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A few years ago, Eduardo and I were driving my mother from Minneapolis, Minnesota, to Phoenix, Arizona, where she would spend her winters in the warm desert sun. Early one morning, we were passing through Roswell, New Mexico. We turned a corner and spotted a cowboy from behind as he walked under an old wooden porch of a store on Main Street. He had a perfect round ass and muscular legs squeezed into his jeans that were partially covered by well worn, dusty, tan, leather chaps. As we slowly drove past we got to see him from the front and then he saw us. He opened his mouth to reveal a perfect set of teeth with a smile that lit up the morning like the rising sun. Eduardo and I then glanced at the huge bulge in his jeans and I wanted to rope that cowboy right then and there! At that point my mom said “Well now, that was a handsome cowboy” and I was jerked back to reality. That year I totally fell in love with the desert, western wear and the look of a real cowboy. Since then I’ve taken up horseback riding and at times I have exhibited my art at gay rodeos. I must also admit I’ve tied up and rode a cowboy or two. Images (left to right):
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