After The Battle
After The Battle
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by [CARL DICKSON](mailto:fisherman@iname.com?subject=After The Battle)
Does your mother know you're reading this shit?
Warning: This story is PORNO. I have tried my hand at friction, now I'm trying fiction. This story contains vivid descriptions of sexual activity between men and teen boys.
It contains no truth, partial truth, or half truth. What it does contain is stroking material. If this kind of story turns you off, or offends you, please find something else.
The author does not encourage or condone sex between adults and underage children.
If you are underage, or if this is illegal where you are, then please go away. If you're under 18, Adios come back when it is legal for you to read this smut.
If you lied about your age in order to access this story, remember this is our story. Life doesn't always work out like a story.
This story is copyrighted, ©2006 It is therefore illegal to copy or use any part of this story without my written permission.
You may find interest in these stories by Carl Dickson:
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I have had one miserable, fucked up life. I'm laying here, covered in my own blood and I can see my legs. One is mutilated monkey meat laying about ten feet to right. What looks like it my have been my right leg is off to my left, maybe four or five feet away. I'm surprised, there is no pain. The pain is in my heart. I am not where I am supposed to be and I am alone. Both are major infractions. I know I am not gong to live through this. If by some miracle I should be found my First Sgt. will have my ass, then kill me.
I guess this is the best, all around. I'll tell you my story, for what ever good it will do. I figured out that I was one of those fags that everybody hates and loved to beat on. This discovery came as a revelation to me when I was thirteen.
My best friend in the whole world is, was, a kid named Mark. Mark and I had been buddies since the first grade. We kind of discovered life together. Two inquisitive boys looking for adventure. At about the age of ten we discovered the joy of touching each other's penis. I mean we had been buds for like four years. We slept at each other's homes. We took baths together. We played naked under the garden hose in Mark's back yard while his mother took pictures. She has hundreds of pictures of the two of us with our arms around each other's shoulders and staring at the camera, stark naked. In many of the pictures we were both boned, although neither of us knew it or knew what it was about.
Mark liked to sleep naked so we slept at his house more than mine. My mother has this Puritan attitude to life. I am surprised that she allows me to get naked to take a bath. I have often wondered if she knows that I am naked under my clothes. I asked her one time what I was wearing when I was born. When she told me I was naked, I feigned surprise and disgust. She ate it up. She thinks that shit is for real.
Well anyway, boys grow up. One night we got naked early. Neither of us was sleepy so we started to wrestle with each other. More and more often we began to come into contact with each other's private areas. It seemed as if Mark was deliberately copping a feel. We had moved from the floor to the bed as we tried to best each other and somehow we managed to knock the door open.
Usually this would have been no big deal but at this one particular time we each had a handful of cock and balls. Being pre-pubescent both of us only had little boy cocks of about two inches. Mark's dad was in the bathroom and as he exited he could plainly see what we were doing. Mark's mom joined his dad, whether he called her or she just came up we don't know. His dad stood in the doorway smiling at us for a minute then told us to come to the kitchen for some ice cream. We started to look for our pants but he told us to stay naked. He said that we were going to talk.
Both of us were sorta scared. Mark's parents were great and they had never even yelled at us. We both got spankings from his folks when we screwed up and it hurt like hell but we knew we had done wrong. We weren't sure if this was a spanking offense or not since we were going to get ice cream. We got to the kitchen as Mark's mom set three bowls of strawberry ice cream with two cookies each on the table. Mark's dad sat down and dragged a bowl before him. Mark's mom kissed both Mark and I then told us she was going to go to the other room and let the guy's talk.
Mark's dad waved us to the ice cream saying something about it melting. He makes all kinds of ice cream from scratch. I have watched him cook his milk and eggs, then he adds big chunks of fresh fruit and puts it in his Donvier, a ice cream maker that you have to crank, but no ice or salt. Then he scoops it out in to containers and puts them in the freezer. They always have several kinds of ice cream and Mark and I love to eat it.
The ice cream was disappearing as Mark's dad sat and stared at us. We didn't know what was going on. He was smiling at us but he kept looking at us. When the ice cream was gone he told Mark to stand up in his chair. He walked over and inspected every square inch of Mark. He looked under his arms. He had Mark bend over and looked up at his ass. He stuck his finger against Mark's ass hole. I was about to get the identical treatment so I thought that I would tell you that that felt awesome.
He picked up Mark's super hard boi stick and moved his fingers up and down on it. He pulled Mark's foreskin back letting me see the head of his cock for the first time ever. It was as red as the strawberries in the ice cream but was about the size, and looked like, a plump, red cherry. Mark winced as his dad played around with the head of his cock. Then he fondled his balls before moving on down and checking out Mark's feet.
I was next and I got the exact same treatment. My body began to shake and I felt all weak and as if I really had to pee when Mark's dad played with my cock head. He looked me in the eye as I began to shake and I said I had to pee. He smiled at me and told me I didn't but to wait for it. He said I was about to feel the best I have ever felt in my life. My body just kept on getting more and more tense and my cock was feeling so good. Mark's dad swirled his finger around in the bowl and got it covered with melted ice cream. He placed his finger against my ass hole again, only this time it was different. He pushed his finger inside of me.
I was on the edge of something. I had never even heard of what was happening to me but I never wanted it to stop. When his finger went in my ass it hurt like hell but he touched something inside of me that turned me on so much. I began to hump on his finger causing it to go in and out. I was pumping my dick into his hand. He wiggled his finger in my butt and hit that one spot over and over. Suddenly everything went black.
I could see and hear nothing. Everything in my little world was swirling around in my stomach and rushing to my cock. My toes tingled my knees collapsed. I almost fell down but the man's strong hands held me upright as my body jerked and such wonderful sensations rushed through me. It was over in much less time than it has taken me to tell you about it. I wanted to do it again.
He smiled at me and told us that maybe he should do Mark as he didn't get that real good feel good feeling that I did. He helped me from the chair but he showed me some white stuff on his finger. He told me to smell it. It smelled awful, like old piss and sweat. He told me it was smegma and .that I needed to pull my skin back when I pee and that I should wash my penis everyday, with the skin held back. I was embarrassed but he pulled me into a hug and told me that he knew that I had never been taught these things since I was being raised by a single woman.
When I joined the Army I found out that I don't have a dad. My mother was gang raped when she was fourteen. I am a product of that rape. Her folks did not believe in baby murder and they looked at me as a gift from God and didn't put me up for adoption. Mom's folks died when I was still real little and it has just been the two of us for as long as I can remember.
Mark was on the chair and trying his best to stand up after his dad made him feel like I had just felt. He made us sit down as he explained our first orgasms. He told us about growing up and wet orgasms and junk. What he really said that Mark and I grabbed onto was that young boys are curious and wanted to find out about the body that we lived in. He told us the best way that boys throughout all time had found to know what they felt like, looked like, and liked to do was to get with another boy and mess around.
He told us about blow jobs and butt fucking. He told us about jacking off. He told us that jacking off with a buddy felt so much better than doing it by ourselves. He told us that if we were going to keep on running around naked with each other that we would start trying to touch each other. He was sure that we would probably suck each other before to many days passed by but he told me that I should clean myself up first.
He took me aside and we talked in private then he took me to the bathroom to wash my ass and cock. He said I was pretty skanky and he knew that I had taken a bath with Mark earlier. He said I really needed to keep clean. He told me that my body would change in a few more years and I would really start to stink then everybody would know that I didn't clean myself very well.
After he showed me how to wash my BBC --butt, balls, and cock-- he called Mark in. He told us to take a long hot shower together. He looked at both of us and smiled as he told us that it was nice to have a friend to wash your back for you but that it didn't have to stop with the back. Mark was as hard as I was. We stepped into the shower and began to lather up. Mark asked me if I would wash his hair. He told me that he loved to have his hair washed and to use my finger nails to scratch his head as I went. He did the same for me and I have to say that for the next eight years I never washed my own hair.
Well curiosity be damned, we had permission. We made sure the door was shut. The first thing we had to do was to see what cock tasted like. Mark confessed to me that he had been wanting to taste my cock for two years but was afraid that I would get mad. We both had heard the other boys talk about cock suckers being fags. There was no way that we wanted to be fags. We made a pact that we would never tell anyone what we were doing.
We helped each other to several more dry cums that night and for the next several weeks. A month before my eleventh birthday Mark's dad had us come and eat ice cream with him again. We ate ice cream with him all of the time but this was one of those sex talks again. We had kind of noticed but didn't voice it. My cock had grown to a little over three and a half inches. My balls had dropped and were about the size of dried beans.
I was rapidly headed to puberty and Mark's dad wanted to be sure that Mark and I would still be friends. I guess he thought that I would tease Mark because he was so small. I could not do that. By that time I knew that I was in love with Mark. He was so much more than my best friend. That night was the first time I kissed Mark. I asked his dad about kissing and he told us that if two people really love each other, a kiss was the best way to show that love. He said kissing and sex just kinda went together.
Mark and I both had a very intense orgasm as we shared our first hot kiss. I have never gotten enough of his small sweet body. Six months later and I was having wet cums. Just a tiny drop would ooze out but the feelings as my balls pumped that stuff to my prostate to be ejaculated out of my body. I actually tasted of it first but once Mark got a taste of it that was it. He wanted me to be his milk man and deliver quarts of fresh cream to him daily.
By thirteen Mark had an impressive four inch cock. It was skinny but I so loved to suck it. I told him I had waited until he was big enough because I wanted him to go first. We had talked to his dad and studied web sites so we knew what to do. I gave Mark my cherry ass and I fell in love with him all over again. I could never conceive of us ever being separated. We got outed in jr. high but made it through unscathed. We were thicker than thieves through high school but no one seemed to care. It never came up about our being lovers or gay.
We both dated girls so that we could do all of the social shit that went on. We enjoyed our dates and I am pretty sure that the girls enjoyed themselves. But after the party was over and the kisses on the front door steps of our girlfriend's house it was time for Mark and I to go home and fuck each other's brains out, which we did, every time.
By our senior year I was a half a head taller and fifty pounds heavier than Mark. I have thick, dark hair to Mark's fine, blonde hair. My dark brown eyes contrast to his periwinkle blue. I have no idea what periwinkle is. I just heard it one time and I love to tease Mark. One place that I can't tease him is his man meat. He was at five foot seven our senior year and carried about a hundred and twenty two pounds on his size ten feet. But he swung a nice five inch flaccid cock that many guys ogled in the locker room but only I knew that it grew to a sweet thick eight incher with a full compliment of tasty baby batter that preferred my infertile orifices for their final receptacle.
War in Iraq was going on and I had a lot of opinions about the politics of it. I couldn't wait to enlist and get over there. I kept telling Mark that we needed to get a set of towels for his dad. Mark's mom got sick and died when we were fourteen. Mark took it really hard. I had to work hard to keep him from his depression. I had no idea how depressed he could get.
One day the Army recruiters came to our school. I was so excited and I tried to drag Mark with me as I talked to this one dude. He helped me to get all of paper work done and had me come to his office for a whole bunch of tests. He said that I could have my choice of any number of jobs. He told me that I was officer material and that maybe I should go to college first. I told him that I wanted to fight and help bring peace and happiness to the Iraqi people who had been suppressed for so long.
After my meeting I stopped by Mark's house. Mark was on the phone giggling and talking all sweet like. I guessed he was talking to a girl. I was shocked. Mark wanted nothing to do with me after that. He told me that he had grown up and was going to find a girl and get married and give his father grandchildren.
I was crushed. Just like that our friendship was over. Mark hardly talked to me at all. He was always with one girl of another and always seemed so happy. The girls all looked down their noses at me and kind of silent like I could just hear their thoughts, "He's mine now, faggot."
I stayed away. School was almost over so I spent nearly every afternoon at the recruiters office. I talked to several kids from my school and from other schools and told them how much I wanted to go to Iraq and help my country men show a better way of life to that backward nation. I was delusional but I didn't know it.
The day came for me to ship out. I begged Mark to come and see me off. His dad brought him to the bus station but he had a girl with him. They had their arms around each other and she kept kissing him. He didn't talk to me. He just stood there as I tried to say goodbye and flirted with the girl. I was about to loose it. I said goodbye to his dad and my mom and got on the bus. I sat on the opposite side so that I didn't have to look at Mark anymore.
I buried my face and cried all the way to the town where I was to join up with several other guys and take a special bus to the camp where I would do basic training. They sent me to Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri. It was hot, dirty, and just plain fucked up. I had to get into a killing mood so that I could put Mark behind me.
I was asked several times about taking this job or that but I kept on that I wanted a plain old 111 MOS, basic infantry man. After basic I was sent to Fort Rucker, Alabama. They tried to put me into a language school. I told them that I had enlisted for infantry. Two days later I was shipped out to Fort Bennings, Georgia. There I joined an outfit that was due to ship out in mid-August for Iraq. I was happy.
Dreams are a long way from reality. I found nothing in Iraq like I had envisioned it. Sure, there was lots of desert but the people didn't like Americans. A few were nice enough if we were spending money but I didn't know who I could befriend.
I met this one guy that was about my age and he seemed nice enough. He always asked questions about where I was staying and what I ate. Where I ate and when. I liked the guy and didn't think anything wrong until one day he ran into our mess tent with a bomb around his waist. It didn't go off, which I was glad for. I didn't want to see him die and I sure didn't want my buddies to die.
As he was taken away he looked at me and cursed me in Arabic. I won't tell you what he said but someone who spoke his language told me that he called his god to...oh well. Anyway, that's why I am here today. I came back to the place where he and I had gone before. I wanted to see his mother. I had to let her know how sorry I was. The house was deserted and booby trapped.
Six months later I was in another hospital.. Constantly, one hospital after another. I was sent back to the states before Christmas. I slept most of the time. I had no desire to live. I was being treated for serious depression and was kept under twenty four hour suicide watch. I felt someone touch my face and my hand was in someone else's. I opened my eyes and stared into Mark's eyes.
Mark was crying. He kept looking around at all of the other men in the beds near me. I was in a ward with nine other men. Mark pulled his chair up real close and helped me get to the edge of the bed so that my ear was inches from his mouth. I am such an asshole. I lay and cried my eyes out as he told me his story.
Mark never recovered from his mother's death. She meant so much to him. He was in such depression. I did everything I could think of to bring him out of his slump. He did come out and was almost like his old self. For nearly three years we were so happy. We talked about going to college together and living together for the rest of our lives. We talked to his dad and he was behind us, all of the way. He wished us well.
I fucked it up. I destroyed Mark's perfect world. I wanted to go into a war zone and get myself killed and he would have nobody. He couldn't handle the thought of me dying. He decided to end our friendship and try to be somebody he could never be. He made himself believe that if I was killed and we were no longer friends he could live on. The problem was, he was so much in love with me that he couldn't put me out of his mind.
He never had sex, with anyone. He just couldn't bring himself to let go. He sought counseling but fought all of the help that was offered him. His dad tried to let him have his own way but he could see that Mark was losing his battle. After Mark left the bus station he quit living. He was sure that I would never come home again. He wouldn't work. He only ate when he could no longer take the pains of hunger.
His dad tried to get the counselors to commit him but he was not to the point that they could do that yet. He was on a self destructive course but so far the only thing he had done was to loose so much weight that he looked like a walking skeleton.
Mark and I were both crying. A nurse came and told him that maybe he should leave that he was upsetting me. I lied to her and told her that I was telling him about something that had happened to me while I was away. It was partial truth but she let it go. She said that Mark would be asked to leave and not come back if we couldn't change the subject.
Mark changed the subject with his next sentence, a question actually. He asked me if I would come and live with him and let him take care of me for the rest of my life. He had enrolled in courses for physical therapy as soon as he heard about my losing both legs. He was trying to learn everything he could so that he would be able to provide for me. He had talked to some people at the VA hospital where I was staying and they had helped him to lay out a study plan.
He was going to start doing some volunteer work at the VA hospital near our town. I would be going there for treatment after I was released from this hospital. He told me that he and his dad were remodeling their house, just for me.
Today is my nineteenth birthday. Mark and his dad picked me up at the hospital. I had a day pass and had to go back in the evening. Mark wanted me to see where I would be living. I have seen his house all of my life. I know it better than I know my own. Mark is eating and gaining his weight back. He is working out and is really buffing that beautiful bod of his.
He picked me up with little effort and put me in a wheel chair. He pushed me up a ramp to his front door from the driveway. There was a new door at the front of his house. This one was wider. The furniture was thinned out to allow plenty of room for my chair to maneuver. The door into the hallway was widened as was the bedroom door.
I had to look. The bedroom door had been moved. There was no bathroom door now. Once inside what would be Mark's and my room my eyes flooded with tears. If ever, oh ever, I had thought that Mark did not love me this room showed how wrong I was.
There was a nice king sized bed set against the wall where Mark and I had slept together for years. There was a wide lift chair for me to slide into with ease. A computer desk was made for a wheelchair to roll in under it.
The bathroom door had been replaced by a wide accesses to dual lavatories one at wheelchair height and one to stand at. The toilet was equipped with grab bars so that I could slide across. The shower was designed to roll into or I could slide onto a bench. There was a therapy table with weights and pulleys for me to work out with. Mark had even built an area for me to be able to put on my prosthetic legs, unaided, should I desire.
My man did love me but I have a problem to this day. I don't know who loves whom the most. I will walk on my bloody stubs to help this man in any way that I can. He so into me, my care, my attitude. He constantly looks for any signs that something may not be right as he thinks of only me.
I searched the computer world that I had always considered a world for nerds and geeks. I learned so much about life and what was really out there. I have a good income from the Army but I still need something for my mind. I think that I found my niche. Nobody knows who's dick I am the son of. No one was ever brought to account for my mother's rape so there are no records of those involved. My only hope of ever knowing who I am is if my sperm donor gives up his DNA and some smart technician somewhere ties us together. Till then I just tell everybody that I am a Dick's son who writes homosexual pornography. SNIFOC
[fisherman@iname.com](mailto:fisherman@iname.com?subject=After The Battle)
SNIFOC