Date: Mon, 4 Apr 2016 09:05:43 +0100 (BST)
From: z.blake@tutanota.com
Subject: Facedown in the Freight Train

FACEDOWN IN THE FREIGHT TRAIN
By Zachyboy
M/M/b/b, M/b/g, oral, anal

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On with the show.

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My name's Timbo and I'm 13, and I've been fucked by lots of men. This is
just the story of one of them, but there's others I could tell you about if
we had more time. A boy facedown getting' fucked by a man anywhere is just
about the best position to be in, if you ask me, honest.

Once when I was 10, I got fucked at the movie theater by my friend Digger's
dad right during the show. He started fingering me in the dark while the
movie was playing, then he took me upstairs to the one-seater bathroom with
the lock on the door and stood me up against the wall and fucked me quick
and hard and made me bite his finger so I wouldn't make noise. And he
called me Digger when he came. "Take Daddy's cock, Digger," he grunted
while he pumped his juice up my hole. And after it was done, he bought me
red licorice and soda before he sent me back in to sit with his son.

"Where'd you go?" Digger asked me. "Bathroom all that time?"

"Yep," I said. "I had to take a big one." Which was sure fire true.

Another time when I was 11, the janitor at my school, he fucked me. He kept
following me in the bathroom and took every chance he could to stand right
up next to me at the dirty urinals he never cleaned, and he looked down at
my peter when I peed with such a hungry look in his eyes, finally I just
came right out and said "you want to fuck me, don'tcha," because sometimes
a boy's just gotta come right out and ask a man, or you never get nowhere.

And he nodded and took me off to room I didn't know about and he fucked me
on a cot. He used a big wad of Vaseline he kept in a toolbox and he got my
unders all greasy and when I got home that day, my Granddad knew I'd been
fucked.

But Granddad didn't care. He just fucked me extra hard that night cause it
got him excited.

"Feelin' another man's cum up in there, yes sir," he said while he fucked
me. "Nice and slippery, Timbo. Good job, son. You just keep opening up that
hole for whoever wants in there."

Taylor laughed, and started taking her pants down, cause she knew she was
next.

My sister Taylor, she's 10, and she likes to take a peter up her pussy as
quick as she can get it. We got an old mattress out in the woods that
Granddad don't know about, and we go out there and we just fuck and suck
like rabbits sometimes, and other times I just hide behind a tree and jack
my peter when she gets a bigger boy or a man out there with her to fill her
pretty girly cunt up with some peter juice.

Once I seen her out there with a full-grown man and I won't tell you who he
was, because he's a man from our church, and I reckon he'd probably get in
big trouble for fuckin' a girl, not that me and Taylor would ever tell
nobody because we both like it and don't care to get him caught.

When she got him all laid down on the mattress and relaxed him with some
kisses, cause sometimes you gotta relax a grown-up man...they get nervous
fuckin' kids...as soon as her hand went up her dress lookin' for some pussy
to twiddle, she did this thing where she hesitates and pretends to be all
shy and scairt, but really she ain't. It's just her way of getting a man to
want to put his hard one up her pussy even more.

I stood behind the tree and took my peter out of my pants and spit in my
hand and started rubbin' it up and down real slow while he talked all sorts
of quiet sweet talk in her ear, tryin' to get his hand up her dress and his
finger in her snatch. He doesn't know she's already been taking our
Granddad's peter up her cunt since she was just a little one, and he ain't
got nothin' in his pants she ain't already got hard with her mouth and then
rubbed it in her slippery slit and then squatted on it all the way down to
the bone.

Finally, she gets tired of pretending, and just scooches up on her hind
legs and gets in her fuck me like a hound dog crouch me and Granddad like
so much, and her dress hitches up and he can see she ain't wearin' no
unders at all.

She's got a fine crack between her skinny legs, and that man knew when he
saw it she was ready to have some fun with him. He spread her legs open and
pulled down his pants and got ready to put it in her like a big bull in the
pasture mounting a cow.

"Sweet Jesus," he muttered, "you got a fine pretty piece down there,
girly."

Taylor's eyes they popped straight open when he gave her neck a kiss and
started rubbing the head of his big old peter up against her slitty.

She smiled at me cause she seen me jackin' my peter behind the tree and I
give her the big thumbs up while she reached around behind and touched
herself down there to make sure she was ready and wet, then flopped around
down on her back and opened her skinny legs apart for him as wide as she
could.

That man, he rubbed his peter up and down her smooth pussy lips. Taylor's
pussy lips get good and slippery when she's about to take one inside
her. Granddad calls it her vulva. Eager beaver girl shine, he calls
it. Sweeter'n honey.

"You're so pretty, Taylor," the old church bull is saying to her. "I love
your pretty blond hair and your pretty yellow dress. And I love your pretty
little pussy."

"If you want, you can stick your peter in my hole me and shoot all your
stuff up inside me," Taylor says softly, and the man just moans. "It's all
itchy for you and needs some cream." He moans again.

He starts pokin' it around in her cunt hole and sure enough, pretty quick
it starts to slide in, first an inch, then another, and Taylor, she sort of
bucks back against him and helps him get it in there, and pretty soon, it
goes way in deep and she starts twisting back and forth against it, and I'm
in back of the tree rubbing my peter up and down, and that man has his eyes
closed and he's rutting away in Taylor's hole with a big ol' smile on his
lips and a peaceful expression on his face like he just seen Jesus.

"Gonna fill you up with a big old load of cum, my sweet girly girl," that
man says to her. And he grabs her by the hips too hard `cause she winces,
but she's had worse, and before you know it, he's jerking like a fish on a
hook and making noises and squirting off his big old peter load way up deep
inside her. Jaculating his sperm, Granddad calls it.

A few minutes later, he pulls it out, all shiny and gloppy with his sauce
and her cunt juice, and he wipes it on her ass cheeks before she hitches
her dress down and gives him a smile and a peck on the cheek.

"Thanks for your cream," she giggles. "You sure put out my itch."

He moans. "You're a wonder, young lady."

She wipes his cum out of her snatch. Wipes it on the mattress.

"You best get back to church before service starts, Deacon," she tells
him. And Lord does he ever, zipping up his cock and skedaddling before his
wife knows he's gone.

I come out from behind the tree with my hard one in my hand, and Taylor
lays back down on the mattress for me and spreads her legs.

"Lick it for me, Timbo," she begs me with those wide open eyes of hers, and
she knows I will. "You make it feel so good after I take a peter inside
me."

I go down on her and eat her pussy until she cums once real quick and then
a second time that takes her longer, and then with the taste of her pretty
pussy juice on my mouth, I kiss her like we was boyfriend and girlfriend
and I line my peter up to her cunt, and I push myself inside and fuck her
good and hard for a couple minutes worth of good old fuck pumps, and she
grabs me by the ass cheeks and pulls me in real deep so I can cum in her.

I started cumming in her real good this summer. When I was just a kid, I
only got the dry shivers in her. Then last year, I started juicing, but
only a few drops. Now I can give some good squirts, and Granddad always
says it's nice to fuck her after I'm done in her, cause my cum is like a
nice and slippery lube for him. Like little boy Crisco he tells me. Like
peter lard. Like bacon grease. "Fuck her good," he tells me, "Get her all
good and wet in there for me, Timbo, 'cause this big cock is going in her
next."

Taylor smiles after I cum in her. Reaches down and fingers her cunt and
makes herself cum again. We ain't supposed to say "cunt." Grandad says not
to. But when we're together, we say it all the time. Cunt, cunt, cunt. She
fingers her cunt.

"You're the best brother ever," she whispers, hugging me to her chest and
letting me suck on her flat little nipples. I kiss her some more and her
tongue tastes like strawberries. "I want you to fuck me like this forever,
Timbo. Til we're old and fat like Granddad."

I bite her on the lip a little and reach down and finger her pussy. I feel
my goo inside her.

"Suck on my peter, Taylor," I tell her with a smile. "Get me good and hard
again so I can put it up your rump next. Do it for me. Do it."

I love fucking my sister up her hinder. It's every bit as good as her
pussy. Even better likely.

The first boy I fucked, I was 9 and he was 7. He was my cousin. Once we got
the hang of it, we were pretty good at it. Granddad caught us our fourth
time out in the shed, and we thought he might give us the switch, but it
turned out just the opposite. He sat there and watched us and told us how
to do it better.

"Get in there and rut him good, Timbo. Grab him by the hips, boy. Pull him
back against you."

And that time after I got my shivers, Granddad said, "Boys, stay right
where you are. Get up on your hands and knees and give your old Granddad a
taste."

And he licked both our buttholes good and long. And he put the tip of his
peter head in mine and squirted his juice in my hole, just a little way. It
hurt just a little at first, but not much. He was going easy on me. Not
deep yet. Just enough to get it in me. That was his first time ever with
me. I was only 9, but boy-golly, it felt good. And he started up with my
sister Taylor soon thereafter. He was gentle as a breeze until we surely
got used to it.

Taylor was smiling at me from the mattress in the woods and fingering her
own little pussy.

"It's her cunt, Granddad," I said in my mind. "It ain't her girly
parts. It's her bare little cunt."

Saying "cunt" in my head made my peter get harder.

But I'd already filled that hole with my juice. The next load I was saving
for her hinder.

She smiled and wiped her lips on the back of her hand and leaned her head
over my cock to take me in her mouth. She opened wide and sucked me
hard. Then she got on her hands and knees and spread her ass cheeks apart
and did exactly as I asked her. I looked at that sweet rosebud and I licked
it good and wet and I stuck it straight in her. She let me put a second
load straight up her hinder.

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Anyway, this ain't about me and Taylor or cousins I fucked or even my
Granddad or the deacon. This one's about me getting fucked on a freight
train by some dirty old hobo man who came through town one day when I was
skipping school and pitching stones down by the crick.

The railroad tracks run right up the bank from the Clayton River, and the
109 comes through every day like clockwork at 10 in the morning, then comes
back the other way round 5 in the afternoon right before supper.

It was already slowing down to enter the station up at the town limits, and
I could see that hobo man already, looking all dirty and scruffed up in one
of the open boxcars, which is nothin' new. We see hobos all the
time. Grandad says give `em a jug and they're happy. Give `em some pussy
and they're even happier. Give `em some boyhole and they're happier than
the cow that jumped over the moon.

Anyway, I just took my peter out for a piss and that hobo he was looking
right at me as the train rolled slowly by. He tipped his hat with a slow
nod and I knew he was looking at my peter and it made me excited and I
turned to show it to him better. I like when men look at me. Even the dirty
ones.

He nodded his head, as if to say "meet me up at the station," so I did. I
finished my piss, tucked my peter in and followed the train as it slowed
down.

Hobos ain't much for manners, so when I got up to the boxcar he was in, all
he said was "come here, boy," and I hopped up in the car with some help
from his hand, and saw he already had a blanket spread down on one corner
and a half bottle of whiskey and some open cans of beans.

Grandad always told me and Taylor, "Be careful of those hobos, you
two. They'd just as soon drag you off into the woods, knock you down on the
ground, yank down your pants and ass-bang you with their dirty ol' boxcar
cocks, sure as I'm standing here."

But I was in the mood for a good fuck anyway, and if this one could get the
job done, it wasn't any concern of mine if his cock was a might bit dirty.

"You ain't gonna tell on me, ere you boy?" he growled as he spit on the
dirty wood floor of the boxcar.

"Nope," I said. "Ain't nothin' to tell yet." I shrugged.

"Train'll leave in 25 minutes," he said. "After they unload dry goods and
hook up a few new cars. Quicker than you think. Then we can have us some
fun. You want some beans?"

"No, sir," I said. "I'm full from breakfast."

"You got a might pretty cock for a youngun'," he said. "I seen you flashin'
it at me down by the stream."

"I seen you lookin' at it down by the stream," I answered honestly. "That's
why I showed it to you."

"You know what a man likes to do with a young boy's cock like that?" he
asked.

"Suck it, I reckon," I told him. "My Granddad says a hobo will suck your
cock or fuck your hole, makes no difference to him. Girl or boy, you'll
fuck what you can get."

He cackled and spat again. "Your Granddad's sure enough right about that."

We made small talk while we waited for the train to leave. I told him my
name was Timbo. He told me his name was Earl Joseph Wellington Jr. and he
was down on his luck but had connections in Georgia and was a person of
some influence there and he imagined his prospects were just about to pan
out. He asked me if I had any money to give him and I said no. He asked me
if I wanted to drink some whiskey, and I said no.

"You ain't gonna need whiskey to fuck me," I told him honestly. "I can do
it without."

He cackled again. "My, ain't you a frisky one."

"Nah. Not frisky," I shrugged. "I just like a some cock in my hole when
there's nothin' better to do. Better'n goin' to school anyway."

"You been fucked before, boy?"

"Lots of times," I shrugged. "Some better'n others."

We talked a bit more. He sipped some whiskey, making it last, cause there
weren't much more in the bottle. He told me he had a son once. Earl Joseph
Wellington the Third. Little Joey he called him. The boy was back in
Atlanta with his mama, who left him for a furniture man. He was here in
North Carolina with good prospects, hoping to make an honest man of
himself. Was I sure I didn't have any money for him? Oh well, that's
okay. He was thinking of getting off the train right here in Clayton and
finding gainful employment til he saw me shake my peter at him and it turns
out he wanted a taste because the whiskey puts him in that mood sometimes.

Well, by that time the train was picking up some steam again and heading
out of the station. I knew I'd be stuck here on the boxcar until it turned
around and came back the other way at supper time, so I hoped he was good
at pleasing a boy, because seven hours in a boxcar with a hobo can be an
awfully long time if he's not good at mounting you. Or if he drinks too
much whiskey and passes out.

But this one, he knew just what to do.

"Drop them drawers," he said, "and let's get a load at that sweet little
pecker you been teasin' me with."

I unzipped my pants and dropped my jeans and unders and stood right up next
to his mouth, steadying myself with my hand against the wall since the
train was full moving by then.

He made a whistling sound and got busy sucking my peter. He was sure fire
good at it and did little licks around the head and stopped sometimes to
lick my balls which I like just fine. I like getting my balls licked and
the patch between my sack and my hinder.

"Now you get down here and suck mine," he grunted, pushing my head toward
his dirty pants. He unzipped and took it out. It was a big one. Not as big
as Granddad's, but a good thick size.

I took a look and nodded with some relief. You sometimes expect the worst
when a hobo takes his cock out. It ain't always the cleanest and don't
rightly always smell too good, but his wasn't bad at all. He had some
foreskin, but that ain't no problem for me. I just skinned it back and
licked the flavor off and spit it on the floor of the boxcar before I
opened up and gobbled him good.

"Oh sweet Jesus, you're a sweet cocksucking boy," he told me, petting my
head and rubbing his dirty fingers through my hair while I sucked him. "You
stop that right now so I can put this thing up your butt before I shoot my
first load. Lord, I need that sweet little hinder."

I laid down on his dirty blanket which wasn't much comfortable since there
was plain wood floor underneath and no mattress or bedroll to speak of, and
I might have complained about the hard floor if he hadn't stuck his face
down in my crack and started licking me to beat the band. I moaned out loud
as his big old tongue lapped up my flavors and got me good and wet.

"Best taste in the world," he grunted. "Sweet little boy hole."

Once his jaw got tired, he spat on his cock and stuck it in me so quick I
almost howled like a hound dog.

"OWWW!" I hollered at him. "Slow it down in there! It ain't goin' nowhere!"

"Hobos'll fuck you hard and quick," my Granddad had warned me once. "Most
men down at the general store are a bit more genteel with a boy. They don't
want no uprising that'll call out the sheriff and a mob with tar and
feathers."

"Most men will take you on fishing trips, Timbo, and take you down to the
mercantile, and buy you cats eyes and aggies, and play checkers over root
beer. Oh, they might rub your pecker through your overalls when they drive
you home, but they'll be nice and kind when they fuck you. A hobo will just
hop on and fuck you as quick as he can. So you stay clear of that train
station, hear me?"

Well, of course, that made me just want to try out a hobo even more. So I
did. And this one was gettin' the job done right.

"Oh, that's some sweet pussy down there," he grunted as he rutted his big
old hobo cock in and out of my clencher. I was used to him now, and it
didn't hurt anymore, even though I wished he'd take it out and spit on it
again.

"Fixin' to cum up this sweet hinder," he grunted and he pumped me even
harder. "That's how I like a boy. Face down in a freight train, takin' cock
like a champeen mare getting' mounted by a stallion. You take that cock,
hear me, boy?"

"Go ahead and give it to me harder then," I dared him, squeezing my hole
muscles together. "Shoot it up my hinder hole if you got it in you. I ain't
scairt."

He leaned down into my neck and bit me and sucked it. He fucked me
harder. I could smell the whiskey on his breath as he rutted and ground his
hips up against me, and my asshole burned like sweet Jesus as he said some
nasty swear words in my ear, "sweet fucking little cunt boy, gonna fuck you
til you can't walk no more," and with a mighty "NNNNGGGGH" and a fat fuck
shove, he punched that peter up me and he held it there hard, twitching and
shivering and spurting his dirty fuck load in me.

"Fine pussy," he grunted in my ear with his whiskey-dirty man breath, "Fine
sweet boy pussy, made to be fucked like the good Lord says."

I squeezed my ass on his cock like milking a cow udder and he shivered at
the grip of it.

"Take it out," I told him. "Take your dirty old peter out of my hole. I
gotta piss something fierce."

He did, and when I looked at it, all hard and full of veins, there was no
brown on it. Just ass shine. I'm a clean one inside my hole, Granddad
always says. And I stood near the door with the fields and the fences
racing by on a fine summer day that felt all fire good full of clouds and
sunshine, I pissed out into the wind from a freight train, my ass on fire
and a hobo's cum dripping down my legs as I emptied my water into the wind.

"Boy, that's a fine hinder you have," he whistled, staring at my boy ass
the whole time. I knew he'd want to fuck it again and I knew I'd rightly
give it to him. There ain't no shame in needing to be fucked, my Granddad
always says. Some boys just need it. And I guess I'm one of `em.

But he was a polite one, that hobo man.

"You need to fuck my ass and empty that ball sack of yours, boy?"

I told him I did, and he grabbed some boxcar wall and shucked his pants
down and bent over for me at the right height so I didn't need my tiptoes,
and I spit on my peter and I pushed it inside him. He was hot and slick and
squishy inside. I didn't smell ass, but I smelled the musk of his man
hairs.

He let out a little hiss when my cock sunk in. He was none too gentle with
me and I didn't feel like I needed to be none too gentle back, so I just
stood there and grabbed his hips and growled, "How do you like a hard one
up your saggy old cunt, mister?"

And he cackled a laugh and said, "Give it to me good, you little bull
stallion."

And I rutted around in him as deep as I could, and shot my load up his
hole, and held it there for a good count of twenty and gave him one shot of
piss up his butt too, just for being rough on me.

"Dirty old hobo," I growled, after I wet his insides.

He cackled. "Ain't you the cat's pajamas!" he said. I grinned to myself as
I pulled it out of him.

"I'll take some of that whiskey now, you dirty old fucker," I grumbled at
him, wiping my cock off on my shirt tail. He cackled and handed me the
bottle, and I took two big gulps quick as a wink and got a fine little buzz
on.

Well, we spent the rest of that afternoon taking turns fucking each other,
and sucking each other's cocks, and probably before that train switched
tracks and turned around and got back to Clayton, we likely came three or
four times apiece. Me more than him since boy peters can go forever, my
Grandad says.

The last time that hobo fucked me, about 30 miles out of Clayton, I told
him I was my sister Taylor and I was a girl and I was only 10, and I told
him to fuck my little girl pussy. Sometimes you have to help a man cum
again by pretending you're someone you ain't. They like it better that way
sometimes. He got so hard that last time I pretended I was Taylor, he
fucked me so fast and deep it made me holler out. He really rutted into me
hard that time, pretending I was little girl pussy.

"I'll see you next time through," he nodded as I hopped off the boxcar and
the train pulled out of the station again.

I waved and said, "I doubt it," and he grinned. He cackled at me and drank
the last sip of whiskey and tossed the bottle out of the boxcar. It
shattered on the rocky tracks. They never came back, those dirty old
hobos. They just moved on down the line. They all had prospects. They
weren't ones to settle.

My asshole was so sore when I got home that night, I couldn't let granddad
fuck me at all. I told him I hurt it some, down at the train tracks.

"You went and fucked you a hobo, didn't you Timbo?" he clucked like a hen.

I could only shrug and tell him I did.

"You always go against my wishes, don't you, boy?" He shook his head in a
shame shame shame.

Taylor giggled. She was fingering her pussy, ready to give Grandad his
nightly shivers. "I'll deal with you later, sonny-Jim," he told me. "But
for now, come on over girl, and hop on your dear old Granddad's cock."

He wasn't really too mad at me. He gave me wink as he mounted my sister and
she cried out quick at the good hard punch of his big old peter filling
her. We always made a noise when Granddad stuck it in us at first. It
couldn't be helped. He's got a big one.

He rutted her good and gave me a kindly smile. Still, I knew I was in for a
good lickin' when my butthole healed. Granddad was not one for nonsense,
and he was likely to take a swat or two at my hinder the next time he
fucked me, just for my disobedience.

Still, it was worth it. And for now, no harm done. I was filled up and
confident with a whole hot gusher load of the white stuff up my rump,
whiskey on my breath, and some happy hobo memories on the 109 from Clayton
to Charlotte, and double-fucked back again, facedown in the freight train.

Best position for a country boy to be in, if you ask me, honest.

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THE END
Y'all come back now, ya' hear?

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Timbo and Taylor first appear in:
http://www.nifty.org/nifty/bisexual/adult-youth/memories-of-north-carolina

The other ABC Boys by Zachyboy include:
http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/andy-in-the-attic
http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/barrett-in-the-bathtub
http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/casey-in-the-clubhouse
http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/incest/daddy-in-the-doorway
http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/treyden-in-the-treehouse

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Thanks for reading!
Love,
Zach
http://www.nifty.org/nifty/authors.html#zachyboy

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