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Colby, the boy I left behind.


Part 2 of 3.

(Dear readers, I've had to make this story a three part one because it's gone on longer than I thought.


By John Teller.



(Right David... Your Boy Colby wants me to play this song for you. Enjoy my friend: Bless The Broken Road.)




Let us begin part 2...

The morning sun was just popping its head over the eastern horizon as I leaned against a wooden fence, smoking a Marlboro and sipping at a mug of strong coffee. I'd dropped a bottle in the Thames five thousand miles away... an existential act part-born of loneliness and despair, and then, a few weeks later I found myself in a cosy place with Dave's `tribe' where almost anything goes.


I discovered a lot the previous night... my first night there. No subject was out of bounds. Hell, all but the youngest kids were aware that old perverts like me existed. But I was not treated like something that should be castrated. Old Dave had done his job well. Kids need to know stuff so they can make informed opinions. I was not sure about Shane, but the others would know I was no threat to them. Only Shane could make his own way there. I'd sown the seeds and they would either blossom in a shared togetherness or they would wither on the barren soils of his desires. As I sipped my coffee and pulled a drag on my fag, I would have put my money on the circumstances not bearing fruit. He was a clever boy and would make sure not to put himself in the way of temptation again.


He wouldn't be the first one. I've always been a boy magnet, but some boys, even though they might be all-gay or swing either way are not turned on by old guys. Temptation is one thing, but the actual act is a whole new ball game.


Not so with Colby. I've met lots like him. He would swing either way when he was older. The fact that I was a relatively old guy wasn't going to put him off. He was at the experimenting stage; wanting to do stuff to try it out. He wouldn't want anything really big up his backside, but neither would he pull a fit if a finger or a tongue was to tickle that cute little hole. He might even want the end of a dick inside him just to get the feel of all things gay. And he'd most certainly enjoy that little dickie of his being inside a hot mouth and a gentle tongue and lips working wonders on his equipment. But Colby was a bit special. He was a gregariously horny little sod.


I'd met a couple or three like him before. They seduce old perverts. Or at least they try. I'd met some younger than Colby who were that way. They didn't get their way with me, but there's always someone around who will satiate their desires. Some guys prefer little boys like him... and even younger. So I was in a strange place: in close proximity of a boy who I wanted to bed Shane, and becoming emotionally involved with a kid that my own morals rejected when it came to the sex side. Complicated stuff!    


I looked around the place. It was a nice view to the rear of Poker Ranch and up to the mountains, but very ordinary as I looked down the terrain to the city of Panguitch. But that's the US... much of it can be the most beautiful place on earth, but parts of it are like the moon. Not that the view down to Panguitch was like the boondocks. It was green'ish, but nothing special. But Dave had chosen this place well. It was far enough away from the Brothers and Sisters of The Church of Latter Day Saints - who had a large presence in Utah - for them not to be pestering him and making his lifestyle hell. They'd have been on a loser if they tried to convert him. Dave was more Shaman than Mormon. He once told me that if he went to live in England, then he'd set up camp in the middle of Stonehenge and be a druid. LOL.




I was leaning against the fence deep in my thoughts when a small voice behind me said, "Hey! You've got my jacket!"


I knew who it was without looking, so I replied, "You were asleep, so I borrowed it. Anyway, why are you up so early? I thought the beer you had would have kept you in bed until dinner-time."


Colby climbed up onto the fence beside me and sat on the top rail and looked into my eyes. Those Bukowski eyes were even more beautiful when they were filled with sleep. He had nice features: a real boy face; a cute nose and freckles, and lips that could pout well, as they were doing when he clambered up onto the fence right by me with a large woollen blanket wrapped around him. Through our eyes we shared thoughts. I was thinking what a beautiful boy he was, but his were different. That's why, after he'd made himself comfortable, he opened the blanket, revealing the fact that he was wearing only his tiny undies, and said, "You make too much noise when you get up. You should learn to be more quiet." Then he slipped his underpants over his hard little stiffie and asked, "Do you want to suck my pecker now you've disturbed me?"


I stifled a laugh and shook my head. "No thanks. I never suck penises when I'm smoking. Put that thing away before a little bird pecks it off. Can I get you a coffee?"


"Stop smoking then! Throw the butt away and do it! I'm feeling really horny and it will only take a coupla minutes!"


Again I shook my head. "I prefer a fag first thing in a morning."


He giggled. "I'm a fag... that's why I want you to suck my dick." Then he pulled a silly grin and let his little dick slip back inside his y-fronts. "So you didn't sleep on the sofa last night then! What made you change your mind? Couldn't resist me?"


I grinned and looked at him and showed him my half smoked cigarette. "This is a fag where I come from. You're a horny little toad. So the reason I slept with you was because I wanted a horny little toad in bed with me. They make great hot water bottles. Now do you want a coffee or not?!"


He nodded through laughing eyes. "Give me my coat first... and bring my jeans out with the coffee! Black! Two sugars!"


We were both giggling when I took off my flying jacket and helped him put it on. He was still sitting on the fence while we were doing it and it was a struggle, but we managed it, and because his small legs were sticking out from the bottom of the jacket when he made himself comfortable, I wrapped the blanket around them to keep him warm. He looked even more cute now with half his head sticking above the sheepskin collar and his sleep-tousled hair amock. His hands were not visible. The jacket was far too big for him and they were hidden inside the sleeves. And that's how I left him when I went to get him a coffee.


Dave was up and about and he grinned at me when I got into the ranch house and he asked, "Is he bothering you?"


I grinned back at him. "Not really. He owns my jacket now and he's told me to stop smoking so I can suck his dick. Apart from that he's fine. I've come in to make him a coffee. Will you do it for me while I slip on another coat?"


Dave snickered. "How did you go on last night?"


I winked at him. "He makes a nice hot water bottle. He doesn't know it, but my left hand was lovely and comfortable. I tucked it down his pants and kept it warm on his cute little arse."


Dave laughed. "Don't tell him you did that or you'll be a lost cause."


I also laughed as I was walking away towards the bedroom and called back, "I won't. Put some bromide in his coffee will you! Black; two sugars!" And then I added, "Best put some in mine as well. The little bugger is getting to me."


Dave laughed again.    




Back at the fence and after Colby had put on his jeans and got back on the fence and struggled to get his hands through the jacket sleeves to take the coffee from me, we were silent for a while as I looked down the valley and he studied me. I lit another cigarette. Then I heard him say, "You like me a lot, don't you!"


"You're a pain in the arse," I replied.


He chuckled. "Butt. We call it `butt' or `ass' here. And you like my butt. If I was older you'd do to me what you'd like to do to Shane. But I'm not sure I would let you do that to me. Don't like nothing up my butt. Just my pecker and balls sucked."


I wanted to laugh, but I didn't. Instead, I said, "That's a double negative. Don't like nothing up my butt means that you like something up it."


Again he chuckled. "A tongue would probably be great, and a finger end, but when I say nothing, I mean that big thing between your legs right up into my belly. And don't tell me it isn't big... I snuck up on you and saw you in the shower. Anyway, how come you joined the army?"


Again I had to stifle my laughter. (It always amuses me how boys can flit from one subject to an entirely different one that isn't even remotely connected. But that's what boys do... their minds work in waves of random thoughts. That's why I adore them.) "I was pretty much like you," I said, "a single mother; four siblings; poverty; so I got outta there when I was old enough before I ended up in the gutter. I didn't have a Dave Sanders to look after me. You're a lucky boy. He loves you. It's good to have someone who loves you. They keep you on the straight and narrow. Make sure you always respect him."


"I do, and I love him, more than anybody. What was he really like when he was in Special Forces?"


"Crazy. We were all crazy. But there are times in your life when you're in a crazy situation and you need someone to watch your back, and there's nothing more precious than a crazy guy like yourself. You become brothers... brothers in arms. And there's nothing more special than that I can tell you." Then I decided to play him at his own game and I said, "So don't ask Dave to suck your little dickie. He's far more important than a little dickie sucker. Little dickie suckers don't keep you on the straight and narrow."


I waited. Colby was thinking, and then he said, "I already asked him."




"He told me that he would when I was old enough and he wasn't breaking the law, if I still wanted to do it that is."


"But you can't wait that long?"


"No. That's why I want you to do it."


"Because I'm not important?"


"Well... you're important, but you can skedaddle outta here when you gone and done it. Dave can't."


I looked into Bukowski eyes. Colby might only have been ten years old, but his brain was older than his body age. I grinned at him. "You're a clever boy, but why should I spoil my vacation just so I can suck your little dickie? Doesn't make sense, does it?"


He grinned. "When you put it like that, then it doesn't. But make sure you do it before you skedaddle. I'm going to shower and get dressed. Do you want to wash my butt?"


And he was off the fence and gone before I could answer him. But when he was gone I had a grin on my face from ear to ear, and that sharp knife of love had dug a bit deeper into my heart.    





April went through the calendar door and May entered.




May 24th. Colby's 11th birthday. Although the actual day was midweek, we celebrated it at Dave's place on the Saturday following. That was fun!


Dave told him he couldn't come over until Saturday morning. He kicked up his usual fuss and those damned pouts of his were more than plentiful. But Dave stuck to his guns and he arrived at about ten in the morning. Then he stopped moaning and pouting.


Dave and Shane and me had decorated the place up with birthday banners and all the hoo-hah Yanks have on kids' birthdays. And I reckon every waif and stray that side of the Grand Canyon was present. It was like a kids' lunatic asylum. I don't think I stopped laughing all day. Colby may have been the horniest little toerag I'd ever met for his age, but he was still a boy, and he loved parties, especially when he was the main attraction.


So the day went great; the day turned into early evening and many of the kids disappeared; early evening turned into late evening; his mom went home, which left just Dave and Shane and Colby and me at Poker Ranch. But the seating arrangements were different than usual. Colby had deserted me. He was with the man he truly loved. In fact, throughout most of the day he'd clung to Dave. I'd been people-watching again. I missed nothing. I didn't miss the many kisses Dave planted on his head, and I didn't miss the many times that Colby went to Dave and they just touched. Tactile; unspoken love. It was beautiful.


Late evening. Beers and music and laughter and fun, and then, when the beers had really got to me, I got to sing a song just for Colby.


We were sitting on the sofas. I was watching the small boy who had disturbed those hidden emotions deep inside me. He was beautiful. He was special. Very special. A pain-in-the-arse type of special. He'd got to me inside and there was nothing I could do about it. So I went to the piano, pointed at Colby and told him to come and sit on my knee. He looked puzzled. Then he wormed his way out of Dave's arms and came to sit with me. I told him to snuggle up to me so I could both hold him and play the piano at the same time. He grinned and did as he was told. Then, while he had his arms wrapped around my chest and he was looking up at me with his beautiful blue Bukowski Eyes and I was doing the Tom Waits look with the obligatory cigarette hanging from the corner of my mouth, I let some of those feelings out of me and sang Take It With Me to him, but I changed some of the lyrics to suit the moment.


Phone's off the hook
No one knows where we are
It's a long time since I
Drank champagne
The ocean is blue
As blue as your eyes
I'm gonna take it with me
When I go.

Old long since gone
Now way back when
I lived in London Town
Ain't no good thing
Ever dies
I'm gonna take it with me
When I go.

Far far away a train
Whistle blows
Wherever you're goin
Wherever you've been
Waving good bye at the end
Of the day
You're up and you're over
And you're far away.

Always for you, and
Forever yours
It felt just like the old days
We fell asleep on Dave's porch
I'm gonna take it with me
When I go.

All broken down by
The side of the road
I was never more alive or
I've worn the faces off
All the cards
I'm gonna take it with me
When I go.

Children are playing
At the end of the day
Strangers are singing
On our lawn
It's got to be more
Than flesh and bone
All that you've loved
Is all you own.

In a land there's a town
And in that town there's
A house
And in that house
There's a boy
And in that boy
There's a heart I love
I'm gonna take it
With me when I go
I'm gonna take it
With me when I go.


When I'd finished, the only dry eyes in the place were mine.


It must have been the beer. Strange stuff those Budweisers. They could even make an Old Fart Tart Airborne Special Forces Shrek shed tears. Dave had his brawny arm around Shane and they were both blubbering like a couple of babies! And Colby's arms around me were really tight as he sobbed his heart out into my chest. Silly bloody Yanks! Thank God for a Brit stiff upper lip.


And then I broke the melancholy. I closed the lid of the piano, got up and picked Colby up into my arms and carried him back to the sofa I'd been sitting on, threw him unceremoniously onto it, and I gave him the birthday present he'd been badgering me about all day. It was stuffed down by the side of the sofa. It was only a small gift wrapped item and I'd tied it up with pink ribbons. He was giggling his head off while he tore it open, and then he howled with laughter when he saw the six-pack of boys' Superman underpants I'd got for him. Melancholy to wonderful amusement. Proper birthday stuff.


But it got better. He wore a pair when we went to bed and he christened them with one of his now familiar jerk-offs before he went to sleep. But before he went to sleep, he turned over and wrapped his small arms around me and snuggled into me, so I wrapped my arms around him and kissed his boy-smell hair. Better than sex that cuddle was.




(Take a break from the story just now.)

At this point I'm going to insert another video. It's one that my Editor, L, made for the `cast' of this story, which is really about David and Colby and about their love for each other. Me and L sometimes have big arguments. It's not easy for a Yank to proof a story written by a `stoopid Brit' whose writing style often breaks the rules of grammar and whose use of colloquialisms can be baffling to someone who was educated over The Pond. But I'll let him tell you himself.


Dear Readers -

David, Shane, Colby and I (John's humble editor) should feel especially honored (without the "u" - take that, you Brit) that John has, for the first time that I am aware of, taken up some space in a story to "break the fourth wall" to this extent.

John has for a long time now added multimedia links to his stories. These little audio-video pieces are intended to enhance your experience with John's plots and characters.  They are not meant to be documentaries nor the foundation upon which his narrative is based.  Your understanding of John's words and your own imagination are certainly primary, but his G-rated links are the frosting on his literary cake, so to speak.

When John discovered my penchant for all things "movie", he invited me to create a few of these video mini-adventures for him.  He has published a few already, some more are in the wings, and a few more are just twinkles in our eyes.  When I proofread this story (If there are any errors when you read it then blame John and not me. He's forever messing with a story right up to the moment he publishes it), I immediately thought of two Hollywood movies and was inspired to create the little "flick" at the end of the link below.

As they say in the entertainment biz, let me set the scene for you, how I see the plot and characters in the video clip. David is played by Kenny Rogers.  Anthony Michael Hall plays Colby.  The older blond boy with attitude could be Shane on a bad day. (Forgive me Shane.) The brunette boy may represent the LGBT community.  The girl could be a mom and/or another stray.  David is picking up the weekender kids using his RV.  They drive to a house that could be Dave's place (similar, but smaller than story description) or they could have returned to one of the kids' house to pick up a forgotten item. Then they are back "on the road again", heading who knows where.  These scenes depict some of the dynamics John describes about Dave's tribe.  And the background music is an alternate version of Colby's requested song "Bless the Broken Road".

There is an image from another movie towards the end, with a special message.

Although we have never met - Colby, this one's for you.  Knock yourself out! Colby Birthday.

~  L 




(And now may I continue without further interruptions from my bloody editor?!) 


And May into June. I was getting used to the place, and I liked it!


Dave made sure I was entertained. He always was an outdoor man. The RV was unsheathed and cleaned up and most weekends we were out somewhere. Always about ten of us and it was sleep anywhere depending on who was with us. Tents for the guys when the womenfolk were with us. All dropout folk who had hit on hard times. I was the only one who could say they had a stash in the bank, so I used it big style. Once I'd really explained to Dave how I'd got it and how much I'd stashed away, he had no scruples when it came to spending US taxpayer's dollars. I was the roulette wheel and they always had the lucky number.


Panguitch Lake. A great place. Only late May did we get to do some fishing because it was out of season until then. But the kids loved the water. They rambled and gambolled and their laughter or tears was music to my ears. Late nights by the campfire under the stars while the beers flowed and all you could see were dim, firelit faces and a circle of lower legs. And always, wherever I went... was Colby. I knew he loved Dave more than me, but I didn't mind being second best. Dave was his bedrock; I was the water where he could float above it. And like the rains come and go, when the river is dry then there's always someone to dig a well for the drinking water that sustains life. Dave was that well-digger.


But I was becoming a close second to Dave. Boys show their emotions in many ways. Some are quiet and reserved and only let their feelings out when they know no one is looking. Some, like Colby, are not shy and reserved. He let his feelings out in various ways. He would often cling to Dave like a leech if something had upset him. And he had a habit of expressing his feelings by hitting you. Many boys do that... thump you as a way of saying You're special to me. Colby was a sadistic little bastard that way. If Shrek hadn't have been battle-worn and as hard as nails then he would have been black and blue with bruises considering the amount of times Colby hit him playfully. And after a while I began to get the Colby Treatment. For no reason at all he would walk past and thump me. Then he'd giggle and walk away. Occasionally he would do it, giggle, and then call me a Crazy Brit. Other times he would waggle his arse at me and call me a Useless Brit. I always ignored him or winked at him. But all those things he did stoked up the warmth of my feelings for him. He was well and truly getting under my skin and at times I found myself looking for him if he went out of sight.


One night when the boys were in bed, Dave let out some of the stuff that had previously been private. Some of it was heart-wrenching stuff and it hit home to me that the small community he cared for had had more than their share of heartaches and troubles. Then he told me some stuff and explained why he loved Colby so much. It was so sad that I very nearly let slip my Brit stiff upper lip. And when I went to bed that night, I held our little boy in my arms and couldn't stop kissing his hair while I held him tight.


**** **** ****


We did some kayaking and went to a couple of rodeos. It was when we were at one that Colby insisted I get a Stetson type hat becauseYou'll look better in one than that stupid Brit flat cap you wear because you like to think you're Tom Waits. (I laughed at his boyish analogy.) So he and Shane had some fun fitting me out in one. Dave didn't help out. The ugly old fart was egging the boys on and laughing when each one I tried on was discarded. By me that is. But there was one particular one that Colby liked on me, so even though it wouldn't have been my choice, I let him have his way and we selected a cattleman crown style one with a thin rattlesnake skin hat band around it... in black because Colby said It will go with your black hair and great tan. Then he made me buy a black shirt with lots of white patterns on it and some black Levis and black cowboy boots. (He wanted me to wear full ones, but I only gave in when I saw a pair of western ankle boots that I liked.) Anyway, I decided that it was time to turn the tables on them and told them I wouldn't have the gear we'd spent ages choosing unless they all had some cowboy gear too. So we spent another hour fitting the three of them out, and when the storekeeper packed up the clothes we'd walked in with, I told Colby to pay for them. The cheeky little sod giggled and held out a hand and said, A fistful of dollars, please! Shane was clutching his crotch because he was laughing so much. So we all walked out looking like something out of a Sergio Leone film. That was fun, and we didn't at all look out of place at the rodeo.


And we even did some hunting. That's where I excelled. Even Shane was spellbound when Dave explained that I was more accurate with a crossbow than he was with a hunting rifle.


We went into three archery shops in Panguitch before I found what I wanted. Dave and Shane and Colby were with me. The young guy in the shop started by asking me what level I was at. I didn't want to sound big-headed, so I asked if he'd got a particular model of an Excalibur. He looked at me and said, "You gotta be the best before you use one of those. How about...?"


That's when Dave intervened. He said, "Jake is the best. He was in British Special Forces and knows how to use one. He gone and done killed a few folk with one when we needed to keep things quiet. Just give him what he wants."


The young man called the owner over and everything went hunky-dory from then on in and I bought what I wanted along with all the gear to do both target shooting and hunting. In fact, me and Dave had our photograph taken with him before we left. Colby was in on it too. The little sod was into everything. I took top-billing on that occasion... he stood in front of me while I had my hands on his small shoulders and Shane was by Dave. (The next time we went into the shop the owner had got a large framed picture displayed of us with the logo: US and British Special Forces with one of our Excaliburs. That made Colby giggle some.)


Of course, that meant that when we got back to Poker Ranch, both Colby and Shane wanted to have a go with it. So I made sure I had a firm hold on them when they had their first few attempts. (That was nice. It was the first time I'd really been in contact with Shane. At first he was a little uncomfortable, but when he realised this was serious stuff and not a time for sexual antics, he loosened up and allowed me to put him right.) So I didn't get a look in for an hour. They were shooting at a range of twenty yards with Lumenok bolts at a target board on an easel that I'd bought along with the Excalibur, so when it was my turn, I told them to carry it away and I'd tell them to stop. Using the range-finder, I let them go to a hundred yards and yelled at them to stop. They ran back and were out of breath and laughing and yelling at me that I'd never hit it at that distance. I winked at them and loaded the weapon. First shot I hit top left of the outer ring of the target and the boys said I was useless. I made some adjustments and tried again. Eight inches top-right of bulls eye. The boys said that was great shooting. I told them it was useless because if it was a real target in battle, then I would have missed. More adjustments and the bolt hit the bulls eye. I knew that, with more practice, I could do the same at two hundred yards, but that was for the next weekend when I'd got my eye in. (And when Colby arrived at Poker Ranch the following weekend, I could hit the bulls eye three times out of five at two hundred and fifty yards.)            


Shane was a permanent fixture at the ranch. Nobody ever volunteered why he was, and I never asked. I took it as a given that something shit had happened in his life and Dave was the safety rope when he fell. But Colby only came at weekends. Usually Friday evenings when his Mom let him go. I knew he was from a one-parent family, so it gave his mother a time out. I did get to meet her a few times. She was nice.  




So, June turned into July and I was getting itchy feet. I could never have become a monk, and I most certainly wasn't celibate. By that time I knew Shane was a definite no-go, and Colby, although he was ready and willing, was out of bounds to my morals. I needed some boytime and I wasn't going to find it in the USA. Because of the seclusive nature of Poker Ranch, I would have done it with Shane had he been willing, but he wasn't. And I most certainly wasn't going to risk my ass `outta town' because of the harsh penalties folk like me get. No way was I going to spend fifty years and more in gaol. I'd already done enough to get me half that because of what went on between me and Colby when we were sleeping together. We'd reached an understanding.    




The understanding. He'd given up asking me to suck his penis. But the boy wasn't going to go without some sort of assisted light relief. So when he went to bed with me (not when he was snuggled into me on the camping trips), he went to bed naked even though he knew I loved to see him in his Superman underpants. Then, while he rubbed his cute bum against my hard dick inside my underpants, he masturbated himself a few times. I would help him out with his partial fantasies by blowing in his ear and kissing the lobe of it. Then he moved onto the next stage when he asked me to play with his nipples while he was jerking off and rubbing himself against me. It was quite a horny experience I can tell you, and at times, because it would have been slam-dunk if I tried, it took all my willpower not to go to town on him and release not only his feelings, but also my own pent-up-to-bursting needs. So I gave him his assisted light relief and then went to the bathroom and took revenge out on myself when he'd gone to sleep.    




Late July and Dave came to me midweek and said Colby had asked if he could go on a camping trip. Then he added that Colby had insisted it was to be only him and me, and he wanted a weekend away in the mountains. I knew what was in the boy's mind. Colby was spending a lot of time at Poker Ranch because school was out because of the holidays and he'd heard me hinting that it would soon be time to mosey on to pastures new. I considered it for a few hours and then told Dave, providing he and his mother had no problems with it, that I would. Dave must have sorted it with his mother because when he told Colby that we would be going, the boy was almost crazy with the fun in him.


But I wasn't. I knew that when we got back I would have to skedaddle out of there. Colby had made his mind up that I was expendable. He had more important things on his mind than my welfare. As much as he cared for me, that damned thing inside his Superman underpants was now in control, and I can absolutely swear to you that a horny boy reaching puberty is more dangerous than a guy with a Kalashnikov.  


To be continued...


You can find my other stories on Nifty here. If you wish to comment on this or any of my other stories, just drop me a line to john.thestoryteller@gmail.com. Genuine comments will be appreciated. All flames will be extinguished in the trash bin.