Wild Jack's

By MarkJames  (pennandquill@aol.com)

Story Down Loaded from the internet

Illustrated by SamBear

“That’s it boy. 

Suck that dick like your life depended on it,” Spike said, holding Carl by his silky blonde hair.

The boy was on his knees, with his shorts down around his ankles.

Spike got off on seeing his smooth naked ass while his pretty lips were wrapped around his dick.

Spike held him still and fucked his face slowly.

“You don’t know what it’s like boy. 

Living up here in the asshole end of nowhere; with nothing to look at outside but the fucking snow. 

And nothing to look at come night time ‘cept the ugly mug on the guy in the next bunk.”

Carl knew all right.

The oil workers were big hard men. They braved the cold and ice everyday, depending on each other for their lives.

Come Friday night, they wanted a little fun with a pretty boy. 

Women didn’t come around the camp.

“You better do a good job boy,” Spike said, digging his fingers deeper into Carl’s hair and pumping his big dick faster and faster into his face.

“That’s it boy hold still. I’m gonna come in your mouth just like a pussy,” Spike said, shoving his dick deep down the boy’s throat.

“Here comes my load faggot and you better not spill a fucking drop,” he said, the force of his thrusts pushing the small boy into the corner of the bathroom stall.

He came like that, every thrust pushing Carl’s head hard into the wall behind him.

He was relieved when Spike finally let him go and dropped seventy-five dollars on the floor. “Great job faggot. You suck dick better than a bitch,” he said stuffing his huge dick back into his pants.

Carl pulled his shorts up and went back to waiting tables. Three waiters worked the bar tonight. Friday nights were always busy.

Out in the bar, the man sitting alone in the corner watched as first Spike came out of the bathroom and then in a little while, Carl. He’d been waiting ‘til he saw Carl again to get another drink.

He signaled the boy for another beer, wondering if the man had fucked his ass or his face. Carl brought the beer over and set the glass down.

A little slopped over onto the table. “Clean that up boy,” the stranger said. His voice was low and deep in the back of his throat, like a growl. “Sloppy work pisses me off.”

Carl hurried to clean up the mess. This guy looked like no one to fuck with.

Trent watched the boy’s ass move. He was bare-chested and his denim cutoffs barely covered his smooth bubble butt. Carl could feel the man’s dark eyes boring into him as he cleaned up the mess. He stole a look at him out of the corner of his eye.

His weathered face had fought a lot of long hard winters. He was big and bulky, like all the men in Wild Jack’s. The rolled up sleeves of his dark red flannel shirt showed his bulging biceps and his huge forearms. But this guy was different from the big clumsy men who were the bar’s

regulars. There was a stillness about him that bordered on arrogance. A hard coldness that was like the land he worked – mysterious, alluring. It was in the way he sat, the way he looked Carl up and down with naked need and desire. He controlled everything he did, and did nothing he couldn’t control completely. It was all or nothing with him.

Carl was irresistibly drawn to that stillness.

A little beer spilled onto the crotch of the man’s jeans. Carl couldn’t help but notice the bulge outlined by the wetness.

The man grabbed his small arm in his huge hand and pulled Carl close enough for him to see the beer stuck in his mustache. He saw a cold hard glint in those dark eyes that made his dick push against his tight shorts.

“You’re a bad waitress boy. I oughta make you lick that shit up. You suck dick any better than you serve beer faggot?”

Trent saw fear mixed with desire in the boy’s eyes, and his cock started rising to the occasion. He squeezed his arm harder. It would be good to fuck a pretty boy whose ass was all broken in.

“Yes Sir.” Carl smiled nervously, trying to ignore the pain in his arm. “You wanna meet me in the last stall?” There was something about this guy that made Carl feel something he’d never felt before.

You could tell a mile away that he’d take what he wanted, and afterward you’d be begging for more. “You fucking stupid bitch!” Spike’s loud bellow carried across the small bar over the voices of the drunken men. They were used to Spike’s tantrums.

Everyone ignored him. Except Carl. He knew Spike was coming for him. Spike stormed across the bar, moving through the men in his way like a mini-tornado . “Uh oh,” one of the men over at the pool table said. “That faggot’s about to get his ass kicked.”

Their drunken laughs were like far off thunder – loud and booming – but harmless.

Spike grabbed Carl’s arm and dragged him out of Trent’s grasp over to the dim light near the bar. “Something wrong Sir?” Carl said. His voice trembled like Jello on a violent sea. “You damn right boy. Look at that,” he said, pointing at a white cum stain on his tight black jeans. “I fucking told you to be careful!” he screamed into Carl’ face, and backhanded him hard across the face. The petite boy was no match for Spike’s bulk. He flew across the room like a rag doll and landed at Trent’s feet.

Carl turned his back to the wall and saw Spike bearing down on him like a bull chasing after a red flag.

“Is there a problem friend?” Trent said, standing up. He looked Spike in the eyes with the calm of a man who’s met death eye to eye.

“Yeah there’s a goddamn problem. This fucking faggot needs to learn a lesson. I told the bitch to be careful,” he said, reaching down to drag Carl out of the corner.

“Well maybe he could just apologize,” Trent said, moving in front of Carl. He seemed oblivious to the other man’s rage. “Look Mister, why don’t you just mind your own fucking business,” Spike said eyeing the stranger. “You’ll stay healthy like that.”

Trent shrugged. “I ain’t no health freak. How ‘bout you friend?”

This guy had pissed him off. Yeah, the boy was a faggot, but that wasn’t a reason to beat him up for fun on a Friday night.

Everyone in the bar was watching. This was the best entertainment they’d had in months. No one ever went up against Spike; he was built like an ox. “He’s a salad man,” a drunken voice yelled out, making all the men break out in loud drunken laughter.

The two men faced each other like bears about to wrestle. They were evenly matched in size and strength. But Trent radiated that stillness Carl had sensed earlier – like the controlled power of a sleek panther on the hunt.

Spike drew back his ham-sized fist and struck out, but Trent ducked him easily. The two men went down and rolled around on the dirty floor and when they came up, Trent’s huge muscled arm was wrapped around Spike’s neck. He was gasping, struggling just to breathe.

Carl held back a dark smile. “There you bastard,” he thought. Spike had beaten him up more times than he could count. “There. Now you know how it feels.” “Now I’m not a violent man,” Trent said in the calm, neutral voice of someone discussing the weather. “But that boy was serving me a beer and you interrupted him. I think you owe the waitress over there an apology,” he said, ignoring Spike’s frantic struggles.

“Fuck you,” Spike said in a strangled voice. “I’ve never killed a man,” Trent said, talking slowly, like someone with all the time in the world. “But you keep pissing me off and come the summer thaw, they’re gonna find your sorry ass floating in the river out back.”

His grasp tightened around Spike’s neck, making his face almost purple with rage and humiliation. “Sorry,” he managed to gasp. “Now let me the fuck go asshole.”

Trent let him drop to the floor.

“You okay kid?” he asked, turning to the blonde boy cowering in the corner. “Yeah, sure, I’m fine,” Carl said, hating the tremor in his voice. “Here,” Trent said, handing the boy his beer. “You look like you need this more than I do.”

“I don’t need nothing,” Carl said, turning to go. He was embarrassed and humiliated that a hard man like the stranger had seen him cowering in a corner like a scared little boy. “Sure kid, whatever you say. But I think your buddy Spike over there is just itching to rearrange your pretty face,” he said, looking over at the bar.

Spike was sitting on a stool seething, just waiting for Trent to leave. Trent turned to go, and Carl saw Spike getting down from his barstool. “Hey Mister,” he yelled after Trent. “Yeah kid?” Trent said, turning back to him . “You think maybe you could give me a ride someplace?”

“Sure thing boy. Let’s go,” he said, and Carl followed him out into the howling night wind that blew bitterly cold.

Outside, driving down the lonely highway, Carl watched the aurora borealis lights chase across the night sky.

When Trent’s hand stole into his crotch, he spread his legs, and gave himself up to the darkly lit night.

The ride up to Trent’s cabin seemed to take forever, like they had somehow fallen into a place out of time. The road took them on a winding path up through the mountains with only the northern lights to show the way.

Carl somehow knew that he had left his life at the bar behind him forever.

When they finally got there, Carl got out of the truck and Trent practically dragged him through the snow. He unlocked the front door, letting the warm air out into the cold, dark night. “Get in there, faggot,” he said, and pushed Carl roughly inside.

“Get in there, faggot,” he said, and pushed Carl roughly inside.

Carl was beginning to have second thoughts despite himself. His dick was hard and he wanted more than anything for this guy to fuck him, but something in Trent had changed.

Carl backed up a step when he came through the door after him. That hard coldness he’d sensed at the bar wasn’t under cover anymore.

Trent walked by Carl, ignoring him, and started stacking wood in the huge stone fireplace built into one wall of the cabin.

“Take your clothes off faggot,” Trent said without turning around. Carl stood still, not sure what to do. His throbbing cock was rock hard, but at twenty-two, he’d seen a lot, and he was a pretty smart kid. Suddenly coming home with a stranger in the middle of the night didn’t seem like such a good idea.

The boy’s fear and desire intoxicated Trent. He was gonna have some serious fun with this slut tonight whether he liked it or not.

He let him stand there a minute until he got the fire going. When it was blazing strong and high, he got up and walked over to Carl. Without a word, he unzipped the boy’s shorts and pulled them down. “Turn around and bend over on your knees bitch.” Carl obeyed, relieved. Good. All this guy apparently wanted was to fuck his ass. Maybe after that, he wouldn’t be so wired.

The boy’s ass was round and smooth. When Trent finished with him, it would be red and welted. Trent took off his thick leather belt and doubled it.

He grabbed hold of Carl’s balls and squeezed. He groaned in pain and tried to struggle.

“Maybe you got a hearing problem boy. I fucking told you to get naked,” Trent said and brought the strap down hard on his smooth ass as he tightened his grip on the boy’s balls. Carl yelped and struggled violently.

Oh fuck, he’d swapped one psycho for another one. “Stay the fuck still faggot or I’ll pull these goddamn things off. I don’t even see what you need them for anyway, you cock sucking bitch,” he said, yanking on his balls.

He brought the strap down one more time, hard enough to make Carl scream. But he didn’t. He grunted and whimpered softly.

The pain in his balls and on his sore ass was horrendous, but his cock was so hard it hurt. That stillness radiated from Trent even now. It felt like a powerful animal lived under his skin, straining to get out. That immense controlled power gave him a strange kind of high. He was afraid and it hurt like hell. But in his head the pain felt good, like a drug, and he wanted more. Trent looked at the two red welts rising on the boy’s ass already. He was gonna fuck this masochist slut good and hard, but not yet. “Turn around whore.”

Carl turned around on his knees and looked up at Trent. Carl’s dick was rock hard and now there was more desire than fear in his blue eyes. “Get naked bitch,” Trent ordered. He watched with hungry eyes as the boy slowly took off his t-shirt and shorts. His pink nipples were hard on his smooth hairless chest. His silky blonde hair fell just past his ears and his pink lips came together in a delicious pout. He was aching to strap this boy’s ass for real and fuck him hard. “You feel that boy?” he said, pulling Carl by the hair and rubbing his face roughly into his bulging crotch. “You’re gonna take all that up your ass tonight and you’re gonna love it no matter how hard I give it to you. Aren’t you faggot?” he said letting go and slapping Carl’s face hard. The blow rocked Carl and took his breath away, but he managed to stay on his knees. “Yes Sir,” he said, his hand going to the side of his face. “Don’t worry bitch. I won’t mess up that pretty boy face. Not as long as you do what you’re told. You piss me off and I’ll carve it up like a road map.”

Carl was silent, but his heart galloped hard in his chest. He knew Trent meant every word. “Anyone fuck your ass yet tonight?”

Carl looked up at him with the desperate look of a cornered animal. Suddenly he didn’t want to be just another whore. He wanted to be Trent’s whore. He wanted to be able to say, ‘No Sir, you’re my first.’ But Carl’s days of being a virgin were long gone. Trent sensed his fear and desperation.

“It’s alright faggot. I know you’re a fucking whore.” He stepped even closer to Carl and pulled him by the hair until his head was pulled back painfully as far as it would go. “How many faggot?” Trent’s eyes bored into him, through him. There was no escaping those twin knives stabbing deep into the heart of him.

“Two Sir,” he said, closing his eyes against silent tears. “You know what you need boy?” Trent said, letting go. “No Sir,” Carl said, his eyes on the floor. “A bath,” Trent said. Upstairs in the bathroom, Carl was kneeling obediently at Trent’s feet with his round willing ass high up in the air. His head rested on the floor on his hands. “You stay just like that boy while I run a nice hot bath for you,” Trent said, opening the pipe and letting the hot water run into the huge bathtub. He put the rubber plug in the drain, thinking of what it was gonna feel like to plug his new boy’s ass. “I’m gonna have to clean up that whore ass boy. Who knows how many of those nasty fuckers really had your ass tonight,” he said reaching for the enema bag already filled with warm soapy water. “Please sir, only two, I swear,” Carl said, not daring to move or even look up. He shot a terrified glance at the huge enema bag. “Shut the fuck up faggot,” Trent said, slapping Carl’s vulnerable ass hard with his big calloused hand. “I’m gonna put this hose inside your faggot ass, and you moan and cry all you want but you better not move even a muscle. You got that whore?” His huge paw came down hard on Carl’s reddening ass again. “Yes Sir,” Carl said miserably, his head hanging between his arms. Trent put the hose in slowly, and then raised the bag higher and higher, letting gravity fill the boy’s asshole. Carl felt the warm water pouring into him and only his fear of what Trent would do to him if he disobeyed kept him from moving. “You like that water going up your faggot ass getting you all nice and clean for me bitch?”

Carl was sweating. Small droplets lined his forehead. “No Sir,” Carl said, fighting desperately to stay still. “Wrong answer faggot,” Trent said, taking out the hose and replacing it with a butt plug. “Here’s what happens to faggots who give the wrong answer around here,” he said, bringing his thick leather belt down hard on Carl’s ass. Carl hissed in breath. His insides felt like he was gonna bust. The cramping pain in his gut became his universe and Trent was God in his universe of pain. “Let’s try it again. You like your enema faggot?”

“Yes Sir,” Carl said, crying silently now. There was no sense fighting anymore. The pain would go on and on until Trent decided it was time for it to stop. “Good answer bitch,” Trent said, unzipping his pants. The sound of total surrender in Carl’s voice gave him an electric rush of pure desire. Nothing mattered to Carl now except pleasing Trent and giving him all the right answers. “Turn around and get over here you little cock sucking bitch!”

Trent’s hard throbbing dick was sticking out of his unzipped pants. He was long and thick and even through the cramping pain, Carl ached for the feel of that cock pounding up his tight hole. “Here’s your reward faggot. Suck my fucking dick you little whore,” he said, grabbing Carl by the hair and shoving his dick deep down his throat. Carl’s lips felt good wrapped around his hard, aching dick. He could see tears trailing down the boy’s cheeks. But when he looked up at Trent and their eyes met for an instant, Trent saw Carl’s naked need to be owned and used like a bitch. Fire raced through his blood and he fought the urge to just rip out the plug and fuck him hard enough to make him bleed. Instead, he grabbed him by the hair and fucked his face hard. “You know what bitch?” he said, pumping his thick dick hard into the back of the boy’s mouth. “If I don’t take that plug out pretty soon, your tiny little insides will just bust wide open and it’d kill you. Not quick either,” he said, fucking his face slow now. “Uh uh. You’d take a good long time dying like that.” Carl panicked and suddenly the cramps seemed three times worse than just a second ago. “You know what that means boy?” Trent said, sinking himself to the hilt in Carl’s mouth. 

His throat was fucking bottomless. “It means I fucking own your life, doesn’t it faggot?” he said, easing himself out of the boy’s mouth. “Yes Sir,” Carl said, the cramps were so bad now, he trembling. “And since I own your life, that makes you my fucking faggot slave, doesn’t it boy?”

“Yes Sir,” Carl said. Trent grabbed his hair and forced his huge cock down his aching throat. The thought of truly belonging to someone like Trent made the pain seem like a red hot heat burning the man’s will into him, completely obliterating any will of his own. “Who does your life belong to boy?” Trent demanded, pulling his dick of the boy whore’s mouth. “To you Sir,” Carl said. “What does that make you boy?” he said grabbing Carl’s hair and forcing him to look up into his hard eyes. “Your faggot slave Sir,” Carl said, meeting those dark eyes. Trent let go. The cramps were making his petite body shake from head to toe and tears tracked down his soft cheeks. When Carl’s mouth reached blindly through his tears for Trent’s rock hard cock again, his need to fuck his beautiful masochist ass roared through him, like wildfire, making his nerve endings hum with raw animal lust. “Bend over boy,” Trent said. Carl bent over obediently, even though it hurt horribly. “Listen to me faggot,” Trent said and put a soothing hand on Carl’s trembling ass. “I’m gonna take this plug out now and don’t even think of letting it out ‘til you get on the toilet. You hear me?”

“Yes Sir,” Carl said. “Thank you Sir,” he said. He was grateful because for the first time in his life he was exactly where he wanted to be. He took the plug out and Carl sprang up and got on the toilet. He was utterly humiliated that Trent stood there and watched while he relieved himself. Afterward, Trent gave him a long hot bath and washed his hair. “Don’t you feel better now with the stink of those drunks washed off you boy?” Trent said, when he’d finished drying Carl off. “Yes Sir,” Carl said. “Get downstairs boy. The fun’s about to start,” Trent said, smiling wickedly and flicking Carl’s naked ass with the wet towel. Downstairs, Carl sat in front of the roaring fire, wearing leather cuffs. He felt cleaner than he’d felt in years. It was like Trent’s enema and bath had washed away his years of being a whore for anyone with a dick and a dollar. “Crawl over here boy,” Trent said. He crawled over to Trent. When he’d gotten here tonight, two wrought iron lanterns had been hanging from the two black heavy duty hooks in the ceiling. Now, a long wrought iron bar hung by two thick black chains from those same hooks. Two open padlocks were attached to each chain, just above the bar. “Stand up faggot. Put your hands on the bar.” Trent used the pad locks to secure the rings on the leather cuffs to the bar. He passed his hands lightly over Carl’s naked body, paying special attention to his round smooth ass. He slipped two fingers inside the boy’s ass. His hungry hole practically sucked them in and Carl moaned softly. “Goddamn boy. You’re such a fucking whore I bet these fingers don’t even feel like nothing, do they faggot?” he said, slipping his fingers in and out of the boy’s tight, hungry hole. He reached around with his other hand and stroked the boy’s rock hard dick. Carl moaned louder and moved his hips to the rhythm of Trent’s hand. “Who owns you?” Trent hissed into his ear. “You do Sir,” Carl said, his dick throbbing and aching. “Please Sir, please just fuck me Sir, please,” Carl begged. Trent’s fingers slipped out of the boy’s ass and he gave his balls a hard squeeze. Carl cried out but said nothing. “Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to boy? One of those sad sack drunks back at the bar? I’ll fuck your ass all right. When your ass looks like the faggot slave you are, then I’ll fuck you hard and show you your goddamn place you fucking whore,” he said, giving his balls one last savage squeeze.

Carl screamed in agony. Trent stepped back, picked up the leather belt and brought it down hard on his ass over and over again. Carl’s head rested on one arm. His feet were wide apart and planted firmly on the ground. The belt left angry red welts on his ass with every blow. Carl tensed with every stroke of the thick, heavy leather belt. Each stroke filled his head with a red haze of pain that pushed everything else out. There was only the pain and him. It filled him, consumed him until he became nothing but the pain. Trent stuck his finger up Carl’s ass, and the boy moaned in ecstasy. He was desperate to get his ass fucked. “See what a whore you are? Your ass is all welted up and you still wanna get fucked don’t you?” he said, slipping another finger inside the boy’s greedy hole. “Yes Sir,” Carl said, not daring to beg for Trent’s cock up his ass. “You see now boy that I fucking own you?” Trent said, and slipped another finger inside Carl’s tight hole. The boy pushed his ass back to meet Trent’s fingers. “Yes Sir,” Carl said, breathing hard. “Please Sir,” he begged. He couldn’t help himself. “Please what boy?” Trent said, moving his fingers slowly in and out of Carl’s fuck hole. “Please give your faggot slave more of your leather belt Sir? Is that what you meant to say boy?”

“Yes Sir,” Carl said, pleasure roaring through him, making him almost dizzy. “Let me hear it whore,” Trent demanded, reaching around and squeezing Carl’s nipples while he fingered his ass. “Let me hear you beg for it like the slut you are.”

“Please Sir,” Carl said. “Please belt your faggot slave’s ass Sir,” he said, sticking his red, aching ass out for the belt. Trent brought the belt down on Carl’s ass again and again. The boy grunted and whimpered but he kept his ass out to receive every blow. With every welt he raised on Carl’s ass, the boy belonged more and more to him. His whimpering moans were as intoxicating to Trent as a fine, aged scotch. He ran his hand over the welts on the boy whore’s ass. He was whimpering and breathing hard and when Trent took his cock in his hand, the boy almost exploded.

“You want more boy?” Trent said. “Yes Sir, please Sir, whip your faggot slave’s ass Sir. Please,” Carl begged, sticking his ass out and moving it sensually from side to side. The sight of Carl’s welted ass sticking out, begging for more consumed Trent with the unbearable need to fuck his faggot ass. For Carl, it was like he’d been waiting all his twenty-two years for a beating like this from a man like Trent, whose still power was irresistible. Trent’s heart hammered in his chest like some wild drummer calling ancient Gods. His animal need to fuck his ass and own this masochist slut whipped through him like a primitive, savage hunger. He laid into the boy’s ass over and over again, showing him no mercy. Carl’s body hung limp and unresisting. He was inside the pain, floating in a pool of desire and need so deep it would never be fulfilled while he still lived and breathed. Carl’s whimpers became screams of agony and Trent could see that his delicate, abused ass was about to bleed. He made himself stop. Trent got the keys and undid the padlocks. Carl’s small body fell to his knees and he sobbed at Trent’s feet. He stroked the top of the boy’s head gently. Carl rubbed his tear- streaked face along the length of Trent’s throbbing cock. “You ready for me now boy? You ready to show me what a fucking cock sucking faggot slave you are?”

Carl answered by taking Trent’s thick tool into his mouth until it touched the back of this throat. He almost exploded right then and there. Trent couldn’t wait any longer. He pushed Carl roughly onto his back. “How does your ass feel boy?” Trent said, rubbing the head of his dick against the outside Carl’s hungry hole. “It hurts Sir.”

“Good. Rub your ass on the carpet you faggot whore. I wanna see you hurt yourself for me.”

Trent watched the boy rub his aching ass into the hard rough carpet while he lubed his throbbing tool with K-Y and got ready to give him the fucking of his young life Carl was crying softly again. “Hurts doesn’t it? Good. That’s how a whore’s ass should feel when he’s getting fucked,” Trent said, teasing Carl’s hole again. “After tonight boy, you’re gonna be my fucking whore,” he said and sank himself slowly into Carl’s tight hole. Carl moaned softly. His hole ached trying to take all of Trent’s incredibly thick cock. He fucked him hard, pulling all the way out, and then slamming his thick pole hard into him over and over again. Trent watched the boy squirming under him, grinding his aching ass into the rough carpet. “Play with that faggot whore cock boy. I wanna see you come like a dog after I whipped the shit out of you,” Trent said sinking into Carl’s hot hole again and again. He slapped the boy’s face. “Who fucking owns your ass now boy?”

Carl’s ass was on fire and Trent was fucking him like a demon. Yes, he fucking belonged to this man who could take what he wanted and give him what he needed. “You do Sir,” Carl said, moaning, panting hard. “What are you Carl?” Trent said, fucking him savagely. He slammed his cock into him, battering away the last shreds of his will. “Your faggot slave Sir,” Carl said, his hand sliding up and down his desperate, throbbing shaft. “That’s right boy. You’re a fucking animal who doesn’t even come without permission,” Trent said, plowing deep into Carl’s tight fuck hole. “You’re my animal now. I fucking own your faggot ass,” he said, grunting and using his powerful hips to slam his incredibly hard cock into Carl’s hot, aching asshole like a jackhammer. “Please Sir, please can I come Sir?” Carl begged desperately. “Go ahead, you desperate whore. Come like a dog after I beat your whore ass.” Carl exploded and bucked and thrashed. Trent couldn’t take it anymore. Seeing Carl come like that after he’d humiliated and abused him made his throbbing cock explode inside the boy’s tight hole. “You’re making me come, you fucking whore!” Trent said, shooting his load deep into Carl’s tight asshole. He slipped his dick out of the boy’s abused hole and drew him close. Carl rested his head on Trent’s powerful chest and reveled in the feeling of belonging to someone for the first time in his life. “Please don’t take me back, Sir,” he whispered, almost to himself. “Not on your life son,” Trent said. A small, contented smile crossed his face and he kissed the top of his new boy’s head as he gently stroked his silky, soft hair.

Feedback is everything to the writer. Please get back to him: pennandquill@aol.com