The Carny

It was Tuesday, August 14th. The next morning Roy and I would skip ahead to my final stand in Jasper, Tennessee.

As we lay in bed, his lips widened into a mischievous grin while he watched me play with his engorged cock. My sense of adventure with his considerable assets had blossomed by then and I frequently explored new ways to enjoy them. He obviously saw the wheels turning in my head.

"What's on your mind?" he inquired.

"What makes you think anything's on my mind?" I teased.

"I know that look," he pressed me.

I kissed his leaking cock head and licked my lips, then placed the tip of my tongue under it to catch some more of his delicious pre-cum and savor its salty flavor. When I pulled away a few seconds later I began pecking the fleshy bulbs that stood guard at either side of his slit with little kisses.

They looked so big and handsome bulging out from that beautiful wreath of soft, warm foreskin. I adored them.

Roy smiled and made his 'aw-w-w, ain't that cute' face. I felt myself blush and broke into a grin.

"Out with it, mister," he playfully demanded.

"Okay, I want you to fuck my mouth...then shoot in my face," I confessed.

He laughed and laid a hand on the back of my head. My mouth opened and he guided it onto his rigid member.

He gently fucked it for a few seconds and then began running his fingers through my hair.

"I'm up for it," he chuckled.

I let his dick slip from my lips and joined in his laughter.

"How would you like to go about it, sport?" he asked.

"With me propped up on the pillows while you straddle me."

We got in position. He braced his forearms on the wall and pushed his hard-on through my lips to make sure his belly had sufficient clearance. It just barely did.

"That should work. Show me where you want my cock head when I shoot."

I pushed against his hips and he slowly backed away until his glans was about eight to ten inches from my face. It was still close enough to be able to peer into his yawning slit, but far enough away that his gorgeous member was in clear focus.

"Right there," I told him

He sucked in his belly till he could see how far away it was from me.

"Got it. Ready?"

"And waiting," I confirmed.

Roy pushed his hips forward till his cock head touched my lips and then carefully leaned in until he had my mouth stuffed. With expert precision he began humping into my suction.

He thoroughly filled my mouth with thrusts that were forceful without being rough. It turned out to be heavenly!

His furry belly was bumping my forehead and soon the power behind his rhythm had his balls slapping up under my chin. My neck completely relaxed and I gave myself to him heart and soul.

Roy sounded out his joy at the pleasurable sensations he helped himself to in deep, lusty growls. I reached my arms around his immense thighs and let him fill me on his passion.

I felt small and defenseless as his fat cock reamed the tight suction of my lips. Yet I felt safe as a baby cradled in its father's strong arms. His strokes were measured to ensure his stamina as well as my comfort.

He skillfully earned my complete trust and my confidence that I could surrender to him soared. I closed my eyes and visions of his uncommonly large and beautiful dick explosively erupting before my eyes filled my mind.

The girth of his magnificent appendage grew until I could feel the biggest and sturdiest of the veins that ribbed its surface teasing my lips. The delightful saltiness of his freely flowing pre-ejaculate permeated my taste buds.

His deep, animal-like grunts sounded fierce and controlling. He had fully tapped my willing submission and knew he had free rein to do whatever it took for him to achieve blissful ecstasy.

However, he also knew how I loved having my endurance challenged by him and did everything in his power to stave it off. Periodically he would ease his fat glans into my rewarding suction until it was tightly pressed to my soft palate, just short of making me gag, and hold his position.

I could feel the violent shivers he would lapse into during those pauses all the way down into the mighty thighs I clung to. My mouth was stuffed beyond the ability to take in air through my nose. He seemed to know exactly how long he could remain there without making me struggle for breath.

At that point he would resume reaming my face on the hulking corpulence of his unyielding hardness. The more I gave myself to it, the more it demanded from me. I began to regard it as my uncompromising but fair master.

"Suck me harder," he calmly commanded.

I obeyed, foregoing thoughts of my own pleasure to focus entirely on his by that point. His breathing became labored. The challenge of him finally started to overwhelm me and I hoped he was close.

Just when I began to think he might outlast my ability to sate him he yanked the thing from my mouth to the exact distance I'd demonstrated. His bloated member looked lewd and vulgar, yet breathtakingly beautiful and intensely masculine.

His gaping slit leered at me, the gloating phallus glistening in a heavy coat of my saliva to just below the half-way mark of the surprising length he displayed by pressing back into his pad. I anxiously stared up into the wide open orifice long enough that I wondered if he had miscalculated and withdrawn too soon.

To my delight it suddenly erupted. I watched intently while it pelted my face with his milky semen, blasting no fewer than nine thick streamers by my count. It was everything I'd hoped it would be!

I looked up and saw him beaming a warm smile down at me over his majestic belly. His expression radiated pride, contentment and, most of all, deep and abiding love.

"It was beautiful, Roy...thank you."

He dropped his hands from the wall and let them hang at his sides.

"I swear that's the handsomest face I've ever come on," he confidently teased me.

He scooted down and planted his fists in the bed at my sides. Leaning in, he lapped a pearl-white glob of his gift onto the tip of his tongue and fed it to me.

"You're the one," he sighed, "the man from my dreams."

"And don't you forget it."

"Never!"

He looked down at my rock hard cock, jutting up from my loins and poking at his belly. He grinned.

"My turn," he announced.

Roy took it in his mouth and passionately sucked, teasing my urethra with his tongue while he effortlessly worked his way down to my base. I envied him that skill, knowing full well I had not nearly so much cock meat as he to challenge him on.

At peak arousal his dick was something of an optical illusion. Its length was deceptively masked by its thickness.

It was in fact longer than mine, and easily by more than an inch. The thickness of it was just so impressive that his length struggled to get your attention, except in a direct comparison.

The words 'intimidatingly fat' come to mind. I can honestly think of no others that really do it justice. I'm pretty sure if I could've formed one dick by squeezing two the size of mine together it still wouldn't quite have matched his in girth.

The giant coaxed up a mind blowing load from me. He then swallowed it and lovingly sucked my balls until the strain on his neck became too much.

After Roy confided his past to me our sexual dynamic began rapidly undergoing changes that I think he had been hoping for. Feeling less like the junior partner in our sexual festivities gave me a level of confidence I'd never enjoyed. I found myself addressing his needs with more all encompassing attention.

Prior to that, his deep roster of masculine attributes sometimes made me question I was even a card carrying member of the same sex. That was especially true witnessing the splendor of him in sexual arousal.

It was almost as if nature had hand selected him to illustrate the effects of testosterone on the male body by letting his production of it go unchecked.

The over all width and thickness of his solid build, his generous allotment of body hair, the beard so heavy it would surely put a crick in the neck of a lesser man, the bulky wad of cock and balls he'd been gifted with - it all seemed designed to impress on me that sexual gratification was *his* birthright, and *my* function merely to provide him with it.

However, the tenderness he invariably displayed during our sexual interludes, together with his description of that man from his dreams - actually revealing his own deepest needs and desires - relieved me of the fear that I was somehow unworthy of that membership.

It gave context to the gentle intimacy in his approach to sex with which he'd immediately gained my trust; that safely nurtured the growth of my still impressionable sexual identity.

A man with all of Roy's remarkable physical characteristics could easily have manipulated me into settling for being his adoring plaything - and I'd probably have been perfectly happy in that role. But he wanted more, for both of us.

He wanted my sexuality to develop its full potential. He wanted - and needed - an equal, not a toy.

Through that tenderness I came to understand the measure of a man was more than the sum total of his male characteristics. It was measured at least as much by his deeds and what he carried in his heart.

That's not to say I stopped worrying altogether about how I presented as a member of the male sex. My body was rapidly maturing, so naturally I couldn't help but wonder where I would eventually land on the scale that he topped out so strikingly.

But coming at last to view him as more than his physical presentation put me at ease with lowering the bar of acceptability to a more realistic level.

That said, I often still studied my reflection to mark my progress. As the end of our time together was drawing near I had filled out to almost 200 pounds.

A lot of it was muscle and I felt very proud of that. I loved how our strenuous work had thickened and rounded my shoulders, endowed my chest with identifiable pectorals and built my arms and legs into noticeably bigger, shapelier and stronger looking limbs.

Some of it was padding, of which I felt equally proud. My stomach had rounded enough that I was beginning to sport a seedling of what I'd always viewed as the centerpiece of Roy's imposing presence.

I was shaving much more frequently than when I'd first joined him. It was not a beard that practically tattooed the lower half of my face like Roy's, but neither was it the few stray curls on my chin and unsightly fuzz on my upper lip that had been such sources of embarrassment nearly three months prior.

Even the patches between my developing pecs and around the navel of my thickening middle had coarsened to the point that I no longer felt deprived of body hair.

In short, when Roy referred to me as a man I accepted that he wasn't merely being charitable. When he looked to me to provide him one he could honor with an occasional show of his own submissive side, I stopped feeling miscast in that role.

On Monday, August 21st, the Jasper stand opened. It would be my last. I was nearly inconsolable.

I felt like a death row inmate being served his final meal. Come Friday morning Roy would drop me off at the bus station in Chattanooga and then travel on to the next stop without me.

Meanwhile I would board a bus, on my way back to Kentucky - back to being Eddie, the kid who no longer existed in my mind.

Following the set up on Sunday, Roy and I lay in each other's arms as usual. Something about our quiet time that night seemed more ominous, though.

At last he broke the silence.

"Please don't be sad, Ed. We both knew this time would come. I need you to be strong."

Tears began to well up in my eyes. I fought them back.

"I want to, Roy. I just don't know how. I've never been in love before and..."

Words suddenly failed me. He wrapped me in his arms, as if trying to shield me from my pain.

"Me neither, sport...me neither. But even if I'd known how much this was going to hurt...I still would've charged into it headlong. What you've given me means that much to me."

"Oh, Roy!"

I pressed my fingers to that huge, comforting chest and drew my knees up till I was curled around the magnificent belly I'd adored since I was eight years old. It was as close as I could physically get to the soul within that he'd bared for me over the previous two months or more.

I couldn't hold back the tears any longer. They streamed from my eyes onto the grandfatherly jowls I pressed my cheek to, undeniably comforting even if rough as sandpaper.

"Goddammit!" I cursed my display of weakness.

"It's okay...it's okay...you're going to be okay. We're both going to be okay," he assured me.

It was a moment that had to play out at some point, I suppose. I think we were both glad we hadn't waited for it any longer. It was not yet goodbye, but an acknowledgment of - maybe even our way of bracing ourselves for - the one to come.

We resumed our silence for the rest of that night. I never heard Roy's soothing snore before dropping off.

When we showed up the next morning to ready for the opening I didn't need to be told what to do. I sought out the most demanding preps I was comfortable handling and pitched right in. I felt like a carny by then, and the life suited me.

It was far from the life my parents had in mind for me but I had grown to love being around that ragtag bunch of roughnecks and misfits. I guess it sounds strange for someone with my run-of-the-mill middle class upbringing to say, but for the first time in my life I felt like I fit in.

There were still tensions between me and a few of the old lifers. But there were always tensions on the crew. How could that many people travel and essentially live together for nearly eight months out of a year and not find themselves at cross purposes once in a while?

The Ferris Wheel was run and maintained by a man named Frank. He was one of the few who still made no effort to hide his disdain for what he perceived as 'unearned privilege' unfairly bestowed on me as Bruce's nephew.

He had a good relationship with Roy and I had tried all summer to win his approval. Just as we were about to climb the wooden frame and check that the gears were properly greased, the loudspeaker that pumped the calliope music out to his potential customers went silent.

"Check that wiring and fix it!" he barked at me.

"I wouldn't know where to begin, Frank," I confessed, "I know absolutely nothing about electronics."

"You useless little shit!" he spat, "Now I'm gonna be late opening and it's on you!"

He fetched his tools and climbed on top of his ticket booth to solve the problem. I figured it was my last chance to get on his good side so I decided to try going up to check the gears without him.

On my way up my shirttail got hung on something and I panicked. I managed to stabilize myself, but my position was so awkward and precarious that I couldn't free a hand up to get myself loose.

My principal source of stability was the grip I had on the cross timber above me. My up-stretched arm was beginning to tire while my mind raced to figure a way out of the jam. When I felt that hand start to slip I gave in and began to yell for help.

"MOTHERFUCKER!" I heard Frank exclaim.

In a few minutes my shirt came loose from whatever had caught it. I looked down.

It was Frank. He was livid.

"You get your ass off this thing you good for nothing piss-ant!"

He refused to yield space and made me find a way down around him.

Once I was on the ground he yelled, "Now, stay put!"

He climbed down and got in my face, veins standing out at his temples, then proceeded to read me the riot act.

I knew what I had done was reckless and that I deserved it. It seemed the least I could do to just stand there and let him have his satisfaction.

Roy came running up about that time. My heart sank.

"What's going on?"

"This little shit tried to climb the wheel by himself and got tangled up. Could've got himself KILLED!"

"Oh, shit!"

Roy looked at me in disbelief that I would do something so careless, but with obvious relief that I was uninjured.

"You alright, Ed?"

"You alright, Ed?" Frank mocked him.

It was delivered complete with an effeminate lifting of his hands to his faux-horrified expression.

Roy wheeled on him and his face went almost purple with rage. My heart started to pound. I'd never seen him look that way.

"I'm fine, Roy," I assured him, "Really. There's no need for you to stay. I deserve whatever else Frank has to say and I can handle it. Please..."

Roy closed his eyes. He slowly heaved an obvious 'count-to-ten' sigh that swelled his massive chest to the point of straining his shirt buttons.

"Look, Frank..." Roy calmly began.

"Look nothing! Come Friday don't think for a minute anybody but you is gonna miss the little fag being around to suck your cock, you lard ass pervert!"

Roy's right arm flew up with lightning speed and pasted him. His fist landed with a sound I'll never forget.

It was nothing like it sounds in the movies. This was less the crack of wood breaking and more the dull thud of flesh-padded bone on flesh-padded bone. My stomach turned at the reality of it.

Frank instantly went down flat of his back. I was frozen at the sight.

Even Roy was stunned by his unexpected outburst of violence. His voice was filled with regret when he finally regained his power of speech.

"Aw-w-w...goddammit, Frank...how long we known each other? Just...goddammit..."

He helped the man to his feet. To say he was dazed is beyond understatement. I sometimes wonder to this day if he didn't sustain a concussion from the blow given everything that colossus had behind it.

"Your nose is bloody. Let's get you fixed up. You can have the day off...with pay. Ed'll run your wheel."

A crowd of crew members had gathered by then. They looked at Roy in disbelief.

"There's no excuse for what I've done here so I'm not going to try and justify it," he said, clearly disappointed in himself, "Just...everyone...go to your stations...please...and try to forget what you've seen here. It's nearly ten."

They quickly disbanded amid a flurry of chatter.

That night Roy was clearly still shaken by what he'd done. He came out of the shower and stretched out on the bed. I went to take mine.

When I came out he hadn't moved. He was staring off into space.

I folded my pillow in half to prop myself up and stretched out beside him. He lifted his head and I slipped my arm behind it.

He looked up at me. His pain over the incident had an intractable hold on him. I shifted onto my hip and began stroking his chest hair with my other hand.

"I'm sure he'll be fine, Roy," I comforted him.

"He had no right to say such a thing...to tar you with my past...make you out as one of those whores I used to fuck...made me so goddamn mad...lost my head. Still, I had no right to deck him like I did. I'm twice his size."

"Anything broken?"

"I looked him over pretty good. Didn't find anything. I didn't hit him near as hard as I could've, but still...I've worked so hard to gain my crew's confidence. That's probably shot to hell now."

The image of Frank's bloody nose and bruised face flashed in my mind. How much more force could Roy have possibly put behind that punch? A quick glance at the powerful build I'd come to take for granted reminded me he could easily have knocked the man unconscious, maybe even killed him.

He pressed his cheek to my chest and I cradled his head in my arms.

"I'll bet not. Just explain to them that it was all my fault. The situation would never have escalated to that if I'd just waited for him to finish checking the speaker like I should've."

"No need to do that...and it wasn't ALL your fault. Nobody including me was expecting what happened. Besides, Frank had to have known no good could come of needling me like he did."