The following contains descriptions of graphic sexual acts between consenting teenage boys. It is a work of pure fiction and has no basis in the real world. Any similarities between people and places is just simple and plain coincidence. Do not read this story if you are under 18 or the legal age in your area; or, if it is just down right illegal to read this material where you live. And, don't go any further if you don't want to read about gay/bisexuals falling in love and having sex.
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Strangers on a Train
by J. A. Adkins
Part 12-The Baden's
With wind-whipped hair and bodies still pumping with adrenaline, Cody, Jamie, Darren, and I pulled into-what I assumed was-a front yard. I glanced behind me at the wrought-iron arch hanging suspended over the road at the entrance to the farm. Darren had strangely eyed the name written in metal letters welded to the face. Cody silenced the engine of his four wheeler. Jamie quickly followed suit.
"Well, this is it!" Cody spread his arms out in a welcoming gesture. "My home sweet home."
I looked at the house again. A two story structure with a sharply pointed roof and peeling, egg-white paint on the walls being flaked away by dry winds. Healthy green boxwoods contrasted the faded paint color along both wings of the house. Wildflowers lined the stone walkway which had long since seen better days. Each stone was mired by a spider web of cracks. A few were now reduced to a state of crumbling gravel; and, still a few more were missing altogether. The foggy panes of glass were heavily freckled by a century of time passing them by. Gentle, shallow waves were stretched across the surface of each: the byproduct of gravity not letting its presence be forgotten. A wide covered patio was stretched across the front of the house, throwing the front door and most of the first floor windows into shadow.
"Cozy," I said, slowly removing myself from the seat of Jamie's four wheeler. The feeling in my legs and ass had still not completely returned. Almost every muscle and nerve tingled unpleasantly.
The sound of hinges peeling painfully away at time and space was suddenly followed by a deep voice reverberating out of the afternoon shadows on the porch, down through the air above the dusty, wooden steps, and into all of our ears. "Boys! What did I tell you about parking them noisy grease traps in my front ya-" The tall man with wire-framed glasses and a rounded head topped with thinning brown hair stopped dead in his tracks at the foot of the steps. A smile began to appear on his face. His eyes were suddenly fixed on Darren who stared and smiled back.
"Well, I'll be! If it ain't little Darren Brasier!"
Darren chuckled and nodded his head, walking with wide steps to meet the older man at the bottom of the porch. "Yes, sir."
The two men hugged, patting each other's backs. "Only ya' ain't so little anymore! By gosh! What's that ol' dad a yers been feedin' ya'?"
Darren smiled warmly. "Not enough. You know, I thought I recognized the name on the gate back there."
"Yep! What a small world it truly is!"
I watched him as he walked closer. He had a heavy, well muscled arm around Darren's shoulders. I could begin to make out his features better as they neared Cody, Jamie, and I. His wrinkled skin clung to his narrow, high cheek bones and sagged ever-so-slightly under his deep, gray eyes. The tip of his nose was slightly flared with a network of tiny blood vessels near the surface of the skin making it look redder than it normally might. His teeth and breath were tainted with decades of coffee and cigarettes. If I had to guess by looking at his face, I would say he was in his early fifties.
He wore a diamond-blue polo shirt tucked tightly into his boot cut work pants drawn together at his slim waist by a thick leather belt. He definitely wasn't dressed the way I imagined a farmer would dress. He looked at the two boys standing protectively in front of their small vehicles. "Where did ya' boys dig up Darren at?"
"He and his friend, here, washed up in the river down by the Grayson pasture." Cody said informatively, his voice uneasy and raised. It was obvious to me he was trying to hide something. I think it was obvious to everyone but his father. For the first time, it seemed, the man looked in my direction. Darren snapped to attention. "Oh, sorry. Umm, Taylor Chapman meet Dewey Baden."
We shook hands. His skin was dry and calloused. His fingers gripped mine as if he were studying them, learning every groove and imperfection by feel instead of sight.
"Dewey's an old friend of my father's. They used to work together."
The older man laughed. "Yes indeed/ Those were the good ol' days."
"Not the great old days?" I managed to ask, finally chiming into the conversation.
"Well..." Dewey looked around at the two younger boys. "The kinda work we did...there weren't nothin' great about it." A moment of resignation-or recognition-flashed Dewey Baden's oddly disproportion face. An air of seriousness haunted him, even when his beaming smile returned and he welcomed Darren and I into his home. I could see it in the way he looked back at Darren.
Inside the house, I couldn't shake the smell of bread. It was everywhere. It permeated from everything. It seemed to be coming from every room, getting stronger as we made our way through the lamp-lit living room crowded with eclectic styles of furniture and into the kitchen. A tall woman with a true hourglass figure stood at the sink, elbow deep in dishwater. Her curly blonde hair shimmered with a silver essence, like moonlight on ocean waves. She wore a white button-up shirt with the sleeves neatly and evenly rolled above her forearm. She turned slowly around to face us as we approached. Behind me, Cody and Jamie hustled up the wooden steps leading to the sunlight-veiled floor above.
"Honey," Dewey Braden started our introduction with, walking to his wife's side as he spoke. "Look who came to pay us a visit! Little Darren Brasier!"
The woman smiled a perfect smile. Her hazel eyes were the only contrast to her overall appearance of white, gray, and blue. "Well, hot damn! He ain't so little anymore, though!" She laughed wild and wholeheartedly. I couldn't help but smile. Her happiness filled the room and everyone in it. Such joy was alien to me.
"Come here," she commended playfully, stretching her wet arms out in front of her. "Come give ol' Aunt Maryln a hug!"
"What old?" Darren asked, hugging the woman who was obviously about the same age as her husband. Yet, still amazingly and captivatingly radiant. It was easy to see how and why Dewey had fallen in love with this one. "You don't look a day over twenty." He kissed her hand. I suddenly realized who I was falling in love with.
NO! It can't be love!... Can it?
Maryln laughed at Darren's manners. "Oh, stop it. I see you've got your father's charm."
Dewey sat down in one of the wooden chairs flanking the ellipsoidal table in the center of the room. "I'm curious, Darren, about what else you've got from your father."
"How is he, by the way?" Maryln asked, holding onto Darren with one arm around his shoulders.
Darren took a deep breath. "Dead," he said with a forced ease and strength. "He died about three months ago."
Maryln sighed with concern. "Oh, no."
Dewey lowered his head. The air of seriousness I had sensed outside was now blindingly obvious. A crater had suddenly been blown into the old man's heart. Maryln let go of Darren , sitting down across the table from her husband. Darren sat down between them, gesturing for me to do the same. Several minutes seemed to pass before Dewey composed himself enough to speak. He cleared his throat, nervously, first. "How... How did he die?"
I could see something dark and venomous uncurling inside Darren. It was in his eyes, twisted and hateful. It made me shutter nervously and for the first time I was afraid of the hatred he had within him. The hate he felt toward the man whom he now sought to take his revenge out on. "Orville Devoy."
Dewey drew in a deep breath. "What happened?"
"Dad tracked him down. He confronted him...almost had him trapped. Then, Devoy surprised him...shot him." He paused for a moment. Underneath that thundercloud of thick, black hatred boiling in the blacks of his eyes, a saddened warmth began to pool and puddle in the captivating blue surrounding each pupil. "I watched it all happen. I had been in the car. I was following Dad."
Dewey stared sternly, almost paternally at Darren. "And now you're after Devoy, aren't you?"
"Yes." Darren said, his voice breaking. He was trying to stay strong.
"Are ya' crazy, boy?"
"Dewey I watched my own father be murdered from ten feet away and I did nothing to stop it!" He paused to take a breath and wipe the tears he wasn't trying to hide anymore. Maryln put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm not going to just sit by and let Devoy walk away."
"But you're so inexperienced, Darren!"
I nodded my head, "He's had me convinced." The older couple turned and regarded me strangely. Maryln looked at me awkwardly, as if only just now aware that I was even in the room. I smiled curtly at her, my annoyance not very subtle. "Taylor Chapman," I said, extending my hand. "Darren and I met on the train."
"The train?" Maryln asked, confused.
"Yes. The Blue Sky Express. The 'newest in the fleet'." I said, raising my voice to sound like an announcer on TV.
"So how did you end up way out here?"
Darren pulled the attention back to him. I was thankful, but still annoyed. "I tracked Devoy onto the Blue Sky," Darren continued. "But he found out I was coming aboard. I bought a ticket but had one of the supervisors-who is actually an undercover federal agent also following Devoy-arrange to have me put in another room. That's how I met Taylor, here."
I let my mind slowly wander as Darren continued on, recounting most of the events that had occurred so far. I noticed that it had gotten quiet upstairs. I glanced around the kitchen, turning slightly in my chair to look down the short hallway leading toward the living room. Two young, tanned faces-cuter than anything I can remember-smiled at me from near the foot of the stairs. I smile casually back. Cody and Jamie had been listening in on the conversation. I looked back at them, questioningly. I wondered how long they had been there. I realized there were some things Dewey didn't want his own son's best friend to now about his past.
The younger boys jerked their heads up, looking toward something at the top of the stairs. The quick pitter-patter of approaching feet heralded the arrival of a slender, athletically toned girl with long blonde hair showering down each side of her angelic pink face. The two boys didn't move out of her way. Her protest suddenly muted the conversation around the table. I looked back in time to see Maryln roll her eyes. "Looks like Jody's come out of hiding." she said tersely.
"You remember Jody, don't ya' , Darren?" Dewey asked proudly as Jody stepped over the boys on the stairs and walked up the hall to the kitchen.
She stopped in the doorway. Her eyes sparkled like her heavily glossed lips. Darren stood up, taking in the sight of the five foot-ten inch tall, seventeen year old female in the short white tee shirt exposing her midriff and fitting so tightly to her body it pushed against her full, round breasts. They looked like they were trying to escape. I wondered how she was able to breath in that shirt or sit down in the shorts she was wearing. They came to a stop high on her thighs. The denim skin wrapped around her thin waist and stretched over her bubbly butt. I hated the bitch already.
It was the way Darren stood up when she entered the room. It was the way his face lit up and his eyes glazed over as he studied the sculpturesque body beside me. It was the dumbfounded tone in his voice when he finally spoke, answering Dewey's question. "Ye...Yes. But...It's been so long."
Dewey stood up, standing beside his trophy child. He hugged her close with one arm. "I know it! Last time ya' two saw each other, Darren you were about as high as my waist and Jody was just about to turn six."
Little Miss Hoity-Toity sauntered flirtatiously around the table to Darren who followed her as if in a trance. "Nice to make ya' acquaintance, again." Jody said, her words a mire of backwoods drawl.
"The pleasure..." Darren started to say as he nodded his head in a miniature bow.
"Is all mine," Jody added with a smile, finishing Darren's statement. I hated that smile. I wanted to leap across the table as she took Darren's hand in hers. He kissed the top of it.
Darren looked her over again. "You certainly have grown," he commented. His voice cracked uncomfortably.
She smiled , looking him up and down subtly before saying, "I'm sure I'm not the only one."
In my mind I had just tackled her to the ground. The obvious double meaning in her comment slapped me hard on the face. I sat bitterly, watching the two of them chitchat briefly. Dewey smiled, "It feels like this house is complete now."
Darren blinked, suddenly coming back to reality. He faced away from Jody to look at Dewey. "Oh, Dewey old friend. Taylor and I can't stay. We've got to get back on board the train." He managed to remember my name. What a surprise, I thought angrily to myself.
"I understand," the older man said regretfully. "But ya' may have to wait until morning.
Maryln nodded her head, rising out of her chair. "I agree. You boys could do with some real food and not that dee-hydrated crap they serve on those trains." I liked the way she had accidentally over emphasized the first syllable in "dehydrated".
"It's settled then!" Jody beamed, grabbing Darren by the waist. I stood up angrily, almost knocking my chair over.
"I'll walk over to George Hentley's place in the morning and get the car back from him. That way I can drive ya' to the next station."
Darren looked across the table at me. "You don't mind, do you, Taylor?"
I narrowed my eyes bitterly and spoke with a sharp tongue. "No. Not at all."
"Good, Dewey shouted. "Oh, but I do have just one rule." He glanced around between Darren, Jody, and I. "Ya' boys keep her hands off my daughter."
"Oh, daddy. They ain't no harm. Especially Darren, here." Jody giggled at him. "Ain't that right, Darren?"
Darren cleared his throat and struggled to free himself from the space Jody was occupying in the kitchen. "Completely understood, Dewey!"
I felt the older man's eyes locked on me. I regarded him slowly. "Oh, you'll have nothing to worry about from me."
Dewey smiled, pleased and relieved. "Good. And now...for dinner!"
I sat in a room, silent and alone. I was probably borderline pouting. I couldn't really understand why, though. My eyes were fixed on one of the posters tacked to the walls of the oddly shaped , rectangular room. A half-naked teenage boy was jumping into the air to spike a volleyball. There were a dozen more like around the room. Boys without shirts or pants or even both doing athletic things; or even some were just standing around strumming guitars. One picture had the image of a singer in a leather beanbag chair. His electric guitar was laying across his naked groin, keeping the picture from being obscene. The funny thing was, these were not in the room one might think to find them. This was Cody's room.
I was sitting with my knees against my chest amidst a nest of dusty old sheets and comforters hardly used by anyone in this family. To my right, settled against the skin of posters covering the wall, was Cody's bunk bed. Darren was supposed to be sleeping on the top. I chose the floor because I didn't want to be near Darren. This was one reason I didn't go walking with him after dinner. I had let myself become attached to a straight boy. I began to hope for what was impossible. And like so many times before when I did the same, I was left a crushed and wrecked heap of human flesh and emotion.
He was still out there, now, walking the edge of Devoy's property. Jody was with him. She had told her parents she would keep an eye on him. She wanted to hear all about his adventures and what her daddy's job had been. I couldn't shift my eyes the slight degree to the right they would need to travel to see the window facing out over the backyard and fields. I focused my thoughts, banned my imagination from picturing what Jody and Darren were doing somewhere out amongst the rows of wheat and whatever else they grew here.
I tried to think of my childhood. I tried to remember things from a time now so long ago. A life that seemed so simple and...enjoyable when compared to the storm of events in recent times. This only brought up the darkness, the images I was trying to forget. Luckily my stream of consciousness was interrupted. My heart skipped a beat when the door behind me was suddenly flung open.
Almost instantly I was able to regain my composure. Cody stood in the doorway leading into the room, smiling at me. He had insisted that Darren and I sleep up here instead of downstairs in the living room. "Sorry," he said, still standing in place. "I didn't mean to scare you."
I sat there staring at him silently for a moment-longer than I had intended. Next to Darren, Cody had to be one of the most beautiful boys I had ever seen. His short, curly blonde hair and golden-baked skin glowed in the warm light washing over his body from inside his room. His arms bulged with developing muscles from the shorn-off sleeves of the extra long, orange tee shirt covering most of his body. The tail of the coverall ended just above his knees. I wondered what was underneath it.
"You didn't," I said softly at last.
"Good." He walked into the room and closed the door. "Darren's not back yet?"
"Nope." I watched Cody as he walked carefully over the blankets of my makeshift bed to his own. He wiggled his ass flirtatiously at me. But did he do it on purpose? "Where's Jamie"
"He went home. But he'll probably be back tomorrow."
"Oh," I said simply, looking away as he sat down on the edge of his bed, stretching his legs out in front of him. The orange shirt raised only slightly.
Cody glanced around the room then back at me. "Are you sure you wanna sleep on the floor? You could always sleep up here...with me."
I smiled politely, even curiously. But my better judgment was telling me I shouldn't. "Thanks, Cody. But I'm okay down here."
Cody shrugged his shoulders. He turned in his bed, bringing his legs onto the comforter. His movements were too quick to see anything. "Okay," he said as he moved. "Just don't freak about the ants."
I had started to lay my head down but instantly sat upright again at his last sentence. "What ants?"
Cody looked over at me, "Oh, just these weird black ants I see on the floor from time to time." He blinked, surprised , when he finished talking for I was already sitting in front of him on his bed. His legs were crossed but the coverall raised enough off his hips to reveal only the tanned, naked skin of his lower thighs. He smiled at me.
"You don't mind if I sleep up here, then?"
"Not at all," he chuckled.
I was wearing only a pair of tight boxers Jake had included with the porter's uniform. I assumed they were his. A noticeable bulge had begun to form in the front of the smooth fabric. I caught Cody staring at it. He looked up at me, still smiling. I blushed slightly, but didn't really do anything to hide my swelling erection. Before I could say anything, Cody reached his hand into the fly of my boxers. His young fingers gripped my hardening member firmly as they pulled it into the open.
"Wow," he said with an excited whisper. "Your's is really nice."
I blushed again. "Thank you."
He massaged the head and length of my painfully stiff penis. I closed my eyes, sighing contentedly at the pleasure he was giving me. He stopped after a few moments, causing my eyes to open with a start. He shifted back on his bed a little, giving himself room to spread his legs open. There before me were the young jewels of his boyfriend. His hardened cock stretched out at least five inches from the light dusting of curly, blonde pubic hair on his groin. His round, heavy balls laid sluggishly on the comforter. He smiled at me. "Touch..." he said, whispering. It was more like a command.
I reached forward, letting my fingers pass under the tail of his shirt and glide over his hot skin. I found his dick and rubbed it softly, investigatingly. I felt his scrotum, cupping his steamy, smooth balls in my hand. He spread his legs more, leaning his head back. I let my fingers travel further down his body to his hairless, clean crack. He moaned softly then leaned forward again, kissing me on the lips. I was surprised, but only for a moment. I kissed him back, parting his eager lips with my tongue to explore inside his mint-tasting mouth. After a minute or two, he broke away. He was breathless, taking a moment to let himself catch up before he spoke. "Do you want to get naked?"
"Yes," I said without even thinking; without realizing what I was saying.
I started to object, but he had already tossed his shirt aside and was pulling at the waistband of my boxers. I pushed my hips up, lifting my already naked ass off the bed so he could pull the tight fabric town past my groin and off my legs. He grabbed my package with both hands, squeezing me tight. At the same time, he leaned into me, wrapping his lips around my own.
I sighed contentedly. The pleasure I was feeling from Cody's playful, curious movements were a welcomed change to the anger and hurt I had been consumed by. I was mad at Darren, furious with his behavior around Jody. It was...so...so disappointing. Suddenly, that's when I realized it. I became so aware of who I had really been angry at: Myself. Darren had no responsibility for my feelings. I was the one who had been reading into his actions, his words and mannerisms.
"Wait," I heard myself say from what seemed like miles away. "Stop."
Cody froze in mid-stroke on my precum-slick shaft. "What? Am I doing this wrong? I just wanted you wet so we could fuck. Do you want me to fuck you first?"
I tried not to smile. Yet, the innocence tainted with anxious desperation was...adorable. "No, you're doing fine. But I don't think we should."
"We can't do this," I simply said in answer to his question. "I can't do this." I took a deep breath. "It isn't right. I can't make you break your trust, the bond you have with Jamie." Cody looked at me strangely. "What you guys have is something special. Hold onto that. Hold onto him, Cody."
He nodded dumbly. I knew he didn't completely understand what I was telling him. I was confident that someday he would; just hopefully not as long as it took me. Amazing is the world through the eyes of youth.
Just then, footsteps outside the door brought a pillow over my exposed parts and sent Cody's lower half retreating under the fold of his blanket. The door opened inward with a sudden and swift whoosh of air. From the dimly lit hallway, Darren walked in with an anxious and frustrated haste. Instantly he found me, his index finger pointing at my body. "Okay! You and I have to talk!"
I narrowed my eyes. The slight anger that suddenly sparkled was genuine. But it wasn't enough to really feel mad. I had to fake the rest. "Did you enjoy your fuck...I mean walk with Jody?"
Darren stepped back, abashed and apparently offended. "What?!"
"You heard me!" I hissed.
"And so did I!" screamed Dewey as he charged into Cody's now crowded bedroom; the mouth of his shotgun leading the way.
Darren turned and jumped with a panicked surprise. "Whoa! Dewey what the hell are you doing?!"
Dewey cocked the gun. "I warned ya', Darren! I warned ya' to stay away from her!"
Darren back closer to the open window behind him. His hands were raised in the air, trembling. "Dewey I didn't! I swear! I didn't even-"
"I warned ya', Darren! Damn it, boy, I loved ya' like a son!"
"Dewey wait!!" Darren's scream tore through the room. It froze Dewey in his place, his finger hovering a millimeter from the trigger of his gun. "I didn't touch her! Hell, I didn't even know she followed me. I walked to the pond at the end of the orchard. I never saw Jody." He took a deep breath. The volume of his voice had slowly returned to normal. "I swear, Dewey. I didn't do anything with her."
Dewey glared, "Well someone did. She came in all flushed. Her mama says someone was with her! So if it wasn't ya', then who?"
Cody cocked his head a little to the right. Something in the windowsill behind Darren had caught his attention as well as mine. "Maybe it was the boy climbing into my window," he said simply.
Darren's eyes went wide before he flew to the floor, diving out of the way and giving Dewey a clear line of sight. A young, lanky boy with thick, curly red hair and short, round face appeared outside the window. He was out of the breath and struggling to keep his grip on the window sill. "Jody," he called out desperately. Then, he looked up. His eyes locked onto the barrel of the loaded and primed shotgun trained on his head. "Oh, shit. Wrong room."
Dewey screamed. The boy let go of his grip, falling backwards out of sight a split-second before the gun went off. I ducked against the wall, finding myself face to face with Cody. As the echo of the shot faded from my ears and the flash of the muzzle flare dissipated in my eyes, I saw Dewey run to the window. "Damn you, Benny Jenson!" Dewey yelled before firing another shot out of the window after the fleeing boy.
On the wake of noise from the second shot, Jody and Maryln barreled into the room making a commotion all the more painful on the ears. Jody was crying and pleading with her father to leave her boyfriend alone. Maryln was cursing at him for firing his gun in the house; and cursing at Jody simultaneously for lying to her parents. The trilogy of noise slowly floated out of the bedroom. Darren looked back and forth between the window and the door. Then, he looked at me. His eyes glared with an indignant look of "I told you so" before he, too, stormed out of the gunpowder-reeking bedroom.
The sound of the door slamming sent me collapsing onto my back. In an instant Cody was on top of me. His smooth skin was pressed against almost every inch of mine. His hard, throbbing cock rubbed my own. "So do ya' wanna fuck now?"
I laughed with a sigh, kissing him on the forehead and hugging him close. "No."