TRAVELER
Chapter twenty four

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 our favorite author,
"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, ©2005-2011. It is therefore illegal to copy or use any part of this story on any other web site without my written permission.


This is a spelling and grammar corrected chapter. It now contains bookmarks for easy reference.
There are no pictures or music links in this on-line version.
    Betty sat down over coffee with me Thursday evening. I told her that we had to get on the road Friday morning. Cas had to be back at school Monday and I wanted him to get a good night's rest before hand. She could see that. She told me that she had been considering selling her house. It was worth a million and a half dollars on the current market. She had been trying to decide where to go. She looked me square in the eye and asked me what I thought about her moving to Tucson.
    The boys had come in during our talk and each had a cup of hot chocolate that Betty had prepared for them. A piece of pumpkin pie with mounds of whipped cream was set before me as I looked squarely at her.
    "Could you see yourself in a small two bedroom house on the back of a large property. It is eleven hundred square feet, two bedroom, one bath, with a large kitchen opening to a patio sitting on top of a fifty foot cliff. The view below is some of the best in the Tucson area. It is on the south slope of the Santa Catalina mountains a little over twelve hundred feet above the city proper.
    "There are some strings attached. The house was built as servant's quarters, but has been used as a guest house in the past, also. The person that would live there would be expected to cook and clean for four slovenly males who spend most of their time naked. There is a large swimming pool and a hot tub between the guest house and the main house which would be available for use by those residing in the guest house. The living quarters and utilities would be provided in lieu of partial remuneration."
    She looked at me with tears in her eyes. Will was up, leaning over the table starring at me. "You mean we could come and live with you guys?"
    "You will live with your grandmother in a house on my property."
    The front door opened. A tall man of about forty five entered with a boy of maybe nineteen. He grabbed Will up and hugged him. "Uncle Mickey," the boy squealed. This was Betty's brother and his partner, Clay. Clay was a wisp of a boy with pimples and reddish hair. He was pale and painfully thin
    Mickey had heard about Grace and came to give his condolences. He also had news on the sale of Betty's house. He had a friend who was offering ten percent above current value plus ten thousand cash for the furnishings. Betty was astounded. All she would need to pack were her personal items. She could be out of the house in three days. It was arranged that after the funeral she would pack up and be in Tucson the second week of December.
    The boys had disappeared, Clay included. While Mickey talked with Betty Cory crept up to me and whispered in my ear that I needed to come with him. He led me to the bedroom he and Cas shared. What I saw when I entered caused my jaw to drop. Standing in the middle of the room was an extremely pale youth with more pimples on his shoulders and butt than I could imagine. He was so skinny that his butt and back seemed to have very little definition, I was hard put to determine where one ended and the other began. The kid looked anaemic. When he turned around I could see Mickey's fascination with this lad. Sticking out of a sparse reddish, almost pink, bush was a solid foot long cock of considerable thickness. He stood five foot nine, but only weighed one hundred and twenty three pounds. Every bone in his body could be seen through the thin sheath of flesh hanging on them. His very light strawberry red hair was wispy, and so thin that his scalp was clearly visible. I tell you, I thought the boy was sick, maybe AIDS or something. I wanted him wrapped in plastic before he touched my boys.
    Mickey was a bottom's bottom. He loved cock up his ass, constantly. He had met Clay when the youngster was only fourteen. At that time Clay had eight inches of cock. He was a virgin to any kind of sex and had been highly introverted and shy. Mickey had taken the boy under his wing and made him into a fucking machine. Clay had benefitted by gaining new confidence in himself.
    Clay ran away from a dysfunctional family life and took up permanent residence with his full time lover. They had now been together for almost seven years and considered themselves life partners, committed to the pleasure and fulfillment of each other.
    I took my empty cup to the kitchen and talked to Betty. Clay had been a very abused boy. When Mickey first found him he was a runaway. He only weighed forty nine pounds at fourteen. He was only four foot six and so thin and weak that he could not stand for long periods. He had escaped the torturous prison of his step mother's house and was hiding in a city park rest room known locally as a youth tea room. Mickey had gone to find release when he spotted Clay in the corner of a toilet stall. He called the police, but through his connections he was able to foster the boy and nurse him to health. Some health, but Betty assured me that the boy was hands and away from where he had been and had never been happier. I don't know what hands and away is, but it had to mean better than he was. Looking at him now he must have really been in bad shape.
    The boys had the trusty tape measure and put Clay on his back on the bed. He was bigger even than we thought. He had a full thirteen inches of tightly cut man meat and he was six and a half inches around. He enjoyed being a top, but liked to bottom when they could find a worthy third to join him and Mickey. I asked what a worthy third was. He told me that that would be somebody who could really reach in and scratch his deep, deep itch.
    Mickey came looking for us about that time. I asked him how deep Clay's itch was. He told me that it wasn't as deep as it was wide. The lad needed a good stretching. I grabbed Cas and yanked his pants down. Clay was on his knees in worship as he spit slicked Cas. The other boys undressed Cas and slipped a condom on him. Then they helped the two take up their position.
    Cas aimed his thick, short pole at the pulsating pucker before him and entered in without ceremony. Clay wrapped his long slender legs around Cas and locked his heels together pulling the tough little athlete tighter into him as Cas began the hardest and hottest fuck I had ever seen him give. Both boys were in a sexual euphoria as they immersed themselves in the act at hand.
    Clay sent rockets of cum across his body, which Mickey was quick to lick up and then nursed the last dribbles from his young lover's monster meat. As they separated I told Mickey that it looked as if Clay's itch might be deeper than he had thought. I opened my pants and again Clay came to a worshipful position. Cory had a Trojan in his hand and rolled it on me.
    I pushed Clay back to the bed and moved into the place where Cas had been moments before. He was open and well lubed by Cas so I just pushed in and began a hard fuck of the youngster's skinny butt. Like the old adage goes, this boy was built for speed, not for comfort. I could feel his bony little hips against my body as I long stroked his ass with no mercy. Clay liked it hard and fast and I was here to deliver. He was yelling and thrashing about in sexual delight as Mickey moved over his young face and began to mouth fuck him with his thin eight inch cock.
    Will moved behind and fucked his uncle with a little raincoat on his dick. He had to keep up the family tradition. Mickey wanted me as I finished with his lover. My dick was only half hard and a little sensitive, but I did my best. Will had opened the door, back door, and even in my near flaccid state I was able to make a grand entrance, still wearing the same condom that I used with Clay.
    Cory, in the meantime had encased Clay in a latex sheath and was getting himself stretched more than he had been in many years. He had never experienced this much cock, but he had been so young and small that in proportion it was the same. Clay had his pubes against Cory's sweet buns, tears were rolling down Cory's face. I pulled the two of us together and kissed him. I told him that he didn't have to do this, but he told me he wanted it. I whispered in Cory's ear how much I loved him and didn't want to see him hurt. Actually, what I was thinking was that I didn't want his sweet little ass stretched to the point that I would not be able to please him. Stupid, I know, but these things do go through your head. Especially when the one person you love more than life itself is involved.
    Beethoven began to play. Cas ran for his cell phone and left the room. We didn't see him for a half an hour so I went in search of him. He was sitting in the den with his back against the wall and his feet pulled up tight to his tight butt, his chin resting on his knees. It was obvious that he had been crying I sat down on the floor next to him and he wrapped his arms around me as he began to cry again. I held him close.
    He cried himself out then croaked in my ear, "The little fool did it." Oh no. I knew he had to be talking about his little brother. Had he outed himself to their homophobic father? "He told dad that he is gay. He told dad what really happened at the museum. Dad is a bundle of sorrow. I talked to him."
    "Your dad?"
    "Yeah. He apologized. He wants me to come home for Christmas."
    "You going?"
    "Llewellyn says not to trust the old man. He says he heard him and the elders talking about some sort of ritual. He says that he looked it up in the church manuals and it calls for blood letting, whippings with a lash, and hanging by the, arms behind the body. He says that he is scared. I told him to come out here, or, you know, Tucson."
    "Is he coming?"
    "He'll call back tonight after father is in bed. I have to find some way to get him here."
    "You already have and you know it. All you have to do is tell me."
    "No, I have to ask you. You have done so much already."
    "So do you want to leave him there?"
    "NO!"
    "It's settled then. Let's call the airlines." I got the information I needed and purchased a will call ticket for Llewellyn Casper to pick up at the airport. Now we had to get him to the airport. Cas knew someone who could pick him up and take him without his dad knowing. Now we had to wait until the boy called back, and we had to get to Tucson to meet his plane Monday afternoon.
    I slept with Will that night. I feel like such a pervert with this tiny lad in my arms. He looks all of ten or eleven years old. He only carries seventy nine pounds, on his little body. He has a small round face with a few large freckles and hundreds of little tiny ones on his cheeks. His nose is still turned up like a little kid and his big front teeth fill his little mouth. He wears his hair in bangs that hang down over his little eyes and his soft voice and silly little giggle…well, I have never been into children. However, this child has eight and a half inches of extra thick man meat hanging between his legs and he knows how to use it and he loves any kind of male to male sex. I have known other really beefy boys who looked grown up, but their genitals had not grown. Will was just the opposite.
    I apologized for not being able to stay for the funeral. It was very important that Cas get back to school, he understood and accepted it. He was riding on his favorite pony ride as he looked me in the eye. "I really don't think it would be a good idea for you to be at the funeral, Chris." I asked why. "I don't want you to spit on her grave." I was shocked until he started his melodic laugh and bounced to our mutual orgasm. Who knew that laughter could be so erotic?

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