"Buckle up for Safety," all the Welcome to Arkansas signs said as I drove past them. I'm buckled up, alright; not that that made me feel much safer. My eyes were closing on their own again.

    "Symptoms may include heightened anxiety or depression, often accompanied by fatigue or lethargy," the doc had said. "You might feel restlessness and insomnia when you're in bed, only to find yourself tired the rest of the time."

    I didn't pay much attention to him at the time. It was hard to take him seriously: right before I left, the only type of anxious I felt was anxious to be back home. I was certain that as soon as I got off the plane and stepped foot on American soil everything would be alright. 

    Here I was, back on the road, driving through another state I'd never been to before in the middle of the night. I'd been sleeping all morning and early afternoon lately. When renting a room, I'd always book an extra day, just so I could stay and sleep in past noon.

    Except for the occasional road sign, there was not much to see in the rural nothingness. I made up images in my mind; people and buildings all around me, to keep me awake. Until it started to backfire. The planes came as well. The buildings were blown up. The people dead.

      Just then, I noticed something on the road in front of me, illuminated by the headlights of my car as if they were a strobe light. I stirred awake. This wasn't just my imagination! I hit the brakes as fast as I could, getting the car to stop at the very last second.

    In front of it, looking unfazed, was a steed. Saddleless, at first I thought he might be a wild horse. When I got out the car and examined him more closely, I noticed he was too well-groomed to be wild. 

    "You're a Thoroughbred," I told the bay horse out loud. "Quite a valuable one at that. Now, where's your owner?"

    Carefully, I took one slow step after the other toward the stallion. I seemed to be more nervous than he was. He eyed me shrewdly, as if judging me for being so slow. I relaxed, and stepped right up to him.

    "Go ahead, you know you want to," the horse said with a head nod, beckoning me to pet him.

    "You have someone who takes real good care of you," I said, running my hands through his smooth hair. "That makes one of us." 

    "Buck!! Now what've you gotten yaself into?!" a man's voice bellowed from the side of the road.

    "Ya look like ya wearin' a Halloween costume," the Texan bartender's words rang through my head. "It ain't about what ya wear, it's about how ya wear it. That stuff looks like it's never been worn before."

    Indeed, the stranger that now approached me looked like a real cowboy. We may be wearing the same things, but he did so with an air of authenticity I'd never have.

    "I see ya've met Buck," the man said. As soon as his owner appeared, Buck lost interest in me and turned to him.

    "Does he patrol the streets every night?" I tried to crack a joke.

    The man didn't laugh, but he didn't seem to disapprove of me either. He petted his horse, his eyes darting back and forth between Buck and me.

    "We was just out for a ride," he said. "I got off for a little bit and he got away from me. Weird. He ain't never done somethin' like this."

    "What were you doing?" I asked, regretting it the second the words left my mouth. I didn't mean to pry.

    "Wouldn't ya like to know," the man said. Instinctively, my eyes shot down to his bulge. It filled up his jeans as if he'd stuffed them with something. "I was just… enjoyin' myself. It's a nice evening."

    "Yeah, it is," I agreed, looking up at the sky. Finally, I'd gotten away from the storm.

    "The house ain't far from here. Why don't you come over for a while?" the man said, still petting Buck.

    "I ought to get going…" I mumbled.

    "C'mon now, I insist. For findin' Buck. Besides, it's my birthday. You can't possibly say no to me."

    For the first time since he'd appeared, the man smiled. "Oh, I definitely can't say no to you," I thought, "and it has nothing to do with the fact it's your birthday."

    "What about the car?" I turned to point at it.

    "Just lock it up and leave it here. Ain't nothin' gon happen to it."

    I did as he said. When I turned back to him, the man had already mounted Buck and was waiting on me to join him.

    "Ever ridden a horse before?" he offered me his hand, like I were a damsel in a western movie. 

    "I have, plenty of times. But never without a saddle and a bridle."

    "Well, we'll pop your cherry tonight. Hop on."

    Apprehensively, I accepted his hand and climbed on Buck's back, with the man sitting behind me.

    "Now, first thing, you wanna make sure your balls are as comfortable as possible," he said. I felt him reach down behind me to adjust his bulge. The way he said it wasn't even sexual in the slightest; maybe that's exactly why I found it so hot.

    I tried adjusting my package. There was no way this wasn't gonna hurt – it already did, with the semi I was growing. And feeling the stranger's breath on the back of my neck wasn't helping it go down.

    "Now, find your balance, and just imagine the reigns are there," he continued, leaning in and putting his arms around me, pulling on imaginary reigns. "They should bottle this man's scent and sell it in department stores,"I thought, as I tried to breathe in as much of his musk as possible.

    "C'mon, Buck. Take it easy for our guest here."

    "So, how old are you?" I asked the birthday boy a while later, after we'd both gotten into the groove of riding on Buck.

    "24, as of today."

    "Huh," I said. I'd thought he was older. "Same age as me."

    "Well, would you look at us, havin' all these things in common. Now, d'ya also happen to like bourbon?"

    "I'll take a swig or two when we get to the house."

    "No need to wait till we're in the house," the man said, pointing to an open stable with its lights on right in front of us.

    A couple of minutes later we were inside the stable. The man elegantly slid off Buck. Since I enjoyed my connection with the animal I remained on its back, as the stranger walked to a bale of hay that was being used as a table, and retrieved a giant bottle of bourbon. While waiting, I looked around the stable at the couple of other horses that were in there.

    "These all yours?" I asked my host.

    "Yes, indeed."

    "And why aren't you having a party tonight?" I continued being nosy.

    "Who says I'm not?" he turned to me and started walking. "I'm here. You're here. Buck's here. We got drinks," he raised the bottle toward me, and I helped myself to a swig.

    "Happy birthday," I said.

    The man smiled, and accepted the bottle back so we could have a drink next.

    We drank like that, back and forth, like two teenagers hiding from their parents.

    "This is good bourbon," I said, checking the Made in Tennessee label. I tried passing the bottle back down to the cowboy, but instead of taking it he mounted Buck again, sitting back behind me.

    "If you're not gon get off, I might as well get on," he said softly in my ear, taking the bottle from me with his fingers grazing the back of my hand.

    Once again, I felt a stir in the front of my jeans. I reached down to adjust myself and scooted a few inches on the horse's back.

    "You comfortable?" the man asked. I couldn't tell if his voice sounded smoother because he was trying to make it sound that way, or because of the bourbon I'd had.

    "Kinda."

    "That's a nice belt buckle," he suddenly put his right arm around me and caressed my belt, "but you'd be more comfortable without it."

    He handed me the bottle to hold, while he used both his hands to unbuckle my belt. From there, he used two fingers and one swift movement to make all buttons on my jeans pop open in a quick sequence.

    "That's more like it," he said, as I sighed with relief. His hand slipped inside my pants and his teeth gently bit my earlobe.

    I threw the bottle I was holding onto a stack of hay, and used my empty hands to reach back and return the favor, unbuckling the man's pants and reaching inside.

    "Going commando? In jeans, on horseback? You must have balls of steel," I said.

    "They could use some TLC," he continued to whisper in my ear, as I started to massage his ball sack behind my back.

    As I did so, I could feel his cock start to grow. I never turned back to look at it, savoring the mystery. I did plenty of examining with my fingers, though, feeling the smooth, hard shaft and its circumcised tip, leaking droplets of precum.

    Hugging me, the cowboy unbuttoned my shirt next, biding his time, as I turned my head to the side and tried to take in his musk. Next, he hooked his fingers into the back of my jeans and pulled them down.

    "Ha!" he said when he saw the waistband of my underwear. "You're one to talk 'bout me going commando, when you got this on."

    He pulled the waistband of the white jockstrap I had on, and then released it, making it snap against my lower back. 

    The stranger's hands wondered to my neck next. He wrapped his fingers around it and gave it a squeeze, chocking me for a quick second before releasing; then pushing my whole body forward until my belly was touching Buck's back.

    Without saying a word, only breathing deeply, he pulled the back of my jeans even lower, until I felt the crisp evening air on my asscheeks. While stroking my ass with his left hand, I heard him spit loudly onto his right.

    "Mmm," I moaned out as I felt the man's fingers go between my sweaty cheeks. My moaning was drown out by a loud neigh from Buck at that same precise moment.