TRAVELER
Chapter 100

by CARL DICKSON

Our hope is that every homosexual youth in this country can find a home and someone to love them as they are.
No one deserves to be discriminated against, no matter what their differences from society's norm
.

A tidy quote from chapter 137
"titles belong on books, not people" ©Carl Dickson—2007

Does your mother know you're reading this shit?

Warning: This story is PORNO. I have tried my hand at friction, now I'm trying fiction. This story contains vivid descriptions of sexual activity between men and teen boys.
It contains no truth, partial truth, or half truth. What it does contain is stroking material. If this kind of story turns you off, or offends you, please find something else.
The author does not encourage or condone sex between adults and underage children.

If you are underage, or if this is illegal where you are, then please go away. If you're under 18, Adios come back when it is legal for you to read this smut.
If you lied about your age in order to access this story, remember this is our story. Life doesn't always work out like a story.

A strongly worded suggestion has resulted in this statement.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either
are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitioiusly,
and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business
establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Thus said, this story is copyrighted, ©2005-2012. It is therefore illegal to copy or use any part of this story on any other web site without my written permission.


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    I had not reset my watch from New York time and no one caught on to my little ruse. We lined up at the top of a hill and looked down at a long row of tents under the trees and along the edge of the river. It was almost eight o'clock local time as I had Cory sound first a calvary charge from Traveler Too's air horns. As we roared full speed ahead the other two vehicles had their air horns filling the area with the sound of a calvary charge. We sped across the grassy field with the sounds of our huge diesel engines and the bugle calls scaring naked men and boys from the tents in front of us.
    As our doors opened our kids jumped out to be greeted by frightened, but happy faces of some of our best friends. Some of the faces were new to some of my boys, but some of my boys were new to the faces that greeted them.
    Cory synchronized the computers via satellite. All three vehicles sent seventy two tuned air horns into a rousing four minute and ten second midi rendition of Schubert's, (Military March) Marschmilitaer. We had every swinging dick in six hundred miles up and ready to go to war.
    I heard shouting behind me. I turned to see the relations riding naked on their ponies toward us at full gallop. I caught young James Walker as he ducked behind Jimmy in absolute fear. I grabbed the little fellow and lifted him to my shoulder. His body trembled. I passed him to Cory who was busy saying good morning to the relations.
    As things calmed down Cory and a group of boys moved down toward the river. I looked at Jimmy Walker, "Your boy is petrified in fear, man.
    "Oh he thinks that the Indians are going to scalp him. We have been playing him since we left home.
    "I am going to play you, you son of a bitch. You have a seriously scared boy and you are playing him? Jimmy, I have always thought you to be smarter than that. You wouldn't allow one of your students to be teased too fear why do you allow your own son to be?" I was so mad that Pete took me away before I did hit my old friend. I learned later that Billy Pitt and Hamm Bone had been teasing James. My family showed them what we think of someone who teases smaller or weaker boys. That is a form of bullying that I will not allow. I looked at Bull and Dr. Will. I told them straight up to deal with it before I did. They took their boys aside for a real heart to heart. The young pair came to me with red eyes and red stripes on their teenage butts. They wanted to apologize. It is not me that they needed to apologize to. I pointed to the group of boys moving up to Chief Steve's old house and slapped their tender butts, hard. They yelped and took off after the group.
    Cory related their afternoon to me at dinner. Billy and Hamm Bone received some serious Indian torture that was directed by James and his boyfriend, I like to see the kids handle it. I have seldom ever raised my hand against a boy, you have read about those few times here. I will let Bull and Will raise their boys in their own way, but my butt hurt when I looked at their boys' stripes.

    I was actually living the dream that I had a few months before as I lay deep underground in the very mountains around me, it was deja-vu. Everywhere I looked were Judges, congressmen, bankers, church leaders, teachers, policemen, lawyers, men from every walk of life had come in response to an intense e-mail campaign spanning several months. I had gone through Charley's books and invited every name in them, except for those with weird symbols after their names. I was going to ask these men to push laws through their nation's and state's law making bodies to change or add laws to make the kind of people we are suffer harsher punishment if we step over the line.

    I suppose it is a double standard. Sex with an underage child for any reason, at any time is illegal almost everywhere in the world. It is and has been morally wrong from the beginning of time. Yet there are those pediatrists that go too far. Yes, there is the little old man that lives down the street or hangs around the city parks that just wants a taste of young boy spunk and gets caught, woe be to him in today's society. Those men have always been with us, but today's society will no longer tolerate them.
    No, I have my hackles up over those that would use a child. Rapists deserve like treatment, but those that would exploit youth for profit are too contemptible for discussion. I was going to see to it that those people always remember that ill gotten gains at the expense of a child was the wrong way to go.

    I sat high above the action on a thirty foot tower that the boys had erected the second day of the camp out. It sat on the ridge of the hill from which I had launched my calvary charge on Friday morning. There was a nice view of the camp grounds from up there, I had two young spotters on the tower with me and plenty of action below me. With my satellite link and solar powered charger array set up my laptop was humming, I could work without disturbance. I was preparing a business meeting planed for Monday morning as I cleaned and combed each of my ducks then I set them in a row. This had to go right the first time.

    Harry and Toby sent word to me to come to the house. They thought that Jace and Kenny might enjoy dinner with them also. I knew at once what the daring duo had been up too. I left two of the older tribe's boys with binoculars and a radio to their duty. Someone had the right idea to keep lookouts up high. With this many kids who can tell where one of them will get into trouble? We hope nowhere, but we wanted to be prepared. Jimmy and Cory had an idea that I think probably saved us a lot of worry, they had downloaded all of the standard bugle calls into the computer onboard Traveler©. During our drive out from New York I made if very clear to everyone that recall would be sounded every two hours and that every scrotum better be accounted for or it would be mounted on my rear view mirror. Mess call would be played at lunch time and again at dinner then call to quarters would be sounded shortly before sundown. I expected everybody within sight of the tents before dark. Cory reminded them that I am Shoemowetochawcawewahcatowe and unless they they wanted to meet a high backed wolf in the woods that they better be where I can see them, he looked directly at the little ones.

    At six foot one Jace is quite capable of riding a horse by himself. He still needs a few rocks in his pockets for ballast. He eats well, but he can't gain an ounce for trying. The boy is so skinny you can't see him if he turns sideways. He is a stand out if he gets an erection when turned sideways. He looks like a zipper half way up, or down depending on your perspective. Is the glass half full or half empty?
    I gave Kenny a treat and scooped him up as I galloped by. He stood there with his arms outstretched and caught me the first time. I swung him up and let him sit in front of me. I told him not to sit on the saddle horn. It is too hard to get clean afterwards. He and Jace giggled over that one as we raced off toward the large old house by the river where Cory and I had first met Chief Steve.
    There were several horses tied out front and I began to wonder if my thoughts had been correct. Hand prints on the horse's flanks or the saddle blankets made all of the horses those belonging to the tribal chieftains and leaders. Cory's horse was tied nearest to the door.
    Cory met us and led us inside. I greeted each of the chiefs in Ewf—Tsalagi —actual Cherokee name and language— and with the proper hand signs. Talking with the old Chief, second to Chief Steve, was a tall man covered from shoulder to floor in a garment made of jet black feathers. The Tsalagi are not big feather users so this must be a person of exceptional rank. His long black hair hung past his shoulders and was as silky black as the robe he wore. I was anxious to meet this man.
    Cory saw me looking at him. "Dad, you remember your old friend, Kalona." The man turned and I almost lost it. King Khaldun al-Hadi stood before me wearing nothing, but his ever present sunglasses and the robe of Raven's feathers the tribe had presented him with.
    I bowed deep before him. "Nice disguise sire. I would suggest that you loose the shades. They're a dead give away." The man laughed in his deep baritone voice and walked over to embrace me as an old friend.
    "I told the chiefs my uncle's name and they told us that we say it wrong. His name sounds almost like Kalona which is their word for…" Toby started before I cut him off in mid-sentence.
    "Raven. And it is perfect, sire. It fits you well. You have the courage, the speed and the wisdom of the raven. From this day forth you will be known to the tribe as K]n–Kalona (Kaw-low-nah'). May the boys and I call you Raven?" I bowed again.
    "For you, my young friend, anything." Raven handed me his sun glasses. He threw open his robe of feathers to invite his nephews into his arms. Kenny charged the man like a galloping horse, but he was prepared for the bundle of energy and held steady. With Kenny in one arm he pulled Jace close to kiss his cheek. He asked Toby if he was family or a stranger. Toby moved in as I pulled Cory to me for our first kiss of the day.

    The key that started the party was ready to turn a few locks. The Power Guests gathered at a quiet grotto in close to the mountain. A spring sent crystal clear, ice cold water from the solid rock face day in and day out. The relations had prepared the area for me with split logs set in rows for benches to sit on. I stood at the edge of the pool formed by the spring and looked out at the worried faces of nearly two hundred of the world's most influential men. Only you and I know that each one of them had just spent at least one night, and most of them two or three nights, having sex with underage boys.
    My e-mail campaign was a roaring success. Each one of the men had received the complete story of each of the victims living in my house. I showed pictures of these boys at their rock bottom worst. The pictures of a bruised, dirty, and defeated Bryan, kneeling before the huge form of Dimitri's body, no head shot of Dimitri… The background with people and vehicle traffic made it clear that the pair was in an open area of a town, not inside in privacy. The dog collar around Bryan's tiny little neck with the leash being held in that fat, ugly hand, evoked such a cry of rage from those to whom I sent that scene.
    I sent clips from DVD movies of my tiny little Tucson Six to hundreds of names. I did close ups of the faces of the men as they abused these tiny babies. Their stupid leers and lustful expressions spoke much better than any words that I could have used. I could use the faces of those men because they had been convicted of their crimes. Dimitri had not been tried yet so by our civlized law he was innocent until proven guilty in a court of law so I did not show his face.
    I included video clips, with audio, of the interrogations by the police that had just somehow come into my possession. From their own mouths the perpetrators convicted themselves to those at this private jury. We were like a Star Chamber, meting out deep justice. I did not show pictures or evidence of a single person who had not yet been tried and found guilty by an official court of law. We were not there as a kangaroo court, we were there to examine the laws that are already on the books of states and nations around the world on how to deal with these offenders, once incarcerated. And the punishment, or rehabilitation, they should receive during that incarceration.

    Within a matter of weeks of that one meeting, subtle wording was added to various state's ordinances that did not require legislative approval. These changes allowed for special handling of special prisoners. The wording allowed for interstate incarceration of special prisoners. The best wording allowed for my fondest wish.
    Wilbur Franklin had been sentenced to three hundred years for the molestations. He had also been sentenced to death for the murder of Marci Long. In the state of Arizona if a death occurs during the commission of a felony, or because of that felony the first degree murder charges can be filed. There is no statute of limitations on murder, so after sixteen years the man responsible for her demise was made to pay.
    Because of the death sentence Wilbur is now sitting on death row, in a closed solitary cell. Before he would have been in a position to speak to guards and some inmates that may have come in contact with him. As a result of the e-mail campaign he is in solitary with no outside contact except for the guard that opens the small trap door in his cell to pass his food through. One hour a day he is allowed to either shower or step out into an outside area, about the size of a half of a basketball court. Thirty foot tall concrete walls surround all four sides with a single steel door in each wall where one prisoner at a time is allowed in the yard. The top of the small yard is covered in heavy chain link fencing with strands of razor wire woven through it. Because his crime had been part of a sex crime special provisions were made to shorten his appeal process, oh his case would be examined to assure that he had not had his rights stepped on, lord knows that he worried about the rights of his victims when he used their bodies. We had to be absolutely sure that the correct perpetrator was in jail and being punished for crimes that he committed, not someone else. We did not have any DNA evidence to come back and haunt us later, thank goodness.
    I wrote the man to tell him that his little son, Mark, worries about his lack of companionship. I told him that we are doing our level best at providing some human companionship to take care of his sex life, I remember how cock hungry he was in high school. We assured Wilbur that there are many men in the system with really long cocks, some seven to eight inches thick, that have trouble finding anyone that they can get into. We would really like to arrange for several of these men to spend an hour a day with Wilbur just reaching his inner most needs.
    The latest update told us that each evening Wilbur kneels by his door and allows a hood to be placed over his head. Others are allowed to enter his cell and scratch his itch that is getting deeper and deeper as longer and thicker man cocks make use of his services. Wilbur's mouth is often used afterwards to clean up any foreign matter on a friend's phallus, but no climax is allowed. The word is that Wilbur is on a cum free diet so all deposits are to be left at the back door. He should be careful, I understand that HIV infection or even AIDS is a serious concern in those places.

    Richard—Exiter—Jones is serving three hundred and eighty seven years for the molestations and drug charges. He is awaiting trial for the murder of his cell mate in the county jail. His new life will begin when he leaves the security of the county lock up and gets into a nice private cell in the state prison system.

    Peter Farley was sentenced as a dangerous and repetitive predator of young children. He is serving three hundred and eleven years with no possibility of parole in an out of the state prison's solitary confinement cell. He is greatly loved by the greatest lovers. Butt I think that very soon he will feel better as word has started to circulate about his passion for baby boys.

    I really am sorry that Terry Anson hanged himself. He was a victim. Jones kidnaped him and his little mind snapped, he was, but a twelve year old baby at the time. The entire scenario of the six boys being molested was hashed out by his wife, Tiffany, Wilbur had raped her. Her idea of revenge was to molest the child she bore from that rape. She convinced Terry to assist her then they went after the children of Terry's tormenters.
    Tiffany was the proud beneficiary of the new legislation to move certain felons to other states where they had facilities in place to deal with a particular type of criminal. She soon learned how brutal mothers can be against someone who had brutalized her own child. Tiff underwent cosmetic surgery, she had a double mastectomy performed with a rusty lawn mower blade.
    Tiffany turned up missing at head count on a Friday evening. The entire prison was on lock down as the search for an escaped prisoner was conducted. Tiff was found tied to a work table three days later, barely clinging to life. The building she was hiding in was outside the fence, where the lawnmowers and other tools were stored. She was weak from her ordeal and of course the loss of blood. I guess someone was in a hurry and forgot to close the incisions after their makeshift surgery. A sweet nurse tried to clean up the wounds by pouring alcohol directly on them. I have had alcohol poured on my skin, it is cold and causes me to react at the touch. I guess that Tiff reacted too much because they say she went into shock and died within moments.

    Sandy Franklin got the lightest sentence. She will serve fifty years in the same prison where Tiffany was. I hope she is more careful around the lawn mowers.

    Roxanne Farley is just beyond the fence from Sandy. She is serving eighty five years. She won't be editing and copying any DVDs during that time. I met the family of one of her new friends. I have asked Jay Jay and Jeff if they would like to write to momma's new friend and tell them what a wonderful mom she was to them.

    I was so happy that I almost cried. You remember the school teacher Ms. Maxine Snell? She was brought up on federal charges, she was involved in the interstate shipment of child pornography along with the postal inspector. She will finish the slap on the wrist that the state gave her then she reports to federal prison for twenty five years. There's no parole there folksies.

    The postal inspector was caught in his garage with several hundred cans of imported Chinese coffee. Each can contained a two inch ball of black tar heroin. He also had several of the kiddie movies packaged and labeled with equipment to postmark the DVDs from a foreign port. He had been drop shipping the movies for almost five years. The Feds don't mess around, a deal was struck with Captain of Detectives, Shawn Howard so that he could keep his case in tact as the Feds had their own, and to them, more serious charges of drug smuggling for the inspector. I don't have any word on the postman's fate. The feds took him off into Federal Never Never land.
    One of my guests gained my vote as Most Valuable Visitor when he suggested that the international television news network, that he supervised program content for, update the public from time to time with personal interest stories of these special people. He told us that every prison in the country included his network in their closed system rebroadcast line up. He thought that pictures of the detainees and their current location would let the public know that these people were far removed from areas where more children could be harmed. What a guy.

    I won't share this news with my family. They are, after all innocent youngsters. I do gloat inwardly as I ask forgiveness for my feelings of righteous indignation. I just can't imagine how these people can ever be made to feel the pain that they have caused these boys whom I listen to in their incessant nightmares. The boys are having to deal with the horror, and will have to for the rest of their lives. It is not easy to manipulate twelve boys into a counseling session each week without them knowing they are seeing a counselor or letting the others in the house know that those boys are getting counseling.

    As a result of our summer camp out I have more ammunition to use when I go after the big guns of the slave market. These men will face a different form of justice overseas then what they could get under the protection of the Constitution of the United States. Even Rothsfeld and Hildebrand won't be able to scream about their constitutional rights being violated when they are taken into international court to face their charges. I know several of their victims that would love to show these men what the violation of a person's rights can really be.

    Cory and Sarah wanted me for dinner. I know that Cory likes to dine of parts of me, but I wasn't quite sure about inviting Sarah into our private times. The young lady is gracious, she met me at the door with a smile that brightened an already exciting day.
    Of course the first thing I wanted to do was to play with Chrissy. He had already gained four pounds and was looking the perfection of health. I swear that he had his daddy's smile and he actually seemed to giggle when I tickled his little chiny chin chin. Awwww. Cory came up with a bottle and passed it to me. "It's time to feed him and put him down for a nap. I thought that you would like to do that." Faggot, he's setting me up for something.
    I held the baby in my arms and fed him. He stared into my eyes as he nursed the bottle and my heart poured out to him. I have never fed a baby in all of my life, I have held one from time to time, but only for nano seconds. I didn't want to let this boy go, I don't know why, this is Cory's baby boy. Maybe he is an extension of him, something had me entranced.
    "He needs one of those for his own, don't you think?" Cory was holding Sarah close as they both watched me intently.
    "He has the instincts to be good with babies and we know that he is a perfect father. Look at the kind of boy he grows." Sarah was now staring deep into her young husband's eyes.
    The door flew open and a youngster I have seen about the area ran inside. He stopped short and looked at me. "Oops, sorry," he whispered then he tip toed over to Cory and Sarah to tell them, "Mom said she would be ten more minutes." Then he turned and came to sit down next to me. He leaned forward to play with the baby.
    The bottle was empty when Sarah took the bundle of baby boy from me. She lay a small towel over her shoulder and held the baby upright as she gently patted his tiny back. We all listened then giggled as his tiny little burp let us know that all was well and he would sleep comfortably.
    Sarah's mother, another woman by the name of aWaf/Ahwiagina, Fawn—and a young lady by the name of ufGUUgitsiha—joined us for dinner. I speak just enough Ewf—Tsalagi—now to know that her name means Daylight. The youngster had not left my side. He pulled his chair over so that he could eat next to me. I learned that his name is Qd/—Quadini, Rodney in English. His mother is Daylight. I learned that the children are given Christian names at birth, but their spirit names come when the child reveals himself. Rodney had received the name of z/b#lGvnigetsuli, or Black Fox only a few months before.
    Daylight is a granddaughter of Chief Steve. She is Cory's first cousin. Her mother, Fawn, is Steve's daughter, Cory's father's older sister. I knew that Chief Steve had no sons, but no one talked about his three daughters. Young Black Fox is nine years old, his father was killed in a hunting accident the summer that Cory and I came to the tribe in 2004. I know when I am being set up.
    Daylight is twenty one. Her time of mourning is long past and she needs a husband. Her father was Sarah's uncle making her Sarah's first cousin. The girls have been close all of Sarah's life. I learned that Sarah in Ewf is Af—Sagi. Sagi and her mother have decided that I should marry Daylight and give the tribe a direct infusion of my blood. I am too far removed from the blood line and it is time to reconnect to my history, they say.
    Rodney proved his spirit name. He is smart like the fox, but has the exceptional strength of the black fox. He sat in my lap after dinner and told me all of the reasons why he should be my son. He told me all of the reasons why his mother should be my wife.
    Fawn was silent until time to go home. She rose and came to me, she told me that she accepted me as the husband of her daughter and that she would go home and make our wedding garments. She told me that the Waya and the Gynigetsul get along well in the wild. She was sure that I would make the boy a strong warrior. She spoke to Cory and the others in Tsalagi then left.
    I asked Cory if he would tell me what they had planned for my life. "Daddy, the chiefs told you that they want your son in our tribe. Grandfather told you that you should take a squaw bride. Prophecy has seen that you will bring new blood to the tribe through your son. Daylight is of the blood of Chief Steve. Your blood is of Christopher Stevens. Your son would be very powerful and could be chief of all of the tribes someday.

    I let Cory take me to the mountainside where we could lay under the starlit canopy and discuss matters. We got a couple of things straight between us and it was decided that I should spend some time with Daylight. However I had to remind Cory of our numerous guests gathered in the fields below us and of my obligation to them. He told me to straighten up and we would work on it for awhile longer.

    I wanted Koch, not any old cock, but Koch cock. I cornered Isaac and Randy as they walked in deep discussion with one another. It is good to see a father and son share with each other and Randy has a lot on his plate since his two tours in Iraq. I was not able to spend much time with my old buddy when he came to the wedding in New York, but I was going to spend a bit of time with him now. Robby ran up to his dad with a question about their dinner plans and I asked him to sit down with me for a few minutes and recall our childhood. The four of us shared stories that drew tears, laughter, and love as we began to see clearly how much we have been intertwined in each other's lives.
    I was concerned about my oldest friend, well at least the oldest one still around. I've mentioned before that I lived to the east side of the Kochs, I still own my old family home which I have been remodeling for my young swim team. The Koch's house had a door from their driveway into the basement of their house where the Blues club met as often as the teenage members got horny. In other words, everyday.
    Isaac Koch had let Charley stay with the family while he built his house, which is now mine, on the mountainside. It was Charley that turned me into one cock sucking, butt fucking, cum hungry fag boy in that basement. Randy and I got it on pretty often, even more so after Tiny moved away. I only had two real loves in my life before I met Cory. Manny was the best friend a kid could have, but he died on his tenth birthday. Tiny had become my best friend and when I learned about boy sex I fucked his little ass raw. I was devastated when his father had to move him away from me.
    Randy was a fourteen year old freshman when he invited me over to his house for an education like no other. My dad had purchased my childhood home because of the large swimming pool in the back yard. I learned to swim when I was not yet old enough to walk and I have always swam in the nude. Randy and his little brother, Robby, used to climb up in their tree house so that they could watch me swim. Manny and I used to get the two boys to join us as we played in the pool during the warm Tucson summer days.
    From my earliest memories of Randy he had been fascinated by my cock. He was almost two years younger than me or Manny and little Robby was a year and a half younger than him, but I caught them many times as they would both stand and stare at my goods. I heard them compare me and Manny and even each other. I have no idea what I had in the boyhood department at ten years of age. For some reason it never occurred to me to check. Even Manny and I never played that game with each other.
    All of that changed one night in August of 1993 when old Charley made Randy and me suck each other's cock. I had sucked Charley first and liked it, but he wanted us to do each other. Before the night was over Randy and I had both been fucked in the ass by Charley and each other. I became a sex fiend, craving sex with any male big enough to feed me cum and stroke my prostate with a wide stretchy member.

    Robby told me how proud he was to know me and how he and the other Blues Clubbers used to drool over my diving prowess and beautiful body. He reddened as he told me that I was his first masturbation fantasy and that even after he started having regular sex with Stevie he still dreamed of me. He told me that when I fucked him he would not even want to shit, he wanted to keep my seed inside of him. I pulled him close and shared a long, heart felt kiss with him.
    The Koch boys have grown to be swarthy, dark haired men. I mean hair, hair everywhere, can you say bear? Randy is in love with Sven. He has a military mind and Sven runs his house in a military fashion. Sven has many young Marines that have serious rectal itch come around and while Randy is in love with Sven he still likes a smooth skinned boy with a hot load of juice as often as he can get it. I asked him if he was doing any of the boys during our time in the woods. He had been with all of the sons of the Blues Clubbers and several of my family. He had also showed some of the relations what a Jew boy can do to a red skinned Indian. I asked how many of them came back for more and he told me all of them.
    I told Isaac that I was going to let some of my boys move into my house. Pete is on the university dive team. Tim, Jerry, and Sandy are all divers so they can use the pool's best asset. Isaac was glad that someone would be in the house. He told me that the crime rate had gone up in the neighborhood and that there have been many break ins as well as a home invasion in the area. I knew about the home invasion, the home owner is in jail for murder after he killed an eighteen year old kid that had kicked in his front door and pointed a gun at him. Sometimes I wonder what goes on in the minds of our law makers when a man can not even defend his family inside his own house.
    Robby asked me how Tim was going to be able to use the diving boards. Isaac told him that he should get out of Stevie's bed and come visit more often. Robby quipped that if he were to go visit then he would only find his dad in bed with Stevie's dad, Mike. We all laughed at that, then Robby asked his dad point blank who the top was. Isaac looked his son in the eye and told him straight up, "I give as well as take. We don't have roles in our house. We love each other completely. With the exception of you two I feel that my marriage was a total waste of time." That brought the three of them into a hug. They then included me in their touchy feelly before Robby invited me to scratch his ass.

    We found Stevie waiting nearby with blankets and sandwiches for their planned picnic and fuck in the woods. Mark was leaning against a nearby tree with a sad look on his face so I asked him to join us. Most anybody knows that sometimes we have to ask what was going in this person's mind or that one's idiot brain. Very shortly I was asking myself that very question about myself. When I fuck up I do it in spades on Broadway.
    Twenty nine year old Robby has turned into a very good looking grown man, but I will forever remember those nights in the Koch suckers basement as we explored the finer parts of boy life. Stevie turned twenty eight just a few weeks earlier, but he is still a small blond boy. If opposites attract here is a good example, dark and swarthy vs. soft and blond. Stevie was riding Mark's cock and screaming his joy for a half of the state to hear. I was looking forward to fucking the boy again, boy, he is twenty eight, but he looks fifteen. Another Timmy Tuttle, but much softer, even more boy like.
    Robby and I were laying beside each other as Mark made his final thrusts and Stevie fired a load into orbit, at least it landed in the dead leaves on the ground a good foot behind his head. He had his arms around Mark and was crying. Mark was kissing his face as he cried. "Thank you so much. I know now that I have forgiven him.
    "You did it, babe. I am so proud of you. Mark, thank you, thank you from the bottom of our hearts. If there is anything we can do for you please feel free to come by the house. Bring your friends or come alone, you are always welcome," Robby said.
    "What he says, dude. I would like to get to know who you are. I feel that we have a weird kind of connection." Bingo, the dumb old man woke up. Mark is Wilbur Franklin's love child from rape. Wilbur also raped Stevie and his sister, Marcy that same week. I can't believe that I dragged up these old wounds. Of course Stevie would have a lot of resentment toward Mark, just because of who he is. I needed to keep still and listen.
    "Stevie has been anxious all week, ever since he figured out who Mark is. He has carried a lot of hatred in his heart for fifteen years, ever since Wilbur raped him and Marcy and made them watch him with the other. Stevie has cried as he wondered how he would be able to confront Wilbur's sons. I guess there is one more here that we need to get with but, Stevie, I am so proud of you.
    "I want to thank you. I have wanted to come to you and apologize, but I was sure you would hate me," Mark told them.
    "Mark, you don't owe me an apology. You were not even born when that happened. In fact I think that he raped your mother after he raped me so you weren't even in the oven yet." That got a round of giggles. I started to get up and leave them to talk amongst themselves, but Stevie told me to get my ass down, it was his turn to get his golden pole pin. I told him that he had earned that fifteen years earlier. He wanted to renew his membership. Cory rode up on a horse with Steven behind him as I did my duty and my pleasure. He giggled at us and I told him that they were witnesses along with Mark so he needed to give out a couple of pins.

So there you have it. Is your friction enhanced by my fiction?
Tell me about it at fisherman@iname.com
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