Bull Riding: Part 2 -- Lesson One

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Angie repeated the tips Lloyd had given her in her head as the mechanical bull turned and bucked beneath her: Hand up, loose ride, keep your seat, eight seconds.

It was Wednesday afternoon, two days since the confrontation she'd had with Kyle. He was still back at the arena, busy setting up for the performance tomorrow and seeing to the last minute details. Ignoring her feelings of guilt over breaking her promise, Angie had sought out Lloyd Wallar, one of the bull riders who performed for the rodeo show. It worked to her advantage that young Lloyd had been sweet on her since the day she'd started working for Kyle. Her relationship with the rodeo owner was common knowledge, but Lloyd had expressed his crush on occasion. He was too sweet and gentle a man to try to steal her from Kyle, and Kyle had never tried to warn Lloyd or anything. But Lloyd's affections had certainly been helpful to Angie today when she told him her plan to learn to ride a bull.

At first Lloyd had been as full of objections as Kyle, but she'd been able to convince him to help her. This training on the mechanical bull was lesson one; Lloyd said she would benefit from the simulated motion, sudden change in direction, and speed. She had fallen right off of the big black "bull" a couple times at the first increases of speed, but she was getting better. As this ride came to a stop, Lloyd gave her a big grin and a thumbs up from his position by the controls.

A piercing whistle cut across the length of the dusty, sparsely populated bar room, shrill over the blare of the ancient jukebox in the corner. Before she even turned to look, Angie knew Kyle had found her. He was standing by the bar, a fizzing cola sitting next to his Stetson, his hands on his jeaned hips and his face a stony mask. When their eyes met, her heart leaped nervously. To her embarrassment, as if being whistled to come like a dog wasn't enough, Kyle pointed one long, tan finger directly at her, then jabbed it angrily at the floor in front of him.

The message was clear.

With a sigh, Angie slid down from the bull, glancing apologetically towards Lloyd. She shuffled hesitantly over to her fiancé, only too aware of all the looks she was receiving from the patrons of the bar.

"Hi," she squeaked when she stopped in front of Kyle.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he demanded immediately.

Her own anger flared suddenly. She was not a child, contrary to what everyone seemed to think! "Oh, for pity's sake, Kyle, it's only a mechanical bull!"

His blue gaze narrowed at his. "This is no place for a young lady to be by herself."

Angie glanced around the room at the old men who had gathered for their afternoon drink and tried not to laugh. "I can take care of myself," she declared. "Besides that, I'm not alone anyway. Lloyd came with me."

Kyle rolled his eyes when he looked past her and saw Lloyd back by the controls of the bull, talking to a pretty waitress. "Lloyd Wallar couldn't protect himself in a fight, let alone you too. And you better be careful how nice you are to that kid cause he just might start to take it the wrong way."

"Fine! I'll just be a bitch to him then! Would that make you happy?"

At this point, Angie was yelling to be heard over George Strait's voice on the jukebox, and was standing toe to toe, nearly nose to nose with her future husband. "What other orders do you have for me, sir?" She was on a roll now, and her anger made her blind to the growing blaze in Kyle eyes, the tightening of his jawline, and the clenching of his fists. "Should I start wearing a bag over my head and a tag on my shirt that reads: 'property of Kyle Billings'..."

She was mid-sentence when Kyle suddenly grabbed her at the back of the knees and swung her up over one wide shoulder. One muscled arm locked her in place and he paused to grab his hat with the other. There was a general babble of amusement and encouragement from the bar patrons as her fiancé turned and strode towards the door.

"Kyle! Put me down! Damn you!" Angie screamed, struggling and kicking and pounding on his back. She received a stinging swat to the seat of her jeans for her trouble and a low warning to be quiet.

Kyle deposited his seething bride-to-be in the passenger side of the truck, then walked around to the other side and climbed in beside her. She sat with her arms crossed, one toe tapping impatiently, starring straight out the window.

He studied her, his jaw clenching visibly. Twice he opened his mouth to say something, then changed his mind. He finally started the truck, slammed it into gear and pulled out onto the highway, tires squealing. When they reached the little motor home, Angie hopped out of the truck and started walking towards the nearby arena.

"Now where are you going?" Kyle asked wearily.

"For a walk."

"Wait a second." One hand caught her elbow and she turned to glare up at him. "I just want to show you something first, okay?"

The anger seemed to have left him, or at least lessened, and Angie found that she couldn't tell him no. She followed him up the steps into their home.

She gasped out loud wit delight at what she saw. The place was neat as a pin, and the bed was made up with a richly colored coverlet that was obviously new. Curtains were on the windows to match. And, as she looked closely, she saw the entire bed had been sprinkled with live daisies.

Kyle was smiling crookedly as he choose one flower and tucked it into the hair at Angie's left ear. He kissed her earlobe, then her cheek and whispered, "Happy anniversary."

Angie was confused -- it wasn't their anniversary. Kyle chuckled at the lost expression on her face. Then he reminded her of the date they had set for the wedding -- in two years, this day would be their first anniversary.

Angie was surprised by his actions, and delighted. She had been wanting to fix up their home for some time now, and Kyle had been aware of that. "I can't believe you did all this..."

"I had help," he admitted with a brief shrug. "I got some of the girls to help me pick out the curtains and bedspread. And I gave the kids a penny for each daisy they brought me from the field."

Angie grinned at the images of her big strong boyfriend asking the women in the show for decorating advice, and collecting daisies from the children to spread out on the bed. Everyone in the show must know what he had done and she thought for a moment how embarrassed she would be to see them all again.

Kyle took her hands and smiled at her. "I wanted to give you something special. I . . . know how upset you are about the whole bull riding thing."

She shrugged, feeling the guilt gnaw at her heart. She pushed aside the feeling. Kyle had returned his attention to her earlobe, and he nuzzled her neck as he clasped her bottom in both hands, lifting her against his arousal. He squeezed and patted her behind, kissing her neck and jawline, then her eyelids and mouth. Their tongues touched and parted, then touched again.

Angie's clothes seemed to disappear and Kyle led her to the bed of daisies. There, he sat on the edge and pulled her over his lap. The worn denim of his jeans was soft beneath her. She sighed, feeling his hands as they cupped and squeezed her backside. His fingers trailed lightly down the inside thigh of one leg, then up the inner thigh of the other. He skimmed his hand teasingly over her bottom, then let his fingers dally over her back, scratching, rubbing, and grazing the skin lightly, tickling her sides until she giggled. When his fingers began to descend again, Angie let out a sigh and wiggled her backside just a bit in anticipation. Kyle chuckled as he stroked her legs, still teasing.

"Well, you're certainly excited about something," he joked, as he continued to stroke her. He picked up one foot and massaged the arch and she moaned. He repeated the attention to her other foot, tickling her toes just slightly afterwards. He tried to sound ponderous, but there was a definitely thread of laughter in his voice. "I wonder what you're so anxious for, hmmm?"

This time, he ran his fingers up the crack of her bottom and then dipped lower to where she was already slick and ready. "I bet I know," And with that, Kyle gave her bottom a sudden smart little smack. Angie moaned loudly, laying her cheek on the bedspread and smelling the fresh daisies as Kyle focused his attention on lightly spanking her naked bottom. She glowed in the feeling, his light spanks an extension of his caresses, alternating one after the other. Repeatedly, he placed several fingers inside her, rubbing her little wet pearl, and at the same time slapping her pinking behind. She was begging for him within minutes, and after prolonging the anticipation a little while longer, Kyle freed himself from his jeans, laid her out on the bed of daisies and plunged deep inside of her.

Angie never felt more full or complete than when Kyle was inside her.

They were both at a fevered pitch now and their mating was nearly violent as they thrust against one another. Their climaxes were simultaneous and two coarse shouts echoed off the walls of their little domain.

Afterwards, as they lay together cuddling, Kyle said, "I'm sorry I overreacted at the bar. You're right -- it's only a mechanical bull. You can't get hurt on that. I just thought . . ."

Angie knew exactly what he had thought, and he had been right. But she didn't want to think about that now. "Shh . . . it's okay." She interrupted him with a kiss. Though so recently sated, their appetites for one another quickly grew again, and this time Kyle led Angie into the bathroom and they repeated the whole spanking, this time under the hot water in the shower. Angie climaxed once from the simple pleasure of his hand on her wet bottom. Then Kyle took her, her back against the tile wall, her legs wrapped around his waist, his hands holding her well spanked, well loved bottom. She climaxed against, then was filled with her fiancé's release.

After the shower, they dried off and dressed. Although they were pressed for time, Kyle insisted on combing and braiding Angie's hair himself. It was a ritual they had begun a long time ago, and it always made Angie smile. She imagined how surprised the other cowboys and cowgirls would be if they saw their strict bossman gently tugging the tangles from her hair and twisting the long tresses into a neat braid. Though, after the help he had enlisted to create the wonderful surprise today, maybe they wouldn't be so surprised after all.

By the time he had completed the tender ritual, they were already late for rehearsal, but Angie was trembling with need of him again. Kyle chuckled and gave her braid a playful tug. "You're insatiable," he teased. "I love you."

Find out what happens next in Bull Riding: Part 3 -- What Eight Seconds Will Get You

If you'd like to email OTKromance about Bull Riding, write: otkromance@cs.com