Date: Tue, 5 Feb 2002 10:44:47 -0800
From: Rick Beck <bjwalkerjr@37.com>
Subject: Billie Joes Journal  Chapter 9

02/02/02

Thanks to BP for his editing assistance and to the Nifty Archives & David.

Because of my visual difficulties, you may find typos that I miss.  Keep in
mind that we all have limitations and this is mine. I tell one wicked story
but I don't see so well.

Rick Beck @
bjwalkerjr@37.com

In chapter eight we left Billie Joe and Raymond, who had been hitchhiking
near the California border in Oregon, when a rapist picks them up.
Desperate and in the woods after escaping, they are alone with their fear
and the night not knowing if he's still out there waiting.

Chapter 9
Aftereffects

There were traces of light shining through the highest limbs when I felt my
heart racing wildly.  The sudden reality of waking there told me I'd been
asleep.  I forced my eyes wide open, looking for the terror to be upon
us. I'd failed in my effort to stay vigilant. Instead of terror and the
madman it was Raymond's nursing mouth.  It took me all of a minute to
realize we were having sex on the floor of the forest.

My panic subsided. I wanted to smack him silly. I wanted to make him stop,
but I didn't. There was something reassuring about what he was doing to
me. I was still alive and not even being stalked by some predator with no
name.  I leaned my head back on the tree bark and let his mouth draw me
farther and farther from last night.

My body belonged to him after a minute more of his devoted sucking.  Each
time I thought I was about to fill him up with my fear and longing, it
stopped rising, and fell like a stone into some black hole.  Each time I
lost it, I struggled to climb up to reach heights I knew would set me free
from the terror.

I watched as his mouth moved up and down. He never let up or faded in his
ardor.  His red hair teased my passion with a wanton lust that I hadn't
felt with Carl.  My own hand went to work on him and a sticky puddle
surrounded my fingers in only a minute, maybe ten seconds.  His mouth
became more intense after he knew I was a part of his attempt to enslave me
to his desire.

	My hand filled up with his bountiful reward as he squirmed and
squeaked and moaned on my cock.  His sucking became furious and demanding
while he was still giving me the fruits of his labor. I rubbed it on my
face and lips, and neck, tasting him, smelling him as he took me there. I
ran my fingers through his thick short red hair, leaving the remnants off
my fingers as he finished me off in an explosion of light and glory.

I held his face down on me until his mouth was in my pubic hair.  I rode it
hard until I felt the constrictions of his throat and I still tried to get
deeper inside him. There were no objections and no resistance as he let me
have it any way I wanted to take it from him. He was a willing participant
and I was powerless to stop myself.

He took me beyond the beyond and I was alive and well and forcing him to
endure my rage and my lust as I rammed myself deeper, pressing his face
into my groin, holding him on me so he couldn't escape. I needed to force
him to swallow every drop and then to wash me clean with his tongue. I was
boiling over in my lust and anger and need, and my body shook and shivered
as he stayed with me until there were only small quivers left.

I loosened my grip on his head and my hand discovered he was hard again,
still leaking his joy, still ready if I wanted to keep it going. I eased
him off my faded glory once I was drained. He rubbed his face on my
lifeless groin.

I stood up and wiped his saliva off, putting myself away.  I watched him
watching my every move, worshipping with his eyes.  The sweat pants were
down around his knees and his passion stood straight up from the bright
hair. When he rolled on his back, looking up at me, the craziness was back
on his face. He made no attempt to hide wither.

	"Nothing like being alive, Billie Joe!  Nothing like sucking a dick
when you're alive. Nothing like tasting that essence of your soul in my
throat. You're good. Thank you."

	"Thank you?  You fucking sucked me off while I was sleeping.  Thank
you?" I argued, knowing I had loved what we just did as much as anything
I'd ever done but not wanting him to know.

	"For saving my life.  I told you that you needed me, but it was
always me who needed you.  I know things.  I knew you would keep me
alive. That's the only thing I have to give you now.  My talent."

	"I kept me alive, Raymond.  You were just in the way when I split,
that's all.  I didn't save you.  You saved you."

	"Right, Billie Joe! I saved myself with that guy strangling me and
shoving his cock up my ass like I was a pound and a half of ground round he
bought down the A&P.  You saved yourself and you saved me in the meantime.
The only way I feel alive is having sex, so when I woke up, I wanted to
feel alive.  I didn't have to do much but unzip you.  You were hard by the
time I fished it out of your pants.  Waiting to ride my mouth. I don't
think I've ever blown anyone more alive than you were just then. You know
how to give it to someone, Billie Joe. You got talent too."

	"Did he hurt you bad."

	"Some. I'm still bleeding back there, but it'll heal.  Did before."

	"Before?"

	"Never mind. It'll heal."

	"Let me see," I said.

	"Don't get any ideas, big boy. I'm out of commission back there for
a few days."

	"Fuck you, Ray. I'm not like you. Let me see how bad it looks. We
got to get out of here if you can walk."

	"You're just like me," Raymond said gleefully.

	He rolled boldly over on his face, turning his naked ass up. He
dropped down on his elbows and poked his ass at my face.  I felt the cheeks
and told him it was pretty red with one little corner dribbling blood. I
was careful not to allow it on my skin, though I had a strong desire to
touch the pink hole.

	"I'll live to fuck another day, Billie Joe."

	"No doubt," I said, thinking he could read my mind.

"Not right now. My mouth'll have to do you for a few days."

	"No doubt.  Let's get the hell out of here. Pull up your damn
pants."

	"You want to go to the road?" He panicked. "We should stay
here. We're safe here."

	"We've got to get out of here. How hard do you think it will be
fore him to find us once it's daylight?"

	Raymond looked around frantic.

	"We could hear him a mile away," I said.

	"You think he's waiting for us?"

	"We can stay in the woods once we get closer to the highway.  We'll
walk back north.  He'll expect us to be south.  He won't figure us to go
north.  Since he was heading south he won't want to go any further north.
I feel like he's gone, but I don't want to risk it. We'll be careful
today."

"I don't know," Raymond said, holding his knees back to his chest again.

I could see his pink balls and the pink flesh behind them. He shivered not
noticing my gaze.

We tracked through the woods for a couple of hours.  Always going north,
the highway just off my right shoulder, and Raymond making enough noise to
alert the California Border Patrol of our presence.  He dragged his feet
through the years of dead leaves. He walked holding the waist of my sweats
up because they kept sagging down into that wiry red pubic hair.  The
string was gone, lost during a spin dry cycle back in Minnesota two summers
past.

We sat on the ridge line next to the woods at a spot on a curve where we
could see on coming traffic for a mile or more. Each time I saw a car that
wasn't black with smoked windows, I raced down and shoved out my
thumb. Each time it passed us by, I climbed back to our perch, and we'd
watch some more.

	The car was new and shiny and green with regular windows.  The
couple was old and gray with thick glasses.  There was a back door, and
they gushed over "two such lovely little boys" being out on the road.  If
it had been two guys gushing, I'd have been back out on the road.

They wanted to know what happened to my face.  I told them I had fallen in
the dark.  The old woman drove, staying focused on the highway while the
old man studied Raymond and the red hairs that sweat pants revealed.  It
was then that I realized Raymond was right. They all wanted it.

	We let them think we were brothers because it was what they made up
for us.  We liked the sound it made. We decided to keep the fiction for
future rides.  There was something about brothers being together and
fighting for one another.  Raymond fell in love with being brothers.  We
rode deep into California before we stopped in Redding at the 76 Truck Stop
late in the day.  We were both starved and I spent too much money eating,
but what good was money if I was dead. We got anything we desired and I
readily paid.

	The old couple was only going another hour down the road.  It would
have been dark by the time they let us off.  Neither of us had the courage
to stand on the side of the highway in the dark.  I started to think about
going home for the first time.  It just came to me as an option I hadn't
had the day before.  The day before I was king of the road.  Today I was
scared shitless of everyone and everything.

Our gluttony ended with two jumbo chocolate bars. When we settled on the
grass near the fueling station, I found myself looking at how the sweat
pants revealed so much of my companion. He chewed the chocolate, using his
tongue on it once he saw me examining him. His evil little smile told me he
knew what was on my mind. He sat so I could see as much as I wanted to see
but not enough to get him arrested.

	"Want a date, big boy?" He finally asked in a breathy voice.

	"What?"

	"You're hard again, stud. Want I should fix it for you?"

	I did want him to fix it for me. I'd thought of it while we were
eating and again when we roamed around the truck stop.

	"Maybe later," I said, looking around for where later might be. "We
still got to get some kind of plan."
	
	"We shouldn't sit out in the open," he said, looking around. "What
if he's here. This is the first big city since back there."

	We went back into the truck stop and I called my brother.  He must
have been sitting on the phone.  Half way through the first ring he was
yelling at me.  Why didn't I call last night?  Where had I been?  Where was
I at?  What was going on?  I said I was fine and hung up before he got back
to yelling.

	So much for going home.

	Raymond and I walked out toward the woods to sleep that night, and
we passed behind some "bedbuggers".  They started talking to us as we were
walking by.  They were furniture haulers from the east, waiting to get out
of California. They seemed friendly and laughed happily as they talked to
one another. We felt safe sitting with them.

	One of them was named Ingmar.  When I told him I was from Minnesota
we were suddenly old friends, and he told me about all his aunts and uncles
and cousins from the old Country.
  
	"Yahhh!  In Minnesota they are being scattered for sure, Billie
Joe."

	Ingmar was a huge and friendly guy with a big accent.  He made us
sit with him and his crew after taking one good look at us. I was
reluctant. Raymond sat right down beside the youngest guy in the crew,
Sven, Ingmar's nephew. It seemed better to me than being alone in the
woods. The laughter and cheerfulness continued after we sat. It was
reassuring but I wasn't a trusting type any more.

	I hadn't drunk beer before, but it seemed like the proper time to
add that to the list of laws I was smashing in my wake.  I drank two whole
beers and felt like I had just conquered the western world.  Or at least
the 76 Truck Stop.  In the back of Ingmar's truck I felt safe for the first
time that day.  Later, Ingmar cleared a spot between massive piles of
blankets that they used to protect the furniture they carried. It made for
a warm and comfortable place to sleep. Sensing our fear, he assured us we
would be safe and he pointed out places in the huge trailer where others
would be sleeping.

Raymond and I crawled back to our allocated space after only a few more
minutes. I watched as he stripped naked for me. He then covered us up with
a blanket, snuggling into my arms as he felt my excitement, and then he
fell asleep two minutes later, leaving me high and dry. His best part was
at the ready and he'd fallen asleep while rubbing it against me.

I wanted another time like that morning and I wanted it right away. I
listened to him breathing and felt his tempting smooth skin. His smell
mingled with the musk smell of blankets, which smelled a lot like dead
decaying leaves. Before I knew it, while contemplating how best to get him
to work on me, I was drifting off and away from there, carried on some
restless memories.

	My mind rode off propelled by beer foam.  I thought of Minnesota
and of you know who, and that made me cry because I didn't think I could
remember what he looked like.  Then I thought of my parents and cried.
When I thought of John and how damn mad he was, I cringed and figured I'd
try to make it for one more day at least.

	I went to sleep knowing that tomorrow I had to go outside the
truck, outside the truck stop, and out to the highway.  I shivered while
having nightmares about Raymond screaming my name and dying in the front
seat while I slept.  I woke up with the driver on top of me and strangling
me and ripping my clothes off.  I shook and cried and held onto Raymond in
my sleep. He woke up a little to ask me what was wrong.  He was sleeping
again before I answered or could calm back down. I wasn't sure what was
part of the dream or if it might have all been a dream. The night became a
long never endless road of fear.

	I sat with my eyes wide open after becoming sure I was actually
awake.  The affects of the beer and the foam were now gone.  I laid awake
for what seemed like hours, listening to huge trucks moving around the lot.
Trying to not sleep.  The engines rumbled continuously and the activity
never ceased.  It somehow became a comfort, feeling the vibrations of the
giant beasts as they roamed the lot searching for the terror, ready to
devour it.

	I took off my clothes and pulled Raymond's face on me. I was
gratified he could suck in his sleep.  It was something.  I assumed the
position I loved after the two minutes it took for him to get me off.  I
buried myself in his breach and was immediately horny for him again. I held
his soul in my hand and decided not to try it for fear I'd ruin for ever.
His skin was cool for the first time and it was refreshing.

It was the first time he wasn't torrid with desire when I was touching
him. I immediately took comfort from him and pushed out the demon terror.
I found a quiet way to rest, staying as close to him as I could get.  If
not for the tear in his flesh I would have pushed deep inside him.
Drifting away from the viciousness of my world was my reward for realizing
I needed Raymond's body as much as he needed mine.  We had become brothers
born of necessity. We were exactly the same, two parts of one reality and
no way to separate them.
	
	I was startled, and immediately assumed I was about to be raped or
forced to perform some sexual act. I'd never been raped or forced to do
anything more degrading than take out the trash. While the fear raged
through me, Ingmar hovered over me, holding out a large glass, waiting for
me to take it.

It was filled with ice cold orange juice and it looked delicious once my
eyes focused. He smiled when I leaned up to take it from him. I was still
half a sleep and shaking from the initial fear that came from waking. I
felt bad that my first instinct was to think Ingmar might do me harm. He
had only treated me respectfully.  He was the kind of man I would have once
trusted without question. I wasn't able to trust people the way I once
did. Everything I knew about life had been altered.  I knew I knew nothing
about life.

The juice cooled my parched throat but while I was drinking, I realized I
was naked and he could see we were both naked.  I tried to cover us the
best I could. I tried not to appear like I was hiding something.  I thought
Ingmar had to see me holding Raymond when he came up. His face remained
pleasant and even cordial in the face of the evidence. I waited for him to
speak, but he said nothing and seemed to be waiting for the glass.
	
"Thanks. That's so good. I was dry as a bone. You're nice."
	
Ingmar settled on the pile of blankets beside me. He bounced until it fit
him. He seemed to have something to say.
	
"You want to be telling Ingmar what maybe is troubling you. He's got such a
good ear to be listening."

	"What do you mean?" I offered up with my convincing innocence.

	"Your face is having the mark of the hand.  I'm seeing where it is
the ring is hitting you.  Someone has been beating on these boys Ingmar is
thinking. You are telling Ingmar you are falling down. Do you think I could
be doing harm to you if I am knowing the truth?"

	When he spoke he was animated and used his arms like he might be
designing something in the air. His voice was deep and expressive though I
had to listen carefully to his words. He used a lot of extra words and it
took me a minute to sort through them for the ones that gave me the meaning
of what he said.

	"No, we didn't think that. You've been swell, Ingmar. What's the
point of talking over old stuff anyway?  It's over.  I got hit and that's
done with, okay."
	
"Was this your father who is hitting you? Is this why the brothers they are
being out on their own?"

	"No. We're not brothers. We made that up after... a ride we got. A
crazy man tried to rape Raymond. He's wearing my sweat pants because his
shorts were torn off.  All his clothes were left when we ran.  It was in
Oregon.  A long way back.  We were afraid to tell anyone.  We don't feel
too safe now."
	
"It is hurting you, this bruise you are having?"
	
"No! Yeah, it aches some this morning. My jaws sore. I think it'll be
okay."
	
"You let Ingmar help you now that you are telling me truth?  You are being
safe with me.  I'm not letting anyone to be hurting my boys."
	
"What do you mean?"
	
"Ingmar has the big heart for the children.  My own brother's son, Sven, is
doing the working with me.  He is needing to be making money for the
school. Ingmar will be helping you too.  Maybe keeping you off the road for
a time.  It is being dangerous for a young lad to be out there."
	
"I'm with Raymond, Ingmar.  He was raped.  Hurt.  I couldn't leave him.  He
needs me and I need him."
	
"A friend of yours is also being Ingmar's friend.  Raymond is like the
child too.  You are both being welcome to staying.  As you can see we are
more than plentiful with the room.  We carry a whole house with us, no?  We
are all being the family."
	
I didn't know what to say. Raymond slept on. He never moved while we
talked.  I thought that maybe Ingmar was the answer to the terror for
awhile.  He left me to think and disappeared out in the light through the
huge double doors that were propped open since we got there.  I lay back
against Raymond, feeling his body, pulling him close.  I was still
exhausted. Fear does that.  It takes everything from you.

	"You are sitting up for a moment, Billie Joe."

	"What?" I said, alarmed once again when Ingmar was back.

	I forced myself back awake.  The light hurt my brain when I tried
to look up at him.  I cringed as he bent and touched my face.  I jerked
away with a sudden shot of hot and cold running through my jaw.  I once
more deserted Raymond, rolling on to my elbows and letting them hold my
body up toward Ingmar.

	"What are you doing?" I objected, angry he kept making me let go of
Raymond.

He kneeled beside me on the hard wood of the trailer floor.

	"Ice, my friend.  Probably too late for the swelling, but maybe
good to be helping the pain."

	My hand went up to feel the towel and his hand holding it at the
hinge of my jaw.  His hand was huge, and mine was tiny, when I looked.
Ingmar was six six or more and way over two hundred pounds, I was sure.
Just being with him made me feel safer.  While I was with him the terror
stayed at a distance.  My hand stayed on his in gratitude.  He did not move
from his commitment to me, and he could see the appreciation, or perhaps
relief, in my face.

	"You are saying Raymond is maybe being hurt too? I'm not seeing
this."

	"More scared. His...  ah rear is...  injured some. It didn't look
too awful bad but it hurts him.  After the guy... ... did it to his rear
end."

	"This man is doing something bad to Raymond's hinny?"

	"He fuuu...  put his... ah... penis inside him."

I stuttered and stumbled in my search for the proper words.  I wasn't sure
he would understand.  I wasn't sure of what he would think of us if he knew
this had happened.  I watched his face for his reaction, and he was turning
dark and angry looking.  Both of his big bushy brown eyebrows slowly raised
up and the muscles in his neck drew up in a knot just below his bushy
beard.  For an instant he scared me.

	"I am wishing to know this man," he said sounding ominous.  Ingmar
would be taking his arms and legs and pulling them off.  He is the dog.
Not good as the dog.  He is hoping I am not finding him, who does this to
my little boys."

	"I'd enjoy that, Ingmar, and I'm not the violent type," I said with
glee in my voice. "Raymond said he was going to kill us."

	I threw that in just for good measure, hoping it would encourage
Ingmar to pull the arms and legs off very slowly, and maybe while roasting
him over an open fire, like some giant marshmallow we could all watch
shrivel up. I found this vision particularly comforting, but then I
wondered just how far away from us the man might be. My delight was short
lived.

	"You are staying with Ingmar awhile.  For sure no one will be
bothering you.  That is my promise to my boys.  I am taking care of my
boys.  Anyone who is touching you, is dealing with Ingmar.  My heart is big
and I am strong enough to do as I say to you I will do to this dog."

	I held his hand and sobbed a couple of quick sobs from the relief
of knowing that it was very unlikely I would run into our tormentor again.
I was sure being with Ingmar was the smartest place to be.  He pulled me up
to his chest, this gentle giant of man.  Still holding the ice in place and
with his hand on my naked ass, he hugged me affectionately for just a
minute.  There were tears in his eye when he put me gently back up against
Raymond, making sure I took charge of the ice before he deserted it.

	"You are to be safe now.  You sleep and I am bringing the sweet
rolls and the milk for you later."

	"That would be nice," I said.

	"Raymond can help on the loading and unloading of the truck.  You
can be helping Ingmar with the many papers he is not too good with
understanding.  We are all having a place and making the work together.
You will be fine."

	When Ingmar stood up to leave, I saw Sven standing tall over his
shoulder just as the sun blinded me.  I have no idea how long he had been
watching.  I wasn't sure if he'd seen how I was holding Raymond or that we
were naked.  I was not sure if he was accepting as his uncle.  He was
looking down carefully as I lay close to Raymond.  I could tell the two
were related.  Sven didn't look twenty and his very curly blond hair was
identical to Ingmar's.  He was thin, like a boy, but tall like a man.

He turned, following Ingmar out, looking back over his shoulder once.  He
was.  He looked directly at my eyes.  I was left holding a towel full of
melting ice against my face.  Sven was left wondering about something he
didn't put to words.  I thought it might have something to do with how I
held Raymond.

	My head was swimming around the inside of the truck as the numbing
cold penetrated my meager brain.  The sun passed over top of the door to
relieve my eyes and the headache that came on me each time I looked there.

				   *****

bjwalkerjr@37.com

Read my other story, DISCOVERING GREGORY,
/nifty/gay/highschool/discovering-gregory/