“Oh that,” he said looking down at his belly. “Brahma bull……called the ‘Widow Maker’. He got me real good, didn’t he. I was riding the rodeo ‘bout five, six years ago and drew ole Widow Maker.” He added looking back at her. Ya only got to stay on em 8 seconds, I just happen to stay on his horns for the last three.”

Rollie was not an overly aggressive male when it came to sex. It seemed he never had to be. Whenever he’d gone to the bar on Saturday nights, he’d always had plenty of women after him, so he just never pursued them. There just never seemed a need. But with Susan so close to him and her finger lightly touching the scar, he became just a little daring. He sat the beers down and grabbed the towel.

“It goes farther down than that,……see,” he said loosening the towel and lower in it just enough to show more of the scar.

But his own daring, his own teasing, betrayed him. His cock started to grow, to rise against the towel, and in a moment had peeked around the edge of the towel like a stay calf, looking up at Susan.