The Red Haired League (with apologies to A. Conan Doyle)

by Geoffrey Honaner


Tim said he'd die for a set of roller blades for Christmas.  He did get them. 
He didn't die.  Turning 12 in November Tim believed he was old enough to have
some "grownup" toys, and, well, rollerblades are not for kids.

Problem was, he lived in Minnesota where the snow keeps on falling and staying. 
He'd take out the blades and admire them, try them on, roll about his room on
them, but what he longed for was to get them out on the road.  Yeah!

In April and May he got some time to practice.  By June he was feeling pretty
confident, and when school was finished, he was readddddy!  

He planned to skate Cowper's Hill;  the hill was a thrill on a bicycle, and
wouldn't it be great to have a one-and-a-half mile ride down the hill, making a
turn to the left and crossing the bridge over the river!

Saturday morning Tim left home early.  His parents were going to visit a sick
relative in Minneapolis and figured Tim was old enough to take care of himself
for a day or two.  Tim got up real early Saturday morning, fixed himself a
lunch, gathered his equipment and tied it to his bike, and headed out in the
country toward Cowper's Hill.

It was ten miles out the old county road, and in real farm country.  There were
a few houses out there, but mostly open space dotted by a silo here and there. 
It was pretty safe to leave his bike by the roadside park, and he chained it
just to make sure.  He put on all his equipment, knee pads, helment, elbow
pads, and then laced up those wonderful roler blades.  He felt like such a
stud, even though he really didn't know what that meant.  It was such a turn on
to have those blades that lacing them gave him a hard on.

The road was gentle up and down for the first two miles, and really easy to
skate on.  The weather was in the mid 60s and there was no traffic.  Tim was
sailing down the road, right in the middle.  It was a natural high!  What a
turn on!  The speed!  Awesome!

Tim lost track of safety it was so thrilling.  He was well on the down run of
Cowper's Hill before he even thought of how he would control his speed.  Who
gives a shit!  What a thrill!  Better'n sex!   (Well, not knowing anything
about "real" sex other than Penthouse, he _though_ it was better than sex.)

Tim was rollin'!  Now there is a particularly bad curve down and to the left on
the hill, and you really can't see around that curve, especially from the
middle of the road.  Tim was hitting about 25 mph as he rounded the curve and
found himself heading right straight into the radiator of the biggest fuckin'
semi he'd ever seen.  The trucker pulled the air horn and Tim suddenly swerved
to his hard left to get away.  When he hit the shoulder at about a 45 degree
angle he pitched forward as his feet were slowed by the drag.  

Tim fought for control - he made wild waving motions with his arms and one leg. 
He almost had it - then he hit a cross-tie burried in the yard of a house.  His
feet stopped suddenly but Tim didn't.  He flew through the air in a sommersault
with his feet flying over his head.  He landed hard, and right astride a rail
fence, one leg on each side and his crotch taking his full weight.

If he had landed a few degrees forward his testicles would have taken the full
impact and it probably would nearly have killed him.  As it was it hurt so bad
Tim was afraid he _wouldn't_ die.  He grabbed his crotch and fell off the fence
to his left onto the grass of the house.  He was doubled up in excruciating
pain, and screeming in pain.

Mrs. Elaine Froegger lived in that house.  She heard the horn, and then Tim
screeming, and she ran to see what was going on.  It brought back the terrible
night of just two years ago when her husband was coming home from work.  He
must have been awfully fired, because he turned into their drive on that same
damn curve right in front of an oncoming teenage driver out to set a new LeMans
record.  She recalled with a shivver the air horn, the terrible sound of metal
terring, the screeming and most of all the quiet afterward.

The Froegger's were married just two years when they moved to the farm, hoping
to raise a family.  Elaine wanted five boys more than anything else in the
world.  Now Timothy, her husband, was dead.  Inside Elaine felt dead too.  In
fact, she had not had a stirring emotional feeling since that night.  Not until
now when she began to relive it.

Elaine ran to the spot where Timmy lay, clutching his groin and screeming.

"Oh, my God - my God, oh, My God what a mess!"  She realized she'd have to calm
Timmy down.  On inspection he didn't look too badly injured.  He had a lot of
cuts and scrapes all over his body, but there was not serioius bleeding and no
bones seemed to be broken.  She held on to Timmy and hugged him, trying to wish
away his pain.  She must have held him that way for a half-hour before his pain
was tolerable enough to talk.

"Oh, God, it hurts."

"What hurts, Timmy - where are you hurt?" she asked.

"My nuts!" he wailed, not even thinking how it would sound to her.

"Well, we have got to get you inside and take care of you.  Look, I can help. 
Do you want me to call your parents?"

"God, no!" he spat out through his clenched teeth.  "Anyway, they're not home
till tomorrow night.  Oh my nuts are killing me!"

Elaine helped Timmy get up to his knees and rest there till he could stand,
leaning heavily on her.  He tried to take a step, and screemed with pain as his
forward leg motion caught his scrotum and brushed one of his testicles.

"Just lean on me.  Spread your legs out real wide and take small steps.  Let's
get you inside," she said.

They got inside and Elaine took Tim right to the bathroom.  

"Get into the tub - by the way, what is your name?"

"I'm Tim Crawford," he said with a grimace of awful pain.

"Just sit in the tub.  I'll help you get this stuff off, and run hot water in
the tub.  You sit there and it will help.  My brother was kicked in the -- er -
- where you were by a horse, and that worked for him back on our farm."

Tim was totally unable to bend over to take off anything.  Elaine had to
undress him.  She was especially careful of his skates, seeing how he looked at
them.  She pulled his jersey over his head and arms without difficulty. 
Getting his shorts off, though, was going to be impossible.  He just couldn't
stand the pain now of having them pulled down over his crotch.

"Wait there, Tim," Elaine said.  She went to the kitchen and got some scissors
with a flat side - the kind doctors use to cut away bandages.  "I'll have to
cut away those shorts, because you can't stand the pain of pulling them off
now, and you have to get cleaned up."

Elaine started at the bottom of one leg of the shorts and cut along the seam
right up to the waist band.  Then she did the other leg, and lifted off the top
ofthe shorts.  Then she snipped away the connection between his legs of his
shorts and his jock, and laid them to the side.

Tim's scrotum appeared undamaged.  In fact there was no sign of swelling or of
blood.  He just took a hard hit, and they might be sore, but she was sure there
would be no permanent damage.  But he was covered with mud and scratched up
pretty bad.

Elaine turned on the warm water in the tub and let it fill, rising over Tim's
belly and bringing its warmth to his crotch and damaged testicles.  While the
water was running, Elaine got some Tylenol with codene she'd been saving since
her Tim was in the wreck.  Tim never used much, since he died two days after
the accident.  She pulverized them and stirred them into a glass of Pepsi, to
which she added two jiggers of rum.  It was a makeshift pain killer that ought
to work.

Tim was lying in the tub, and seemed to be a lot better now.  Elaine gave him
the drink and he took it right down.  Since he was so much better, she began to
look at his body for the first time.  His penis was floating just at the top of
the water.  He had some visible hair around his crotch and seemed to be
developed a lot than she remembered her 13 year old brother.  She found her
eyes drawn back to that floating penis again and again.  

Elaine said, "How are you feeling now, Tim?"  She reached between his legs and
ever so gently massaged his testicles.

"Oh, the pain is going down," he said.  "Um, that feels okay.  I think its
helping."

Elaine kept up the massage, and absentmindedly begain to think.  "His name is
Tim - like my Timothy.  Here I am massaging his balls like I used to do my
Timothy.  Oh, I miss you - why didn't we have kids?"

She noticed that Tim was in a daze, the result of all that codiene.  His pecker
was stiff though and standing straight up.  It was so hard that the head was
peaking right through his foreskin like it really wanted to come out and play.

Elaine coaxed Tim up on his feet and dried him off.  His erection if anything
got bigger, and he remained stupified.  "At least, he's feeling no pain."

She led and half carried him into her bedroom and pulled back the covers.  She
helped Tim crawl onto the bed where he was practically passed out.

"Could I?" Elaine begain to wonder.  "His body is so beautiful, and I could
have had a son like him.  Why not?  Who would know?  If I get pregnant, no one
would expect a 12-year-old!?"

Elaine dropped all her clothes and took off her underwear.  She went back into
the bathroom and got some very hot water and a washcloth and returned to where
Timmy lay.  She spread his legs and raised up his ass enough to wash his
asshole and the inside of his legs and then his pulsing cock.  Satisfied now
that washing him made what she was about to do "clean" she climbed on the bed
and straddled Tim.  She took his beautiful pecker and began to tickle her own
love machine with it.  Up and down then in slightly and around, and around and
around.  With her left hand she cupped his balls and kept them ever so warm as
she slowly eased his delightful little cock all the way into her.  Then placing
her hands on his shoulder she slowly began to rock forward and back, forward
and back, forward and back.  Faster, faster, faster, she was swelling now,
faster and faster, and faster, until she felt that wonder spurt of warm fluid
inside her that meant only that Timothy had come;  they were going to have that
child they both wanted.  Wait till she told her sister!

Elaine's on body contracted on Tim's cock as it continued to spurt
periodically.  She felt her own wave of orgasm coming on and when it did she
raised her head and howled just like Timothy used to do when they fucked.  She
lay forward on her Timothy now and just hugged him till she fell asleep.

She awoke the next morning well before the drugged Timmy woke.  Reverting to
her "nurse-like" behavior and having forgotten all about fucking the kid, her
thoughts were once again on Timmy's injuries.  She pulled down the covers to
look at him.  He was asleep on his back.  His penis hung between his legs,
covering his scrotum.  To check him out, Elaine gently took his pecker in her
hand and raised it out of the way.  She slid her hand under his balls to check
it out.  All seemed well.  No redness, no swelling, no blood from the tip of
the penis?  Yes she better check that.  She slid the foreskin back along the
penis and checked out the tip.  No, nothing there.

Better be sure, she thought.  She put two fingers on his shaft just above his
belly and squeezed while moving it up, to move along any blood that might be in
the urethrea. Still nothing.  But now Tim was awake.  His pecker was even more
awake.

"For Christ's sake, lady, what are you doing?"  He didn't shout.  It was more
like an invitation for more.  She stroked down, and he groaned.  "I'm checking
out your equipment to see if there is any permanent damage."

She took away her hand for a moment and Tim grabbed his cock.  "Don't stop
now," he said.  "My balls are on fire but with a great feeling!"  She took his
cock again in her hands and looked at it.  It really was beautiful.  It was
perfectly formed, slightly triangular with a beautiful head under the foreskin. 
She moved her hands down and then up.  Then down.  The head was fully exposed. 
She leaned over and kissed the head, right on the tip.  When she moved back
there was a string on fluid running from the tip of Tim's cock to her lips. 
Tim just arched his back and moaned with pleasure.

Elaine's mind fell back into her marriage bed of two years previous.  She
didn't play this time;  she just stuffed Tim's wet cock right into her and
rocked and rocked again.  Tim responded in the most natural way, arching up his
back and thrusting his hips toward her in perfect rhythm so that every time
their bellies came apart there was a liquid pop like putting your finger in
your mouth and popping it out.

"Christ my nuts - my pecker - Oh, Oh, OH, OH, OHHHHH" and with one final thrust
he came again.  Elaine clamped right down.  "Timothy, this time we succeeded. 
We're going to have boy this time, for sure!" 

It was late that afternoon when Elaine drove Tim back to his bike.  They put it
in the back of her truck, and she drove him all the way home.  Not without some
embarrassment, since he had no pants.  Elaine was back to normal now, and paid
not attention to his crotch.  When they arrived at Tim's house she went in and
got him some pants to put on.  She helped him pull them on and kissed him one
last time as he left.

******

Nine months later Elaine gave birth to twin boys.  They were both born with
great mops of red hair, just like the ring of hairs around Timmy's beautiful
cock.