How to Create a Fuckboy

It had been a really good summer. A lucrative summer. Fuckboy and I both knew we would have to cut back our hours of operation once school started. No trips to the beach. No afternoon appointments. But we had a tidy nestegg in the bank now, and I planned on delving into some other ventures for the business, to make up the shortfall. Vera was content that the bills were paid on time. We had a roof over our heads and enough to eat. We lived simply. All three of us didn't need many clothes any more. We had no use for cable TV. We didn't travel much so Dad's old Reatta would fit the bill for a while; despite my new career I didn't need a fancy pimp car to call attention to it. So I kept banking our illgotten wealth against some future need or opportunity.

Fuckboy hadn't had any time off since the Fourth of July. And he certainly deserved some. So I promised him a day at the fair. Every year, a traveling fair came to town the last week of August. We set aside Friday the 31st. Scheduled no appointments for the entire day. That is until 11 pm. That was Jennings' time slot, and Fuckboy liked him, liked to eat his balls, so we planned on getting back home for him.

That morning, Fuckboy was so excited. After breakfast, he rode my cock like a cowboy and then vaped some weed. He kept talking about his favorite rides and games. We skipped lunch because we planned on stuffing ourselves with sinful fair food. As we pulled into the parking lot, the kid's eyes lit up when he saw all the rides and heard all the noise. I gave him some spending money and we went in; well, actually he pulled me in. We rode the roller coaster, the ferris wheel and the tilt-a-whirl. We threw balls into holes, shot at targets, and fished for plastic prizes. And we ate! Popcorn. Fried onions. Hot Dogs. Cotton Candy. Suckers. Corn Dogs. The kid had a cast iron stomach. As he collected trophies,--balloons, hats, prizes,--he made a couple trips to the car to deposit his loot.

Consuming gallons of lemonade, soda, and some mystery blue stuff, we made frequent trips to the porta potties. I know it was Fuckboy's day off, but when we spotted a middle aged guy lurking in the shadows eyeing young lads,--an easy mark,--we made an exception. He was willing to fork over the dough, so Fuckboy sold him his mouth for ten minutes. It must have been tight in the porta potty, but the john didn't complain.

As afternoon gave way to evening, and the lights came on, the fair took on a magical glow. By then we were slowing down. We giggled at the freak show. We admired the manly pirate dancers. We had our fortunes told by the gypsy.

We stood about and watched a face painter at work, who went by the name El Greco. Not one of the typical painters who will just put a rose on a little girl's cheek, or an American flag on your forehead. This guy had definite talent. He was finishing up a small boy about six who asked to look like a tiger. He took his time, painting realistic black and orange stripes on the tot's forehead, cheeks, chin and neck. The eyes were outlined to look like a predator on the prowl. And finally some fanciful whiskers were added. As he worked facing the young man, I noticed things the boy's mother didn't see. El Greco rubbed his thighs along the boys legs, and occasionally let his hand rest oh so casually on the boy's fly. When he closed in to do some fine details, the boy's knees were pressed right into El Greco's crotch. All the while, he distracted the customer with his banter, making him growl and roar as well as giggle and laugh. El Greco was a real artist in more ways than one.

Fuckboy said to me, "I want to get my face painted."

"You want to be a tiger also?"

"No, I want to look like a squirrel, 'cause that's what Jennings calls me. He'll get a real charge out of it when I see him tonight. He'll probably give me a big tip. Hehe."

"You sure know how to please your customers, Fuckboy."

When the tiger went skipping away with his mom, we approached El Greco and asked if he thought he could do a squirrel. "Are you kidding? El Greco can do anything! I'm an artist!"

"So I've noticed." I looked at my watch and thought about Jennings. "How long will this take?"

"A true artist cannot be rushed. I'll need twenty, maybe thirty minutes, with this handsome young man. What's your name, Son? How old are you?" He was already seating Fuckboy on his chair and applying some cream foundation.

"I'm Tommy. I'm eight years old. How old are you?"

"El Greco has lived long enough to study many squirrels. I know just how they look, how they act. I've been waiting my whole career for the chance to create a squirrel. You make El Greco very happy." I could see he and Fuckboy were going to get along fine. I told them I'd be back and headed down the midway. I picked up a tee for Fuckboy that said, "Who's my Daddy?" I hit the john again. After a while, I figured I'd killed enough time and went back to El Greco.

He had done a super job. There was no question that Fuckboy looked like a squirrel. "OK, Tommy, we better get going." The boy would need some time to get his enema and his bath (from the neck down) before Jennings arrived.

"Aww, El Greco was just about to show me his snake."

Nervously, the painter said, "No, if you have to go now. Maybe another day."

Right away I had my suspicions. I asked, "Where is this snake?"

"In his camper. We was just about to go there."

El Greco was shaking nervously. "No really, Tommy. It's time for you to go. I promise, you can see my snake another time."

"Tommy," I said, "Why don't you go get that Star Wars light saber you were asking for. I'm going to talk with El Greco."

We spoke frankly while the boy was gone. Once we reached an understanding, it didn't take much negotiation to come to a final agreement. When Fuckboy came back, I told him the news.

"Well, Tommy? How would you like to spend the night in a real carnie camper?

When he saw the boy wide-eyed and grinning, El Greco explained, "That's right, Boy. Your Uncle said I can pick you up after midnight when the fair closes down and bring you back home in the morning. You'll get a chance to spend a lot of time with my uh snake!"

"Wow! Super!" he swung his new saber around in the air.

"OK, we have to hurry home now and get ready for Mr. Jennings."

"Yeah, Wow. El Greco, did Uncle pay you for my super squirrel face?"

"Oh, no need, it's on the house! See you later, Squirrely"

On the way to the car, Fuckboy asked, "El Greco don't really have a snake, do he?"

"Just the one between his legs."

"Hehe, I thought so."

"Disappointed?"

"Fuck, no. It's gonna be fun sleepin in his camper."

"Don't count on getting too much sleep, Fuckboy."

"Hehe, no. Did El Greco pay full price?"

"He sure did, Fuckboy. So give him what he wants."

"I will."

Next: Sven