Date: Mon, 23 Apr 2012 08:30:10 -0700 (PDT)
From: don mumford <thinat20@yahoo.com>
Subject: THE DISTURBING BEHAVIOR OF SHERIFF BLEAKER  THREE  by Donny Mumford

Hello from rainy Boston. This is the last part of my story in
gay/authoritian. It's actually a complete turn around from the first two
parts; it becomes more of a love story to balance out the horrific behavior
of the sherif. Thank you for all you do.

Donny Mumford

		THE DISTURBING BEHAVIOR OF SHERIFF BLEAKER

		   What Happened After  (the conclusion)

			     by Donny Mumford


Now it's been sixteen wonderful hours of freedom, free of all the horrible
things we had to endure on the ranch every hour of every day. As we're
brushing our teeth, sharing the toothbrush, Dally smirks and ask, "Do you
want your enema first?" I push his side playfully, mumbling, "Don't even
joke about that, Dally". He gives me a smile mumbling, "Okay, Danny, I
won't, it was a bad joke,' and he gives me the same playful push in my side
that I gave him. I'm very fond of Dally. The first thing Dally wants to do
is get rid of the stolen truck. He'd recovered his drivers license from the
trophy items the Bleakers kept from us boys, and the license is still valid
too. We drive around town until we find a a small 'used car' dealership.
After some haggling Dally pays cash for a seven year old Volkswagen
convertible with a big dent in the passenger door. The owners papers
actually look authentic.  I don't have a drivers license, but I'd driven
the pickup around the Ranch many times so I know how to drive it just fine
and I follow Dally as he drives the Volkswagen.  We drive all the way down
to the very tip of Texas, at the very bottom of the state, to Brownsville,
Texas.  It's right on the Mexican border and right next to the Gulf of
Mexico.  By the middle of the afternoon we'd stashed the Sheriff's truck in
the parking lot of a 24 hour supermarket.  With the Volkswagen's top down
and Dally driving, we head for Louisiana 700 miles away.  We're in no hurry
so we travel all along the edge of Texas which borders the Gulf.  We'd
finally begun to calm down and relax a little.  What an awesome ride it is;
free as a bird and as close to having real "fun" as I've experienced in a
couple of years.  It's almost a surreal feeling being out and about, like
regular teenagers.  The 'doom' of the Bleakers Cattle Ranch still hangs
over us like a threat of some unspecified danger, but it's a small presence
this first day of freedom, and a fading one.

Dally wants the authorities, when they find the pick-up truck, to assume
we'd fled into Mexico.  Mexico is not in our plans however.  Dally says
we're going on a sight seeing trip the next couple of mouths.  It's summer
time in America and schools are out for summer vacation.  We can travel
anywhere in America attracting little to no attention.  We're not unusual,
just a couple of teenaged boys who fit in just fine.  I look over at Dally
as he drives us away from our nightmare and say a silent prayer of thanks
for Dally in my life. Whatever would I have done without Dally? I get
choked-up just thinking about that. Dally and me cheer like little kids
with our hands waving in the air when we leave the state of Texas and cross
the border into Louisiana.  He drove for another hour on Route 10 and then
pulled into a big motel that advertises on a billboard they have a large
swimming pool and free cable TV.  After paying cash for our room, we right
away turned the TV on and switched to a news channel.  It came right up,
"Strange happenings in Bleakersville, Texas" was the headline of the
report.  Boy, did they ever have the story all screwed up though.  CNN's
take on what happened had very few facts.  The story had just broken and I
guess they just make stuff up until they get around to finding out what
really happened.  They reported a nationwide manhunt for Dally and me.
They didn't know our names and the vague description of us, provided by the
town folk, could fit a large portion of the teen population in the world.
Even our haircuts are not unheard of.  A lot of kids have short buzz cuts.
The TV report said that two teenage boys were wanted for questioning in
connection with a "Breaking and Entering" at the Bleaker Cattle Ranch.
There were unconfirmed reports that the Sheriff and Skeets had been
tortured.  They showed a picture over and over of the Sheriff and Skeets
being loaded into an ambulance with a sheet over each of them so we
couldn't tell how much duct tape remained on the Bleakers, although it was
probably a lot.

Dally snorted at the misinformation being reported, but told me not to
worry 'cause the story would unravel and get corrected eventually.  And, in
the meantime, all the world's greatest detectives put-together couldn't
find us.  We went swimming, so fuck 'em. We both swam for an hour and then
drank cokes and ate our dinner at a table around the pool.  We're relaxing
more a little bit at a time, hour by hour.  By the time the evening news
was on there were unconfirmed rumors from leaks either by the State Police
or the FBI that a serial killer could possibly be connected to the
Bleakersville story.  The two un-named suspects, Dally and me, were still
the focus of the news broadcasts however.  Dally felt that probably the FBI
knew by now that they had a sensational case on their hands.  As they
reviewed all the evidence that we'd left for them it would be obvious that
Dally and me were just two potential victims and who had no involvement in
the rape and murder of the boys.  Sure enough, by the next morning the two
suspects had changed from being the two unknowns, Dally and me, to being
the Sheriff and his brother, Skeets.  Charges were filed and they were
taken from the hospital to a prison facility.  Dally and me were now the
two heroes who had over powered the monsters and then managed to
escape. They begged us on the TV broadcasts to come in and help with the
case against the Bleakers.  Yeah, fat chance!  We listened to talk radio as
we drove through Mississippi and into Alabama.  On all the talk radio
programs we were applauded as the bravest of heroes.  We heard basically
the same message all the way through Alabama and Georgia.  Same story as
Dally drove us right into Florida too. Nice to be applauded and called a
courageous hero. Dally jokenly bitched that no one elevated us to "super"
heroes, like Batman and Robin, maybe. He wants to drive all the way to the
bottom of Florida to Key West.  I wondered why, and he said, "Just because
we can, Danny."  So we drove to Key West, Florida where it's a short boat
ride to Cuba for those who are dumb enough to want to get to there. Our
travels had taken more than two weeks; we took our time and only drove four
or five hours a day.  We have no special time table, just do what we feel
like doing.  If we liked something about a place, we'd spend sometimes two
nights.  Slowly but surely the accurate story of the Bleakers Cattle Ranch
emerged.  We followed the reports in newspapers and watched TV news every
day.  It was obvious to everyone after two weeks that the Bleakers were the
worst kind of monsters, in deep, deep shit. Dally and my rather mundane
activities may have seemed boring to others perhaps, but everything we did
was luxurious to us as we crawled along unconcerned about what others
thought.  Innocuous matters like our body hair went about it's business of
slowly growing out.  It had reached the prickly stage after the first five
days, but we persevered through that and it continued to grow past the
prickly stage and was no longer in our thoughts.  We were just starting to
let ourselves have some fun now and then....laugh a little.

We stopped to check out most of the tourist spot that advertised themselves
on billboards along the highway.  Hooker Cave, and the world's largest ball
of string, and the fire cracker super store, and every damn silly thing you
can think of.  We paid to see it, or eat it, or whatever. Somehow Dally had
known that a frivolous road trip like ours would be a good first step
toward healing and adjusting back to the normal world.  Just to be able to
get out of bed when we wanted and choose what we wanted for breakfast was a
new and wondrous thing to us, especially for me as I'd been away from
civilization the longest.  At times we'd pinch ourselves to be sure we're
not dreaming this wondrous change of fortune. Dally would give me a hug or
squeeze the back of my neck or rub my head, but that was about it for
bodily contact and affection.  I couldn't help but wonder if that was all
there was ever going to be.  It was surprisingly easy to admit to myself
that I longed for more.  I ached to lie naked with Dally in bed.  To cuddle
and hug with him and to kiss his mouth; kissing his mouth is what I really
wanted to do the most. It's an odd feeling to have, but I have it in my
heart just the same. I stare at his face sometimes, whenever I can do it
without Dally noticing actually.  Lots of spontaneous boners in bed too.
Sometimes the room we rented had only one bed and we'd shared it, but he's
made no move to touch me.  I began jerking off a couple of times a day in
the bathroom just from my fantasies of Dally, and jerking off is another
thing I haven't done in two years.  I guess the sheriff turned me into a
queer, but Skeets apparently hadn't turned Dally into one.  One more thing
about Skeets for me to hate. The parts of Key West we saw are, well,
quaint.  I guess that,s a good overall description, but of course we didn't
venture into the classy part of town 'cause there are some expensive
looking hotels.  Dally is interested in renting a room in a 'Bed &
Breakfast' place.  I'd never heard of that, but sure enough, we see some
big houses advertising themselves as "Bed & Breakfast" VACANCY.  It's kind
of off-season down here so we had no trouble renting a very nice room for
an entire week.  I was happy we'd be staying in one place for a while.
Driving can get tiresome.  The place we stayed at is owned and operated by
two middle aged men who I'd have to say are probably gay.  I don't have
much experience with gay people, but I'm pretty sure these guys are gay.
They're really nice to Dally and me though, and insisted we take the
premium room with a big feather bed at the 'normal' room rate.

The younger of the two proprietors, George, gushed with enthusiasm about
how Dally and me are going to love sleeping in that feather bed.  It does
look comfortable.  Since I'm apparently gay now myself, I felt I should fit
in real well at 'George and Terry's Bed & Breakfast'.  That's the name of
it.  Both guys are very accommodating I must say.  Terry is a bit clumsy
and is always falling into me, but he apologizes so much I can't hold his
clumsiness against him.  When I told him that I wouldn't hold it against
him he said, "Oh my dear, Danny...you can hold it against me all you want.
Please do!"  So nice and polite. Still, I can't say I understand why he'd
want me to be critical of him.  The important thing is we're all getting
along wonderfully.  And I do indeed like the place a lot. That first night
Terry and George insisted we come to the pier with them to see the sunset
and have dinner as their treat.  WOW!  That sunset was beautifully
spectacular.  We learned that lots of people visit Key West primarily
because of the sunsets over the ocean, which are always very special.  We
got to the dock a half hour or so before the sunset and had cocktails.
George bought Dally and me a grapefruit and vodka drink with cherry juice
added for sweetness, in plastic cups.  I must say, it was very good
although I felt woozy a short time after finishing it.  Terry said that's
because I drank it too fast.  He stood behind me and held me around the
waist for the remainder of the sunset to steady me. They are both very
thoughtful men.  For some reason Dally had a kind of mysterious half smile
on his youthful, cute face most of the evening, his green eyes shining
brightly.  I love looking at him.

We ate fried shrimps, cole slaw and some kind of dark rice at a small table
on a balcony overlooking the ocean.  Dally and our two hosts shared a
bottle of white wine while I had two large cokes.  Dally told lies about
our trip and who we were while I mostly nodded and smiled.  Terry kept
patting my hand as if I were a seven year old and that's Ok, they're very
nice, as I've said. This was a very good first night in Key West and before
we went upstairs to bed Terry and George both kissed us on the cheeks
goodnight, so I was right about them being gay it seems.  Dally and I sunk
into that feather bed and met sort of in the middle.  It was a very soft
mattress and I had the thrill of my life sleeping all night right up
against Dally.  He even put his arm around me and I think he kissed me,or
at least licked me.  Either one would be fine. I'm not naive, I know Dally
was drunk when we went to bed and probably wouldn't remember the kiss or
face lick by morning.  No matter, I loved it.  I stayed awake longer than
Dally and made sure my legs were against his.  Oh my God what a boner I got
from doing that, it was awesome.  When it got too painful and my balls
surely had to be a deep shade of blue, I carefully got out of bed and went
in the bathroom to fist my boner shooting a long stream of cum up on the
mirror above the sink.  What a hot, hot sensational climax I had thinking
about Dally.  Something simple like wanking off was like a new thing for me
because that revolting sheriff milked my balls dry for two years.  I'd
forgotten how much fun jerking off can be and how great it feels.

In the morning Dally was all smiles and he wrestled around with me in bed,
which had me springing another boner that I'm sure Dally felt as we
wrestled.  That was embarrassing, but thankfully he didn't mention it and,
Jesus, I had another hot wank just before taking a shower.  Whew, Dally
really made me hard.  This is all so great I need to keep pinching myself
to be sure it's real. Downstairs for breakfast Terry and George tried to
outdo each other taking care of Dally and me.  There were three other guys
staying here at the inn, but they were older and more serious types.  One
of them has been here for an entire month doing water color paintings of
Key West.  The other two were together on some kind of business trip.
Something to do with their travel agency and I assume they're gay
too. Maybe some of gayness around here will rub off on Dally.  The one
place we choose to stay in and everybody is gay; sometimes it's better to
be lucky than smart. Terry almost ended up in my lap when he served my
breakfast. Man oh man, the poor guy is a total 'klutz' but so nice no one
criticizes him.  As a matter of fact Dally and George get the biggest kick
out of it how clumsy Terry is.  I gave Dally a frown hoping to get him to
stop laughing at Terry becauseTerry's feelings might get hurt.  On the
other hand, Terry thought it was funny too.

After breakfast we toured Ernest Hemingway's home and museum, he was a
famous Key West author apparently. Then we went on a bus tour of the entire
Key which lasted three hours and was interesting, but maybe a bit too long.
It was relaxing though, riding on a bus and with someone explaining all the
sights, and then of course there's the boner I got from the way the bus
moves, which is always appreciated.  We went to the beach after lunch and
this is pretty much the way the whole week went.  The temperature is in the
80s with lots of sunshine.  Every night we had cocktails on the pier at
sunset and on Saturday there's a Gay Trolley tour which Terry gave us free
passes for.  He said a friend of his drove the bus.  His friend, Myles, was
just as clumsy as Terry.  Jeez, I spend half my time keeping those two from
falling over.  Very nice guys though, always smiling and laughing. Dally
too, a little more so lately, which I'm happy to see.  At nights and
sometimes when I'm lying in the lounge chairs on the beach I'll think about
the horrors I lived through on that ranch. It's like impossible to
comprehend how bad that was, and how good this is and in the same reality;
the same time and dimension.  How could the two totally opposite
experiences exist on the same planet?  Evil in one and innocent, goodness,
and happiness in the other.  I shiver, and feel sick thinking about those
poor boys who where murdered by the two psycho brothers.  And I feel scared
and nervous thinking about what was done to me for all those months too,
unspeakable things.  Occasionally at night tears wet my cheeks
contemplating my fate it it hadn't been for Dally.  I wondered, in my
musings, if I'd know somehow, when they did finally kill me; if I'd know
that I'd been murdered and thrown into a dirt hole?  You know, if my soul
or something would recognize it or just know it happened somehow.  I can't
talk about these thoughts with Dally because he says were in a "no
Bleakersville zone" for a month.  He's afraid we'll fixate on the terror
and horrors we went through rather than fixating on our escape and our good
fortune now.  Dally wants me to enjoy the present for a while and then he
and I will spend some time talking together about the Ranch until we're
talked out and then we'll go back to concentrating on our good fortune in
the present again.  Dally says we'll sneak up on reality.  He said he
doesn't have anything to back him up on this, but he just thinks we need to
do it this was.

dally's always saying, "It's you and me Danny. You're always going to have
me alongside to help if you need me." I nod my head because it's a
comforting thought that Dally will always be by my side. I'm immature for
my age probably, and that's probably because I never got the chance to
mature with normally. I probably regressed from the cruelty inflicted on my
person all that time. I actually didn't feel human most of the time on the
ranch. I felt I was something in the lower order from the German shepherd
that fucked me. Dally's bringing me back. He says, "Both of us Danny, but
you particularly, have a lot of very negative baggage to work through.  You
more than me because you were there almost three times longer then me.
We'll heal and acclimate to regular life together, forever if need
be. Until we're both well at least. Trust me, Danny. You can place your
trust in me." Those types of conversations or pep talks do a lot for me and
my self image. If a boy like Dally feels I'm worth his time and effort, I
must be an okay person myself. I keep telling myself that anyway. We were
having fun and we're beginning to really feel relaxed and comfortable too
so we let Terry and George talk us into staying another week.  They said we
could stay at half the regular room rate, but Dally insisted we pay full
price.  As it turns out there are many gay guys in Key West; the gay
trolley tour outlined the history of gay and lesbian activities in Key West
that went back many years. Ha ha, I really liked that tour because I wanted
Dally to adsorb the culture, so to speak.  It wasn't uncommon to see guys
walking down the street holding hands like it was no big deal.  Young guys
and old guys.  There were also some young cute guys who I found myself
staring at.  Surprised me that I stared because I didn't realized I was so
interested in guys before; Dally yes, but other boys too it seems.  Maybe I
was too young or too oblivious before my arrest to explore my sexuality.
Of course, during the last two years, as I was being raped and beaten on a
regular basis, it would be difficult to take note of subtle changes in my
sexuality and I never gave it a thought actually. Thinking about it now, it
occurs to me that the sheriff didn't turn me gay.  It was perhaps my
nature, and I've simply grown into it now that I have a life again.  I
kinda prefer that rather then thinking the sheriff has any lasting affect
on me, and I hoped it's true that he doesn't.

Terry and George introduced us to some of their friends who invited us to a
cook-out at a rich gay guys house. Terry tried to teach me to dance and I
did okay, but Dally apparently learned to dance before being arrested. He
danced with some of the girls that were at the party and as far as I can he
seemed to be having a good time with them so I didn't interfere.  I had a
couple of beers and met a young gay guy who's one of the older gays'
nephew.  His name is Frankie but he isn't real cute, although he does have
a nice taut body and he seems to like me.  He's a very touchy boy, his
hands always on me in one way or another, but that didn't bother me; it
felt good. I practiced dancing with him until he began rubbing his hand on
my crotch.  I don't know, it didn't seem right so I made my way over to
Dally shortly after the crotch rub. Later I saw Frankie with another
younger guy and he waved and smiled at me so I guess there are no hard
feelings.  Frankie and this other boy were slow dancing together, but it
was almost like they were doing a fuck with their clothes on more than
dancing.  It scared me in the pit of my stomach, gave me a funny feeling,
and it gave me a stiffy too.  I thought about doing that with Dally and my
boner started leaking. On the beach the next day a nice looking young guy
came up to Dally and me and introduced himself as a guest who'd just
checked in at George and Terry's Bed and Breakfast.  His name was Dylan
Curtis and he's 21 years old.  The three of us hit it off wonderfully and
Dally, me, and Dylan were inseparable the rest of the week.  Terry and
George said they were jealous we spent all our time with Dylan, and Terry
said to Dylan, "You bad, bad boy.  I would never have told you about Danny
and Dally if I knew you were going to steal them from Georgie and me."  We
all laughed.  It's become easier to laugh day by day.

Every night we all meet at the pier for cocktails and that great sunset
that never disappoints.  I really liked being here with these gay guys and
Dallas, which is what Dylan calls Dally all the time, was just as relaxed
with all gay guys as me, but still no touching between us.  That fabulous
feather bed made sure we slept close together though, and thank God for
that at least.  He'd put his arm across my shoulders and I loved that, but
that was the extent of it.  Often I'd roll into Dally and rub my forehead
against the side of his face . The feel of Dally and his yummy personal
smell has be hard most the time we're in the feather bed together. A number
of time I made sure Dally felt my boner a on his belly or his thigh and my
face gets red as a beet and hot as the sun while I was doing it too.  My
heart would pound to beat the band when my boner's against Dally, but he
wouldn't make a move to encourage anything further.  He had a boner many
times too and I felt that sexy thing every chance I got.  Always I yearn to
kiss him and taste his mouth; constant craving.

During the day our new friend Dylan, who has tons of energy, entertained
Dally and me being funny doing impersonations of the other guests and
famous people we all know from TV or the movies.  Dally and me almost peed
our shorts laughing at Dylan ten times a day. Dylan's blond with a great
tan and a tight smooth body. He's another one of those touchy/feely guys,
especially with both Dally and me.  We were always being touched by Dylan
in some manner or other.  I loved it all actually. Near the end of the week
we discovered that Dylan has a hair salon in Miami beach.  Dally and me had
not had a haircut for a six weeks now and our hair was an more than an inch
long all over our head.  Dylan said it was not a hot look.  He trimmed it
around the sides and back so that we looked a little "hotter" now.  That's
what Dylan said anyway. We stayed a third week because Dylan said, "Fuck
it.  I'm in love with Dally and Danny and we simply must repeat last week
so I was naughty and called my salon to tell Tyrone that he is in charge
another week.  Aren't you all thrilled I'm staying?"  He made this
announcement at dinner the Saturday night before we were all leaving.
George and Terry seemed so happy at that prospect that I hoped Dally would
say okay to another week too. Dally poured himself and me some wine, and
said, "It's up to Danny.  He was saying just last night that he can't wait
to get back to our farm in Idaho.  Didn't you, Danny?"  Everyone was
smiling because they all knew I'd want to stay another week so, as a joke,
I said, "Sorry guys, but I miss picking those potatoes too much. Can't wait
to get back on the farm."  Then I said, "Oh no!  I lied. To hell with
Idaho!  We're staying!"  We all laugh and tap our wine glasses together for
a toast to another week. We'd become close friends and I almost made me
wish we could tell them the truth about ourselves, but Dally was adamant
that we keep the Bleaker Ranch tragedy to ourselves.

The third weeks was even better then the first two.  Dylan rented a fishing
boat for the week and the three of us, Dally, Dylan, and me spent a great
deal of time on it during the day.  Dylan taught Dally and me how to fish.
Friday we came in after a day on the water with sun burned noses.  Everyone
at George and Terry's was glued to the TV.  "What going on?" asked Dally.
And it was of course the Bleaker Ranch; they'd found the mass graves.  It
was located 300 yards behind the barn and the remains of over twenty boys
were mixed together under just three feet of dirt.  Dally and I excused
ourselves after saying how horrific was.  We watched the news report alone
in our room holding hands.  I was so afraid again, seeing the ranch and
thinking of the horrible Bleaker brothers and realizing how close we came
to sharing the same fate too in that dirt hole.  We'd been hearing and
reading reports right along about the case.  The Sheriff and Skeets were in
solitary confinement in separate facilities awaiting trial, nine months
away.  They were to be tried separately for twenty murders so far, and
hundreds of rapes on minors.  Some details from the sex tapes also leaked
out bit by bit too.  The background story that led to the discovery of the
grave site isn't surprising.  Nothing much was happening when it was about
a bunch of poor kids and then a wristwatch with a personalized inscription
was identified as belonging to a sixteen year old boy who's identity was
discovered, but not his remains. The boy's been missing for three years;
the son of a prominent Texas oil man.  The boy ran away from home away
after a temper tantrum over the loss of driving privileges and he became
one of Sheriff Bleaker's victims. When someone with money, like that irate
Texas oil man starts screaming for action the shit hits the fan.  "Where
are my son's remains?  What are you incompetent people doing to find it?
And, how did you let this abomination happen in the first place?"

And when the shit hits the fan a tremendous amount of pressure from the top
on down drops like a freight train on somebody's head.  The FBI and Police
felt the pressure to continue looking for more remains.  All kinds of
machinery was brought onto the Bleakers property and the digging began
anew.  They found the grave site the third day of digging and as the body
count continued to raise the outrage from the families of those boys and
the public in general was a very big noise.  "You mean to tell us that over
twenty boys were put into slave labor on that ranch and were repeatedly
raped and beaten with bull whips and all of them eventually brutally
murdered and thrown in a dirt hole and nobody in that shit-kicker town had
any idea it was going on?  Is that what you expect us to believe?"  FBI
agents swarmed into Bleakersville looking for other accomplices and on and
on it went.  Dally and I felt sick after watching the report.  It brought
it all back to us and put a damper on everything.  We held on for another
day, but the reality of it all made having 'fun' impossible for us now.
Dally made up a story of an injury in Idaho necessitating our immediate
return.  We left our new friends promising to return next summer and we
promised to keep in touch.  No one could believe that neither Dally nor I
had an email address.  We took their's though, for when we get a computer.
What did they expect, we're from the potato state, Idaho.

Dally and I drove up the East coast of America stopping often.  We talked
almost exclusively about the horrors of the Bleaker Ranch, and the boys who
died, and our experiences there and how much we hated and despised the
Sheriff and Skeets. After three days of talking there wasn't anything left
to say, but it was beneficial to talk about the horror, to get it all out.
Dally imposed another ban on conversations about anything to do with that
horrible place for another month. We were in another "Bleaker-free zone",
the only exception being if some major breaking story about some new
discovery or something like that happened, and I prayed it didn't. We went
back to talking about current positive things in our lives.  It took us a
week, but we ended up at an ocean resort town in the state of New Jersey
called Wildwood.  It's a wild place alright and unlike Key West, Wildwood
was definitely "in season".  Hordes of people.  In Wildwood they have a
long boardwalk along the beach and it's fun to walk the boards which we did
for a couple of nights. We tried a lot of the food that was sold on the
boardwalk and we tried the amusement rides, especially the dare-devil
thrill rides. They have a ride called the double-shot that gave us a real
rush so we went on that one four times.  It was fun, although we didn't
encounter any guys who appear were openly gay, so it wasn't as much fun for
me as Key West. Dally said he's heard that there was a kind of gay haven in
Cape Cod, Massachusetts, so we drove there.  From Wildwood to Cape Cod was
almost an eight hour drive.  Then another hour to the very end of the Cape
to, Provincetown.  It's crowded here too, really crowded.  There's a
definite gay presence here for sure.  Unfortunately there were no rooms
available; it's a totally sold out Provincetown that we've come to in the
middle of the summer.  What the hell, we tried.  After waiting forty-five
minutes we got a table to eat at least. A restaurant right at the ocean's
edge where a nice guy, who I thought might be gay, asked if he could share
our table because he'd need to wait an hour an hour for another one.  An
odd thing, sharing our dinner with a stranger, but we invited him to sit
with us anyway.  He was a friendly, middle aged man. A real chatty fellow
offering information about Provincetown.  We told him about our recent trip
to Key West and he told us a couple stories about his trips there.

After a nice dinner, we're getting up to leave and he asks where we're
staying. We explained we drove down here on a whim only to find there are
no vacancies anywhere in town. The man says, "What a shame, boys. Let me
make a few calls, see if there's something I can do for you. We stood
outside the restaurant and he made some cell phone calls and finally got us
a room in another 'Bed and Breakfast'.  He led us there in his car. The inn
has a great view of the ocean, but the room itself couldn't compare with
our special room in Key West. This Bed & Breakfast place is much bigger too
with twenty-eight guests.  A larger guest group has it's benefits though as
Dally and I are not the center of attention, and this was a good thing now
because we wanted to spend more time alone, just the two of us. We hiked
and rented scooters and walked the beautiful sand dunes. The Bed and
Breakfast has an excellent restaurant and not just for breakfast, but
dinner too.  Our third night there, after dinner, we were talking with a
couple of real-high roller type gay guys. They were very into themselves
bragging about their European travels and West Coast experiences and
brushes with the famous of Hollywood.  These guys were slightly boring
except they had a big point in their favor, and it's that they bought Dally
and me after dinner drinks. The drink tasted like cherries.  So we stayed
with them for an hour or so.  Dally and me got a little tipsy from too many
of those drinks and the gay guys did sneak in a hug on us saying goodnight,
and one of them says, "Have fun in bed you two hotties", so they obviously
thought Dally and me were gay. I wish that were true.

Later in bed after we'd brushed our teeth and stripped down to our boxer
shorts I work-up the courage to say my longest speech ever to him, "Dally,
do you remember one time you said that if me and you had sex together that
would be more than okay with you, and then you asked me if it would be more
than okay with me?  Do you remember that because I never answered you.
Dally I want to tell you my answer now It's this: yes, it's more than okay
with me."  When I'd started up with my speech I was feeling a little drunk
and had the false courage that goes with that, but by the time I
finished-up I was running our of oxygen because it seemed to come-out in
one long sentence, and by the end my false courage had run out.  My face
was bright red and my eyes were watering.  I thought, 'Why did I ever say
to Dally what I just said?' Dally was looking me in the eyes while I was
saying that very long sentence, and he hesitated before answering me.  I
felt so embarrassed I looked away.  Dally gently pulls my face around with
his index finger under my chin and says, "Look at me Danny."  When I did he
slowly moved his face closer and closer to mine and then he put his lips on
my lips and kissed me the sweetest kiss I'd ever felt.  My eyes close and
shortly his tongue goes between my lips and then between my teeth and he
licked against my tongue causing sensation like nothing I'd ever
experienced before and made my body shiver all over.  Dally held my head
with both his hands and kissed my lips again, then licked my tongue again
too and I felt all squirmy and deliriously wonderful. It's nothing like
anything I'd ever even imagined; it's much better than my imagination could
come up with.

Breathing little shallow breaths Dally finally takes his lips away and puts
the side of his face next to mine.  He breathed deeply then, and kissed my
ear whispering to me, "Oh, how much I've wanted to do that with you,
Danny," and he kissed me two long kisses on the side of my forehead.  He
was so intense with the kisses that a few new waves of shivers again swept
from my head to my toes making my shoulders shudder.  He rubs his nose back
and forth against my nose, saying, "You are so perfect and delicious, but I
made myself wait for you to bring "us" up; or for you to at least ask about
us . I was afraid if I tried something you might feel I was forcing myself
on you, maybe even just a little, and then maybe you's think of one of
those monsters. I was so afraid you might associate me with them if I tried
to move too fast with you.  Oh my God you taste good."  And he kisses
various parts of my face and licks all across my forehead with just the tip
of his pink tongue. We kissed the way the French boys kiss, gently sucking
on each other's tongue while I hugged and rubbed Dally all over his lean,
tight, smooth body.  It was way, way beyond anything I could ever make up
in my head.  Better than any dream I ever had of Dally. I could feel
Dally's hard boner and I know he can feel mine because he rubbed his legs
back and forth over the leaking head of mine until there was a shiny wet
spot on his thigh.  After ten minutes or so Dally again whispered in my
ear, "Danny, can I suck on your boner, please?"  I said, "Oh yes...oh yes,
do."

He pulled my boxer shorts down below my balls and then began a round-about
route to my boner, kissing and licking, and sucked down under my chin and
all around my neck and chest from one of my nipples to the other, sucking
and lightly biting them as they stood straight out just as hard as my dick,
and then Dally licked his way down, with little quick licks the entire
length of my breast bone and little licks here on my belly and there or my
belly causing shivers all over me again. He spends a long time on my belly,
just above my pubes and then back up a little to my belly button and down
again all around my pubes with one long, slow lick down to my boner and
onto my balls and under my balls and up my balls, again to my hard leaking
cock and finally my boner is in his warm, wet, soft, luxurious-feeling
mouth. He sucks and licks it till I'm squirming, my whole body's in motion
as I moan, "Oh Dally..Oh Dally..Dally Ohhhhhh AH ahhhh AHHHHH " and I shoot
cum out of my pee hole and squeal again as more cum travels the length of
my boner to squirt in Dally's mouth. Another moan of pleasure as another
good long streak of cum, longer than the others streams from my cock. My
back arches at this new and wonderful beyond-belief way of pouring out my
spunk. Everything's feeling so good it's other worldly and as the last
oozes of cum is sucked from my boner I realize I'm holding onto Daly's head
too tightly with both my hands and loosen my hold and play with his soft
hair instead. Feeling the best I've ever felt in my life I lay here
enjoying a fabulous whole-body tingling, my face wet with our saliva and
with my tears of joy; nothing could ever feel this good again.

Dally continues to lightly suck on my cock until every drop of cum is out
of my nuts.  He looks in my eyes with those large, incredibly green eyes of
his straining at the top of their sockets, beautiful eyes surrounded by
long, curved eye lashes.  A little wrinkle in his forehead and a cute smile
on his lips with my cock in the middle of it.  His hair has grown out and I
run my fingers through it again as I stare back at a his beautiful face.
He looks a lot younger than nineteen and it made me wonder how this young
kid saved both our lives against odds; against the evil of two
madmen. Looking at Dally I'm also thinking about how much I love him. I
slowly calm down, my heart beat under a hundred beats per minute, I'm able
to realize there's a lot of wetness on my legs.  It registers then that
Dally was stroking his boner as he sucked me off and he'd shot his load on
my legs just seconds after I'd finished with mine.  He was breathing as
hard as I me during that best few minutes of my life.  My head's on my
pillow as Dally straightened up to share the same pillow with another kiss
for me.  He still has some of my cum in his mouth and we licked each
other's tongue again and then Dally rubs his wet lips back and forth on my
cheek as he's pulling me gently against him.  We hug each other tight at
first, and then we just hold on to one another, touching our bodies against
one another as much as we can. We talk quietly of love and sex and I tell
Dally I love him and I have for months, even when we were enslaved. I tell
him how much it meant to me that he gave me the ability to hope upon hope
that we'd escaper the ranch one day. Without hope there is nothing. "You
gave me a reason to keep living, Dally, and then actually saved us both
from certain death in a dirt hole grave." He says, "We both saved
ourselves, Danny. You gave me hope too; wanting to save you was motivation
for me in my darkest moments on that hell-hole of a ranch."  Well, he's my
hero no matter what he says, and I never expect to ever feel about anyone
the way I feel about Dally.  "You may think I'm too young at seventeen or
maybe too inexperienced to know if I'm in love, but I know with a certainty
that I do love you, Dally, and I'm going to love you all my life, and
longer if possible.

We tasked on feeling wonderful about our love. Dally says he'd never felt
so protective of anyone, not even his little brother, as he'd felt for me.
He was puzzled by that feeling at first and he's still not sure what it is
about me that brought that protective quality out in him.  And then that
protective feeling turned into one of really caring about me and wanting to
get to know me and to spend time with me and then, eventually his feeling
for me turned into love.  He said he has never been in love before
either. But, like me, he knows it when he feels it and he loves me.  Our
mutual admiration society led to more kissing and hugging and rubbing of
our bodies, not being able to get enough of each other and It's wondrous
beyond words. Young love, first love; is there anything more powerful? Much
later I suck on Dally's boner and as he strokes my latest boner and we both
have nice cum shots again making us shiver and hug each other all over
again.  In the morning we go at it again and it's always a truly
magnificent feeling when I shoot my load of sperm.  Each time I'm thinking
to myself, 'It's impossible that I'll feel this awesome every single time
or is it possible?'  What a time we had in Provincetown the night of our
first declarations of love, and sex.  On two separate occassions strangers
on the street, gay strangers, mention that we look especially happy today.
They always give a wink like they know why we do too.  I guess we're giving
off vibes of being in love and Dally and I smile all the harder because it
is true that we're very much in love.  We stay only three weeks in
Provincetown and our last night there Dally had his first anal sex with
me. At the very beginning of penetration I knew right away that nothing
could top this as a sexual turn-on for me and as he slowly entered me
deeper and deeper I savored that filled-up feeling with each additional
second it went on. The sensations got more and more wonderful and I
couldn't stop moving my head back and forth concentrating on how fabulous
it felt to have him inside me.  His thrusting, over and over, on my
prostate almost made me scream with pleasure. I put my hand in my mouth and
blew spit around it hardly believing the wonderful feeling of being fucked
by the boy I love. Before I thought nothing could feel better than oral
sex, but now I know I was wrong because being fucked by Dally is way better
even than his oral sex.

Two hours after Dally fucked me I returned the favor and the sexual arousal
of being inside the boy I love is like an out-of-body experience.  So many
new and out of this world wonderful sensations had me constantly humming
and not just my voice, but my entire body was humming.  It's the most
intimate thing I've ever done or could ever imagine doing.  I love it, but
for getting me hot and getting me to cum a long, hard stream of spunk
nothing compares to being fucked by Dally.  He truly fills me up and I love
to hear him gulping with the sexual pleasure he feels from fucking his
Danny boy. God Almighty, but I'll bet Dally and me could bore the socks off
half of Provincetown talking about how hot each of us is for the other. I'm
sure it can get a bit yucky listening to us two go on and on about how
fabulous we think each other is, but there it is.  Danny loves Dally and
Dally love Danny, period. We drove from Massachusetts on a long, round
about way to Chicago, Illinois.  That's Dally's home town, but he had no
intention of seeing his mother.  He won't go into any details, but I think
from a few things Dally's said, she's on drugs and neglected Dally when he
was real young.  When he reached his teens his mother would have her
"boyfriends" stay over night and sometimes they slapped Dally around.  I
don't know what happened to his father.  We're here in Chicago because
Dally knew of a guy who, for a thousand dollars would set you up with a
drivers license, social security card, a Visa card and a Passport.  Dally
found the guy the second night we were there and two hours later Dally and
me had ID.  We need it because we're going to Canada.  Weeks ago Dally
finally got around to counting the money we stole from the Ranch.  It
wasn't thiry thousand dollars; it was one hundred and ninteen thousand
dollars.  A pack of hundred dollar bills is one and a half inches thick and
equals ten thousand dollars.  We had eyes as big as a toddler on Christmas
morning when we were counting that god damn money.  We were yelling
"YIPPEEE" and laughing like two ten year olds.  And that was $119,000.00
total after we'd bought the Volkswagen and after we'd been spent money on
the road for two months.  So the original total was a lot higher.  We
wondered who the sheriff stole the money from, but we didn't wonder about
it for long. Making longer term plans for the future, Dally and I talk for
hours and hours and here's what we've come up with: Get ID papers and go to
Canada.  Canada because there's a culinary school there that Dally wants to
go to.  He wants to be a chef.  Dally likes to cook and he thinks it's a
good idea to work at something you like to do.  When he told me that I
said, "Duh!  Ya think?"  He gave me the cutest smile. As for me, I liked
what our Key West friend, Dylan, described.  He has a barber salon for
males only and it's located right on a college campus.  I liked the idea of
cutting young, cute guys hair for my profession. Dally said, "I'm first"
and I replied, "I said young, CUTE guys, Dally."  Dally said, "Oh, Duh!"...

We did some research and there's a barber college within a reasonable
distance of Dally's culinary school so that's where we're going.

What have I learned from all this? Well, life can be very hard but this
much I know:

If you find yourself in a nightmare scenario deep, deep in the depths of
Hell and you want to get up out of there....up, up, up to a normal life,
and then you still want to get up, up, up higher and higher all the way to
your idea of utopia.  Well, that's a long, long journey that can't be made
alone. But, let's say you have a boyfriend who is maybe even beautiful and
you fall in love with him, and that love for your boyfriend gets as hot as
the surface of the sun and you can't get enough of the way he taste or
sounds or feels or looks and you can't ever get enough hugs and your sex
gets as hot as your love. AND, to reach utopia your boyfriend feels the
exact same way about you! well, yeah, then you can make that long, long
journey.

Dally and me did it....

The End

Donny Mumford
 thinat20@yahoo.com