Runaway Choices 6 By Oneheavyhand


Keywords: mm(9), Mm, first time,

** Disclaimer **

Standard Disclaimer: This story contains sexually graphic and
explicit material and, as such, is not suitable for minors. If
you are a minor, please leave now as it is illegal for you to be
here. If it is illegal for you to read or view sexually explicit
material in the community you view such material, please leave
now. This story and characters are purely fictional and any
resemblance to events or persons (living or dead) is purely
coincidental. If you are offended by sexually explicit stories,
please read no further. If you are offended by stories featuring
group sex, bisexual situations, incest, sex between minors and
adults, or any other situation, please check the story codes
before reading the text. These stories are just that, stories,
and do not promote or condone the activities described herein,
especially when it comes to unsafe sexual practices or sex
between adults and minors.

** Disclaimer **

** Foreword **

  Thank you for reading part 6 of Runaway Choices, my continuing
story of where choices might take participants, both the prepared
and the unaware. In this installment I focus on Darrell and the
choices that started his journey from runaway to wealthy
gentleman.

** Foreword **

   Runaway Choices 6


  The eleven year old boy sat wild-eyed, his blond hair blowing
in the wind as the train approached the line of cars. The lights
streaming like ants to a sugar cube reminded him he was not yet
far enough from town to stop hiding. Moving back into the
darkness of the car he waited for the cars to disapear before
dropping his feet back over the edge. His feet kicking lazily as
he thought back.

  Just two hours before, Darrell had made up his mind to grab
what he could and run, run as far and as long as he could. To
leave home and his parents' fighting - fights his mother started
about the finances, or lack thereof and the fights his dad
started after coming home from drinking away a good portion of
what little money they had. He hated those fights, the ones that
led to his mother closing herself away in her bedroom. The ones
that ended with him listening to her crying through the wall
between his room and hers. The ones that brought his dad to his
room.

  At seven years old Darrell got up the nerve to confront his
dad, receiving the bruises his father had ever since given him.
His father’s backhand caught him on the side of the head,
knocking him into the dresser beside the door he had just stormed
through. Things only got worse when his dad lost his job at the
factory, his mom and he becoming the target of his dad's need to
lash out.

  Just after his ninth birthday, Darrell had gone down to the
fishing hole with one of his buddies to swim. It was summer and
the day bright and hot, the water cool and inviting. The boys had
skipped going home to get their swim trunks as neither boy
thought anything of skinny dipping together. That day, however,
as Darrell got out of the water his friend Allen looked at him
weird. Thinking something was wrong Darrell asked, "Something
crawling on me?"

  "Your thing, it’s all hard n stuff," Allen said, pointing down
at Darrell’s penis.

  "So?" Darrell asked, mystified by his friend's amazement.

  "Dad says that means you're in love."

  Darrell crunched his eyes and twisted his lips into a look of
disgust. "I Ain't in love with no one."

  "Mm hum, my dad don't lie."

  Seeing Allen’s penis harden as they talked Darrell pointed at
his friend and exclaimed, "So why's yours hard?"

  Allen put his hands over his face and ran up the embankment,
his white ass shining in the sun as he made for where the boys
had left their clothes. Now, Darrell was intrigued. Why had his
friend said that, and why had he run away? Heading after his
friend he was set on finding out.

  Darrell caught Allen before he had a chance to get more than
his undies on. The red Superman symbol greeted him as he came
over the rise, and he stopped with his hands on his hips. "What
was that about, Allen?"

  Allen continued dressing, looking over at Darrell once his
pants were on. "Dad said when that happens, it means the man
wants to have sex."

  "That can't be true.  You were hard too, and there ain't no
girls here."

  Allen looked down at the ground then turned and grabbed his
shirt. "That means we're gay then."

  "I aint gay!" Darrell said angrily.

  "Then why you still hard?" Allen asked as he pointed at
Darrell’s penis again.

  Darrell felt stumped. He knew Allen couldn't be right because
he really didn't know what Allen meant by saying they were gay.
Not sure what else to say Darrell asked, "What's gay anyway?"

  Allen took on the face of an older brother teaching his sibling
something new. He told Darrell that when two guys liked each
other and had sex together, then they were gay.

  "But we ain't never had sex," Darrell said triumphantly.

  "You want to, though!" Allen shot back just as boisterously.

  "Do you?"

  Allen looked down at Darrell's penis again, his shoulders
slumping and his face assuming the scared sheepish look Darrell
was used to seeing. "If you do," he answered, then bit his lower
lip as he waited for Darrell to say something.

  "How do they do it?"

  "I guess like a guy and girl but without the girl."

  "How's that?"

  "They suck on the other guy's dick and put it in their butts."

  "Eww that sounds gross."

  Allen shook his head back and forth saying, "Nah it aint," then
realized from Darrell’s surprised look that he had said something
he shouldn't. Cutting Darrell off, Allen admitted, "My cousin
slept over a couple weeks ago, and after everyone was asleep he
showed me."

  "Really?"

  "It felt good when he did it to me - sucking me and all - and
didn't hurt much when he put it in my butt."

  "Wow, you let him do that."

  Feeling emboldened by Darrell's excited wonder, Allen told
Darrell how his cousin had shown him how to do it. "It was just
kind of salty and smelled sort of like sweat, and when he came I
swallowed it just like he said I should."

  "You want to do it?" Darrell asked, his dick now super hard.

  "If you do it to me," Allen said as he started to pull his
shirt back off.

  Darrell stood in the small clearing as Allen got to his knees
and took the four-inch dick in one hand, then cupped his free
hand under the small sac hanging below. The feeling was out of
this world even before Allen put his lips to Darrell’s dick.  The
sudden warm wet feeling of Allen’s mouth surrounding him
overwhelmed him with a whole new level of ticklish pleasure.

  The feeling continued until Darrell suddenly felt the need to
pee, telling Allen then grunting as his friend started sucking
really hard. Darrell thought he was going to pass out, his ass
cheeks squeezing tightly then his insides bursting out through
the tip of his dick and into Allen's mouth. He had heard about
boy's cumming before but had never really understood what the
kids at school meant until that moment.

  "Wow," Darrell exclaimed once he caught his breath. "That was
awesome!"

  "Yeah, you like it?"

  "Hell yeah I do. You can do that anytime!"

  Allen smiled as he got to his feet before asking, "You want to
do it to me?  Or I can put it in your butt if you want to try
that too?"

  Darrell knelt down in front of Allen and wrapped his fingers
around his friend’s dick. "Let me try this first," he said as he
brought his lips to the tip. The first tentative lick was not
nearly as gross as he had expected. It was bland like the skin of
a peach, only warmer. Taking a deep breath he let the dick slip
into his mouth as he reached up and gently massaged his friend’s
balls just like Allen had done him.

   ... elsewhere ...

  John tossed the twelve pack into the igloo cooler along with
the bag of ice he had just bought with the money he found
squirreled away in the back of the family Bible. It didn't matter
to him that the money was put aside for food or rent.  With work
hard to come by, he wasn't going to turn down the gift of a
fishing day.

  Tipping his hat at the group of girls walking past, John wished
he was more than a few years younger. In his day, the girls would
have been ogling him, not the other way round. John had been the
highest scoring receiver both on and off the field the town had
ever seen. From the time he was fifteen until he returned home
from college, there hadn't been a night he couldn't find a warm
place to put his cock. Even after he married Cindy he found it
all too easy to find something strange, but now in his forties he
was finding it impossible to even get his own wife to spread her
legs.

  Up until he lost his job, John compensated by taking a trip to
the outskirts of town where the booze flowed freely and the
ladies danced for dollars. The women there didn't care that he
had a son that might catch them; most would have just tacked on
another ten and called the boy in for an education.

  John guzzled down a can as he watched the girls turn the
corner. "If not for that damn boy!" he thought and then shoved
the cooler up into the truck beside the creel and poles. The boy
was the root of all John’s problems as far as he could see. Money
had never been a problem until he got married, and he'd gotten
married because of the boy. It wasn't that he hadn't loved Cindy.
She had been his steady all through high school and was always
available when he came home on break. He just hadn't planned on
getting hitched, and he hadn't planned on working in a factory.

  The factory had been Cindy's idea. John had gotten into college
on a football scholarship but had managed to eke out a degree in
Human Resource Management. Problem was that there were no jobs
for his chosen career in his home town, and Cindy refused to
raise their child anywhere else.

  John drove down the road passing the group of girls and waving,
smiling as one waved back innocently. "Elena something," he said
to himself, trying to think of who the girl’s parents were while
thinking how he would love to be her daddy. He could have handled
that - being dad to a girl. At least he would have been spending
his hard earned money on something he could have enjoyed.

  Still thinking of the girls, John pulled off onto the dirt road
and came to a stop near the tip of the track-side lake. Years
before, John had hauled himself a porch swing out to the lake,
setting it back from the water far enough that he could watch the
town's young teens swim while not being seen himself. As hot
summer days were often the best times to catch the older teens
out for a dip, John was sure he would have a good afternoon.

  As it turned out, the heat kept the kids in. The afternoon
passed as he sat in the shade sweating and downing can after can.
Nine cans lay in a heap beside the swing when he saw the two boys
run into the water. John shook his head to clear the mud when he
noticed that one of the boy's was his Darrell. That meant the
other was Allen Clark, son of Elizabeth Branson who he had known
quite well in high school.

  John watched the two play in the water as he finished off his
tenth beer. His mind wandered back to his high school days and
the night he took Elizabeth's cherry. Back in them days it wasn't
all that unusual for the football team to take their girlfriends
under the stand, something that would get a guy expelled
nowadays. Elizabeth had been all for it, begging him to be her
first right up until he broke through her hymen. She had cried
good, John remembered. The girl begged him to stop almost as soon
as he lowered his hips. He hadn't; John loved hearing his
conquests cry right up to the moment he planted his seed.

  Ready to slip off into the woods for a piss and a quick jerk,
John saw his boy come out of the water and stop. The boy was
standing as naked as a jaybird, his little cock sticking out like
new spring growth on a sapling. When he saw the Allen boy point
at his son's cock then disappear into the woods, his
liquor-clouded mind started connecting dots in all the wrong
places. By the time he had finished the last of the twelve-pack
and emptied his bladder, he was thinking he needed to check on
the boys.

    ...

  The voice sounded like it came from the clouds, a booming "You
little fagots!" Darrell knew the voice and jumped to his feet,
spinning around in time to see the hand come flying at his face.
A moment later the smell of alcohol and cigarettes invaded his
nose, his father grabbing him by the hair and pulling him to his
feet.

  The boys separated. John yelled at Allen to get his ass home,
telling the scared boy he would be calling his pa then screaming
"GO!" at the hesitating child. As Allen ran off into the woods,
John pulled his belt from his pants and wrapped the buckle into
the palm of his hand. "You ain't got no idea the trouble you’re
in boy," he growled as he jerked Darrell around. The boy's naked
ass was lined up with the belt, and Darrell was crying he was
sorry and promising he would never do anything like that again.
John was lost in his fury, hearing not one word as he laid the
belt into his son's bare ass.

  "Why not?" John asked himself suddenly wondering what it would
be like having his cock in the cute butt. He had never thought of
doing anything like it before. In fact, he abhorred the idea of
any such thing. "It won't make me gay," he thought as he looked
at the reddening ass of his son. "I'd just be teaching the boy a
lesson is all."

  "You going to learn your lesson boy?" the man said as the belt
lept across the child’s ass and legs. "And make poppa feel good?"
he thought as the boy's legs gave out. Unzipping his pants, John
let his cock fall free, the uncut head an inch from his son's
face as the liquor drained the last of his common sense. "I'm
gunna give you enough dick to make sure of that."

  Darrell cried out as his dad's fingers dug into his hair.  A
moment later, the man-sized cock found its way to the back of his
mouth. Darrell gagged as his dad beat the back of his throat with
thick meaty flesh, his head being shoved to and fro like a bumper
car in a horror movie. He could do nothing, his fear keeping his
arms and legs frozen in place as his father raped his
nine-year-old mouth.

  The alcohol fueled rage continued to push John over the edge of
sanity, calling his son faggot and cum-eating whore, bitch and
cocksucker as he picked up the tempo. Thrusting his hips toward
his son's face while pulling against the back of the boy's head,
John felt his cock literally pop into the boy's throat. Drool
dribbled from the edges of John’s mouth as he revelled in the
intense feeling of deep throating the boy, his balls suddenly
pulling up inside and his ass cheeks tightening.

   Darrell gagged as the cock pushed its way to the back of his
mouth. His stomach turning and his throat catching fire as he
felt his dad's dick spread his throat open. Shivering as his nose
was held against his dad’s groin, his father crying "Fuck boy!
Take it, take it all bitch!" Darrell’s vision began to blur, his
eyes glazing just a moment before he was suddenly released. 
Darrell fell to all fours as the contents of his throat and
stomach spewed on the ground between his father’s feet.

  ...

  He snapped out his reverie.  Two years had passed, and Darrell
had kept his pain hidden deep inside. His father hadn't stopped
with the one rape, instead, taking Darrell’s silence to mean
something it didn't. For two years he suffered his father's
drunken advances and listened to his mother crying in the room
next door as his father stood over him with dick in hand.

  It was his dad who taught him to lick a man’s balls and rim his
ass. And it was his dad who taught him that a man's seed should
always be planted deep. When Darrell felt the first cock push its
way into his ass, it had been his dad and not Allen who laid atop
him moaning in pleasure. But it had been Darrell who cried
himself to sleep and dreamed of a way to escape.

  When the manager of the local theater took an interest in the
boy, Darrell saw it as an escape - if only for a few hours.
Darrell's official job was to clean the film room twice a week, a
position earning him twenty-five dollars a week, an amount
Darrell would later find was far from what he was worth. But at
the time, Darrell treated the man to the best blow jobs he knew
how to give, always swallowing both the man’s cock and his cum
just as his dad had taught him.

  The money he gave his mother to help with the rent until that
very night when, after finishing his work at the theater, he
stopped in to make sure the manager was done with him. Instead of
finding the old man at his desk, Darrell found the register tills
still waiting to be counted. An idea formed in his head, and
three minutes later he was running down the main street with five
hundred dollars stuffed in his pockets. Scared, Darrell followed
the tracks past the old lake where he used to swim and over the
trestles that marked the edge of his world.

  Years of abuse had honed his instincts. Darrell’s skill at
hiding from his dad helped him dodge the police and rail yard
workers at nearly every town and yard he visited. His luck
extending beyond even that, however, Darrell had found a school
bag lost by a third grader named Mindy Newcastle. After leaving
the books and notepads where the girl could find them, he then
wandered on and found a popup two-man tent left to the winds in
someone’s back yard. Then on the third day away from home, he
found some clothes hanging on a line, abandoned to the sun and
rain. He found other things as well, like a pocket knife someone
left on a table outside a general store along with a red ballcap
that happened to fit him just perfect.

  Darrell was a fast learner discovering early on that some
things were the same no matter where he went or the size of the
town he was in - like if he was hungry he could get a free meal
by hanging out by the trash cans behind nearly any pizza place.
Once it hadn't been so free, a pimple-faced boy shooing him away
even after being given the sad, hungry look. Darrell stuck it out
in hopes the second trash run would be someone with a heart but
finding it was the same pimple-faced boy who again tried to run
him off.

  Darrell knew it was his last chance that night, the lights had
been turned off in the dining room and it was only a matter of
time before the workers finished cleaning up. When the
pimple-faced teen showed up on his final run, Darrell decided it
was time to beg.

  "Please, I aint doing nothing. I'm just hungry."

  "Then go home."

  "I can't. Please, can't I get something? Maybe someone didn't
pick up an order?"

  "Sorry kid, I aint your momma and you aint my bitch. Try
someone who cares," the pimple-faced boy said as he turned to
throw the trash into the dumpster.

  "I can be." Darrell said, waiting for the teen to turn back to
him.

  "You don't look like a girl to me."

  He had promised himself he would never again do anything like
this, but his grumbling stomach had him feeling desperate.
Knowing he was taking a chance Darrell said, "I can suck you!
...for some food."

  The teenager thought it over in his head for a minute then
pointed to one of the two car's still in the lot. "Not here, they
got cameras. I'll pick you up in twenty minutes outside the
Rally's."

  "Drink too, please?" Darrell asked as he gave the boy his puppy
dog look.

  "You best not be fucking with me, or I'll kick your ass."

  "I'm not," Darrell said as he shook his head back and forth.

  Thirty minutes later Darrell walked down the quiet night
streets with a large pizza and a two-liter coke in hand. The teen
had come through as had Darrell while sitting in the passenger
seat of the old Gremlin. His belly still hurt from bending over
the stick shift, the reverse of a skull now imprinted in the
tender skin. The smell of the freshly baked pie caused him to
drool, his saliva coating the six inches of teenage meat as the
groans of his benefactor drowned out the ABBA tape. "If I had to
do it again I would my friend" repeated over and over in his head
as he swallowed the teen’s thick load as promised.

  Deciding he could live with trading sex for things he needed,
Darrell started hanging out in the once place everyone knew
perverts would be found. Not every town he passed through had a
park, but nearly all the cities did, often quite close to the
rail lines he traveled. Figuring out who the perverts were was
child’s play. Wearing as little as he dare, all Darrell needed to
do was play on whatever the park had for a jungle gym and watch
who was watching him. It wasn't long before he was putting more
money in his pockets than he spent on the things he needed.

  In just a month Darrell traveled farther than many men twice
his age. The sights of small towns and large city's passed
Darrell by at the speed of an empty box car. He was feeling so
good about himself that he had stopped thinking about home,
though he still woke with a start as the sounds of his mom crying
invaded his sleep.

  The long days with nothing to do had left Darrell a lot of time
to think. Where he was going? Where did he belong? And then
between the rail and the road stood a simple brown sign reading 
"Welcome to California" on one line and "Kentucky" on the next.
That one word conjured stars in his eyes.

  Darrell’s luck was something of legend. Entering the bus
station at the same time as an older woman, and being the
gentleman he believed himself to be, Darrell overheard the woman
as she discussed ticket prices for sending her son to camp.
Showing years beyond his own, Darrel saw a possible opportunity
and, without a word, followed the woman back out. Waiting an hour
before returning Darrell told the man at the counter his mom had
sent him back with the money for the ticket. His innocent eyes
doing the trick, the old station master sold him the ticket
without question.

  Darrell had taken to doing something he had seldom done back
home - pleasuring himself. Nearly every night before he made
himself a place to sleep, Darrell had explored his growing
manhood as he jerked himself off. Now riding the bus and stuck
beside a three year old girl, Darrell waited for the small toilet
to come open. Darrell was a second too late, the child’s mother
placing a hand on his shoulder asking, "Could you just make sure
the girls don't get out of their seats. I need to go to the
powder room."

  Darrell looked at the sleeping little girl, his cock throbbing
slightly as he found himself wondering what a girl's pussy looked
like. He had never actually seen a girl naked except in a picture
one of the boys at school had showed him during lunch, and he had
never even hoped to touch one. Lying Darrell turned and smiled at
the woman as he answered, "Sure.  I watch my little sister all
the time." And then with brotherly care, pulled the blanket
covering the child legs up to her shoulders.

  Hoping the girl would not wake, Darrell slipped his hand under
the cover as soon as the girl’s mother started down the aisle.
Nervously, Darrell slid his hand over the child’s leg as he
looked around to make sure no one noticed. Carefully, so as not
to wake the girl, he pulled the closest leg to him. His fingers
gently slipped under the cuff of her loose fitting shorts. His
fingers trembled as he pushed past the elastic band of her
panties.  His heart racing, when his fingers found the thin folds
hidden beneath the little girl’s panties. And then he found it,
his finger dipping just slightly into the crack of her tiny hole.
A bump in the road caused the girl to wake, Darrell's heart
skipping a beat as his hand flew out from under the covers.
Scared half to death, Darrell gave the girl a weak smile, sighing
in relief as the girl fell back asleep.

  The ride took two long days, the bus stopping at what felt like
every single town between Louisville and Oakland. And even with
the transfers and meal stops, it was with tired legs and a sore
ass that Darrell strapped his bag over his shoulders and
continued into his future.