TRAVELER
Chapter nine

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.

I pointed Traveler's© nose on for greener pastures and whatever lay ahead along I-10. I had toyed with taking I-12 out of Baton Rouge, but had chosen to stay with 10. I guess I wouldn't have had a sweet piece of jock ass had I turned, but now I was turned off to New Orleans. I pulled off the road when I got over the I-10/I-510 bridge and into Mississippi. At Pennington I took US 90 along the coast to Gulf Port. I spotted a nice stretch of white sandy beach with a large parking lot and picnic shelters nearby. I pulled in and parked. I cooked up a plate of scrambled eggs and sliced some ripe, red tomatoes. I poured a large glass of tomato juice and a cup of coffee. Placing everything on a tray I walked out to a table and ate in the cool morning breeze coming in off of the Gulf.     I pointed my 40x zoom digital camera in every direction for my travel log. I was the only one on the beach for as far as I could see in any direction. I put my dishes inside and grabbed my Speedo and a towel, I ran to the surf like a kid his first time at the seaside. I ran straight out into the water and dove into a wave crashing toward me. I swam out about two hundred feet and floated as I took stock of where I was. I began a leisurely swim back to shore when I saw a pickup truck with a badge type emblem and flashing lights on the roof racing down the beach in my direction.     I came ashore and picked up my towel as the truck slid to a halt in front of me. "Can't you see the flags? You got a death wish? What's wrong with you?" I was berated by the driver as he slid from behind the wheel of his truck.     I told the irrate old man that I had no idea what he was talking about. I told him that I came from a state with miles and miles of sandy beaches, but no water. He looked at me like I was crazy and I told him that I came from Arizona. He laughed so hard he had to sit back in his truck. When he could talk again he pointed down the beach to a flag pole. He told me that that flag was to let people know that the beach was closed because of sharks. He said a large shoal of sharks had been spotted in shallow water just up the beach and there was a high risk of shark attack.     I told him that I was glad that they wouldn't want me. I had just eaten breakfast and I would be too much of a meal for them at one time. He told me to sit here and enjoy myself as long as I wanted, but to stay away from the water. That sounded like good advice. As he drove away I noticed the large clump of bushes under a nearby tree sit up and stretch.     I walked over to find a very cute young Airman in camy fatigues trying to focus his eyes through a serious hang over. I extended a hand and pulled him upright. I offered him a cup of coffee and he followed me unquestioningly. I brought out the pot and another cup for him. I put out some day old donuts and offered him some eggs. He grimaced and held up a half eaten donut.     He was stationed up the road at Kessler AFB. He had gone off with another GI for a night of drinking and he got too friendly. When he offered to suck his buddies cock he was abandoned on the beach. I asked him if he was gay or drunk. He told me that he had sucked around with a kid in school, but thought he was over that. His buddy was drunk to the point of being touchy feelly and his old self got the best of him. He was afraid that he would get kicked out of the Air Force.     I offered him a shower and a chance to wash his vomit covered uniform then I would take him the seven or eight miles on to Keesler Air Force Base, I was headed toward Biloxi anyway. He looked at me, I told him not to worry, I was a cocksucker so he didn't have to guess. He either could or not, it was his choice and I wouldn't force myself. He was fucking cute. He stripped to his skivvies right there and I emptied his pockets for him. I wagged my finger at his issue white boxers and he blushed as he pushed them down. He had nothing to blush about. His five foot nine frame cradled a very nice five inch semi surrounded by the blondest blond crown of pubic hair I had ever seen. I licked my lips and smiled at him as I walked over to the side of Traveler© and raised one of the large panels. Behind the panel was a small size washer and dryer. I tossed his clothes in. I shucked my damp Speedo and tossed it in also.     "Now we can lay on the beach naked or go inside and fool around." His cock was already up and he gripped it and pushed it down in that feel good cock stretch. He walked toward the door and climbed the stairs. I pointed to the back bed. His cock led the way. I shut the door and joined him on the bed. Nothing was said. I took a sixty nine position to his prone body and engulfed turgid six and three quarter inches of thick boy meat. He was eighteen and had three and a half more years of service to do. This was his first assignment since basic. He was in communications school learning to speak, what he called, "Towel head." He was worried about Desert Storm, it was getting into full swing and more and more troops were being called up.     We had a nice, long, leisurely suck. He had sweet cum and I savored every drop. I found out his home was Kansas City. He went on and on about how beautiful the town was and how much he missed it. He told me about some of the greatest fishing places I had ever heard of. I enjoy relaxing with a spinning rod and reel next to a Bass filled, cold stream. He was making my mouth water for fresh fish. I had to suck his cock again to get my mind off of what wasn't near at hand. I guess we just have to settle for what we can get. It is tough when there is nothing to do, but suck a horny teenager's cock, especially when he just has to suck on yours also.     Peter was a back door virgin. I was eating his ass, my favorite lunch counter, and pumping three fingers in his tight hole when he asked me if it would hurt him. I picked up on his question and worked his tight little prostate. His butt tightened up and his cock swelled. I sunk the entire organ into my mouth and caught a nice load of his sweet boi milk then told him that it would hurt about that much. He begged me to break him in. I ate a little longer and did a four finger assault. I had to get him loose enough for my man meat.     I lined up and pushed in, ever so slowly. Pete arched his back and rose to meet me. His eyes were white as they rolled back into his head. He let out a long breath and I felt his whole body relax. I pushed in. I was over half way inside of him when I paused again. He opened his eyes as he smiled up at me. He began to fuck up, sucking more of my cock inside himself. I let the last few inches find the warmth that he offered me as his rectum conformed to the giant thickness of my cock in his most secret place. I began a slow fuck with long, drawn out strokes. His face took on a radiance that literally lit my world. He rose to meet me as I bent to him for a hard, face sucking kiss.     He was fucking back at me with a feverish frenzy. I picked up my pace and began to fuck his smooth body with all that I had to give. He was totally blemish free, every inch of his body was smooth and nearly hairless, except where a boy should have hair. I could well imagine myself with this boy for a long, long time.     We were both fucking at a maddening pace as the sweat ran from our bodies. His ass only got tighter the longer I fucked him. He was moaning and telling me how wonderful it was to feel my cock up in him. He had wanted to try this for years, but always chickened out. He shot a huge load of his creamy concoction between our bodies. I tried to maintain my pace as I scooped up a dollop to take to my mouth. Sweet Pete saw what I was after. He scooped up his own splooge and fed it to me, taking every other finger full to his own mouth. With his body cleaned I bent over to kiss him again and filled his hot, tight, young ass with a monster load as I felt him fire off another load of his own between us. I rolled over and began to lick his body clean as he turned and sucked my cock clean.     We stepped out of the shower as we heard the ding of the dryer. I grabbed my pair of shorts then walked outside to retrieve his clothes. He was right behind me, naked. I handed him his still hot underwear when he pulled me into a hot kiss. I stared into his emerald green eyes as he rubbed his sweet cock against me. He slipped on his drawers and then his tee shirt. He had just finished tying his boots and blousing his fatigue pants when an Air Force pickup pulled in. In the back door window of the crew cab was a poster with a cross hair type design on it centered on a silhouette of a man on a camel. The caption read, "I would fly ten thousand miles to smoke a camel."     I chuckled as his buddy climbed out of the truck along with a Master Sgt. E-8. His buddy started apologizing for deserting him. He was drunk and forgot that he wasn't in the car. Both boys were going to get an Article Fifteen, but the homo shit wasn't mentioned. Pete told his Sgt. how he puked on himself and I had helped him to clean up. He thanked me and started to walk away. He stopped as he remembered his cover and ran into Traveler© to retrieve the cap. He ran out and mounted the pickup and they drove away. He turned and waved at me. I felt a loss.     I closed everything up and climbed back inside. On the table where he had laid his fatigue cap was a letter. It was only an envelope, but it had his name and unit number on it and the return address was from someone of the same name in Kansas City. I guess he wanted to stay in touch. I put the information into my computer address book and climbed behind the wheel to move on eastward.     As I cruised through Biloxi I saw the sign pointing toward Kessler AFB. I sighed as I thought of our little beach party. He was one gorgeous hunk. I would like to spend a few weeks with that in my bed. I would like to part those sweet buns again. So there you have it. Is your friction enhanced by my fiction? Tell me about it at fisherman@iname.com PREVIOUS    HOME    NEXT 50% of all donations go to NIFTY to support their fine work. 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