Date: Sat, 29 Oct 2011 17:53:26 -0500
From: Martin Heidegger <mheidegger@hotmail.com>
Subject: Uncle Billy's Panther II

			The Queer Road


DISCLAIMER: These are fictional stories of teenaged boys and young men
confused by their sexuality.  There are graphic descriptions of sexual
activity, mostly homosexual.  If you are not allowed to view such material,
leave now.  Author retains copyright.


			Uncle Billy's Panther II


	I peeked into the back window of the Sinclair station and saw Billy
and Fowler in the little office off the shop, their pants were down and
Fowler was cornholing Billy.  I was stunned and bent down away from the
window.  I thought Billy was the big stud, hadn't I seen Fowler pay money
to suck his dick two months ago?  Now Billy was bent over the desk taking
Fowler up his butt.
	I had to see, so I stood again.  Fowler was slowly pumping dick
into Billy's rectum, and Billy was holding his ass cheeks apart to let it
in.  Then Fowler pushed Billy's shirt up, loosened it at the sides and
under his arms and pushed it up over his head.  The panther was there on
Billy's back, and Fowler gazed down at it while he fucked, then ran his
hand over the big black cat.  His pace quickened and he put his hands down
to Billy's hips to keep them in place.  He was gradually pushing Billy up
onto the desk, and they stopped for a moment to readjust, and Fowler
crouched just a bit to get a better angle, then resumed.  Fowler groaned
again when he climaxed, and slowed.  He continued to pump for another
minute, then stood there immobile for awhile while Billy moved his butt
around under him.  Then Fowler pulled out and stepped over to the sink to
wash off his dick.
	Billy stood, and I could see jism on the desk where he'd climaxed,
probably during that last bit of squirming after Fowler shot off. He wiped
it off with a shop rag, and suddenly I felt vulnerable so I ducked down.
They talked for a minute or two, and then I left.  I was two blocks away
when I looked back and saw Fowler's car pull out of the station.
	I was a confused boy that night.  What I'd seen scrambled all my
notions of sex and how people related to each other.  What was a queer,
what was normal, what was real; I couldn't tell.  Did I want Billy, did I
want to be Billy, or did I want to be Fowler?  What about girls?  It was
all different since I'd seen what Billy had wanted me to see, and what he
didn't want me to see.
	I stayed away from the station for a couple weeks, threw myself
into the baseball season; practicing and hanging out with the other guys on
the team.  When I saw Billy at my grandmother's, where he lived, I avoided
being alone with him and brushed off his queries about why I hadn't been by
to help him at the station.  The summer ended and school started; I was a
sophomore and showing promise on the JV football squad.  Everything was
leveling out, until Ray Davis joined my Boy Scout troop.
	Ray was one of the two boys Billy had talked about going down the
queer road because he had heard them buying rubbers and giggling in the
men's room at the station.  I learned later, from Ray, that he'd been
forced to join scouting because his mother caught him and another boy in
the garage with their pants down.  It was a move toward the straight and
narrow.  It worked for awhile.
	I gravitated to Ray because I thought he might know something about
this scary and attractive world Billy had asked me join.  Also, Ray was a
quiet type who kept to himself.  Someone had to show him around the scout
troop.
	"Look, Orion is with us," he said as we walked home from that first
scout meeting.
	"What's Orion?"
	"See, the row of stars, there?  That's the belt; Orion the Hunter."
He pointed to the constellation.
	It took a minute but finally I saw it.  He then pointed out the
Milky Way, the North Star, Cassiopeia and some other constellations.
	Ray Davis was an astronomy buff.  He lived in my neighborhood, and
we became friends.  Most clear nights would find us out in his back yard or
nearby field with a simple 10X telescope he'd made from a mail order kit.
We had a lot of good clean fun, with no sexual overtones at all.
	My confusion about the whole queer thing was dying down, though
sometimes when I jacked off an image of Billy, or Fowler, or some other guy
would pop up.  Jennie Dill's titties usually substituted well enough to get
me over the edge without them.  Jennie was a girl in my English class with
a really prominent rack; all the boys noticed.  She was a decent girl, not
at all a flirt, but whenever you'd look her way, there were the tits.
	Ray and I started the astronomy merit badge and were out in a field
with his telescope watching the stars and writing down our observations.
Lying on our backs, staring up at the stars, I asked him the question I'd
rehearsed.  I wanted to get this sex thing into better focus.
	"You ever put on a rubber?"  I asked innocently.
	"Why you ask that?"
	"I never even saw one until last month.  I found one in my father's
drawer.  They're big."
	"If you unroll one all the way, yeah.  Me and Carl bought some one
time.  He put one on, I didn't."
	Oh, boy, did that tell me a lot.  I waited, then did my best
nonchalance imitation and asked, "So, what did that look like?"
	"Funny.  It was all wrinkled and weird looking."
	"Was he hard?"
	"Well, yeah," he said after a pause.
	"Is he big?"
	"Yeah, pretty big, I guess, I haven't seen a lot of guys hard."
	"I saw my uncle Billy.  He's huge."  I figured I'd give him
something or the whole conversation would die out.
	"Hard?"
	"Yeah, he was in the bathroom at the station, he was kind of
semi-hard.  He was shaking it at me, trying to get me to suck him."  There,
that was it.  I'd given him way too much.
	"Did you?"
	"No.  Did you suck Carl?"
	"Promise you won't tell?"
	"OK."
	"Yeah."
	"You sucked Carl?"
	"Shh!  You said you wouldn't tell."
	"I won't.  What's it like?"
	"I did it with the rubber on.  It tastes like a balloon."
	"Did he suck you?"
	"Why do you want to know all this?"  He was getting irritated.
	"Hey, I want to know.  We're friends.  I won't tell anyone."
	"You want to suck?"  He asked quietly.
	That was the bombshell, the unexpected, the bottom line question.
Yet, if I hadn't been expecting it what was I doing pursuing Ray down this
road; the queer road. "
	"I don't know."
	The sound of Ray's zipper smashed through my senses like a fire
alarm.  He pulled it down and fished out his dick.  It was hard and thick
in the moonlight.  I pulled my zipper down and found my dick, it was hard
too.
	"You do me, I'll do you."
	"Here?"
	"Safe as anywhere."
	"We don't have rubbers."
	"My dick's clean."
	"What's a raw dick taste like?"
	"Skin."
	"You sure?"
	"Yeah."
	"You sucked Carl without a rubber?"
	"About two dozen times."
	"Did you like it?"
	"Yeah."
	"Are you queer?"
	"No."
	"Me neither."
	"I know.  Suck."  He put his hand behind my head and gently guided
me down.  It went in so easy, so quick, and so smooth.  I became a
cocksucker without coercion, trickery or payment; the opportunity presented
and I went down on it.  The head was velvety smooth, and I could feel it
swell when I licked it, then inched my lips down the shaft.  Ray started
pumping and the head went back to the back, past my teeth, to my throat.
Soon, my nose was in his pubic hairs.  I came up for air.
	"Whew.  I never thought I'd do that.  But, it's not bad.  Now you."
I wanted to get him on mine so our secret would be safe.  Everyone knew one
way blow jobs were the road to ruin.  I needn't have worried, he was on it
in an instant, and I felt the warm wetness for the first time.  Coming up
for air we held each other's dicks and talked.  Ray admitted it had been
three months since his mother had caught him blowing Carl in the garage,
ending their relationship.  She wouldn't let him even talk to Carl on the
phone, and Carl now avoided him at school.
	I went down on Ray again, bobbing on his modest sized pecker,
pulling his pants down to play with his balls, feeling his butt cheeks.  I
took it all in, then licked the head, then tried to swallow it.  It was
fun.  Ray reciprocated, then me, then him.
	"You want to come?"  He asked.
	"Yeah," I said breathlessly, on the brink.
	Ray swooped down and I ejaculated almost immediately.  He stayed on
for the first couple squirts then pulled off spitting.
	"Whew, you shoot a big wad," he said, spitting and coughing.  "You
gotta suck mine now."
	I felt very differently about this whole thing now that I had
climaxed.  "I don't think I can.  I'll jack you off, though."


	"I saw you with that queer kid the other day.  You guys blow
buddies?"  Billy asked a couple weeks later.  I was helping him replace
points and plugs on a '48 Plymouth coupe on a Saturday afternoon.  We were
leaning over both fenders, our heads down in the engine compartment.
	"Which kid you calling queer?"  I asked, knowing exactly who he
meant.  We were indeed blow buddies, but I didn't think Billy needed to
know.
	"The one who used to come in here with the tall guy to buy
rubbers."
	"Just because a guy buys rubbers doesn't mean he's queer."
	Billy laughed, pulled out a spark plug and pitched it at the trash
can.  "Ask your friend about Bud Lesch."
	"Who's that?"  I'd never heard the name.
	"Bud's a car dealer on the other side of town, Bud's Honest Deal
Car Lot.  He's always looking for some kid to blow his horn.  He found your
buddy.  I've seen 'em together a couple times."
	My shock gave me away.  I blushed, I stammered.
	"Ha!  Don't worry about it.  A lot of kids blow other kids in high
school, hell, it don't mean nothing."
	"Ray wouldn't do that," I said, defending my friend.
	"Ray?  Is that his name?  Well maybe he didn't.  Maybe it was some
other kid with Bud.  Ray been blowing your horn?"
	"No."  My blush gave me away again.
	"You been blowin' Ray?"
	"No."
	"Well, it's OK if you have.  I told you, a lot of guys blow.  Just
don't get to swallowing too much.  Make him wear a rubber if you're gonna
take him all the way."
	My dick was hard as blue steel.  I wondered if Billy was too.  "I
wouldn't do that."
	"What, suck a dick, or suck a dick with a rubber on it?"
	"Either one."
	"Your dick hard?"
	"Is yours?"
	"Yeah.  Want to see it?"
	Now he had me.  I really wanted to see it.  But I wouldn't admit
it.  No problem.  Billy had an answer for everything.
	"I gotta pee anyway.  Come in here and you can see it."  He walked
into the back, and I followed.  Like a lamb being led to the slaughter, I
followed.
	He turned in the office and unzipped his pants; then there it was;
one big, hard, uncircumcised cock pointing out at a 45 degree angle from
his body.  Billy smiled and let me look at it for a moment.
	"Johnny, you can look, or you can touch, either way it's our
secret."
	"I'll just look," I said.
	"OK.  Get closer.  That's it, squeeze the head, pull my skin back.
You like that big head?"
	Whose hand was that on Billy's dick?  Not mine, surely.  Oh my, was
it hard, and warm.  Oh my, did it pulse when I touched it.  Oh my, did that
sweaty thing smell good.
	"Sit in the chair."
	I sat, and Billy approached, dick at face level.  He pumped it, I
pumped it.  He pulled his shirt out and opened his belt and fly, then
pulled his shorts down.  Now the thing protruded out of a forest of black
pubic hair, and under it swung two big manly nuts.  I almost fainted, from
the excitement, the conflict.  Before I could stop myself I was licking it
and holding his balls.  He stepped back and it was momentarily out of reach
then it came back within reach, head first, foreskin peeled back, pointed
at my mouth.  It went right in and, like Fowler, I impaled myself on it.

	"Johnny, it's OK.  Don't go nuts on me.  You spit it out, you're
not gonna get hooked on dick if you spit it out.  I told you that!"  Billy
was reassuring as the customer bell went off and he went out to the front
to pump some gas.
	The taste of semen filled my mouth and burned my throat as if I had
drowned in it.  It felt congealed down the back, threatening to shut off my
windpipe.  I swigged another mouthful of Dr. Pepper and watched Billy smile
and charm an older lady as he filled her tank.  The sweetness covered the
semen taste only until I swallowed it, then Billy's seed was there again.
	"Now Mrs. Dunn, you know you need to come back some day here soon
and let me tune up that car.  A Dodge is a good car, but they need
attention."
	I sat dejectedly on a case of oil by the grease rack, still
spitting into the trash can that held the old oil cans and spark plugs.
	"How about a candy bar, you like Baby Ruth?"  Billy said from the
front office as he rang up the sale.
	"No!"  I gagged again at the thought of the candy bar, after all it
was a rigid tube wasn't it?  I had just choked myself on a rigid tube,
staying on it after I had been warned it was going to give me something I
wasn't ready for yet.
	"My girlfriend Judy did the same thing the first time she sucked me
off.  She got over it," Billy said, returning to the grease rack.
	"Yeah, you told me about that.  Now she does it all the time.  I
don't want to be that Navy guy kneeling behind the air vent."
	"Naw, Johnny Boy, don't worry about that.  You gotta swallow a lot
of cum to get hooked.  I'll bet it takes a quart of jiz to make a real
queer."
	"So, what does a half pint get you?"  I smiled, realizing he was
full of shit and going along with it."
	"Ha!  A guy like Fowler, takes a bit of variety to spice up his sex
life, still has a wife to take the main load.  A guy will fuck anything,
you know that."
	"Why don't you do it?"
	"What?"
	"Suck."
	"Is that what you want, for me to suck?  Will that make you feel
better?"
	"Well..."
	"Let's go in the back, right now.  I'll do it, shit ain't nothin'
to sucking a dick," Billy said, standing up and looking out at the pumps.
	"No, that's alright."
	"No, it ain't.  I'll do it."
	"I don't want to, Billy," I said as he took my arm and pulled me
toward the back.  I really didn't, my dick was stuck to my underwear by my
own semen, ejaculated during the climax of my act with Billy; at the exact
moment I should have been pulling off I was going down in spasms of sublime
ecstasy.  I resisted and he let me go.
	"OK.  Next time."


	"Corn holing is just something farm boys do when there's no girl
around.  It don't mean nothing," Ray said.  He was holding my penis, slowly
pumping to keep me close while kneeling in front of me in the shed behind
his garage.  We'd been trading blows back there for more than an hour, and
he'd asked me if I wanted to corn hole him.
	"What's it feel like?"
	"Doin' or gettin' done?"
	"Both."
	"Carl did me a couple times; he liked it better than me blowin'
him.  It feels weird the first time, a hard dick cramming up your butt, but
then it feels good."
	"You ever do him?"
	"No."
	"So, if I shoot my load up your butt, we're done?"
	"Yeah, I'll just jack off while you're in me."
	"Am I gonna get shit on my dick?"  I hadn't seen anything on
Fowler's dick when he pulled it out of Billy, but I was wanting some kind
of assurance.
	"Na.  I took a dump before you came over."
	"OK.  Bend over."
	He jumped up, startling me.  I'd thought he was going to just bend
over and spread his cheeks.
	"I got some lube back here," he said, stepping over to a cabinet
and opening a drawer, his pants down made him shuffle.  His dick was fully
stiff.  He pulled out some Vaseline.  As he opened the jar I noticed it was
about half full.  What happened to the rest of it, I wondered.  "Grease it
up with this, then put it in slow."
	Ray handed me the jar and bent over the back of an old couch that
we'd been laying on a few minutes before, choking on each other's dicks.
I'd almost climaxed as I'd fondled Ray's ass cheeks while he slowly pumped
into my face and attempted with all his energy to swallow my cock.  I'd
decided then I was queer and didn't care what long term problems that meant
for me, as long as I could do this every week.  He pulled his cheeks apart
and revealed a pink, wrinkled asshole. I stood at another milestone.  I
greased my cock and put it on Ray's pucker, Ray did the rest.  He scooted
back a little and I pushed and it began to slide in.  I pushed again and
the head was in.
	"Ugh," Ray grunted.
	I stopped, afraid I'd hurt him.
	"Push it in, but slow," he said, exhibiting conflicting sentiments
about being on the verge of a total butt penetration.  I liked being the
penetrator.  I gave him a little push and some more slid in.  Ray didn't
complain so I gave him some more.  Soon it was all in, and my belly pressed
his butt cheeks.  Warm and appealing, I ran my hand over them, then pushed
him up a bit on the couch.  He squirmed a little, impaling himself further
to the hilt.
	"Oh, that's good.  Now fuck me."
	The first long stroke told me there would only be a few more, the
warmth and the pressure on my cock from tip to base added to the hour of
sucking it had already had put me right on the brink.  I moaned and pumped
a little faster.  Ray pushed me back so he could get his hand on his cock.
A flurry of strokes and he climaxed.  The spasms of his butt while he shot
a huge slimy load onto the back of couch pushed me over and I shot what I
had into his ass.
	Ray cleaned up the mess, including wiping some brown slime off my
dick with some paper towels he had conveniently stored in the same cabinet.
I enjoyed standing there with my satisfied but still pleasantly plump cock
dangling inches from his face as he washed and groomed it.  I was beginning
to see all the complex relationship issues this queer road offered; a
cornucopia of roles to be played and enjoyed.

	Bud Lesch found a way to show me his dick the first afternoon I
worked at his used car lot.  He'd dropped by the Sinclair station one
afternoon when he knew I'd be there and talked about needing someone to
wash cars at his lot on Saturdays.  Billy said he thought it would be a
good thing for me to have a paying job.

	The next week, when I was about finished with the cars he'd brought
back from the auction in Memphis, Bud walked around the back of the wash
rack, which was outside behind the office, and pulled his dick out to pee.
He was a bald middle aged guy with a beer gut, who wore loud sports shirts
and double pleated slacks.  Nothing attractive about his guy, but he had
one impressive cock.  He flopped that thing out and I couldn't stop staring
at it, like a donkey dick, it hung long and limp with a big flared head.
He just chuckled as I stared.  He flopped it a time or two to dry it off
and then stuffed it back in his pants.
	"Move that last one into the line and then come on inside, we can
talk about coming back next week."
	One of the big pluses so far to this job had been the fact that Bud
let me drive the cars around the lot.  I had finished driver's ed but
didn't have my license yet.  The other was watching Bud work, he had the
gift as far as sales was concerned and I'd seen him sell a couple cars that
afternoon.  I wiped off my hands and moved the two year old Chevy to the
end of the line of cars and walked toward the office.
	"Here's your five bucks.  Come back next week and we'll have some
more to wash," he said as I came in the door.  Five bucks was a very good
afternoon's wage for the mid-fifties, I took the crisp fiver and looked at
it before folding it and carefully putting it into my wallet.
	"So, you gettin' any of that high school pussy?"  He asked, leaning
back in his chair and putting his hands behind his head.
	"Well, not really."
	"Shame."  He paused, then said, "I seen you hanging around with
that Carl guy from the high school.  He been suckin' your dick?"
	"No.  I don't know him, just to see him is all."
	"He'll suck, you know.  Just ask him."
	"I don't think I'd do that, he's a tough guy."
	"You want to be sucked, though?"
	"Well..," I was stalling.
	"Hell, everyone wants to be sucked.  I know I do.  You been suckin'
Billy Ray?"
	"No."  I blushed beet red, and that gave it away.  At least I
thought it did and that gave it away.
	"That's OK.  Shit, I heard Billy Ray had the biggest dick in town,
except for mine, of course.  You've seen us both, who's bigger?"
	I shrugged, not trusting myself to speak.
	"You want to make another five?"
	Well, there it was.  I knew we'd get here and here we were.  He
just sat there with a bland look on his face.
	"How?"  I knew it was a dumb question.
	"How do you think?"
	"I won't suck it."  I said quietly.
	"Play with it.  You might like it." He stood up and walked around
the desk then motioned for me to sit down.  "Have a seat, I'll watch the
lot.  If anyone comes in I'll just stuff it back in and we'll wait for `em
to come in.  You don't need to do anything, just hold it."
	He opened his pants and pulled it out, plump and soft.  He just let
it hang there in front of me.  He looked casually over his shoulder at the
lot, then back at me.

	I hid the second five in my shoe until I could get home and stash
it away somewhere.  I had washed the semen out of my shirt front, and Bud
had carefully scrutinized my hair for more, chuckling the whole time.
	"You're gonna have to learn to stay on that thing til it quits
spurting, otherwise you make a mess."
	I could taste it, and smell it on my breath.  I wondered how many
sperm were swimming away in my stomach, a bunch probably.  Still, I knew
they'd get digested like a cheeseburger or glass of milk and be gone in no
time.  Nothing had been broken, and Bud was the one on the hook if anyone
found out what we'd done.  He was going to be very careful, and very
grateful.