cowboyching

The brain is phenomenal. How it collects data and processes is astounding. Foreplay is really just pushing data at the brain to heighten the senses and (hopefully) heighten an orgasmic experience. How about tingling, electric sensations to take it to another level?

I can’t pass on by without a bucking horse story. I don’t have any grand wisdom. At the final analysis, I think it’s about how much fun you have telling or living your story. 🤪 Humor me. A few years ago, I bought a new mare because my favorite mare was pregnant and needed a break from riding. This new mare was as sweet as a horse gets. I climbed in the saddle without a thought of any problem. A few seconds later, and I was in the dirt. I was raised to get back on ASAP. Which I did, only with a bit different strategy, and a bit more cautious expectation. Amazingly...lol...the results were the same. I sent the mare to a bronc-riding trainer friend. After a few weeks, he assured me that we were ready to go for a ride...which we did. Four miles into the ride, the seemingly ‘cured’ mare caught me off-guard, and dumped me. Getting back on was instant. Within ten minutes she dumped me into a cactus patch. Back in the saddle, and making our way back to the trailer, she sent me airborne again. At this point...lol...I’m bruised and bleeding, but also determined. I know the very best for the mare is to not let her win. Before I climbed back on, though, I rigged a safety latch to give me more to hold my butt in the saddle. While I did ride the buck much further this time, it really only seemed to make her buck harder. Again, I went sailing. At this point we are getting near to the horse trailer, and I climb back on. I’m not sure that I would call it a win...lol...but we made it back to the trailer, where I dismounted on my terms. I kept extracting cactus for days and contemplated. I finally sold the mare. No anger. No excuses. My sales pitch was, “I’m not cowboy enough to ride this mare.” A true statement (obviously) that caught the attention of more than a few egos. I never heard how she did at her new home. I’ve ridden thousands of miles since and rode out a few bucking tantrums, and have also been dumped along the way. Again...no words of wisdom here from me. Get back on? Don’t get back on? It’s your call. There’s little glory in seeing the raised bet in poker with a few extra chips only to learn your good hand wasn’t enough. There’s also no shame in folding before you lose more. I say the best strategy is a toothy grin...no matter what. 🤪

That’s all I could come up with...and my brain’s first stab that she doesn’t believe in ‘giving shitty head’. 🤪 I think I’d vote for ‘Giant Sweat Hog’. I’ve found massaging large, sweaty individuals to be on my list of ‘Never Again’. 😎

All time favorite! Disney’s animated version of Robin Hood. Roger Miller’s voice as the minstrel storyteller. I sing this song about Nottingham periodically to my four-legged companions. 😍😍

Interpersonal relationship dynamics are fascinating to me. All of us are constantly communicating something. Strength. Weakness. Uncertainty. Confidence. Ambivalence. Compassion. Interest. Even disinterest. And…the verbal and nonverbal are equally profound. Much of my world communicates without words. One significant portion, is an equine world whose power exchanges are both, intense and subtle. At least subtle to the inexperienced outsider. When a 1,000 lb. mare communicates disapproval, it is wise to respect her communication. At the same time...one need not over react. A curious dynamic in an equine herd, is understood by simply seeing who moves their feet. It sounds simple and in many ways it is. The power exchange goes a bit like this: Whoever moves their feet lost. It’s a complex and subtle game of chicken. When I approach my herd (or any horse), authority is understood by who caused the other to move their feet. Personally, my inner truth is manifested in my intent to communicate compassionate and benevolent authority...whether the context is horse...dog...cat...animal...even human. Of course, most animals know this before one ‘steps’ into their ‘space’. Humans sense and know it equally, too. An apt analogy is ‘dance’. In the world where your counterpart outweighs you 5 to 10 times, or has canine teeth made for ripping flesh, or claws that scratch like fire, it is fascinating to observe the dance...even if you are a part of the tango. Human relational dances are actually more fascinating. The power exchanges are complex and nearly always centered around satisfying perceived needs. I am not an expert in the ASP world, nor in sociology, However, I have put ‘ten thousand hours’ + into ‘bedroom relationships’. It’s a glorious dance when consensual and mutually satisfying. Always though...there is an exchange of power...energy...resources...money. It is snowing today...lol...and my ‘wordless world’ leaves me with contemplation. That of course leads to written words...expressed energy. Some suggest that a good ‘dance’ between the sheets would contextualize my silly thoughts and liberate me. I feel rather grateful that the play of words produces clarity. Wherever you might ‘dance’ today...hopefully it is satisfying and productive. Remember: ‘Give til it hurts.’ 😎

Thanks, ILW. I know fetlife and a few of its people. I gravitated away from them when the girlfriend who was into that scene left. Not to be caddy...but, the general demeanor of that ‘church’ just didn’t resonate with me. While I did embrace that community for a season, my inner truth does not mesh with them. Frankly, your response has me thinking about community and the ones that have shaped my life’s path. My conclusion is that the ASP world (TOB & others) resonates with me because of its entrepreneurial spirit and practice. I suppose that sounds a bit humorous, but it’s my life. I have prostituted myself in a variety of ways, and for a variety of reasons (sometimes just to put food on the table!) in my pursuit of satisfying ‘perceived needs’. I’m all about free enterprise and ‘life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness’. 😎

I’ll confess...rope art never really did it for me. Only once was I ever on the receiving end of rope, and it just wasn’t exciting. At their request, I’ve restrained quite a few ladies. I can’t say that it was a turn-on, though. Maybe I’m too artistic and not enough dominant. I dunno. I always loved putting on nipple shields. I would happily sign up for a nipple shield application position. 🤪

Life is art; foreplay is one of life’s, great art forms. Some are into Wam-Bam. Some like more complexity. What are your creative inclinations and how do they meet your perceived needs? Here is an image of a passing fancy of mine.

I confess, the YouTube video that starts this thread sent me tumbling down memory lane this morning when I watched it. First up was a vivid memory of Steve Miller’s, The Joker (“Some people call me a space cowboy.”) Wow! That takes me back to chasing tight denim jeans, white blouses leaving little to the imagination, and tight, young cowgirls. Damn! Fun memories! The song was simply the background music. I can’t stop grinning. lol. Steve Miller Band wasn’t necessarily my favorite version. Years later, I heard another fun version while watching a movie with my children. Segue into the next song that my canine flatmates watched me shake it to this morning. Pink simply stirs my senses when she suggests I’ll ‘make you wish there were 48 hours to a day’. Oh, yes! I remember getting lost in the pleasures of my lovers. Yes! ‘Tell Me Something Good’! Not exactly cowboy music...but an anthem of my life. Lastly...(and thanks for humoring me), life’s currents shifted and changed and the memories circle like a band of conestoga wagons for a night of safe repose. I’m on the dance floor at P.T.’s on Evans. I’d always end my evening there with a request of Kid Rock’s. (circling back to the topic at hand - cowboy) Wanton women - married, single, tall, short, but certainly no strings. Gawd! I loved that place! Cowboy? Moi? Nope. “That’s a lesson learned long ago. I’m just a man.” 😎

OMG! That is flippin’ hilarious! I will laugh with this the rest of my life! Thanks for sharing!

Saddle time is a great parallel for me in all of life. When I was young, I loved hyper-energy and even enjoyed a buck, or two. Rugged miles have earned me scars and not so honorable badges. Without a doubt, I have had to learn to spring in the saddle with more intent with the increased body pain...but I sit the saddle with more confidence and agility these days. I suspect there is less thrill and more ‘at home’ in my posture. I don’t quit trying, but I also size up the risks quicker, too. As for my appetites? I have a few young fillies in my string. I love them, no doubt. One day they’ll be great rides as they learn gentle ways. But, if I need to cover rough and rocky country in a storm...I’ll take my favorite, reliable mare. She’s not old; she’s seasoned. She listens. We are on the same page and sometimes we share thoughts. Sure, I love her, and that is where the parallel to this hobby falls apart...but I think there is value in a heart that knows and gives love...without losing site of the value of a great ride. 🙏 I agree with those who suggest age is an indicator. No doubt. More though, I agree with the measure of the heart as a testament to depth of intent and character. That is true beauty...and arouses me at my core. 👍