The Sexual Adventures of Huckleberry Finn,
Part 05: Mojo and St Jo Mo.
Written by nick55 at' kansas.net and sean_dude88 at' yahoo.com
This episode by Sean, in collaboration with Craig
This is a story based loosely on characters created by Samuel Clemens (better known as Mark Twain) circa 1884. The plot borrows from "Further Adventures of Huckleberry Finn" by Austalian author Gregg Matthews (Crown Publishers, 1983, now out of print in USA but still available on the net from Barnes & Noble). Apologies are extended to any heirs of Mr. Clemens or Mr. Matthews who might read this.
In this story, Huck is 16, and the story takes place in 1849.
As for Huck's new friends, Jesse and Jimmy, they are new creations. They are 17 and 13, although Jesse looks older, and Jimmy maybe looks a bit younger.
The snow let up about noon. We hadn't had any breakfast, nor any supper the night before, so we were starting to get hungry. We hadn't really had time to see about supplies, so I figured we'd have to shop. I guessed we were 80 miles from St Petersburg when we come to a sign that reads "Hedleyville." Of the few people about, no one gave us a second glance, so I reckoned they hadn't heard of Huck Finn, Bloodthirsty Murderer, in these parts. I figured I'd get supplies myself when Jesse spoke up.
"Hold up, Huck. You made a slip last time you were questioned."
"I did?"
"Back at the dairy barn, when that fella asked what we was planning to do next, you said ` I guess I'll head up north where folks don't know me and maybe ain't heard of me and the murder yet.' But you were supposed to be Tom Sawyer, from what you'd said earlier. A smart fella would have caught that, and guessed who you are."
"He'd already guessed ONE of us was Huck Finn," I said.
"But he didn't know which. I'll get supplies," said Jesse. "No one's looking for me here."
"All right," I said, handing him two ten-dollar bills, "this ought to buy enough for now."
I watched Jesse head to what seemed the only business in town - a little general store.
When Jesse came back, he had quite a tale to tell.
"There was a group of men around the stove, but they didn't give me notice until I was ready to pay. The shopkeeper said the bills looked too new and crisp, like I'd just printed em. I told him I could crinkle em up, but they weren't counterfeit. I let on as how my pap had just sold the farm and got paid in new bills, but even that didn't seem to satisfy him until one of the men around the stove spoke up and said Danged if you ain't the suspicionest man in the state, Ed! You boys heard about when Ed figured he'd get himself one of them mail order brides? When the woman finally turns up on his doorstep and says she's the one, Ed says she can't be cause she ain't wrapped in paper and string!'
"That got everybody to laughing; everybody `cept Ed," said Jesse.
"So you didn't have any trouble," I said.
"Well, I sort of did," said Jesse.
"What happened?"
"Just as Ed is giving me the last bit, he says I ain't heard of any sales around here.' I told him it was back in Illinois. Then he asked me my name and I gave him Ben Rogers,' and he says `You sure it ain't Huck Finn?"
"So, news HAS traveled this far!" I said. "Sheriff must've telegraphed every town in the state, and probably the nearest ones in Illinois, Arkansas, and Tennessee, not knowing if I'd go west, east, or south. What'd YOU say?"
"Fortunately I didn't have to say anything. One of the other men spoke up. What you gonna do Ed, check HIM over? Here's the rest of the tale bout Ed and that mail order bride. That woman raised such a holler and fuss that Ed agreed she must be the one sure enough, but he wants to know if she's a virgin. The woman told him he could stick his finger up and feel if he really has to know, so Ed reached up under her dress and feels around, and around, but never felt a cork. He tells the woman she's no virgin, and she informs him he had his finger up her ass!' Ed just blushed and gave me my change. I spent $14.25 and he gave me $5.75 back."
We traveled on til we saw a group of wagons in the road. There were five wagons, not canvas-covered like the homesteaders and gold seekers would have, but with wooden walls and roofs like medicine wagons. They were painted bright, like the sort of things the Duke of Bilgewater and the self-proclaimed Dauphin (prince of France) would have, and put me in mind of the liars, humbugs and frauds those two had been, so I figured whoever owned THESE wagons was up to no good. As we got closer, I could see one wagon appeared to be stuck in mud from the melting snow. I was hoping we could get around, when I was hailed, or at least a fella spoke in my direction. He was dressed like a preacher goin' to a funeral, all in black.
"Ah sweet providence hath provided means to our salvation. Good sirs, may I be so bold as to request Christian assistance in removing our wagon from the mire in which it has become affixed?"
I didn't understand anything more than `good sirs,' so I said "come again?"
"Could you, would you, fine gentlemen, assist us in unbogging our wagon?"
"Unbogging?"
"We're stuck," another man says, plain and simple, "and need your help."
"Oh, why didn't you say so right off?" I asked.
"We struggled and strained, but to no avail," preacher goes on. "Now God has sent the sinew and muscle we need to break free of the slough of despond."
"Dis pond?" said Jimmy. "That ain't no pond, it's hardly a puddle. And YOU couldn't have `struggled' much, or you'd be all muddy! Unless you've changed clothes, which I doubt."
"I meant HE struggled," the preacher says, indicating the other man. Are YOU going to help or not?"
I'd heard people like this preacher talk before. That were how the Widow Douglas had talked. I knew preacher meant he was despondent, in despair, but I loved Jimmy for seeing through all that flowery talk. "Seein' as how you're pretty much in our way, I reckon we might as well help," I said, and we all get off our horses. "You got any tools, shovels, anything? What I advise is you dig a bit in front of the wheels and fill the trenches with brush so the wheels have something to grab onto and come free."
"Matt," preacher shouts to one of the wagons, a boy's head pops out over the half door, "bring out the shovel."
"Don't just stand there," I tell preacher, "go gather some brush! It'll go faster if you give a hand."
But that `preacher,' he never moved to do a bit of work! Instead he said "surely grace and mercy shall help you," and he called out "Shirley, Grace and Mercy, come out and assist these fine young specimens of manhood in freeing our last wagon. You too, Faith, Hope, and Constance."
Out come six fine-looking young ladies. At least fine if I'd been so inclined. I could see Jesse was thinking he wouldn't mind if the preacher announced "Shirley, Grace and Mercy shall follow you all the days of your life!" Or maybe he'd like to keep the Faith, or know that he'd always have Hope. I never believed those were the girls' real names.
Here came Matt with the shovel. Now Matt was my type! About 15, to look at him, he was what Tom Sawyer would call an Adonis, golden-haired like an angel, but built more like Hercules! I figured he probably got saddled with most of the work and that were why his muscles were so well developed. Now the preacher finally made introductions. "I am Mordecai McSween. This is my nephew Matt. Yonder is my brother, Phineas, with his wife Harriet. And the young ladies are their daughters. May I know the names of our benefactors?"
"Tom Sawyer," says I.
"Ben Rodgers," says Jesse, "and my brother..."
"Jim," says Jim, with no reason not to say otherwise. "Is this a traveling circus, or a theater?"
"A circus? Theater?" Mordecai seems offended. "It's a traveling church - the McSween Travelling Church of Christ the Lamb, and I am the REVEREND Mordecai McSween."
I took the shovel and did the digging for the first trench while Jesse, Jimmy and the girls went to gather brush. Matt was seeing if he could double-team the horses. I got the first trench finished, and looked around, but the others aren't back yet, so I started on the second trench. The day is surprisingly warm and I'm working up a sweat, so I take my shirt off. Pretty soon Matt comes over. "I'll relieve you Tom, and I advise you to put your shirt back on."
"What? Why? The girls back? Ain't they ever seen a shirtless boy before?"
"It's not the girls, it's Uncle Mordecai. He's been staring at you ever since you took your shirt off, and I think he fancies you."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Uncle Mordecai is the reason we're a TRAVELING church. He'd been a priest at a big Catholic Church back in Ohio but he got thrown out for unnatural acts with the choirboys and acolytes. I reckon he thinks you're handsome. If he got you alone, I spect he'd have your britches down before you could say hallelujah!"
Well, to make a long story shorter, we got the wagon loose, and discovered the McSweens were traveling toward St Joseph, stopping at various places along the way to hold revival meetings. I made up a story that I was going to stay with Uncle Brewster Sawyer near St. Jo, and was headed in that direction. Then the reverend propositioned me. No, not THAT kind of proposition, get your mind off sex for a minute, I mean, well, things went like this:
"You've strong backs, willing hearts, and good minds," said the reverend, "and, with the spring thaw, there will be many a mud hole along the way that will be needing backbone and gristle to get us out. Now Tom, you seem to be the leader of your group, how you'd like to join us for awhile? You can eat with us, we'll feed you, but seeing as `man does not live by bread alone,' I'll give you a dollar, each, at the end of each week, and again when we reach St Joseph. How's that suit you?"
Well that suited me fine! We'd blend in, `stead of being three boys traveling alone. I saw no reason not to the McSweens for a spell. (Mordecai was delighted.) I didn't know about Mordecai getting inside my pants, but I wondered if I could get inside Matt's. I was mighty happy when his pa (Phineas) said we boys could sleep together in one wagon! (That left one for Mordecai, one for Phineas and Harriet; one for the girls, one for us, and one for supplies
That night, my sleep was troubled, full of thoughts of all that had happened in the last few days, but especially the Judge's murder. The WAY he were murdered, that bothered me. That knife didn't look like it had simply been shoved into him; it looked like it had been thrown. There were only two men I'd known could throw a knife like that. One was Injun Joe, who had died in McDougall's Cave. (Tom could have told you about that.) The other was my own pap. Now Ol' Jim had sworn he'd seen my pap drowned dead, after a flood, but once a body's been drowned and dead awhile I reckon it's difficult to tell who it was in life. Another thing come to haunt me: I'd seen pap's hoof print with the cross on the heel, in the snow outside Thatcher's. Pap's only bit o' religion that he really hung onto was this belief that if he left the sign of the cross with each step, each boot print, the devil wouldn't take him. Maybe there was somethin' to that. Maybe hell had spat him back for more
wickedness; heaven wouldn't take him, he'd been way too wicked for there.
So, I'm talking in my sleep: "Please pap, don't haunt me." But I see him, in my dream, standing over me, and I can smell the tobacco and drink on his breath.
"Thought you'd seen the last o' me, I reckon," he says, "but I ain't done with you yet. I aim to get you, same as I done the Judge."
"Please pap, go away and let me be. I never done you harm."
"No harm? You only killed my pride, making me look small with your book learnin' and all. You got education, you put on fancy ways. And the Judge, he says I never raised you right so I ain't fit to be yo' kin, and I never got a dollar when you got Ol' Injun Joe's money. Well, I can kill people who ain't my kin, so ya better be watchin' o'er your shoulder from now on."
Well, I couldn't sleep, so I got up, dressed, and left the wagon, figuring I'd look around our camp to set my mind to rest that my pap weren't lurking about. I hadn't had a smoke for awhile, as I figured these holy folk wouldn't want me smoking around them, so I grabbed my pipe and tobacco thinking maybe a smoke was just what I needed to calm my nerves.
I hadn't been gone long when I heard footsteps approaching. "Who's there?" I asked.
"Tom? Is that you? Matt here."
"Yeah, it's me," I said.
"What ya doin' out here this time of night, Tom?"
"Having a smoke. How about you?"
"Had to take a leak," he says. I guess he'd done it, cause then he came over to me. "You're in danger."
"WHAT?!" I near choked on my pipe smoke.
"I heard you talking in your sleep," he says, with a grin.
"Oh, uh bad dream," I said.
"About your father?"
"Uh yeah. I lost him last year when the Mississippi flooded. Folks say he drowned, but every now and then I think he's right close, and I'm not sure he's a ghost."
"I think I understand," said Matt. "I lost my parents then too."
"Ain't Phineas and Harriet your parents?"
"No, Phineas is dad's other brother. He and Harriet took me in," said Matt. Well, it's a nice night, first warm one in months. Mind if I join you?"
"I like your company. You don't mind me smoking?"
"Nah. My pa smoked, Phineas smokes, even Uncle Mordecai. I've tried it myself, said Matt. Just don't let Mordecai catch you, he'd have a field day with that for ammunition."
"You mean a sermon?" I asked.
"Not exactly. Here's how it would likely go."
"The minions of Satan threaten your immortal soul," Matt said, doing a great impression of his Uncle Mordecai. His pernicious imps are everywhere!"
"I know, " I laughed. "I heard a couple and tried to catch one. I hear if you can put one in a bottle, he has to grant you 3 wishes."
Matt laughed before regaining his composure and continuing in his uncle's manner "It's no laughing matter! There are forces of evil, horrible creeping things of the Black Lord that crawl about in a man's soul, tempting him, filling him with lust so as to destroy him from within."
"Your uncle sounds a powerful speaker, I reckon he packs the tent."
"You have given in to the temptation of the devil weed, but I can save you," Matt mimics his uncle.
"What would you do? I mean what would your uncle do?" I ask.
"Well, he'd have you report to him private-like, then have you drop your pants for the exorcism."
"The what?"
"Well, I could try to tell you, but I think it would be better to show you, back in our wagon."
Once we're back in the wagon, and see Jesse and Jimmy are still asleep, Matt continues.
"Drop the clothes from your loins that they may be washed by a servant of the Lord." Then in his own voice he adds: "to be safe, you better strip off ALL your clothes." So I did. Matt's just in his nightshirt, which looks kind of like a preacher's robe, adding to the effect.
"Now what?" I ask.
Then Matt knelt down and flung his arms around my waist and started licking my thighs, and my belly, and his hands are on my ass as he gives me a tongue bath. I was hard in seconds.
"Oh Matt," I moaned. "That feels so good!"
I looked down and noticed his cock sticking out hard from beneath his nightshirt.
"The worm within must be sucked out to remove the lust," he says, still imitating the preacher.
"How?" I ask.
"How do you think?" he says in his own voice, grinning.
"You gonna suck my cock?"
"You know about cock sucking?"
"Don't every boy my age?"
"How old are you?" he asks.
"Sixteen," I reply.
"You're a year older than I am. Maybe more boys that age do know. My experience is that NOT many my age HERE know about it, and even fewer know how to do it well enough to return the favor."
"Here?' I repeated.
"I started having sex back in Ohio when I was about 12." Matt explained. Some of the choirboys and acolytes were getting it from Uncle Mordecai, but I reckon most of them decided they'd rather do it with other boys. I know I would. Yeah, Mordecai has sucked me and taught me how to suck, but I'd rather do it with other boys. What's your story?"
Well, I was in it now, so I told him. "About a year earlier a friend of mine swiped a copy of the Kama Sutra from the library and we sort of learned out of the book, though not quite `by the book' if you know what I mean. We been sucking each other ever since."
"Is one of those boys with you now the one you're talking about?" Matt asked.
"No, but --," I couldn't remember the name Jesse had used, " -- the older one, he'll let you suck him; and Jimmy, the younger one, he's right queer."
"Tom, if I suck you, would you suck me?"
"SURE!" I could hardly believe my good fortune.
Matt stripped off his nightshirt. I was stunned. He was so beautiful. And so well hung! Never had I imagined this. I'd thought I was pretty well hung with what I guessed was a little over 7 inches of cock. I was bigger than Tom anyway, but Matt must've been an inch longer; I guessed 8 and ½ inches long. Looking at his cock I felt my own getting harder and harder. All I could do was stare at him.
"I want to kiss you all over, and explore every part of you," Matt said, bringing me out of my trance. He slowly kissed me, then used his tongue to trace my jaw. He continued down my neck, reaching my chest where he started running his mouth and tongue all over. When he reached my nipples, my breath was almost taken away by the feelings as he rolled one nipple around on his tongue, taking it into his mouth and sucking lightly on it, then kissed his way over to the other nipple and lavished attention on it.
Finally Matt moved down to my cock, which was so hard that it was quivering in midair. A small drop of pre-cum had formed at the tip and Matt leaned down to lick it up.
At the touch of his tongue on my cock, I nearly went crazy! I wanted this so much! But Matt wanted to make it last. He went down to the base of my cock and licked it from bottom to top, quickly running his tongue over the head and then back down the shaft.
"Oh, Uh " I moaned, "suck me! Please, Matt. I can't take much more."
Matt lowered his head and took my cock into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it like it was a piece of candy as he took more and more into his mouth. The feeling was incredible!
As he reached the base of my cock, Matt rose up then started going up and down on it, never stopping the motion of his mouth and tongue on my hard cock.
"Oh God, oh man. I can't hold out much longer. I'm going to shoot off soon."
"Mmm " was his answer as I'm sure he could taste the pre-cum flowing steadily. My cock seemed to get fuller with each stroke of his tongue, each bob of his head.
Soon I could feel my cock give a big throb and I shot a large spurt of semen almost filling Matt's mouth. He kept on sucking and my cock continued to throb and spurt, pouring the sperm into his mouth. Matt pulled up a little, just enough to swallow and then took me in his mouth again, slowly moving up and down, milking my cock.
I tried to speak, to describe the pleasure, but the words wouldn't come, and my breath was near gone from the orgasm that was just now starting to taper off.
Matt finally pulled up off my cock and, seeing another drop of cum, he licked that up as well.
"Did you like that?" he asked with a smile.
"I've never felt anything like that before. It felt like my whole body and life were coming out of my cock but if felt so good that I didn't care if I died or not. I think I'm in love with you" I told Matt.
"I feel the same way about you," he said. " And I need your loving; now it's time to prove your love."
(To be continued)
nick55@kansas.net
sean_dude88@yahoo.com