The Sybian Bull Rider

"I tell you Hank, if there's a mechanical bull in the county I can ride it," Art said, running his hand over the stubble of his newly shorn hair. He pulled his grimy cowboy hat back on and tipped the brim at a passing lady.

"You don't understand Art, it's not a mechanical bull, this is not that type of a club anymore," Hank replied shuffling through his wallet to pay the cover charge for the two of them. "It's under new management with a complete new clientele."

"Damn it Hank, it still says Gilley's in red neon and if it's Gilley's there's got to be bull riding," he replied looking around for the men's room. "Look I got to drain the lizard here, you seen a men's room?"

"Back there in the corner, that little door there."

"Damn, back there? Hell the ladies room is just right there, looking pretty nice and they got the men's room tucked back by some stock room."

"I tell you Art, this is not that kind of place anymore," Hank replied, nodding at a pair of women who had been giving him and Art the evil eye since they stepped in. Sitting down at a bar stool, he watched Art saunter towards the men's room acting as if every woman in the place was looking at him. Well they were looking at him but not in the way he thought.

"Two Miller Lights," Hank said to the bartender, but when the crew cut woman merely shook her head he amended his order, "Okay, whatever beer you have."

"Two Pauly Girls coming up," she replied with a sadistic grin.

Hank nodded and then said to Art, who was just settling onto the barstool next to him, "I got you a beer coming."

"Good, I need one. You know they only got one urinal there. I remember the old Gilley's, they had them up one wall and down another."

"It's like I keep telling you Art, the place has changed. It's not even Gilley's anymore, it's Tilley's."

"Well the sign sure looked the same to me," Art complained.

"That's part of the gag here. The point is, this place is about as different from Gilley's as you can get."

"Look the only reason I made you take me here is the bull riding contest. Looking around I don't see a single cowboy and hell, no woman's gonna out ride me."

"I'm not so sure about that Art. That is a sybian device of some sort "

"I don't care what country it's from, I can ride it. I mean look at me man, I'm six foot two inches tall, I work out, got muscles and a six pack stomach, and I have the perfect line for a bull rider. Hell, and after I win the contest, I'm gonna pick me out one of them fillies there and take her for the ride of her life," Art said, nodding his head toward two woman sitting at a table together.

"Look Art, I don't think those girls are going to be interested in you. In fact I think they are together."

"Hell, that's no big deal, one for you and one for me. And if you're not game, hell then both for me, I've done that before," Art replied, taking a sip from his beer. "Hey what kind of foreign shit is this," he exclaimed.

"They were out of Miller Light, just drink it. And your ladies over there, I think they are a couple."

"Yeah, they're a couple of women and we're a couple of guys, sounds pretty natural to me."

"No, you don't understand," Hank started, and then stopped, looked closely at Art and then over at the two women, now glaring in their direction. "I give up," he finished.

Suddenly the lights dimmed and the spotlight came up on the "mechanical bull" as Art would have described it. A burly woman dressed in all black stepped out and said, "Ladies, we're about to begin our contest. Please, we need all contestants move over to the dressing rooms and undress."

"Undress, why I never done any bull riding with no clothes on before," Art said.

"I keep telling you Art, this is not a bull riding contest, it's a sybian..."

"It don't matter what country it's from, I can ride it. Besides, the ladies get a gander at my ole eight-incher and I'll have my pick of the litter."

All Hank could do was murmur, "You poor dumb bastard," as he headed over to a dressing room. In a few minutes he watched Art walking out, flaunting his well hung package to the women around him.

The announcer said, "Well, this may be interesting ladies, our first contestant is Art, a famed mechanical bull rider from the old Gilley days. Whoa, whoa there cowboy," she shouted out as Art hopped up on the device, grabbing the "saddle horn" and holding his hand up over his head.

A couple of the helpers there, got Art off the device, carefully placed a condom over the dildo and then lubed it up liberally. As Art climbed onto the device, the two ladies explained the "horn" to him, and then helped him keep his balance as he lowered himself onto the device.

Hank could hear Art's low moan just before he called out, "Maximum setting, that's the only way I rid them."

The lady at the controls adjusted the device and then stepped back as it was turned on. Art had assumed the classic bull riding form, with one hand cast up in the air over his head and the other hand leaning on the front of the device. When the dildo began its turning motion, he quickly grabbed both hands onto the "saddle" and leaned forward.

Hank watched as Art began moving up and down on the dildo, screaming out, "Oh my, oh yeah..." Art's cock had become erect and he quickly grabbed it with one of his hands as he continued bucking up and down on his "mechanical bull." After a few minutes Art hollered, "Oh come on ladies, here I go," as suddenly he came spewing his cum in long arcs onto the floor and onto the sybian device.

The device was immediately shut down and Art rushed to the dressing room amid boos and catcalls from the ladies. Several women threw their drinks at him as he rushed by, soaking him with the icy liquid. Hank quietly moved from his table and wandered around to the dressing room.

In a few minutes Art appeared asking, "Well did I win?"

"You stupid fuck, those women are ready to kill you. Let's get out of here," Hank said, grabbing him by the arm and walking briskly toward the exit.

When they got safely in Hank's truck, Hank started the engine and backed out of his parking place. As they carefully negotiated the parking lot Art said, "You know Hank, I think those women might have been Lesbos."

"You think Art, you really think?"

"Yeah, it had to be. But you know, if I'd have let them see a bit more of this ole eight-incher I bet I'd of turned a few of them."

Pulling out onto the street Hank thought to himself, "That seals it, I've got to find some new friends."