TRAVELER
Chapter 127

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.


You may download the CHEROKEE TONT for free at this link. Dowload it, install it, then enjoy seeing the TSAIAGI names in this story. This font is included in the full version Send an e-mail for it.
    Eagle ears Jimmy seemed to be clued in on something. An especially heavy rainstorm, the night before had been the first time since the granite house had been occupied that we had any rain at all. "Dad, I heard a waterfall last night. I'm not kidding, it sounded like water falling a long way and hitting rock then a deep pool, it lasted long after the rain stopped," Jimmy told me.
    I asked the other boys if they heard it, all of the boys in Jim's room had and some of the boys in the room next to theirs had. Mitchell told me that when he and Edmund had gone to the kitchen to bake the biscuits and breads for the day that Edmund had mentioned that he heard water hitting rock, they just figured that it was runoff from the drenching that we had gotten overnight, I wasn't convinced. We started a search and all of us seemed to lock in on the large fountain in the front entry vestibule.
    After finding no apparent source for the water I thought that I better call for someone to come check the house, which was not something that I looked forward too. I don't like any outsiders in my house when my boys are around, I don't want anyone else to perv on what is mine alone. Nearly every Saturday morning Andy and Kyle join us for breakfast; Kyle goes to school with the rest of his brothers so we see him daily. Saturdays is the time for Andy and I to sit back and perv as we drink our coffee before we go to church and confess our sins before God.
    "Wait a minute, what time is it? I have an idea," Andy asked for me to join him in my office. I had not taken time to refill my coffee cup, but entering my office I could tell that my main man, Cory, had taken care of me by making a fresh pot of my favorite dark beverage in the unique pot he had given me the past Christmas.
    Andy asked permission so I stepped back to allow him access to my computers. In a few moments he had a "live" picture filling my full wall size display of computer monitors. He was punching in coordinates and the camera angle slowly changed, I could tell that he was aiming a satellite camera at our area. I watched as the screen filled with a picture of my houses then the picture changed to a strange image.
    He was pounding on the computer keyboard as the image began to take a new shape then the satellite had passed over and the picture faded away. Andy kept at his work until I realized that he had just "x-rayed" all of my property, from a satellite 185 miles up in space. He kept working until he had a clear image of the granite house and what was not underneath it, there was not a solid granite foundation under it, but a large cavern filled with water. The strange part was that the cavern appeared to be square shaped with straight sides.
    He made a phone call and told the other party to be on site at o ten hundred, prompt. I was still looking at the display and asked him how sensitive the satellite was. He wanted to know what I wanted to know. I shared with him a thought that had been in my mind. He told me not to look while his fingers raced over the keyboard, as if I could make out a single letter as he typed. "Don't even think about looking at this picture that I am taking from the great grandson of the old KH11-1 spy satellite sometimes called 'Crystal'. The next generation KH11-10 could see through 10 meters of solid ground, this baby can see a lot deeper than that, but there is what you want to know."
    I looked at a picture of my property splashed across my seven foot by five foot screen array, my thoughts were confirmed. The image showed the wide lawn along the west side of my house to be exactly what old Charley had told me it was, a solid granite outcropping two hundred feet thick. My heart began to beat with excitement, Andy began to laugh as he watched me salivate. "Do you think that it will be possible?" I asked him.
    "It's almost ten o'clock, you go on to church while these guys work then we will find out what you want to know." I headed up to my room to dress then came down at ten fifteen. Sitting in the drive of the granite house was a truck loaded with strange looking equipment. Andy handed the foreman pictures that he had printed out from the computer. I opened the two large front doors to granite house so that their wide system could pass through the eight foot wide and twelve foot tall opening. The unit that was wheeled in stood about six feet tall, but it was over five feet wide.
    I left the house to head down the road for our Sabbath morning services. I should have gone with the boys earlier for Sabbath School classes, but I was anxious to see what the source of the water was. Still I wanted to stay home, but I had obligations to my boys and a promise of faithfulness to my Lord to keep.

    We had both of the babies, and their mothers, join us for church services across the street at our new church/school property. Also joining us were the Adams and Garcia families as well as their babies. All four babies were royally treated by the youngsters as the older boys joined the congregation to decide what we wanted to do with our church as far as a pastor was concerned.
    In the few short weeks prior we had invited an official from the area conference of Seventh Day Adventists to visit with us and explain their church's views to us. We quickly concluded our meeting and filled our guest with lunch before packing him up and sending him on his way.
    Other weeks we had invited a representative of the World Wide Church of God to visit and the week before that we asked a Seventh Day Baptist pastor to speak to us. We know where we want our open forum church to go, but we have prayed and promised God that we would explore all of the avenues that he presented to us. One thing all of us were certain about, we would keep the Biblical Sabbath, not the pope's day.
    We searched diligently for a denomination to fall in line with, but we could not find any that adhered strictly to the Bible and its tenets, save the SDAs and they were just too homophobic for us. In only five weeks we have gathered three hundred families from around our town into our little church and, to our knowledge, only two of the couples attending are gay.
    We have been overwhelmed by the support that our family has received from the entire congregation, but I was blown away one recent Sabbath morning when I was handed a survey as I entered the church for Sabbath School. We were asked to fill out the survey at the beginning of our Sabbath School class and to pass it down to be collected and placed by the door, a half hour later Art stuck his head in and gathered the papers then left.
    I suppose that by definition we more closely identify with the format of a celebration church with a very loud live band and overhead screens with the words of our songs displayed for everybody to sing along. I would have to venture that more than ninety eight percent of the churches that I have ever visited, or even talked to others about, do not like this practice. They believe it is wrong to have drums and guitars in the sanctuary, their loss actually. I know that heart felt singing before the service begins seems to set the mood and I totally believe that the Holy Spirit, Himself, descends on our service and He brings an entire Host of Holy angels with Him to minister to the hearts of those at worship.
    When we entered the sanctuary for that morning's worship the twenty foot plasma TV array to each side of the Diaz and pulpit area displayed each of the questions from the survey and a number following it. There were only ten items on the survey and to the right of all of the items, except one, was a 100. That item had struck a nerve with me, in light of the fact that I had three legally married couples, it concerned marriage. It stated that marriage should be limited to a man and a woman. To the right of that item was a big fat zero, nobody in our entire congregation had checked the yes box next to that question. It was a warm fuzzy moment for all of us.
    Cas delivered a fine sermon for us then we dismissed to the fellowship of a community lunch. I was surprised at the turnout then I saw the tables full of food and realized that something was afoot of which I was not aware. Every man, woman, and child that attended this church for the past three months was in one room, along with more food than we would be able to eat. Total silence fell over the crowd. A thirteen year old boy stood before the long table full of food with his father behind him. The boy was shaking and tears rolled down his face as his father gripped his shoulders in a supportive fashion.
    "My name is Terrence Falon, I am thirteen and I am…" he looked up at his father who smiled down at his son. "gay. My dad and I talked all night long and we want to talk to all of you." Terry's two older brothers walked up and embraced the little guy in a warm hug. "We sorta know what is going on with all you guys," he nodded at some of the tables where my boys were seated in groups, some of my boys with some of the other church youth. "I think that I am not the only gay kid here, I hope not. Don't get me wrong, I am not trying to come on to anybody, oh no. I just want to be normal…"
    The boy started to cry so I knelt before him, "Listen to me Terrence, you are as normal as any kid in the world. The main problem with the world is that everybody thinks that there should be a little pigeon hole or a box into which they can put everybody else. All of us have ideas of what other people should be. You say that you are gay, but I bet that if we sat down and talked then you would not be able to tell me what a gay guy is. You have your idea of life and you are trying to put yourself in a box of your own design. Don't do it. Don't put limits on your own growth. If you are in fact gay then let it help you to grow. You are thirteen, you have a lot of growing up to do. When you are sixteen or seventeen and tell me that you are gay then I will be more inclined to believe you, but even then I will need to talk to you awhile before I will accept your personal assessment of yourself."
    "I'm seventeen and I am gay," Terrence's brother Murray told me. I told him that we would have to talk before I would believe him. The boys' father hugged me with a tear in his eye. There is something going on with these guys, but I don't know if they will want to share it with me.
    Mr. Falon picked up the lead and talked to the congregation. He told us that he had never attended a church where he felt so much love and acceptance. He had been a member of the church that I bought the land from for five years, but he said that now he felt that what that church had tried to become, we were. He talked about how he was treated by his former church when his wife left him with three small boys to raise by himself. He said he was treated as the bad guy, but he was the one deserted. He found this congregation through a friend and he said that it was the greatest discovery of his life.
    He had a chart that he and his boys had prepared that showed, with graphics, what he was seeking in a church. He was not the only one with a chart, nine other families stood up with their charts. The one repeating theme that all of them had listed was love and acceptance. Everyone of them was seeking a church that preached the Bible, from the Bible. None of this bunch liked to go into a church and hear about the pastor's golf game or some simple homily about day to day life, everyone of us wanted to hear the Word of the Lord, but more than hear about it we wanted to be able to follow along and read the Word as the preacher walked us through, one idea after another.
    One single statement was iterated and reiterated many times, nobody came to be put down. Each and every person present knew that they were sinners, or more correctly S I Ts, saints in training. Each one of us knows full well that Paul taught that "… all have sinned and come short of the Glory of God," (Rom 3:23 KJV), but we also know that forgiveness comes to those that seek His face. A little hellfire and brimstone preaching might be needed from time to time, but not constantly. We needed to hear more about the Character of God and His loving Grace than we needed to hear about the wrath of God. Those that love God with all of their heart and seek His face have no fear of His wrath.
    I was very happy to see that every chart stated that the family presenting their ideas wanted the entire Bible taught. Dispensationalism has become common place in most churches, but there is no old dispensation or new dispensation taught in the Bible. The Old Testament is just a necessary in today's world as the New Testament and I don't like to listen to anyone who tells me that the Old Testament is dead, that is a lie of the devil.
    This group believes that even the little children can teach us the way's of the Lord and wanted to include children, old enough to participate. Children would be encouraged to serve in our regular worship service as ushers, Bible verse readers, or any other capacity that was fitting to the day's program. That excited some of my boys who aspired to the pulpit as their life's goal. We learned that there was no animosity in the hearts of anyone, that all were filled with love and compassion.
    Cory decided to take it up a notch as he and Jimmy stood up as our family's spokesmen. Cory told how he was the son of a crack whore who sold his body to men for sex so that she could have food for him to eat. Jim told how he was orphaned then abandoned because he was being a boy taking matters in hand. Christopher had to tell how he was abandoned on a deserted highway in the high plains of America, during a blizzard. I reminded him that he was still in church and should not embellish too much.
    Bryan took me by the hand and led me to the front of the room. He pulled up a small stool that we kept in the restroom for the little guys to reach the sink to wash their hands for lunch, that stool put him just a bit above my eye level. Bryan pulled no punches whatsoever as he told how he escaped his foster home to become a kept boy then his kidnaping and subsequent trip into homosexual slavery. He put his arm around my neck and told how I beat his captor down on the streets of St. Tropez. I had to remind him that it was Cory that had found him and called me, but he somberly told our audience that it was still me that did the actual rescue and then gave him a home that he will never leave, even if he lives to be a hundred and fifty years old.
    I was afraid that we were getting a bit far afield with the boys' war stories when Salman stepped up and sent us all into tears. All of the rescuees from Romania told of their imprisonment and mistreatment. I was glad that they did not tell of the cannibalism, that would be a bit much in any setting. My family sat and stared at me because I had not shared with them what these boys had been through and nobody had taken it upon himself to tell the story before this time. It was when Salman told us that he was ready to die and the angel of God came down to him and told him that his prayers had been heard. Sal was told that he would see the love that God had for him, he said that I walked into his cell and lifted him up at that very instant.
    He told how I carried him through the cold stone corridors to safety and held him as I fed him the first food that he had tasted in many, many days. He told everybody that God talked to him as he lay in my arms and told him that he was not going to die, he was told that he had a mighty work to do in the name of the Lord, that he was to learn the Word and hide it in his heart to share when the time came. With that Sal began to recite the entire book of John, in perfect English, with no accent and without missing a single word, even down to the punctuation marks that have been added in translations from the original Greek language in which it was written.
    No one in the fellowship hall moved, with the exception of the younger children who gathered about Sal's feet and looked up at him as if to hang on his every word. As Sal finished I looked about to see everybody in the room holding another close. Men were holding men, women were holding women. Son's were holding fathers and daughters mothers. Strangers were holding each other as love filled the room.
    A song that Cory had written filled the air,

"Here I am,
safe in the arms of God.
Feeling His goodness and love
as its poured out on me.
Here I am,
knowing His majesty,
knowing I'm loved and safe,
for all eternity.

I can face the greatest trials,
I can look death in the eye.
For I know that He is in me
and that I am by His side.

Here I am,
my path is lit by His love.
Never shall I stray away,
till I see His face.
Here I am,
safe in the arms of God
where I'll stay,
where I'll be,
for all eternity."

    The Glory of God came down upon us that day and we built a church to that Glory that will reign in love till the very day that He comes in the clouds to take us home.

    "Sir, when will our applications for admission to this school be approved?" This question came from a tall boy named Arnie.
    "Arnie what grade are you in?" I asked him.
    "I'm a junior, sir."
    "You're sixteen and a junior, I take it that you are pretty smart." He puffed up his chest and told me that he was a B student. "All of our juniors are straight As, can you work to raise your grade?" His eyes faltered, but he maintained his posture and nodded at me. "The name of this school is Bradford Academy West, do you know where Bradford Academy East is?" He didn't. I asked him if he knew the common nickname of the school
    "I heard some of the guys in Sabbath School call it BAG Boys, but I don't know what that means and they won't tell me."
    "BAG Boys east is in upper state New York. The full name of the school is Bradford Academy for Gay Boys. Mr. Bingham, there, gave it the moniker BAG Boys." Luke took a bow. Mr. Bingham is a member of the school board, both for that campus and this one. His husband, Mr. Hodges who is seated next to him, is also a board member. Mr. Adams, over there, is the Vice President and his boyfriend is the secretary." There were several gasps about the room as heads turned in all directions to look at those that I had pointed out.
    "Mr. Adams, how old were you when you were elected vice president of a school for gay boys?"
    "Fifteen and a half sir, just over two years ago."
    "Mr. Garcia?"
    "At the same time, sir, but I was sixteen."
    "Mr. Hodges, how old were you?"
    "Eighteen, sir, and I was no longer in school, but was working at the academy as a student instructor."
    "Mr. Bingham?"
    "I was eighteen also, sir, and working at the school."
    "How did you learn of the school?"
    "Brad's dad owns the land next to the school and we were up there at the cabin swimming and enjoying our summer. When we met some of the kids that go to school there."
    "What did you think of working at a gay school?"
    "When we saw those kids and heard their stories we could not have not worked to help them. They never knew love and never had anyone to help them."
    "Like you are helping Cal and Thom?" another boy asked.
    "What is your name, please?"
    "Bert, sir, I am in their Sabbath School class and they told us last week that they were wards of the state 'cause they're queer, but now they live with you."
    "What do you think of that?"
    "I think that it is kewl that they gotta place to live."
    "I mean about them being…"
    "Queer?" He cut me off before I could finish. "I don't mind. My best friend is a cock sucker…" suddenly he looked at his mother.
    "And we think he is a great kid, we don't judge anybody in our house," she said as she put her arm around Bert.
    "So, Arnie, now you know what the school is and who attends do you still want to attend?"
    "Even more so, sir." His father looked at him as his eyes widened then he let his breath out and looked at me. "Dad, I don't know if I am gay like them or not, but I don't hate gays. I got kicked out of school last year for helping that one kid that was getting picked on. I am still virgin, but I think about things, you know?" His father placed his hand over Arnie's hand and they shared a look.
    "Church, I have twelve applications on my desk for admission to this school. I don't know what to do with them. Today has been an eye opener for some of you, well, probably for a lot of you. All of the boys at Bradford Academy West are gay at this point in their young lives. Some, not most, of them will grow out of this, only time will tell. Until that time I will give them a nurturing home in which to grow. In my home are eighty boys that I have found all over this country. Each of them have a tragic tale of abuse and suffering to tell, they have all been with me for more than a year.
    "This past summer I took a trip to Europe and returned with forty seven more boys that lived in the worst possible conditions because of their sexuality. A year ago next month the state came to me and asked me to provide a home for twenty boys that they could not find a home for, I erred with those boys in that I did not give them a home at once. Some of those boys live with us now and we are very glad to have each and everyone of them. My regret is not taking in the six boys that have since gone on in life and met with trouble.
    "If those young men that have submitted applications to this Academy would still like to attend they need only let me know, preferably in writing. I also want to know that your parents agree to your attendance. Those still wanting to attend will be able to start to school at once, as soon as Monday."
    "Will you take more applications, sir." I looked to see a boy with wide eyes staring at his dad and wearing a broad smile, "We think, that is my wife and I think that Clay would do well in your school and we will talk to Glen's mother too. Glen is Clay's closest friend, but we may need to help with his tuition." A bright idea moved through my head.
    "I want to voice something, but I do not want any discussion on this today. I want all of you to think about what I say and maybe talk it over at home and maybe even with each other. I just told you that I have forty seven young men from overseas that have no idea how Americans live. I also have twenty young men from the state that have never had a normal home. Even some of my original eighty boys have not had a normal nurturing home. I am toying with the idea of these boys visiting other homes and seeing for themselves how the other half lives. Their visits could be for a few hours, a meal, or maybe even overnight. These things would depend on the host. I would entertain visits to single parent homes as well as married couples. I don't know if we have any domestic partnerships here, but that could be good too. I only want you to remember that all of my boys are gay. You may be reticent if you have boys in your home and that is understandable, however, in defense of my boys, I do not believe that your boys would be in any danger. So far none of my boys has ever approached anyone who had any objection to being approached." At least I hope that is the case, some might have been approached, but I have to believe that I have beat it into these kid's heads that no means no.

    I have no experience with ground penetrating radar so I was impressed with the results that Andy had to show me when I returned from my long day at church. Buried under layers of clay tile and twelve inches of solid granite in the front vestibule was a very old staircase that led downwards into a cavern some twenty feet below mean ground level. The radar images showed the cavern to be a rectangle of roughly one hundred and twenty five feet east to west, by one hundred feet north to south. I put in a call to Bill to ask him if he could bring his jack hammer up and a crew to operate it. He told me that he would be here at seven Sunday morning, I told him to be prepared to be attacked by a hundred and forty naked boys, he asked if he could call the TV stations and have it put on the news; "News flash: construction crew assaulted by nude horde; details at six."

    With the radar images in hand Bill and his crew got out their pick axes and tackled the minor job by hand early Sunday morning. Ten minutes later they had an air hose running through the front door to their noisy jack hammer. A half an hour later they had cut through nine inches of solid granite to reveal a thick steel shank inserted into a slot in the side of the granite floor, a hard push on the shank caused a clunk sound in the west wall of the vestibule. Bill used a hammer to bang around the source of the noise and found a lever that had long ago been plastered over. One pull on the lever withdrew the shank and a perfectly counterbalanced slab of granite, four foot wide and ten feet long and twelve inches thick, silently rose on its hinges against the south wall to reveal a rotted stairway leading down to a large pool of water. The stench of stagnant water filled the air as Edmund and I both realized where our bad smell had been coming from.
    I committed on the sheer luck of Bill working in the exact spot where the lever was. Bill shook his head at me and showed me the radar image, the steel locking shank was clearly visible. Bill had known exactly where to start his work. I knew that I should shut up.
    A quick look at the wooden steps guaranteed that no one would be using them, the dry rot and insect damage was intense. Two large submersible pumps were lowered into the opening with hoses running out to the side of the house to drain down the arroyo around the base rocks of the three bungalows between the granite house and the mountainside house.
    Bill brought in thirty foot fiberglass extension ladders to set down in the hole then he and another man climbed down for a look around. They were both back in a few moments to report that the water was over three feet deep and had been higher at one time or another according to high water marks on the wall. I asked them if they could see about the area to know what its use was. Bill told me that he saw about two feet of the top of rows and rows of, what appeared to be, wine racks, he said it looked like the largest wine cellar that he had ever heard of. He said that the racks were probably five feet tall judging by the depth of the water where he had measured it. Andy and I both looked at each other, neither of us like wine, but we wondered if just maybe there might be some old bottles that some collector somewhere might want.
    I felt at the time that this was more important than the work at βφτ house. I asked Bill to devote all of his efforts to draining the water from beneath granite house and then we would decide the best course of action. I would let John and his crew finish the work on the bathroom for the basement, but anything more than that would have to wait. He told me that he was really glad that Ron had the new building roofed and everything water tight before the rains came Friday night, "That whole house would have flooded and it would be that basement that we would be pumping out.
    Ron was still hard at work to finish the remodel of the old pool house, that alone would give me nine new bedrooms. Derrick, Darryl, and Damien were sleeping at the mountainside house for the weekend because Ron had torn out all of the inside walls of the old pool house. He called me and told me that the area that had been used as a kitchen prep area could be incorporated into two bedrooms downstairs with a shared bathroom between two rooms. He told me that he would have to do little more than to move a few walls around, but he did not want anyone in the building until the walls were back up.
    There would be no hallway in the new addition, rather each room would open out onto the balcony, or porch down stairs, he would build a solid half wall so that neighbors would not see naked boys running back and forth. So much for Mike and Isaac being able to have a boy show over their breakfast each morning. With those nine bedrooms and the six in the main house I could house thirty boys comfortably. Four boys would have to remain in the Koch's guest awhile longer.

    The crew chief from the radar imaging company drove up. He gave Andy their second report from the survey that they had been doing to the westside of the house early that morning. He told us that he would have it certified so that any contractor would feel safe going into the solid rock under my house and doing the work that I had in mind.
    The two houses sit on a little bump measuring approximately four hundred feet wide, from east to west, along the leading edge of a giant slab of laramide granite. The overall width of the laramide runs roughly six miles, north to south and over nine miles from east to west, all the way along the front edge at the base of Catalina Mountain range. This slab was formed by molten lava that sat a few hundred feet below the surface of the earth then slowly turned into granite stone as it cooled. Geological forces sent it upwards to form the mountains on which I live. The tall cliff along the south and west sides of my house and granite house is the front edge of this slab of stone that extends deep underground for some three hundred feet or more.
    Two hundred feet back from the south edge of my property this lamaride period lava flow widens out then runs down the hill, completely under the church/school property. Without further tests their survey estimated the slabs thickness at about six hundred feet, the limit of their portable equipment.
    I asked the radar chief about the two boulders that I had built my three bungalows on, I had always assumed that they were just large boulders cast down when the mountain range emerged from the ground. That was not so. The two boulders are actually a part of the large laramide flow itself. A crack in the surface of the old flow is located a half a mile up the mountainside and over time water has cleared a natural arroyo down and across my property exposing these two tits and the hollow in which my house is built. They are as solid as the bedrock on which all of my property is built.
Laramide Orogeny
    Late in the Mesozoic Era, the ancient Pacific Plate subducted under the North American Plate, extensive volcanic activity and mountain building occurred in the area. This event is known as the Laramide Orogeny. These volcanic rocks form a majority of the rocks which compose the Tucson Mountains to the west. During and following this volcanic period, masses of granite were implaced 5 to 8 miles below the surface and slowly cooled.
    Following the detachment of the upper plate rocks, which incidentally is responsible for the location of the Tucson Mountains (before detachment they were located further east of the present Rincon Mountains), stresses relaxed.
    The entire southwestern portion of the United States became stretched as the Pacific Plate began to pull away from and shear past the North American Plate, between 10-20 MYA. The extension of this area produced block faulting, where many blocks separated from other blocks along steep normal faults producing basins.
    The Catalina Mountains and the Tucson Mountains expansion block fell and the resulting valley filled with sediments Approximately 20-30 MYA*, the Earth's Crust in this region was stretched and sheared in a northeast to southwest direction. As arching continued, a huge slab of rock broke loose and slid to the northwest along a special type of fault known as a detachment fault. This movement took place over thousands of years shattering the rocks along the fault zone.
    The sheering away of the top of the tall mountain range created two new ranges. The Tucson Mountains along the west side of the resulting valley are comprised of mostly Extrusive Igneous rock such as basalt.
    Left behind is the nine thousand two hundred foot tall Catalina Mountains of, largely, granite. Under lying the mountain range is a broad plateau of, once molten, lava that cooled to become lamaride and later granite, grey in this case.
* (MYA=million years ago)

    He showed us his images to bear out his figures that showed my property to be sitting on this irregular bump along the leading edge of a three hundred thick piece of solid stone. Under that he showed me was a very large aquifer of roughly fifteen surface acres. He could not be certain as to the depth of the water using the equipment available to him, but he said that he was certain that it was seventy five to one hundred feet deep under my drive way. I asked him if my house was in danger of settling should that ground water be pumped out over time. He told me that the edge of the aquifer ended about two feet under the front edge of my house. It ran from the east edge of the property under the granite house to the middle of the street west of my house. It was narrow, like an old fissure in the lamaride. From my property it ran mostly northwest with the widest portion being under the middle of the school grounds, where it ended. My mind began to race.

    I had to look at the satellite pictures once again to verify my thoughts. The west side of my house appeared to be exactly what old Charley had told me it was, a solid granite outcropping three hundred feet thick. With my doors locked and nobody around us I whispered to Andy, "Do you suppose it would be possible to dig a tunnel from this house to the school?"
    "What you want, to put in your own subway?"
    "No, I was just thinking of a secure, and weather proof, path for the boys to get to school. However…I suppose we could use a few electric golf carts…" Andy is the only one that knows for sure how crazy I am, Cory only suspects.
    "Well, this is the same type of rock as on the other side of the mountain and we dug Base A out of that pretty easily. Do you suppose that it continues all the way under the mountain?"
    "Hey, we could dig a tunnel from your house to the base."
    "You're nuts!!! Do you have any idea how much that would cost?" Andy, always the sensible one, and with all of the money that he has.
    "Between us we control over a half a trillion dollars, think that would cover it? But can we do it covertly? I mean something like this could be big."
    "What, digging a twelve mile tunnel under government land?"
    "That's no step for you. All you have to say is that it is the interest of national security. I mean the drug smugglers are digging tunnels under the border so why can't we dig a tunnel for…"
    "Just shut your cock hole, okay? Fuck man, sometimes you are just too much."
    "Kinda like a pain in the ass?" I wiggled my eyebrows at him.
    "Even when you don't have it up my ass!" We began to laugh so hard that we hurt. I love Andy, he is the best friend I could have ever hoped for. I have been blessed with very good friends, I miss Randy Koch very much. I have often heard how much war messes with a man's mind, but now I have seen it with Randy, he is just not the same ole boy.
    I will be out of the country for several weeks toward the end of February and at least into the middle of April while we all go to see Cullen enthroned. That would be the time for dynamiting the rock for a new playroom and home theater with seating for two hundred—home theater? multiple screen theaters don't seat that many.

    Cory knocked on my office door to tell me that there was a man in a Lincoln Towne Car outside and he wanted to talk to me. I was in a nutty mood and started to make a wise crack, but Andy was looking out of the window before he hustled me outside.
    A large man chewing on the butt of a fat cigar was standing beside his car parked in front of my house. He was looking off across the vacant land right across from me, "I am sorry to barge in unannounced, but today I learned that you are the person that purchased the church and school down the street. I believe that I have a propositon that you will like."
    For several days I have been thinking about finding someplace for the boys to run and play completely unfettered without regards to houses or buildings nearby. I knew that the land across the street was being held by the builder until land prices made it feasible to build there.
    West of my house are several homes that have been built along the slow slope of land that leads down from my property. To the east there are only a few homes on my side of the road, but across the street and leading on eastward are several houses built along the gently rising ridges of the foothills to the mountain. About a hundred feet east of granite house there is a street that climbs rapidly along the ridge where Andy's house is. There are a few dozen homes up there and on west of him.
    The land due north of me, from the street leading to Andy's house and westward to the school, is a wasteland of large boulders and deep ravines. For centuries the area had been part of a large wash that carried water away from the mountain and down to the river south of me. When Charley had purchased the land where my house sits he was told that he could never build on it. The land was also part of that wash with large boulders sticking up in a veritable dry river bed.
    When the ridge on which Andy's house had been built this man standing before me had created a new channel for the water to run off, thus clearing the old wash for building. Charley had capitalized on that when he bought the property for my house. Granite house was east of, and above, the old wash so it was high and dry.
    Charley knew the engineers that could design a house that would sit on my land, quite comfortably I might add. Without a massive influx of money for blasting boulders larger than most cars on the road and moving many, many tons of dirt away the land across the street was a total loss.
    Another consideration was the fact that the property was only three hundred feet wide from the road up to Andy's and the campus. The school grounds sit on the higher west bank of the old wash and had been sold early on to a pastor and his flock that never developed the land. The current church buildings and the school had only been built some ten years earlier, but had fallen on hard financial times.
    From the road back to the first ridge where the first houses had been built, when the man developed this neighborhood, was only a half a mile. Zoning restriction in the area would limit him to twenty houses or less, not a good profit margin for the amount of work that would be needed to clear the large boulders and to prepare the land.
    The bottom line is that I bought the vacant field for the first two measures of a very long song, he was willing to give me change back to boot. I leered at Andy and Cory as they stood watching me work my magic with numbers. We watched a very happy developer drive away, I was happier than he. "Behold, a playground for my little heathens."
    Andy looked at me as if I had finally gone around the bend. "Think paint ball. There is the perfect place for these boys to play war games with very little work to prepare the area. The only thing that I need to do is to remove the cactus and dangerous critters, such as rattle snakes that bite boy balls."
    "Oh I don't know, I mean I wouldn't mind getting some of these kids to suck any venom out of my balls from some supposed rattle snake bite," Andy grinned at me.
    "Sounds like the voice of experience," I thought I was being funny.
    "I was eleven, I grew up in that field. There was an older boy that I used to follow around all of the time. We liked to hike down into a hollow just out of sight over that rise there. We would sit in the shade of an overhang in the side of the old wash and talk.
    "One day he was taking a piss on a rock and he screamed that he had been snake bit. I was going to run for help, but he told me that he would be dead before I could get back. He told me that he had learned in Boy Scouts how to suck the venom out of a snake bite to save someone's life. He told me that I would have to suck him, he was going to show me how.
    "He stretched out on a rock and his cock was hard, I had never seen a hard cock before so he told me that that was the poison starting to work. He told me to hurry and suck the poison out, he could see the end of his life coming quickly. He made me take his whole cock into my mouth and suck on it real hard. Next he told me that he could feel the poison moving out of his body so I should move my mouth up and down on him.
    "I was doing everything that I could to save the life of the only big kid that had ever paid attention to me. My jaw hurt from stretching around his big dick, but I was not about to stop. Suddenly he filled my mouth with his cum, he held my head down and told me that the poison would not hurt me if it went into my stomach, it was only deadly if it got into my blood through a bite."
    Cory and I were in stitches as Andy told his story with such a straight face, as if he really did believe that he was going to save the boy's life. "The story doesn't end there, every day for the rest of that summer we went back to that ravine to try to find that snake and every day that kid told me that he thought that there was still some poison in him and that I needed to suck it out. I liked sucking his cock whether I could get any poison out or not so I would start to suck him before he got his pants all of the way down.
    "When the weather turned colder we would go in his garage, he never said anything, I just got down on my knees and sucked his cock. Sometimes he would just stick it out of his fly and other times he would pull his pants down and ask me to feel of his balls while I sucked. I knew by then that he did not have any poison in him, but whatever it was that he shot into my mouth was very good, I had to have it.
    "His parents sent him to New Mexico to the military academy, I was devastated. He asked me if I wanted to suck some of his friends, I told him that I wouldn't do anybody, but him unless they did me too. I was thirteen and a half, he had another friend that was fourteen that sucked his cock for him. He got the two of us together and told us to get naked and lay down, he showed us how to sixty nine.
    "He had told the other boy that he knew someone who would suck his cock and let him suck in return, he told the boy that he would get us together, but only if he could cornhole him. I was made to lay down on my back with the other boy on his hands and knees over me. I watched as the older boy shoved a half a jar of vaseline up the kid's ass then he pushed his cock up in there. I never saw anything so good in my life. We did it like that everyday for more than a month before the older boy left.
    "When he came home from military school he would not let me suck him unless he could cornhole me, I wouldn't let him. I never saw him again after that. I heard that he joined the Army and went to Kuwait, but he never came around again."
    "Andy, you told me that your first was a kid pissing on a bush near the ball diamond."
    "He was the second. I never told anyone about the snake bite, that makes me sound so…I don't know…"
    "Like a little kid that liked to suck cock? At least you could face your desire, I waited until I was fifteen and lived a life of frustration until I learned what I know now, cock sucking is fun." We all got a laugh then Cory jumped and told Andy that a snake bit him. Andy is pretty fast, he chased Cory a long way out into my new playground. When they came back they were both happy. I guess that at least one of them had a little less poison in him.

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