Date: Mon, 23 May 2005 09:04:13 -0700
From: gayauthor@hushmail.com
Subject: Boy in the Tornado

Well it's an odd story and I don't expect you to believe it.  I
hardly believe it myself, when all's said and done.  I'm not gay,
and I sure as hell ain't no pedo, and yet I ended up with my dick
in a boy's butt.  There's no sense in it.  I tried reading these
stories on nifty to see if it's a common situation, but I can't
find one story like it, so I better well go and write it on down.

About me?  Well I live and have worked my whole life in Kansas.
Not in the cities but in the wide-open plains.  There ain't no
place on earth like it and no place I'd rather be.  I put up and
maintain barbed wire for a living.  Kansas has a lot of barbed
wire.  Some fences go on so far you can't rightly see then end of
them.  They take a lot of putting up and the sure as hell take a
lot of mending.  It's a quiet life.  Some say a lonely life.  But
that suits me just fine.  I married at 18.  It lasted a year, which
was about one year too long.  Nothing but chitter chatter from
start to end, that woman.  Out on the plains it is so quiet you can
hear the birds flying and the wind rustling the cotton and the
corn.  Suits me just fine.  Sometimes the snap of wire with my
pliers seems like an affront to God's own silence.

Well, I ain't one for small talk so I'll get right to it.

I had been hired by a farm way out, miles out from Hayes on the
back roads.  I got the instructions from the farmer and parked up
my truck at the starting point, not far from a place where one road
crosses another on a small road bridge.

The weather was kind weird even at that time in the morning.  The
clouds seemed slow and dangerous.  Not dropping rain but
threatening to.  I didn't pay it much mind and got about my work.
By midday I was half a mile away from the bridge.  I kept moving
the truck along to keep up with the work.  By noon the land was hot
as hell and the clouds looked like poison.  I drove back to the
bridge to eat my peanut and jelly sandwiches.  (I know don't laugh,
I have always liked them since I was on my grandmammy's knee.)  I
was sweating bad, like I always do, and keeping one eye on the
clouds.

You know there's trouble brewing when they lower and start to
rotate.  It is so unnatural, it always sends a chill down my spine.
 I am not a weak man, you understand.  Some people tell me I am a
"monster" of a man, meaning, I guess that I am unusually strong and
well built.  But no one, no matter how tough, can look on nature
without some fear as a tornado fixes to touch down.  I watched the
darkening sky, keeping an eye on the fingers of cloud as they
turned and reached down like a blind man.

The wind picked up quite suddenly.  The wire in the back of my
truck was making a sort of zinging sound and the wooden poles were
clattering.  What had been a slow rotation above me picked up
speed, and suddenly, gusts had become a crazy whipping of the wind
around me.

I had to make a decision.  The threat was right above me, not off
on the far horizon.  The farm was only a mile or so away, but I
didn't think I had seen a shelter there anyway.  The truck was
rocking from side to side and slats of wood were being torn from
out the back and were skidding along the road.

I thought the safest place would be under the bridge, up under the
road-way.  I got out the truck and made a run for it.

The wind was stinging.  It grabbed at me as I ran, almost knocking
me off my feet.  Hell, it was a rough one.

Under the bridge the wind was still pretty wild, but it didn't grab
at me in the same way.  It felt safer.  The sky had now turned a
sort of purple, and the clouds were turning and turning and
dropping all the while towards the flat prairie.  As I watched the
wind started to howl and rage.  The truck was shaking like crazy,
and I swear it moved sideways about ten feet as I watched.  Then,
the black cloud dropped a huge finger to the ground in a lazy, slow
arc.  As it touched down I realised I was looking at a huge tornado
less than a mile from me.

Under the bridge all hell was let loose as the wind screamed
through.  I had to grab onto some old rusty metal sticking out of
the concrete to keep steady.

Right then I noticed the boy.  He was running towards the truck,
zigzagging as the wind caught him.  He can have been no more than
twelve years old.  Jeans, a chequered shirt and, would you believe
it, a cowboy hat squashed down to his ears.  As I watched the hat
took off, like a space ship, spinning and spinning higher and
higher till it was lost in the cloud.  He had a shock of sun
bleached hair that looked wild against the backdrop of the dark
grey cloud.  Then suddenly, still some way from the truck, he
stopped and seemed to raise his arms like a bird.  His shirt tore
off and went skywards.  The wind knocked him flat and next second
his jeans tore off, I mean they simply shredded and snapped away
above him.  It was the weirdest god dam thing.  In a matter of
seconds the wind had tore every stitch of clothing right off him.
He was up again and running for my truck.  I tried to call him but
the wind was so loud it would have drowned out an atom bomb.  Just
as he got to the truck, the vehicle rocked and turned on its side
and slipped up the road away from him in a spray of sparks and
debris.  The poor kid just watched it go.

I couldn't just stay there.  I had to go get him.

I have been to war and got my share of medals.  But I wouldn't say
I was a brave man.  There is sometimes just no choice.  You gotta
go do something and you don't give a shit if it is brave or not it
just gotta get done.  I had to go get him.  Pure and simple.

So I ran out from under the bridge towards him.  He seem paralysed
with the wind throwing him around.  He lost his footing.  As I ran
the wind tore at me like the devil.  It snatched my breath away,
threw me forwards, lifted me off my feet.  My shirt was gone.  My
wrist-watch was gone.  God knows how but my god dam boots were
gone.  By the time I reached him I was as butt naked as he was.

Now with the wind came the rain.  Not in raindrops but in buckets
emptied over us.  With the wind I thought I'd drown.  I snatched up
the poor wretch in my arms and turned back towards the bridge.  He
was yelling at me, right in my face, just inches away, but I have
no idea what he was yelling.  My ears were filled with the terrible
screetching and crashing of the wind.  It was like running
underwater, I didn't seem to be getting anywhere.  Then suddenly,
the two of us lifted off the ground and were thrown a hundred yards
closer to the bridge.  There was blood on my arms, blood on his
knees.  I grabbed him again and fought and fought until we were
under the pathetic structure of the bridge.

The din was still terrible.  The wind was still ferocious but it
was the best we had.

I scooted up as far as I could into the "V" formed by the road
above and the walls of the bridge which sloped down to the dirt
roadway.  I pulled the boy with me until we were wedged there, with
my back against the wall and the boy's back against my chest.  The
wind and rain still lashed around us, soaking us.  I wrapped one
arm around his chest to hold him tight.  My other hand grabbed his
cock and balls.  He was so slippery with the rain there was nothing
else to grab on to.  I pulled him into me.

We sat there surrounded by fury.  Debris shot through the bridge.
A washing machine appeared out of the blue and skidded through.  A
dead cow with the hide torn off.

Yet against me there was the softness of a young boy. I looked down
at the dirty nape of his neck and the little gold stands of his
hair.  I felt his heart-beat.  The softness of his firm chest under
my hairy arm.  I felt his young cock swell.  I don't know why but I
buried my nose in his hair and smelled him.  Perhaps I thought he
was the last human I'd ever see.  Ever feel.  For a terrible moment
I thought my loneliness was an even stronger force than the
tornado.  But then the moment was gone and all I could concentrate
on was holding him in place.  The wind wanted to tear him from my
arms and he was so wet and slippery.  I tightened my grip on his
stiff little cock.  My own cock had gone hard too, pressed so
firmly into his young back.

A sudden gust almost dragged him from me.  I lost hold on his cock,
and my arm around his chest almost failed as the wind prised him
away.  His feet and legs went up in the air.  God knows how I held
on.  He snapped back as the wind swirled away and I knew I had to
do everything to pin him to me.   He turned his head to look at me.
 His blue eyes were full of fear.  I put my hands on his hips and
lifted him slightly, aimed my cock at his pucker and pulled him
down onto me.  My cock has a huge mushroom head when erect and it
took a lot of force to get it past his ring.  The rain helped a
little, but not much.  I had to force it in.  It pushed inside and
his sphincter snapped over it tight. I pushed in to the hilt.  It
locked us together.  Now with my cock up his butt, my left arm
around his chest and my right hand gripping his cock, I felt I had
him secure.

But it was not a moment too soon.  The tornado was almost on us and
the ferocity of the wind lifted both of us in the air.  It sucked
us out from under the bridge and I scraped along on my back through
the mud, still locked into the boy until I was in the middle of a
muddy field.  We were right out in the open.  It was a disaster.  I
kissed the back of his neck.  I was kissing him goodbye.

Then it stopped.

It all stopped.

I looked up and above us was a funnel.  Blue sky shone in from the
top.  There was silence.  Complete calm.

The boy lay still on top of me.  I let go of his chest and stroked
his face.

"What's your name."

"Billy".

I lay in the mud and felt the boy against me, felt my cock buried
deep inside him.

I don't know why but I started to jack him off.  Right there, lying
on my back, the both of us covered in mud.  As I jacked him my
other hand explored his smooth tummy and firm thighs.  He felt so
fantastically soft.  He writhed against me, grinding his butt into
me, his ring gripping my cock.  We both stared up into the sky
above, circled by the funnel around us.

Billy moaned and a little cum oozed out of his stiff dick.  It
coated my fingers in slime.  At the same time I couldn't stop
myself.  I emptied my cum into him, pumping wave after wave into
him.  Spent, we lay there.  My cock shrunk and slipped out of him.

I kissed his neck again.

Then with a terrible scream the tornado unloaded on us.  Rain and
chaos and all hell broke loose.  As it moved away it sucked at
Billy.  I was no longer inside him.  My hand slippery with cum,
could not grip him.  My arm around his shoulders tore away and
Billy was lifted from me.  He had his head back, his arms and legs
spread-eagled like a sky-diver as he took off.

I saw a flash of his golden hair as he entered the tornado and spun
away from me, higher and higher until he was lost.

The tornado raced away at speed and left me stranded like a drowned
man.

Perhaps it would have been better if I had drowned that day.

Naked I walked back to Hayes, all those many miles, though a sea of
destruction.

They say I didn't speak for many months.  I am not a big talker at
the best of times, but what was there to say in those days anyway?
It's not the sort of story you share with friends or family.  So I
kept it to myself.  Until now.

I'll tell you this though.  Now on a late summer afternoon, with my
work almost done, I look up into the Kansas sky, high up.  I can
look and look until my neck's sore.  I'll keep on looking.

---


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