Date: 9 May 2000 08:33:04 -0700 From: poondu@members.gayweb.com Subject: Fat Boy in the Desert Fat Boy in the Desert by Thole Over the past few days I have been shovelling adobe mud out of the toilet and shower facility at this Creosote Bush Campground. After a morning of shoveling I do an afternoon of mowing. In between I take a nap and a walk after lunch. Sometimes I take a walk after supper. I'm working and walking nude of course, and napping nude too for that matter. Even on the crowded weekends this place is so big I can go anywhere I want. Mostly I've been carrying my pareu when I walk, it comes in handy for a pillow when I nap, but this evening, after shovelling and mowing without it nearby, I decided to go for a walk without it. This was the second walk of this day, I'll tell you about the first one maybe in my next letter. So, just me and sandals, out the access road and through the gate, across the street, into the scrub. I am getting bold. Like a young deer, or a young boy, without a care. I know I will not get caught and besides, nobody can see me when I'm nude; my skin is almost the same colour as the rock. I must have been out for half an hour and was totally at peace, walking slowly along horse trails and dry stream beds, thinking about my day, what I'm going to show you, where I'll go next. I was in a deep narrow gully of sharp turns and undercut walls; one of those dry streams that quickly and quietly become a raging torrent when a thunderstorm passes by on the range twenty miles away. Boulders made the going difficult, not only the ones I had to climb over but also the ones jutting out from the walls that were just waiting to fall and squish me flat. It was coming out from under one such projection, and rounding a corner from shadow into sun, that I looked up into a camera just as the shutter clicked, the motor whirred, and the film ejected. The fat hand that caught it was attached to a fat boy, easily twice my weight and the same height. (Incidently, I'm down to 132 right now--about the same as when I got out of highschool.) Our conversation was swift and to the point. The boy had seen me earlier, when I was momentarily exposed passing some outcropping higher up and had patiently waited in just the right spot for this encounter. He was expecting to blackmail me with that picture into sucking him off right there on the trail. When I made it clear to him that it mattered not who knew I was hiking nude he changed his tact and said that if I didn't suck him he would start screaming that I was trying to rape him and his friends would hear and come running to his rescue. And besides, he said, I can tell by the looks of you that you want to suck me anyhow. I would have opted for a smaller boy, a thinner one, maybe a younger one, but he was right, I was desperate. He was thirteen and in his circle of friends the only one not of the in crowd. They had some weird club where the initiation was that you had to get a man to suck you off. I was on my knees now, working the elastic waist band of his shorts off over his fat rump. He had on no underwear and his circumcised penis was nearly lost between the folds of belly blubber and his hairless balls. He grabbed at my head and pulled himself into my mouth. The day had already cooled somewhat and the air was very dry so he was not sweaty at all and not unpleasant smelling. I took a deep breath and commenced to provide the excitement we each craved. Usually one or more of the others of his club would observe this rite in secret but he had his camera. He was moaning between words as he explained all this and went on about how the others would never believe how he had met this naked man on the trail. Then he let go of my head and held the camera out so as to capture the proof he needed. -30-