Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 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. 
  
Runaway Choices 6