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FADE IN:


"WILDE BOYS AT BIG HORN"


SCENE: EXT PORCUPINE CAMPGROUND, WYOMING - DAY

A lodgepole pine, spruce, and aspen forest, a camping nirvana at 8,800 feet in Big Horn National Forest.

A 1970s Motorhome in two-tone pearlescent grey with a bronze diagonal stripe stops at an open gate. The driver, BRADEN, rolls down the window. He drives through and around an unpaved loop.

The campground is empty except for two tents, an Airstream trailer, and a converted pickup pulling a trailer.

BRADEN (40s) reverses into one of the few spaces without fallen branches. Pine trees on either side frame a private panorama of an alpine range.

SCENE: INT WILDE Motorhome – Continuous

Braden sets the brake and adjusts the rear airbag to level the motorhome. He switches the radio to OUTLAW COUNTRY.

Behind him, two boys look up from the table. DAKOTA (11) aka Kota, and MONTANA (9) aka Tana, are both blond and cute.

Braden steps to the dining area, his gaze on the boys as they stick kid-superhero-tattoos on each other’s arms.

Braden

Boys with tattoos, that’s sexy as a boned-up Big Bird!

In a saucer of water sits a yellow ceramic statue of Big Bird with an erection instead of a beak. The boys use it to submerge tattoos.

Dakota

Right there, it proves you’re a pedo, Uncle B.

Braden

Then, you better not bend over, Fag-boy.

Dakota

(grins)

I double-dog dare you to stick your dick in me.

Braden

No way. Tana’s cute little ass maybe.

MONTANA

(giggles)

You can if you want, Uncle B.

Dakota

You wanna pick my next tat, Pedo?

Braden leans over them, flicks through tattoos. Most are superheroes in action. He picks a blue Superman S.

Braden

This’ll look great on your butt.

Dakota

No way you’re getting near my tush.

Dakota strips off his T-shirt, wipes his chest with rubbing alcohol, positions the tattoo, dabs a damp paper towel on the paper side, carefully lifts off the backing.

Also now shirtless, Montana picks a red ‘S’ and points to his abdomen. Braden wipes the area and positions the tattoo a little lower than his brother. It lines up with nipples.

Side by side, lean and tawny, impudently showing off ‘S’ tattoos.

Montana

We’re the Wilde Super Boys.

DAkota

(smirks at Braden)

More like Wilde Sexy Boys, huh Pedo?

Braden

Yours needs to be lower, Fag-boy; where the sexy stuff is.

Dakota

Suck my dick!

Braden smirks. At the center console, he cranks the volume.

Braden

Here’s some music for my two sexy boys. Dance with the devil, guys.

The Devil Went Down to Georgia blasts from the speakers. He ogles his now half-naked nephews, and sings

BRADEN

When he came upon a boy playing on a fiddle And playin' it hot…

Dakota and Montana jump up as the Devil finishes. Stripped to the waist, they air-fiddle Fire on the Mountain, gyrating, pelvic thrusting in high-energy-redneck mode.

By the time they segue into Chicken in the bread pan pickin' out dough, they’re pretend-corn-holing each other. Braden laughs.

Braden

Seems I got me two pussy boys fer the summer; who would’ve thunk?

DAKOTA/MONTANA

I done told you once, you son of a bitch, I'm the best that's ever been.

They’re done dancing. Dakota flops against the kitchen counter, leans back, displays boyhood, a thumb poking into his shorts. He gives Braden his thumbs-up sign. Montana giggles, stops, starts, unable to control it.

Montana

He wants you to jack him off.

Instead, Braden scoops up Montana, twirls him around, lip-smacks the boy, and yanks down his shorts. He’s erect too.

Braden

Look at you, just like your bro.

He tweaks Montana Junior, teases taut little boy-dick, tugging away on the tender spike, masturbating his youngest nephew, all stiff and horny. Montana giggles, not pulling away. Pushing closer, he whimpers, twitches.

Dakota

You need to jack him faster to give him the feeling, Pedo.

Braden rubs with his first finger and thumb, boy-dick glowing pink. Faster jerking tantalizes the kid. Baby-balls scrunch up. Montana gasps, tries to back away, trembles.

Suddenly, he giggles strangely. His pink-hued boyhood pulses. He sags like a deflating pool toy.

Braden puts an arm around him. He’s surprised how quickly it came on. Montana hugs him. Braden grasps his butt, thumbs on his hips, fingertips digging into boy-crack, schooling the youngest Wilde in Gay Sex 101, just the basics.

Braden

About time you learned how to air-fuck, Tana.

He play-humps the nine-year-old, jerking the little pelvis back and forth until instinct and lust take over.

Braden

Pretend you’re in Kota’s boy-pussy.

Dakota and Montana exchange smirks.

Montana

Shay wants to stick him first.

Dakota

Shut up, Dickhead! Maybe I’ll tell Shay to stick you, instead. I bet you’ll love every second.

Braden

Okay guys, you need to calm down.

DAKOTA

Who was it whacked off my little bro?

BRADEN

I know the perfect way to burn off some of that boy energy.

SCENE: ext porcupine campground - later

At the rear of the motorhome, Braden stretches. The boys wear dinosaur T-shirts and skimpy shorts. They do kid aerobics as Braden supervises.

Braden

Give me a reason why Wilde school should have gym every day?

Montana

(giggles)

Because you want us to stay sexy.

Dakota

(grins)

Nothing worse in bed than a porky boy. You can’t find his dick for the fat rolls.

Braden cuffs Dakota and hugs Montana. He’s still laughing as he unstraps mountain bikes from a carrier. The boys fit water bottles. They cycle off, Dakota, Montana, and Braden in the rear, watching two little butts.

Dakota

(looks around)

How far are we going, *Dad*?

BRADEN

All the way, Kota-son.

(chuckles)

Just not for a while.

As they pass the Airstream, a woman gets up from the picnic table. Braden smiles, waves. She beckons them over.

WOMAN

I thought I heard a vehicle go by. Sorry, but we’re closed until mid-June.

dakota

(catches Braden’s eye)

Oh shit.

(meek shrug)

Sorry, Mam. I kinda saw ‘closed’ online. Most places open in May. I thought it was a mistake.

WOMAN

(smiles)

We’re still getting cleaned up. No toilets or showers, and it’s real chilly in the evenings.

Montana

I wish we could stay. It’s so peaceful here.

The woman looks him over, sweet voice, curly-blond, pretty as a girl. She smiles and steps closer, touches his hair.

WOMAN

Oh my, you’re both blessed by the Lord. Well, now you’re here, stay for tonight. No charge.

Dakota

But Ma’am, it’s thirty bucks a night, plus five for firewood.

WOMAN

(winks)

Such nice boys, I can’t hardly charge you. Now, if you’re off to Porcupine Falls, keep an eye out for moose.

Montana

What about grizzly bears?

WOMAN

Might be some so keep your distance. It’s only five miles. Stay on the forest road, keep going left. Leave your bikes at the top and hike down. You’ll have it all to yourselves.

(smiles at Montana)

Praise the Lord, you got yerself two angel boys, Mister.

SCENE: EXT porcupine campground LOOP ROAD – LATER

Braden, Dakota, and Montana cycle past the converted pickup with a trailer behind. Two men watch as they drink from beer cans. Dakota and Montana exchange glances and begin to swerve their bikes back and forth, pretending to be drunk.

SCENE: EXT FOREST ROAD – LATER

They ride on a dirt road, Montana and Dakota passing, chasing, doing wheel-stands. Braden smiles, stares longingly at boy-butts.

Braden v.o.

Who knew my little devils were angels? They’re both so damn fuckable.

Dakota pulls away, pretending he’s racing. Head down, butt sliding back and forth, humping the seat while his lithe legs pump the pedals. The bike swerves into gravel, almost slides.

Braden

What in the Hell is he doing?

Montana

With Kota, who the Hell knows?

Braden pedals faster, slowly gaining ground, pulls alongside.

Braden

Pull over, driver. Looks like your seat’s loose.

Dakota skids to a stop. Braden dismounts, sets the kickstand.

Dakota’s Diamondback Line24, lightweight aluminum frame, a legit mountain bike for a kid. The bike seat is standard, black, firm, ergonomically sculpted for boy-butt.

Braden grasps the bike by the seat, checks for movement. The front of the seat is hot and hard, surprisingly smooth.

Braden

Is your seat slippery or what?

Dakota

It’s fine. I was just clowning around, that’s all.

He stares at the ground, face reddening.

Braden

You fall off your bike, you’ll wish you’d been paying attention!

Dakota

I was paying attention. My butt felt funny so I tried to rub it on the seat. I got this weird rush all of a sudden.

Braden

Sounds like an itchy boy-pussy to me. Tana been corn-holing you?

Dakota

He’s too small to do anything.

BRaden

Don’t bet on it. Two inches in tight little boy pussy will give you a cum to remember.

The shocked look on Dakota’s face is priceless.

Dakota

Pedo for sure!

Braden grins, mounts his bike, flips the stand, turns.

Braden

Itch away, Fag-boy. Just don’t rip a hole in your britches.

SCENE: EXT PORCUPINE FALLS - Later

Pine trees tower overhead, pine needles crunch underfoot. The boys toss and kick pine cones. Montana sniffs his hands.

Montana

Everything smells like Grandma’s house.

Dakota

More like Eau du Toilette Bowl Cleaner. Uncle Brade, you need to buy air freshener for the RV. Like lilacs or lemon shit.

They run down the path, whooping, disappearing behind a rock face. Braden shouts after them:

Braden

Be careful, guys. Watch out for grizzly bears.

The distant sound of water running. The path becomes difficult, slabs of wood, then steeper, carved into rock.

He enjoys the spectacular scenery, descending into a gorge, glimpses of water among shadow, enjoying peace and quiet. Always no sign of the boys when he turns the next corner. He smiles and shrugs.

The stairs end in pebbly sand, dark green water beyond. At the end of the gorge, a waterfall cascades. Spruce trees tower overhead. He looks around dreamily.

They leap out at him, Wilde ‘injuns’ screeching. He scoops up Montana, one hand cupping his crotch, the other hand grabbing a scrawny arm. Flings him over his shoulder, pinning the 9-year-old in place. Montana pummels his back.

Montana

(shrieks)

I’ll pee if you don’t put me down. Really. I’m not kidding.

Braden

Better not little boy! I’ll tie a knot in your dick.

Dakota

(laughing)

Pee on the pedo, Tana! Do it and I’ll give you five bucks.

Montana

I really got to go. Down please?

Braden

Little liar! Pee on me, I’ll pee on your brother.

Braden feels heat on his shoulder. He grimaces as wetness spreads, front and back. His shirt darkens. Boy-pee reaches his shorts.

Unaware, Dakota bounces on his toes, jumps back, sidestepping, zooming in to attack, fast and agile, chortling. He stops abruptly.

DAkota

Fuck! Tana really pissed on you!

Braden swings Montana off his shoulder and onto the ground. Montana hangs his head. Both of them are soaked.

Montana

I told you I needed to go.

Braden scowls. Montana sniffs and blinks, wipes a tear.

Montana

I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.

Bottom lip pushes out, he looks up hopefully. Braden sighs. He strips off his shirt, Montana’s, too.

Braden

Shorts too, you little piss ant!

Montana

But people will see me.

Braden

What people?

(looks around)

If there were, I bet we could charge five bucks to see your cute little wiener.

(looks at Dakota)

You encouraged him, so you strip, too. Plus you owe him five bucks.

He turns away, hides a smirk. The boys strip off shorts and undies. He turns back. They are naked except for sneakers, identical circumcised boy dicks, stubby with tiny pink helmets.

Temporarily subdued, they follow Braden into the water. As they splash, he swirls T-shirts, shorts, and undies, squeezes out water, tosses them onto a boulder.

MONTAGE OF SKINNY DIPPING

Laughter echoes through the Wyoming wilderness.

Naked boys do back flips from Braden’s shoulders.

Naked boys and man have a peeing contest

Naked boys wrestling with naked man.

Naked boys and man diving from a boulder.

Naked boys and man tanning on same boulder.

END MONTAGE

The same huge granite boulder, the pool in shadow. Dakota lies on his side, his leg lifted up, showing a crinkled ballsac.

He watches Montana sculpting animal tracks in the sand. Suddenly, he glances at Braden. Nervous, he whispers:

Dakota

If a guy does sex stuff with another guy, he’s gay, right?

Braden

(smiles)

Not always. Two boys can mess around and it doesn’t mean squat.

Dakota’s nudges Braden with his foot.

Dakota

What if they’re boyfriends?

Braden

You mean boyfriends as in they go on dates?

Dakota

I mean they make out and touch each other’s dicks and stuff.

Braden grabs his foot, tweaks toes, tickles the sole until Dakota jerks his foot away.

Braden

Hey boyfriend, I love your foot. So soft with six little piggies.

Dakota snickers. All of a sudden, Braden sees his little curved penis is pink and straining. He twists the big toe.

Dakota

Stop being a doofus.

(hesitates)

Last night, what we did; that was sex play, right? So, am I gay?

Braden

We fooled around, that’s all! I was joking, Kota.

Dakota

You didn’t act like you were joking.

(hesitates)

Plus your dick got really big.

Braden

He’s a beast, butt ugly and dumb as a rock.

Dakota

Not Beastie. He’s cute, and smart, for a dick.

He clasps his erect penis. His swollen glans pokes between his fingers, demanding attention. A fingertip tickles as he keeps an eye on Braden.

Dakota

It gets hard even when I don’t touch it. Why?

Braden rolls onto his side, shields his eyes from the sun. Dakota’s slender body arches with the curve of the boulder, emphasizing muscles, tendons, and ribs. His upright penis is small, yet perfect.

Braden

Boy dicks do have that tendency.

DAkota

Um, I know we’re not really boyfriends, but you can play with my dick if you want.

Braden smiles. He stares at his nephew’s middle, tempted.

A rocky gorge with towering pines, a beautiful boy-child, romantic, dramatic, primal, the glowing sunlight of an Albert Bierstadt painting from a long-past era.

Braden closes his eyes. The image persists. B&&W with camera unfocused: Boyhood is ethereal, timeless, sexually potent. He licks his lips, makes an ‘O’, just big enough for the plump little glans.

FLASHBACK

A different boulder in dappled sun, 9-year-old Madison displays his Neil-nude body for Weston-Wilde. Masturbating shamelessly for his father’s VHS video camera.

END FLASHBACK

Montana stands, brushes off sand, clambers onto the boulder. He looks down as Braden looks up. He smiles at childish genitalia, desire in a drawn-out sigh.

Braden

(murmurs)

This is why I love boys.

(chuckles)

Sometimes, when you think sexy thoughts you get a stiff dick. It’s normal, Kota.


Dakota

I wasn’t thinking anything.

Braden

It’s also your dick’s way of saying he’s lonely.

(cups hand to ear)

Hi Kota, want to play with me?

Montana

Mom said playing with it is a dirty habit.

Braden

That’s insane, Dude. It’s your dick, not hers. Play with it all you want; just don’t let her see you doing it.

Dakota

You saying it’s okay to jack off?

Braden

Do it as much and as often as you want. Your dick might get a bit sore, but that’s all. It’s normal, natural, too.

Dakota grins, reaches, presses his thumb on boy-dick. It springs back. He flips at it. Again, harder, then poking it down. He grips tightly, twisting his wrist. Two fingers cuddle immature testes.

Braden

You’ll tear it off like that. Be gentle, or you’ll hurt him.

Dakota looks up. He smiles at Montana, on hands and knees, staring from only inches away.

Dakota

How should I do it?

Braden

He’s only a little guy. Hold him between your thumb and first finger and go up and down. It feels nicer if he’s slippery.

Dakota

Slippery, how?

Braden

Your dad and I used Crisco.

Montana

(looks up, giggles)

You criscoed your dicks?

Braden

If you want, you can try some after dinner. Meanwhile, spit will do just fine.

He watches Dakota drool saliva. His hand moves, spitty thumb and index finger pressing lightly. New, powerful sensations make him quiver. He twitches, giggles, stops.

Dakota

Makes me feel all shaky inside.

Montana grins, spits on his fingers, twiddles his glans.

Braden

Now you know how big boys jack off. They usually don’t stop until the feeling gets really strong.

Dakota

Isn’t stuff supposed to come out?

Braden

Uh huh; only with your tiny nuts it’ll take a couple of years.

Braden reaches for his still-damp T-shirt and shorts. Montana shyly touches his brother’s erection. Thumb and index finger rub gently. Dakota nods hopefully.

Montana

He has to jack off for a couple of years? No way, Jose!

Braden laughs and tosses the smallest T-shirt at him.

Braden

Trust me, Crisco is way quicker.

SCENE: Ext WILDE MOTORHOME - Night

The boys wear fleecy grey tracksuits with hoodies. They sit around a small campfire, just embers. They toss in pinecones, smoking before flaring up. The burst of warmth brings grins from the boys.

Dakota yawns, chews a straw, peeking at Braden. Beside him, Montana tries to shuffle cards. He peeks, too, just not as often.

Braden

It’s here if you want to try greasing the monkey before you spank it. Bring it inside when you’re done.

He relocates a can of Crisco from beside his chair tothe picnic table.

Braden

Just remember, you aren’t getting ready to cornhole each other. A little dab will do ya. All you need is enough to lose the friction. Don’t want to take the edge off.

Dakota meets his smirk with frown.

Dakota

What’s that s’posed to mean?

Braden

There’s almost no movement when a boy’s cut extra tight like you two are. It feels really good, only you can end up abrading the skin.

He carries plates into the motorhome. As soon as he’s inside:

Dakota

He’s such a dick.

Montana

(nervous whisper)

Kota, he said only if we wanted.

Dakota

Spit is one thing. No way am I puttin’ Crisco on my dick to jack off. Pedo’s probably watchin’ us from inside.

Montana

Why don’t you like him?

Dakota turns, looks at the motorhome, Braden’s silhouette in the window.

Dakota

I’m kiddin’, you dope. He’s cool. Something about him bothers me, but. He looks at me strange. Creeps me out.

Montana

He looks at me all the time.

Dakota

Only ‘cause yer dick is so tiny.

Montana

(whispers)

When he said he likes boys… he means for sex, right?

Dakota

(rolls his eyes)

Like I keep saying, he’s a pedo! He jacked you, didn’t he? Fuckin’ proves it.

Montana

He got stiff when you jacked off on the rock. A really big one.

Dakota

So did you. A really tiny one.

MONTANA

What he said about Big Bird’s dick? You think his was really that big at your age?

Dakota

He was kiddin’, Dope. Same as lettin’ us jack off with Crisco!

Montana

If his dick really was 3-1/2 inches at your age, that’s like yours and mine put together.

Dakota

You measured Big Bird’s dick? That’s so homo.

Dakota sticks the straw into a glass, sucks, squirts at his brother’s face. Snorts giggles as Montana wipes it off.

Dakota

What if it was cum and I squirted on your face?

Montana

Suck my dick!

(shuffles cards)

That game we play with Shay, we could play it with Uncle Brad?

Dakota

No way we’re playing strip poker with him!

He stands before the fire, folds his arms, stares at the silhouette. His hand lowers, slips under the waist of his tracksuit pants, massages deliberately, slowly.

He looks at the picnic table, walks toward it. He flips off the plastic lid, sticks his index finger into white lard, and scoops a lump. Montana deals cards, picks them up, shuffles unaware.

He looks up when Dakota giggles abruptly.

Dakota

Oh fuck! He’s right, Tana. Crisco feels really nice.

SCENE: INT WILDE MOTORHOME BEDROOM - NIGHT

Moonlight penetrates the bedroom windows. A small shadowy shape enters through the open door. Braden snores lightly, asleep under a black comforter.

Dakota holds up Braden’s cellphone, a dim glow. He opens a display cabinet and peers at the yellow ceramic Big Bird statue. He measures its orange phallic beak against his index finger. An inch short, and still he smiles.

He glances down. He’s naked. Nervous, he reaches for his stubby stiff penis. Way shorter than his index finger.

He steps to the bed. With Spiderman boxers in hand, he lifts back the comforter.

He stares at Braden’s bare middle, slowly inches the comforter away until he sees his uncle’s big flaccid penis. He breathes slowly, deeply.

He lifts the cellphone to his eye. His hand shakes. He switches it off and stands in darkness, staring down.

Gooseflesh covers his arms. He shivers, turns to leave.

Braden

(whispers)

Can’t sleep again, huh Babe?

Dakota

My feet got cold.

Braden

Okay, get in. Where’s your bro?

Dakota

Still jerking off with Crisco, duh.

Braden laughs, grabs Dakota’s hand, pulls him onto the bed and under the comforter. They wrestle, a few seconds of full body contact before Braden realizes, tosses him off. He switches on a reading lamp.

Braden

You are naked! Jesus! What am I going to do with you?

Dakota stretches, arms behind, reaching for a pillow. Braden leers at a lean torso, bumpy hips, twitchy erection. He smiles, nods approvingly.

Dakota

(shameless smirk)

Um... what do you want to do with me?

Braden

Now you’re all warmed up, send you back to your own bed.

Dakota

Why don’t you have hair there?


Braden

I’ll explain tomorrow. Bedtime, Bozo. I want to be at Grand Teton by lunchtime. We leave here at 8:00 sharp.

Dakota

I’ll go if I get a special hug.

Braden

You need to save special hugs for your boyfriend.

Dakota

How about a Bighorn hug instead?

Braden

What’s a Bighorn hug?

Dakota

(smirks, points)

I hug him. Big horn, get it?

Braden

I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.

Dakota

You touch my dick all the time. Why can’t I touch yours?

Braden

It’s past ten o’clock. You need to be in your own bed.

Dakota inches closer. He trembles when they touch. He whispers:

dakota

You want me to suck Beastie?

Braden

You’re joking. You are, right?

Dakota shakes his head, eyes down. Suddenly, he pulls a pillow over his face. Braden smiles, lifts it away.

Braden

Sucking a grown-up is a big step for a boy.

Dakota

Meaning I’m too young. Should’a expected that from you.

Braden

Being willing and able to do it is one thing; you’re not even close to ready.

Braden props his head, brushes back mussed-up hair.

Braden

You’re better off practicing with Tana, plus you won’t choke.

Dakota

What if I really, really want to?

braden

(thinks about it)

Kota, I know you’re willing.

Dakota

You can suck my dick if you want. I’m cool with it.

Braden

There’s nothing I’d like more.

Dakota

I want to suck you so bad.

Braden

Kota, desire isn’t the issue. Ready means you’re emotionally equipped to deal with it. You’re not there yet.


He gazes down, fondling long hair, caressing a soft cheek.

Dakota

Why do you keep looking at me like that?

Braden

For starters, you’re very good-looking. Your grandma said you and Tana are the best-looking boys west of St. Louis, and she’d be right.

Dakota

She’s as crazy as you are!

Braden

You want crazy? I look at you and I see an incredibly sexy boy.

Dakota

That’s so insane it belongs in an asylum.

Braden smiles, so infatuated he can’t stop looking.

Braden

Okay, if you must know… Kota…

(takes a breath)

I love you, Tana too. More than I ought to. I can’t help it. That makes me a you-know.

He breathes deeply, ashamed, yet his gaze is intense.

Dakota

You’re doing it again!

(stares hard at Braden)

You like it when I do it to you?

Braden

I look like a hungover zombie?

Dakota

You know what I mean. Guys at school look at chicks the same way. Like they want to eat them.

Braden grabs his shoulders and drags him on top. Dakota drapes him, face-to-face. Braden pushes away hair with one hand, kisses his forehead. His other hand rubs boy-butt. Dakota snuggles, hugging tightly.

An index finger trails the crevice, curling up, pressing in. A thumb and fingers split small pale buttocks. A fingertip touches the pucker, hot, tight, moist. It wriggles inside, barely. Dakota whispers:

Dakota

Now, we’re boyfriends, huh?

Braden massages the little rump. Long silky hair brushes his face. He sighs, and whispers:

Braden

You’re one sexy kid, you know.

Dakota

Do I drive you crazy?

Braden

Enough for a straightjacket.

Dakota smooches his chin, squirms higher, pokes out his tongue, giggles, plants his lips on Braden’s. His tongue goes inside. They jerk apart.

Braden

That was a little creepy.

Dakota

Sorry.

Braden

Eleven-year-old boys generally don’t use their tongues to kiss.

Dakota

It just sort of happened.

(shyly wets lips)

It was kind of nice though, huh?

Braden gently strokes his neck.

Braden

Really nice. Next time, take your time. Get used to kissing me first. Lick my lips. Let me suck it inside. You’ll enjoy it more.

Dakota pokes out the tip of his tongue, licks Braden’s lips. Braden sucks on it gently. Their lips seal. Both hands on boy-butt, he inserts his index finger. Dakota giggles, both of them pushing it past halfway.

Dakota

(whispers)

Boyfriends now, right?

Braden

What’s with the boyfriend thing?

Dakota

Some teacher. You don’t know anything.

Dakota attacks. They writhe and wrestle until he pulls away. He squats over Braden, wipes spit from his mouth, trembles, panting, boy-butt pressing down on Braden’s erection. He smirks gleefully.

Dakota

Beastie’s a hotdog in a butt-bun.

He wobbles his pelvis, grinds grown-up cock into boy-crack. Braden shudders, grasps Dakota’s hips to stop him.

Braden

Cut that out, young man!

Dakota

(innocently)

Cut what out, Uncle Brad?

Braden

Just so you know, Champ; no extra shotgun points for messing around. It’s not fair to Tana.

Dakota

What about boyfriend points? I’m thinking if I earn enough, we do sex stuff, right?

Braden

Move yourself up a grade.

Dakota

So I’m smarter than a fifth grader, cool!

Braden

That was some really hot kissing. You can do it whenever you want.

Dakota squirms against grown-up cock. Braden stops him again, pushes him to sit above his thighs.

Dakota

Beastie is kissing my boy-pussy.

Braden

What’s got into you, tonight?

Dakota

Promise you won’t tell Tana?

(hesitates)

I want us to be boyfriends.

Braden

That’s another really big step for a boy.

Dakota

I don’t like girls all that much. I’m not dumb, Uncle Brad. I figured out what it meant a long time ago.

Braden

You’re eleven! No boy your age likes girls.

Dakota

What if I’m gay?

Braden

You’re too young to know for sure.

Dakota

Don’t laugh, okay? All I think about is doing sex stuff with you. Doesn’t that prove I’m gay?

Braden

(smiles)

I loved boys at your age. The only way to find out is do it, see if it feels right. After a few times with Shay; if you really enjoy it, maybe you are.

Dakota

I really want to with you. Pretty please?

Braden

You’re serious, aren’t you?

(takes a breath)

Okay, just don’t blame me if you hate it.

Dakota scoots lower, plants his butt on Braden’s knees, takes a deep breath, licks his lips, opens his mouth. He trembles as he leans closer

braden

You know what to do, right?

dakota

I suck it, duh!

Braden bounces him onto the bed, pins him with his legs.

Braden

Even if you’re as queer as your dad, you’re not even close to being ready.

Dakota makes another crazy face. Braden slaps boy-butt. They wrestle, Kota’ pelvis thrusting, hard little boy-dick jerking. Braden tosses him onto his belly, tickles him.

Dakota

Can I jack you instead? Please?

Braden grabs his hands, yanks off the top sheet, wraps both arms and torso, and knots two corners. He flips Dakota onto his back, grabs his ankles and holds them on the pillow.

Braden

I’m going to sleep. Mummy-boy can stay here or go back to his own bed, but if I hear one more peep, I’m tickling tootsies.

Dakota

Untie me, Doofus.

Braden

That’s a peep right there!

He switches off the reading lamp and lies down. He pulls a little foot closer, under his cheek like a pillow, teasing, rubbing tiny toes to his nose. He strokes Dakota’s bony ankle, inhaling, touching his lips to soft smooth skin.

Dakota

(whispers)

My feet stink, huh?

Braden

(whispers back)

That’s peep number two.

He separates toes, twiddling each little piggy. He kisses the big toe, taking it between his lips. He soaks it with spit, sucks, chews playfully.

Dakota giggles, pushes his foot into Braden’s face. Excitement surges. He sucks other toes, one, two at time; now licking; not just toes, Dakota’s entire foot.

Dakota tugs back. Braden grasps, twisting the hot slippery foot, slurping over the sole. He feels muscles flexing in the slender smooth leg, tendons tightening.

Increasingly urgent, Braden turns to the other foot. More aggressive, hungry, he slathers saliva, gulping toes, rubbing both little feet on his face. More saliva, making everything slimy, both sexy boy-feet.

Dakota twitches, whispers urgently, his voice cracking.

Dakota

(husky whisper)

Rub your dick on my feet.

Braden flips him around, side-on on the bed, upper half trussed in a tangled black sheet, the bottom half exposed, feet together, knees pushed out.

Braden holds him in place, one hand clamping slippery little feet around his grown-up cock. His other hand controls boyhood. He fondles Dakota’s exposed sex organs.

His penis points up, stretched impossibly tight, the skin still greasy with Crisco residue. Braden jerks it with his thumb and index finger, quickly, spasmodically. His other fingers rub little boy-balls.

Dakota groans, gasps, writhes, a willing prisoner in the sheet. He watches Braden’s huge hard cock stab between his feet. Each thrust makes him shiver, each tempestuous jerk on his boy-cock almost yanking it off.

Braden shudders abruptly, strains to hold back. Gripping both feet, he ejaculates.

Dakota feels it spurt, blasts of hot, thick man-syrup. Suddenly, it covers his feet as slippery as soap. Braden stops thrusting, clamping little feet against his pulsing erection.

Dakota

Boyfriends now?

Braden

Yeah, boyfriends.

Braden’s erection fades, slowly shrinks. Dakota rubs his big toe on the puffy red knob, grins as semen leaks out.

Dakota

Beastie Bighorn sure makes a lot.

(giggles)

He really made a mess on my feet.

Braden

I think you wore him out.

Like animals after rutting, man and boy flop back, gasping. Braden struggles up, unties the knot, untangles the sheet. He wipes Dakota’s feet with religious devotion.

Braden

Settle down and go to sleep

Dakota

What about another hug?

SCENE: INT WILDE MOTORHOME BEDROOM - MORNING

The early morning sun stretches shadows across the alpine meadow. A moose passes the Wilde motorhome, oblivious to the chilly air and the faint hum of a generator.

Montana in a black fleecy tracksuit, pads into the bedroom.

The bed is a mess, pillows and bolsters strewn, tangled sheet, little Spiderman boxers on the floor. The comforter covers Braden, Dakota spooned to his side.

Montana peeks at Big Bird, slips underneath the comforter. His front presses against his older brother’s back.

Braden

I think we have company, Kota.

Dakota

Watch the cold feet, Dick!

Montana

Did you guys sleep together all night?

Braden

(yawns)

Um, some of it. You worried you missed all the fun, huh?

He sits up, looks fondly at the two small heads sharing a pillow. Mussed-up long blond hair makes gold filaments on black satin.

Braden

Time to get up Wilde boys. Shake a leg.

Dakota

Meaning no time to jack off, huh?

Braden

You can masturbate as much as you want after breakfast. You can even hang out in here when we’re on the road.

He pushes down the comforter. Montana sits up.

Montana

You don’t have pubes like Shay.

braden

I shaved it off.

Dakota

(sits up, smirks)

You going to shave your head too?

MONTANA

Why did you shave it off?

Braden

None of your business.

Dakota

You’re crazy to be ashamed about it.

Braden

(chuckles)

I have my secrets, same as you do, Fag-boy.

DAkota

Shay said men shave their pubes so chicks don’t get hair in their mouths.

BRADEN

Seeing a man’s hairy cock is a bit off-putting for a boy your age; Montana’s age even more.

Dakota

Aw, and I thought hairy was so cute.

Braden

Honestly, I’d rather be smooth like you.

(strokes Dakota’s cheek)

You’re both really sexy; you know that right?

Dakota

That why your dick’s like steel whenever you look at us?

He scrambles out of reach, grabs a bolster, assumes a protective posture. Montana clambers over Braden and gets his own bolster.

Dakota

(smirks at Braden)

Hey, Tana, guess we did last night?

MONTANA

He put his dick in you?

Dakota

Brad and me are boyfriends now.

Braden

We barely got acquainted, little boy.

Dakota

I’m still way ahead of him.

Braden

Let’s not push Tana into something he’s not ready for.

Montana

How did you get to be boyfriends?

Dakota

I opened my mouth, really wide.

Braden

Don’t torment him, Kota.

Dakota

I sucked Beastie. Drastic, huh?

Montana glances up, eyes bright with excitement. His shy smile is charming, his voice animated with lust.

Montana

No way! That’s so gay.

Dakota

You can be his boyfriend, too.

Montana lifts up, pushes away the comforter, and looks at Braden’s middle.

Montana

I’m not sure I want it in my mouth.

DAKOTA

You can pretend-suck you until you’re ready; that’s enough.

Braden

He’s bull shitting, Tana. He played with it for a while!

Montana

Can we be boyfriends if I play with him?

Braden nods awkwardly. He glances at Dakota. He’s grinning.

Montana strokes the swollen shaft with a fingertip. With no warning, he dribbles saliva, smears it with the same finger.

Montana

I’ll suck Beastie, if you want?

Braden

Um, Kota wants to be first. Just play with him for now, okay?

Braden gapes. He watches Montana’s little finger slide up and down, from balls to knob and back again.

Dakota

Rub where I showed you, Tana.

Montana focuses on the tip, a fingertip rubbing in the distinct groove underneath. He looks up and smiles shyly at Braden

Montana

Feel good?

Braden

Uh huh. Lots of spit is even better.

Montana

(spits on fingers)

Like this?

He strokes Braden’s erection, torqueing his hand on the upstroke.

Braden

Oh yeah! The best ever. You can be my boyfriend whenever you want.

Montana

You want more spit?

Eager to please, he grasps both cock and balls, sucking up saliva.

Braden

Really slippery is nice.

Dakota sits up, leans over, moves Montana’s hand aside. He grins and dribbles boy-spit onto grown-up cock. Then, Montana mixes their saliva with slow gentle strokes.

Braden sighs, fondles Montana’s blond curls, teases ears.

dakota

Keep doing that, he’ll shoot for sure.

Montana

I don’t mind. Shay’s is cool.

Braden gapes. His confusion slowly turns to a smile.

Dakota

He’s grown up, but it’s mostly the same. It’s white and there’s bunches of it.

Braden

Okay guys; that’s enough. I’ll make breakfast. You can fool around some more if you want.

SCENE: INT GAS Station, Route 20 South – Day

A small farm-town gas station with one set of pumps. The converted pickup with a trailer behind is parked out front. The motorhome pulls up at a gas pump. Braden fills the tank and calls through the open side door:

Braden

Hey guys, bathroom break.

The boys exit, go into the gas station, walk a long aisle. Braden trails as they pass ‘trucker’ stuff, giggling.

Dakota

You know they make beef jerky from cow dick.

They pass candy corn, colored led lights, wiper blades and DVD porn. Montana ogles the covers and titles. He stops, stares at one. Dakota looks around furtively, goes back to join him.

Montana

(whispers)

He’s nekkid under his chaps. You think it’s gay?

Dakota

Duh! No chicks on the front means he’s gay.

Braden catches up and the boys hurry off. He scans the videos, a few obviously gay. He spots Jack Cox, Best in the West where the boys had been standing. From the cover, it’s not just masturbation.

The restroom is in the rear, one person only. All three Wildes enter. The boys unzip and pee side by side. Amused, Braden latches the door, leans against the vanity, watches.

They giggle, crossing streams, splatter pee on porcelain. Stray droplets are yellow spots on a cheap vinyl tiles.

Braden

Stop making a mess, guys.

MONTANA

Pee on the floor why don’t you?

Dakota

Least mine’s big enough to aim.

Montana

It’s the same size as mine.

Braden takes out his cellphone. He snaps a close-up of the boys shaking off. He pretends to make a phone call.

Dakota

Suck my dick little boy.

Braden

Hi Mom. They’re fightin’ over the size of their dicks. Can you believe it? Here’s a photo.

He holds up his phone. Two identical weenies, same exposed bluish helmet, same wide band of pale inner skin. He pretends to send it, puts the cell phone to his ear.

Braden

No difference between them that you can see, huh? Yeah, cute like a baby’s. Not sure it’s worth having a pitiful prick. Hardly got a pair of balls between them.

Dakota

You really send Grandma a photo?

Braden

(holds out phone)

You want to say hi?

Dakota shakes his head. Moodily washes his hands, staring at a condom dispenser on the end wall.

Montana pops his head into the cubicle, wrinkles his nose.

Montana

Hey, what’s a Bear B-J, Uncle B?

Braden

Sounds like a blow job from a hairy fairy.

Montana

Yuck! It says Tuesday at noon.

He exits the cubicle and joins Dakota looking at condoms.

Montana

What do you reckon Genie’s Delites are?

Dakota

Search me! Hey, Dad, should we get some rubbers in case you decide to corn-hole us?

He looks over his shoulder and smirks. ‘Dad’ blushes.

Braden

Sure, pick out a few you like. Black makes me look bigger.

Dakota

(giggles)

They that much bigger, like people say?

Braden

A honky boy size queen? No way!

Dakota

I’m just asking, okay?

Braden

They’re a bit bigger, not huge, not like in your dreams.

DAkota

The only one I dream about is yours, Pedo.

Braden

In that case, some sex lube might come in handy. Crisco doesn’t cut it for virgin boy-pussy.

Braden takes his turn peeing, grinning and keeping an eye on the boys. They giggle at every product. He zips, washes his hands.

Dakota

You want to use a Glow—in-the-dark Tingler Ring when you do me? Says it prolongs the pleasure.

(nudges brother, giggling)

If it keeps his dick stiff, he can do both of us.

Montana

How about The Booster? It makes dicks ten-percent bigger.

Dakota

Hey *Dad*, if you got a buck, I got the quarter?

Braden playfully tousles golden locks, clamps his hand on the back of Dakota’s girly-boy head. They exit the bathroom, 12:00 noon on Tuesday.

A middle-aged man is waiting outside, thick black fur all over, bald, unshaven with a tatty white T-shirt with sweat stains. He smirks at Braden, nods at the door.

Braden keeps going, directs the boys to the front of the store and out the door with a playful shove. He sees a bald-headed man wiping bugs off the windscreen of the converted pickup. The trailer has a faded sign on the side. It’s unreadable.

Braden turns, returns to the DVDs and selects Jack Cox, Best in the West.

SCENE: INT WILDE MOTORHOME - Continuous

They sit at the table, Braden on one seat, the boys opposite. He removes the plastic cover, takes out a DVD.

Braden

I bought this for a reason, guys. You can watch for a few minutes, the rest tonight when we’re ready for bed. If it gets too much, it goes off.

Dakota studies the back of the cover. On the front: Jack Cox, Best in the West in technicolor. Montana leans over to see it. His eyes light up. Jack Cox is college-aged, shaved, swimmer-build, 8-inch cock with balls to match.

Dakota

Says he does other stuff, too.

He holds up the cover. The back shows four Jack Cox DVDS, a cornucopia of gay porn.

Braden

There’s no faster way to find out what you’re really interested in.

Montana

He’s sucking a black guy’s cock! How sick is that?

Dakota

Will something that big really fit in my mouth?

Braden

When you’re ready, yeah. I expect your boy-pussy needs a tad smaller, at least for a while.

He inserts the DVD in the player, uses the remote to switch on the TV across from the table.

Braden

The clock is running. Three minutes left.

Dakota

What the fuck!

Montana

It’s so big he uses two hands.

Braden grins at the boys, already high with excitement. He’s in the driver’s seat and back on Route 20 South before the real fun begins.

Montana

He’s leaking pee from his dick.

Dakota

It’s the same as Shay’s clear stuff, Dummy.

Braden

It’s called pre-cum, Tana.

He checks the dashboard clock.

Braden

Okay, time’s up. Turn it off.

He smiles as the boys grumble, watching in the mirror. Both boys shamelessly grope their crotches after the DVD stops.

Braden

Who has the most shotgun points?

Montana

We both got 22 Uncle Brad.

Braden

Either take turns or flip for it.

FADE OUT