved around to the side of the tree where his hands were placed on the ground. I reached out and placed my hand on the back of his neck and pushed his head down until his chin came to rest against the towel hanging down over the tree. This caused him to roll slightly forward, and he raised his feet and spread them apart trying to keep his balance . I stepped up to his head, and then I stepped over his arms and straddled his neck, and lowered my nuts til they came to rest between his shoulder blades. "Now you reach up and hold onto my ass with your hands, son," I said as I laid the belt down on his back and reached for his calves with my hands, leaning slightly forward. I felt his hands cup my ass cheeks, and then I said,"Now straighten you legs son, but keep 'em spread apart."

I lifted the belt, folded it in half, and just as his legs stretched straight out I raised it over my head and slammed it down right into his crack

"PLOP!"

I felt his hands tighten their grip on my ass as he bent his knees and his feet flew up, nearly hittin' his cheeks in a effort to ease the sting. "You keep those legs straight and spread, son, or I'll tie 'em down!" I said loudly as I let another lick fall into his crack

"PLOP!"

His legs flew down with such force that his head raised me nearly off the ground before he settled into position again, forced back by gravity. His hands slid from my ass and he locked his arms around my thighs, his palms against the insides of my thighs. As I felt him relax, I said, "That's fine, son. You just keep your hands where they are now if that helps keep your legs where THEY are. Then I popped his ass again.

"PLOP!"

This time he rocked slightly, and grunted, but his hands held firm and his legs stayed straight.

"Good, boy. Now you say 'YESSIR' every time my belt lays a stripe on that sweet ass of yours, son, and that's all I want to hear from you! Is that CLEAR?" I asked as I fired his ass up with another stinging stripe.

"PLOP!"

"YESSIR!" he yelled, and I felt him tighten his grip on my legs, as he rocked again.

My _c_o_c_k_ was beginning to swell from the pressure his neck was applying on that special area I call the 'tween. That's the lower part of my _c_o_c_k_ that swells between my nuts and my asshole. The rocking motion, and the sound of my leather belt burning stripes into his rain-soaked boybutt, and the view I had from my position, all made for an inevitable COWBOY HARDON, and I was gonna do everything I could to intensify it into a grand finale that would rival the Boston July 4th fireworks.

"PLOP!"

"YESSIR"

"PLOP!"

"YESSIR"

"PLOP!"

"YES SIRR!!"

"PLOP"

"YEESSS SIIIRRRR!!!"

"PLOP!"

"OOOOOH YEEEEESSSSSSSSIIIIIIIIIIIIRR!!!!!"

And I rode that boys neck as he rocked to the rhythm of my belt burning MY brand into hiss ass.

He screamed and rocked and I rode him hot and hard, and I shot my COWBOY wad over his back onto his ass with such force that he grunted. Then I felt his body tense as his dick unloaded into the tree he was hunching against.

I leaned forward, and licked his crack with my tongue, and he cringed. "That hurt, son?" I asked.

"Nosir, but your moustache tickles, sir." he replied. "And I need to fart, sir." he added with a snicker.

I raised my head and looked down at that sweet, red ass of his, and I said, "You give me your best shot, boy." Then I leaned down and buried my nose in that sweet smell of success!

Yessiree, I do LOVE boys.

......MY WAY....... ................The "COWBOY WAY!"........

THE WATERMELON THIEF Chapter 9

The rain had subsided, and now a fine mist hung in the air like a heavy fog, not moving up or down, but instead, collecting just above the surface of the ground. A cloud of smoke was building at the edge of the woods behind the campsite as it rose from the smouldering embers of the firepit, billowed softly from under the tarp, and gently crawled across the campsite toward the trees.

I raised up, and stepped from my comfortable perch astride Jefferies neck. "Now THAT is one striped ass, boy!' I remarked as I stepped to his side and spread my palms flat against his butt cheeks. They were still wet with the rain, my saliva, and my cum.

And, they were very hot to the touch. I could feel the ridges of blisters along the edge of each individual stripe, left by the leather lacing that ran down the sides of my belt from the buckle, down around the end, and back up the other side.

"Son, you go on down to the creek and cool that butt down for a minute, then get over to the barn and grab 2 rabbits from the freezer," I said, now thinking about supper.

"Yessir. That all you need from over there?" he asked as he grimaced and peeled himself away from the tree, the towel sticking to his stomach.

"And get me a pack of cigarettes," I added.

"Yessir," he replied as he laid the towel over the tree, turned, and walked sorta bowlegged toward the creek. I had to laugh out loud as I watched him go, and yelled after him,"And bring a stick of butter!"

"Yessir," he said and waved his hand up as he disappeared down the bank into the creek.

As I returned to the campsite and began preparing for the ensuing night, I contemplated the events of the past 24 hours. Even though I felt both physically, and mentally exhausted, I knew that tonight was bound to be a very important one, for both me, AND for Jeffery. I knew that the intensity and energy we both felt was bound to come to a head soon, and I was convinced that the key to unlocking whatever was hiding inside him and holding him in check had something to do with his Daddy. I was also convinced that this subject was thin ice for Jeffery to tread. I knew that if I forced the issue, he might very well fall through that ice and freeze up forever. No, I felt the best way to handle it was not to push him onto the ice and break it, but rather to place him in the vicinity of it, and allow him the opportunity to step as lightly as he felt necessary to test it's stength. I believed that if I held his hand as the ice slowly melted, he would realize that we could swim together in this soup of lifes misgivings, and all his heart would be open to me.

Yep, now I knew just how I could help. I only needed to melt his heart, and I was convinced the best way to do that was by heating up his ass. Thus, I formulated a plan to fulfill my promise to Jack, Jefferies needs, and my own selfish desires, as well . Just as steam began to rise from the pan of water I had placed over the fire, Jeffery came up from the creek, a towel wrapped around his waist. He approached me holding his hands behind him. My cigarettes and lighter were held in a sandwhich bag which dangled from his teeth as he grinned. He brought his hands in front of him, presenting the bags of frozen rabbits as the towel dropped to the ground. I reached up and took the baggy from his mouth, and he continued to grin as he turned, replaced his hands behind him, and held the rabbits against his asscheeks. "I thought they'd be thawed by now!" he said as he looked over his shoulder at me."

"Boy, you ain't right!" I said as I laughed at his antics. "Come here." I said, and as he approached I placed my hands around his hips until they cupped his ass. His cheeks were like blocks of ice.

"Where's the butter, son?" I asked, almost afraid of his answer. He turned in an about face, bent over, and presented me a stick of butter, still cold and wrapped, wedged into his crack.

I pulled him over my lap, and removed the butter. Then I took the rabbits, opened them, and tossed them both into the boiling water. I unwrapped the stick of butter, threw the wrapper into the fire, and laid the butter back on his ass, right in the crack where it was. "I need this butter softened up some, but I guess that ass isn't quite warm enough to do the trick, so I guess it needs to be reheated some, huh?" I said, and I proceeded to spank his cheeks, solidly and slowly, rubbing each new sting into the spot before applying the next. After three spanks to each cheek, he began to flinch, so I stopped and said, "I wonder what time it's getting to be. Go get your watch, son, and come right back here," and I grabbed the butter as he shifted off my lap and took off for the tent.

Within a few seconds he returned, and resumed his position across my lap, holding his watch in his right hand. "It's five fifteen, sir," he said as he looked at the watch.

"_d_a_m_n_, that's a nice watch, son. Can I see it?" I asked.

He reached behind his back, handing me the watch as he answered, "Yessir."

"Gold, ROLLEX, very nice," I commented as I turned it over and looked at the back. Then I read the inscription, aloud,

"DADDY"

"THE BEST TIMES"

"ARE WITH YOU"

"I LUV U" J"

I held the watch for a while, just staring at those words, and listeneing to the silence that surrounded us, a silence that lasted for well over a minute. I knew that this was the moment of truth, and this boy who was laying over my lap was teetering on the edge of the ice. I fought the urge to speak for fear of pushing him too far, but I didn't fight my insticts, and I lowered my hand onto the stick of butter resting in his crack, and slid it gently onto his right cheek. Slowly I began to rub it around on his warmed ass, and as it began to melt, so did his heart. "That's the only thing I ever gave my daddy." he said in a soft, steady voice. I was about to respond when he added, "It's all I have left."

I couldn't think of anything to say, and wouldn't have been able to say it if I could have. I had a lump in my throat that threatened to change anything I might attempt to say into a wail of pain and despair.

I was fighting for an even breath when he spoke again, "You're alot like him."

I think my strength to speak at that moment came from him. "Here, son. Put this on," I said as I held the watch in front of his face. . He raised up, took the watch from my hand, held it up and asked, "Really?"

"Hell YES, son. Really. Now you put that watch on your arm, boy, like I told you to. Don't you give me any lip, son!," I demanded, and I popped his ass hard with my hand. "SMACK!"

As he put the watch on, I continued, " and you answer "YESSIR" to me when I tell you to do something!"

"SMACK!"

"Is THAT CLEAR, BOY?"

"SMACK!"

"YESSIR, Cowboy, sir," he said as he saluted.

"And don't you EVER take it off without MY permission."

"SMACK!"

"You understand me, boy?"

"SMACK!"

"YESSIR! I understand, sir."

"Good." I said, as I rubbed the butter into his ass slowly, dipping into his crack.

He shifted, spread his legs some, and asked,"Cowboy, can I ask you something?"

I continued to rub as I answered, "Of course, son. You can ask me anything you want to, any time you want to."

"You like spankin' me?" he asked.

"Yeah. I guess I do like spankin' you, son," I answered sorta quietly.

"Me, too. And I like what your doin' now, too. That feels good. My daddy always did that too when he spanked me."

"Did your daddy spank you alot, son?" I bravely asked.

"Yessir," he answered immediately. "He liked it, too. He said it was our 'special' time together, and we needed to spend as much special time together as we could."

I kept rubbin', and that boy kept talkin'. "He'd wake me up every mornin'. He'd climb on my bed, and rub my butt and then he'd start spankin' it some, "It's wake up and WARM UP time" he'd say, and I just lay there and he'd get my butt real warm and tingly all over. He said that a boys butt oughta stay sorta pink and tingly, and that he intended to keep it that way. He said that a boy oought to have his butt heated up good enough every mornin' so that durin' the day, he could still feel it tinglin' and it'd be sorta like his daddy was right there with 'im."

" I liked it that way, and sometimes I'd sit down kinda hard just to make it hurt so I could think about him and feel like he was there."

"Then, when I'd get home from school, He always made me take off my pants as soon as I got home, and he'd look at my butt, and feel it, and if I needed a warm-up, He'd make me lay over his lap and he's heat my butt up again, and then we'd go outside and play football, or wrestle, or somethin' like that. He'd always make me and Jack take our pants off when we got home, unless mom was there, but she wasn't hardly ever there, so we usually just wore our underpants, and lots of times we would take those off too, and we'd spend the rest of the day like that."

"Daddy liked to see us in just our undies, or nothin. He said it made it easier to be sure our butts stayed the right color and temperature. He'd always check our temperature after he spanked us. He'd get our butts real hot, and then he'd say, "Time to check your temperature, boys!" and we'd stand straight up with our hands on our heads, and he'd come and stand behind us. He'd put one hand on our butts, and one on our heads, and he'd make us bend over, and then he'd pull our butts up against him, and just hold us there for awhile."

"I could always tell he liked it, cause his dick would stick up and I'd feel it in my crack, and then he'd say, Yep, it's fine", or "NO SIR, YOU NEED A WARM-UP" and then he'd take off his shorts, sit down, and pull us over his lap for what he called a Temperature adjustment. He said it needed to be skin to skin so he could tell when the adjustment was over. He liked to wear his underwear too, and so he usually just had on his boxers. When my mom wasn't at home we never wore pants, none of us, and specially me and daddy. We spent alot of time without any clothes on at all."

"I liked those the best. And he gave me money, too. Every time he spanked me, he gave me five dollars, except when he checked my temperature and I needed an adjustment, He gave me ten dollars when he did those.. I made alot of money." He said, matter of factly.

"Did you save that money you 'made'?" I asked, sorta snidely.

"Yessir, for awhile. Until I had enough. Then I bought him this watch," he said, holding up his arm.

As the butter melted on this boys butt, and dripped onto the ground beneath him, so did his heart, and so did mine!

THE WATERMELON THIEF Chapter 10

That quiet, peaceful stillness that seemed to surround and engulf my world following a refreshing rain always eased my mind into a contemplative, philosophical state, often teetering dangerously between euphoria and meloncholy.

Augmented by the awareness of his gentle, rhythmic rocking, enhanced and maintained by his involuntary and apparently uncouscious raising and lowering of his crossed feet in unison with the methodical stroking of my hand as it consistently repeated it's figure-8 pattern over his supple cheeks, I closed my eyes and assessed the value of this moment.

This boy, languidly at peace as he lay prone across my lap, didn't have a clue how rapidly and profoundly his life was changing. And this old Cowboy comfortably caressing him, was in awe. This boy had the most innocent purity of actions I had ever seen. He appeared totally at ease with the simplicity of his self-indulgent expressions, a simplicity that would make most folks blush with embarrasment, or shudder in disgust. Yet, in all his freedom of expression, I still detected some untapped, almost secret thing, hiding behind a wall of guilt, well-disguised with rainbows painted with humor and innocence.

As loudly as his sharp wit and humorous antics spoke of the boyhood he reveled in and so proudly exibited, so his silence screamed the truth of some lost dream, some hidden but remembered guilt. Somewhere in the innermost recesses of his heart, some everpresent need seemed to be churning his emotions, longing for fulfillment and release.

I was snatched from my world of philosophical wonderment as he spoke. "Cowboy, I need to pee."

"Good plan," I agreed as I removed my hand from his ass. He climbed off my lap, and I stood, stretched, and walked to stand next to him as he began to show obvious strain. He was pinching his dick, just below the head, and his face was turning red as his cheeks puffed out. It dawned on me what he was doing just as he released the tight grip he had and exhaled loudly. A stream of urine shot straight out and then decended in an increasing arc, to spatter three feet high up the trunk of a small tree about five feet in front of him.

"Not bad," I said as I chuckled at his intense seriousness.

"That was lousy! I can do alot better than that. You just wait. I'll show you. I can make it go almost twice that far!" he boasted. I turned to look at him, and he returned the look, smiling weakly as he said, "Well, maybe not TWICE, but I CAN do it alot further."

Overcoming temptation is NOT my strongest trait, but this time I did just that, and dropped my hands to my hips as I let my urine flow at it's own, unaltered pace and distance. My _c_o_c_k_ in it's normal state is generally extended around 4 inches, and at about a 45 degree angle, but this young buck had kept my arousal level a good bit higher than my chickens were capable of doing, and now it was around five inches long, semi-soft, and stood out at a slightly less than 90 degrees from my nuts. My urine spattered against the base of the same tree Jeffery had aimed at.

HOLY _s_h_i_t_, COWBOY! That was AWESOME! he yelled as if hed seen the most amazing thing in his life.

I smiled and said calmly, That was LOUSY! I can do ALOT better than THAT! The boy didnt say anything. He just stood there watching as my urine subsided to a few short spurts and then stopped. I reached down and milked out the last few drops, unconsiously cradling my nuts and gently squeezing them with the other hand.

I glanced at Jeffery, who was watching me intently as he held his own boydick in a tight fist. He looked up into my face, and then back to my _c_o_c_k_ as he said, If you shake it more than once youre playin with it.

I smiled, and as I pulled on my dick a few more times I said, Like youre doin? Then I turned abruptly and said, Suppertime, son. Lets eat some dead rabbits! as I headed back to the firepit. I removed the rabbits from the pot of water and placed them flat on the grill. Five minutes and theyll be perfect, I said. Get the plates and all ready.

Yessir, he said as he reached for the plates. I walked to the tent and retrieved my underwear and stepped into them. He was turning the rabbits over as I returned to his side and squatted down next to him. He moved to the cooler and got a bottle of water out and asked, Cowboy, you gonna have coffee?

Yep. If youll fix it. I replied.

Yessir, I will, he said and he got the small pan and placed it over the fire. He poured half the bottle of water in, and then stepped over to the side and got my cup, rinsed it out, and got the sugar out and added it as he counted aloud, ONE, TWO, Then he replaced the top on the sugar, put it back in the box and closed it. Cowboy? he asked, We gonna do my stars and stripes tonight?

Can Cowboy piss on a tree, son?!? I asked, smiling at him. YESSIR, You sure can. Then I reckon I oughta get my list ready, right? he continued.

Thatd probably be a good idea, son. You go get that list, and then you sit down in that chair and read it off to me, one item at a time, and well have us a little chat about it. OK? I said.

Yessir, he replied softly as he headed to the tent for the list. He returned, sat down, and opened to the STARS and STRIPES page Id had him make early that morning.

O K, I stated. Read your STARS, boy.

There arent any. he said, looking down at the page.

STAR! I said emphatically.

He looked up at me confused, as I said, Add a STAR son. You did a fine job with those watermelons, and I believe you earned yourself a star for that, boy. Im real pleased with how fast you got em loaded, and Im also pleased with how neat you stacked em. As a matter of fact, you add TWO stars to that side, boy.

YESSIR! he said, grinnin as he wrote. He looked up at me, still grinnin as he asked, How about lunch, sir? Did I do a good job with lunch? I get a star for that? he asked.

You did a good job with lunch, boy, but dont push your luck! I said, smirking at him.

His smile weakened, but didnt disappear as he returned his gaze to his list and said, yessir.

Thats 2 STARS, so thats 2 special requests you can make tonight, boy. You can ask for whatever you want to ask for, but I decide whether or not you deserve it, and they have to be requests for something you WANT for yourself, and NOT having to do with the STRIPES youve earned. Is that clear? I asked.

So, they cant be for you to NOT blister my butt, right? he replied, and before I could answer he continued, I thought not. Then I know what I want... but I interupted him before he could finish.

No boy. You can make your requesta AFTER weve discussed your STRIPES.

YESSIR. he said softly, still smiling.

But right now, were gonna eat. I said, standing up and picking up one of the rabbits and putting it onto his plate.

Ive never eaten rabbit before, How do you eat it? he asked, puzzled as he stared at it on his plate.

You eat it the same way I eat it , son. The COWBOY WAY! I said as I reached over and pulled a piece of his rabbit off with my fingers, held it in front of my lips, blew across it a few times to cool it off, and then held it to his mouth.

He opened his mouth, and stuck out his tongue. I place it onto his tongue, near the back, and as he closed his lips on it, he also closed them around my fingers and sucked in, like he was sucking in a strand of spaghetti. I let my finger linger for an instant before I popped it out. He smacked his mouth, chewed a few times, swallowed, and said, Ummm, DELICIOUS!

Of course. I HAD to agree! He poured me a cup of coffee as I fixed my plate and sat on the cooler to eat. I think I enjoyed watching him more than I enjoyed the rabbit, and he seemed to enjoy it too. He never looked at me while eating, but smiled and made those GOOD FOOD sounds so common in the south.

After I finished eating, I sat my plate down and said, "O K son, you take these plates and all down to the creek and get them cleaned up, and then you come right back here and we're gonna finish our little chat. Now you SCOOT, boy!"

"Yessir," he said, and as he gathered up the dishes to wash, he began to hum some unintelligeable tune under his breath. I pretended not to notice, and picked up my coffee and sat down in the chair. I immediately got up, looked down at the seat, and realized that the towel he'd been sittin' on was covered in butter. I started laughing, and he looked up at me questioningly, then I picked up the towel, held it up for him to see, and he started laughing too. I tossed it onto the cooler and sat back down. I now had butter on the seat of my clean underwear, but I figured if it was good enough for my boy, it was good enough for me.

He returned from the creek just as I poured the last of the hot water in my cup. "You want me to heat some more?" he asked.

"Naw, I've had enough for tonight. We're gonna turn in early so we can get an early start tomorrow. Sit down right there." I said as I indicated the towel on the cooler. He sat down and opened his list. "STRIPES!" I said bluntly. "Read 'em, son."

"One," he began. "YESSIR." He then looked up at me. "I know about that one and I don't think I'm gonna forget to say it again," he said as he reached back and rubbed his hip, indicatin' his sore butt with a grimace.

"You'd best NOT, son!" I said sternly, then added "NEXT!"

"TWO, SHORTS." he said blandly, and looked down at his feet. "Son, I don't know what got into you, but you know better than to drop your clean shorts on the ground, and ESPECIALLY when it's been rainin'. Now you're gonna have to learn to THINK about the consequences of your actions. You LOOK at me when I'm talkin' to you, boy!" I yelled.

"YESSIR," he said as he jerked his head up and stared into my eyes with a very serious, "scolded puppy" look on his face. I wanted to laugh, and I wanted to cry, and I wanted to reach out and hug him, but I knew it wasn't time for that. Not yet.

"NEXT!" I said in the most stern voice I had.

"THREE," he read, straight faced and getting a little pale.

"INSOLENCE."

"You know what that means, son?" I asked.

"I think so. Is it....like....uhhhh..... like....when you say somethin', and then I say somethin back,...like bein sorta smart-ass?" he stammered out an answer.

The purity and sincerity of his search for the real meaning of this word caused chill-bumps to rise on my neck and shoulders, and I knew he'd have no trouble at all having his STAR requests filled.

"Tell me specifically, WHICH smart ass thing earned you that stripe." I commanded.

He thought for several seconds before answering, "I acted kinda smarty-pants and saluted to ya, and I didn't get the list when you told me to, and I said yesir to ya about a hundred times." He looked down and immediately asked. "Is that all one stripe?"

"Well, this time, since it was all so quick, and it was all tied to the same attitude, I combined 'em into one," I justified. "But, NEXT time each single thing is gonna be a separate stripe, Is THAT CLEAR?" I threatened.

"Yessir, but I don't think you hafta worry about that, sir. I don't think that's gonna happen again." he said.

"I KNOW I don't have to worry about it. YOU'RE the one who needs to worry about it. It's YOUR stripes, son, and YOUR butt that's gonna pay for 'em." I said. "Now you put that list right down here on the ground where you can read off of it while I teach that ass of yours exactly what's gonna happen if you get smart with me again!" I said gruffly.

"Yessir." he said as he leaned over and laid the list on the ground where he knew his face would be staring shortly. "Can I make my requests now?" he asked, hesitating.

"Yes, boy." I said aloud, and continued in thought to myself,"ASK, AND YE SHALL RECEIVE."

"Can we do this bare ass?" he asked. I looked at him, puzzled, and he then clarified with, "I mean with YOU bare ass too? I mean, like my daddy used to do it?"

I hesitated, for a second maybe, before I stood up, stepped out of my drawers, and laid them over the cooler. I sat back down, spread my legs slightly, took a sip of coffee and said, "AND?"

He walked in between my legs, picked up my left hand and placed it around his half hard boydick, inclucing his balls, so my fingers surrounded his boyhood like a _c_o_c_k_ring. He then lifted his left leg and laid across my lap. As he straightened his body out, and shifted slightly away from my stomach, he reached down with his left hand, and locking his arm around my leg and applying a slight pressure causing me to spread it a little further, he closed his hand around my chin."Will you hold me like this 'til you're through so I won't slide too much?" he asked in that sweet way that actually was everything BUT innocent.

"Alright, boy. Now you start readin' those stripes, numbers and all," I said.

"Yessir," he answered. He reached down and adjusted the list so he could read it easier, then he moved his right arn underneath his stomach, parallel to mine.

"ONE!" he read, and gently wrapped his hand around my tool. "YESSIR!" he yelled loudly, as he squeezed my manhood into instant stiffness.

"SMACK!" cracked loudly through the air as my open palm came down in an upward slap into his right asscheek. I felt a surge of blood pulse into my _c_o_c_k_ as it throbbed in his grip. He squeezed hard as that same surge caused his own dick to pulse in my hand, and his cheek buzzed with erotic pleasure under my blistering palm.

THE WATERMELON THIEF Chapter 11

Even though the rain of the late afternoon had left a chill in the air, my skin was coated in a silky sheath of perspiration that beaded on my chest, ran in rivulets down my abdomin and, pooled in the creases of my thighs, then overflowed as a torrent waterfall as it spilled down into my groin. That last rush tantalized some erogoneous sensory cells already aroused to their threshold. And Likened to an itch that sometimes attacks an area not always accessible, so this boys hand was likened to the longed for scratch.

I realized that his gentle, persist fondling and groping as he held my manhood for his own protection, safety, and security also gratified those same needs in me. I also realized that his upturned cheeks, laid willingly and longingly across my lap, were covered with similar desirously aroused goose bumps, and my hand was the scratch.

Within the realms of this budding relationship, I wondered with awe at the roles we played, and where the actual power came to light. It seemed to be a mutually gratifying experience, this boy yearning for a Dad, and this Dad yearning for a boy, but I also felt the need to exert power, perhaps to regain some control I had inadvertently, possibly even willingly, relinquished. I also understood the wisdom of his own Dad in his ability to recognoze the importance this moment of bonding held in their relationship. To be that much in tune with the needs of his son gave me a renewed satisfaction in my own beliefs and methods of nurturing.

My desire to gently fondle and caress this boys supple buttcheeks as my hand cupped them, capturing their radiant heat, my fingers freely sliding across them, dipping into the crevass of his crack, ever so gently massaging and probing his puckering boyhole, gave way to my hunger for power and control. As I relished the sight and feel of this boys butt, glowing mottled pink and red in the firelight, my resolve to even their color to a rosey crimson red returned and I resumed the task at hand.

As I raised my hand off his ass and began to lecture, I felt his grip tighten on my _c_o_c_k_, and his boydick pulsed in anticipation.

"When I tell you to do something,"....."SLAP"

"You will answer me "YESSIR,".........."SLAP"

"and then you will do"...................."SLAP"

"exactly what I told you to do"........."SLAP"

"Is that CLEAR, SON?"................."SLAP"

".......YESSIR......"

"And when I ask you a question,"......."SLAP"

"You will immediately answer me,"......."SLAP"

"with either 'YESSIR',"................."SLAP"

"or 'NOSIR',"............................"SLAP"

"Is that CLEAR, SON?"................."SLAP"

When I applied that last slap to his ass I planted my hand firmly and left it in place. As he answered,"YESSIR," I noticed a slight sniffle and I felt his dick pulse in my hand, continuing the rhythm I had set into motion on his butt as if anticipating another slap. I slid my hand into his crack and applied pressure against the inside of his left cheek as my middle finger probed into the entrance of his hole. "Spread 'em, boy!"......................."SLAP"

"YESSIR," he replied as his legs flew apart, separating his cheeks. I studied his cheeks, comparing each to the other, and noting their overall pink glow. I also noted that some areas still appeared mottled, with the area closest to his boyhole the lightest shade.

"NEXT!" I shouted as I slung my hand down backwards, snapping it just above his puckered hole landing a stinging blow from my fingertips...................."PLIP"

"AAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!" he screamed as he jerked his feet up. I tightened my grip on his boyhood and he slowly lowered his legs again and read with a weak, wavering voice, "STRIPE number 2,(sniff), Droppin' my shorts." (sniff)

As I began to lecture and flip my fingertips into his crack, he again resumed a rocking motion which alternated from raising his butt up to meet my hand and them hunching away from the sting, grinding his dick into my fist. He also began to whimper in rhythm.

"NEVER!"..................................."PLIP"

"DROP"....................................."PLIP"