More teams compete, until finally team ten enters the starting box.
“This is them, Rachel. Oh, my gosh, aren’t they smokin’?”
Rachel’s eyes shoot in the direction of the commanding man sitting tall in the saddle. His jet-black hair curls slightly against the collar of his royal blue western-style shirt. The short sleeves are rolled to fit snugly against his massive, bulging biceps. It’s obvious where he spends his free time, from the fine-tuned muscles and the dark tan encompassing his fit frame. Oh my, she mumbles as he sits his buck-colored hat firmly on his head. He secures his boots in his stirrups. His long fingers toy with the coiled rope. Sam acknowledges him with a nod and the steer is released. They’re off. Like bullets the three of them skillfully dart one after another. The steer runs for its’ life as Sam’s rope lunges into action. He twirls his lasso with the style and grace of a ballerina demonstrating pirouettes. As if he has mind reading skills, Brooks instinctively releases his rope. The twisted twine skims perfectly under the steer’s hooves and is brilliantly tightened to prevent the two hundred plus pound animal from moving forward. The two riders face each other backing their horses until the steer is air born. Everything is magically timed and over-the-top exhilarating. The ladies are on their feet screaming as the announcer exclaims team number ten has the best time of eight and a half seconds, with only one more team left to compete.
Sam waves his hat at Courtney who shouts and blows him a kiss. Brooks’ eyes dart toward the high-pitched squeal. Even from the distance, Rachel notices the brilliant blue eyes aimed her direction. Her chest heaves as though she ran a half-marathon. She catches her breath and continues applauding the skilled ride. How could a sporting event be so exhilarating and sexually satisfying? Brooks tips his hat toward her, with a crooked grin, and follows Sam to the exit.
With bated breath, Rachel and Courtney watch the next ride. The team is quite skilled, but can’t beat team ten’s ride. The guys are victorious. All eleven teams enter the arena. Team ten smiles proudly as they are awarded their trophy and belt buckles. Sam hurdles the wall and makes his way into Courtney’s welcoming arms. Brooks laughs at his exuberant teammate and hollers for him to get his ass back to the stables. Once again the announcer broadcasts congratulations to team ten the new Smith County team-roping champions. Rachel enjoys the view of the faded jean clad butts exiting the arena. She’s savoring one fine set of firm ass cheeks when the beholder glances back over his shoulder catching her in the act. He winks. She blushes, prior to catching her breath and smiling. Brooks relishes catching her in the act. He turns and tosses an arm over his partner’s shoulders. Sam lifts the trophy into the air. They turn the corner and disappear. Courtney proudly exclaims, “Team ten wins!”
Rachel smiles and says, “A ten—yes, he definitely is a ten.