From: mwaggen@sirius.com
Subject: DANNY'S ESCAPE
Date: Sun, 28 Apr 1996 00:09:47 GMT
Organization: Sirius Connections

The following story is a fictional account of a boy's
experiences in running away from home.  It depicts
sexual encounters with other boys and men.  IF you
do not enjoy reading this type of material, TAKE A HIKE...
DELETE THIS FILE NOW!

IF by some chance you are under the age of consent, (whatever
that may be  in whatever part of this God's green earth you
may calling from) then you should go to alt.barney.insults,
and play there.

For those of you ABOVE the age of consent, Ihope you enjoy the
story.  Feedback is always appreciated.

Last chance to quit...  OKAY, let's get on with the story.  The
writer takes no responsibility for accidents that may occur
(such as cum on your monitor, blisters on your dick, etc.) for
reading this work.


DANNY'S ESCAPE
CHAPTER 1

The ticket agent thought the man who bought my ticket was my father.  He
wasn't.  I knew that if I'd bought a ticket for myself that the agent
would be suspicious.  Thirteen year old boys don't normally buy themselves
train tickets for trans-continental trips.  He'd have every right to
wonder where I got the money for the ticket although I had saved it and
nearly two thousand dollars more.

I didn't dare ask anyone I knew to buy the ticket; that's why I
approached the man outside the station in Lucas, Ohio.  A friend would
tell my mother where I went and I wanted my tracks to be completely
covered.  I was on my way out of this rotten town and away from a mother
and step father who would undoubtedly be glad to see me go.  They'd call
the cops, I knew, and the cops would try to track me down.  They had
done so the other six times I'd run away.  The police never seemed to
care when I told them of the whippings I got at home.  They only wanted
to get me back with my "folks" where I belonged.

Belonged.

Bull shit!

I ran away the first time when I was ten and had been doing so regularly
since then about every six months.  I got sick and tired of the belt or
the willow switch or the cigarette.  It was both of them who did it.  It
was both of them I wanted to get as far away from as possible.  I didn't
care where I went, really, but San Francisco was two thousand miles away
and I felt I might be welcome there.

You see, I'm gay.

I know, thirteen year old boys ain't supposed to know if they are but I've
known since I was six or seven.  I didn't know the words for it, didn't
even know I wasn't supposed to be until about the tenth time I was
caught with one of my little friends playing with his twinkie (as my
mother called it).  All I knew was that I liked playing with my friend's
penises almost as much I liked having them play with mine.  It started
with simple games of "show and touch" (sounds like a new thing to do in
kindergarten) which would always produce an erection for me if not for
my buddies.  At the young ages I started these games with my friends,
and I was, indeed, the instigator of most of them, it wouldn't be long
before we were caught.  At first my folks just scolded me.  That didn't
stop me.  Then came the spankings and as I grew older, the beatings.

I don't want you to think that the only thing I was whipped for were my
games with my buddies.  As I got older, the old man laid into me for
just about anything I did, mostly for mouthing off to him, it seemed.  I
never could learn to keep my trap shut when I felt I was right about
something.

I also don't want you to think that I was unhappy as a kid.  I wasn't.
I loved those parts of my life which I made happen.  Like Jeremy.

Jeremy was a friend of mine in the sixth grade.  By the time I was
eleven most of the kids had been told by their parents to stay away from
me.  Three years of being caught at sex play can ruin a guy's rep with
the older crowd.  I'd started hearing things like "little faggot' from
adults and kids alike.  That didn't stop the boys I knew from coming to
me if they felt like a rubbin' on their nubbin'.  I could play my games
with them in their basements or in empty lots but I just couldn't play
in their games on the school yard.

Jeremy was different from most of the rest of them.  For one thing, he
was a newcomer to Lucas in the sixth grade and he didn't know my
reputation when we first began our secret games.  But I don't think that
would have mattered.

Being new in the town, Jeremy wasn't included in a lot of the other
kid's games.  He also wasn't very good at throwing or catching or at any
type of ordinary eleven or twelve year old's activities.  We became
friends because of our exclusion by the other boys.  Shortly after
becoming friends, he invited me over to his house on a Saturday for a
sleep over.  I arrived early that rainy, October afternoon as he had
asked.  His mother greeted me and my old lady at the door.

"Welcome to our house, Danny," she said, sounding very formal but
exuding warmth and love.  Jeremy was almost hiding behind her; he seemed
as shy as the first day he came to school.  We went to his room to play.

Most of my friends have G.I.  Joe action figures.  Some people might
call them dolls but none of the boys would.  If you told another kid
that he played with dolls, you were in for a real fight.  Jeremy's room
was covered with dolls, mostly fashion dolls like Barbie, but there must
have been fifteen of them.  The room looked really pretty with them.
There were also a nearly equal number of car models which were very well
made.  I couldn't see much glue on any of them.  He'd done a real good
job for a twelve year old.

Jeremy seemed more than little uneasy when I entered.

"Kinda funny, huh?" he shrugged.

"What?"

"You know, the dolls."  His deep brown eyes were on the verge of tears.
He felt he'd blown it with me by having me come to his house.

"These are neat," I said and said it meaning what I said.  His was the
nicest room I'd ever seen.  I picked up a Ken Doll.  "Let's play."

"You really want to?"  Jeremy asked.

By then I'd gotten out some of the accessories and started setting up a
game.

"Come on, asshole, lets play," I let the obscenity slip on purpose.

We played with the dolls for about forty-five minutes.  Jeremy was
Barbie for most of the time and then introduced a friend of Ken's,
Peter.  Peter started taking over a more important role in the game from
Barbie.  Finally it was just me and Ken with Jeremy and Peter.  The game
got around to the point of Ken and Peter going swimming.  They were on
the sandy beach by the river, in their day time clothing, trunks in
hand.

"Looks like a good place to swim," Peter says.

"Yeah, it does," Ken replies.  "I'll go find a place to change.

"Just change here.  We're both men," Peter enthuses.

Both Ken and Peter take off their shirts then pull down their pants.

"See, they don't really have anything," Jeremy said.  There was a pause
of about five or ten seconds.  "I do, though."

He waited several more seconds then pulled down his pants, jeans first,
then the Jockey shorts.  He kicked them both off at once and stood with
his arms akimbo, looking at his cock.

"Does yours get stiff like this?" he asked me very matter of factly,
looking up at me.

"Hey, take a look," I shrugged.

Jeremy pulled down my shorts.  I didn't wear underwear.  My cock stood
out as straight as his did.  Straighter, really since his actually
angled upward along his smooth belly.  His was the first uncircumcised
penis I'd seen.  I was fascinated by the tight, fully stretched skin
that covered Jeremy's cockhead.

"Does it feel good when you rub it?" he asked, his voice squeaking as he
took the length of his penis in his hand and started stroking it.

My answer was to start jerking on mine, and I mean jerking.  Jeremy had
a gentle, smooth stroke to his masturbation.  Mine always has had a
frantic, jerky quality about it.

He moved closer.  I could smell the faint odor of skunk about him.  He
reached over and replaced his hand for mine on my prick.  He was
stroking both of us at the same rate.  I closed my eyes for a moment;
the feeling was wonderful.  His was the best hand I'd ever had on my
cock.  I switched my hand for his and began stroking on his.  I could
feel him moving around on the floor beside me, not missing a beat with
his hands as he did.  I kept my eyes closed, almost afraid that by
opening them the dream would end.  Jeremy stopped his movement on the
floor and stopped the movement on my prick as well.  Still he maintained
a light grasp on it.  I prayed for what I wanted to happen next but felt
that a little faggot's prayers couldn't possibly be answered.

They were though.

The next thing I felt was the warm breath of my friend on the end of my
penis then the moistness of his lips on the cockhead.  He lingered at
the tip for the briefest of kisses, then sucked the whole head into his
mouth.  He rolled the tip around in the wetness.  I had to open my eyes
and watch.  He pushed farther down on the little pricklet, making
swallowing movements with his mouth.  I wasn't more than three and a
half inches hard.  I knew since I had measured myself often and always
had to push the ruler into my belly to get even that much length
accounted for.  Jeremy had the full length in his mouth and was trying
to suck my balls in as well.  The sight of what was happening to me,
this unspoken dream, was too much for me.  My belly jerked up and my
prick started the dry spasms I'd had been able to rouse infrequently
before.  These spasms lasted longer and were far more intense than any
I'd ever felt.

I collapsed backward on the floor when the orgasm ended, Jeremy still
sucking.  The pressure was too much to bear so I pushed him away.
Breathless, I couldn't say anything.  Jeremy looked at me like he was
going dissolve.

"I'm sorry," he pleaded.  "I don't know why I....  Please don't tell
anyone.  I won't do it again."

Tears started to run from his eyes and then he began the quiet sobbing I
would only see one other time from him.  In answer to his embarrassed
pleas, I pushed him backward.  For a moment a look of extreme sorrow
mixed with fear for his safety grabbed his face.  The look must have
changed when I dived for his cock and sucked its soft length into my
mouth.  It must have changed but I didn't see it since my eyes were
facing his belly.  I sucked his dick back to the hardness it had lost in
his fear.  He was longer and broader than me.  I could feel the
difference; I wanted to measure them against each other, but Jeremy had
me at a disadvantage right then.  I was soft and his hard-on was tearing
at the skin of his cockhead.  I moved the foreskin with my tongue and
was able to skin it back with my lips.  I sucked as hard as I normally
jacked myself.  Jeremy had his orgasm almost as quickly as I had, but
his was stronger than mine and his prick erupted a bitter-sweetness into
the back of my throat.  I pulled the cock out in time to see it spitting
the thick semen at my face.  A wad hit my nose and dribbled down into my
mouth.  I took the spurting prick back into my mouth and sucked and
gnarled it 'till Jeremy was rolling on the floor yelling at me to stop.
Finally I realized that I might be hurting him.

"Sorry," I said, "hope I didn't bust nothing.  Oh, God! do you think
your mom heard?"

"Don't worry, she leaves me alone when I'm in my room; it's kinda my
sanctuary.  It's not likely that she heard, anyway.  She's next door at
her friend's.  I heard her leave."  Jeremy was panting the words out.
"You won't tell?"

"Hell no, asshole.  I sucked you, too and I drank your spunk.  You got
one on me if you want."

"No thanks.  I just want to be your friend."

When we went to bed that night I spread my sleeping bag on the floor.
Jeremy asked if I'd like to share the bed.  It seemed like an excellent
idea.  We had gotten closer throughout the evening and I was still young
enough that his mother probably wouldn't care.  Jeremy explained that he
didn't think she would care even if she knew what we had done or if we
were older.  His response puzzled me.  What we had done was wrong, a
sin.  I knew it was a sin and that I'd burn in hell if I didn't confess
it at Confession.  Why would what we had done be okay with his mother.

In any event I crawled into the bed with him after we said good night to
his mom.  I had on my underwear; Jeremy had on pajamas.  I wanted to
play some more and slid my hands under the waist band of his p.j.'s.  He
pulled me close to him and kissed my lips.  I'd never been kissed by a
male before.  Oh, maybe my real father did but he died when I was two
and my mother's husband sure as hell wouldn't do it.  I told him so.

"Well you're the first boy I've done any of this stuff with," he
admitted.

We kissed and played for about an hour before Jeremy slipped off to
sleep.  I lay in bed looking at his long brown hair, his long straight
eyelashes.  I liked what I saw and loved who had them.  At that moment I
knew I was gay.  I knew because I knew in my gut that Jeremy was and we
were the same.

We were lovers for the next two years.  Jeremy's mother discovered us
one day about six months after our first time and he was right.  She
didn't seem to mind and was always as nice to me as from before she
found out.  We spent our nights together at his place since I didn't
want my folks to make fun of Jeremy or me in front of him.  Which they
would.  But his mother was great to us.  I suspect she knew we loved
each other.  That must be why she seemed so sad when she told me that
she and Jeremy would be moving six months ago.

You understand, now, that I have several reasons for leaving good, old
Lucas.  Life has been miserable for me the past six months since Jeremy
left.  I don't have any reason to stay here.  That's why I was hanging
around the train station one Saturday morning, looking for a man to play
at being my father long enough to buy me a ticket to San Francisco.

Jeremy lives in San Francisco.


DANNY'S ESCAPE
CHAPTER 2

I walked to the platform with the man who bought the ticket for me.  We
must have seemed like father and son.  He was over six feet tall and I'm
small for my age.  At thirteen I should be taller than the four foot ten
that I can stretch to.

When I had asked him to buy the ticket for me, I told him that I had to
go to San Francisco to visit my grandmother who was sick and my parents
couldn't make it to the station to buy it for me.  It was a pretty weak
excuse but the only one I could come up with at the time.  The man had
smiled when he agreed to do it.  I guessed that he knew what was going
on, so my accompanying him to the platform didn't seem to surprise him.
It seemed funny not talking to him while we waited for the train.  I
felt like I should say something yet nothing except the "thanks" I'd
already said came to mind.  He broke the strange and strained silence.

"San Francisco's a nice city.  I think you'll enjoy your visit there."

"I never been there," I answered.  "I'm looking forward to it."

"Too bad it has be under the circumstances that are bringing you there."

"Huh?"  I didn't understand him at first then my excuse about my
grandmother came back to me.  "Oh, yeah,.  Well, I don't think she's too
sick.  I'm just 'sposed to keep her company."  I didn't have any
grandparents in San Francisco or anywhere for that matter.  I figured
that I'd have to do some fast talking to cover up my ignorance.  I
didn't even have an address for my fictitious grandmother.  The man
looked at me with a glimmer of suspiciousness in his eyes.

"You'll like it there," he said, dropping the subject of San Francisco
and easing my discomfort.  We stayed on the platform trading small talk
until the train arrived.

"Well, have a nice trip," the man said as he boarded.  Suddenly the
prospect of a trip to the west coast by myself seemed more frightening
than I'd thought it would be.  I almost asked the man if we could sit
together, but he turned to the right into an area of the train which was
reserved for people who had roomettes.

I turned left and walked through the club car.  Many times I had watched
the trains come through Lucas and wondered what the club car would be
like.  Now I knew.  The bustle and business was enticing.  People were
playing cards, drinking, talking or just looking out the domed windows
in the upper part of the car.

I found an empty seat in a car not far from the club car and settled in.
Most of the rest of the morning I stayed in my seat reading one of the
science fiction books I'd brought.  I was enjoying myself until
Cincinnati.  A mother and her three children settled themselves into the
seats across from me.  The oldest boy was maybe nine or ten and very
cute.  His being there made me uncomfortable since I didn't want to gawk
at him.  The other two kids, a boy and a girl, looked like they were
twins about five or six years old.  I could tell that they were brats
from the moment they got to their seats.

As much as enjoyed watching the slender, blond older brother, I couldn't
take their noise and activity for more than a half hour.  Finally, I
went to the club car for some peace and quiet.  The man who'd bought me
my ticket was sitting at a table by himself, reading.  He looked up and
caught my arm when I walked by.

"That's okay.  Don't say 'hi' to an old friend," he quipped.

"You looked busy and I didn't want to disturb you," I answered in
embarrassment.

"No, I'm not busy.  I'm just trying to pass the days until I get to
Oakland."

"Where's that?"  I asked.

"Why don't you sit down?' he offered.

He explained that Oakland, were he lived, was across the bay from San
Francisco and was the last stop on the train.  Passengers for the city
took a bus from the train station to San Francisco.

His name was George Martin and we spent the afternoon talking about what
he called the Bay Area.  I told him about the invasion of the brats in
my car and he explained that that was why he usually got a roomette on
the train.

"I hope you don't feel I was rude when we parted, Danny, but I didn't
want you to think I was imposing on you.  I wouldn't mind sharing the
room with you.  There are two berths and I spend most of the time here,
anyway."

His offer seemed sincere and by that time I felt that I knew George
fairly well.  He said that he would talk to the porter so that the crew
wouldn't miss me in my seat.  I was going to miss the cute ten year old,
but I looked forward to a more relaxed journey.

Or so I thought.

George bought my dinner for me and then we spent most of the evening in
the club car.  It isn't easy to get to know someone well in the amount
of time we had spent together.  There was a bond between us which grew
that evening.  He seemed to care for me.  He was gentle and thoughtful.
He was concerned for my welfare.  I felt by the end of the evening that
George was a very special person, one I wanted to know for many years.

It was well after midnight that George asked if I was ready to go to the
room.  My stomach tingled with anticipation.  I thought of Jeremy and
our love and the times we had had together.  Although I couldn't put
words to the feeling, I wanted to be with this man, to hold him and
sleep with him.  I wanted more, too, but the idea of sex with a man
seemed so strange.

"You can go ahead and sleep here,"he said as he opened the door to the
roomette, "and I'll go back to the lounge car."

His words were soft, wistful.  I knew he was protecting me by his offer.
I didn't want protection.  I wanted him.  I grabbed him around the waist
and hugged him to me, my head against his chest.

"Please don't go,' I pleaded.  "This is the first time in six months
that I haven't been lonesome.  I'll be good.  Please stay with me."  I
was crying.  I felt that if I let go of this man he would disappear
forever.

He held me to himself and edged us into the small room.

"Okay, Danny.  Which berth do you want?"

"Your's."

He stood with mouth agape.  I'd blown it.

"I mean.  Please.  I'm so lonely.  I just want you to hold me.  No one
at home loves me.  That's why I'm running away."  Much of it came
blurting out.  I held him tighter so that he couldn't push me away.
Only he wasn't trying to push me away.  He was stroking my hair gently.

"Please sit down," he asked.  "This is very hard.  There are a lot of
people who would object to you being in this room with me, let alone
your sharing my bed.  I knew from the start that you were running away.
I never should have gotten myself involved.  If I say 'no' to you will
you understand that I still like you and care about you?"

I nodded.

"I can't say 'yes'.  You don't understand the implications.  I have too
much to lose.  Will you hate me if I say 'no'?  "

I shook my head.

"I feel like I shouldn't be in this room.  You just don't understand."
There were tears in his eyes and a knot in his throat.

"I'm sorry I made you feel this way," I said.  "I can go back to my
seat."

"You don't have to.  Please understand me.  I really care for you.  I
don't want anything to happen which could hurt you.  Do you want the
upper or lower berth?"

I sighed, "The upper, I guess."

I started to strip out of my clothes.  George turned away suddenly to
avoid seeing me.

"Hey, man, I'll keep my underpants on," I said, more than a little bit
pissed off.  I hoped they were clean.

I was pulling off my undershirt, facing the berths, when he turned back
around.

"Just wanted to give you your priva...."  He couldn't finish his
sentence.  In my anger, or possibly because of it, I had forgotten to
keep my shirt on.  I never stripped for PE like the other kids, not
because of my cock, which in spite of my height is pretty big, but
because of the scars.

There was a silence broken only by the sound of George exhaling.  He
spun me around, his hands gentle on my bare shoulder, anger in his face.
He could see the strap and burn marks on my chest.  He stood gaping
at me trying to say something.  It occurred to me that maybe he
wouldn't like me so well if I was marked up.

"The marks go away after about a year," I whispered, hoping he would
still like me.

"These marks can never go away, Danny.  I'm sorry this was done to you.
No wonder you want to be held."  He almost crushed me with the hug he
gave but I would have gladly passed out in his squeeze.  He lifted me
into his berth and slid beside me.

"I know what it's like," he said.  "I was beaten as a kid myself.  Not
like this.  Not like this."

His hands travelled over the slight ridges of the scars on my chest and
across my back.  After several minutes of caressing my torso he slipped
out of bed, turned out the light and undressed.

"Come back, please," I asked.  While he was undressing I pulled my
underpants off and pushed them to the bottom of the bed with my foot.  I
watched as he pulled off his pants.  He had a hard on under the white
cloth of his jockeys.  Then he slipped out of those.

"I can't do this to you," he mumbled.

"I want it.  Please.  I want it."

He slid back under the covers so that we lay on our sides.  His hands
travelled down my back to find the railroad tracks left by the belt the
most recent time it was used.  My erection stabbed against him and slid
up his belly as he pulled me to him.  His hard cock, bigger than any I
had seen, pushed between my legs at the base of my balls.  I could feel
the moistness of the head at my butthole.  George began moving his hips
with a slow rhythm, the huge, stiff member stroking me where I'd never
been stroked before.  I had no idea that area was so sensitive, so
responsive as it was to the persistent stabbing of the man's cock.  My
own penis, so small in comparison to the one working at my underside,
stretched as tight as it had ever felt, its tip dripping lubrication
more than I could ever remember it doing, slid up and down the man's
skin, stubbing into his belly button.

I was lost in the rocking of the train's motion and the rocking of the
big man's body.  My body felt an urgency to bring the situation to its
crisis though I wanted the feelings which were overwhelming me to last
forever.  I could feel the heat of his breath on my face when he moved
his body slightly to press his lips against mine.  His tongue pushed
between my teeth and licked at the cavern of my mouth.  Jeremy and I had
kissed often on the lips, but never had I had my mouth been probed by
another tongue as George was doing to me now.  I jabbed my smaller
tongue into his mouth and jabbed my smaller penis as hard as I could
against his belly.

Time stretched to its breaking point as my prick erupted.  Every pulse
of its orgasm seemed as long as any previous orgasm I'd had.  I could
feel each wad of semen scratching its way up the urethra and exploding
from the tip and splattering against our bodies.

George pushed me from my side to my back as my orgasm finished, still
plumbing my mouth with his tongue.  The slow, deliberate movements of
his penis quickened.  I knew he was coming when he started stabbing his
cock frantically into the ridge formed by my legs.  The sticky warmth
spattered into the crack of my ass and against my asshole which itched
and yearned for more than the tapping it was receiving from the man's
penis.

He collapsed, breathless, against me, nearly crushing me with his
weight.  His fingers still toyed with the marks of recent beatings and
burnings, marks which had been my shame a short time before but which
were now my joy.

The train whistle blew in the distance, its hollow cry blowing by the
window in the darkness.


DANNY'S ESCAPE
CHAPTER 3

It was still dark when I was awakened by this tremendous urge to pee.  I
mean PEE in great big neon, capital letters.  My pecker was so hard I
could have pole vaulted out of the berth.  I couldn't have been asleep
too long since my crack was still sticky where George had shot his load,
but I' been pulled out of a very deep sleep by my need.  I was thinking
about this while I pulled on my undershirt and tried to bend my stiff to
fit into my blue jeans.

I guess its no big deal to you to wake up and have to go to the
bathroom.  Everybody does it, after all.  Well, everybody doesn't do it.
One of the regular occurrences in my life which caused me some type of
humiliation was not waking up to have to pee but waking up in a bed
already wet with pee.

Every night in recent memory except this particular night I'd stop
drinking anything at about 8:30.  I'd use the toilet right before going
to bed, sometimes straining so hard to get something out that I'd get
tears in my eyes from the effort.  I would lie in bed and pray, really
pray to God, to have a dry night.  God must have had a good, god-type
belly laugh at my expense.  It wasn't so bad when I was six or seven.  I
guess a lot of boys still do it at that age.  But I'm thirteen and I'm
still wetting my bed.  I don't do it every night, just often enough to
let everyone in my family know I wasn't cured of my problem.

My folks figured the best way to "break" me of doing it was the way they
did with anything.  The slaps and spankings weren't so bad.  I got used
to being pushed around at an early age.  It got so that even when the
old man lay into me with the belt, I could bite my lip or clamp my teeth
and not make a sound even when the leather was cutting into my skin.
The bastard hated that.  When I stopped crying is when he graduated to
cigarettes or putting whiskey on the marks.  I would cry then but I was
getting better about it.  By the last time he did it, I barely made a
sound although there were still tears.

In any event I seldom got a whipping for doing it.  The old man wouldn't
do much of anything.  When my mother would announce for my sister and
him that I'd "done it again", he'd usually say something like "what do
you expect from a little piss-ass faggot."  (I think I'd be more
humiliated by my mother's overly glowing announcements of my dry nights.
It was my mother who would get all pushed out of shape when it would
happen.  She would usually slap me and say it was a filthy thing.

"How filthy?" she would yell.  "This filthy."  Then she would spit in my
face.  Not always.  More than once she pushed my face into the wetness
and hold my head there.  I didn't mind the smell.  I passed out once
because I couldn't breath.  When I came to she was holding me and
rocking me and saying how it was okay.  (Only I knew it wasn't okay.)
She didn't mind the fact I'd pissed on myself when I passed out but that
was because of feeling guilty.  One time I must have gone right before I
woke up because the sheets were really soaked and were still warm.  She
made me suck on the sheets "to taste the filth."  I didn't mind the
taste.

I swear, she tried everything to make me stop:  diapers made from old
sheets that I'd ruined (I cut school on those days and forged my absence
notes;) having me sleep in the tub (I didn't sleep much because the tub
was cold against my nude body); hanging the yellowed sheets out my
window for the neighbors to see.  When I was eleven I was desperate to
stop.  I tied a ribbon around my wiener as I called it then and went to
bed.  I awakened in extreme pain and my penis was terribly swollen.  I
could hardly get the ribbon off.  I was sure that my wiener was going to
rot and fall off.

It almost never happened at Jeremy's, though.  Shortly after I started
spending nights over there, my mother called his mom to tell her about
my nasty habit, to warn her about it, my mother said.  The next time I
went over, Jeremy's mom waited until I was alone and very matter of
factly told me that the sleeping bags we both used were washable.  She
gave me a hug.  I was a little embarrassed by it but she was so cool
about the whole thing that my embarrassment didn't last long.  She never
said anything, really, but we both understood and I was grateful.  I
only did it a couple or three times in the two and a half years I was
going over there.

The bathrooms on this train were funny places.  They were kinda nice and
comforting.  There were soft, cushioned seats along the walls and the
toilet was in a separate little room.  At night the light was low.  I
sat there for about fifteen or twenty minutes thinking about all of this
stuff.  My bladder ached and felt like it was about to burst, however I
was enjoying the feeling.  I'd had a lot to drink that evening.  George
bought me sodas while he drank gin and tonics.  I must have had five
sodas to his two drinks, but in my anxiousness about where and with whom
I was going to sleep, I only pee'd once and that was quite awhile before
bedtime.  I had forgotten about my problem.  I had awakened from my
sleep needing to piss.  It wasn't like I had had a dry night.  I
actually woke up.  I didn't wet the bed.

By the time I stood up from the seat, I had to go so badly that I wasn't
sure I'd make it to the toilet in time.  Once inside, though, my rod was
so stiff I couldn't get it started.  I bent it to soften it up.  I aimed
the flow at the stainless steel bowl, watching the liquid splash off
the sides and swirl into a little yellow lake at the bottom.  It
reminded me of that morning which seemed so many years and miles away
but which was really less than a day gone by.

I'd planned my escape carefully this time, planned for several weeks.
My folks both worked and it being Saturday they would be out of the
house before I was awake.  My sister would be gone to her job as well.
I had set my alarm for shortly after they would have left.  A dry night.
That was a funny one.  My last night in that fucking hole and I'd had a
dry night.  I was all packed so all I had to do was slip on my clothing.
I was on my way to the bathroom when the funniness of my dry night
struck me.  I'd leave them something to remember me by.  I pulled off
the bed clothes and stuffed the plastic mattress cover (how I hated it)
into my closet.  I remade the bed, leaving the covers pulled down at the
foot.  I jumped onto the bed and pulled out my dick.  From one corner at
the foot I started forming the message in shaky cursive, yellow letters.
I almost didn't have enough room for the ending "o" but squeezed it in.
I ran out of room before I ran out of pee so I pissed from my perch onto
the pillow on the floor.

I looked at my handiwork.  It looked pretty good but there was a large
blank spot between the "fuck" and the "you."  I dropped my pants and
laid a dump right in the empty spot.  It was good sized one, and it
stunk.  I wiped my ass on the top covers, pulled up my pants, and hopped
off.  I put the soaked pillow in place and neatly made my bed for one
last time.  I giggled at the lump in the middle which I was so careful
to preserve.

I giggled softly remembering it, too.  I guess it was a dumb thing to
do, and if I was caught before getting out of town, you can imagine what
would have happened to me.  Only I'd love to have done it to both of
them.

I'd been in the john long enough.  I wanted to go back to my friend.

Friend:  the word had a good feel top it.


DANNY'S ESCAPE
CHAPTER 4

I swear, I shake my prick after I pee till you think it's going to come
off in my hand, and I still get a wet spot.  No one would see this one,
tough, since it was late so I didn't care.

George was still asleep in the berth but he'd turned from his side to
his back.  I'd knocked the covers off when I'd gotten out of bed.  It
was warm enough in the little room that George hadn't tried to pull them
back up.

I moved by the bed and began undressing, looking at the body I hadn't
looked at closely before.  His hair was gray and dark blond but mostly
gray.  I knew he had blue eyes beneath the closed lids.  There was a
small amount of gray hair on his chest and dark brown hair starting at
his naval which marched in a thin line down to his dark tangle of pubic
hair.

I didn't spend much time looking at the pubic hair, you can be sure, not
with what was lying up against it in all of its erect glory.

Over the last eight years I've been able to observe a lot of
penises, some from pretty close range.  When I was younger, they were
all pretty much alike.  Some were cut, like mine, and some weren't, like
Jeremy's.  All were tiny.  I wasn't really much of a connoisseur at the
ages of 5 to 9. When the kids I was taking care of started to grow and
change "down there" I started to notice differences, even among the
younger ones.  In junior high the locker room afforded some additional
viewing although I had to be careful not to be seen doing so or suffer
something like "Whatcha lookin' at, fag breath?"  Because of this, I
could only glimpse at boys' peters and piece together my mental
catalogue of sizes, shapes, textures and colors.

Jeremy's cock I knew better than my own since I knew how his tasted and
felt in my mouth, and I could only imagine how mine was.  His was the
first uncircumcised prick I'd seen up close.  When we first started our
games together, there was a lot of extra skin at the end of his dick.
As the cockhead got bigger, the skin seemed to fit better.  He was
always pretty much the same length, about four inches and only toward
the end of his stay in Lucas did it grow a little longer.  He was longer
than I was for at least a year, but then I caught up with him and passed
him in that department.  His pecker thickened up, though, and he grew
dark, straight pubic hair.  The head changed from a reddish pink to
fleshy violet.  His balls were maybe half an inch in diameter and hung
down in a sack that dangled nicely between his legs.  When he left for
San Francisco, his pecker was a good handful, four and a half inches
long when hard (we measured each other as one of our last games) and an
inch in diameter.

My cock is a bunch different from Jeremy's.  I like his better.  Mine
didn't really start to grow until last year and instead of getting
thicker, it mostly got longer.  It's now a little over five inches, hard
but barely three quarters across.  Where as Jeremy's is chubby and firm
looking whether hard or soft, mine looks funny.  It shrivels away when
soft . When its hard, it has a twist to it, and instead of sticking
straight out like it should, it sticks up in the air near my belly.  The
head is still light red.  I've got a smattering of long red hair down
there.  Some of the guy's at school started calling me "Red."  Most
kids, men too, have dark pubic hair.  Mine has to be ridiculous red.  My
balls are still little boy small and my scrotum is tight.

The piece of male meat I was eyeing couldn't compare to mine or
Jeremy's.  One doesn't compare a great work of art with doodling.
Jeremy's was the right size to fit along my tongue and just tickle the
back of my throat if he pushed.  George's would have tickled my gut if I
tried to swallow it all.  It must have been eight inches long.  I laid
both of my hands on it and gently folded them around its girth.  The
head was partially exposed by this double grasp.  George moaned softly
and stirred when I squeezed gently.  His cock throbbed back to my
squeeze.

The shaft of the prick was thick even in proportion to its length.  It
was somewhat flattened on top so that it looked triangular.  I couldn't
close my fingers around it without squeezing hard which I didn't want to
do yet.  The balls looked liked two small bird eggs in a leathery sack
which was covered in hair not bald like all the ball bags I'd seen
before.  The cockhead on this monster was the only thing which wasn't
oversized.  It looked small in comparison although it was probably a
good sized head.  It was certainly larger than Jeremy's and mine.  It
seemed to give George's penis a little, purple point at its end.  There
was a pearl of moisture at the piss slit which lengthened and dropped in
a silvery line to his belly.

My asshole itched looking at this gorgeous, drooling piece of manhood.
I knew what I wanted.  I scratched my hole and pushed a finger in to
mid-knuckle.  I had thought up butt-fucking on my own about a year ago.
Jeremy liked the idea and took me up his hole a dozen or so times.  It
always hurt him even though I'm thin, but he always came when I screwed
him.  He tried to do me, but I was always too tight for him.  He'd lose
his stiffy before getting it in except for one time when he did get the
head in.  He couldn't keep it hard enough to fuck me, though.

I liked him to finger fuck me (although he thought it was gross to get
shit on his finger).  I jacked off at home putting marbles, pens and
stuff in me.  Several times I used carrots.  I started with thin ones,
but I could now take ones that were normal sized as long as they weren't
too long.  I loved to put things up me and I'd wanted Jeremy badly,
though I couldn't get him.  Now I wanted George's dick where I was
itching even if it was bigger than anything I'd ever imagined taking.

I pulled my finger out and sucked the bitterness off.  I couldn't stop
myself from licking the sweetness of the pre-cum drooling from George's
meat.  I slipped the head into my mouth, sucked gently to get the last
of the sweetness.  George moaned, put his hands on my head, grabbing my
hair firmly but gently.  He was awake.

His hands pushed his cock farther into my mouth, stretching my lips with
his bulk.  Pushed until it filled my mouth but still barely touched its
back wall.  I couldn't breath like I could with Jeremy's dick in my
mouth since George's took up three times the space.  He used the grip on
my hair to pull my head up, luckily for I could then take a breath, not
actually pulling my hair as much as directing my head's movement.  He
pressed back down, this time pushing his cock farther back so that I
gagged and my eyes watered.  I could feel vomit rising in my stomach.

"So you like to suck cock, little boy," he snarled roughly as he pulled
my head up again, easing the nausea.  I gasped for air before he could
push me down his monstrosity once again, farther, again, than before.  I
was only halfway down his prick, but I knew I couldn't take anymore
without barfing or passing out.  My nose was running down my lips and
onto his flesh rod.  Tears were draining from my eyes.  Nausea was
rising again, and I loved the fucking my face was taking.

"Suck on it, you little cock sucker.  Take it all if you're man enough,
take my cream you little fuckface."  The words, the tone, the movements
were harsh, but he did it knowing that I loved the harshness.  You
didn't really care for me if you were rough with me.

He held the side of my face by my ears and fucked my mouth until he
started to squirt.  He pulled me off long enough to spatter two wads
onto my face then pushed me down faster, farther than before.  My throat
was being fucked, truly fucked by this huge cock which belonged to a man
I both loved and hated.

The cum squished around in my mouth and throat.  The cock churned it and
the saliva I was gagging on into a froth which slid down my throat at
one end and bubbled out at the other.

I quickly lost track of the jabs and the number of times my lover's
penis shot in my mouth.  One final, spasmodic push forced my mouth and
throat to take a final quarter of an inch.  The pressure relaxed.  I
slipped the fading cock from my mouth.  Tears, frothy cum and snot
melded on my chin.  I started to wipe my face.  A gentle touch.  My arm
dropped.  A tongue touching my lips.  The tongue softly licking chin,
lips and nose.  The voice:  soft, delicate, as strong as Celini gold,
malleable but never brittle.

"Let me clean you, dirty face."


DANNY'S ESCAPE
CHAPTER 5

George's tongue moved leisurely around my mouth, lapping the sticky
foam.

"Best my spunk has ever tasted, fuck face," he said.

His tongue cleaned my face then slid down my neck to my chest.  He
bathed me like a momma cat bathes her kitten.  When he got to my breast,
he licked in a diminishing spiral that ended on the nipple.  He sucked
it into his mouth, nibbled at it while he tickled my other one with his
hand.  I had no idea my nipples could give me so much pleasure.  My cock
got harder and was screaming to be released from the passion that it
felt from the fucking my face had taken and now from the attention my
nipples were receiving.  I reached down and started to jack on my cock
with one hand.

George pulled my hands away from my cock and held them firmly at my
sides, preventing them from accomplishing their goal.  I wriggled to try
to get loose from his grasp but to no avail.  He held fast while licking
at my nipples, seeming to put no effort into the grip that pinned my
arms.  I bucked my hips upward, trying to poke my engorged penis into
the man's belly.  I stabbed it a few times into the hair beneath his
navel.  He arched upwards to frustrate my efforts.

"If you can't, little one," he said, reaching over the side of the
berth, "I'll have to prevent you from hurting yourself."

He fumbled with whatever it was he was doing long enough for me to be
able to free my left hand.  It grabbed my poker and started rubbing it
frantically.  My pecker yelled to be mauled.  I had to cum.  I probably
wouldn't have much of anything left to shoot since I'd already come once
less than three hours earlier, but I had to shoot what I had or I was
sure I'd melt.

Just as I was getting the rhythm I needed, George pulled his necktie
from the pile of clothing on the floor.  Quickly, expertly, he tied one
end around my pinioned right hand, slipped it under my buttocks and
secured my left hand.  I was unable to reach myself in that position.  I
was frustrated and angry with George. for not letting me do myself.
After all, it was my dick and if I wanted to jack it off I should be
able to.

I looked up at George and snarled, "Son of a bitch, let me do it," and
let fly a wad of spit that hit him in the cheek.  I was immediately
sorry for what I had done.  I didn't want to lose him.  Not now.  Not
ever.  I was sure I had blown it with him.  He looked at me with a look
I couldn't fathom but which didn't look like anger.  He almost looked
pleased.

"You little piss breathed cock sucker," he growled.  Then he grabbed my
hair and roughly pulled my head up to his.  "I'm in control.  You
understand?  Me." He wiped his cheek against my mouth then let my head
fall back to the mattress.  He grabbed my cheeks with one hand and
squeezed them, forcing my mouth open in a fish face.  I could hear him
swish saliva around in his mouth.  He pursed his lips and let a long
leisurely strand of saliva fall from his mouth into mine.  The he spat
forcefully onto my face.

"Understand, scum?  I'm in charge."  I nodded quickly, afraid of what he
might do next.  My wiener had melted and was hiding as much as it could,
pretending it belonged to some six or seven year old for al the size it
had.

George glared at me for a moment longer, then forced my legs apart with
his knees.  In this position he began again to play with my nipples
while his tongue resumed its journey down my chest to my navel.  A belly
button was just before that night, but George showed me how sexy it
could be.  He lingered long enough for my penis to decide it was safe to
come out from hiding.  He continued down my belly until he reached of
mine which had caused me so much trouble earlier.  By now it was
standing straight again, yelling at me to knock it down.  Only I
couldn't if I wanted to, and I didn't want to.  George was taking care
of my needs.  He was licking at its base, and I knew he was about to
lick up the shaft and swallow it and me with it.

Wrong!

Without warning George pulled my knees up and pushed them apart.  His
tongue avoided my prick by less than an inch.  I could feel his breath
on it but not his mouth, not his wonderful, hungry mouth.  His tongue
moved down the groove of one thigh then down the other.  While lapping
at me, he pushed my knees back onto my chest, raising my butt off of the
bed.  I guess I'm not always careful about wiping because I could smell
my butt from there when he did this.  Pretty ripe actually and I was
sorry for not being more careful about cleaning up.  For sure he'd be
turned off by a dirty asshole.

Wrong again!

His tongue continued its bath around my ass cheeks in a spiral which
moved closer and closer to the hole.  He was carefully cleaning what I'd
so carelessly left.  My pucker itched in anticipation.  I was sure he
wouldn't touch it with his tongue.  After all, it was an asshole.  But
he did.  He stabbed at it and lapped at the hole and crack.  I felt like
cumming right then though I couldn't without some help.  I must have
moaned as he slobbered on my hole, forcing his tongue into it, forcing
his spit into it.

"Not so loud," he whispered.

I wondered if he could tell how much I wanted him to fuck his cock into
the hole he was so thoroughly wetting.  I wanted anything he could fit
in to go into my hole.  He let his tongue slide up my crack and lap at
my balls, slipping first one then the other into his mouth.  I cold feel
a finger at the abandoned hole.

He swished my balls around in his mouth while the finger poked
tentatively at my asshole.  For once I wasn't sorry I had what I
considered to be little boy balls so that he could play with them that
way.

The tip of his finger pushed past the muscle of my hole and stopped.  He
pulled it out and took it in his mouth, pushing my balls around while he
sloped it up with spit.  It glistened with his moisture when he pulled
it out.  He pulled against my ball sack with his mouth while
pressing slowly with his finger against my hole.  The stretching my
scrotum was taking stared to hurt but just enough to take my mind off of
the sudden pressure against my asshole as he forced his finger in to
mid-knuckle.  He let my balls fall from his mouth as he pushed forward
with the finger, it hitting something soft and pointed which crumbled
against the pressure.  My gut felt full as the obstacle was pushed
backward..

He pulled the intruding finger from my ass and licked it and its nearest
brother.

My hole wriggled for a replacement.  George obliged with two fingers and
stretched the sphincter as they pushed whatever stood in their path
upward and around.  He kissed the glans on my penis then plunged his
mouth down its full length while shoving the two fingers full up my ass.
He pumped and stroked with his mouth on my pecker while his fingers kept
rhythm with their stabbing.  I like things in my hole, but nothing was
ever quite like this.  Most things, like marbles, were too small or if
large or broad enough, like carrots, were too stiff.  These fingers,
though, stretched me so I could really feel their presence and were
flexible enough to explore my chute.  In their exploration they found a
button I didn't know existed, a button which when stabbed made my cock
feel like it was being fucked from the inside.

George kept working at me, on the inside with his pounding fingers and
on the outside with his slippery mouth.  I was on the edge and wanted to
hang there forever.  I was over the edge and shooting my jiz into the
warmth of the big man's mouth, my penis expanding then tightening with
each wad of cum that shot out.  His fingers pumped frantically through
my ass, sometimes coming all the way out only to plunge violently back
through the loosened sphincter.

When I was sucked out, George sucked once more, sending shivers all over
my body.  I collapsed onto the bed, worn out and sucked dry.  His
fingers remained clasped in my asshole.

"Whew," he said, "that sure was sweet.  Sweetest spunk I've ever tasted.
I hope you liked it."

I was too drained to do too much more than grunt but yes, I'd liked it.
"Like" was not the word.  I was ecstatic that George hadn't let me jack
myself off when I'd wanted to so that I could experience the pleasure
I'd just received.  There was one more pleasure I wanted to try soon.

The two fingers were beginning to feel uncomfortable in the vise my
butthole had become.  It felt like I had to take a crap real bad.  I
touched the hand with one of my tied hands.

"Can you take them out?"  I asked.  "They're beginning to hurt a
little."  Actually, they were beginning to hurt a lot.

George replied with a quiet laugh, "I'm not sure I can with the grip
your asshole has on them.  I may have to carry you around like this for
the rest of our lives."

I hoped he was kidding.

He continued, "It's going to hurt when I pull them out.  I'll try to
make it as easy as possible.  When I tell you to, push out like you're
going to take a crap.  Okay?"

"I'm not sure that's a good idea.  I think I have to do one."

"That's just from me being in you so don't worry.  Okay, push hard,
now."

I pushed like he said only instead of him trying to pull his fingers
out, he pushed as hard as he could inward with them and then pulled out.
The fingers yanked out with only a little pain but with a loud fart.

"Sorry about that," I said.

"Don't worry about it.  It's just the air I pumped into you and a little
shit which can wipe up easily.  It all had to go somewhere."  He said
this while untying my hands.

I could feel him wiping my ass with the tie which he then used to wipe
his fingers.

As he dropped the tie to the floor he said, "I may save that unwashed as
a memento of this very, very lovely evening."

He slipped along side of me in the berth, pulling the covers around us
as he did.  He held my head gently with both hands and kissed me full on
the lips:  no tongue, no sexual passion, just what I felt to be a lot of
love.  I couldn't help myself.  I started to cry softly.  In the dark he
couldn't tell so I didn't try to stop.  I cuddled myself against him,
filling as many of his bends and spaces with my body as I could.  My
peter was firm and erect again. though not really stiff.  I slipped it
against his flaccid one.

"Doesn't your johnny stick ever sleep?" he asked me, fondling it gently.

"Not with you near.  He wants to get as close to you as possible."

A few moments passed in the dark.

"Hey, George?"

"Yeah, babe?"

"I'm sorry about getting mad at you and spitting on you."

He put a slightly acrid smelling finger to my lips.

"Shhh.  Don';t say a word.  Sex should be a special landscape where
people can play games of honesty without fear of being hurt inside.  I'm
not sorry for anything I did ar said.  You shouldn't be, either.  You
needed me to be your master in that landscape at that time.  You needed
me to be a little rough if necessary.  I don't think you need it when
you leave there.  I'm glad I could make it happen for you, little one."

I normally hate references to my size since I am small for my age.
Somehow, George calling me "little one" made me feel good, wanted,
protected.  I didn't completely understand what he meant, but while we
were having sex, I was enjoying his roughness as much as now I was
enjoying his tenderness.  I knew one thing for sure, though.  I pushed
even closer.

"My johnny stick wants to play again tomorrow.  And you know what else?"

"What?"

"My hole wants you in it," I said.  "Not just your fingers but your cock
as well."

"Too big.  I'd hurt you."

"We'll see," I said.

Silence.  Darkness.  Quiet breathing.

"George," softly whispered.

"What, babe?" barely breathed back.

"I love you."


DANNY'S ESCAPE
CHAPTER 6

I slept nestled in the bends and crooks of the big man's body until
bright sunlight in my eyes and a wet sensation on my cock awakened me.
George had my penis in his mouth and was sucking and slurping at it
intently.  When I shifted my body to be able to get a better look at
what he was doing, he let the stiff little organ slip from his mouth and
caught it in his hand.

"You're sure a sound sleeper," he said.  "Your friend here has been
awake a good ten minutes all ready.  A very good ten minutes I might
say."

He slipped the hard, red stiff back into his mouth and began sucking
hard up and down the length of it.  I knew what I wanted at that moment
and it wasn't to have my dick sucked.

"Please fuck me George," I pleaded.

"I'm way too big for you, honey," he countered, my cock slurring the
words.  "I'd hurt you if I tried."

"Come on.  I've had big things up there.  Believe it or not, I've had
carrots up my butt before and they didn't hurt.  You won't be much
bigger."

"I don't want to hurt you.  I could rip your ass open if you're not
ready."

I pulled away from him suddenly.

"Then leave me alone," I cried.  "You want to have it your way and not
do what I want.  You're a motherfucking cocksucker."

The last words were lost in his hand which covered my mouth.  I tried to
bite him to get him to let me loose.

"If you're so goddamned determined to get your booty broken, then I'll
try to do it," George said.  "But please tell me if it hurts too much."

I relaxed and fell to the bed.  George spent the next ten minutes
licking at my balls and then my hole.  I could feel the muscle tighten
at the first the tongue's first touch.  Then it relaxed.  I could feel
his tongue digging farther and farther in my ass, the channel getting
wet and slippery.  He pulled my legs way up to my chest as he licked.  I
was lost in dreams of huge horse cocks pushing at my hole when he pulled
away.  I watched as he pulled a small overnight satchel from the small
closet in the roomette.  I wasn't able to see what he had in the bag,
but he brought a tube back to the berth with him.

George squeezed a liberal amount of the cream from the tube onto my
hole.  He massaged it slowly in circles into my ass then spread another
large amount on his cock.  Although George was very excited as shown by
his hard, dripping machine, he proceeded slowly with my ass.  His
breathing was deep and even.

"When I tell you, push out like you're taking a dump," he instructed.

My hole felt loose and relaxed, ready to accept anything George might
shove up it until it felt the engorged head of his cock.  Abruptly it
tightened.

"Okay, babe," he whispered, "push your guts out."

I pushed out as he pushed in.  Unfortunately, my hole had shut down
completely.  I farted once and then the gate was closed.  He forced the
head in as far as it would go, but I felt like he had put a burning
stick to my hole.  I yelled unintentionally, causing him to pull out
immediately.

"I told you it wouldn't work.  I'm not going to rip you up.  You mean to
much to me."  I heard the words through a red haze of nausea and pain.
I agreed with him.  "We can work on it, babe.  It'll take a while.  But
we can work on it"

"Let me suck you, then," I asked as soon as my stomach stopped churning.

I took his prick and sucked on the head, tasting the slight flavor of my
hole on it.  He was standing by the berth I was sitting on.  It was
easier for me to take his tool this way and I sucked it in as far as it
would go without gagging.  While I sucked, he pulled on my prick.  I was
soon shooting spurt after spurt of jiz onto my belly.  The more I shot,
the harder I sucked so that by the time I was finished cumming, George
was shooting his own bitter load down my throat.

When we were done, we went back into the berth to cuddle a little bit
longer.

We were roused from our cuddling by the porter passing in the hall
outside our room calling out the last call for breakfast.  I'd forgotten
all about eating food with the other type of eating I'd been doing, but
when I heard the word "breakfast", I realized how hungry I was.  I
jumped out of bed, pulling the covers with me as I went.

I watched as a strand of cum stretched from my piss slit to the puddle
on my belly then broke as my limp wiener flopped about.

"Hurry up, we'll miss out on breakfast," I said pulling on my T-shirt.
It might seem funny that with all that I'd done with George, I was still
embarrassed to have him see my jockeys.  I'd worn them for several days
and they were pretty well stained in the butt.  I pulled them on before
he could see the brown skid marks.

I shook him.  "Hey wake up, ding bat.  We'll miss breakfast."

He pulled the covers up around his head and grunted at me, "Huh?  Are
you hungry?"

"Starved.  Hurry up," I nagged, loosing my sense of humor.

George slid out of bed, his beautiful piece of man meat swinging
invitingly at its nearly full length but not yet hard.

"All that cock sucking really can take it out of a guy, can't it?" he
asked.  "Here eat this.  It should hold you for awhile."

"Stop fucking around," I snarled.  "If you don't get dressed we won't
eat.  Food.  I eat you later."

"You're incorrigible.


There was a short line of folks waiting to be seated when we got to the
dining car.  Shortly after we got there, the family who had sat next to
me on the first day of my trip came in.  The mother smiled at me so I
guess she remembered seeing me although I hadn't been back to the seat
for a long time.

The two twins were brattier than before if that was possible.  The older
boy was quiet and stand-offish.  I tried not to stare, but it was
difficult not to.  He had changed his clothes since I'd first seen him
(boy I'd love to have seen that.)  He was perfectly neat and turned out.
There wasn't a dark hair out of place nor a wrinkle in his O.P. shorts
or shirt.  The short, shorts were tight and accentuated his round,
little boy buns.

He stood leaning against the wall reading a book.  (Every time I saw him
he seemed to have his nose in a book.  I guess he'd never notice me.)
He was older than I first thought but, like me, small for his age.  My
guess was that he was twelve.  And stuck up by the looks of him.  I love
to have him stuck up me, though.

A waiter came to seat us just about the time I was about to start
drooling.  I'd found out the first night we ate that people share tables
on the train but we got one to ourselves for the time being.  George sat
across from me.

"Careful, Danny," he whispered, "you're staring.  He is cute.  Isn't
he."

As luck would have it, the family was brought to the table across from
us.  There were two seats there which the mother and the little boy sat
at.  The little girl and the boy of my current dreams sat at our table.
I lost my appetite and all my meager social skills.  I sat staring at
the cup of hot chocolate in front of.  George was in the middle of a
conversation with the woman.  I could hear his voice but was intent on
not touching the bare, silken skin of the leg next to me.

As our breakfast got on I got more comfortable.  Troy, what a wonderful
name, wasn't stuck up at all.  He was just shy.  I was actually talking
to him.

George suggested that he come back to the club car during the day since
we spent most of our time there.  Troy seemed excited by the idea and
his mother told George that she was glad to see him make friends so
quickly since he usually didn't make friends easily.  He seemed
uncomfortable by the comment, but I changed subjects quickly like I
hadn't heard it.

George and I went to the club car after breakfast.  He read a book and I
stared at the pages of a magazine.  Every time someone came in, my head
would swing up to see if it was Troy.  After two hours of disappointment
I was ready to give up.  Then the door opened and he entered the car,
frowning slightly as he looked around.  When he caught my eye, his face
lit up with a gorgeous, full mouthed, large teeth smile.  I guess he
liked me.

We spent several hours talking and playing cards.  George kept us well
supplied with sodas. as happens with kids our age, the topic got around,
in hushed tones, to sex.

Troy had, he told me, a couple of magazines which his older cousin in
Toledo had given him.  He had them with him and we could look at them if
we had a place to go where we wouldn't be caught.  Of course I did.  I
told George that we were going back to the room to listen to my tape
player.  He must have known what was going on since I didn't have a tape
player.

I had expected something like Playboy, but the magazines troy pulled out
of the backpack when we entered the room made Playboy look like a prayer
book.  They were hot.  We began by looking at them together, commenting
on the women and what was happening in the pictures.  Midway through the
first book Troy started making comments about the cocksucking the women
were doing and how it looked like fun.  In fact, I felt he was paying a
lot of attention to the cocks in general, commenting on their size and
shapes as much as he was with the women's pussies.

"You ever been in a circle jerk?"  I asked as casually as I could
muster.  Troy's look told me he didn't have the foggiest notion what I
was talking about.

"Didn't you and your friends ever beat your meats together?  You know,
jack off, masturbate."  The light came on in his eyes.

"Well, I don't have that many friends," he said, "I can't imagine any of
them doing it."

"My buddies and I do it all the time," I lied.  I was used by the kids
at school but never was a part of anything.  "We even sometimes suck
each other.  Wanna try it?  I mean jacking off."

"I don't know.  I am real hot.  I've just never done it with anyone
before."

":There's got to be a first time," I said.  "You don't have to but these
pictures are making me so hot that if I don't take care of myself I'll
burst."

I pulled my pants down in one bold move, making sure the underwear was
hidden inside.  My cock was rock hard, as much from the prospect of
having Troy see it as from the pictures I'd seen.  I watched him as he
watched me.  He looked interested.  I picked up the magazine and began
pulling on myself.

"Promise you won't tell," Troy squeaked.

"No way.  I wouldn't tell anybody."

He took a deep breath and pulled down his shorts.  A little stiff hard
on popped out.  He began pinching it and rubbing it with two fingers.  I
gave up any pretense of looking at the pornography.  We were lying cross
ways on the berth, side by side.  I spit on my hand and reached over to
take his penis.

He shuddered at my touch but didn't pull away.

"Let me help you out," I whispered.

I hadn't planned what I was going to do, but each step could have
produced a rejection, or worse, from Troy.  I jerked on him for a few
minutes then took the little sausage in my lips.  He was mine.  I could
tell.  He was a little faggot just like me and he loved what was
happening to him.  While I sucked, he started to pull on my cock with
his hand.  That was all I could take.  I squirted my load on his hand
and chest, just missing the shirt he'd pulled up around his chest.

He kept pulling on me even though I'd finished cumming.  The jiz on his
hand was frothy from his action.  The prick in my mouth was ready and
began its rhythmic, dry spasms.  I doubted if he'd ever shot by the size
and development of his pricklet.  He dropped my cock from his hand when
he started his orgasm.  When he was done I let the little darling slip
from my lips.

He lay on his back gasping for several minutes then finally squeaked
out, "What happened?"

"Haven't you ever cum before?"  I asked.

"I'm too young.  When I play with myself I just get hard.  That never
happened before.  Am I okay?"  He seemed bewildered.

"Don't worry, Troy.  You're fine.  In fact, you're great.  Did you like
it?"

"Yeah.  It was great.  I want to do it again."  He began pulling on his
limp dick.

"Doesn't it hurt?"  I asked.

"Little.  But the other felt so good, who cares."

It took about five minutes till he was hard again.  I started to swell
up watching him.  I took off my clothes and pulled his shirt then his
pants off.  I pulled the jockeys out.  They were as bad as mine.

"Want to try something different?"  I asked him.

"You mean you wont suck me?"

"Sure I will if you want.  But there's something else you might want to
do."  If I couldn't get George's huge cock in me, maybe I could get
Troy's little one in.

"You want to pretend like I'm a girl and fuck me," I asked.  I get the
feeling that Troy is smart without being to sharp.

"Huh?  What do you mean?" he said.

"You know.  Put your wick up my ass."

"You do that?"

"Not yet, but you can be the first if you want, Troy.  I'd like to try
it.  How about you?"

Troy's prick had answered for him.  It was steel hard again.

I sucked on it to get it wet then bent over the bed.

"Spit on my hole," I directed, "then put your cock head right at it.
Push it on in and fuck me like I'm one of the girls in the magazine."

I could feel the wet wad off spit hit my cheek.

"Shit.  I missed."

"Move closer.  It won't bite you."

The next wad hit the crack a little above my hole.  Without
encouragement, Troy rubbed it down where it was needed.  I could feel
the sharp little point of his bare cockhead at my hole then the sudden
heat of him pushing it in.  Jeremey hadn't ever been able to get his in
and keep it up, but Troy got in with no trouble.  He pushed in until his
abdomen was flush against my butt.  The prick burned a little and hurt,
I think more from George's attempted entry of the morning than what Troy
was doing.

"What do I do now?" he asked.

"Pull it out a little then push it back in," I encouraged him.  "Fuck me
like I a girl with a pussy."

"I like you as a boy," he said as he began to do as he was told.

His dick was too small to hit the magic button that George's fingers had
pushed but the little bit of stretching and the idea of this gorgeous
boy pumping his meat in me got me to the edge fast.

"I'm cumming," I moaned as he pumped harder and harder.  I shot my jiz
on the berth, not caring if I did.  Unfortunately, Troy took a lot
longer to have his orgasm.  He kept pushing his sharp little rod in and
out of me until I felt I would lose control of my ass.  Finally, I could
feel his body stiffen as his orgasm began.  I couldn't feel anything
inside me but he was shivering and jerking on the outside.  When he'd
finished he pulled out with a plop.  I punctuated his withdrawal with a
loud, smelly fart.

We both began laughing and rolling around on the bed.

"You got to do that to me," he said through the tears of his laughter.

"You'd let me?"

"Sure.  You're a good buddy.  I want to be good to you, too.  You don't
think its funny what I said?"

"What did you say?"  I asked.

"About liking you as a boy.  It sounds kinda funny, you know."  Troy was
reverting to shy again.


I jumped on his chest, my weak cock just inches from his lips.

"Listen you little twerp," I snarled, "I like boys a lot.  I
particularly like you and as soon as my friend here recuperates, I'm
gonna shove it down your throat and up your ass.  At the same time if I
can figure out how."

Again we started to laugh.  Troy took the tip of my shriveled dick and
licked the last drops of semen off.

"I like you, too," he said.  "Maybe we can be friends when we get back
home to San Francisco."

The mention of San Francisco woke me up from a day long dream I'd been
living.  I wasn't going to be on this train forever.  What was I going
to do when it pulled into Oakland?


DANNY'S ESCAPE
CHAPTER 7

Troy lay sideways asleep on the bed, curled up like a little kid.  He
had dozed off quickly, tired by all of our activity.  His breath was
shallow and even.  He looked innocent in spite of, or maybe because of,
the bare, round bottom he exposed.  I felt a twinge of jealousy.  He
seemed so serene and here I was starting to worry about where I was
going to be living in the next few days.

The time I had been spending with George seemed like a dream to me.  I
guess I hadn't wanted to look at the reality that was going to present
itself in Oakland.  I knew I couldn't go to Jeremy's.  If my folks were
looking for me, that's one of the first places they would look.  I might
not even be able to see him even as close as I'd be.

I was shaken from my thoughts and Troy from his sleep by a knock on the
door.

Troy started searching frantically for his pants and began to pull them
on inside out then backwards in his rush to cover up.  It was funny to
see him so disorganized.  I had to laugh.

"Who is it?"  I called out.

Tory was pantomiming to me for me to get my pants on.  He mouthed the
words, "It might be your dad."  I was sure it was.

"It's me, Danny.  Troy's mother wants him back in their seats in a few
minutes.  I'll see you back in the lounge."

"Okay, dad," I called back.  The words came so easily that they
surprised me.  Maybe it had been Troy's pantomime that had put the idea
in my head.  I wonder how George felt about them if he'd heard them.  I
wasn't stupid.  I knew how I felt about him, but I didn't really know
how he felt about me.  I might just be a convenient fuck along the way
to Oakland.  I wouldn't push things.  Not right then.

"Wow," sighed Troy, pulling on his sneaker, "that was close.  What if he
had come in?  He would have killed us."

"My dad's cool," I answered.  "He doesn't mind me doing this kind of
stuff."

"Really?  That's neat."

"Would yours mind?"  I asked.

"My dad died a long time ago.  Shortly after the twins were born."

We talked about parents as I got dressed, me making up a string of lies
about George and how my mother had died along time ago, too.  I took my
cues from Troy.  I couldn't feel too sorry for him since I would
certainly be better off if my real folks had died.  Thinking it made me
realize that I didn't want them dead.  I kind of missed them as a matter
of fact.  I didn't want to go back, though.

I liked the family I'd invented around me and George.  The seed had been
planted.  I hoped to make it grow.

We had to pass through the club car on Troy's way back to his seat so I
said good-bye to him there.  George told me that the six of us were
going to have dinner together and that Troy's mom said it would be okay
for him to spend the evening with us in the club car.  We both liked
that idea, and even though we were going to see each other in an hour at
dinner, we began talking about our plans for the next day.

"Do you want to listen to your radio again, Danny?"  Troy asked.

"Sure.  Sounds like a lot of fun," I answered, trying hard not to
giggle.  Troy was biting back laughter as well.  "Is that okay with you,
dad?"

I used the word deliberately to see what reaction from George I would
get.  I didn't get any.  It was like he was playing along with my game
with Troy.

"Fine with me, Danny.  I'm glad you've found someone your own age to
spend some time with."

I had an almost uncontrollable urge to kiss Troy when he left.  I
controlled it.

When Troy was gone I sat down beside George.  He looked at me straight
in the eye.

"You look like someone who just swallowed the canary," he said.

"That's not all I swallowed," I giggled.

"You don't have to tell me about it, kid.  I am glad you've found
someone you like your own age.  Actually, it looks like more than just
"like.'"

"He's a neat kid.  Real straight.  Well, not straight, but he doesn't
know too much."

George smiled, "You'll make a good teacher.  If there were some way to
pull it off, I'd let him and you have the room for the night.  His
mother wouldn't go for it, I'm sure."

"That's a sweet offer," I told him, "but you are mine tonight.  I have
plans for us."

"Anything I should know?"

I wiggled my butt in response.

"Sorry, kid, don't count on too much.  I'll try to make it enjoyable ,
but I won't promise anything."

The six of us had dinner then spent some time together in the club car.
George spent most of the time talking to Troy's mother.  I watched them
as Troy and I played cards, wondering what it would be like to have the
two of them for parents.  They liked each other or at least got along
well with each other..  I guess I started to day dream because Troy had
to call me back to the game we were playing.

We all parted company fairly late that night.  The twins had actually
fallen asleep, it was so late.  George and I went to the room and
started undressing.

"You and Troy's mother seem to like each other," I said.

"Yes, she's a very nice woman, Danny."  George wasn't looking in my
direction so I couldn't tell how his face looked.

"How much do you like her?"

George looked at me, half a frown on his face.  "Tell me this first," he
said, "would like to live with Troy?"

"I guess so.  I haven't given it a whole lot of thought."

"But you have thought about it.  Right?"

"Yeah," I answered, pulling off my pants slowly.  I'd looked forward to
having sex with George this evening all day but at that moment didn't
feel to much like it.

"Well, babe, I like Janice.  She's sophisticated, urbane, witty and very
pretty.  There's only one problem."

"What?"

"I'm gay.  You're a kid.  If you're like a lot of the kids I've known,
you are enamored of sex.  Me, I like men.  As much as I think I could
like Janice, I could never be 'serious' about her.  Sorry to disappoint
you."

I looked at him without answering for very long.  He took the back of my
neck in his big hand.

"There's something else, too, isn't there, Danny?  Want to talk about it
now?"

I shook my head.

"Let's have sex," I answered.  "I'm gay too, you know, and I want you to
fuck me."

George pulled his underpants off and let his big cock flop about.

"We better talk tomorrow, then," he said.  "We pull into Oakland early
the next day and we've got stuff to discuss."

The last of his words trailed off as I got on my knees, took his cock in
my mouth and started sucking it to hardness.  It woke up quickly and
jutted in my face when I let it drop from my mouth.

"I want to try again.  Put it in me," I whined at him.

"It'll rip you up, kid," George replied.  "I've got something else
though for you to try."

George went to the small closet and pulled out the satchel he had stored
in there.  It was the one he'd gotten the lubricant from the night
before.

"This is something I never check through," he said, opening it.  "I'd
hate to have these things misplaced."

He opened it to reveal a collection of what had to be sex toys.  There
were five rubber penises.  I picked up the smallest one.  It was about
the same size as Troy when he was fully hard.  I picked up each one in
succession.  The next size up was about my size but a little bit longer.
There was one about normal adult size, maybe five inches long by an inch
and a half across.  The next one was eight by two inches.  The last one
was huge.  I couldn't imagine anyone using it for anything.  It must
have been twelve inches by two or three.  I held it up to my crotch.  It
had a hole all the way through its length as did all of them.

"Ready for me, George?"  I joked.

"That's one of my favorites although it takes some time to work up to
it."

"You really put it in?"  I gasped.

"Yeah.  This is the one I have in mind for you," he said and picked up
the five inch one.  "It'll hurt a little, but I'm willing to bet you'll
like it."

What's some of this other stuff?"  I asked.  I pulled out what I can
only describe as being shaped like a pink rubber Christmas tree.  There
were several sizes of this object.

"That's a butt plug," George said.  He picked up a tiny leather harness.
"And this is a ball stretcher and cock ring."  He pulled my balls down
as far as they would stretch and snapped it around them. he snapped the
ring around the base of my penis.  On a grown man, the harness might
have been tight but it was fairly loose on me; except for the
stretching, it wasn't at all uncomfortable.

The final item in the bag other than tubes of lotion and creams was a
red rubber bag with a piece of tubing attached.  I pulled it out and
held it up.

"I know what this is," I said.  "I used to have to get them when I was a
kid.  Only I forget what they're called.  Do you use it?""

"It's an enema.  I find them very enjoyable at times.  That's why the
dildoes have the holes in them so that I can use them as part of the
enema."

I asked him, "Want to try it on me tonight?"

"That would be fine except what I put in has to come out and some times
it comes out unexpectedly.  Maybe when we're back home if you're still
interested."

"Yeah.  I'll be interested."  That was the first time George had
mentioned being back home with him.  There was hope.

George had me lie on my back across the berth.  He began by working on
my cock with his mouth.  He pulled on the ball stretcher during the
sucking, causing me some very enjoyable pain.  Even distracted like
this, I could feel him tickling my hole with a greasy finger.  He rubbed
the lubricant around and on my hole.  He put the tip of the tube to the
sphincter and pushed it in a quarter of an inch then squeezed a glob
into the channel.

He pulled out the tube and pushed a finger as far in as the tube's tip
had been.  A sudden suck on my rampant prick and a twist on my balls
made me arch upward, and falling back to the bed, I impaled my ass on
the full length of George's stabbing finger.

The digit slipped in easily and spread the slippery goop around my
innards.  My asshole tingled and my chute blazed, yearned to be filled.
I didn't want George's small finger inside me.  My body ached to be
stuffed with him, to be stuffed with as much of him as I could hold.

George pulled his finger out and leaned as close to my ear as he could
get.

"This is me, baby," he whispered, placing the tip of the dildo at my
hole.  "I'll get you ready for the real thing.  Just have patience.  In
a few days this will be me.  Until then let this," pushing the medium
sized, rubber cock's head into the hole, "be me."  With the final word,
George shoved the surrogate cock all the way into my tunnel.  He pulled
and pushed and twisted it.  In concert he pulled and twisted and pushed
my balls.

His mouth attacked my cock again, plunging along its full length until
his lips were touching my soft, straight, dark pubic hair.  I was being
wracked in my ass by the fake cock while my own cock was being orally
abused.  George pivoted around without missing a beat with either his
hand or his mouth so that his own stiff monster was poking at my lips.
In this way I was introduced to the joys of mutual cocksucking.

The action of the dildo in my ass had brought me to the point of
exploding when George crammed his meat down into my throat.  He must
have known I was a step away from being all the way gone because he took
my scrotum with his free hand and twisted it as hard as he could.  A
wave of nausea hit me, and I let out a yelp which was smothered by the
plunge of his cockhead into the back of my mouth.

He used his mouth on my shrunken stick to warm it again, to pull it to
full stand and swell it till it became a part of his wet mouth.  He went
through this cycle three more times:  bringing me to the edge of my
orgasm then pulling me back from the edge with pain and discomfort.

Halfway through, he pulled the dildo out, leaving an emptiness in its
place, but only for a moment.  He replaced the medium cock with the next
larger one, barely missing a beat with it as he jammed it through my
hole.  This intrusion brought more pain than pleasure the first time it
happened to me.  Not only was my hole stretched farther than it had been
before, I could feel the walls of my intestines forced open by the girth
of the rubber dick.  My ass felt pin pricks all around its exterior and
a wrenching need to crap inside.

George's thrust was relentless.  I couldn't complain around the fleshy
tube in my mouth and while half of me was balanced between nausea and
anal eruption,. the other half was dancing around the rim of the most
fantastic sexual explosion I had known.

I could feel his salty, bitter warmth splatter into my throat.  He
withdrew, trailing large splashes of jism along my tongue as he did,
then shot across my face.  My throat didn't have a chance to close back
down before he shoved his cock back into it, squirting what seemed like
a never ending stream of cum into my stomach.'

The pitch of the pounding my ass took increased while he came.  Flames
were tearing at my hole, his teeth were ripping at my dick, My balls
were twisted beyond the point of pain.  My own semen slid in long
strands out of my penis and into George's gullet.  I was being turned
inside out through my cock, shattered through my rectum.  George pumped
my ass three more times after I finished my spasms then yanked the phony
cock from my asshole.

I lay panting, lost in a dark haze for several minutes.  George was
pulling my underwear on when I started to focus on the reality around
me.  He put a wad of tissue at my ass and pulled the pants up to hold it
in place.

"You may leak or smear a little, so don't worry.  There was just a
little blood.  Now you probably see why I didn't want to fuck you with
my own dick yet.  It'll hurt more when I do unless I get you used to it.
Son, though.  Maybe by the end of the week."

The end of the week!  I just had the best fuck of my life and the man
who had made it happen was talking about actually putting his own
monster cock in me by the end of the week.  Things were going to work
out great.  I was sure.

We cuddled under the covers in the darkness.  George's breath was warm
and even against my forehead.

"Good night, Danny," he hummed into my ear.

"Good night," I whispered back, a brief moment passed like a minute,
"dad."

George's body stiffened suddenly and his breath stopped for a moment.

I was sure.


DANNY'S ESCAPE
CHAPTER 8

I woke up with George kneeling over me, his firm cock swinging in my
face.  My bladder was full, and my rod was sticking straight up in the
air.  My asshole ached slightly from the abuse it had taken the night
before, but I was ready for more, pain or no.  I figured that George was
ready to go again, sticking his meat in my face so that I could suck it.

I was wrong but didn't know it.

I took the tip of the man's cock between my lips and began playing with
its underside with my tongue.  George took my head in his hands and
pulled it away from his cock.  I looked at him with what must have been
a confused look.

"I have something else in mind for now," George told me.  "Hold my prick
in the front of your mouth but don't suck or play with it.  I don't want
a hard-on yet."

I didn't know what he was planning, but I did as he said.  I was going
to follow his every command for the rest of the trip.  I was going to be
his puppy dog and lick his feet if it meant I could live with him.  I
kept getting different messages from him.  Sometimes he'd talk about us
being together.  At other times, like the night before, he'd stiffen and
clam up when I made similar suggestions.  He sure as hell didn't like my
calling him "dad."

George pulled me to a seated position and laid the head of his thick
flesh tube in my mouth.  He held my head firmly in place.  Thirty
seconds passed like this, my not being sure what to expect.  I figured
he'd plunge his cock down my throat suddenly.

Instead I was shocked to feel the salty, bitter warmth start to gurgle
into my mouth.  He was pissing in my mouth.  I was surprised by it but
very pleasantly.  I'd drunk my own pee many time, sometimes lying in the
tub and pissing directly in my mouth.  I'd wanted to have Jeremy do it
but was always afraid that it sounded too weird.  Now this grown man was
sending his stream down my throat.

I swallowed as fast as I could, but the dick was pouring out the piss
faster than I could swallow.  Some of the yellow liquid drooled from my
lips and, when I choked once, poured from my nose.  George pinched his
pecker to stop the flow and let me swallow what I had in my mouth.

"Can't have you wet the bed, little piss face," he said.

I was on the verge of doing so because my own bladder was full to the
brim.  I couldn't help myself.  First a couple of short squirts then a
steady stream of piss arched out of my penis and spattered into my lap
and between my legs onto the bed.

George dove onto my rod before too much could pour out and swallowed
draught after draught of piss.  It felt like he was sucking the juice
out and when I stopped peeing, he sucked on my cock violently.

"You wet the bed," he snarled meanly at me.  All the years of being
punished and derided over being a bed wetter came back to me.  I started
to sob.

"I'm sorry," I pleaded, "please don't hate me.  I can't help it.  I
haven't done it much lately."

George looked as stunned as I felt.  He grabbed me in both of his arms
and held me to him as closely as he could.

He cooed in my ear, "I'm sorry, baby.  I was only playing a game.  I had
no idea.  I'm not mad at you.  I started the game.  I didn't mean to
upset you.  That's what some of the beatings were for.  Wasn't it?"

I snorted an answer at him which meant "yes."  He continued to rock me
in his arms.

"I wouldn't have said that if I knew you had problems with wetting the
bed.  These last few nights you've been dry including last night.  I
made you pee this time.  The bed's not very wet, so don't worry about
it.  Anyway, the railroad uses plastic sheets on the bottom."

"I'm used to those," I said.  I wiped the remaining tears from my eyes
and the snot from my nose.  "I liked what you did to me.  Your piss
tasted good."

"I've got some more if you want it."

"Yeah.  Sounds great."  I dived for the man's penis and held it quietly
in my mouth as I'd done earlier.  The flow started slowly then burst
suddenly into the back of my throat.  I could smell the aroma as he
filled my mouth.

"Don't worry about wetting the sheets," George told me.  "They'll dry by
the evening and I'll enjoy lying on them.  Just make sure you keep the
covers on the bed when Troy is here."

I swallowed what I could and let the rest stream off my chin.  I began
pulling on my pecker as I was drinking the pungent urine.  The stream
slowed to a dribble then stopped but George kept his cock in place,
alternately jacking on it and pushing it in my mouth.  He started to cum
and shot several wads down my throat then pulled out and squirted the
sticky goo on my face and into my hair.

His orgasm started me on mine.  I shot streams of thin, nearly clear
spunk onto my belly.  When I finished, George licked most of it off.  He
ended the session my pushing his tongue into my mouth.  I could taste my
own urine in his mouth and I know he could taste his own in mine.

We cleaned up, straightened the bed clothes and went to breakfast.
Ahead of me was a session with Troy and another one with George this
evening, I hoped.  I also knew that George would want to talk about what
lay ahead of me.  That part of the day I didn't look forward to.

I hoped that Troy would be in the dining car when we had breakfast, but
he wasn't there.  He didn't come to the club car either for most of the
morning.  I began to think he didn't want to get back together with me.
Maybe having slept on what went between us made him feel that it was
wrong.  I was disappointed, anxious and angry.  George must have sensed
it.

"You wondering where your friend is?" he asked me.

"A little," I lied in reply.

"Do you think he's turned off by the stuff we did?"  I asked after a
leaden silence.

"Well, I'm sure what you did although I have a general idea.  He
didn't seem turned off last night at dinner.  In fact, I'd say he was in
love with you."

I smirked at him in a way that said 'sure' but felt excited by the idea.

"Would you ever want to join in?"

George looked thoughtfully then said, "Love to.  But he'd probably yell
for his mom."

"I'm not so sure about it," I said.  "I think he'd dig a three way.  I
know I would.  I never done it.  Maybe we can work something out.  That
is if he wants to do anything with me at all."

"Go check," George suggested.  "He may be waiting for you."

Sucking up my courage, I did as the man suggested.  Troy was in his seat
when I got to the car his family was in.  When he saw me, he bounced out
of his seat and bounded over to me.  He was obviously excited about
seeing me.  He explained that his mother was afraid that he would be
"imposing" if he went to the club car so he was hoping I'd come by to
ask him.  When I didn't show up for a long time, Troy was worried that I
was upset about what happened.

"No way, turkey face," I said.  "I'm looking forward to more fun today
if you are."

"You bet!  Let me tell my mom."

His mother told Troy that he had to be back by five o'clock.  We decided
to go right to the roomette.  I gave him the key.  I stopped to talk to
George on the way and I didn't want Troy to hear my plans with the man.

I hadn't been away from the room very long, but when I got there, Troy
was lying on the bed, every stitch of clothing off his body, his little,
stiff sticking straight up from his body.

"Starting without me?"  I asked.  I wanted something special from the
boy today but was willing to take my time.  I went to the berth and
started tickling the tiny hard-on.  I slipped it in my mouth and sucked
on it while I stripped off my pants and let my hard-on fall out.

"Let me suck you," Troy whispered.

"Okay, but I want to do something else today," I said.

"Umph?" he asked, my cockhead in his mouth and sliding down to his
throat.

"I want to try to fuck you like you did to me.  You liked it when you
did it, didn't you."

He pulled my prick out of his mouth long enough to answer, "I told you I
wanted it."

I swung around so that I straddled his head and we could suck each other
at the same time.  I pulled his legs up and spread his ass cheeks.  His
red ring was flecked lightly with brown and winked at me when I pulled
the white cheeks apart.  I started playing with the hole while I sucked
on the little rod.  I was able to slip the tip of my finger in as far as
the first knuckle before the muscle tightened.  When he relaxed I pulled
my finger out, dropped his dick from my mouth and began lapping at the
wrinkled orifice.

Troy wriggled his ass in response to the touch of my tongue, trying to
push his hole further down on my tongue.  It was an awkward position,
but I managed to slick the hole and loosen it sufficiently to get the
tip of my tongue into his shit tube.  Troy was moaning in ecstasy and
was ready for me to try to put something into him.  I was hella ready to
do it.

I rolled off the bed, pulled the boy's legs over the edge, spit on the
inflamed hole and coughed loudly.  I put the tip of my screaming hard-on
at the doorway which awaited it and pushed in slowly but steadily.  Troy
sucked in breath with my stretching of his asshole.  The head snapped in
then the sphincter tightened around my meat.

"Hold on a minute," Troy barely breathed.

Then there came a voice from behind us, a voice in the doorway.

"Good morning, boys.  It looks like I'm interrupting something."

George had appeared exactly as planned.


DANNY'S ESCAPE
CHAPTER 9

Troy jerked up at the sound of George's voice, stretching my penis as he
did so, but his ass had such a tight hold on me that it wasn't about to
let go.

"Sorry to butt in," George said, his voice smooth and calm but his eyes
telegraphing excitement, "but I had to get my brief case."

Troy gawked at the man dumb founded, his legs still spread to
accommodate my entry.  He started to sputter something which, had it
been intelligible, might have been an excuse or explanation.  George
didn't let him get far in his speech.

"Don't worry about what you're doing.  I'm just sorry I barged in.
Danny told me that you were going to go back to your seat and I thought
I'd missed seeing you two pass through when I went to the head.  I came
here to get some stuff and it seems like I've walked in at a bad time.
Or maybe a good one."

Troy had lost the pallor that George's first entrance had produced.  He
was now bright red.

"You won't tell my mom?" he stuttered.

"Why should I?"  George answered.  "You both look like you're enjoying
yourselves.  Danny told me how much he likes you, and I can see why."

Troy may have been surprised by what had occurred, but I wasn't.  Sex
was not his top priority at that moment.  It was mine, though.  I began
pushing my trapped cock into the tight hole slowly.  Troy didn't notice
at first.  His body began to respond by stiffening slightly at my push,
but the feeling hadn't registered in his brain.  I was able to push my
prick all the way to its base, my pubic hair brushing Troy's cheeks.  I
pulled out to the tip then rammed the fucker home.  Troy jerked at the
shove.

"Wanna help me, George?"  I growled, my voice thick.

"He's your dad," Troy cried.

"Not really," I answered, filling the boy in briefly on George and my
relationship, leaving out the part about me really loving the man but
him not feeling the same way about me.

"George is a great fucker," I continued.  "I'd like him to join in."  By
this time I was fucking Troy steadily and his little penis had hardened
and was sticking it vermilion head straight up.  "How would you like him
to suck you while I'm fucking you?"

Through deep breaths of pleasure and discomfort Troy could rasp, "Yeah,
go ahead.  Do it."

George's hand was at the young boy's cock, gently stroking it with the
very tips of his fingers.  A dew drop of clear liquid formed at the
cock's tip which the man lapped off.  Troy was squirming his ass about
the berth, trying to force me deeper and trying at the same time to push
his cockhead into George's mouth.  George let the small acorn rub
against his lips then popped it into his mouth.  Troy moaned in
excitement and pleasure.

I was undressing George while he sucked on Troy until he was as naked as
we were.  His cock was rock hard and drooling.  Seeing him so excited
increased my horniness but also made me more than a little jealous.
Maybe I would lose this man to Troy.  Lose him!  HELL, I didn't even
have him so how could I lose him.  I gave Troy a few really hard jabs.
He seemed to love it.

"Ever seen a cock that big?"  I asked him.

Troy lifted his head to look at George's meat.

"Uhn, uh," was all he could reply.

"Well, when I'm finished with you, he's going to put it to me."

"But," George started to say, surprised, I guess, at my decision.  I
glared at him so that he stopped.

The thought of being fucked, finally getting a real cock into my
asshole, and it being George's, lifted me to a fever pitch.  I pushed
and pulled my prick until Troy's ass was burning.  I was on the edge of
an orgasm, but I wanted to hold on as long as I could.  George sucked
the tiny cock so vehemently that a pool of spittle had formed at its
base.  Troy was out of his mind in pleasure.

Then his ass hole started to squeeze my cock and he started humping his
ass up off the bed and his cock into George's mouth.  This was no
ordinary orgasm.  The boy was exploding, real hot jiz explosions, into
George's mouth.  When he finished he fell to the berth and I pulled my
cock out, not wanting to come yet.

Froth lay on George's lips and I could see string of cum in his open
mouth.  He leaned over to my face and whispered, "This is rightfully
yours," and thrust his tongue into my mouth, injecting the boy's sweet
jizzom into me as he did.

"Fuck me now," I pleaded.  The man was intoxicated.  He pushed me down
so that I lay across the belly of the boy I'd just fucked.

I heard him spit:  once, twice, three times, the final time spattering
against my ass.  Then the punch, the gut wrenching punch of his prick
head at my hole, forcing it open, tearing at the tight muscles.  Heat
seared through my ass and up to my brain.  I wanted to yell but slid
Troy's soft prick into my mouth instead, sucking the last of his first
ejaculation off it.  I wanted him to stop, to pull out but wanted, also,
for him never to stop.  The head was in.  My hole stretched more to
accept the burden of his bulk.  I could feel a warm moistness at the
entry.  I knew it was blood.  I didn't mind if I bled to death for this
man I loved.  For a minute, an hour, a lifetime, I don't know how long
he persisted, he fucked my bloody ass, the sight of the blood inflaming
his passion.

Troy had rolled out from under me and watched the scene before him.  He
had one hand on my penis, jacking it in rhythm with George's savage
fucking.  His other hand was jerking on his own once again stiff prick.
Then there was warmth and moisture inside me, not blood, but George's
warmth.  George's moisture.  George's semen.

When his orgasm had spent itself, George fell against me in a heap, his
face next to my head.  I could feel the huge cock inside me starting to
shrink.  I could feel the man's heavy breath against me.  I could feel
the softened organ slip out.

Did I hear what I thought I heard?  Did I hear those words I craved so
badly?  Did he really tell me in a soft, low voice, "I love you?"

Troy's prick seemed to scream to be released from its hardness, its
little red head stretching painfully out from his belly.  My own cock
ached from its fullness and my ass begged for more punishment.  I knew
that Troy couldn't fill my tube like George had, but I needed something
in me.

"Fuck me, Troy," I growled.

He didn't need any more encouragement than that.  I rolled onto my back
and pulled my legs up to my chest.  He looked surprised at the bloody
slime oozing from my ass hole.

"Don't worry, babe, that's gonna be all the greasing up my ass will
need," I told him.

He put the inflamed cockhead at my hole and slipped it in.  After
George's monstrous cock, I could barely feel Troy's, but what I did feel
kept my own penis hard.  Something strange seem to happen.  I was on the
brink of a wild orgasm but couldn't go over.  I wanted to come, began,
in fact, to jack at my cock really hard, but I couldn't go over the
edge.  Troy fucked me hard.  His own little pricklet slipped out several
times and when it did he punched it back in as hard as he could.

George knelt beside us.  He licked at my erection while he stroked the
fucking boy's white ass cheeks.

"Your cock tastes of Troy's asshole," he said to me.  "I wonder if the
hole tastes as good."

He bent around the boy's backside and licked and slurped at the hole.  I
knew he would like the taste of the tight, little asshole.  I'd loved
it.  Troy slowed down a little while George sucked at his ass, then
picked up the pace of his fucking as he got, if possible, even harder.
Then his body shivered and his prick started jerking inside me.  It was
a dry but violent orgasm that rocked the young boy.  George was fucking
his ass with his tongue to increase the youngster's pleasure.  When he
was done, Troy fell to his knees, pulling his penis out.  I still hadn't
come and one thing, and one thing only, interested me:  George's once
again raging hard on.

"George, please," I begged.  He knew what I wanted, but instead of
mounting me, looked at Troy, instead.  I wondered if he was considering
trying to fuck the boy.  He couldn't.  He'd rip the kid apart.  I turned
out he had other ideas.

"Feel like giving my boy a blow job, Troy?" he asked.

"Yeah, but I gotta pee real bad," Troy answered.  I knew what George
wanted at that moment for me.

"Well, squeeze into the berth over Danny's face.  He'll know what to do.

Troy did as he was told, his tiny, shrivelled cock dangling inches from
my face.  George had the tip of his huge cock at my blistered hole.

"Tell him what to do, son," he told me, then shoved the prick into me in
one jamming motion.

"Piss in my mouth," I gasped from the pain of George's entry.

"Troy seemed surprised at the suggestion, but I didn't give him a chance
to refuse.  I took the penis in my mouth and sucked on it while I
pressed on the boy's belly, pressing firmly against his bladder.
George's cock was sliding easily in my rectum, punching at the button
inside at the base of my cock.  The man was pulling on my hard on with
his hand.

I could taste the first, tentative drops of Troy's salty urine, then my
mouth was filled suddenly with its full flow.  I gulped was fast as I
could, tasting the delightful bitterness while I rolled my ass around
the gorgeous fullness of George's fucker.  I went over the edge at that
point.  My cock started shooting, spattering gobs of cum over Troy's
ass, onto my belly and over George's hand.  The sperm seared the inside
of my dick.  It felt like a hot wire was being pulled through it.
George was filling my anus with his moistness and the last of Troy's
piss was spilling from my mouth as I finished one of the wildest and
most painful orgasm's I could remember.

I grabbed the boy who was squeezed over me and thrust my mouth over his.

"Like the taste of your piss?"  I asked between thrusts of my tongue
into his mouth.

"Yeah.  I always have," Troy admitted.  I guess all boys must drink piss
once in while.

"Wanna try mine?  I've got to go, too."

"Got enough for both of us?"  George piped in, pulling his cock from my
ass.

Troy and I got off the bed.  The two of them knelt in front of my
flaccid dick.  Troy was first.  I put my prick an inch from his face.  I
didn't want to flood his mouth because I knew he'd gag and lose most of
it if I did.  I squeezed my penis was I squeezed my bladder.  A thin
stream of piss shot from my penis and hit his nose.  I pointed it a
little lower then let his mouth fill with the bright yellow liquid.  I
pinched off the flow.  His face was squinched up but he swallowed what
I'd given him.

"Not bad," he said.

I pointed my cock toward George.  He took it in his mouth.  I knew he'd
take what I had left.  I pissed as hard as I could for as long as I
needed.  He kept swallowing my piss letting barely any dribble from his
mouth.  When I was dry, he let my prick slip from his mouth.

He said to us both, "Better clean up and get dressed.  We can't have fun
like this for the whole day."

I didn't know why not.  My prick was starting to fill up again and so
was Troy's.  We looked at each other and giggled.  He pulled at my pud.

"Can we stay here for a while?"  I asked.

George looked at us and laughed.

"Sure.  Have fun, and I'll keep your mother company, Troy."

Troy and I spent the next hour and a half in quieter but just as
enjoyable cuddling, fondling, sucking.  We ended with me abusing his
little ass with my cock.  I'd loved to have had him fuck me, but my hole
was too sore to let anything in it.


DANNY'S ESCAPE
CHAPTER 10

Troy and I were exhausted by the time we finished our games.  I could
barely keep my eyes open when George and I went to dinner that last
evening on the train.  Half way through our meal Troy and his family
came in to the dining car.

George leaned over to me when he saw the boy and said, "That poor kid
looks as if he had been raked over the coals.  What did you do to him
when I left you two?"

I just giggled in response.  Troy looked at us and gave George a great
big smile and wave.  His gaze shifted to me and his smile softened.
There was a definite sparkle in his eyes.  I think the kid really had
fallen for me.  I know that I felt warm inside when I saw him and
thought about cuddling with him.

Suddenly I felt very confused.  I knew that I wanted to be with George
and yet I also knew that I was falling in live with this kid.  Where did
Jeremy fit in?  Thinking of him made me sad because I wanted to see him
badly.  Could I be in love with three different people?  George sensed
something was bothering me.  He reached across the table and squeezed my
hand.

"Love is hard, ain't it kid," he said.  He didn't know the half of it.
I started to cry and buried my head in my arms so no one would see.

"That's okay," he told me.  "I understand."  Only he didn't.  He was the
reason I was crying.  I wiped my eyes and sniffed my nose dry.

"I'm okay.  I guess I'm tired. can we go to the room soon?"

"Anything you want, babe," he answered.

We finished our meal and left after a brief conversation with Troy and
his mom.  Our roomette was a mess when we entered.  Troy and I hadn't
taken the time to clean up when we had finished our games.  It also
smelled of sweat and sex.  George chuckled when he saw the mess.

"Looks like you two had a pretty good time.  From the looks of things
you'll be ready for sleep soon.

"Before you pack off, though, I think we need to talk about your
future."

I had dreaded this moment for most of the trip.  I didn't know if I'd
have the guts to let George know how I felt about him.  I was afraid of
his feelings about me.  I was afraid for my future.

"Go ahead.  Shoot," I said, my voice calm and steady to hide my
screaming heart.

"You have to understand some things about me, Danny," George began.  "I
am a well known lawyer in San Francisco.  A well known gay lawyer.  I
have chosen to maintain a high profile in the political scene and
consequently have made a fair amount of enemies.  There are more than a
few people who would love to find some controversy to hang me for.
There's no bigger controversy, young man, than a gay man and a boy,
particularly a boy as pretty as you are.

"Do you get what I'm driving at?"

"Sure," I answered, nonchalantly, my voice cool and steady.  "I didn't
expect to live with you.  It's been a blast on the train.  That's all I
expected.  More, really."  My stomach was about to turn inside out.
Maybe what I felt for the man wasn't love but hate.  I could barely see
him through the whiteness that my anger was brewing.  "My plans have
been to go to Frisco and find some friends and check out the action
there.  I didn't nothing from you."

"I can't let you go off on your own like that, Danny.  I'll see that you
get situated some place.  Until then, you can stay with me.  I'll think
of a good lie to cover for you."

"Naw, that's okay.  I'll make it on my own."

"You're mad.  I can tell."

"No.  I'm not mad.  I feel fine."

He looked at me with a strange look on his face, a look that was almost
disappointment.  "We get into Oakland too late for you to strike off on
your own.  Stay with me, please, at least until you have a safe place to
go."

"Let's wait to see how things work out," I answered.  I was more
confused than I had ever been in my confusing life.  I hatred this man
whom I really loved and he seemed like he didn't want to let go of me.
I'd play his game for a little while and stay with him for one night.
Then I'd split.  There were a lot of men in San Francisco who'd want to
love a thirteen year old even if this turkey didn't.

"I'm kinda tired, George.  Is it okay if I go to bed now?"

"Is it okay if I come in with you?" he asked.

"Sure," I answered, "only I'm too tired to do anything."

I slipped out my clothes, letting them drop by the side of the berth and
slid under the covers.  George slid in beside me.  I lay quietly not
wanting to do anything.  He began to pet my hair with his big, rough
hand, then began stroking my neck, my back, my buttocks.  I stayed on my
side when he pulled the covers back off our bodies and scooted to the
bottom of the bed.  I couldn't help but giggle when his tongue began its
exploration of my foot, between my toes, up one leg to the ankle then up
the other.

I hadn't bathed in over a week; George bathed me that night with his
tongue.  I ached for him to love me but discarded the idea that I would
mean anything more to him than a short journey through playland.  His
tongue explored tiny places of my body that I'd forgotten existed.  I
wept silent tears for the layers of love for him that his tongue was
wetting.  I wanted this man I loved more than anything to die, I thought
and having thought it, the thought extinguished itself.  No, it was some
one else who deserved to die.  Not George, not this man whose tongue
bathed my face and tasted the salt of my tears.

The train's whistle called out to the darkness for a caress that the
night could never return.