Road Trip Texas: Luckenbach
Copyright © 2015 by texbearjoe
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author or publisher except for the use of brief quotations in critical articles or reviews.
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I have tried to recreate events, locales and conversations from my memories of them. In order to maintain their anonymity in some instances I have changed the names of individuals and places, I may have changed some identifying characteristics and details such as physical properties, occupations and places of residence. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
All photography of texbearjoe © 2015 by C.C. Brooks, ccbrooks79@yahoo.com
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Luckenbach
I still cannot get used to men in Texas getting up before dawn – I don't know how that gets programmed into them but Joel, Evan, and Neil were all up around 5am, and off making noise in the house as I lay there feeling groggy. I also had the damn song "Luckenbach Texas" going in my head, and I decided that's where I had to go to. Thank god, Joel left me in the bed unmolested and I could sleep a while. Around 8 – isn't that normal time? – I got up and headed out off the base to find some breakfast if I could, and sure enough there was a coffee shop just outside the gates. Ever had a tune in your head that won't go away? It's frustrating – called an earworm. Well, I decided that I had to drive to Luckenbach, Texas to get it out of my head, and then head on up to Amarillo and Abilene. I got set up in the car and started out driving, and I have to say, the Texas hill country is beautiful. Small roads, and very Mediterranean-looking kind of scenery at times.
I took it slow, and got very excited as I headed into Luckenbach, Texas. I have to say; it's like going to the Alamo. You have it all built up in your mind, something cute and Texasy and interesting, and then you get there. Like when I went to Paris, Texas earlier after having loved the move. Well, to paraphrase Gertrude Stein – the trouble with Luckenbach is that when you get there, there isn't any there there. A beat-up used-to-be post office, a dance hall, and lots of parking. I was kind of flabbergasted, but I drove around a bit, and noticed a small bed & breakfast, and asked them if I could get a room. Easy, since they were empty, and I talked with the lady who ran the place about what was going on. Suffice it to say, Luckenbach was more of an event venue than a town, oh well. "Go out around 5pm," she said, "It's beautiful weather, and I'm sure some locals will bring guitars."
I mulled over what to do in my room, and decided to have a restful day, considering how turbulent the rest of the trip had been. I found a town "Fredericksburg" which had an ok gym, and decided to bum around there and see the main drag. It was too cute – really, carefully restored and extremely expensive shops and little hotels. I had a strange sensation that I was on Larchmont Boulevard, back in LA, if you know the street. One lunch, one haircut, and one gym visit later, I headed back down to Luckenbach and decided to hang out near the bar/postoffice/dance hall to see if there was any life. None. But there were picnic tables to one side, and it was sunny but shady under the trees, so I took my shirt off, put a gym towel down on one of the picnic tables, and decided to take a nap. You know how when it's hot and you're tired and you fall asleep, it's like nothing's going to wake you up? Nothing except motorcycles with aggressive mufflers.
I must have jumped a foot as they roared by me. Sun was starting to set, I was slightly dizzy, and there were a half-dozen trucks and a block of motorcycles. I heard the murmur of talking again as the bikes were stopped, and faint music. Interestingly, nobody acted the least concerned that there was a shirtless bodybuilder sitting there, there was a good vibe with the talking and laughing going on. I went back to the "general store" and got some food – I won't even describe how awful it was – and back at my table, ate it, put down a bottle of Shiner Bock, and headed towards the dance hall. It was pretty empty for such a largish building, a dozen people scattered around. Some couples asked where I was from, and got drawn into conversation about big-city and small-city. So friendly! I bought a round of beer for my little crowd, and listened to Tejas-style waltzes coming from another part of the room, strummed on a fat guitar with a round back.
Just what I needed, a very low-key evening, and I ended up chatting with the bartender for a while with a few people. He took out his guitar at a certain moment, and started playing an intricate version of "Bamboléo" which was great – Brett was quite a talent. The room was emptying, and at 8pm it was going to be empty soon, so much for a weeknight in Luckenbach. I told the bartender I played, but only woodwinds and piano, and we talked about music for a while, styles. I told him I like all music, as long as it is good, from Black Sabbath to Bach, which he found funny. He gave me another Steiner Bock, and we sat drinking at a table on two benches, and he told me it really wasn't hard to play a guitar, and took one off the wall and handed it to me.
Well, I'm a whiz on a keyboard, and I can hear and imitate music, but curling my fingers around the neck of a guitar doesn't suit me any more than trying to play Violin. I fumbled twanging open fifths, and tried to pick out "Yellow Rose of Texas" which was pathetic. Then Brett surprised me. He sat down behind me, and putting his arms around me, held my hands, and helped me strum the chords to Yellow Rose. I saw a yellow gold band on his left hand, it looked scratched – he had it a long, long time. Brett got up after we were done as though nothing had happened, and sitting back down, stared at me and said, "Well, what do you think of that. Easy huh?" I looked in his brown eyes, and said, "Well, I probably will need more lessons," smiling, as Brett turned away blushing intently. "I don't know why I did that, but by the way man, if you hadn't noticed, I think you're a mighty nice Daddy," Brett said.
For once, I was at a loss for words. "I saw you sleeping out in the lot, and I just about up'd and died," he continued. "All man." "You're very kind," I finally sputtered, "Just a big old daddy." "Lena told me you were at the Half Moon," Brett winked, "She knows I'm bi for dads." With that, Brett got us another beer, and turned down the house lights, we just had lights behind the bar now. I looked him over as he walked around – he was a bit taller than me, baseball cap hiding a bald head, brown goatee, chunky in a nice way. And those brown eyes. He sat down again behind me, and wrapping his arms around me again, picked up my beer, and held it to my lips. It's a very, very strange an intimate sensation, drinking the cold beer and feeling his hot breath against my neck, but a nice one. Putting the beer back down, he picked up the guitar in front of me, and arms around me, started strumming and whispering, or groaning, or growling in my ear:
Joey, Joey, Joey Joey, Joey, Joe
You've been too long In one place And it's time to go Time to go
Joey, Joey, Joey, Joey Joey, Joey Joey, travel on
You've been too long In one town And the harvest time's Come and gone
That's what the wind Sings to you When the bunk you've been bunkin' in Gets to feelin' too soft and cozy
When the grub they've been cooking you Gets to tastin' too good When you've seen all you want All the men in the neighborhood
He sings Joey Joey, Joey Joey, Joey, Joe
I was melting, feeling his arms around me, and the song of course struck a chord – my longtime readers know how much I travel. I felt a lump in my throat and sniffled, when suddenly he started a heavy full-on strumming of the guitar, his right arm pumping like crazy, tapping out a syncopated beat with his boots, and suddenly he humming a deep bass beat against me, I could feel his body against mine strongly, and suddenly he broke into McCartney's "Don't Say Goodnight Tonight", if you can imagine that as a Tejano ¾ time song. He kept squeezing me tighter, and I realized I could feel his cock against my ass. We were practically dancing after a moment on the bench, when there was banging on the door, and reluctantly Brett got up.
He went over, and I heard an "Aw hell, sure!" and the door swung open, and in walked Lena with some very tough-looking large women, and some confused looking couples. I pulled my leg over the bench, and waved at her, Brett and I looking at each other across the corner of the room, and he turned some lights on. Lena had dragged the bed & breakfast guests out, along with her girlfriends. Everyone got a beer, and came over to our table and started talking, Brett and I were a bit quiet, the mood a bit interrupted. While everyone was talking, Brett picked up the guitar and strummed a chord, and said "He's justified, and she's ancient." The women screamed and jumped up, and Brett grinned. "Bound for Mu Mu land."
He began signing the old Tammy Wynette/KLF song, and everyone got up for a line dance, and Lena dragged me out with the group. I was awful, doing a harlem shuffle, but we all got to laughing as we turned the wrong direction, clapping at just the right spots though, and Brett kept up while we all kept singing along. "They called me up, in Tennessee, and said Joe hon, stand by the Jam," Brett laughed, and we all kept on dancing as he jumped into another line-dance tune, until we all stopped, falling back down on the benches laughing. On into the night, a great time, and then he began another Tammy Wynette song, "Stand By Your Man", with Lena singing along, and she suddenly noticed me and Brett locked eyes on each other while the rest of the crowd two stepped in a slow, lazy circle. Lena then started waving her arms like she had a brood of chickens, and a moment later was herding the people out the door, winking at Brett.
Brett locked up again, and turned the lights down, and sat behind me again, arms around my chest, hugging against me, gently biting the back of my neck. Boy, that makes my hair stand up! I shivered, and leaned my head back as he felt my biceps, and then started squeezing my chest, humming into my hear with that gravelly voice. "Brett," I began, "Uh, why don't we get a room?" Brett burst out laughing against me, "Man, If I had a dollar every time I had to say that in the bar..." he began, and I pulled away, turning. I put my hands on his face, pulling him to me, and gave him a huge kiss, then paused, then a deeper kiss, then finally I had to loop my leg back over the bench, and practically sat on his lap kissing him. He had a faintly musky taste of beer, and a tiny bitter note of tobacco about him, thick tongue that pushed deep in my mouth almost gagging me.
The more we kissed, the wetter my mouth got, as did his, until we were practically feeding each other saliva as we sucked tongues and breathed into each other gently, getting faintly dizzy for a moment until we broke off laughing. "Well what the hell are we waiting for?" Brett said, and he got up to close the till as I waited, but I got up and headed around behind the bar to squeeze his shoulders and hold onto his waist as he fussed around. He left his truck at the dancehall, not wanting people to see it at the Inn – "People talk" – and we snuck into my hotel room. I thought for a moment, and popped up some Bose Bluetooth speakers, and started the KLF album "Chill Out" on my laptop as Brett undressed. The album is very strange "Texas Ambient" if you can imagine, I put it on low as "Justified and Ancient Seems a Long Time Ago" echoed in the background.
Brett laughed, shaking his head, and I looked at his body – he seemed to be in his 40's, furry, little belly, and with that beard and black eyes, sexy as hell. He somehow managed to slide under the bed covers and get his underwear off, a tad bit shy as his eyes ate me up getting undressed. The music echoed oddly in the room, and he asked me to turn the lights out, which I did, the only light in the room coming from a light on a pole outside the window. "Man, oh Man!" he said, looking at me, "I don't know if I can compete with that." I was getting hard, and excited looking at this sexy man, and slid under the covers with him, and pulling him over. He practically leapt on me, crushing a fat cock between us as he began kissing and squeezing me, pausing to shaking his head, "fuuuuuck", and then grab me again to kiss even more intensely. We wrestled around a little bit as I got him under me, and he looked at me, eyes shining, a little breathless.
I kissed his forehead as I felt his tongue lick my chest a little bit, then kissed down further, his eyes, the tip of his nose, working my way along his furry chin, neck, and chest, as he started tensing up a little bit. I flipped the covers off the bed entirely as Brett gave out a bit "Oh!" and was kissing his furry belly. He suddenly flipped to his side, his fat hard cock flopping against my neck, and said, "Fuck man, I'm sorry, I'm nervous." I kissed his shoulder and his back, and told him it was OK, just do what feels right. "Can we just kiss for a while?" He asked, reaching down to pull the cover back up. I winked at him, and tucked the cover around his waist, leaving his chest and arms exposed, and lay back on top of him. I lifted him gently, putting my arms around him, and began kissing again, and he sighed, hugging me, and then burying his head on my shoulder. "I feel like I'm in a dream Joe," he whispered, "I'm, it's, well. I've not had too much experiences."
His cock was thick and rock hard under me, and leaning back I took his wrists, and pulled his arms straight up, and began kissing his body. I paused on his nipples, but they were not super-sensitive, but the sides of his chest were as I tickled him with my beard. He started struggling again, laughing, and I let him push me over and start kissing me all up and down my body, and he begged me to flex lying there in the bed. I made my pecs pop and bounce for him as he looked on, delighted, and then he dug in under the sheet wound around his waist, and pulled his fat cock up, stroking it. "Fuck Daddy, I, uh, Oh my god." He was starting to get a little speechless, feeling my muscles with his left hand and jacking off with his right. It was a beautiful cock really, wet juicy head he kept skinning back to show me. Then I blew his mind. I took his left hand, and stuck one finger in my mouth, sucking on it, biting the tip a little bit.
Brett's mouth was open and he looked hypnotized watching me suck his thick finger. Then I put two in my mouth, flicking my tongue between his fingers, sucking on the sensitive flesh. He groaned a little bit, and I then pushed three fingers in my mouth, sucking them in to the base, my tongue flicking back and forth. His left hand was his guitar neck hand, sensitive fingers to play with the fretwork, and I was chewing and massaging them with my tongue, lips and teeth. I pushed four fingers in my mouth which had two effects – I salivate like crazy, and drool was streaming out my mouth at that point, soaking my beard. Second, I could now push his fingers back deep in my mouth, until he pressed into my throat gently, and he could feel the ring of muscle. His eyes grew very wide, and he grunted, gasping and letting his cock drop for a moment.
He then curled his fingers slightly, pushing his hand in and out of my throat, which I love frankly, and was breathless with the spectacle. I reached for his cock which was heavy and rubbery, and squeezed it loving the heft and thickness. "Unhhh," Brett began, slowly pulling his hand out of my mouth, and rubbing the handful of saliva he had on my chest. "I can't believe I'm..." he began, but I put my hand over his mouth, smiling at him. "You're here." I said, pulling him towards me to kiss some more. Unfortunately, the music became annoying, even down low the sound of someone chanting along with a didgeridoo is just not sexy to me. I got out of bed, pulling the sheet back off of Brett, and quick put on Bruce Kaphan's "Slider", which is, if you can imagine, very beautiful and mysterious, slow ambient steel guitar. Brett started talking again but I put my hand over his mouth, squeezing his cock, and then began kissing him from head to toe, but this time he didn't jump around.
I got to his cock, and looked up at him as he watched, and licked inside the foreskin, tongue rolling around and around the thick head. Brett panted slightly, from nervousness, but also from the sensation I hoped, then I continued to kiss the shaft of his cock, his furry untrimmed balls, then along the insides of his legs back and forth as he moaned "Oh fuck Joe!" I finally kissed his toes, and then sucked them in my mouth, tongue rolling between them and letting my teeth scrape on his soles. I thought the poor guy was going to have a heart attack! I reached up to jack him off gently as I put both his big toes in my mouth at the same time getting a "Nn,NnOOO!" from Brett. I slid back up against him, and put his hand on my hard cock, which he stroked firmly, and perfectly as he kissed me again. He was more and more relaxed as we went on, stroking my cock and pulling on my balls, when I leaned down and spread his legs, licking a finger to stroke between his asscheeks.
He sighed as I slowly buried into his assfur, then touching his asshole very gently, simply stroked it. He relaxed again in my arms, and I pulled his legs further apart, but he put his hand on my wrist, and told me he couldn't take a cock, but he liked being played with. I continued on with him as the eerie music of more open fifth's from the steel slider guitar oozed through the room, and started sucking on his cockhead again. His cockhead was very fat – wide that is, and kind of flat, with a cockshaft slightly thicker in the middle. I started sucking the head again as he shook, suddenly holding my head, and opening my mouth I sucked all of it in to the base, feeling the thick middle press between my tongue and the roof of my mouth. He was pressed to the back of my throat, not long enough to deepthroat, but perfect for sucking. I started slurping and sucking on it, slowly from based back to tip, and he kept stopping to pull the foreskin back over the wet dripping head.
I immediately sucked on it again, which skinned it back. We went on for some time like this, my finger slowly working deeper into his ass, when he pushed at my hips, and grabbed my cock, pulling it towards his mouth. We were in a kind of awkward position for a 69, but we kept at it for some time, when he said, "Joe, can you stand by the bed?" I slid off, standing with my cock out in the streetlight, and Brett slid off the bed in front of me, squatting, jerking himself off as he began sucking my cock in earnest. He was a real cocksucker, and loved deepthroating me, gagging and slurping it all down. I pushed more closely against him as his head went against the mattress, and he spread his arms along the bottom of the bed, holding on as I quickly thrust my cock into his mouth. He gagged, and looked up at me, eyes shining, and I fucked again against his mouth, getting my cock deep in his throat.
He nodded at me, as best he could, and with that I began an aggressive face-fuck of Brett, who took every inch of my cock and then some. Huffing and puffing to get a breath in edgewise, we got a very hot rhythm going, until I relented, Brett looking a little distressed. He gasped for air, wiping the snot and spit off his face, "Joe, man, I've only uh, done this in, uh, you know, bookstores. I love cocksucking dads. But this is, so." He looked unhappy for a second, "Are you alright baby?" I asked tugging him up. "Man, I'm, I've dreamed of, I didn't know it could be like this." I kissed him again, "shush!" I said. He hugged me again as we got back in bed, and I cradled his head against my shoulder as I jacked him off alternated with stroking his furry chest. "Brett," I said, sitting up, "You come stand by the bed." I put him against the bed, and standing in front of him, held his hips and licked and sucked his cock as he had done mine.
I pushed and pushed on his cock seeing how far I could get it in my mouth, his hands on my head as he shook a little bit. "Joe Man, I'm going to feed you cum like that!" I continued sucking even harder of course, cramming his hips against my face when suddenly he gasped and let out a deep bass bellow and thick bitter cum oozed into my mouth. Its hard to suck and swallow, so I let my mouth fill up, then paused to gulp his sperm as he gripped my head even tighter. "Oh my fucking god, fuck fuck man, AWWW!" he kept on going, pushing my face into his furry crotch as he shook and continued feeding me small jets of cum. "Eat my cum daddy!" Brett yelled, shivering now as I moved my hands to hold his shaft, licking and sucking on the head to get every drop. "Eat it ALL!" he yelled, and then staggered for a moment, "Hell!" and then dropped on the bed, shivering.
I touched his cock as he jumped way, "Oh!" and I jumped on the bed to pin him down as I licked his thick meat. He thrashed a little bit, laughing and yelling, and then grabbed my cock and kind of dove under me sucking it. "I want feed me Dad!" he whispered, then with a powerful arm, that had been strumming guitar for god knows how many years, he began jacking me off like a machine, and I felt my own hot cum bubbling up very very fast. "Uh, Brett," I jabbered, hips jerking, "That's amazz-z-z-ing!" and suddenly I was shooting cum into his mouth. Brett had to have sucked and pulled ever drop out of my cock too, gulping and squeezing my cock, pulling at it desperately. "Feed me daddy, more!" He begged, sucking on the shaft and milking drops out.
I dropped to the bed finally, and he crawled up against me, panting slightly. Slightly awkward, very hot, and very fun, we napped and sucked another hour, sometimes soft, sometimes hard, but always exciting – Brett was really in hog heaven, exploring every nook and cranny he could of a big muscle daddy. Around 1am, he said he had to go home –though he was rock hard with that beautiful short fat hairy cock. We carefully snuck back to my car, and I drove him to his truck at the dusty, Luckenbach dance hall. I slept by myself that night, but I'm sure Brett didn't – I had the feeling that Mrs. Brett was going to get a very hot pounding. Luckenbach – where everyone is someone. I think it's more "where there's someone for everyone".
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About the Author: texbearjoe
texbearjoe began his notorious writing on usenet via soc.motss in the '80's and evolved with internet through the subsequent decades with twists and turns on websites, blogs, published books, private and public social networks, and virtually every avenue possible for new media. He's visible with photos and videos, and very chatty on bigmusclebears.com as well as texbearjoe.tumblr.com, and you may contact him directly at texbearjoe@gmail.com or through texbearjoe on the growlr app, and you can follow him @texbearjoe on twitter.
These stories are quite literally diaries of his experiences, though per disclaimer, names, places, and events may have been changed to protect the innocent (or the guilty). He is, indeed, co-incident and identical to the main protagonist in his writing, which perhaps gives them their unique flavor. One day, when you will least expect it, you will meet him in his travels.