The Cowboy Poet by Claire Thompson

creek appeared, the water frothing and sparkling in the sunlight, surely as inviting as any oasis in the desert to the hot, sweat-soaked men. Clint pulled up alongside the creek and switched off the engine. The place was just as he‘d remembered it.
How‘d you find this place? Tyler asked, as they climbed out of the truck.
Friend of mine used to be from around here. Fellow by the name of Lee Spencer.
Used to be? As in past tense?
Well, he‘s still a friend, but back when we first met I was wet behind the ears, maybe twenty or so. He pulled up the tarp that covered the truck bed and rummaged for the bag where he kept spare towels and blankets. I was still explorin‘ back then. Figurin‘ out who I was.
Meaning if you were gay or not? Tyler asked.
Nah, I knew that since I was in grammar school. He paused, adding, Remember that show, Bonanza ?
I‘ve seen it on cable a few times.
Well, I had a powerful hankerin‘ for Adam Cartwright. You know, the oldest son who always wore black. Tyler nodded. When I was about twelve and discovered masturbation, he was who I thought about. I imagined he would ride up to my family‘s farm late at night and steal me away. He‘d keep me holed up at his cabin somewhere in the mountains, his captive sex slave, forced to do all sorts of unspeakable acts.
Clint grinned at the memory, shaking his head. How lonely he‘d been as a boy, never telling a soul who or what he really was until he‘d left home at the age of eighteen, as his brother had before him, desperate to get away and find himself at last.
You imagined yourself as a sex slave? Tyler looked confused. But you‘re the one who likes being in control.
I am now. Back then I was findin‘ my way. My first sexual experiences were an exploration. I didn‘t know what I was, to tell you the truth. It was Lee who showed me how powerful this kind of lovin‘ can be. He taught me a lot.
So you started out like me? Tyler still looked perplexed.
Clint nodded. When you‘re first gettin‘ involved in that stuff, you got no clue what you‘re doin‘. It‘s natural to gravitate to someone who does—someone who wants to teach. Clint handed Tyler the bundle of towels and blankets, and returned to the truck cab to retrieve the cooler.
The idea of sex, power and pain always fascinated me, he continued, as they walked toward the creek. At first I explored it from a different side, I guess you could say. Took me some time to figure out what I was and what I needed.
Tyler seemed to ponder this. Then he asked, So what happened to Lee? You said you‘re still friends…
Yeah. He hooked up with a guy who lives in Fort Worth. Occasionally I get out that way and we get together for a beer or what have you. He taught me a lot, and I‘ll always be grateful for the lessons. He respected my limits and never took me farther than I was ready to go. It‘s one reason I‘m comfortable today with who I am. You see, everythin‘ I ask of you, Ty, I‘ve done myself.
You don‘t say… Tyler seemed genuinely puzzled by this, making Clint wonder anew just what his previous experience had been.
They set up the blanket beside the creek, which looked very inviting, the water clear as it rushed over smooth pebbles on the sandy bottom. They stripped to their underwear. Tyler looked around. You sure this is safe? Nobody‘s gonna suddenly show up with their picnic baskets and kids?
Clint shook his head. Nah, no one ever did when Lee and I used to come here. There‘s a lake not too far from here with a nice sandy shore. That‘s where folks with families go. I reckon we got the place all to ourselves.
All right then, Tyler said, as he pulled his briefs down his strong, tan legs. Before Clint could finish admiring his naked form, Tyler stepped down into the creek bed, moving toward its center, which at its deepest only came up to his chest. He ducked down into the water, rising up a moment later like some kind of blond sea god, shaking his hair and spraying the surface