Date: Wed, 11 May 2005 16:11:24 EDT
From: Tommyhawk1@aol.com
Subject: Chicken Thief

			       CHICKEN THIEF
			   By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
		      WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM
			WWW.TOMMYHAWKSROGUEMOON.COM

     Uncle Jayro sat on the porch in his rocker, a stubby-looking man,
plucking at the banjo which he held like a lover. The tune was
familiar-sounding, I'd `uv called it "Smokey Mountain Breakdown" iffen it
had been a mite livelier, but as it was, I just couldn't. It suited the
day, which had been hot and nary a bit of air was stirring even now when
the sun was going down. Going to be a hot summer. Slow and lazy is how you
do it, just the way to live in the hot days, even on the mountain. I stood
on the clapboard porch in my bare feet, wearing just a pair of overalls and
said, "Aunt Irma Mae said you wanted to talk to me, Unc."
     "That's right, boy." Uncle Jayro said to me, but his fingers kept on
picking that tune. "What'd you think of supper tonight?"
     I shrugged. Corn pone is good for breakfast, but a mite unsatisfying
for the evening meal. "It was all right, I reckon."
     "Needed something more, didn't it?" Uncle grinned at me.
     "Yes, sir." I agreed, grinning back.
     "Yep, some hot fried chicken would have gone down real good with that
corn pone, wouldn't it?"
     I felt my mouth water. We were poor folks and didn't get much
meat. Sometimes we could trap a squirrel or something, but Uncle's gun had
broken on him and until he could pay to get it fixed or replaced, we was
doing poorly for meat on the table. "It sure would have, sir."
     "Old Widow Baker down the mountain, she's got chickens." Uncle pointed
out needlessly. We could just see her house from here, those chickens as a
flock of white dots around their coop, and her garden on that good bottom
land of hers next to the Green Wazoo River.
     "A whole bunch of `em." I agreed.
     "You wouldn't mind having some of those chickens frying up for your
dinner plate, would you?" Uncle Jayro asked me.
     "Not one bit."
     "You ever raided a chicken coop, son?" Uncle Jayro asked me.
     "No, sir." I admitted.
     "Not much to it. You wait until everyone's asleep. Got to avoid dogs,
too, only she ain't got none. Then just ease on in and slip the latch,
sidle into the coop and pick the chickens right off their roosts. Pop them
into the bag and hitch on back here. Nothing to it."
     "You aiming to raid the Widow Baker's chicken coop?" I asked him
eagerly.
     Uncle Jayro looked at me. "Now, you know my back's been poorly these
past few days." he scolded me.
     "I'm sorry." I hung my head.
     "It's why we agreed to take you on when your Maw and Paw passed away."
Uncle Jayro went on. "Figured you would be able to help us around the
place. But you haven't done much of that."
     There was nothing to help with, I started to point out, but I kept my
trap shut. Just the house falling apart and Uncle Jayro sitting on the
porch plucking his banjo. Sometimes Aunt Irma Mae would go into town and
sell some of her stitching or work for a short spell and bring back some
food for us. But he didn't have any livestock nor any cleared land, just
the house and the plot of land it was on, practically all of it on the side
of a steep hill and the house sitting on the little bit of level ground
there was. I hadn't seen anything to improve about this place!
     "So you can help us by getting us some of Widow Baker's chickens."
Uncle Jayro pointed out. "Take a gunny sack and ankle on down there and
find a place to hide and wait until she's asleep. Then sneak on in and get
us about three chickens. More'n that and we won't be able to eat them or
hide them if she comes a'calling. All there is to it. And tomorrow, we'll
have fried chicken for lunch and then chicken dumplings for dinner. How's
that sound to you?"
     "It sounds powerful good." I agreed.
     "That's a good boy." Uncle Jayro said. "Now move on and let me be, I'm
plumb worn out by the day and will be on in to bed soon as the stars start
peeking out. See, there's one of them right now, a'yawning at me." And he
went back to his banjo, making liquid sounds in the dusk.
     My one acquaintance with Widow Baker had been when she'd seen me with
Aunt Irma Mae at the country store. She'd looked at Aunt Irma Mae, and at
me, sniffed and said, "Well, looks like another useless mouth done moved in
at the Bowlines." So I didn't owe her no never-minds. If I could get her
chickens without getting caught, I'd take every last one of them.
     It was a good night for stealing chickens; I had a full moon on the
eastern horizon to let me see, but it made long shadows to help hide me. I
kept to the shadows much as I could. The night was quiet and still, not
even crickets fiddling in the night. Total silence and stillness, and the
heat, too hot. I sat on the rock I'd found and watched her light for what
felt like hours before it went out finally. Then I waited another ten
minutes, decided I'd waited long enough, and skiddled on down the
slope. The ground was soft beneath my bare feet, and I winced at the
thought of stepping in wet chicken mess with no shoes. But shoes would have
made clonking sounds and I could always wash my feet when I got away with
the chickens. The thought of fried chicken tomorrow was enough to keep me
heading on in, intent and watchful.
     I lifted the latch to her chicken yard and slid in. The gate made a
slight creak but not enough to wake up someone as old and getting deaf as
the Widow Baker. I got in, and could see plain as day, thanks to that
moon. The chickens were sitting on their roosts, not moving at all. A
chicken won't move as long as its dark and I guess that moon wasn't enough
to wake them up. I got hold of one of the chicken's legs and lifted it off
the perch. It flapped a little, sleepily, as I lowered it quickly into the
bag. Two more now and....
     "Who do we have here?" came a voice behind me. A male voice.
     I turned around, scared as shit.
     "Looks like we found us a chicken thief, Martin." the second man said.
     "Looks that way." the first man said.
     I'd been caught! Good God! A man was in his rights to shoot a man
stealing his property. In the hills, nobody would charge such a man with
murder. Or they were allowed to take me prisoner and fetch the sheriff in
the morning.
     The two men walked into the coop. They were a bit older than me, and
obviously brothers, having the same long, brown hair, the same straight,
clean noses, the same cleft chins. One was a little taller and broader than
the other, or I would have called them twins.
     "I thought Widow Baker lived alone." I said sheepishly.
     "We'll ask the questions here." one of them said. "The problem is,
here you are. What are we going to do with him, Clem?"
     "Don't rightly know." Clem said. "What should a fellow do with a
chicken thief?"
     "Turn him loose?" I offered helpfully.
     That got a laugh out of them. "What do you say we just turn him
loose?" Martin said to Clem.
     "He'd just come back tomorrow." Martin replied.
     "No, I wouldn't!" I insisted. They ignored me, talking to each other
in a rapid-fire exchange.
     "Yep, we'd need to teach him a lesson." Clem mused.
     "Make him real sorry he ever come in to raid these here chickens."
     "We could whomp on him a spell."
     "Yep, I reckon we could."
     "Be a shame to mess up a pretty face like this `un has, though."
     "Sure would be."
     "His face kind'a reminds me of Lizzy Harper, don't you think?"
     "Sure does."
     "Makes me just want to kiss it."
     "So go ahead. I'm not stopping you." Martin said.
     "Come here, boy, let me taste them lips of yours." Clem said.
     I couldn't figure what else to do. They'd probably just embarrass the
heck out of me like this and then let me go. After all, I hadn't taken any
chickens, they hadn't lost anything. So I said, "Okay." and gulped, and
walked over to him.
     "Mighty purty lips on this `un." Clem said and took me in his
arms. His lips fastened on mine and kissed me. I didn't exactly help him
with it, but hell, I was being kissed. I could have played "cold fish lips"
like some girls do when you kiss them and they don't want you to, just let
you try to make something move, but nothing does, and it's about as
satisfying as kissing a dead fish, so you cut it out. I didn't, I matched
my lips to his and I guess I kissed him back. I mean, it was getting me out
of a butt-whipping here, I was willing to kiss this guy for that.
     Clem raised back and said, "Hey, boy, you kiss better'n Lizzy Harper."
And he reached in and kissed me harder, his body pressed against mine.
     I felt his cock push against mine, and it was hard and mine was
hard. Clem's hands caught my buttocks and he pulled against me and ground
us together and I struggled and pulled away and he said, "Hoo, boy! This
un's got the hots for me."
     "I should get a taste of them lips." Martin said. "They look all nice
and smooth now you been kissing on them."
     I started trying to inch around them, but both of them were between me
and the door and Clem let me go around him, him circling me like a fighter
in the ring, and I ended up between the two of the and Martin blocked my
way, his arms open to me. "Come on, boy, let me have some of those rosy
lips of yours." he said.
     I tried to get past him, but he only had to step a half-step and he
intercepted me easily and I ended up in his arms and Clem was right behind
me and I ended up in the middle of these two men's bodies, and Martin got
his kiss. I felt Martin's hard-on against my cock and Clem's erection
pressing into my buttocks and I thought to myself, "Oh, shit, what have I
gotten myself into here?"
     Both of them took to rutting up against me, rubbing their crotches
against me the way a cow rubs her butt against a fencepost when it itches
her.
     Martin's tongue slid into my mouth like a snake and it startled
me. That's when Clem's hands caught hold of my nipples and he pinched them
and I gasped and Martin sent his tongue all the way in.
     "Mph, glgh!" I said around that fat tongue which was filling my mouth.
     "You ever had yourself a man before?" Clem asked and I would have
answered except my mouth was full of Martin's tongue and he let go and
answered and I realized they were still not talking to me.
     "Nope, I never have." Martin said.
     "I wonder which is better, his mouth or his ass." Clem mused.
     "Reckon we can try them both out and find out." Martin said.
     Clem chuckled, a sound like low tones plucked on a banjo. "Reckon we
will." he agreed.
     And he spoke to me. "Young fellow, you are trespassing here and we got
rights to plug you and throw you in the river. But you give us a bit of fun
and we'll let you skittle on back to your Momma."
     "Don't got no Momma no more." I said. "No Daddy, neither."
     "Shameful, taking advantage of an orphan." Martin said.
     "Well, if we like him well enough, he can come live with us." Clem
said.
     "I got a home." I defended myself.
     "You give us our fun and you can go on back home, then." Clem
said. "How you feel about that? That sound fair to you all?"
     "Well..."I said slowly. "Iffen I gotta, I guess I gotta."
     Clem scoffed. "With that poker in your pants, I think you wanna more'n
you gotta."
     I conceded, "I reckon you're right about that."
     "So shuck outta them overalls and give us a ride." Martin said. "I
want to feel those lips on me."
     "The butt's mine." Clem agreed.
     What else could I do? I reached for my overall buttons, undid the
fastenings at my top and the straps slid off my shoulders and landed at my
back. The buttons at my sides were next, and then the whole thing (my
overalls were a bit big, they were some of Uncle Jayro's, handed down to me
when he'd gotten too fat for them) fell about my ankles.
     "Bend on over, boy." Clem said. "Bend nice, and I'll rub some spit on
my dick for yuz."
     Martin was opening the fly of his overalls. He could get them open,
but his cock was still a bit too low down for him then, all he could do was
make the head peek out. He grunted in annoyance, unfastened one of his
straps, and that let the overalls slide down some for him and he could get
his balls out to hold his manhood out and available.
     "Get them smooth lips of yours working on this `un." he said to me as
he sat back on a large wooden shelving that held a half dozen nesting holes
for chickens. Three of them had chickens sitting on clutches inside. He
hitched partway up onto the shelf, one leg still on the ground, his cock
pointing at me.
     This pose displayed all his muscles for me. He was a big, strong man,
just like his brother Clem who was currently making disgustingly wet sounds
behind me as he lubed up his cock. Martin in this pose was a picture-book
man, his rounded shoulder, his square of pectoral with his nipple riding in
an oval of brown, his abs making lines across his stomach until it vanishes
beneath the coveralls. His face was good-natured and kindly. Both of them
were kind men, I realized that, now. They'd caught me in a bad place and
meant to teach me manners, and respect for their property, but they weren't
going to hurt me. All that spitting Clem was doing was proof of that.
     It was easy for me to lean over and take hold of that cock, and when
my hand wrapped around it, Martin gave out a low, lusty groan. "Aww,
yeahh!" he sighed.
     I touched my tongue to the cockhead and it immediately oozed out a
thick wash of clear fluid, salty precome, gushed over my tongue and I
lapped at it, smoothed and moistened his cockhead.
     "Aw, yeah, man, yeah!" Martin groaned.
     "Better latch on tight, kid." Clem said. "I'm about to ram it into
yuh."
     I leaned on further and put one hand on the shelf beside Martin and my
mouth took Martin's cockhead entirely and Martin groaned again. "Ooh, oh,
yeahhh!" he said.
     And with that warm sound in my ears, that warm cockhead in my mouth, I
felt Clem's cock brush against my anus, catch on the tucker, brace up and
then push inwards.
     One reason I was so willing to take these guys was that I was no
virgin. I'd been fooling around with my cousins for years, and we had done
purt near everything two or more guys can do. But we'd been a bunch of
horny kids, we had never done it quite like these two guys were going for
me, lusty men determined to enjoy every bit of the encounter, rather than a
"stick it in and get it off" like we'd been doing. So this was different
that way.
     For one thing, Clem was bigger than my cousins, and I grunted as that
cockhead got past my sphincter and it began to crowd my bowels.
     "Damn, you're a tight `un, but you're no cherry butt, either." Clem
said. "My dick's going in smooth as butter."
     "Hurry up and get it in `im, he's waiting for you to finish afore he
sucks on me." Martin complained.
     Martin was right, I began to work my lips on his cock, and he groaned
appreciatively. "Uh, uh, uhhh, Clem, you're right, this `un's done it all
before."
     "Reckon we don't have to be so gentle on him, then." Clem said and he
shoved into me harder.
     "Ugh!" I complained. That hurt! But Clem's dong slid into me a good
halfways when he did that.
     "Ah, yeah, nice ass." Clem growled.
     "Get back to working my pud." Martin ordered.
     With Clem in my ass as far as he seemed inclined to, I had better luck
pleasing Martin. My lips worried his cockhead and he was groaning non-stop
in a little.
     "Better keep it down, you don't want to wake the old woman." Clem
advised.
     I chuckled to myself. Yeah, I guess the old bat wouldn't want to see
her kinfolk out in her chicken coop fucking the no-account neighbor at
that.
     Martin turned his groans into open-mouthed panting, he threw his head
back and was gasping up at the rafters. Clem's hands held on to my hips and
he plunge-fucked me pretty roughly. If I'd been a virgin, he'd've been
hurting me, as it was, it was just a mite unpleasant. But he was hitting my
button enough, I could live with it.
     I began to make long, hard slurps on Martin's cock, trying to make
this man vocalize once again. With his cock all slicked with my saliva, I
could take him easily and I was giving him some deep-throated head.
     Clem began to hunch at me faster, and I felt his cock like a hard rock
in my butt. I felt Martin's cock warming up, too, and I wondered if these
two brothers would come at the same time. The thought of that, of having
both cocks pumping jizz into me at once, was a huge turn-on, and I grabbed
my pud and began to whomp on it, wanting to catch up, wanting to make it a
three-for-one, all our jizz flying at the same time.
     Martin was moaning under my lips, his face was soft and vulnerable as
he lowered his eyes, he looked into my own, and his eyes widened and I felt
it then, as he gurgled deep in his throat, I felt his cock heat up to
boiling and then there it was, there was that hot jizm pumping into my
throat. I milked at Clem's prick with my ass, come on, let's do it
together, do it and I'll join you, I pleaded silently.
     Clem was groaning, but he was too late, Martin finished pumping his
hot jizz into my mouth, filling my semi-empty stomach with his creamy load,
when Clem finally began to grunt with frenetic energy, and then he yodeled
out, "Oh, yeah, I'm coming, boy, I'm coming in you, now, I'm coming,
uh-uh-uh, HUHH!"
     The voice, in normal tones, loud and clear in our hereto-hushed
conversation, was as good as a shout and I closed my eyes, felt my dick
tingle, heat, harden...and begin to splatter. It hit one of those nesting
chickens, and she cackled in protest as I sprayed her with my come, but it
was night and she wouldn't move any. I had that cackle to accompany the
sensations of lightning and fire in my brain, flaming through my senses,
washing through me and leaving me empty and barren. And it was over, I was
leaking jizz from my butt, Clem heaving and panting as he clung to my back,
still catching his breath, and my head was resting on Martin's crotch, my
cheek getting wet from the prick, all covered with my spit and his spunk,
all wet and soggy and salty and musky.
     "Ah, shit, man, you're a hell of a good fuck." Clem moaned as he
straightened up.
     "You all weren't so bad yourselves." I admitted.
     "Reckon we taught him a lesson?" Martin asked as Clem and I were
stooped over, fetching our overalls now puddled at our ankles.
     "I reckon he taught us a thing or two." Clem said.
     "But is he going to come back here and raid this chicken coop again?"
Martin asked. "If he is, we'll have to whomp on him, for real next time."
     "I won't come back." I said.
     "You'd better not." Clem said. "Now get the hell on out of here."
     I skittered out of the yard and back up the hill so fast it may as
well have been level ground. Uncle Jayro was awake when I opened the door
and he called out, "What did you get?"
     What did I get? "I got caught, is what I got." I said to him. "Widow
Baker's got two of her kinfolk living with her. I'm lucky they didn't beat
the tar out of me."
     "Oh." Uncle Jayro said. "Well, we'll leave it be until they leave. But
I sure was wanting some fried chicken."
     "I'll go to town tomorrow and see if I can pick up a day's work." I
promised. I was sick of corn pone and tonight had convinced me I wasn't cut
out to be a chicken thief. I skinned out of my clothes and crawled into my
pallet on the floor. It was a hard bed, but I was used to it.
     Early the next morning, there was an impatient knock on the door. Aunt
Irma Mae was up, but not Uncle Jayro or me. Aunt Irma Mae answered the
door.
     Widow Baker was there and she had a real mad on her. "You sent your
boy down to raid my chickens last night, didn't you?"
     I was about to admit my guilt when she continued. "Eight of my best
layers are gone. Where are you hiding them?"
     Aunt Irma Mae wouldn't have let her in if we were hiding anything, but
we weren't so she stepped aside. "Come on in and look around. We don't have
them."
     She was surprised at this, but came in and poked around a little. If
we'd had chickens, we'd've been fixing them already, their necks wrung, a
pot of hot water boiling to dip them in to take off their feathers, all
that. But we were still in bed and Aunt Irma Mae was stirring up only a
little corn mush for our breakfast.
     "Well, I see you didn't take them, and I'm sorry. An old lady living
alone like me, not a friend in this world." Widow Baker said.
     "Living alone?" I said. "You don't have any family staying with you
now?"
     "Nobody." Widow Baker moaned. "All by myself and now someone's
stealing my chickens. What am I going to do?"
     Aunt Irma Mae started walking her back to her house down the hill,
leaving the corn mush set aside on the counter. I got out of bed and put it
back on the stove, I could finish it.
     "Sounds like two other chicken thieves got your chickens last night."
Uncle Jayro opined.
     "I reckon so." I said, and that was all I said. But what I thought to
myself was...
     That wasn't all they'd gotten!

				  THE END
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