Date: Tue, 15 Feb 2011 12:22:56 -0600
From: Martin Heidegger <mheidegger@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Queer Road:  Voyeur II

			The Queer Road

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

Additional note: Each segment is a complete short story that builds on the
characters and events in the previous stories of the same name.  The other
story lines use different characters, locations, and time frames.  All
these stories express the main theme, of the many turns and stops along the
queer road.


			Voyeur II


	"See Margie the Boom Boom Girl!" He exclaimed as he beat a
weathered bass drum on the stage of the "cooch show" at the carnival that
had come to our county fair.  George Garland, my best friend and I were
standing entranced in the front row of the gaggle of onlookers attracted by
the drum.  A rough looking character in baggy khakis and a loud Hawaiian
shirt spoke into a hand held microphone while he beat the drum.  A bored
thirty something woman in a short fringed skirt with large breasts bulging
out of a sequined bikini top leaned against the door to the tent behind the
stage, hinting that just inside one could see something really special.
	"See the tassel dance!  See the Black Light Review!  See Margie,
the Boom Boom Girl!"
	Oh, how I wanted to!  But, I was only 15, and George was 14.  They
were letting in all the high school guys that had driver's licenses, and
all the old farmers, but when George and I sidled up to the ticket booth
the bass drum guy just shook his head and looked over our shoulders to the
next guys in line. We stood aside and watched sadly as they filed in, and
the music started.
	"Damn!  We gotta get in there," George said, as we walked away.
	We circled to the side of the marquee tent and could see a travel
trailer parked in the back and another woman, younger, clutched a pink
silky robe as she walked to the back of the tent.  So there were two women
in the show!  Even better. We walked the midway again and returned in half
an hour as the show was letting out.
	"I never seen nuthin' like that!  Can you believe she smoked a
cigarette in her twat?"  Corky Butler, my sister's boyfriend said to his
buddies as they walked past, ignoring we younger guys.
	"Well, you could'a had a drag off it," another replied.
	"No way!  No telling who's been up that hole," he replied.
	In the back we saw Margie and the girl in the pink robe go back
into the travel trailer, while the guy with the bass drum lit a cigarette
and sat watching the crowd.  Performers need their rest.
	It was near the end of a dusty hot September and the cotton harvest
was at its peak.  The three gins in town were running full out day and
night, and the town was filled with cotton trailers and the tractors that
pulled them.  Farm labor was getting a good, for them, payday and they
flocked into town for a Saturday of fun at the fair.
	"See Margie the Boom Boom Girl!"  He started up again, beating the
drum and another gaggle of farmers and pimple faced teenaged boys began to
gather.  Margie came out of the trailer and made her way to the stage.
	"Let's go around back and see if we can see under the tent," George
suggested.
	We circled around the travel trailer as the drum beat and the
barker called out the highlights of the next show.  There was a big
electric generator right behind the tent and it screened us as we snuck
back toward the travel trailer and the back of the tent.  The plan was to
at least get a glimpse of the girl in the pink robe.  The ticket line out
front was even bigger than the last time as we waited by the generator.
The drum stopped and the trailer door opened and there she was!  We backed
into the shadows by the generator and watched her, even prettier and
younger than before.  She stubbed out a cigarette and lifted the corner of
the tent, we pressed closer, and inside we could see the gathering crowd
and a small stage.
	"Gotcha!"  A big hand grabbed my arm and George's at the same time.
A burley roustabout was stationed behind the tent during shows to keep such
as us from getting a peek.  He walked us around to the front.
	"Hey Barney, got a couple peekers here."
	"Pitch 'em out," the guy in the Hawaiian shirt said with a scowl
and stab of his thumb toward the entrance at the other end of the midway.
He went back to taking dollar bills and handing out theater tickets.
	Oh, the humiliation of being dragged the whole length of the midway
by this guy, and halfway there George broke free and ran off, leaving me by
myself.  We got to the main entrance and they stamped a big red star on my
right hand and pushed me into the parking lot.
	"Don't come back."  He said and turned, knowing I wouldn't dare.
	It was about 8 o'clock and the sun was down and the sky fading from
light blue at the horizon to the darkest blue straight up, with stars.  The
music of the carousel and noise of the crowd and the engines running the
generators that fed the bright lights, punctuated by the roar of the little
roller coaster and the guns firing on the arcade faded as I walked in
complete dejection into the parking lot.  My mother had entered two jars of
peach jelly in the jelly contest, and my sister had sewn a dress for 4-H,
and my father was manning his feed store booth at the Ag tent, and they
wouldn't be ready to leave until after ten.  It was three miles to town.
	A few excited latecomers rushed giggling in anticipation toward the
bright lights as I trudged the other way.  We'd parked at the end of the
row.  The car was open, but I didn't have a key so I couldn't listen to the
radio.  I leaned against it for awhile and watched the sky fade completely
to black and then I got in and slumped behind the wheel and felt sorry for
myself.  I hoped Dad wouldn't find out what I'd done.
	Someone ran by the car window, panting and giggling as he ran.  He
was looking over his other shoulder and didn't see me.  He was a little
younger than me, and dressed in worn bib overalls, which marked him as from
the country; from a farm labor family that lived on the land and passed
those overalls down to boys and girls until the cloth was smooth and worn
and hung almost as loose and diaphanous as that silk robe I'd seen a few
minutes before.  I could see another boy, older and also dressed in bib
overalls, ambush him from the next row of cars.  If they were playing hide
and seek he'd pulled off the classic double back and ambush ploy.  They
fell to the ground as the older boy tackled the younger, who was still
giggling.
	"How'd you find me?"
	"I knew you'd run this way."  He pulled him up to his feet, still
holding an arm.  While they were brushing the grass off the older boy was
craning around, looking in all directions.
	I recognized that move and sank further into the shadows in our
car.
	"Back here," he said, pushing his companion toward a pickup truck
loaded with hay that was parked just in front of our car, also at the end
of the row.
	"What for?"
	"You know what for."
	"I don't want to.  I want to go back."
	"Yeah you want to.  You been shaking your butt at me all night.
Now I aim to get some of it."
	They walked in front of the truck and then stood in the shadow
behind it, carnival lights on one side, soybean field on the other.  The
older boy let go of the other's arm.
	I scooted to the passenger side, eyes peeking above the dashboard.
	"Who else is fuckin' your butt?"
	"Nobody," came a demur reply.
	"Shit.  I know Raymond is.  You was playin' grabass out in the
field today."
	"I don't know."
	The older boy backed the younger against the truck as they talked
and his hand massaged the front of those soft pliable overalls.  Then his
other hand reached behind to knead the back side.  There was no struggle.
	"Raymond sucks me first.  You gonna?"
	"No."  He reached up and released the snap on the boy's shoulder
strap, and then the other.  The garment dropped to his waist, exposing a
bare juvenile hairless chest, beginning to heave with sexual excitement.
He ran his hand across it, then pulled the pants down.  Boy's erect penis
popped out, unencumbered by any underwear.  "Whoa, what's this?"  He
grabbed it and the boy gasped.  He felt it and pulled back the foreskin.
	"Don't, that hurts," boy whispered, pulling back.
	"Do mine."  He released both of his shoulder snaps and dropped his
top, revealing a large dick with a big bulging head.  He stood up on his
toes and looked over the cab of the truck to see if anyone was near.
	"You got anything to make it go in?  It hurt last time."
	"Did Raymond do you this afternoon?"
	"Yeah."
	"It'll be slick from that.  Spit on it if you want."
	Boy leaned over and cleared his throat and spit, rubbing it in.
	"Shit boy, suck on it.  Get some spit on it, now.  Don't tell me
you never had a dick in your mouth."
	Boy took the dick and bobbed slowly up and down, then stood up.
	"Bend over."
	Boy turned and bent over, leaning against the truck.  He pulled his
pants all the way down, revealing a perfect round white ass.  He spread his
cheeks and the other boy guided his dick into the space.  Three or four
short strokes and he was in, with only a momentary gasp from the boy.
	"Told you it'd be slick."  He stood there while the boy squirmed a
bit getting used to it, then began a slow steady pump.
	I carefully unzipped my pants and retrieved my swollen member, this
was way better than seeing that cooch dancer in the pink robe.  I pumped as
both the boys began to pant, the pace picking up.
	Boy bent over even more, and bent his legs to extend his butt back,
taking all the dick he was being offered.  His partner was slapping into
this soft juvenile buttocks with each stroke, his balls swinging below.
Older boy reached around and stroked boy for a bit, then stopped to grab
the buttocks and pick up the pace.  Boy jacked his own dick.
	"Oh, God!"  The climax hit the older boy and he cried out, hips
pumping short quick jabs.  Then he slowed.
	"Don't stop yet."  boy frantically pumped his dick, still stuffed
from behind.  "Uggh."  The motion slowed down.  They stood there for a
minute or more, then parted.  The older boy stepped back, deflating dick
dripping into the grass and reached into his overalls fishing out some
coins.
	"Here, get some cotton candy.  Thanks Jerry."  Then he pulled out a
handkerchief and wiped his dick, snapped up his overalls, furtively looked
around the truck, and left.
	The younger boy stood there buck naked watching him go, then looked
at the coins, pulled up his pants, snapped the shoulder straps and followed
his friend back toward the midway.

	I had cum all over my shirt and on the front of my pants.  I used
some tissues I found in the glove compartment and some Windex from in there
to clean up.  Finally dry I opened the passenger side door and walked over
to the truck.
	Boy's climax had hit the side of the truck door in four spurts,
beginning to run down the side it looked a little like the letter M.  I
could hear the drum start to beat in the distance, calling the crowd for
Margie, the Boom Boom Girl.