TRAVELER
Chapter 80

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.
    The school had called and left the message that Ricky's transcripts had arrived from New York and he could now enroll and get started in class. I didn't have the time before court Tuesday morning to take fourteen year old Ricky to the high school and get him enrolled as a freshman. I wanted to leave him with Ray and Tom.
    Ray didn't know his way around town. With Biff in a wheelchair and Tom, well it just didn't appeal to him to go and get Ricky enrolled. Besides that he really thought that I could do the job better. Ricky liked Biff very much and Biff seemed to respond to the tiny youngster. I felt that this could work for the remainder of the week. If all hell didn't break loose around my head somewhere along the line.
    Fortunately for me there are people in my house that can think with the heads above their waistline. Pete took Ricky by the hand and dragged him out to his car to be taken to school and enrolled. The pressures on me are weighing too heavily. I am letting my lusts become my focus instead of the boys' welfare. Pete held me and kissed me long and hard. I know that he was right. I told Eddy that he had a very special catch there. He told me that we did.
    I suggested that Pete take the Caddy and put Biff and Tim in the middle seat so that Ray could take care of his little brother. I drove the Olds. It needed a good run and I wanted to lay back in its full seats and relax. I have been offered an update for both muscle cars to turbo charged fuel injection which would give me some real muscle, but somehow I like to keep the cars closer to what was actually available at the time of their manufacture. True, they had a form of fuel injection, but it was not up to parr with what is available today.
    If I was racing the cars or really in need of more muscle I would consider it, but I had all of the boi cock I could handle and didn't need to use my sweet bait cars to fill my bed at this point in my life. Another consideration was the price of gasoline. Yeah, I know, I am making absolute billions with my investments in gasoline, but it still galls me to pull up to the pump and pay three dollars a gallon. My Olds and my 'vette do very well if I can get eight to nine miles to the gallon from them. I could do better if I drove them sensibly, but hey, these are muscle cars and I only drive them for the thrill. It's not like I can't afford it.

    Tuesday morning was very rewarding. I arrived at the courthouse to face a very happy prosecutor as he and Bull stepped onto the elevator at the second floor. I looked at Bull. He smiled from ear to ear and winked at me. The two men headed for the courtroom as I led the boys to our little corner of the world to begin another long day. We were entering into another phase of the trials so I had to have all six boys present. Awaiting me in the witness room along with my boys were four teenage girls, one of whom I quickly learned was Alec's girlfriend. She was cute and would be a nice person to know, if she could grow a dick.
    Twenty minutes later Bull and the State's Prosecutor came into the witness room. The prosecutor shook hands with Jay and Jeff Farley as he told them that their father had changed his plea to guilty and that his trial was over. He turned to Mark, Chad, and Kyle and told them that he thanked them for their help and that they were dismissed to return to school. He told the girls that they would not need to testify that day. The afternoon trial was not far enough along for them to be brought in. That made the two mothers present relax visibly.
    I sat back in relief as Evan moved into my side. It was going to be an anxious morning. I wanted to get the boys out of the court house and somewhere else to help their minds to relax. I took the boys for a long lunch as we talked about their feelings. Andy knows everything, he had Ernesto waiting in the wings. After the boys had something to eat I had Ernesto take five boys on to school. I didn't want them at the house by themselves and they told me that they would rather go on to school anyway. It was boring having to do all of their class work in the evening when everybody else was having fun fucking around. We all got a good laugh from their double entendre.
    Bull came in and sat down with us. I had been so pre-occupied the previous evening that I had not checked up on the day's progress. After a long, and seemingly heated, argument with Terry his defense council had rested their case. The defense had not yet presented their case. The prosecutor had not even finished his presentation with his long parade of witnesses. The defense could not rest what it had yet to present. I could see a mistrial coming, fast.
    Bull had more news. Evan's mother had just gone before a judge and changed her plea to guilty. Emil Koch was raped and hanged in his cell overnight. He had been in isolation, in protective custody. Someone else would hang over that one. Richard Jones had a new celly. He had an old high school suck buddy placed in his cell with him; another major fuck up by the sheriff's jail guard staff. All four of the fathers were in protective custody and supposedly in isolation. Exiter thought the man was there to testify against him and had beaten the man to death in their cell. Andy and Timmy Tuttle walked up about the time that Bull told us this part of the story. Somebody had been paying big money to have all of the Tucson six perpetrators taken out.
    I looked at sweet little Evan. He was as if in a state of shock as he listened to everything we were discussing. I looked at Timmy, "hey, how about you little guys go across the street to the really tall bank building and play on the elevators for awhile." Timmy literally blanched at my statement. The color slowly returned to his boylike face as I smiled at him and eye talked about Evan to him.
    He took a deep breath and with his most perfect impression of a childlike voice said, "Okay, daddy." He grabbed Evan's hand. They ran and giggled like school boys from the very classy hotel restaurant.
    Andy looked at me, "That was cold."
    "I owe him for that one. Did you see Evan? The boy was going into shock. He is so keyed up about all of this, he does not need to hear us talking about it. We do not discuss any of this business in our house. Sometimes the boys will get in bed with me and we will talk. I let them pour their hearts out to me as they express fears beyond belief to me.
    "Gentlemen, we cannot conceive, in our wildest imaginations, what these boys have been through. I have said it so many times that you have memorized the words, but the very people that they should have been able to go to for comfort and protection from the monstrous abuse they were receiving were the very ones molesting and abusing them.
    "Mark once told me that he went to his mommy because he was in pain from what Terry had done to him. Emily, Emil the faggot, took a belt to him and, by his account, nearly beat him to death. I can't conceive of anyone being that cruel to a child.
    "All of the boys tell similar stories of being punished in extreme ways when they mentioned their abuse. Bull you were there with Jeremy Combs the night I met the Farley boys. You remember the stories they told that night. Most of them were true. The facts were changed a bit so that I wouldn't catch on to the their plight. Those boys were terrified about even sitting there talking to me. They knew that if Peter or Roxanne found out that they were even talking to me that they would be beaten as never before.
    "The boys told about a sex party in the Farley garage with Evan, Mark, and Chad. There was no sex between those boys. They huddled together for strength. They had no one except each other to lean on. Peter, Wilbur, and Richard kicked in the door and raped the boys as punishment. They were telling the boys that if they ever talked about any of this then they would get fucked to death. That is what these boys have lived with as their father figure.
    "I am ready to go spit on a cop so that I can be taken over to the county jail. I want to fucking castrate and slowly kill all four of these guys and their wives, Sandy, Roxie, Tiff. They have to be the worst of the dregs of this earth. I am in the process of making female friends in the state's prison system." That got some wide eyed looks from two of my oldest and best friends. They know that I want nothing to do with the dickless side of society. I had to chuckle at their amazed looks. "Don't go getting kinky ideas boys. I want a few pen pals. Get the double entendre there? I can write to my dear sweet girlfriend and share stories about the new girls on the block and get word as to the real attachments that those three women receive.
    "You want to know who I am really looking forward to hearing about from my inside sources? Margaret Peters, Sally Anderson, and nineteen year old Sherl Cravens, the ladies from the two child care centers. And the really big one. Oh how I wish that there was a special sentence the judge could met out for Ms. Maxine Snell. Do you want to know about that bitch from hell? She placed her grand nephew in Wilbur and Exiter's home. That's right, she is the one that placed Chad in a place where he could be made to suffer, but I found out why, this is going to make you sick. Chad's mother spurned Maxine's advances, she is a dyke and she tried to molest her fourteen year old neice, the girl's boyfriend consoled her with his cock, but she died giving birth to Chad, we have never learned who the boyfriend is.
    "That bitch stood in front of everyone of these children with her sanctimonious dribble while each night she was moving thousands of dollars amongst the group and creating shipping labels for their evil merchandise. I want both of you to look at her shoes. I can swear in court that those shoes, and her veiny legs, appear in two of those DVDs. I sat in that woman's class room for two years and saw those ugly legs and her trademark shoes as she stood next to my desk and praised me for my excellent work. The bitch probably wanted me in her movies.
    "No they weren't doing the movies then. It would be three more years before that fucking Terry taught Evan to drink daddy milk. Evan was three years old, gentlemen. That fucking faggot assed bastard that I fought for in the halls of Wilson High was going to sexually molest Tiffany's tiny baby boy that she bore after that bastard Wilbur raped her. Do you want to know what I found out? Sure you do, why ask? Tiffany so hated Wilbur for what he had done to her. She sought out Terry and befriended him as she worked on the hate that he had against his tormentors. The two of them plotted to get even by fucking the kids. The icing on the cake came for them when their tormentors joined with them to fuck their own kids.
    "Guys, these two are truly sick, but I don't want the court to get that idea. I don't want any crazy pleas. I want these people in prison for their entire lives and I want them to have lots of friends who will be more than willing to take care of any sexual needs, known or unknown. I would like to see Terry with a fifteen inch long, eight inch thick cock up his ass everyday. I hope that his shit hole gets so large that the guards can put their boot encased foot up inside."
    "Chris. Hey, Chris. Calm down buddy. Let's go someplace and have a quiet drink." We were in a quiet place. I chugged one six ounce rum and coke as another was set before me. The bartender conspired against me with drinks mixed at 1:3, one ounce of coke, three ounces of rum over a glass full of ice. They called it a six ounce cocktail. Oh yeah, there was a quarter of a lime squeezed in it, that made up the difference. I awakened in my own bed with Cory's arm laying across my chest and his sweet breath blowing on my cheek. I wrapped my arms about him and held him close.

    I crawled down the stairs and managed to get a grip on a cup of coffee that was several hours old. Actually it had sat in the pot and concentrated to a strength that made me stand a bit more upright. With a foggy head I drifted over to a chair and sat down at the table. I would like to clarify, or quantify, if I may one point. I had several alcoholic drinks Tuesday afternoon and each drink was served to me with ice in the glass. I know, for an absolute fact, that I was given bad ice. Alcohol, particularly a good rum, and Coca Cola would never cause the type of distress that I was suffering. However, it is a well known fact that water is corrosive. To prove this one only has to look at metal items left to the elements. Rust and corrosion destroy these, almost impervious items. Therefore it is safe to assume that ice made with water is the cause of what is commonly called a hangover. I was the victim of bad ice. Period. No more discussion.

Should you have any doubts as to the veracity of my last statement then please read this quote from the second paragraph of the introduction to Traveler Players:
No one knows for sure what makes one person homosexual and the next hetrosexual. These differences are even found amongst identical twin brothers, which goes a long way to disproving environment. However a recent press release seems to cast a bit of support to the environment side. It seems that "intersex" fish, that is fish with both male and female characteristics, have been found in the Potomac River and its tributaries, raising questions about how contaminants are affecting millions of people who drink tap water. I have often heard Chris tell his boys that one problem or another was because of the water. The biggest problem Chris has with water is that which is used to make ice which some people insist on putting in his mixed drinks. That water seems to cause hangovers. Now he has scientific evidence to back his statement.—see Associated Press release, September 7, 2006

    The boys were excited. Bull was with them and their spirits were high. Terry had shown up in court with no lawyer. The jury was not present. The judge declared a mistrial. Terry told him to shut up. He told them that this trial was still in session. He pled guilty to all charges and began to state, for the record, his long line of abuses. He began with a graphic description of his first sexual contact with Tiffany's infant son. He told how he and Tiffany would take the boy to bed and both of them would use the boy as a sex toy.
    I told Bull shut the fuck up. Evan was shaking like a leaf. Chad and Mark were holding him as all three boys cried. I led them from the room. The rest of the family began to calm down. They were glad that this part of the saga was over, but they all glared at Bull for being so graphic in front of Evan.

    Bull was tearfully apologizing to the family for his unthinking remarks. He was so excited about the new turn of events that he didn't even think about the victims of these people and their emotions. I sat beside him and put my arm around my old friend. "Bull, my head is full of slush this morning or I would take you to task. You spoke about this case in front of Evan yesterday and again today, I won't have this happen again." He looked around the table and asked if he could tell me the good news. My friend is an asshole.
    The county jail has one of the best communication systems in the world. Each one of the defendants in this case was in solitary confinement and not allowed visitors, with the exception of their attorneys or clergy. So it was to be expected that they would know everything that was going on with their cohorts in crime. Richard Jones had been crying like a baby all night long. He cried out every part of the dastardly deed in which he had participated and incriminated two people that we did not know about. He changed his plea to guilty on the condition that he could be sentenced at once and be moved out of state to a prison where no one knew of his crime. Sentencing was set for Tuesday morning the 31st of January.
    The fog in my head was not so thick that I could not smell a skunk in the flower garden. I stared at Bull. As I began a third pot of coffee I got through to Bull and Andy that these men were scared. Then I had the I s dotted and the Ts crossed.
    Old man Anson called from the front gate. He wanted to talk to Evan. I sat Evan in my office and let his grandfather talk with him, only I sat behind my desk. There is no way in this wide world that I would allow that man to hurt this boy, ever again. The old man sat facing Evan and holding both of the boy's hands with both of his. He was hard to understand as he cried and apologized to Evan for the treatment he had given the boy.
    He wanted Evan to know that he had acted out of ignorance. That he was wrong when he had told Evan that he was of no relation to him. His son had married Tiffany and had taken the responsibility of raising her son. As a grandfather he had a responsibility to see that his son was doing his duty and he had sorrowfully not done his part.
    He was contrite and sincere as he looked Evan in the eye and told him that he had taken steps to assure that these people would never again harm him or any boy. He told Evan that he would never have to worry about money for the rest of his life. He told him that he and his grandmother had made all of their insurance and their entire estate available to him, to serve him, to provide for him.
    I saw the fear in Evan's eyes and felt that same fear growing in me. The old man cried as he hugged the boy then left, quickly. I yelled at Andy to get someone on the old man's tail at once. Andy grabbed his radio and was talking a mile a minute.

    The police went to the Anson home. Mrs. Anson was in the bathtub. She had taken a large dose of barbiturate and had been dead about four hours. Andy's men had been unable to find Mr. Anson that evening. The following morning his car was spotted at a favorite look out point high on the mountainside. He was sitting behind the steering wheel of his car. He had shot himself to death.

    I did not have to go to the local courts for awhile. I don't need to subject myself to anymore of this mess, but I did follow along on my computer and praised Andy for his equipment that made everything in each courtroom open to those who know where to look and the massive passwords needed to gain access. I learned that none of the equipment was wired in place. The equipment was quietly laid in place and moved as needed. All of the signals were broadcast to a repeater and then sent to our satellite for our use. Anti-tamper measures were installed so that if the equipment was not handled properly the circuitry fried itself, destroying anyway of being able to so much as trace the frequency that we used.
    Tuesday morning, January 31st, the court started with the sentencing.
    Richard-Exiter-Jones's guilty plea was accepted with no plea bargain asked or offered. He was given three hundred and eighty seven years for the molestations and drug charges. The room where the movies had been filmed aggravated the charge to dangerous, non repentant, and repetitive. There is to be no possibility of parole for this life long child molester who began his reign of terror over children at age ten. He will serve his entire sentence out of statestate. Murder charges have now been filed against him for the death of his cell mate. A change of venue was granted for his murder trial.
    With Peter Farley having changed his plea his jury was no longer available. The judge went with what he had. Peter was sentenced as a dangerous and repetitive predator of young children. He was given one hundred and eleven years, with no possibility of parole, to think about what he had done to his own young sons. Peter was bundled up and shipped out of the state to begin his sentence in a far away land.
    Emil had been found hanging by a bed sheet from the water pipes across the ceiling of his cell. It was clearly a case of murder. The man's, oops, she man's feet were more than three feet above the floor. The sheet around shim's neck was only a foot long between the pipes and shim's body. It was a physical impossibility for Emil to have hanged itself. The body was naked with sperm and other after fuck juices on the legs and on the floor beneath the body. DNA tests were inconclusive as more than twelve distinct patterns were present.
    Terry had hanged himself in his cell where he was kept naked and not allowed blankets or bed sheets. He raped himself then hanged himself by his long hair from the fire extinguisher head in the center of his cell. His feet dangled forty inches above the floor. There is nothing within reach of his body on which he could have stood to commit suicide, but that is what the official records state. I prefer not to press to have that changed.
    Terry was on twenty four hour suicide watch by two officers as well as a video surveillance officer. The sheriff's department equipment had large gaps in their video recordings. The recorders are located at a location several miles from the jail. More than a few people had to have been involved. Of course we could not reveal our video surveillance recordings which clearly showed the faces of the people involved
    Wilbur was not going down so easy. He was facing over nine hundred years for the molestations and the death sentence for the rape, 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.
    He has waived his right to a speedy trial and has been moved out of state where he is being kept safe and secure until his trial, which is scheduled for mid-September of 2006.

    Harry and Timmy pulled guard duty at the county jail. They are both smooth conversationalists and were able to put their coworkers at ease. Fifty thousand dollars had been paid to each of three guards to leave four jail cells unlocked. Emil and Terry had both been murdered. Richard had recognized his old high school buddy and had managed to kill the man sent to kill him. Wilbur received word that he was also marked for death and wanted to be sent out of state as soon as possible. He will live to stand trial for murder.
    Two guards that had been on duty the nights that two inmates killed themselves were moved to other duties with less responsibility. One young guard, Tommy Simpson, is a hero to six young boys at my house. Especially to his young great nephew Chad Jones. Chad told his grandmother's brother that I might be able to help him invest his recent fifty thousand dollar windfall left him from Mr. Anson's life insurance.

    The dickless defendants proved that they didn't have any balls. Sandy, Roxie, and Tiff pled out. Roxie has to serve eighty five years without the possibility of parole, for ongoing child molestation, dealing in drugs and pandering.
    Tiffany will be on the taxpayers meal ticket for one hundred and seventeen years. Sandy knew what was going on, but did not actually participate. She will serve fifty years for her silence. In Arizona if a person knows of a crime against a child and does not report it then they can be sentenced for contributing to the crime. Had she reported what she knew, at the beginning, none of the children would have been harmed, therefore she was guilty.
    Nineteen year old Sherl Cravens had been a nine year old victim of the movie makers. When she grew up she told Margaret Peters and Sally Anderson, the ladies from the two child care centers, how they could make some really big money. They dressed the youngsters in their care for stardom and posed them for Tiffany and her camers. All three women will have time to think of ways that they could have spent that money as they look at the world from a five by seven cell for twenty five years.
    And the really big one. Oh how I wish that there was a special sentence the judge could met out for Ms. Maxine Snell. She pled guilty and turned state's evidence against the others. Lying, conniving, back stabbing Snell only got ten years. If paroled she can be out in eight and a half years. She is sixty one now so she will still be young enough to enjoy life while the boys that she stood beside as those movies were being filmed will suffer forever.
    The six women were placed in a common cell with a contingent of guards on the guards who had guards watching them. The women were going to pay the piper. They would live to serve their sentences. Or so I thought.

    I pondered what I could do with six, very frightened little boys. They need something special, but as I considered everything I decided that the best thing I could do for them was to let them stay in school and continue in a sane and normal life. They need continuity. What could be more sane and contiguous than life in a house filled with fifty cock sucking fags fawning over their cute little booty?
    I could just sit back with nary a care in the world and relax. I had not had that privilege in a very long time. I plan to take a vacation before heading off to New York and the federal court system that awaited me there. I let my mind drift to a flashback:

    As I waited for our plane to leave New York Randy had come to me with a packet of documents from Andy. The packet contained a group of photographs of the same man. Clean shaven, with beard, in a business suit, in rags and towels. I saw a close up of the emblem on the front of the limousine. The next shot was a blow up of two people in the back seat in an embrace. A note from Andy was stuck on to that picture. "You have this man's name. We have to talk."
    As he drove me home Andy looked over his shoulder and said, "I am sure that if I had a black book or two I could invite some people in a Limousine to a special party." I am in the mood for a party with these people. I just need a little black book.

    Charley left me the most damning evidence ever written down on paper. There are twenty three little black books that contain nothing, but names and phone numbers. The books now reside deep in a cave a little more than eighteen hundred feet below ground level in a special safe set in solid granite deep under my mountain in Arkansas. They are forever watched over by the love of my ancestor, Chief-Flies Over Fox, Under Eagle-Steve Conway.
    I have a private entrance to that cave. That started me thinking about my fantastic friend, Cory. I called him to come to me. I told him that it was only Wednesday and he had sentenced me to an evening of instruction for Friday night, but my students were doing so well that I wanted to let them have a night on their own. I wiggled my eyebrows at Cory and asked if maybe, perhaps, just on a chance, could he like try to tear himself away from any plans he might have and join me in my bed. I would still serve my sentence Friday night, but maybe he would let me do a little brown nosing on the judge. He wiggled around in my lap and told me that I had a wonderful idea. Lance and Jan were nearby and they accused me of trying to bribe a judge. I wiggled my eyebrows at them.
    I squeezed my love tightly. He had himself a birthday coming in just one more month. I remembered a dark and stormy night in a laundromat in Nashville, Tennessee when I spotted Cory hiding, stark naked, behind a garbage can as he washed every stitch of clothing that he owned.

"He was cute. He was well hung and had a wispy little bush on his upper lip. His legs had a light dusting of light colored hair. His hair and eyebrows were a medium brown and he had a dark little pubic crown. He stood five foot six inches. He may have weighed a hundred pounds, if he had a large rock in each pocket. His soft cock hung three and a half inches. His little frame was frail and all skin and bones. He had virtually no color to him just an even pale white from neck to toe. When I got him to my bed I had a very respectable seven and a half inch cock fucking in and out of my throat. I learned that his birthday was March eleventh and that he had just turned sixteen," I reminisced.

    It has been sixteen sweet, and very happy months since I found this man child that has so captivated me. His frail little body has filled out to a nice five foot eleven inches and growing. Another important part is growing quickly as well. At just under six inches around his uncut cock fits snugly inside any orifice at least ten inches deep and even at that he bottoms out on those hard strokes that we all love from him. His frame has beefed out from his daily runs with me and constant work outs both in the lap pool and on the dead weights. But not an ounce of the one hundred and fifty six pounds that he carries is excess fat.
    I sat and held my boy for a little bit as we watched the family at play. Theo was leading Ricky around the room and making him lick the balls of everybody present. Ricky was having more fun than he had ever had in his young life. His sex life had been spent with older men and he never had any real peer input or experiences. I watched as he and Theo sat in a chair away from the others and played tonsil hockey. Cory and I giggled at the pair. We both feel that there is going to be a very important relationship between them long after Ricky's punishment is finished.
    I pointed Cory to look at Bryan and Donny. Those two have totally fallen in love with one another. Bryan has suddenly become the boy that I knew he could be. His infectious laughter is the delight of all of us. He shows so much warmth and love as he reacts with the family and the boys seek time to be with him and Donny.
    I believe the cutest couple in the house has to be Curtis and Kenny. The two tiny imps make one think of children until your eye travels to their very mature equipment. All of us enjoy taking pictures of each other and I have, amongst my most favorites of all, a sweet picture of these two sitting on the edge of their bed in a sweet embrace. Curtis is turned slightly to his left as he wraps his arms around Kenny and kisses his love while their little cocks stand out for anticipated attention.
    Derrick had impaled himself on Christopher and had his head lain back on Christopher's shoulder Christopher was doing a reach around as he slowly fondled the massive balls of the larger boy in his lap. These two work together well, but then again I see Christopher's eyes when Timmy is near. Christopher will graduate from high school next spring, he will be eighteen in September of' '07. From my talks with Timmy I am sure both boys will be really happy. I am only worried that Christopher can hold himself together until he is of age. It is very hard for all of us not to tell him what may happen, but with the trauma in so many of the family's lives already…I have asked Timmy to keep quiet until his birthday. Can either of them hold on for nineteen more months? I think that they are strong enough to go twice that long.
    Someone was plotting. Turner and Art crawled over to Cas and Ty. Brad and Jay were making out in front of a very interested audience. When those two boys go after each other nobody can stay flaccid. I have often heard of Latin lovers, but as good as he is Brad can learn a lot from his very hot boyfriend. Jay makes everyone in the room feel the passion and then he goes up in Brad with so much…passion is too tame of a word. My vocabulary does not contain a word that can express the emotions Jay evokes, even as a simple voyeuristic witness.
    Ģerâld and Luke took a love seat near Cory and I. They had a look of lust in their eyes. Jerry, Tim, Cullen, and Cecil were giggling and stealing glances our way. Jim and Lew moved from their spot across the room and called to Mike and Les to move over to our side.
    I looked at Cory. His man stick was dripping into the deep V of his clavicle as his body curled around in my lap. I dipped my finger in the bluish colored liquid and licked it. "I think that possibly our family would like to see a show."
    "I wouldn't mind showing them how much I love you, daddy. I really mean that. Everyone here knows how much I love you and I believe that you love me just as much."
    I was hurt. I looked at Cory. His eyes grew large and tears welled along the bottom. "You believe that I love you as much as you love me. Cory, what will it take for me to prove to you once and for all how much I love you?"
    "Fuck me until I blather like an idiot. Fuck me with all of the love and passion in that old boy loving body of yours. Pour out all of your lusts and desires into me, right now. Right in front of all of these sex crazed fag boys that are about to burst from anticipation."
    Without another word I buried my tongue deep in Cory's mouth. His arms wrapped around my neck and I rolled up and out onto the floor. As we rolled forward two thick blankets that we use as floor fuck mats were spread at our feet and it was onto those, our love nest, that I took Cory as he had never been taken before. I pulled no punches and spared no feelings as I practically raped my boy in full view of every hungry eye in the house.
    Cory was yelling his ecstacy as my cock rammed home, totally dry and with no preparation. He fucked back at me, driving his hard cock into my gut over and over again. I moved up under Cory and pulled his slender body up onto my legs as I used full length strokes deep in and out of his eager ass. I bent over and took more than half of his cock into my mouth and worked him at the same speed I plowed his furrow. He was screaming for more. He was shouting out his love for me. Never, in all of our time together, have I heard the words of undying love like he espoused to me at that moment. Yeah, he always tells me he loves me as we fuck, but this was coming from deep in his soul. He is in love with me. Lust aside, he is in love. As am I.
    Cory filled my throat with more cum than he had ever given me at one time. His body was wracked with spasms as he milked me into the most intense orgasm of recent memory. He fell back, exhausted. I fell beside him as I searched the universe for just one more lung full of air. Suddenly I had a warm feeling run across my body. I looked up to see every boy in the house offering up his precious juice on our sweaty and exhausted bodies. Craig and Sean held Biff up as Ricky helped the boy send his load over the rest of us. Tim straddled my head as he sent a massive load right into my face.
    Cory and I lay together in silent afterglow as many tongues cleaned our bodies and soothed our souls. I was barely conscious as I heard a quiet voice nearby say, "I would give anything if he would make love like that to me, just once."
    "He will, Jay Jay. He will. When he thinks that you can handle it, he will," Trevor told him. "I have ridden him. Not that hard, but he makes me feel so special. He is fearful for you, sweetness. He loves you too much to hurt you."
    "He is hurting me by not fucking me, Trey. Why can't he see that?"
    I reached over and touched his foot and told him that he just opened my eyes. I told him that maybe I should have asked him instead of assuming that he would not want to be with me after his lifetime ordeal. He crawled over to me and kissed me. Cory kissed me and told me he would be up later. He helped me to my feet then placed Trey and Jay Jay's hands in mine. I led the two boys to my bed room.

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