The Sexual Adventures of Huckleberry Finn
Part 02
by nick55 'at' kansas.net and sean_dude88 'at' yahoo.com
This is a story based very loosely on characters created by Samuel Clemens (better known as Mark Twain) circa 1884. It also borrows from "Further Adventures of Huckleberry Finn" by Gregg Matthews, 100 years later, circa 1984. My apologies are extended to any heirs of Samuel Clemens and/or or Mr. Matthews who might read this.
In as much as Disney seems to be buying up everything these days, the company may now own the rights to Twain's "The Adventures of Tom Sawyer" (1875) and "The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn" (1884) which were sort of combined into the film "Tom and Huck." (1995). Then again, I think by now the books ought to be public domain.
I've never been sure just when the stories were set, but they appear to be pre Civil War, so I'm guessing late 1840s. Let's say Huck was born 1833 and Tom in 1835. This story is then set 1849 and the boys are 16 and 14
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I awoke from my sex-filled dream to the sound of a young male voice - no it wasn't Tom. Here was a boy of about 13 asking if anybody wanted a shoeshine. Tom and I were the only ones in our compartment now, so I was a bit surprised when he asked me again. There was something about this boy, so I decided to help. I didn't need a shine, heck I'd lived most of my life without shoes, but I figured maybe I'd pay the boy to tell me news. Tom and I had taken a steamboat to St. Louis, then gotten a train to Chicago. I didn't know just where we were now, but guessed we should be near Springfield. I wondered where the boy had gotten on the train.
"How much," I asked.
"Two bits sir," he said, surprising me with his formality. "Sir?" I was only a few years older than he was, and he'd probably been civilized longer than I had.
"Ok," I said. "Oh, I see you've got a newspaper, is that for sale?"
"I use it as a screen, so I don't get polish on you, but I can sell it for ten cents."
"Ten cents?" I had no idea how much a paper ought to cost.
"Well it IS the Springfield paper, not just a whistle stop tabloid; for you, five cents, or you can read it for a penny. And a tip is welcome if you like my service."
"We'll see," I said.
"Oh, you'll like it," he said with a mischievous grin and a wink. "And I like you, and your friend there. I could do you both for fifty cents."
"For fifty cents?" Tom and I asked together.
"You just wait and see if I'm not worth it," said the boy.
Kneeling down, he started to shine my shoes, but his head was right in my crotch. In fact, he seemed to be trying to feel my cock with his face, trying to smell me through my pants. He seemed to be finished with my shoes when he asked me "would you like a spit shine?" His hand on the bulge of my cock, I knew what he meant. I nodded "yes."
He unbuttoned my pants and took out my cock. He explained he could suck quite easily and if anyone approached, in the hall, he'd stop sucking and start shining, or pretend to be shining, and I could use the newspaper as a screen. It was easy to hear someone coming, he said, as the hall outside our compartment squeaked.
I soon realized this boy must've learned cock-sucking from the same Kama Sutra book Tom had read the first time he wanted to try oral sex. This boy's technique was the same. He kissed my penis, applying suction while pulling back with his mouth and drawing my penis out with his hand. Then he went back down on it, taking my penis into his mouth and really sucking on it.
I was starting to enjoy this. Tom announced he wanted this "spit shine" service too, and would read the headlines of the paper while he waited. The shine boy continued to make love to me. He offered his mouth, I gave my dick; I gave my trust, he gave his care and the wonderful feel of his warm, caressing mouth. It didn't take me long at all to shoot my load. He collected it in his mouth and cheeks, then spit it out onto my shoes, which he then polished.
"Nothin' quite like spit and spunk," the boy said with a grin, when he finished. "Well, was it worth a tip?"
"Indeed it was! Just what I needed!" I said. "How 'bout an extra 25 cents? And you're a good-looking fellow. How about an extra 5 cents to suck you ?"
"Well, if you insist," said the boy, grinning.
"By the way, what's your name?" I asked.
"Jim," he said.
"Jim?" Tom and I repeated.
"Something special about that name?" the boy asked.
"Just the same name as an old and special friend," I explained.
Before Jim and I could start anything, Tom spoke up. "Guys, listen to this." So Tom read from the paper.
"Gold found in California. The whole country is buzzing. President Polk calls for a continental railroad to bring the gold back east. Golddiggers head west in droves by wagon. Those that don't strike it rich can still claim land and homestead. Huck, this is what we should do - head out west and seek our fortune."
" Tom, think! I reckon you got to be 21, or at least 18 to file claims and all! I'm only 16!" I said.
"We've got by before," says Tom. "I reckon if you make up a story 'bout your pap dying on the way, or getting killed by Injuns or a bear or some calamity, they'll let you do whatever you need to do."
"Well, maybe. This ain't just a summer's raft ride down the Mississipp'. Tom, this is gonna take a heap o' plannin', and funds."
"Well, I can handle the plannin', and you can handle the funds, can't ya?" says Tom.
"All right," I says. "Let's try it!"
"We had just enough time to enjoy a 3-way (me sucking our new Jim and him sucking Tom) when we felt the train start to slow down and figured we better see where we were, and about heading back west.