The Bull

"Do you ever fantasize about me being with other men?" she asked.

"Well, I think I did once," I told her. "We were making love and you were making those sounds you make. I wondered what someone else would feel, being with you, hearing you like that. I nearly lost my erection!" She smiled. "Do you ever fantasize about being with other men?"

"God, no," she shook her head and all those curls bounced around, hypnotizing me for a minute. "I mean, I like eye candy as much as the next girl, but you're my man, Davis. Believe me, I'm fully in control of myself. If you ever find me with another man, rescue me, because I'm being raped!"

We laughed. The idea of someone raping Q was sort of funny. That's one dangerous lady! I was in total fear of her.

Michael came in and interrupted that conversation. "Dad, I need the oil changed in my car," she said. I called and made her an appointment. I gave her fifty bucks. She stood there with the fifty-dollar bill in her hand, staring at it as if it were something she'd never seen before.

"Um, something wrong?" I asked.

"Well, I was hoping to be able to buy something more than a sandwich off the dollar menu at McDonalds with the change," she said. "You know they aren't really a dollar, anymore, right?" She gave me the baby doll eyes.

I immediately lost all power of coherent thought and forked over another fifty. That got me a kiss, and I figured it was a great investment.

The weekend rolled around quickly, and we had some work to do. Thursday evening found me next door at Brad's place, helping him dig. We had two 4x4's with grooves cut in them and we were carefully measuring, getting them set in the ground at each side of his front porch, just past the bottom of the porch steps. Bull was out in his driveway, playing basketball with a couple of guys I didn't recognize. He came wandering over after his posse left. Brad bristled up like a cat with a bad case of static electricity.

"You guys building something?" Bulls are curious creatures, evidently.

"Just putting up some lights," I told him.

He nodded and seemed to lose interest, bouncing his ball back across the street. He drove away a short time later, and Brad and I hurried over to my garage. Some time previously, a tree limb had fallen off the maple in the backyard, punching a hole in the window in the back of the garage. I bought a big piece of Plexiglas, cutting it to fit the window, and I had quite a bit left over. I had cut it to size, and we took it over, sliding it into the grooves cut in the 4x4's. It fit perfectly, nice and snug. We stood back to admire our handiwork and Brad began to shake. It turned into a huge belly-laugh and we were almost too weak to carry the sheet of Plexiglas back to my garage after the laughter stopped.

Friday was a beautiful day. I woke up with a dusky angel sliding on top of me, and it wasn't until an hour-and-a-half later that I managed to drag myself out of bed to the shower. The girls were up and off an hour later, and Q came out of the bedroom, dressed in an orange and yellow pool wrap and carrying her little bag.

Her hips swayed seductively as she came over and gave me a kiss. "What you got on under there?" I asked, parting the wrap for a peek. It was breathtaking! An electric blue bikini I hadn't seen before. I started to unwrap her but she slapped my hands away.

"No touchie!" she said. "After, you're in for a treat, stud!"

She traipsed next door, just as I saw Brad's truck pull away. Glenda was standing in the door, waving to Brad and she had on a little red number that nearly matched Q's. I saw Billie walking down the sidewalk, and the game was afoot.

I went upstairs to Macy's room. It overlooked Brad and Glenda's backyard, and I drank a cold beer while I waited. The ladies emerged with a cooler and Q was carrying chips and dip, while Billie had what looked like a plate of pastries.

They milled around for a bit, and the gate opened. Bull, in all his glory, entered the pool area. I watched for a while and saw the ladies doff their wraps and put sunscreen on each other. Bull dropped his shorts and pulled his shirt off.

He had one of the most ridiculous looking yellow Speedos that I have ever seen. Of course, they all look ridiculous and no self-respecting man would ever be caught dead in one, but this! I hoped they wouldn't hear me laughing. Q told me later that she could hardly contain her glee when she asked him if he had a banana in his pants! If only I could have been there. Luckily, the window wasn't open.

It took an hour for the party to really get rolling. They all got hot enough to jump in the pool, and Bull lost no opportunity to brush up against exposed female flesh. He was standing with his back against the side of the pool, with Billie in front of him, dry humping him. Well, wet humping, in this case. Q and Glenda were on both sides, admiring him.

Someone must have said something, because they got out of the pool and went inside. I sent Brad a text: "Showtime!"

I went to the garage, retrieved the sheet of Plexiglas and took it over. I installed it with no trouble, and screwed a couple of deck screws in, holding it firmly in place. I heard the sound of Brad's diesel engine back in the alley behind the house and I stepped to the window to watch.

There was music playing. It wasn't loud, but I could hear through the screen. Billie was naked, gyrating to the beat in front of the Bull, who was in the process of taking off that yellow Band-Aid. That was one impressive horn!

The patio door leading out to the pool was open, and I saw Brad step in. He retrieved the shotgun from behind the china cabinet just inside the door. Glenda and Q were sitting on the sofa watching the impromptu strip show, giggling like demons.

Brad racked the slide on that Wingmaster 870 12 gauge. There is nothing quite as attention grabbing as the sound of a shell being chambered into a pump shotgun. It certainly caught the attention of everyone in that living room.

"What the hell is going on here?" Brad bellowed.

Glenda and Q jumped up of the couch with twin screams. "No, Brad, don't kill him," Q screamed. "This isn't what it looks like!"

I had to laugh at that cliché. Isn't that what all cheating wives are supposed to say? "You are dead, motherfucker," Brad roared in the direction of the Bull.

That prime bit of livestock made a sudden discovery of his inner beta, and, in the age-old battle between fight or flight, the Bull decided that discretion was, indeed, the better part of valor. His sprint was positively Olympian. I had heard the ancient Greeks competed in the nude, and the Bull would have made them proud.

I stepped to the front door and swung it open, just in time to accommodate the Bull's charge for the egress. He didn't stop to thank me. I heard the bellow of the shotgun, and this seemed to lend impetus to the departure of all livestock from the vicinity. Bull thundered down the steps at full velocity.

His headlong dash was arrested by the Plexiglas. There was a thunderous crash, and the Bull dropped as if he had been poleaxed. His head thumped on the ground beside the sidewalk, and he lay there, unmoving. For a minute, I thought he was dead, but I saw his chest moving as he breathed.

An unexpected bonus was added as Billie came streaking, quite literally, out, to crash into the Plexiglas, joining the sleeping alpha. Brad came outside at a much more leisurely pace, followed by Q and Glenda. They carried Billie down to her place and put her on the lawn in front of her house, while Brad and I did the same with Bull. Damn, the man weighed a ton. The amazing horn seemed to have acquired some damage in the process of colliding with the Plexiglas and appeared a little contused. He may not have been polled, but no one would confuse him with a longhorn.

We carried the Plexiglas home, after removing the screws, and went to the lake. We had a great time and I was finding a new appreciation for Brad and Glenda. I decided not to shoot them until the next week.

There was a police cruiser waiting at Brad and Glenda's when we got home. They promptly arrested Brad for discharging a firearm in the city limits and terroristic threats. I went down and bailed him out.

The charges quickly evaporated when the ladies and I gave our testimony that no firearm had been discharged and the police were unable to find any evidence that one had been discharged.

Brad and I had opened the shells and taken the pellets out of them the night before. Glenda and Q found the wadding and we took the shotgun to the lake, dropping it in the river on the way. Brad bought me a new one three weeks later.

The Bull? He moved the next week. I guess the herd of heifers in our neighborhood was a little unruly to suit his fancy.

Billie and Ted were divorced within the year. I guess they couldn't find the right Greek letters, after all.

Q and I are doing just fine, and we still live next door to Brad and Glenda. We get together every anniversary to celebrate the corralling of the Bull. I decided not to shoot them, even though I was itching to try out the new 870. I'm taking Q to South Dakota pheasant hunting. I wonder if we'll run into any bison.