Big Red

By the time I was eight-years-old, my father was sick and tired of his humdrum existence. Although he worked his arse off in his blue-collar job, he knew that financially he was in a dead-end. We rented our house because there was simply no way that my parents would ever be able to afford their own home. We never starved, but the luxuries that many people took for granted simply didn’t feature in our lives.

I had an elder sister who was eight years older than me. She was very bright academically and with college looming for her, my parents were at wits end worrying about how they were going to afford to put her through college.

One day an old buddy of my dad nicknamed Big Red, paid us a visit out of the blue. One would obviously not get any prizes for guessing why he had been given this moniker. Big Red’s name was actually Kaspar, a name of mostly Scandinavian/Germanic origin, but he hated the name because most people pronounced it as Casper. Not seeing himself as a friendly white ghost, this was an anathema to him. My dad was one of the only people who addressed him by his real name because my father had been tutored successfully on the correct pronunciation.

Kaspar worked on the oil rigs and made a shitload of money. During his visit, my dad unpacked his financial difficulties, before Kaspar then took it upon himself to sort these out for my father.

To cut a long story short, Kaspar was responsible for transforming our economic woes. Within six weeks my dad was employed on the rigs and our lives transformed remarkably over the following few years.

My sister’s further education subsequently became no problem at all and within three years, we were living on a fantastic smallholding in our own beautiful home. Naturally, we missed having my father around because he was gone from home, six to eight weeks at a time. On the plus side, nevertheless, when dad was home it was from four to six-weeks at a time.

As far as the smallholding was concerned, although my father had no real agrarian aspirations, my mother took to our new lifestyle like a duck to water, and in no time she was growing vegetables and had a substantial chicken run.

Mom also joined a weekly farmers market, with the other farmers from the area and apart from selling her stuff benefited from the marvellous bartering system that existed between the vendors. Industrious as she was, cakes and cookies soon materialized in her stall on Saturday’s.

Our dinner table was literally groaning with a wholesome variety of food every evening, because of the trade my mother conducted with the other hawkers, and my father was totally gobsmacked by how little my mom spent on groceries.

The one thing that I was particularly pleased about was that my mother employed a guy called Joe from Monday to Fridays. Joe was very adept at slaughtering and plucking chickens, a task that was simply beyond my capabilities. In return, apart from Joe’s salary, being as generous as mom was, I can assure you that Joe’s family were also very well nourished.

I did not see Big Red again for the following five years after our initial meeting. By then I was thirteen-years-old and my voice had begun to herald my puberty. On this visit, Kaspar ‘tormented’ me incessantly because of this. I wasn’t annoyed by his jibes and ‘embarrassingly’ played along. I really liked Big Red.

Compared to his previous visit, Kaspar, as dad and mom had always referred to him, had put on some weight, making him even larger than I recalled. In addition, on his former visit he had been clean-shaven but now, Kaspar sported a full fiery beard.

It would be another three years before I saw him again. By now, I was sixteen-years-old. Unlike Kaspar’s previous visits, however, this would be a far more prolonged stay.

Allow me to explain:

On most of their rig assignments, dad and Kaspar generally worked on the same oil rig. When my father mentioned that because of all the initials hardships he and my mother had been through, he wanted to take mom on a spectacular overseas holiday. Kaspar, who was unbelievably well travelled, not only arranged their itinerary but also agreed to stand in for mom and dad during their absence, with my sister being away at college, subsequently, Kaspar would be staying in our house for three weeks.

Upon Kaspar’s arrival, an added dynamic to his appearance had materialized. Kaspar had grown his hair which was now shoulder length. This mop of curly red hair, along with an even more substantial beard, gave him the appearance of a lion. He simply looked glorious!

Strangely, I had finally watched the MGM classic, The Wizard of Oz a few weeks earlier and when I saw Kaspar, I felt like I was on the yellow brick road with a far more confident lion.

Kaspar absolutely loved our smallholding and on the second night, after my parents had departed, we again sat in the lounge chatting after he had prepared a fantastic meal. Man, oh, man, could this guy cook.

Kaspar had never spoken about his love life, nor ever mentioned a woman that he might be seeing or was involved with. Dad had always mentioned that Kaspar was a very private person and was therefore, very respectful of Kasper’s privacy.

As Kaspar and I sat chatting, on a whim I decided to tell him about my Wizard of Oz epiphany. Kaspar laughed heartily once I was done, before asking, “So, Kenny, are you a friend of Dorothy?”

I have to admit that the question went totally over my head. Perplexed, I inquired, “I’m sorry, but I don’t understand what you are asking?”

Still chuckling, he observed me in a benevolent fashion before explaining himself.

“Kenny, I have many, much older gay friends. In the old days, apparently, there was a code between gay men when they were in conversation and speculating if a man they observed was gay. The one would then ask the other, ‘Do you think he is a friend of Dorothy?’”

I was still totally confused, but Kaspar could clearly see my bewildered blushing and came to my rescue.

“Kenny, Judy Garland is one of the greatest gay icons of all time, as is her daughter, Liza Minnelli,” he explained.

As the penny finally dropped, my face flushed like a bright red tomato.

“Relax, buddy,” he said, “I’m also gay. On the rigs, however, coming out is simply not an option.”

For the next hour Kaspar told me about his life. He had an apartment in a major city and when he was off the rigs. Amazingly, he also told me that a few years earlier when he had last saw me, he had a strong feeling that I would turn out to be gay. He also assured me that my secret was safe with him when he learned that I had not outed myself to my parents.

Sadly, when we went to bed that night he retired to my parent’s bedroom.

Three nights later, however, when awoke after a brief sleep, Kaspar was sitting on my bed. My heart began to race as his hand gently caressed my torso. After a short while, he shook his head before saying, “Jesus, I’d better get out of here.”

As he left my heart sank and I had a sinking feeling that due to his relationship with my father, nothing was going to happen between us. In as much, as I loved having him around and enjoyed Kaspar’s company, I wanted more. To make matters worse, he kept embracing and hugging me in the evenings. The fucker was driving me totally mad!

A few nights later I again awoke with Kaspar seated on my bed. After I turned my bedside light on, Kasper had a rueful look on his face. “Fuck, boy, you are so beautiful,” he said.

“So… What are you waiting for?” I answered, daringly.

“Well, it’s just that… I have a very embarrassing condition,” he countered, with an apologetic look on his face. I have practically never had a normal sex life and only ever masturbate because of it

“What is it?” I asked.

“Have you ever heard of psoriasis?” Kasper inquired.

“No,” I replied.

Kasper then went on to tell me that he had psoriasis in his genital region and upper legs. He told me that it was really ugly but not contagious. He also mentioned that most people were totally put-off by the sight of it and so hooking up with someone had never been an option for him. I was slightly shocked but did my best to hide my discomfort, wondering how bad it could be. His revelation, nonetheless, overcame me with compassion.

In a show of camaraderie I blurted, “Show me… let me see how bad it is.”

Very gingerly, Kasper removed his underpants and revealed his condition to me. I cannot say that I wasn’t slightly taken aback, but it really wasn’t traumatized. There were a few inflamed patches on the very impressive shaft of his uncut cock. His ample balls, however, bore the real brunt of his condition. The skin was scaly looking and rather rough. In a demonstration of my acquiescence, I immediately commenced licking his nuts. As I did so, his thankful hands began to caress my head.

“Shall I turn the light off?” he asked.

“No, definitely not,” I uttered, before resuming, “Kasper, you are fuckin’ magnificent.”

As I looked up into his moistened eyes, he said, “Jesus, I just fuckin’ adore you.”

Proffering my most seductive grin, I smiled at him before my mouth began to lick and suck his thick shaft.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck yeah,” Kasper growled as he drilled my eager throat.

“Jesus, Jesus, Jesus,” he began intoning as he clasped my head.

“Ah, aah, aaah,” Kasper repeated as his gratification escalated.

“Yes, yess, fuckin’ yessss,” he cried as he unloaded, overcome with elation.

The taste of his jizz was incredible. It was thick, creamy and abundant. In total ecstasy I swallowed like a famished fiend.

If I thought that he was finished after our session, I was sorely mistaken, and I was about to find out that Kasper had only just started. As I would now see, he had only just switched on the ignition and the animal within him began to surface. My body was lifted and thrown onto my stomach, before Kasper pounced on me.

The verbal barrage that then followed from Kasper was extraordinary; “You fuckin’ little bitch, now I’m going to show you, I’m going show you how I fuck a horny little flirt like you. I don’t care how much you scream, you begged for this cock and now I’m going to plow your arse till you can’t sit properly. Do you get me? Do you fuckin’ get me? You fuckin’ bitch.”

I knew that I was about to be ‘brutally’ fucked, but somehow, I couldn’t wait. With his huge hand over my mouth I felt his thick knob drumming at my portal.

“Whore… whore, you fuckin’ little whore, now you are going to pay for your lust,” he cried as his knob plundered my arse. I was unbelievably sore but I loved every second of it. In that instant, I knew that I would become addicted to extreme sex. Once my cries had simmered down, Kasper commenced slapping my face very hard and pulling my hair. This was like an elixir to me and before I knew what was happening, I had shot my load all over the duvet under me, as I had become a confirmed extreme sex junkie!

Kasper now went into turbo drive as he literally bounced on top of me. I was in for somewhat of a shock when he finally came, because his body convulsed hectically while he made the most animalistic sounds I had ever heard.

Over the next ten days Kasper ‘brutalized,’ me night after night. The harder he fucked me, however, the more I liked it.

A week before my folks got back home, Kasper started taking things a little easier with me. Kasper didn’t want my folks to arrive back and see bruises on my body, not to mention the welts all over my backside.

I was heartbroken when Kasper and my dad departed from our home on their next rig assignment.

To my great joy, Kasper and I now remained in constant contact and eighteen months later, when I was going off to a college in the same city where Kasper had his apartment, he and my parents came up with the brilliant idea that I should move into Kasper’s apartment and look after the place while he was away on the rigs. Naturally, my parents were ecstatic because it saved my folks a fortune on res fees.

By now I had outed myself to my parents. When they apprehensively told Kasper about this, however, he assured them that it wasn’t a problem in his life.

It was only when I continued living with Kasper long after finishing varsity that my parents finally realised what was going on. Oddly, this didn’t disturb them as much as Kasper and I had feared.

For me, Kasper’s arrival home after one of his assignments was the highlight of my existence. I was always ‘brutally’ punished for his abstinence and loved every second of it.

My long journey down the yellow brick road had turned into an extraordinary sojourn for me.

Who could guess that Dorothy finally falls in love with a self-conscious lion in my story?