CHAPTER 21: SUMMER OF THE FOX

Fox (1995)

Fox and I had been friends since we met behind the park in Combes.  True to his word, we had been hanging out every day since we met.  While I witnessed him fib, more than a few times, I never caught him in a lie to me.  Fox was fast with questions, but slow with answers.  I did find out more about him, and would continue to over the next several years of our friendship.  He was a rough kid, outgoing, with an aggressive smile, sometimes hyper (nowadays, they would call it A.D.D.) and definitely the kind of guy you wanted on your side.  He had also had a rough life, filled with more experience by eighteen than I suspect most people have in a lifetime. 

Fox was also everything Billy was not, he was openly gay, for one thing.  It wasn't something he either valued or hid, his sexual orientation just was part of who he was.  He had engaged in sexual activity with women too, based on what he'd told me, and on more than one occasion, but he didn't describe himself as bisexual.  Of course I'd warned him that my family would not be open to his sexual preferences or our sexual activities.

Although Fox was far from stupid, he only had a GED.  He said that most of his life he had been home schooled.  He had travelled in carnivals with his grandfather all of his life.  His parents had died when he was just a child.  During my senior year, he taught me how to fight, and I helped him prepare for his GED. 

My family life was so different from his.  Visiting our house was always an adventure for him, and by the end of the summer he had become a regular fixture.  My brother Mark accepted him completely, and we were always roughhousing and getting into trouble.  My mother started cooking to impress him, that's the kind of effect Fox has on people.  I'm not sure exactly which of his charms could be credited. His manners, though his delivery was askew, were impeccable.  Mom knew he appreciated her efforts.  She also knew he needed our family, and though he had a grandfather, the man was sick, and spent as much time in the hospital as in their trailer. Fox was basically an orphan, and tht brought out something benevolent in my mom during my senior year that had been missing before.

So, like I said, she was always cooking something wonderful those days.  Fox and his grandfather couldn't cook anything more complicated than Stouffer's frozen dinners, and I did find out that he had a two brothers were much older than him.  But he never talked about them.

She would say how Mark and I should learn to show appreciation like Fox.  This was a big switch from how she treated most of my friends previously.  He seemed to already know her religious jargon, and could talk to her about her God the way other women from church could.  Half the time she would ask him to lead a prayer at the dinner table and he did, though I know for a fact his beliefs were unlike hers.  

My dad accepted him as well, offered him a job at his store, and had even offered to take us all deer hunting.  Dad related to him more like the way he got along with our cousins.  It was a masculine connection, a friendship among men, and I think, for my dad, the fact that Fox was teaching me martial arts had something to do with it.  Later on, I remember reading a story by Ray Bradbury about a Martian who assumed the identity of someone you loved and compelled you to care for him.  That was a science fiction story, but Fox was the reality. He was a chimera, becoming many things to many people.  I'm sure in the carnival business he knew how to work the crowd like a master.

Mom set up Mark's old room as a guest room, and that little room basically became Fox's room in short order.  If Fox stayed the night with us, which happened more and more ad the summer went on, then I stayed with him. Mark knew what was happening, and he was cool with it, though there was all the usual teasing you might expect from a brother. And some days, Mark's jokes about "You guys were at it all night. Are you gonna be able to walk right today?" were more truth than humor.

There were a few times Mark made an appearance in our room warning "You two better keep it down or Mom is going to be up here!"  But that was mostly Mark's sense of humor since by that time Mom was regularly working the night shift at the hospital.  It was very, very difficult to get fucked by a dick that large and not make noise. Very hard. I had regularly taken to using hemorrhoid cream.  There was a closet that connected the two rooms, and one time when Mom was at home and began knocking on our bedroom door, I had to make a fast dash into Mark's room through the closet, knocking half the shift down in the process.  But I got to the door in short order and all was well.  Mom was just wanting me to do some chore, nothing more. 

Mark and I had several conversations about anal sex, or more specifically my getting fucked by Fox, and how it could still feel good even though it hurt like a motherfucker too. Mark had never been a bottom and had no desire to.  I think everything that had happened between Chuck and me, and he had seen some of it at east, sort of inoculated him against being the bottom during anal sex.  Mark was the top and Ray was the bottom, and that's how things were between them for years.  The only time Ray had been top was with me and I think with another cousin.

That summer, before my Senior year, Fox and I would explore the "high grass" as Fox called it, or a small patch of woods with a creek that ran behind my house.  Mark often came with us, and sometimes other friends.  Fox and Mark got along very well, and somehow my friendship with Fox earned me some level of respect with Mark, especially as Fox was training me in martial arts.   Sometimes Mark would join us, and Fox would encourage us to spar. But by my senior year, Mark and Ray had become inseparable, he spent more time at Ray's house than he did at home.  And amazingly, Mom didn't seem to mind it.

Santa Rosa Creek (1996)

BLOOD BROTHERS

Early on that summer, soon after we had met, on an especially hot day, Fox stripped off his shirt at the creek, which was only about knee deep and was splashing water on his upper body. Mark commented on his hairy chest and trail. 

Then Mark pulled his t-shirt off too to cool off.  He didn't have washboard abs like Fox, but his stomach was flat.  Mark now had a line of hair reaching down from his navel, much more spare than mine, and certainly far less than the hirsute trail Fox had on his stomach descending down below his navel into his pants.  But Fox's bushy trail was more like the kind I'd noticed on my father's stomach. 

Then Fox unzipped his jeans, and pulled them and his boxers down to his thighs, exposing his half hard dick, balls, and ass.

Mark's eyes widened, even semi-soft Fox's dick was plump, long, and, well, enormous!  It hung down at a forty five degree angle and pulsed with life.  Mark audibly gasped when I saw it.

"Alagazam!"  Fox said proudly.  "Big, huh?"

"Fox, it's the biggest one I've ever seen."  Mark said.

"Who's else have you seen?"

"A few," Mark admitted.  "My brother," Mark motioned at me, and made the teeny weenie gesture with his fingers, then went on "of course, and my dad, my cousins, Ray, guys on the wrestling team, in PE, and you."

"You really saw your dad's dick?" Fox laughed.

"Yeah, we used to shower together sometimes when I was a little kid, and then sometimes when we all went camping." Mark went on, "It wasn't some perv thing," Mark said, "His looked a lot like Chuck's dick," he motioned at the two of us, "our oldest brother."

"Did you really see your dad hard?"  Fox seemed fixated on the subject of my father's penis, in his conversation with my brother, and I was getting irritated.  The last thing I wanted to discuss was my father.  Mark opened his mouth again to say something but I interrupted...

"No," I answered rather emphatically, "he never saw our father hard."

Fox looked over at me, completely amused, that look he got when he realized he had completely and totally won some verbal sparring event.

"Have you ever seen your brother hard?"  Fox asked.

"Yeah," Mark began, then went on and on, "He has a micropenis." He pronounced it m-i-c-r-o-p--n-i-s like he was using a medical term he he'd never used before.  He said, never one to pass up an opportunity to serve me a dose of humble pie. "Everybody knows." He went on blabbing despite my efforts to interrupt, "Everyone at school calls him LD"  Mark laughed, then explained, "Little Dick, or maybe Little Dave.  That's been going on for at least a year or two."

"Really!" Fox exclaimed. "An because you are his younger brother, they think you got a squeeter too?"

"Squeeter?" Mark almost choked in laughter.

"It's a of term of affection for a small penis." Fox explained. Then he added, "You know, I happen to like your brother's small penis.  I really do.  I prefer them.  But what I see is that you are embarrassed to be David's brother?" Fox asked. "Because they tease you too, like they do him.  Right?"

"Well," Mark began, "Yes."  Then his face changed, and his eyes watered. "You know how many times they pulled my pants down . . ."  he said, but it finished with the unspoken "to see if I am a freak like him?"  He didn't have to say it.  Fox had a way of cutting to the truth, bringing it out.

"My best friend in the show," Fox said, "Is a little person.  I guess you would call him  midget, or  freak." And there was a tone in his voice that was there deliberately to make Mark cringe, cause Fox knew that was a word that had been in his head.  Fox's ability to read folks was uncanny.

But you know my brother, Mark,  Everything is like water off a duck's back to him.  He comes back smiling with, "He got a squeeter too?" And the fact Mark had remembered that particular piece of jargon meant I would hear it again from him.  but maybe not as a term of endearment.

"Nah, man," Fox said, pulling his hands wide apart, "He," and he emphasized the 'He' then went on "has the biggest dick I ever seen."

"You fuckin' with us?"

"Nah, the very biggest," Fox retorted, and added, "half the time he faints when he gets wood."  And while I know he was telling the truth about the first part, the second part was just one of his stories.  Which reminds me that one time Fox told me that "Stories make life more interesting," he told me, "After it happens all you got is the story.  You might as well tell stories that make life more interesting.  What's the difference?"  Fo didn't see them as lies, but rather as more interesting alternate acts about life, that made life better. I sometimes wondered which parts of his story were real and which parts he improved in the telling.  In the final analysis, I'm not sure but what Fox was right.

"You ever seen Chuck hard?" Fox asked.

"Not like David has," Mark said chuckling.

"What do you mean?" Fox asked, there was an expression that crossed his face, and I knew that he knew exactly what Mark was saying, and at this point  realized his own big dick had been getting bigger and harder as this conversation went on. 

I looked over at Mark, horrified at what he was on the verge of divulging to Fox.  He caught the look in my eyes and caught himself.

"Well," he began, "They shared a bedroom for a long time,"  and added, "and we all three shared the same bathroom."

There was another pause. 

I think Fox realized he had brought out some unhappy feelings in me, and changed the subject.  "Have you ever caught your brother playing with his dick?" he asked Mark.

"Sure," Mark said, "Lots of times."

Fox didn't laugh, or ask Mark to spill more of our family beans.  Instead he looked across at me and said, "I wanna jerk off, and I wanna see you jerk off."  Fox started rubbing hand up and down the shaft of his dick.  "I will if you will." By now, it was fully hard and pointing out.

Before I even thought about it, I took off my shirt and lowered my pants.  There was no denying Fox when he wanted something.  My little dick was already hard, and I reached down and took my little dick between my thumb and first finger and started to stroke it.  I copied his motions, and we watched each other as we stroked.

"David, make the skin go over the head."

As I began working my foreskin, in time with his own strokes the waves or orgasm began to build and overwhelm me.  I knew I was close already. So did he.

"I wanna see you finish," Fox said, and he sat down on the grassy the bank next to the stream.  He motioned me to him and I sat down next to him on the grassy bank. I leaned back against a tree and went to work. "I love your little squeeter," he whispered in my ear. 

But seeing the look on Mark's face, as he took his own dick out and began stroking himself faster and faster on the other side of the creek, took me over the edge, and load after load of my teen spirit arced over toward him and splashed on the grass.  Then Fox unloaded squirts of fantastically thick yogurt-like cum, dripped onto the palm of his other hand.  Fox fed it to me insistently. Then Mark began moaning, his hair was sweaty and his cheeks got red, and suddenly he started shooting too, arc after arc, long splashes of spooge to rival my own.

Fox continued too feed me his load while Mark was busy unloading his own, then motioned me to watch Mark shoot his seed on the grass with a nod of his head, and whispered, "He sure ain't got a squeeter,"  and smirked his "ain't no big deal" look. He was teasing me about something he knew damn well was a sore subject and trying to make a point I guess.

Mark saw us watching him and erupted into a "what?" gesture with his right hand. 

"You have a nice dick, Mark," Fox said, "bigger than your brothers' dick," which made me bristle.

Mark laughed, and exclaimed, "waay bigger."

"B.C." Fox said flatly, then added, Too bad," with a hint of disappointment.  "I like your brother's squeeter," he went on, "it makes him special."

Mark got a strange look on his face, considering Fox's words.

"Mark," Fox began, "He is already a far better fighter than you, and we just started training really." Fox went on, "The reason he gets picked on is he lacks confidence.  Confidence is what wins a fight.  And I can't let you keep stealing David's confidence to build up your own." I had never heard anyone talk to Mark like that, so direct. "I understand David used to have a lot of trophies that you broke  while back," Fox said and shook his head, "now why on earth would you want to do that unless those trophies made you very, very jealous." Fox continued, "You wanted to take away all those symbols of his success.  You're just as bad as those who bully your brother.  You bully him too.  You just have your own way of raping people."

Marks eyes went wide and I knew he was thinking about going after Fox just then.  The fact it pissed him off so bad, I am sure is because Fox's words cut so close to his truth.  I watched Mark's expression. I had told Fox about how Mark destroyed all my trophies and I remember how Fox reacted in anger at the time. 

"Soon he will be a far better fighter," Fox said, "and he will beat the shit out of you if you cannot learn to respect him. . . "  The tone of his voice changed.  His voice dropped at least an octave when he said it, and Mark knew he had been warned.  here was an unspoken ending to the sentence, and Mark knew the unspoken swords were, "and if he doesn't I will." Mark started to say something but thought the better of it and just shut his mouth.  He finished getting dressed.

"He is your brother, but now he is my lover.  He belongs to me in ways you will never understand.  You do not get to ever fuck him again.   Specifically, you will never put your seed into him again.  It would anger me," he emphasized, "greatly."

"It's better if we are all friends," Fox said.

Fox took out knife and made a small efficient slice into his palm, then handed the knife to me.  I did the same thing, and he positioned his hand against mind so our palms were touching, so our blood would mingle. He told me to give Mark the knife, and Mark made a small cut on my right hand and then sliced his own left palm.  This continued on until we were standing in a circle, our palms connected, our blood mingled. 

"We each have to say something, make a promise, then reveal a secret, and always tell the truth," Fox said, "Each to each."  He paused, then he said "I will start first."

"David, I promise to be your brother." Fox began, "I will love you and be true to you in every way I can, but even should our paths take us down separate roads, I will always be your brother."

I turned to look at Fox.  His eyes welled up though no tears fell.  I knew he meant everything he had said.  Then I made my oath to him, "I promise to love and care for you, and I will try in every way to be worthy of your love.  I will always be honest with you, kind, patient and forgiving.  But most of all, I promise to be a true and loyal friend to you. I love you."

Then I looked over at Mark and I realized it was now my turn to make my promise to him, the brother who so often teased and tormented me, who had made me feel so inadequate.   Fox was creating an opportunity for everything to change.  I realized this was one of those moments where I had a choice to make, and everything would go on the way it always had or things could change. "I promise to be your brother, companion and friend, your comrade in adventure, your keeper of secrets, your greatest fan and your toughest adversary." The words flowed out without thought and without effort.  Like everything else where Fox was involved, it was sort of magical.

From the expression on his face, I knew Mark understood I meant what I had said.  Now it was his turn.  My palms were throbbing, and it felt like there was some sort of energy flow that was flowing through us.  The three of us had completed some mystical circuit.  I have never really felt anything like it, not in church or any other place.  I think it must be how some people say they feel the presence of God, but I never felt anything like that, except for then, at that moment standing by the stream.

Mark squirmed a bit, then finally said, "I believe in you, David.  From now on I will work to be a brother you are proud of, a brother you can count on.  I will keep your secrets, too.  I can't promise never to tease you cause that is who i am, but I can tell you that beneath it all I will stand by you as your brother.  You are not alone."   

Then he turned to Fox, "Man I barely know you, but I respect you.  All I can promise is to be your friend so long as you treat David good."

Fox looked at Mark and spoke, "I promise to earn your friendship.  I will treat you as my brother, for you are my brother, even though you don't know it yet.  I promise to help you find the thing that makes you stand out, the thing that will make you cool."

"Now we will each whisper a secret into the ears of a brother.  It shall be a great secret.  And it may only be spoken aloud again if a brother fails us, fails in his oath."  Then  he whispered something to Mark.  Mark reacted, visible shaken, though in all the years that have passed, Mark has kept his word, he has never shared with me what Fox told him.  After he finished whispering his secret, Fox placed a gentle kiss on Mark's mouth.  It was not erotic, rather a kiss between brothers.  A kiss that became a sign of trust, a symbol of a vow.

Mark whispered something to Fox, and Fox smiled.  Then Mark whispered to me, "The fact you have a little dick is the only thing that makes me better than you.  You win so many trophies, you are tall and handsome.  You are so smart, the smartest boy in your class.  I am jealous of you, and that is my secret."    My knees almost gave way.  For Mark to make such a confession meant some magic was surely at play in our little circle.   Mark kissed me then.  On the mouth.  Like a brother.

I whispered back to Mark my one great secret I have never told him, "One night I saw Chuck standing at the door and looking at you as you slept, and I knew what he was thinking.  I told him, 'Mark is not a cocksucker' and if you try to turn him into one, then what does that make you?'  He punched me, because he knew, I knew his secret too.  but he left you alone, and that is what I wanted.  I was trying to protect you."  When I leaned forward to kiss him, he met my kiss with his own.  It was not the kiss of a brother.  It carried within it his heart and his appreciation.  It was a kiss that said, "Thank you."

It was my turn, and I told Fox my biggest fear, "I fear that I will never be a man. I fear that I will go through the rest of my life as 'the boy with the little dick'."

Fox smiled and whispered back to me, "You will be," he began, "but someday it will stop being a bad thing, and your story will make a difference,.  The world will change for you."  Then he told me his secret, "The Sybil was my grandmother, a raghead, and I have her gift.  Not just dukkering, the real thing.  Only my grandfather knows.  It is a shame for the gift may only be passed to daughters, never to sons.  It is a good skill, but it makes me a freak."

After that we were all standing, shifting in our positions, still thinking about what we had said, and what we had heard.  Then Fox spoke up again, moving the ceremony to the third turn of the wheel.

"Now we finish with the naming of names," he said.  Among us we will each carry a new name, only to be used in private, to always remind us that we are brothers."  Then he turned to me and said, "There is only one name for you, David." And I knew what it was going to be before he even said it.  "You shall be Squeeter."

Mark actually giggled and nodded.  I saw the truth in it too.  The fact is I always will be the guy with the little dick.  It is as true today as it was back then when Fox said it.  I will always remember too, that it is a term of endearment, at least for Fox.

Fox looked at Mark and said, "You will be Kabaro!"

Mark laughed, "What?"

Fox said, "On some circuits, it means 'big brother' or even a guy who is overly proud proud of his dick."

Mark said, "Nah."

And Fox said, "It fits  You are the brother with the bigger dick." he smirked, "Right?"

Mark looked at him and I know he was wondering the same thing I was always wondering about Fox  Basically, "How did he know?"

But unlike "Squeeter", Mark's nickname would soon be forgotten and never really used.  Mark walked away from Fox and I and walked most of the trek back at least 10-20 yards ahead of us.  Between the whispers and the nickname, Fox had effectively chilled him.

"And I'm Fox" he said.  I started to argue the point, but then remembered that his real name was Danny Bliss.  I wondered how he'd gotten the nickname 'Fox'.   Who had given him that name?  I wouldn't find that out until the next summer.

Later that day, as we walked home, Fox grabbed me by the elbow and stopped me, facing me, standing very close.

"Squeeter, I hate to point this out." He began, "You such a lugen," he said, then added, "a mark. Respect is earned. Until you beat the shit outta your little brother he is never going to respect you."  He looked at me seriously, "You have sucked him off a lot of times, haven't you?" he repeated, "A lot of times, but not as often as you did your other brother."   I splutter out a protest, trying to tell him that we had gotten into a knock down drag out fight once, and that I had won it, but Fox wasn't listening.  He reminded me, "Don't act like a lugen, I know this shit, remember?" he said and pointed at his right eye again, "And what I didn't see in your face I saw on Mark's."   

He took hold of me firmly,  "Remember what I told you about cum?" He went on, "How it changes you," "Remember?"  He shook me roughly.  "You sucked both of them off.  They ever once suck you?"

I had my head held down in shame.

"It means what you say it means."  He raised his voice to me, "But when enough people agree then it might as well be real."  Those were maybe the wisest words anyone ever spoke to me, and they came out of the mouth of an eighteen year old carny.    I don't think anyone has ever described reality more perfectly.

Fox actually looked angry with me.  "I really want to slap you right now."

"I know."  I said, still feeling shame.  I wondered how much longer, without Fox, I would have survived in my own family.  It had been such a lonely existence.

We walked on a long ways and then Fox said quietly, "Let's do sit-ups and lift weights in your workshop when we get back!"

David (1994)

RUNNING IN PLACE

That same summer Fox wouldn’t give me a moment’s peace until I initiated some kind of exercise program. He said that what is all came down to was your physical condition and your attitude.  He said that  in a fight, ultimately, the guy with the most confidence, and in the best condition would in.  And he knew I wasn’t disciplined enough to do it on my own.  I liked to swim and spent hours practicing that so I was in good condition, but he argued that fighting and swimming are not the same thing. 

Fox hated regular gyms because of the cost, and there was no privacy, so he asked if I knew anyone with a home gym.  I told him my brother Chuck had converted my Dad's old workshop into a home gym.  Fox wanted to check it out. 

During the divorce dad moved most of his equipment and tools out, but he did leave a nice Weider weight bench, the kind with chest flys, lat bars, etc.  It was super nice for a home gym.  I think Dad left it to help Chuck who was playing football.  I won more often as a swimmer, but no one really thought about swimming as a sport back then, it was all about football in South Texas. Dad had also left us a set of dumbbells and barbells he had used.  Chuck added some other pieces: a jump rope, kettle bell, pull up bars in the doorway he used and an elliptical trainer.  There was a punching bag too, but it had come loose from the beam where it had been attached.  Chuck didn't take any of it when he went off to college.

“Okay, thus place is perfect,” Fox announced after having checked the place out. “I think I have an idea of how we should proceed. We’ll design a mix of upper body, lower body and core exercises to tone and shape your body, and also have a cardio-component that you’ll do every time you’re in the gym to help increase your stamina.  In addition to your swimming.  You are still on the team and I expect your senior year to be your best year, so we will work on that too. ”

I scowled, and he sighed. "So is this as far as we go then?"

“No," I broke in.  "I want to do this."  and added "Please."

He stopped smiling and told me, "If this is going to work you have to do what I say, that means you have to trust me that I know what's I'm doing and have a plan for everything I make you do. Agreed?"

"Okay,"

"First I wanna see you stand on your head," he said, and I complied.  It was something I could already do well.  I have pretty good balance and was able to keep the pose for a short while,

Headstand (1994)

"Ok, Good," he said, "Now strip down naked."

"For real?" I asked.

"Yes, and after you do it run in place until I say stop."

I had the sinking feeling that the running in place got added because of my question, which he later confirmed for me.  So I ran, and he would interrupt me every little bit to say, "Knees higher." and I would adjust until my legs were aching.  My little dick first flopped a lot during the run, but then quickly retracted inside me as my muscles started becoming more demanding of my blood supply.  Fox had found a pivoting metal floor mirror Dad had left.  He positioned it in front of me so I could see myself exercising. Then Fox grabbed up a  peg board and a metal rod and inserted the rod so it stretched across in front of me at about waist level and told me to make sure my knees hit it every time.   "You have to go 10 minutes hitting the yardstick every time you lift a knee.  If you don't, that run doesn't count and you have to start him over." 

Ten minutes seemed like thirty, but Fox ran alongside me adding pressure to make me keep up with his pace, but of course Fox said I had missed several knee strikes when I had failed to lift them high enough but I knew he was right.  He announced my failure and put me back to work, and again he ran right alongside me.  I ran again, my legs were already sore, and again Fox announced that I had failed.  I realized at that point that the chances of me achieving success were going down the tubes cause I was getting more and more fatigued.  I had to make a valiant effort.  Fox maintained his own practiced pace, like a machine his knees high, getting the most mileage out of the run.  On the last try Fox relented and gave it to me despite the fact I know I had missed the yardstick at least three times.

"Ok," Fox said, "Now you can keep running in place without the yardstick." He said, "Twenty minutes."

"I'm too tired," I complained, "I need to rest a minute." 

"Who is in charge here?" he looked furious.

"You are, Fox," I said.  I knew it was the only answer he would accept.

"Who is trying to teach you something?" He asked.

'You are." I said.  It felt like something I imagined to happen in a fraternity initiation.

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes." I said.

"Do you?" He asked, "Cause I don't think you do."

"Yes, I do trust you Fox."

"Good," he exclaimed.  "I may be carny, but I'm no grifter.  Now drop down on your knees."  Then he added.  "Do nothing until I tell you to, and do exactly what I say."

I know my mouth dropped open.  I could see Fox draw a breath to begin speaking and I quickly out my hands on the waistband to his red shorts and got to work.  Fox was wearing only red shorts and a t-shirt and covered in sweat from running along with me. 

After he pulled down his shorts, Fox  took off his shirt.

Fox was standing in front of me now naked and covered in sweat then proceeded to grab the back of my head and force my face against his hardening dick and sweat glistening pubes.  While he was clean, his dick smelled intoxicating.  I did not know what to do.  

"Do exactly what I say." Fox said. "You need to learn to accept my coaching for this to work."

"To begin with, I want you to study my dick.  Just stare at it, otherwise do nothing."  Fox kept his hands on his hips as I continued to stare at his dick.  I noticed his dick would occasionally tremble a little, like he was flexing his muscles.  I watched as his dick slowly began to thicken and stiffen as it became harder.  I was openly staring at his dick, when I noticed that my throat was dry.  By then his massive shaft was completely hard and had a small pearl drop of fluid leaking from the slit.  I involuntarily licked my lips again as I stared at his dick. I was mesmerized by the sight of his dick and slowly looked back up into his face.  When I looked back down at his dick and saw the fluid slowly trickle down the underside of his dick. 

"Open your mouth." he commanded.  "This ain't gonna be no punk ride," I felt pressure on the back of my head as Fox slowly pulled my face closer to his dick.  As he pulled my head closer, I automatically pulled his dick down and pointed it towards my mouth.  As the head of his dick slowly pushed against my lips, I opened my mouth wider until the head of his dick was completely inside my mouth. 

Fox patted me on the head and said, "Good boy.  Now close your lips around the head of my dick."  I closed my lips around his dick and he said, "Okay, now lick around the head of my dick and get it wet with your spit."  I slowly licked my tongue around the head of his dick and slowly flicked my tongue back and forth across the ridge of his large helmet shaped head.  I liked the feel of his dick in my mouth and thought the fluid had a very soothing taste.

Fox moaned and said, "Good, now move your lips down onto my dick until you can't go any farther."  I gently pushed my mouth down on his dick until I felt the head of his dick lightly touch the back of my throat.  His shaft, which got thicker the closer I got to the base forced my jaws further apart.  I was surprised at how much I was enjoying the sensation of having his dick in my mouth. "Put your finger there to mark how far you got."  And I wrapped my hand around his shaft to mark just how much of his shaft I'd been able to swallow.

Fox said, "Okay, now pull your mouth off my dick until just the head is still in your mouth, lick around the head a few times, then shove it back down into your mouth." I did as Fox said and he moaned.  When I had his dick back down into my mouth, he said, "Move your mouth up and down my dick and suck at the same time.  Every time you shove it in your mouth try to swallow just a little more."  I kept working his penis, every time trying to go just a little further, and when I did I moved my fingers on his shaft to mark just how much I had managed. 

"When the head of my dick touches the back of your throat, try to push down further.  If you gag, pull off and try again." Fox instructed, "Eventually, you won't gag anymore and my dick will slide all the way down your throat." I looked up into his face as I pushed my mouth down on his dick.  He smiled and patted me on the head and said, "You can do this, Squeeter.  You're doing a great job so far and believe it or not, my dick will go all the way down your throat." He continued, "That's the way I really like it."  And when he said that, more than anything I wanted to please him.  I liked that Fox said I was doing a good job and I wanted to please him more, so I pushed down onto his dick until the head of his dick touched the back of my throat.  His shaft was so thick my jaws felt like they would unhinge. Almost immediately I started to gag, so I pulled off, then went back down.  The second time I went down, his dick tapped the back of my throat as I gagged slightly, and again I pulled back.  I did this again and again without making much progress in getting his deeper into my mouth and throat. 

"This time when your feel my dick touching your throat, swallow hard." he instructed, and when I did his dick slid down into my throat about an inch or so.  I pulled back off his dick, licked around the head, then pushed back down on his dick.  The head of his dick tapped against the back of my throat, but I swallowed hard but did gag several times.  I felt something come up in my throat, but I didn't vomit.  His dick was slick, covered in mucus, so I kept pushing until I felt my nose burrow into the thick pubic hair at the base of his dick.  I kept swallowing hard, and sucked his dick as it filled my throat until I started getting light-headed from lack of air, then I pulled off. 

Fox was moaning and slightly humping his hips against my face.  I slid my mouth back down on his dick and sucked on it.  The muscles in my throat were constricting as I sucked on his dick and he moaned and said, "Oh yeah, I love the way your throat muscles work my dick. You are one good cock-sucker."  I pulled my mouth off Fox's Kong dong and licked around the sensitive skin under the ridge of his cockhead.  He guy moaned again as he humped against my face and said, "Move your mouth up and down my dick faster.  You make my monster feel so good." 

I was overcome with Fox's compliments and was determined to please him.  I also wanted to show off my new skill.  I had sucked a lot of dick, taken dick pretty deep, but his shaft was so thick and so long this was definitely a whole new experience.  I began to slide my mouth up and down his dick faster and faster until my nose would mush against his pubic hair with each thrust.  y lips stretched around the base of his cock.  It was hard to believe I had that whole monster down my throat.  I had put my hands on the his legs to give myself some stability, while I sucked his mammoth dick down my throat.  I felt the muscles of his legs tense as he humped his hips against my face.  I had to pace my breathing with the moments his dick pulled back out, unclogging my esophagus.  His dick had continued to ooze the fluid into my mouth and I liked the light salty bleachy taste that it had. 

His dick was completely slimy and I had my mouth open as I went down on his dick, so my spit was drooling out of my mouth and down over his balls.  As I continued sucking his dick down into my throat, I felt it pulse and expand in my mouth until he grabbed my head and said, "Oh yeah, David.  I'm going to cum.  I going to shoot my cum right down your throat.  Swallow my spunk."

When he pulled back my airway cleared and I drew a deep breath knowing what I expected would come. Fox tensed his legs and shoved his dick all the way down my throat.  He tightly gripped my head and held it down on the base of his dick as he humped his hips against my mouth, then he gasped and I felt his dick pulse inside my throat.  I could feel his sperm shooting down into my throat, then he released the tight grip on my head.

I pulled my mouth off his dick until just the head was still in my mouth.  His dick was still throbbing and I felt three or four more spasms as his dick continued to pump his man spirit into my mouth.  I grabbed onto his dick and pumped my hand up and down.  I swallowed automatically as my mouth filled up. The taste of his sperm was slightly bleachy and salty, just like the fluid that had seeped out earlier and I despite the strong flavor I realized that I loved the taste of it. 

I let go of his dick and sucked it for a little longer until it got soft and slipped out of my mouth. I grabbed around the base and stuck it back it my mouth and sucked on it until Fox pushed my head away from him.  I sat back on my heels and looked up at the guy. 

Fox smiled down at me, "Your no cocksucking gazoony, eh?" and went on to say, "You will make a great blade glommer someday"  The word triggered those times my older brother, Chuck, had called me just that, "a cocksucker", but when Fox said it there was a whole different tone in his voice and I could tell he meant it as a complement not an insult. 

For some reason, I was embarrassed and blushed as Fox stepped closer to me and patted me on the head and said, "Did you like blowing my monster?"

"Y-y-yes!" 

Fox smiled down at me and said, ""Did you want to suck it again?"  I was giddy with desire and slightly jumped up and down on my knees as I said, "Oh yeah." 

"Good," he said. "That can happen tonight if you put in a full nelson and do exactly what I say."

Then ordered me to get up and start running until he told me to stop.  Which I did without question.  I pushed myself until my legs gave out and I fell onto the floor.  My legs were jelly and I had no ability to stand.

Fox pulled me up and sat me down on a bench.  He had me lean back and put light weights on the bar bells.  He told me to start doing some lists and to count how many I could do.  I did about twenty four, and he added some weight and repeated his instructions.  He added until I could only do between ten and twelve bench presses before failure, then told me we were going to keep doing sets of ten. We continued working on my arms until I could not even get the barbell off the rack.  Then he had me run some more. 

David (1993)

"When you can walk," he began, "come on inside and get a shower.  I will make us something to eat."

The rest of the day and evening, I was extremely quiet.  Once when I went back downstairs I heard Mark and Fox talking out on the back porch.  I froze in place long enough to understand that Fox had coaxed Mark into telling him all about what had happened with Chuck, at the end of which Fox asked him, "So how long has David been sucking your dick?"

Mark, the incorrigible, seldom blushed, but Fox had a way about him. 

"About three years" Mark admitted after a pause. 

"But you have a boyfriend now," Fox said, "Right?"

"Um," Mark paused like he was trying to decide if the term boyfriend described Ray correctly.  Of course, that was exactly what Ray had become.  The two of them were inseparable."Yeah." he said at last.

"Good." Fox said.  "He has to stop now." Fox said, "You may not see it, or maybe you do, but sucking your dick, and Chuck's, has damaged him.  Whether you meant to or not, you have hurt your brother."  Mark started to protest, but Fox interrupted him, "If you ask him to suck your dick again we will stop being friends," Fox warned, then smiled again, widely, "but it is better we remain friends, right?" And I wondered if Mark even realized that he had been threatened.

When I went to bed, I went directly to the room my mom had given over to Fox when he stayed with us instead of my own bunk in the room I shared with my brother.  I lay there knowing absolutely that Fox had decided it was time he know all about my history, and that Mark would continue to spill the beans until there were no beans left in the can. I fell asleep waiting for him to come upstairs.

Fox woke me up the next morning and told me to do push-ups until my arms went rubbery, then announced that we were going for a hike.  My legs were already sore from last night when he put the backpack on me.  The pack was filled with a gallon of water, some free weights and two dumbbells.  I understood  it was not going to be a stroll in the park.  Oh yeah, it was during that hike that I learned that Fox had nicknamed his own penis, "Monster."  I think my fetish for outdoor sex probably has it's origins in my many hikes, camp outs, canoe trips, and nights in the tree house with Fox.

And, except for a few campouts I will get around to telling you about, that was how much of my last summer at home went. 

Mark had a job.  Once Fox, more or less, moved in Mark spent more and more nights with Ray, often in the tree house.  Fox also started working part time for my father.  Mom worked nights and slept during the day, except Sunday mornings when she inevitably went to church and drug us along with her despite the fact I had already come to other conclusions about religion.  Forcing me to participate in her belief system only confirmed my growing convictions about the duplicity of religious people.  To this day, I have no doubt that her love for Jesus was greater than any love she might have mustered for her husband or her sons.  Which may be why she inevitably lost us all. 

Citrus Squeeters

Fox dedicated all of his time to teaching me how to take a punch, which was as much about getting past my fear as actually learning how to absorb  blow, how to fight and getting me in fighting condition which I discovered was a radically different routine than preparing for a swim meet.  I took all sorts of supplements, but my squeeter didn't grow even a millimeter larger.  I also learned that summer that squeeter, when not being used as slang for a small dick, was a small plastic straw people stick into an orange to sip the juice directly from a fruit.  But it didn't really matter.  Fox loved my little squeeter exactly as it was, and he even loved to sip my juice.

All that exercise, and the martial arts training did change me.

And it changed my senior year completely.

Muscle Boy 1996