The following story is a work of fiction. The characters of Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn are fictional characters created by Mark Twain, but this story in no way reflects the portrayal of the characters by the original author. It portrays sexual acts between minors. If you are underage in your location, please do not read.



Tom & Huck

Under the Bridge

by hottcarter1987

NOTE: I've always enjoyed the 1995 movie Tom and Huck, starring Jonathan Taylor Thomas and the late Brad Renfro. Although their portrayals of these timeless characters was very much in my head when I conceived this story, one certainly doesn't have to imagine these actors playing out this sexual fantasy. Also, Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn, as far as Twain depicted them, were about the same age. For the following story, I've made Huck a bit older than Tom (he's 15, and Tom is 11). The story takes place before the events related in The Adventures of Tom Sawyer.


"Aw, c'mon, Huck. Lemme have a smoke."

"Naw, Tom. `Member the last time ah's around and let ya? Ya puked all over, soiled yer clothes, and ya got whooped by yer Ant Polly. No doin'."

Tom Sawyer's bottom lip stuck out in a mighty pout, and he watched the water cascade over the rocks underneath the old bridge. "But ah'm a whole year older now, Huck. Ah kin handle it."

Huckleberry Finn packed his corncob pipe with a wad of tobacco and put the stem between his teeth. Lighting a match, he took deep lungful of the sweet smoke and exhaled a big cloud of bluish-grey fumes from his thin lips. "Ah ain't lettin' ya, and if ya try to take it from me, ah'll whoop ya worse'n yer ant." He leaned back on the bank of the stream and puffed away contentedly. He'd only been back in town three days before he'd hooked up with his best friend, Tom, and already they were underneath their favorite spot, the old bridge just outside of town. They were taking a rest from skipping stones and finding frogs and salamanders and the like.

"Aw, Huck, Ah thought we was friends," continued Tom. He sighed. "What're we gonna do, then. Ain't nothin' to do."

Huck grinned through his long brown bangs. "Sure there is, Tom." He reached down and rubbed his tented pants. "You can do whatcha did the last time ah was here."

"Really?" Tom said, his face lighting up.

"Sure," said Huck. "You's my friend, aintcha? Friends help each other out, and ah'm feelin' powerful horny."

Tom licked his lips as he watched his best friend fondle himself. Huck traveled all up and down the mighty Mississippi River, and the last time he came back, he told Tom of learning a new game from a couple of older men he'd met in St. Louis. It involved putting your pecker into another man's mouth and sucking on it until it spit out white juice that Huck said was cum. Tom found it tasted salty, but he swallowed it every time just like his buddy had told him to. Tom had done it several times before Huck left town this last time, and the younger boy sometimes dreamed over and over of doing it again. Huck told him not to do it with anyone else, and he made Tom swear an oath not to tell anybody about doing it with him. Tom had kept his promise. Now, he was thrilled to suck on Huck's pecker again. His friend leaned back on the bank against a big rock and pulled out his pecker. It was really big, about 8 inches when it was stiff, and had skin over the top. Tom crawled over to it and lowered his open mouth onto it as Huck sucked on his pipe and grunted. "Mmmphh," Tom said as he sank down on Huck's pecker.

Huck Finn puffed out a cloud of smoke as he watched his friend's head bob up and down. "Damn, Tom," he muttered with his pipe clenched firmly in his teeth. "That feels mighty good." Tom managed to look up, his blue eyes twinkling at Huck. He increased his speed on the hard organ. Huck smiled and put his hands on top of Tom's head and pushed him all the way down, causing the boy to sputter and gag a bit, but the younger boy was used to this kind of treatment from his friend. The last time Huck was in town, he did it to him that way. "Good boy," Huck crooned. "Take it all, Tom. All of it." Huck's head fell back and rested on his shoulders. The sound of the creek beside them, the chirping of the birds overhead, and the slurping sounds of Tom's sucking melded together in Huck's ear. Very few times had he felt as good as he did right then. He had learned a lot from those men in St. Louis, and he was feeling mighty glad he'd showed Tom all about it. But there was something new he'd picked up a few days before he returned from this trip, and he was itching to do it with his best friend.

He let Tom suck on him for a bit more, then he grabbed some hair and pulled the boy's head off his stiff pole. His pecker came out from Tom's warm mouth with a soft "pop," and the younger boy wore a look of disappointment on his beautiful round face. "Whassa matter, Huck?" he said. "Dontcha like it?"

"Sure ah do," Huck said. "But thare's somethin' else ah wanna do. Yer gonna like it." He had Tom bend over on the bank. Huck took off his shirt, balled it up somewhat, and laid it under Tom's head. As the boy rested his cheek against the shirt, Huck pulled down Tom's pants. "Those guys in St. Louis did this to me, and it felt pretty good." He reached in his traveling bag and got a bottle of olive oil he'd swiped from a store and stuck his middle finger in it. When it was coated good with the slippery oil, he stuck the finger into Tom's upturned ass.

"Ahh!" called out Tom. "What're ya doin', Huck?"

"It hurt?" Huck replied.

"Not really. Kinda feels good. That yer finger?"

Huck grinned. "Yup. But ah got somethin' else fer that tight ass o' yours." He pulled out his finger, satisfied that his buddy's hole was greased well, and poured some of the oil on his pecker. Gripping it, he slicked up the hard organ and aimed it at Tom's backside.

"What, Huck?"

"You'll see," the vagabond said. With a swift push, he buried his oiled prick all the way into Tom's rectum.

"AHHHH!" Tom cried out.

Quickly, Huck leaned down and clamped his hand over Tom's wide-open mouth. "Shut yer damn mouth, Tom!" he barked. "Ya want anybody t'hear ya?" He had his whole dick in Tom's ass and didn't move it any so that Tom could get used to it. He removed his hand, but Tom screamed again. "Dammit," said Huck as he silenced his friend again. "This ain't gonna work." He thought a minute and realized what he needed to do. Without pulling out of Tom, and with keeping one hand over his mouth, Huck reached back into his back pocket and withdrew two handkerchiefs. They had been white ones he'd swiped somewhere during his travels, but they were now stained with the stuff he'd spurted on them the previous day after having played with his pecker. With one hand, he balled one up and shoved it into Tom's mouth. "Don't spit it out," he said. Now that he had both hands free, he swiftly tied the other over Tom's lips and around his head tightly so that the boy couldn't speak or cry out. "Much better," he said taking a puff of his pipe. All poor Tom could do now was emit muffled screams not nearly as loud as before. "This is called fuckin', Tom, and it makes my pecker feel mighty damn good." He took another puff before pulling out a little and ramming back into Tom, who let out another gagged scream. "Ah know it hurts at first, but after ah git goin', it's gonna feel real good to ya." Huck grabbed Tom's hips and began moving his stiff pecker in and out.

Tom Sawyer couldn't believe that his buddy could fit all of his 8-inch dick up inside him. He couldn't believe that such a thing was even possible, but the hard tube moving repeatedly in and out of his ass was a reality. Huck had been correct, though--the more he got fucked, the more the pain was replaced by a good feeling. He didn't know why, but there was a place deep inside him that felt really good when Huck would push all the way in. It sparked his own prick every time Huck hit it, and Tom's little pecker first got hard and then jumped up and down on its own. It made him feel really, really good, and he didn't want the feeling to end.

Huckleberry Finn closed his eyes, and his head fell back on his shoulders a bit as he pumped his hard prick in and out of his buddy. Tom's tight ass was gripping it but good, sending a lot of pleasure along the shaft. Huck bit into the stem of his pipe, smoking heavily as he continued fucking. Just like the men who'd done this to him in St. Louis, he cussed as he did the deed. He tried to be quiet about it, though, because if anyone were in the woods he didn't want them to know what they were doing. "Damn, Tom," he muttered. "This feels so good...mmmm...shoulda done this to ya a long time ago. Didn't know this'd feel this great. Fuck, fuck, fuck..." Huck's voice trailed off as he increased his thrusting speed. He'd seen rabbits going at it, and at that moment, he felt like one.

Instinctively, Huck reached down and grabbed a handful of Tom's longish hair and pulled his buddy's head up hard. "MMMMPPHH-mmmm-MMMMPHH!" Tom moaned. His eyes were big as saucers, and he could feel Huck's balls slapping against his backside. He heard Huck grunting in rhythm to his fucking motion, which was increasing.

Huck felt his balls pull up, and he knew he couldn't last any longer. His dick began throbbing, and though he wanted this to last, he couldn't help himself. "Get ready, Tom," he panted. "Ah'm gonna...OH, DAMN!!" Huck rammed his pecker all the way inside Tom, and he felt the head of it get larger. The organ pulsed violently, and his cream shot out of it like a bullet, quickly filling his buddy's hole. Huck's body shook, and he strangled back a cry as he ejaculated. It didn't take long to empty his cum into Tom, and when he was done, he fell back onto the ground, his pipe falling out of his mouth to the side. Tom fell forward, breathing through his nose due to the gag.

Both boys laid where they were for several minutes. Tom undid the gag and spit out the handkerchief in his mouth, panting to get air in. Huck sat up and grabbed his pipe, knocking the tobacco out by tapping the bowl on a rock. He repacked it and lit it anew, crawling over to Tom. He leaned against the bank and pulled Tom to him, the boy's back resting against his bare chest. He put his legs around Tom's and put the stem of his pipe against Tom's lips. "Here," he said. "You earned it."

Tom eagerly took the stem into his mouth and pulled on it. Blowing out a stream of grey smoke from his lips, he didn't cough once. "Thank ya, Huck," he said as his friend kissed and licked on his neck. He puffed again and said, "That was mighty good. Can we do it again?" He handed the pipe back to Huck.

Huck sucked on the stem and exhaled the smoke. "Sure thing, Tom. Jus' let my pecker rest for a bit, and ah promise to fuck ya good." He pulled Tom's head to the side and stuck his tongue against the boy's lips.

Tom opened his mouth and accepted it, and the boys kissed deeply and repeatedly for a long time until their peckers got stiff again, and they fucked the rest of the afternoon under that old bridge.