Hot Valley (14 page)

I put my arm around Charlie's broad, tanned shoulders, as Billy sucked away down below.

“It's good for friends to share moments like this,” I said.

“Yeah,” he said, relaxing his body into mine, “it sure is.”

“Look at Billy working away on that big cock of yours.”

“Mmmm…”

“Looks like he's enjoying himself.”

“Yeah. Suck it, Billy.”

“I wouldn't mind a taste myself.”

“You? But you—”

“Sure, why not?” I said, as Billy moved from Charlie to me. “Tastes good, don't it, Billy?”

“Yeah, tastes good.” Then he went down on me.

“Maybe I'll find out for myself.” I ran a hand down Charlie's flat, firm stomach, where the wet hair stuck to his skin, and started rubbing the base of his groin.

“But you ain't a cocksucker, Aaron,” he said.

“What makes you say that? You saw me suck that lawman's dick.”

“Yeah, but that was just so's we could get out of jail.”

“True, true…” I took hold of his cock and started playing with it. “But maybe I liked it too.”

“Oh yeah? You want to suck me, is that it?”

“Sure.”

“Well, be my guest.”

I leaned over—and Billy, to his credit, never let my dick slip from his mouth—and started kissing the end of Charlie's prick. “Mmmm, that's sweet,” I said, tasting his nectar. “I'm going to eat you.” I opened my mouth and swallowed him to the hilt, holding him at the back of my throat until I needed to break for breath. Then I moved my lips up to the crown and down, up and down, establishing the familiar rhythm that would soon, I knew, have the boy squirming and shooting his load down my throat. But not yet. I had other plans for Charlie.

I moved from his cock to his balls, tasting them, feeling them tighten, and then started working my way down. The firm, hairy passage between his balls and his ass tasted just as good as his cock, sweet and clean from the stream, and he relaxed as I licked and kissed it, spreading his legs as wide as he could. I moved around for better access, obliging Billy (to my regret) to relinquish my cock; he sat, fingering his own hole, and watched.

I think Charlie knew what was coming, but that couldn't prepare him for the first touch of my tongue on his asshole. His body twitched, and he clenched his buttocks.

“What are you doing, man?”

“Eating your ass.”

“I know…but I mean, what do you think… I'm not…”

“How does it feel?”

“I don't know. It feels weird.”

“In a good way or a bad way?”

“Just weird.”

That was as near as he would come to giving me permission to continue, so I gently pried his buttocks apart and went back to work on his hole, gently licking it, kneading the muscular globes of flesh on either side. As he relaxed and his breathing became heavier, I pushed more insistently with my tongue, letting him feel just how much pleasure he could get from a part of his body that, hitherto, had only been used for its most mundane function. It was working; his dick, when I squeezed it, felt like rock under the silky skin.

Charlie's legs relaxed and floated skyward, as I burrowed my tongue further into his hole until the tip was actually inside him. This was new territory for the young soldier—and he was ready to explore.

“You like that?”

“I don't know,” Charlie said, in a voice which clearly meant “yes.”

“Your cock seems to like it.”

He looked down to where his dick was oozing a puddle of precum onto his hairy belly. “Yeah, it does. Ain't that something?”

“That's a fine big cock you've got there, Charlie.” I figured that a little flattery would allow his masculine ego to make the great sacrifice I was about to demand.

He made his cock jump, and laughed. “Seems to be getting bigger,” he said.

“No wonder Billy likes it up his ass so much. Look at the way he's playing with his hole now.” Billy had two fingers up his crack, contorting his torso to fuck himself as hard as he could. Poor kid; I've have to take care of him soon.

“He's fucking crazy,” Charlie said.

“He doesn't look crazy to me,” I said, rubbing my fingers around Charlie's wet asshole. “Looks like he's enjoying himself.”

“Yeah, well…”

“Does it feel good, Billy?”

“Yeah.”

“You like a cock up there, don't you, Bill?”

“You bet.”

I was pushing into Charlie's hole harder now, and his ass lips were opening up to my fingers a little.

“Wouldn't you like to feel what it's like, Charlie?”

“I don't know…”

I slipped one finger inside him; his ass ring bit down on it.

“Hey! What the fuck do you think you're—Ohhhh…”

The connection had been made—that first moment when a young man realizes that his ass is a source of pleasure almost as great as his cock. By the time I'd finished with him, I wanted Charlie to regret the wasted years.

“I'm going to fuck you, Charlie-boy.”

“No,” he moaned, moving his ass around my invading finger.

“And you're going to fucking love it.”

“Oh God…”

Picking up his heavy prick, I gently masturbated him while pushing further into his hole, feeling the soft, yielding walls beyond the tight, elastic ring of muscle. Then I found what I was after, the firm bump of his prostate gland, and I gently pressed. Charlie's eyes shot wide open, and every muscle in his body tensed.

“What the fuck!”

“See? You're going to feel so good, Charlie.”

“I don't know… Don't you hurt me.”

I went back to eating his ass, and this time he was on fire. He pushed into my face, and I was merciless, digging my tongue in as far as I could, eating him like a ripe peach. When I guessed he was ready—and it didn't take long—I hitched his ankles over my shoulders and lined up with the target.

“Okay, man. You better fuck me and get it over with.”

He was so businesslike and serious-looking, with an expression of such concentration on his face, that I had to kiss him. Just as he was about to complain, I breached his ring with my cockhead. His groan of pain was muffled inside our joined mouths.

I love breaking in a new colt for riding, and I know how to take my time. Charlie was resistant at first, but determined to prove that he could take it; all I had to do was wait for the pain to turn to pleasure. His cock had softened slightly, so I caressed it back to full stiffness. That done, he was ready to be fucked.

I started gently, getting him used to the idea, and once his pelvic thrusts were meeting mine I picked up my pace. Charlie was a strong young man, and his taut body was more than a match for my weight bearing down on him. We fucked like crazy, and with each stroke I felt him opening to me. I could tell from his noisy appreciation that each stroke was revealing a new world of sensation of which he'd never dreamed.

I wanted Charlie to come while I was still fucking him, so I took him by the wrist and placed his hand on his cock. He got the message, just as surely as he did back in the jail cell, and started pumping himself. It didn't take long before he was coming, and, as I gave him a few more sledgehammer strokes, he shot a load that went way over his head and onto the grass behind him. The last shots covered his neck, chest, and belly.

I slowed the pace of my fucking, but did not stop entirely; he had to be completely, utterly possessed, and I wanted him to feel the exquisite torture as his hypersensitive ass received its final pummeling. He groaned and wrapped his legs around my back, pulling me into him. My job was done.

I pulled out, tugged on myself three, four times, and then, taking careful aim, added my load to his before collapsing on top of him.

Our breathing slowed gradually, and we might have fallen asleep, but for Billy.

“Hey, what about me?”

Charlie and I bounded to our feet and leaped on him. Charlie, with a new understanding of these things, stuck two rigid fingers up Billy's ass and, to my delight, started sucking his cock. I squatted over Billy's face, allowing him to suck my balls and my limp prick, and within a few moments he was adding his own contribution to the mess on Charlie's upper body.

 

Charlie and Billy proved to be better, and more loyal, companions of the road than any I had previously encountered. But the road was becoming a dangerous place, and the further south we traveled the greater our need to find a safe haven. We were heading toward Richmond, Virginia, the Rebel capital—an odd choice of destination, perhaps, but a city which I know well, and which has become the refuge for all the flotsam and jetsam of the current hostilities. Nobody would come looking for a couple of Union deserters down there, and if my instincts were correct, there would be plenty of opportunities for a man without too many scruples to make a decent living for himself. Besides which, it would put me in a good position to survey the financial chicanery of my so-called family, and to extract from them the money that is mine by rights.

As we got closer to Richmond, the roads got busier, and by the time we were within 50 miles of the city they were positively crowded. And so we were able to travel by day, more or less unmolested among the flood of displaced persons fleeing the advancing Union regiments. I was not the only one to have decided, rightly or wrongly, that the eye of the storm is the safest place to be. Whole families were moving from the rural areas to the relative safety of the city: farm laborers, deserters, old men, children, and even a few of my black brothers and sisters, all were on the move. In this great wave of humanity, one can travel the roads unchallenged; there is safety in numbers. Perhaps the Union troops were unwilling to attack parties of civilians, although we heard horror stories from upstate about surprise attacks, kidnap, murder, and rape.

We concentrated on attracting as little attention as possible, although Charlie was unable to resist attaching himself to a family with three fine young daughters. The parents, and certainly the girls, were delighted to have secured such a strong-shouldered young protector, and they believed Charlie's claim that he was a student returning from the Northeast to his home in the South. He embroidered (unnecessarily, I think) by telling them that Billy was his brother, and that I was their “hired man.” This caused us some laughter when we left the road for a while to bathe, and I forced myself into Charlie's lying mouth. He sucked and swallowed with enthusiasm, but I am afraid he is only a “companion of the road,” increasingly keen to practice his newfound skills on a young person more to his natural taste. Billy, on the other hand, will travel on the same road as me—and, perhaps, further than me—for the rest of his life.

The routes into Richmond appeared to be open and undefended, despite the fact that, not so very long ago, there were Union troops besieging the city. We gained the city center unchallenged, and set about finding lodgings and food.

Our first shelter was a single room at the back of a bar, where Charlie had ingratiated himself with the owner, a typical Virginian whose only interest, it seemed, was how to extract as much money from his customers as possible. Charlie was more than a match for him, with his easy charm and talent for lies, and persuaded him that he was a man of property with a case full of cash with which he was more than ready to part. It was a good thing we had dressed ourselves in stolen clothes before hitting town; if the landlord
had seen us, dirty and travel-weary, just a few hours ago, he would never have served us a drink, let alone rented us his precious, massively overpriced accommodation. Eyebrows were raised when I walked into the bar, but I busied myself with our scant “luggage” and tried to look convincingly servile. “The boy can take your bags in now,” the landlord said, as Charlie, acting high-rolling as if to the manner born, downed shots of rye with his new drinking buddies. He waved his permission to me, and I picked up our few possessions, nearly all of them stolen along the way. He would pay for his arrogance later, I swore, with a particularly brutal fucking.

Billy, meanwhile, was out in town scouting for likely employment. His first port of call was the theater, or the Richmond Alhambra, as it was rather grandly known, where he inquired of the proprietor if there were any openings for stage hands, cleaners, and the like. A protracted interview followed, in which Billy's oral and anal skills were put to the test, and he left with jobs for all three of us, and a warning—more of a threat—from the manager that if his wife heard a word of this Billy and his friends would be leaving town without their balls.

“Dirty old bastard,” Billy said, as we lay down to rest at night. “He was just as interested in cock as I am, just doesn't have the guts to admit it. Oh well, he's a good fuck, and he'll lodge us and pay us as well, especially when he gets a look at these two beauties.” He stopped talking and set to licking the hard pricks—mine and Charlie's—that he held in his greedy hands.

 

The Alhambra is situated in one of Richmond's less respectable neighborhoods, a network of three or four streets where every other house is a bar, or a brothel, or divided into lodgings for the most transient of visitors. There were whores in great numbers clustering around the doorways and porches of the most successful houses, which rejoice in such poetic names as Les Champs Elysées and the Chinese Palace. They whistled and called out as we walked down the street this morning, and I could see Charlie preening like a peacock, although his strut was somewhat impeded by a sore ass. He complained, when we woke this morning, that I had used him too roughly—but his performance last night belied his rueful morning mood. He rode my prick like a man in a frenzy, calling out the most obscene endearments, and even took Billy's cock in his mouth at the same time. He remained rock hard throughout his punishment, and shot one of the biggest loads I have ever seen. A sore ass, and a sore disposition, often follow when a young man goes further into the realms of male sex than he had intended. Charlie feels himself in danger of going completely queer, and is desperate to find a female balance. Well, he won't have far to look—if he can afford it.