For The Love of Indian Boys Part VI

Fire! It glows in the distance like a beacon and my curiosity of it has brought me dangerously close. I drop from my brown gelding and tie him to a tall bush. The horse's soft neigh attests to his own nervousness. Where there is fire, often can the presence of one's enemies be found. I'm filled with much suspicion. Without giving time to paint up my face for battle, I crawl over to spy out this nightly scene.

A woman's wretched cry leads me towards her. I try using the tall prairie grass for concealment. Dark mud stains my belly and chest when I cross a very wide, rain soaked deer path at a crawl. My hands feel over the strange path in the dark. I find two straight lined depressions about an arm's length apart. Unlike an animal's many footed signs of passage, this strange beast has left long lines that seem to never end. Something man-made. I pause only a moment longer to consider what my hands have found before entering the tall grass on the other side.

I find the fire at last. It eats on a small wooden house that has fallen on its side near the path. Two dead horses lie at its side. The poor beasts are tied together and to the burning dwelling behind them. Held by many leather thongs wrapping their bellies and tied around haunting open mouths now silent, arrows sprouting from their necks tell of what unfolded. Rounded wheels stick out from the bottom of the small wooden house. It explains to my eyes what formed those lined path markings. This moving lodge with its horses were stopped by enemy bow shots. But where are its inhabitants?

Another cry calls out in the night. This time, it's a boy's high pitched voice. I slowly bring myself though the tall grass and peer out. I can make out several dark forms lying on the ground. The fire has stunned my night vision so I keep still until my sight returns.

Muffled cries come from the two forms before me. Atop one is a warrior. I can't glean from which tribe he's from. The man is naked and mounting the woman below him. A boy is sitting nearby. He's being held by another man. The youth is forced to watch the woman's rape with his cries kept within him by a hand over his mouth. I peer at his captor to see that it's a brave. He hungrily kisses the boy's neck while his free hand feels over the youth's bared chest. Deep groans from the warrior bring my eyes back to him.

As the woman cries sharply below, the warrior humps his butt violently until he's seeded her. A low grunt of satisfaction comes out with is breath. After resting a moment, he whispers something to the brave. Speaking in the tongue of a Comanche, I take his meaning but with great difficulty.

The warrior has asked the brave if he wants to use the white squaw. Many words come from the brave in reply which I can't follow. The warrior reacts by taking up his knife and striking the woman's chest. She is dead before I can aid her had I wanted to! The warrior removes
her long hair with a scalping knife. He fetches his breechclout from the ground and covers himself.

The brave's hands pull on the boy's clothing to bare him. His companion laughs. Strange long leggings and a white undergarment are taken off the boy. His hands are tied behind his back with thong.

Naked, he's brought to his belly by the two Comanche. The warrior holds down the youth's arms while the brave pulls away his front flap. He lays over the boy's backside. Many loud shouts come out of the struggling youth.

The boy ends his cries to suck in a pained breath. I can imagine the brave's fleshy spear stabbing into the boy's ass. I realize with morbid interest that the brave is performing the male-sex act of a hee-man-eh. The brave's body flexes wildly over the squirming boy that
he's raping. I prepare my knife for action.

My best chance for surprise is to wait until the brave has finished. He'll be momentarily exhausted from the lusty act. The warrior may also take his turn in the boy. Such men are always needing to prove their manhood virility.

My night eyes improve. I can distinguish more from the lusty scene before me. The brave appears to be a boy no older than the youth he's raping. Theirs is a matched struggle. The youth tries rolling over the ground to separate their bodies. Only the warrior's hold of his arms
prevent it.

Strange cries come from the youth. I don't understand any of his harsh words. His struggling is ineffective and weak. He acts like a girl. he young brave stabs into his butt like a wild man. I hear the youth's voice tremble with each of his thrusts. The warrior's release in the squaw had been quick. I wonder why the brave performs a lengthy mounting.

After a handful of heartbeats, the young brave releases a low, drawn out moan. His body slows over the struggling youth. The warrior aughs. A loud victory cry from the brave shatters the night. I get the impression that this is the brave's first copulation in another male. I draw my knife.

I leap from hiding while screaming my loud war cry! Before the brave can react, my long knife stabs between his ribs and splits his black heart in two. The warrior turns in surprise and launches himself at me. I try pulling my knife from the brave's body but the handle is slippery with his blood. Weaponless, the warrior and I struggle above the two naked forms. His painted face reveals his fierce hatred. Such a will in him to kill me! I take hold of his arms and prepare myself for a desperate struggle. Will my life end here?

We roll off the dead brave with my opponent disadvantaged below me. Before I can take hold of his neck, his arms reach around me in a tight embrace. His sharp teeth finds my neck and bites down. I howl out in pain! Held to him in death's embrace, I reach out my left hand to the brave's body for my weapon. I pull my knife out with care and turn it around in my hand. With the warrior sucking out my life's blood, I tab into his unguarded back. He screams out in pain. After a long moment, his mouth releases my neck while his arms loosen their hold around me. I take in deep breaths. I'm thankful to be the one left alive...

"You are allowed to live," announces the old chief. "Yet forever are you banished from our tribe! You leave us not as a brave or even a man. And you will never become a warrior. Only a strange boy will you remain since you turn from the path given you by the Great Mystery. Though you have loins of a male, your hands were destined to take up a woman's gathering basket instead of a man's hunting spear. Your acts with the boy only attests to what our shaman knew to be true. By refusing to wear a squaw's dress you set yourself apart from us. Your life is twisted and we do not accept you. Go!"

Tears wet my face when reliving my chief's strong words. If I were named a brave before this night, the taking of these Comanche scalps would have set me on the honored path of a warrior. They are my first kills. Yet all I have gained is a boy and a dead woman.

I roll the dead warrior off me and take back my knife. The brave's naked body is crumpled on his side. The youth is gone! Having risked my life, the boy rewards me by running away. I cast my eyes on the dark path for his tracks and tune my ears to the night.

The sound of running points my way to the boy. I race through the tall grass and come upon him. My arms reach for his shoulders in a gesture for him to slow. He sprints away instead. I give chase and tackle him to the ground. He struggles with fists to my chest and face. One strike lands on my bloodied neck. I'm painfully reminded of the warrior's bite there. I embrace the youth tightly while speaking to him
in a soothing voice. It's becomes a long struggle.

The boy's body in my hands is exciting. His flesh is soft and warm to my touch. I manage to hold him within my lap with his arms pinned under mine. After a while, the youth tires. We sit in the prairie grass until we recover our breath.

The sound of approaching horses fill me with dread. The fire has attracted the attention of others. Men from which tribe? Comanche warriors would find their dead tribesmen and seek revenge while Kiowa warriors would take their unguarded scalps and ignore me if I came out to claim them. I'm given no safety or honor in either situation. I hope the youth understands our peril and will remain silent.

We rise together and walk in a round about direction towards my horse. The boy's feet often stumble and makes sounds against the dry rass, angering me from his ignorance! I take hold of his hand and lead him quickly to where my horse is tied. By the light of a sliver of Grandmother Moon, my eyes widen when I glance back at the boy. His hair is light in color and his face also seems strange. I pause only a moment longer to study him. My hands feel over his body and notice his large butt. His stomach too isn't as lean as it should be yet it's his light hair that amazes me greatly. This boy is not of the Plains People!

The strange boy pushes my hands away and he begins to speak. I quickly cover his mouth to quiet him. His body tenses up. Fearing that he'll try to run again, I grip his arm while slowly removing my hand from his mouth. Doesn't he understand the peril that we're in?

The boy nods his head. He surprises me with an embrace. Our bare chests press wonderfully together. Deep feelings come into my heart from
this boy's obvious longing. Yet when he cries, I realize with sadness his true reason for it. That dead woman back there may have been his mother. I prevent my hands from lowering to his butt. I was tempted a moment ago for a more lustier embracing of our flesh.

Rain Stomper's nickering brings me out of the boy's embrace. I go to my horse and untie him from the bush. The boy squats to the ground to empty his butt. He groans in pain. I smile from my morbid memory of having witnessed his rape. If the situation were reversed, I'd have welcomed that young brave's use of my butthole. His seed would have been kept in me until I'd drawn all its power into my being. This boy
is quick to rid himself of the brave's unwanted gift.

I jump over my horse's back and offer my hand down to the boy. He takes it and comes up behind me. I glance about for any signs of the horsemen. Finding none, I choose a direction to make good our escape. Rain Stomper takes us slowly away from the fire. Behind, my young companion lays his weary head on my back while I take us to a safe night camp.

I ride throughout the night. It has become very dark with Grandmother Moon's departure to sleep. My eyes are heavy. I find a stand of trees and make my way nto them. After going far enough inside, I dismount and take the sleeping boy down to the ground with me. His naked body stretches out over the mossy ground while I tend to my horse. Weapons, food, water skins and a blanket are taken from Rain Stomper so that he may rest. Though the blanket is sweat-soaked, I lay it over the youth to keep him warm. I dig out a small hole to lay my body in for the night. Only a short moment passes before my eyes close. Deep sleep takes me at last.
Tomorrow is Summer's Eve! I'm to undergo the naming rite that will make me a brave. I'll be able to bear weapons and hunt as a man. And I'll be expected to take me a wife though I don't desire for one to be brought to my lodge. Several girls in the tribe have cast their hopeful eyes in my direction. They know that upon becoming a brave, I can take any one of them to be my squaw. Yet I've ignored their hopeful glances and choose instead to love a boy.

Pony legs is a year younger than myself. He's a handsome boy who's been my good friend for all of my life. He feels sad to lose me and takes us to our secret place on the river. We'll swim together and make love one last time as boys. After tomorrow though, to be caught taking his need into me could cause dire consequences.

We drop our breechclouts on the bank and enter the shallow river. In its middle, I sit down with Pony Legs coming into my lap. His long legs wrap around my backside while I take hold of his soft rear in my hands. Our lips meet and we kiss deeply for a long while. Below, our long poles slowly rub against each other with love's rhythm.

Our love making is usually of another kind. The more satisfying position of me on my knees with the youth pressed into my body from behind. I enjoy his manly thrusts through my butt. I've been acting as his squaw for a year and have taken much of his sperm. No baby from it. I'm glad to retain my male identity. Yet I enjoy giving the youth my body as if I were a woman.

Pony Legs squeezes my butt in time to our increasing thrusts. I pull on the boy's backside in that same lusty beat. My erection is soon to squirt against his. Our passion keeps us from seeing the shaman's angry approach.

"Stop this, Blue Pebble!" the man shouts. He takes hold of my long hair and pulls me from the youth's embrace. "I've suspected that you were performing male copulation with this young boy and now I've caught you! No brave will you become on the morrow. You're hee-man-eh."

I alone face the angry shaman. Pony Legs has run away. In a calm voice, I beg, "forget what your eyes have seen, shaman. I don't want to be a woman! Tomorrow, I'm to be named a brave."

"Our chief will make the final decision," the shaman replies. "Accept what the Great Mystery has chosen for you, Blue Pebble."

I thrash over the cold ground at the shaman's words in my head. His angry voice fades when I rub my sleepy eyes in the night of the now. It's dark still. My body feels chilled from my cold sweat. Again, I have dreamed of that terrible day from two summers ago. I think back to its result. Nothing bad happened to Pony Legs. Our chief claimed that he was a young boy who wasn't responsible for his actions. I knew that he was protected by his strong warrior father. A worthy consideration upon the chief.

I had no father to defend me. My mother was laboring for others to provide for our small lodge. Even worse, the shaman knew that I hated him since the day my father had died under his care. Some believed that his healing medicine had grown weak. All these things had set me up for the harsh judgement from our chief. He commanded me to wear women's clothing and to perform the duties of a hee-man-eh. Our tribe already had one aged cross-dresser. I loathed to think that I would have to live such a life so I went against my chief's council. He banished me from the tribe.

Now I hunt and live a lonely life on the plains without a home. Although warriors of the Kiowa won't seek my scalp, neither will they accept my very presence. I'm banished from our tribe's camp as well as from the People's hearts. Only a boy do I appear to those who see me. My name is Blue Pebble, a boy.

I recall the events from last night. My eyes go to the youth under the horse blanket. I hear his soft breaths. What am I to do with him? He isn't of the People and shows such an ignorance of plains living. He'll be a burden to my travels. Therefore, he must be taken back to his tribe. The People of light-colored hair.

I sit in the darkness and listen to the boy's breaths for a while. My body hungers for his embrace again. I can't force him to rape me nor am I interested to perform on him what that Comanche brave had done. My love-acts with Pony Legs were freely offered and taken. That is the only way I would allow this boy to nter my arms.

I sigh at my longing and dashed hopes. My body is restless though. What harm can come from sharing our warmth under the blanket? Surrendering to this last thought, I carefully scoot under the blanket next to the boy's heated form. His back is to me. I scoot up close to him and turn away. The boy remains asleep. I hear his gentle breaths and risk more. With only my shoulder blades whispering against him, I remove my rear butt cloth. Then, carefully and slow, I press my backside onto his.

The boy's soft flesh feels nice against my butt. It fills me with a woman's desire to be taken. Yet my loins are a man's. I hunt to provide for myself and tonight I've killed two men of an enemy tribe! My path does seem twisted. Yet it's the only life I know.

My heart races from my stolen backward embrace with the boy. I feel our building warmth. With our butts touching, I know that sleep won't claim me for a while. I plan out how to coax the youth to me. It's been a few years since I've touched another human being, let alone a boy. I would welcome his lusty use of my body. He's of age to have that aching in his loins and the knowledge of how to release himself. It would be too much for me to hope for love.

I feel an erection forming under my front flap. Touching butts with the youth along with my lustful thoughts has excited me. I carefully reach down to handle my aching length. The building thrills are soothing. It casts my pain away; the aches of my body and of my spirit. I feel like I'm floating on a cloud. Sleep claims me.

Pony Legs waves to me from across a large stream. All my love for him swells in my breast. I ask him to cross over to join me. Yet he remains on his side. Perhaps he fears the water's strong current. I'm not afraid so I enter the stream and start crossing over to him. Yet a great wave sweeps me away. The boy of my love is left far behind. The waters of time takes me to what will be.

I awaken with a start. My ears careful listen to the forest around me. Nothing. I don't sense anything amiss. The boy's warmth still presses against me. Perhaps he stirred and that had awakened me. I close my sleepy eyes to rest for a while longer.

My eyes pop wide open. I feel something tickly against my backside. The boy must have turned around during the night. His left hand rests on my shoulder. I feel his right arm between us over the dirt. What excites me is the part of him touching my butt. I flex my body to investigate it further.

While slowly arching my back, I stick out my butt to the boy. His erection is plainly felt against my right cheek. A lusty plan forms in my head. I doubt if it'll succeed but I'll enjoy trying it.

Ever so gently, I flex my cheeks to move away from the boy's cock. I spit to my left hand. I bring that hand down my side and push my wet fingers inside my crack. My hole easily takes one finger into it. I keep still for a moment to listen. His breaths remain even. Removing that finger, I pull on my left cheek to open my butt. I slowly back onto his erection with careful aiming. A sharp thrill goes through me from what I've accomplished.

I feel the tip of the boy's hard cock against my hole. My fingers relax. The cheeks of my butt come together around his erection. I listen to his breaths for an agonizing long moment. The youth remains asleep. Now I can begin coaxing his sperm into me in earnest.

My butt starts with small flexings. A suggestive in and out rubbing against the sensitive tip of the boy's cock. If he has ever mounted a squaw, his body will know how to react to my lusty movements. I bring my left hand to the front of me. I'm so excited that my cock is oozing. I spread its wetness down my curved shaft and take it in hand. An enduring patience is required now. It could result in a very exciting and successful hunting for me this morning!

I continue to coax a lusty response from the boy. His swollen tip is just within my hole. I relax my inner muscles to open myself more. I daringly push my butt onto his cock, swallowing him in. My hand slowly rubs over my erection for pleasure. I'm very excited by what I've been able to take from the youth so far.

A small sound escapes the boy's lips. My body becomes still. I wait for a long moment to see if he's awaken. No movement. The youth continues to sleep. My body is restless though. I back my butt against his groin to fully impale myself on his long dick. My butthole feels the passage of his knob through me. His groin hairs crunch against my cheeks.

I gasp in surprise. The boy's thrust! His tip pushes on the sensitive place deep within my butt. It causes my dick to surge. I've not felt the pleasure from being mounted for such a long time that my flesh is reacting too severely. I stop pulling over my cock. My mouth quietly takes in small breaths to prevent my loin's explosion. It's very difficult.

My body trembles under the horse blanket. I try to remain still. Yet my body is tense like a great bow with an arrow fitted into it and the string pulled back. I wish that the boy's fleshy arrow would shoot into me! It's hard to have our bodies this close to joining without something happening.

Streaks of sweat run down my back and tickle my butt. It contrasts the pain of my pierced butthole. My body is on fire. Breaths try to rush through my mouth but I prevent them to keep myself silent. The boy hasn't made another move.

I begin again the flexing of my buttocks. My hole sucks on his big cock. There's more of his length inside me than I realized. I wonder how long the boy is? I'm not sure of his age. His groin hair is thick and coarse against my backside. I would imagine that the size of his erection is that of a man's. A boy of fifteen? He's old enough to have been named a brave in my tribe.

My butthole is eager to feel more of the boy's thrusts. Yet he remains still inside my body. If I were to slam my ass over his cock like I'd want, the violence of that act would awaken him. He may pull out before gifting me with sperm. I must be patient like the hunter who is close to catching his prey. My gentle motion around his cock should be able to trick the release of his seed even while he's still sleeping.

I tighten and loosen my butthole with a slow and deliberate beat. The boy would have been making that motion with his thrusts. I feel his fleshy knob deep inside me. His cock gets thicker towards his body. I wish that I could have seen his full size before getting it inside. From the aching of my butthole, I know that his is a big dick.

Intense feelings are building in my erection. I don't even have to handle it. My hand rests at my side. The sensation of squeezing around the boy's cock sends exciting thrills into my aching cock. I can't prevent my release any longer!

The boy stirs behind me. His fingers dig painfully into my left shoulder. I feel his deep stab through my butthole. His gasp for air. My hands rush into motion. I reach back for his butt to keep our bodies connected. My cock swells up and cums. My right hand catches its many squirts. The boy cries out as if in agony.

I feel the tip of his cock throbbing inside my butt. The boy's strong releases going into me. His butt flexes wildly under my hand. I'm trying to keep our bodies together for as long as I can. I want my butt to catch all of his loin's flow.

The boy's hands strongly push on my back. We separate. I gasp from the painful sensation of his thick cock pulling from my butthole. The horse blanket is kicked from our bodies. The youth gets up and angrily stands over me. He acts like one who's had something stolen from him.

I rise before him with a sly grin. His eyes are wild and he shouts at me with raised fists. I don't understand why the boy is so angry. It wasn't as if he was the one getting raped. Not this time.

I take this moment to look the boy over in morning's light. He has pale skin to match his light-colored hair. A freckled face. Small nose. What surprises me most is his deep blue eye. He looks like a strange spirit that I've wisked away to my peril. But I have felt his flesh and know that he's mortal.

The boy calms down. He looks at my dripping cock and the pooled sperm in my hand that I reveal to him with pride. His eyes widen. He looks down at his erection which bears my brown stain upon it. I turn sideways and slap my butt with a bright smile. The youth gasps in revelation.

Many thoughts must be going around in the boy's head. His eyes become glazed and lifeless. He recovers after a moment. I take up the horse blanket and shake it free of dirt. The boy reaches down for my rear flap and uses it to wipe off my butt stain from his dick. I reach down for my front cloth. Before I hang it over my thong belt, I reach back to my butt and wipe off my sperm-filled hand between my cheeks. This was a love rite I had often performed for Pony Legs after he mounted me. The act further joined us together.

I throw my blanket over Rain Stomper. From the ground, I fetch a water skin. I untie the spout and pour water into my hands for my horse to drink. He eagerly laps it up. I glance at the boy and find him looking around for something. At his feet is my soiled rear cloth. There it shall remain. I will go naked from behind to remind myself of how I coaxed a pale boy-spirit to seed my butt. It was quite an accomplishment!

I drink from the skin after my horse. The boy gestures for the water skin. I hold it out for him to take. He approaches slowly before grasping it. It pains me that there's little trust in him. Yet I suppose that events from last night must be weighing heavily. He lost that woman whoever she was to him and possibly others that I didn't have time to search for. My lusty trick this morning wasn't taken well by the youth. I shrug my shoulders in dismay.


My stomach rumbles. I search for my pouch of dried meat. Last night was to have been spent in hunting. Discovering the fire changed everything. I don't regret my rescue of this youth and what followed. At least not yet.

I open my food pouch and pull a few strips of dried elk meat from it. This is my emergency supply. It's to be used when I fail to catch an animal, become hurt, or have to spend days evading enemy warriors. It's difficult not to have a tribe to belong to. I'm always on the run.

The boy returns my water skin to me. He stands at my side and watches me eat. I hand him a long piece that I've been chewing on. The youth accepts it reluctantly. He grimaces at its taste. I shake my head in dismay again. He's so strange.

With our meal finished, I start packing up my horse. I'm glad that the boy helps me. I take the water skin from his hands and secure them to Rain Stomper's side. He grabs my spear, bow and quiver. I become nervous since I'm weaponless save for my short knife. The boy hands me these things.

The youth turns from me and walks away through the pines. I become anxious until seeing that he's finding a place to relieve himself. It makes me realize my own need. I lift my flap and piss after turning from my horse. My butt could be emptied as well. Yet I want to enjoy keeping the pale boy's seed in me for a while longer. It may be powerful medicine.

I mount up. My butt is hurting from having taken the boy's thrusts. My lack of butt cloth brings a smile to my face though. I'll be enjoying that sweet memory for many moons. Sadly, I don't have anyone to share my story with. Even if I were still Kiowa there wouldn't be many friends who would enjoy hearing about my clever trick. Only that aged hee-man-eh and Pony Legs would be amused. A pang of sadness fills me. I wonder how the boy of my love is doing back at the tribe?

I lead my horse to the white youth. He pisses a moment longer behind the tree. My eyes take this moment to study what I can see of him. The length of his golden hair barely reaches his slim shoulders. A very pale body! My gaze falls down his back to his rounded backside. This youth has eaten well in his white tribe. He turns around to face me. His belly isn't flat as it should be though not actually fat. His chest and arms show strength. Pink nipples push out from his breast. Hanging below his dark groin hair is a strange looking penis. It's missing a thick skin around it. His sack of balls is almost a handful.

What captures my attention are the boy's blue eyes. He stares back at me a moment before lowering his gaze. I offer him my hand to mount up behind me. The youth talks instead. His words are strange sounding and holds no meaning for me. His hands try making hand-talk: outstretching arms, a finger pointing at himself, my horse, then to the prairie behind us. I shake my head in reply.

I watch the boy begin another gesture. One that Ican understand. His hands press over his loins and his butt. After covering himself, he tugs on my front flap. I reply by shaking my head. The boy is to go naked since I've no spare animal hides to give him. I remember his use of my rear cloth and point back to our night camp to where it lies. He can use that for his loins if he must. A dumb stare from him again. I shrug my shoulders and sigh.

My hands reach down for the boy. This time, he allows me to bring his pale form up my horse to sit behind me. His hands come loosely to my side. Our bodies aren't touching. I shake my head at his strangeness. When I kick Rain Stomper ahead, arms rush around my stomach. The boy's body presses close to mine. I smile. He's a very rebellious and perhaps even a stupid boy. I really need to return him to his white tribe before he gets himself lost or killed. A heavy burden for me to carry. He became my responsibility when I saved him from death.

My thoughts turn forward. Where should I start looking for his tribe? A memory from last night drops into my head. It comes together with things that I've heard about the white men and their strange ways. I saw their moving wooden house and the lined tracks over the wide path. It must lead back to their encampments.

I keep my horse at a walk. We'll keep to the forest for a while since to show ourselves in daylight would be dangerous. That lined path is deep in Comanche territory. I'll only take to the prairie at night.

Images from last night come to mind. The fire that drew me; two dead horses, the white woman's rape and murder. My finding this handsome boy. He was worth rescuing! My butt hasn't felt the pleasure of being seeded for over a year. How I yearn for more to happen between us; a joining of hearts. That may not happen. I task myself at returning the youth to his People. Yet I'll keep my heart open to receive his.

The morning turns into a very warm day. Father Sun is high above. The trees have sheltered us but our bodies have had to endure their stinging branch fingers. Rain Stomper becomes heated. A heavy sweat covers his shaggy body. I drop down from my horse to water him. The boy eagerly drinks from the other skin before handing it back to me. I drink sparingly. The skin is light in my hands. There's a real need to be finding water soon. I'll keep my eyes open for signs of it.
I swing the reins over Rain Stomper's head to lead him. The boy is content to follow behind my horse. I glance back at my sweaty, uncovered butt. If that were Pony Legs with me, he'd not be content to follow behind the horse but would keep close to me. I'd only have to bend over to coax his dick up my butthole. This white youth acts like a shy girl.

A clever plan forms in my head. I call out to the white boy and get him to hold Rain Stomper's reins. I walk ahead and feign tracking while bending down low. This gets my butt to open. A pleasant tickle fills my loins from my vulnerable stance. My pace is a slow one. This keeps the youth close behind me.

An erection is quick to grow against my belly. I turn to the boy a few times to be sure that he sees it bulging under my front flap. My sly smile makes clear to him my intent. When I pause to study the trail, my butt sticks out again. How can he resist it? I continue to follow the deer path. My hope is that it'll end at a stream. My body is very sweaty. I itch around my shoulders and upper back from the scratchy bushes and tree branches. I'll be glad to find a cold stream to wash in.

I look back at the boy. He has Rain Stomper in hand with his eyes down casted at the ground. I notice his weariness from the heat. Red markings cover his chest, shoulders and neck. His body is very sweaty. My eyes look low at the boy. A smile comes to my lips from seeing his excitement there. Sticking up against his hairy groin is the boy's erection.

I marvel at its size. This is my first opportunity to view it when erected. As my butthole had discovered, the boy's dick has a large red knob. Not brown and small like those of the Indian People. No thick skin around it. His dick isn't curved either. It becomes wider towards his groin. I'm surprised that my butthole had managed to swallow it whole.

I rub over my butt with my hand to draw his lusty attention. The youth continues to stare at the ground like a bashful girl. His unwillingness to take my offering is puzzling. I wonder how I'll trick his seed into me this time?

To ease the aching in my loins, I reach my left hand under my front flap. My quick handling is thrilling and makes an obvious rubbing sound for the boy to hear. I won't bring myself to release from it yet. This is yet another trick that I'm using to coax the youth. I rub over my butt again. He must notice my desire for our bodies to come together. His cock is hard enough. Why does he wait?

My attention returns to the widening deer path. Smaller paths cross over or join up with it. A very good sign. I bend low to study a line of clawed markings that appear fresh. My eyes see that a raccoon has recently come this way. This small brother likes keeping close to the water. I lift my head towards the sky in thankfulness to the All Seeing Father. A cooling swim is soon to be ours!

I turn around when hearing a rubbing sound from the boy. One of his hands clutch the horse's reins while around his long cock is the other hand. Popping out from his pale spear is its blood-red tip. I notice his excitement from the way it drips into his quick hand. The youths eyes are closed.

My woman's longing to get dicked becomes overwhelming. I back my butt onto his moving hand and aim for the tip of his cock. My sweaty cheeks open around the boy's oozing knob. I feel its heated tip on my butthole. A sharp thrill goes through me. I press my ass against his hairy groin and feel his cock pushing into me. His hand is still rubbing over the skin of his erection. I try pulling his hand away but he resists. Why?

An idea comes to me. I reach back for the boy's butt and grip him there. My butthole tightens around his swollen knob to keep it inside me. With a strong pull on his backside, I force the boy's thrust. All of his cock slips through my butt. His voiced breath fills me with dread. I hope that the youth isn't already sperming me!

My wild hand over his backside begs the white boy to keep fucking me. I need to feel my own pleasure and release. He responds. His hands grab for my hips and surge. I'm glad that the boy finally performs a man's duty at last.

I glance back at Rain Stomper. He wanders to a bush to nibble on its green leaves. I push my concern for the horse out of my head. A tremendous surge goes through my erection. It comes from the boy's unaided thrusts. My hand relaxes over his flexing butt. I'm thrilled to feel the power of his lust using my tight body for its release. He'll be cumming soon.

I feel my own powerful release building up in my cock. I reach down for my front cloth and pull it away. It falls at our feet. The youth's body slams into mine; his hairy groin crunches against my sweaty cheeks with each savage stab. I feel all his power from our mating through his cock deep inside me. The boy has a very long one. Yet his thrusts doesn't hit upon that tickly spot in my hole. I reach out for a small tree and bend over. Small lightning bolts flash in my eyes. His
cock presses on my thrilling place with each of his deep stabs. I moan out from its thrilling sensation; my womanly feelings of pleasure. Our mating is good.

The boy's breaths blow hot over my sweaty back. There's no pause from his lusty efforts. No willingness to trick his hard loins into a lengthy pleasuring by pausing to keep its thrills from building up. Pony Legs had learned how to control his sex. He would prolong his first climax or release himself twice during one mating. I enjoyed giving that clever boy my butt to sperm into. His heart was one with mine.

I cry out a lusty wail when feeling the pleasurable squirts coming out my cock. My seed flies to my belly. Deep satisfaction! I quickly recover from the thrills in my loins. My butt thirsts for the boy's release. I'm surprised that he hasn't put seed in me yet.

The boy's efforts are frenzied and chaotic. Without a proper beat, he holds a breath for a long moment before blowing it out over my back. His hands bring my butt to him for a few quick stabs. A pause to rest and he takes in a deep breath. He seems near his release but unable achieve it. I wonder at the youth's lack of control.

A realization sweeps through me. I scold myself at my ignorance. The boy has already spermed me and tries for his evasive, second release. All the signs point to it. He must have cummed in me when first sticking up my butt. I suspected it when hearing his voiced breath earlier.

I task myself to aid the frantic youth. My inner muscles keep a tight squeeze around his wild cock. I also slam my butt against his body when he stabs. His large breath! The youth cries out. I imagine his strong flow going into me. My sore butthole feels the tip of his throbbing cock. Proof of his seeding. He sucks in breaths as if drowning from our wild mating. I pat his backside to signal to him my pride.

The boy holds onto me while he recovers. I feel his sweaty body trembling. This is a tender moment for us both. My heart feels the approach of his heart. Already, my flesh has enjoyed the wild passions from his flesh. Yet my head warns me to be rid of this troublesome youth. He doesn't know our Indian ways! How do I listen to all of my inner voices?

Rain Stomper's affectionate nudging startles the youth. His arms push me away. My butt is pained when he pulls out his cock. I feel a trickle running down my balls and left thigh. To complete our mating ritual, I gather up sperm from my belly and join it with the boy's seed flowing down my crack. This sacred act makes us one.

The leather thong to Rain Stomper's mouth is taken in hand by the white boy. I retrieve my cloth from the dirt path. My butthole pushes out more of the seed it has captured. I keep my legs pressed together to stem the urgent flow. With the stream close at hand, I make my way towards it. The youth pulls on the horse's reins and follows me.

I cautiously step into the sunlight. My eyes spy up and down the small stream for enemies. I also listen for telling sounds. Nothing alarming touches upon my keen senses. We're alone here. I look at the stream's disappointing flow. It's too small to swim or to even sit in. I look further down the stream and discover a small pool. Eagerly, I walk to it. The youth ties Rain Stomper to a tree and follows me.

I step into the small pool. The water is cold but not overly so. I sit down while gesturing for the white boy to join me. He pauses from doing so. I signal gain for him to sit down. The boy points at the pool and at my body taking all of its width. I release a hearty laugh. We've joined our bodies in love but now he's shy to join me in a stream! My hands beg for him to sit in my lap.

The youth steps between my crossed legs before lowering himself onto my thigh. I reach around his pale body to steady him. The pool isn't deep. It only comes up to his navel. I'm glad to share his warmth in this small pool. An urgent push comes from inside my butt. I release all the precious boy-seed that my hole has been trying to hoard. The stream steals it away. I peer into the youth's blue eyes. He gazes back. My hand affectionately pulls over his butt cheeks. How wild they had felt in my hand when he was mounting me! I hope soon to have our bodies joining again.

Tears well up in the boy's eyes. His face turns red from the deep emotions that he's feeling. For me? Arms fly around my shoulders and the youth buries his face into my breast. I hear his agonizing cries. All the pain from last evening is coming out with his tears. He wails like a little girl. A boy his age should have better control. Yet I hold his trembling body in my arms and wait for his weak moment to pass. A deep sadness fills my spirit.

I look at the green trees rising above us. They watch over our embracing forms; my loving hold around a boy that I wish would love me back. My heart is hurting. It doesn't find that special feeling in this white youth like I had with my Pony Legs. That was a love all three of my inner voices sang in unison. With this boy only our flesh has become one.

I pull away my front flap from its thong belt. With it, I wash over the boy's shoulders and back that were scratched during our trail walking. My handling soothes him.

The stream flows past our bodies for a long while before the boy quiets down. He's in much pain. Only a shaman from his white tribe can drive away the demons tormenting him from that night of fire and death. I can only help the youth by bringing him back to his People. My hand reaches for the sky in a prayer to the Great Mystery. Please! Aid me in this task!

The boy rises from the pool with a red face. He wipes the remaining tears from his eyes. I nod my head in approval. With my front flap in hand, I wash over my itching shoulders, chest and back. My body has felt the brambly bushes and tree branches all afternoon and welcomes the water's cold relief. I get up after cleaning the rest of my body. The youth is filling up my water skins from the stream. I smile.

Rain Stomper's long neck stretches towards the cool water. I let him drink his fill. This stream's waters are sweet. My cupped hands refill three times before my own thirst is satisfied. I look around for danger.

After washing my face, I wring out my breechclout and hang the one cloth over my loins. My hand slaps over my butt soundly. I lustily glance at the white boy. He rolls his eyes in disbelief. I suppose that he's not ready to mate with me again.

I take up my horse's reins and lead us along the stream. It should bring us out of this forest. Darkness will fall by the time the trees fail and the prairie begins. I'll try finding the white man's lined path in the moonlight.

Father Sun soon falls from His sky. It grows cooler, especially with a damp front cloth and nothing for my butt. I take the naked youth into my arms to share our warmth. We have become friends. No love for me though. It's enough to have rescued the white boy from that Comanche brave. I've been rewarded with the sweet embrace of his young body several times now.

We stop to eat from my pouch and to rest our legs. The forest is difficult to navigate in the darkness. Grandmother moon casts her sliver of light and points me out to the prairie. We leave the forest behind us with its sweet memories. Danger lurks out here.

I mount Rain Stomper and pull the boy up behind me. His arms reach tightly around my waist. Our bodies come together in warmth. A great happiness fills me from having a traveling companion. It's been a long time since anyone has been with me. A handsome boy at that. Sadly, I've asked the Great Mystery to help me return this white youth to his People. If I accomplish this, then alone again will I become.

I drive this troublesome thought away. My eyes look about for danger while Rain Stomper canters over the rolling hills of the prairie. I steer clear of where we were last evening. My direction is more towards the right armed heading of where the sun sets. I hope to hit upon the lined path there.

The youth rests his sleepy head against my back. All of the night is spent without my finding a path. It'll be morning soon. We'll have to hide in the tall grass when Father Sun wakes up.

I'm about to give up the search when my eyes spy a dark road between the grassy hills. I kick Rain Stomper to a gallop. The boy wakes up and asks me something in his strange language. I ignore him while my heart fills with hope. Yes! It is the white man's wide dirt path. I pull on
my horse to investigate it further.

The sky grows lighter behind us. A bad time to be studying trail signs. I drop from Rain Stomper to feel over the dirt path. My hands plainly make out the two lined grooves in the earth. The white boy drops down from my horse. He excitedly points to the markings and speaks words I don't understand.

Rain Stomper roams to the path. He curiously sniffs at some old horse droppings. I angrily gesture for the boy to keep hold of his reins. I shake my head in disappointment. The signs are old. They're probably from that doomed party of white men this boy was a part. I shrug my shoulders. I'll head us in the direction from where they had come.

We mount up. I can feel that the boy is very anxious from our discovery. How I wish that we could talk. He could have explained things to me and tell me what his People are all about. Mostly, I would have liked to know if he was interested in me for more than a friendship. I would welcome him as a traveling companion. Much could I teach him.

I kick my horse to get him to run. It's dangerous to be one man out on the prairie. The boy keeps a tight hold around me. His loins rub over my butt with each galloping stride. The violent motion gives both of us erections. The horse's bouncy ride prevents our body's connection though.

The long night turns into morning. I become more and more afraid at
our lone appearance on this dirt trail. Are there eyes upon us? I wonder
if this white boy knows how to use a bow or spear? This is the land of
the Comanche. My eyes have seen what they do to their captured enemies.

The white man's dirt path goes on and on. Father Sun peeks at us with
his golden head. I look for a place for us to hide. The boy has long
since lain his weary head against my back. My head also feels heavy.

The safety of the trees are left far behind. Before us are the
rolling hills of golden grass. The white man's path continues far
beyond. I leave the road and head us towards an outcropping of rocks.
A river has worn away the dirt to form a cavity between them. This
hiding place will do until the darkness returns. Rain Stomper eagerly
heads for the water.

I drop down from my horse while carrying the sleeping boy to the
ground. A pile of my belongs pile up beside him. I cover the youth with
a blanket. Before joining him, I attend to a few tasks. My horse is
watered and I fill all the water skins. I track around our hiding place
for signs of animals and of man. There are none. I mark several escape
routes in my head should we be surprised during our sleep.

Wearily, I lay under the blanket with the white boy. My arms reach
around for his warmth. He stirs a little and moans out as if in pain. I
keep his body close to mine until he quiets. What struggles are
unfolding inside his sleepy head? I have Rain Stomper tied up nearby.
He'll have to guard over us. After whispering a solemn prayer to the
All Seeing Father, I close my eyes and let sleep claim me.

(A lone warrior rides into the small camp. His arrival should have
alarmed Rain Stomper but the horse is unable to see his fleshless form.
The man drops down from his pale horse to study the pair sleeping beneath
the blanket. A sign of recognition fills his ghostly face.)

(The warrior smiles. He sees that the young man has his arms around a
youth of golden hair. Happy memories fill him from that time when he had
been the boy in that man's arms. A few years have passed. He no longer
bears a boy's name but that of a proud warrior. Just like his father. It
saddens him that this young man still goes by his boyhood name of Blue
Pebble.)

(An eerie wind sweeps through the camp. Its hand blows past the
sleeping pair and into the golden rolling hills. Rain Stomper looks
nervously about. His aged eyes had glimpsed the ghostly form of a man
riding upon a horse. They are gone now. Like the wind. The sun sets in
the west.)

I slowly awaken. These past few days have made me weary. Things have
been done, distances traveled; I've not had such excitement since my
banishment. My hand reaches for the youth. His body is warm to my
touch. A pleasant sensation goes through my butthole. It wants to drink
from his dick again.

The boy stirs from my caresses. He stares up at the sky with those
deep blue eyes of his. The look of his pale face still haunts me. I
wonder what he's thinking? My hand reaches low on his body. The tuff of
his groin hair guides me to his penis. It's soft and moist in my hand.
I palm over it so that it will grow.

Words come from the youth. They're soft sounds that I don't understand.
He knows that we don't share a language. Yet the boy continues speaking.
Perhaps he voices a prayer to his God. Maybe he only talks to himself. I
get the feeling that he's talking to me; telling me things that he needs
to have said. My heart is touched by the sound of his words.

I lay my head over the boy's breast. The sound of his heart fills my
ear. It's a strong, steady drum beat. The sweaty lime smell of his skin
excites me. My hand feels the stirring of his loins. Our bodies will
join soon to make love. A pang of sadness fills my heart. I get the
premonition that this will be our last day together. Another boy
taken from me.

I turn my face towards the boy's sweaty breast. His pink tits draw my
lusty attention. I mouth over each hardening nipple. The youth's breaths
quiver. I know that he's feeling good. My mouth wanders down his body.
He giggles when I mouth over his sensitive stomach. I wander lower.

The boy takes in a sharp breath when I kiss over his big cock. I'm
still amazed by its size. Its knob is like a huge crimson mushroom.
Deadly to my small butthole. This white boy can fill my squaw body to
capacity. My Pony Legs had a smaller fit inside me. His heart was big
enough for me though.

I cast away my long ago memory to enjoy this new boy. I sample the
sweetness of his sexual oozing. My mouth goes down on it. I can't get
all of his manly shaft to spear into me. His length makes me gag
otherwise. I begin a sucking motion. The boy breathes in deeply.

I'm worried that he'll release so I pull away from his long cock.
It's not that I wouldn't want to drink his seed; my butthole enjoys
more being filled from it. I lay in the dirt over my stomach with my
butt pointed to the sky. I hump it suggestingly to the youth.

A handful of heartbeats passes in silence. I turn my head to stare
back at the reluctant youth. He's taken his big cock in hand, stroking
over its length. His blue eyes seem shy. I spread my legs. My butt
sticks up from the ground... Take me!

I feel his weight over my back. He sits on my butt. Hands come to my
back and rub over my muscles in small circles. I'm surprised by the
boy's actions. He massages my body as if he were a loving warrior
taking care of his squaw. I relax over my folded arms and moan.

It's a long massage. The boy's hands feel over my neck, shoulders and
all of my long back. His fingers form different pressing techniques.
Hard pushings followed by light fingered pleasuring. Their People are
knowledgeable with the use of their hands!

The boy rests. He still sits on my butt though no erection pushes
from his groin. I haven't felt it tickly over my ass cheeks for a while
now. An idea comes to me. It's a fair trade for the wonderful pleasure
he's given to my back.

I turn myself under the boy. His butt presses over my hard loins.
When he tries to get up, I keep his body to mine with my hands around
his waist. I urge him to lay over my body with his. The boy reluctantly
does so. I sigh when feeling the warmth of our touching skin.

I stare into his blue eyes. He returns the stare for a moment before
looking away like a bashful girl. I pull his head to my breast. His
breaths warm me there. I feel the growing of his cock. Mine is already
swollen against his. I'll soon show this boy a wonderful love act.

My hands reach low for his butt. I begin a suggestive pulling motion
over him there. It gets our dicks to rub. The boy gasps. He feels the
pleasure of our sweet joining. I continue to pull over the youth's
backside with loving hands.

The boy's hands reach up for my shoulders. He eagerly joins into
battle with his cock against my cock. I startle some when feeling his
mouth over my breast. He kisses my nipples! I feel them harden from the
boy's lips. The wetness of his tongue swirls against my sensitive
spots. Yet another thing the boy shows me from his white People.

Our bodies become frantic. The boy lifts himself over my body with
strong hands gripping my shoulders. He grinds his big cock over my
throbbing cock. They meet in lusty pleasure. My hands become savage
over his butt. I play over his sweaty butt cheeks like a war drum I'm
striking. The boy cries out.

I feel a warmth on my belly. The boy cries out again when releasing
his hot seed to my body. My butthole is disappointed. It had wanted the
boy's huge cock in it again. Yet my heart is glad for the boy's loving
embrace. I rush myself towards the sweet release building up in my loins.

I roll our bodies over the ground until I'm on top. My cock slides
over our slimy bellies with a wild man's rhythm. My breaths hold. I
open my eyes to stare into the boy's. Our faces come together. My lips
find his rosy lips and press hard. A kiss. My cock erupts between our
heated bodies. It's very sweet!

I wail out. My sperm flies from me in wonderful drum beated thrills!
Five squirts. I notice that the boy has turned his head away. He doesn't
like kissing, it seems. Breaths race through my mouth. When my pleasure
fades, I lay fully over the pale youth. He squirms beneath my weight.

I drop my knees to the ground to sit over the youth's pale body. His
slimy cock tickles against my ass. I hump over the boy to entice an
erection from his groin. He has already released but I may be able to
coax him to perform again. I stare into his deep blue eyes for a sign
of his willingness.

My hands rub over the boy's sweaty breast. This gets him to close
his eyes and moan. I smell our mingling cum. My fingers scoop some up
for a quick taste. Very musky! The rest of it is smeared over my swollen
cock. I enjoy the feel of our milky sperm around my penis. I'm hoping
to get another strong flow from this boy's loins into my butthole.

I continue to rub my butt over the youth's heated body. My hands
massage his upper chest. I notice some faint hairs there. Thin and
blond like on his head. It surprises me. None grow on even the oldest
warriors of the Plains People. Our brown bodies are smooth. These white
people are strange indeed!

I pull over my slimy cock to keep it erected. Below me, the boy's
penis has gone to sleep. My butthole, sadly, won't be filling with it
any time soon. I hear a heavy breathing sound from the youth. His eyes
are closed. Has he fallen asleep?

I keep myself from laughing out loud. Our love making has worn the
boy out. My penis is long and fills with its tense urge to release
again. I pull over the thick skin to get its brown tip to pop out. Our
cum makes it a slippery motion through my tight fingers. I hold breaths.
The youth below me may need sleep but my body is restless. I arch my
back with each of my forward stabs. My butt slips and slides over the
boy's warm body. I enjoy the feel of his moist skin below.

The boy's penis tickles against my backside. It's growing long from
my lusty motion over it. Snores continue to come from the boy's mouth.
He's still sleeping. I move my legs apart to open my butt. The boy's
hard dick lifts into it.

My clever trick from this morning comes to mind. Will I be able to
trick this boy's cock into me again? I slow the lusty pace around my
dick's thick skin to delay my needed release. My efforts go to another
task. I move my butt until the knob of the white boy's cock hits
against my hole. My hands grasp his sides for support. I lower my
weight over his groin. A penetration! The slipperiness of our bodies
makes it an easy fitting. My butt has trapped his maleness into me again.

I tighten and loosen the muscles of my asshole. The boy's thickness
still amazes me. It fills my insides like a warrior's deadly spear. And
like in the hunt, I force the boy's weapon to wound me again and again.
My hand resumes its lusty task around my hard penis. The thrills there
build up. Once again, I've managed to join the boy's body to mine
though he sleeps.

I try making our sweet loving a lengthy one. When my dick feels
ready to surge, I slow my hand around it. My butt keeps up the steady
pace of the boy's forced thrusts through it. His length and thickness
through my hole feels good. It satisfies my womanly desire of taking a
man's sex in me.

I glance down at the white boy's face. Loud breaths move through his
mouth in sleep. There are lines of tension over his freckled face. I'm
surprised that the boy doesn't awaken. Our bodies are intimately
connected and surging. Love's seed will soon flow to each other. Yet he
ignores the efforts of my love for him. Why?

A deep pang of emotion grips me. It's as if a ghostly hand has hold
of my heart. Whispered words fill my ears. They tell me that this
moment with my pale youth is the sweetest point in my life. A brief
time. When he is gone, I'll be alone again. On the run from enemy
warriors while ignored by men of my tribe who chance upon me. The ghost
words shout out for me to make a change in my life!

A sharp sensation shoots through my hard dick. I gasp when my cum
flies to the boy's belly. My butthole tightens and a surge goes through
the cock inside of me. His lust fills me up. I enjoy this brief sweet
moment like the eagle who's dared to fly high into the clouds. My
flesh, spirit and heart are soaring high!

The intense feelings soon wane. My wings become still and my body
drops down to the earth. I slowly open my eyes. Eyes of blue stare
back at me. His hands over my butt loosen while his cock slows its
thrusts through my slimy hole. He awakened at the end to finish his
manly duty. I accept his seed. Any love for me?

My heart gets squeezed again. I look around for His ghostly form. No
warrior. His warning is taken to heart. My head races with thoughts. Is
this boy my new life? I shake my head in disappointment. No. He's not
of the Plains People and he needs to be returned to those of his kind as
I've promised. I should also return to my own kind.

The white boy speaks. I try listening to his strange words but not a
one is understood. I shake my head. His body is restless below me so I
lift myself off his groin. Some pain is felt when the boy's long dick
pulls wetly from my aching butthole. I smile at the thought that some
part of his life remains inside me.

I slap over my sweaty cheeks with a grin. The white youth shows me
bashful eyes. He's performed as a man yet a girl he appears to me. I
must appear strange to him. My butt has played the squaw though I've
proven my manhood through battle when I rescued him the other night.
Yes. We are both strange human beings.

The white youth rises from the ground and stands before a bush. I
hear the strong splash of his urine against it. My bladder pains me as
well. I join him at the bush. Our two yellow streams cross above the
dirt for several heartbeats. His lips form a sly grin. I laugh.

At its finish, I turn to the boy and hold him. He reluctantly
accepts my arms around his back. Our wet poles touch. His hands slowly
reach around my hips. I'm puzzled by his shy behavior. Am I the first
person that he's made love to? Perhaps he's troubled by his male
desires. We haven't a language between us for me to ask. I hold the
youth close to my body for a long while of warmth. I've enjoyed his
sexual embracings but I can see that he's not the One for me.

A strong longing for Pony Legs fills my heart. My ghostly visitor
reminds me of my early thoughts. Why not return to my tribe? A banished
person isn't expected to survive a year on his own. I've managed two
summers. Much have I learned on my own. My manhood was proven in battle
with that Comanche brave and warrior that I've killed. It's time for me
to return to my own People!

I release the white youth in my arms. He stares into my eyes with
those haunting blue eyes of his. What does he want? When he looks at my
horse, I realize that we should be leaving this place. I've found his
People's trail and need to run it out to their camp. My promise unto
him to be fulfilled.

We break camp. The white boy helps me to pile my few belongings and
weapons onto Rain Stomper. I don my front flap as any proud man should
to cover his male nakedness. Only from behind do I beg lusty attention.
I'm not ashamed of my womanly desires to get fucked. But I won't wear a
dress for it!

With a strong resolution in my heart, I face my life with the changes
that will have to be made. The white boy will return to his tribe and
so will I. A great burden is lifted from me. I look forward to seeing
old friends, especially Pony Legs!

We mount up. The river is left behind when I kick Rain Stomper
towards the white man's trail. I keep my eyes about for enemies. The
growing darkness should protect us. I'm comforted by the boy's arms
around my waist. His warmth against my back is nice. I feel that this
will be our last night together. So be it. He's helped me to face
myself. I now face my life as a proud man.

All night long we travel down the white man's lined road. The boy
lays his head against my back in sleep. Grandmother moon lights the
way. I'm traveling deeper into the lands of my enemies. I hope that the
white men will find us first.

Morning comes. My body is weary from all our traveling. I'm alarmed
by the flatness of the plains. No good places to hide ourselves. I keep
my eye out for a safe camp. I'll need to be sleeping soon.

Fear grips my heart. I spy a dust cloud ahead of us. I slow Rain
Stomper to study its meaning. The youth behind me is excited. He jumps
down from my horse before I can ask him to wait. I hope it's one of
those white man's moving lodges rolling down the path. I get my horse
to chase after the foolish boy.

A moving lodge comes into sight. Four horses are pulling the squeaky
house-on-wheels. Two white men ride on top. One holds the reins while
the other points a stick at me. A fear comes over me. I've heard about
the white man's lightning sticks that kill easily. I'm about to gallop
away to safety when the boy runs up and holds my arm. I lift him to sit
in front of me. He anxiously faces the approaching men.

I see the intelligence of his act. He's protecting me from getting
shot at. My earlier attempt at escape may have been in vain. I've
heard how long distanced the white man's lightning sticks can shoot. It
wouldn't go well to have rescued the boy from death and to be killed in
my attempt to return the boy to his People.

The noisy white men stop before us. I keep my eyes on the man with
the long stick. For now, he points it up towards the sky. My boy speaks
words to the men. A door opens from the lodge with a feathered head
sticking out. The strange figure turns into a man who wears a rounded
head-covering with a feather sprouting out from it. Sharp commands from
the reins-holder man gets his house guest to stay inside. Another face
peeks out the lodge's window.

It's a long talk between the men and my boy. It ends when the youth
drops down from my horse. I dismount at his side. He's about to walk to
the lodge when in turning, he gives me a tight embrace. My arms welcome
him. I feel his hand reach down and slap my backside. It makes me laugh.

We part slowly with his deep blue eyes staring into my face as if
trying to remember me. I nod. The boy turns away and walks to the
wooden house. The door opens. A man I've not seen before steps out to
greet him. A blanket is given the youth to cover his nakedness. He goes
inside with the man.

The two men riding on top give me a long stare before the reins-holder
man gets his four horses to run. I watch the wooden house speed down the
path until it fades from sight. On the dirt path is left the fresh lined
markings of its passing. I quickly reach down to take some of the
pressed dirt into my hand. This I ritually rub across my butt in the
hopes that the boy's path and mine will cross again.

Squad Boys

Jimmy has arrived at summer camp. This timid boy has two weeks to explore things away from the strict confines of his mother's apron strings. He hopes to meet new friends, play fun games, participate in authentic Indian rites and just be a happy, care-free boy. A gentle man shows Jimmy how to have sex.

The busload of anxious boys passed under the arched wooden entrance and came to a dusty stop. A loud cheer rang out. Jimmy joined the throng of high-pitched voices as an excitement grew in him. He'd seen the carved wooden sign through the bus windows that read 'Camp Shingobeck'. This was where he'd be spending the next two weeks of his summer vacation. Hurray!

He nearly didn't make the trip. His mother was a strict, worrying single parent who wasn't easily persuaded to allow her only son to go off to camp. Jimmy managed to convince his mom that he was no longer a little kid needing her twenty-four-hour protection. He'd just turned thirteen after all!

Jimmy bounced impatiently over his seat. The other twenty boys were also clamoring to get out of the bus; it had been a long five-hour trip. Their nineteen-year-old guardian named Kirkland was no fun. He'd proven himself to be a mean kind of guy who kept all the boys in line with his shouting and veiled threats of punishment. He wasn't allowing anyone to leave yet.

Anxious minutes passed. The bus driver looked to Kirkland who only shook his head in reply. Jimmy squirmed anxiously over his seat like the other boys. 'What are we waiting for?' he wondered. 'Nothing fun is happening!'

Kirkland stuck his head out the bus window looking for something. Behind him were muttered complaints from the boys to be let out. He shook his head in disappointment at the camp's lack of a welcoming committee and tried coming to a decision. He left his seat to go talk with the bus driver.

Jimmy couldn't follow what was being said. 'What's the problem?' the boy wondered. 'The wooden sign had proved that this was Camp Shingobeck. Hey, everyone's anxious to get out and start having fun!'

The bus driver raised his voice at Kirkland. It could be heard that he wanted to let the boys out of his bus. After a tense pause, Kirkland slowly nodded his head though his eyes glared with anger at the man.

A door switch was pulled and the weary driver watched the young teenage boys race down the steps and out. He was glad to watch them go. Jimmy was pushed over a seat when he tried making his way down the aisle. He turned around and gave the shover a mean glare. It was a fat boy named Arnold; he answered Jimmy by sticking out his pink tongue.

Jimmy struggled back into the line of eager boys and found himself standing outside the bus. The air was cool. He looked around in wonder at the tall pines, breathing in their pleasant scent. A younger boy pointed to some wooden buildings in the distance. They looked like old shacks to Jimmy. What caught his attention was a rope ladder hanging down from a huge oak. In its upper branches was what looked to be a club house way up high. It reminded him of his father... how he had died. Jimmy shook his head to cast away that tragic memory.

The group of boys started spreading out to explore until a sharp command from Kirkland kept everyone together. He ran around and yelled at any boy who didn't fall in line. There were a few low boos made behind his back. He wasn't much liked.

Jimmy kept still. He was a good little boy who listened to what he was told. Anyway, that's what all his teachers had said to his mother in praise: 'You have a fine, obedient son.' Something had gnawed in Jimmy when he heard this account of himself. A friend had once told him that he was a mommy's boy.

This year would change that. Jimmy wanted to start doing and thinking things for himself; he didn't need his mom to be making decisions for him anymore. When the opportunity came to go off to summer camp, Jimmy saw it as his chance to prove that. He wanted to have fun and explore things on his own.

This quest was shared by many if not all of the boys who stood waiting with Jimmy. Their young faces were filled with smiles and bright open eyes wanting to explore. Kirkland stood frantic before the hoard. He was barely able to keep them all under control.

Someone called out in the distance. Jimmy saw a tall black man walking towards them over the dirt trail. Kirkland waved his hand in greeting and Jimmy noticed the obvious relief showing on the young man's face. 'He`d been scared!' the boy realized.

An excitement grew in the boys. They saw that the black man was dressed in an Indian costume; he wore head feathers and colorful face paint. A war shirt of yellow leather matched his breech-cloth and leggings. Moccasins covered his enormous feet. A few boys laughed at the absurdity of him.

The black man stopped before the boys with a solemn face. It became silent. He pointed at himself and announced that he was Chief Charcoal, the camp leader. That caused a ripple of laughter from the youths. He explained that everyone here would be getting an Indian name; a name that described some trait or appearance of each boy. Someone called out 'piggy' and Arnold raised his fists in anger. He tried to find out who had name-called him. Chief Charcoal laid his hand over the Arnold's shoulder to calm him and suggested that 'Angry Fists' would be a good Indian name for him.

Kirkland announced that he was to be called 'Heavy Stomper'. He warned that any boy who didn't listen to what he told `em to do would get stomped on by him really hard. No one laughed. They knew that he was a mean guy and that his threat was true.

Chief Charcoal went to Kirkland and whispered something in his ear. The young man kept his eyes on the group of boys and glared when someone tried wandering away. Something must have been said to Kirkland because he turned to the black man with anger. He then put his hands on his hips and turned away.

After an awkward pause, the black man left Kirkland's side and asked that he bring the boys onto the barracks. The chief began making dancing steps and he sang like an Indian to the boys' amusement. Kirkland ignored him.

Jimmy felt growing disappointment. He knew what a real Indian was supposed to look like and Chief Charcoal wasn't even close. He was only a black man. The brochure for Camp Shingobeck made it seem like Indian things would be going on here.

Some of the other boys also felt let down. They had endured a miserable bus ride with Kirkland and Chief Charcoal wasn't making it seem worthwhile. Jimmy also thought it was obscene that the black man's butt could be seen flashing under his rear breech-cloth. He'd rather peek on the near-nakedness of a real-live Indian like he had seen in the picture books he often enjoyed looking through in his school's library.

The black man continued to sing and he raised his arms to break the boys' dark mood. Kirkland got the boys to follow him down the path. It led back to the old shacks that Jimmy had seen earlier. The bus driver
began unloading packs from the belly of his bus. He cursed while tossing
them carelessly to the ground. Kirkland noticed and ran back to scold him.

The hoard of boys walked noisily behind Chief Charcoal. They ranged in ages from eleven to sixteen and their voices were high-pitched and filled with growing excitement. Camp Shingobeck had claimed to be a fun place in the brochure. Jimmy began having doubts though.

A wooden totem pole came into view. It was a quarter the height of the surrounding pine trees and bore the images of animals like the eagle and the bear. Jimmy noticed that parts of it were cracked and that the painted colors had turned dull. It looked worn out. The single-story buildings they were walking towards also looked bad. He hoped that Camp Shingobeck wasn't going to be more of a disappointment.

The younger boys seemed not to mind. They danced around the black man chief and touched parts of his Indian costume. Smiles filled their faces. It made Jimmy mad to see them being fooled. He wasn't as naive so he kept back in the group to show his disappointment. Some of the other boys also fell back.

Jimmy found himself walking between two older boys. The one on his left had the dark complexion of a Spaniard from his short black hair and facial features. There was an attractive curve to the boy's butt in his tight blue jeans. 'How would he look in an Indian breech-cloth?' Jimmy wondered.

The boy on Jimmy's right had long sandy-blond hair that flowed down his back. His body was very slim. A peculiar odor came from his clothes like the burning smell of fire. There was a squarish shape in his upper shirt pocket. Jimmy realized that it could be a pack of cigarettes. A forbidden thing for him to have.

"Parker, give me a smoke!" asked the Spanish boy while reaching into his friend's shirt pocket.

"Not now," Parker whispered. His hand clamped tightly over his pack of cigarettes. He noticed Jimmy walking between them and looked down at the youth with concern. "What's your name, kid?"

Jimmy blurted it out. He sensed that Parker was worried about him having seen the cigarettes so he added, "Can I have one too?"

That made the boys laugh. "Yah, right kid. Have you ever smoked one before?" asked Parker.

Jimmy meekly nodded his head but doubted that he would be believed. He had once found a cigarette on the ground near school, but like a good boy had thrown it into the trashcan without ever considering smoking it. He wanted to do so now. `Summer camp is for trying out new things,' he told himself.

"Later," said Parker. He paused from walking so that Jimmy could get ahead of him. The Spanish boy returned to Parker's side with a grin. Jimmy looked back at the two boys. By the happy expressions on their faces and from they way they walked close together, he sensed their strong friendship. A thing he longed for himself.

Someone jabbed Jimmy in the ribs. It had come from a boy of fifteen who pointed at the tight bulge in the front of Jimmy's pants. An obscene gesture was made that caused another boy to laugh. Jimmy's face burned with embarrassment. His hardness had come from his need to piss and he told the tormentor that it had been a long bus ride. The fifteen-year-old only shrugged his shoulders and walked on ahead of him.

Jimmy wondered if there was a toilet in the wooden buildings and realized that the boys ahead of him would probably get their turns first if there was. His filled bladder really hurt him. He didn't think that he could wait to piss.

The passing trees gave Jimmy an idea. 'Why not go into the woods?' he thought. Kirkland came to mind. 'He would probably yell at me.' Jimmy came up with a plan though. He paused from walking with the feigned act to tie his shoelaces. The other boys passed him by without a care. When he was about to straighten up, a hand came to his butt and patted it. It was the Spanish boy walking with Parker.

Jimmy spun around to face them. Parker returned the youth's glare with a silly grin on his face. The Spanish boy stared at the boy's hard-on showing through the front of his pants. Jimmy noticed the hungry look in that boy's dark eyes... It kinda frightened him.

The Spanish boy tried reaching down to feel Jimmy's erection. The youth backed away in confusion and blurted out, "I really got to piss!"

"Don't be molesting the kid," Parker warned his friend. He turned to Jimmy and pointed at the woods. "Go ahead.We'll wait for you here while having a smoke."

Jimmy watched Parker pull out his pack of cigarettes and remove two. The Spanish boy produced a small book of matches from his hip pocket and he lit the cigarette given him. Jimmy turned for the woods in a rush. He ran past a few pine trees but slipped behind one to peer back at the two boys. They were standing on the path to smoke. That assured Jimmy that he would be alone when he pissed. He had the strange notion that the Spanish boy wanted to peek at his dick!

Jimmy walked deeper through the woods. When an appropriate spot was found near a bush, he unzipped the front of his jeans. A sharp tingle came from his dick. It was anxious to be freed from his shorts so he angled its hard shaft to piss down at the ground.

The dull pressure around his bladder slowly eased. Jimmy sighed with relief as he pissed; a strong flow went out of his long pink dick. His fingers kept a tight hold of it. When his flow ebbed, he squeezed on the shaft causing a thrilling sensation to come from it. That was a neat trick that he'd recently discovered.

Jimmy had heard about boys handling themselves for fun. Though it was spoken of in low whispers around school in a way that made it seem like a bad thing, he had tried it when in the shower. Pinching the shaft of his
dick made it grow long and holding it brought him pleasure. The privacy of the bathroom kept his naughty act from being discovered by his mom.

The following months had proven exciting for Jimmy. He watched his body getting bigger. Muscles grew in his arms and legs. His height had nearly reached four and a half feet! These distinctions were noticed by his mother. What she didn't see was how his dick had grown thicker and how dark hairs were growing above it. A true mark of a man! With the boy's maturing had come strange urges in him. Sexual ones.

Jimmy lingered beside the puddle that he had made over the ground. He wanted to squeeze over his erection for a moment longer. Its sharp thrills were enjoyable and he half hoped that the Spanish boy would catch
him doing it.

This hope in the boy led him to daydream: Jimmy imagined himself standing in the pool's shower room with all the other naked boys. Soap was passed around along with shampoo. That provided an opportunity for quick glances to be made at one's neighbor. Beyond this interaction, each boy kept to himself in the open stalls.

Jimmy was drawn to looking at the naked bodies... He saw mostly butts. When he could spy on a boy's front, a deep pang filled his chest. He stared at the boy's water-slick penis and sack of balls in a kind of hunger that went beyond simple curiosity. His peeking caused his dick to rise.

Jimmy tried covering his excitement with his hand. That drew the attention of a Spanish boy who nodded knowingly at him and grinned. He turned to Jimmy to show off his brown erection with pride. It was of length that seemed of manly proportions to the youth. A clump of dark hair curled above it.

The Spanish boy gestured for Jimmy to pull away his cupped hand from his groin but the youth felt reluctant to reveal his smaller dick; it was no match for his brown companion's hot tamale.

They lingered in the showers while the other boys went off to dress. When they were finally alone, the Spanish boy stepped into Jimmy's shower and turned round. He pressed his brown butt against Jimmy's. His hands reached for the youth's hips and held them tightly.

It was a dangerous yet immensely exciting moment for Jimmy. He didn't exactly know why the Spanish boy wanted to stand close with him under the shower but the soaring feeling from it kept them butt-to-butt. He reached his hands back to hold the boy's dark hips. Their slippery butts pressed together. A humping motion began that thrilled Jimmy; an electric tingling went through his hard dick.

Jimmy turned his head and looked down at their touching. His Spanish companion had a nicely rounded butt that humped against his smaller pair of cheeks, brown on white. The shower made their bodies slippery against each other. It enhanced their skin rubbing thrills. Very exciting! Jimmy wondered how the Spanish boy knew that he'd accept their touching and not run away to tattle on him to the others. Was more going to happen between them?

Laughter echoed through the shower room. Jimmy looked up in horror as their two swimming instructors walked past them. They stared at the two boys with smug grins. Hands flew away from each other's waist. Jimmy ran out of the shower room to find his locker. His shaking hands worked the combination lock but without success. Against his belly, his aching erection drew curious looks from the boys around him. His great embarrassment mixed with stark naked fear. 'Was it a bad thing that he'd done with that boy in the shower?'

Jimmy's daydreaming ended. He remembered the humiliation and confusion the incident had given him since it had really happened. Luckily, the swimming instructors never spread word of what they'd seen. That older boy who had touched butts with him wasn't Spanish as he'd daydreamed but white like himself. He had whistled in the shower room afterwards as if calling out to Jimmy.

`Is it okay to like boys that way?' Jimmy wondered. He often thought about that shower room incident but with different boys taking their place behind him to rub butts. They would always be older than himself and showing him what to do. That Spanish boy smoking back on the trail seemed interested in him. Jimmy wanted to try touching butts and do more things if was all right with him.

A stick broke over the ground behind Jimmy, ending his daydreaming. He turned abruptly at the intruder and was surprised to see that it wasn't a boy. A dark-skinned man stared back at him. An Indian! He wore regular clothes and had long black hair. An ugly, scary-kind-of-a-face peered back at him. Jimmy had been stunned for the moment before thinking to cram his long dick back into his jeans.

"Who are you?" Jimmy gasped.

The Indian man bowed his head. "I am Mister Burrows. Sorry to scare you," he whispered. His toes wiggled over the mossy earth.

Jimmy smiled at the Indian's lack of shoes and was calmed by the man's soft voice and gentle ways. Mister Burrows stood only a little taller
than himself; non-threatening. After clearing his throat, Jimmy tried thinking of something to say to the Indian in reply. Something to explain away what he was caught doing to himself. Nothing came to mind so he lowered his eyes to the ground in shame.

"What is your name?" asked Mister Burrows.

"Jim..." he stuttered. "I'm Jimmy McClair." The man grinned, nodding his head in understanding. The boy lifted his eyes and looked into the Indian's changing face. It didn't seem so ugly anymore. The man had a rough-skinned appearance but his smile was warm and sincere.
Jimmy felt confused. 'What is an Indian doing in white man's clothes?' he wondered, 'and the name seemed wrong... Mister Burrows? What kind ofIndian name is that?' A boldness came to the youth when he asked, "Are you a real Indian?"


The man nodded. "I'm of the Cheyenne People. The first generation to be freed of the Reservation."

'Freed?' Jimmy thought. He wondered for a moment if this man had run away from prison or something. 'Maybe that's why he wore regular clothes.' "What are you doing here?" the boy asked.

"Ah... I'm the janitor," he answered softly. "A summer job for me."

Jimmy was satisfied by the man's answer. It seemed truthful. At school, he noticed that all the janitors were dark-skinned Mexicans or black men. 'This camp would be a great hide-out for an escaped Indian,' the boy thought.

Mister Burrows looked down at the ground by the boy's feet, at the puddle soaking into the earth. "That a good spot," he said with a grin. The man stepped closer to the youth while releasing a low sigh.

Jimmy watched the Indian man reach into the front of his pants and pull out his brown dick. The boy gasped in surprise. It looked very different from his own. He saw that the man's dick bore a thick skin around it. A moist head popped out from the shaft when the loose skin was pulled back. A yellow stream burst out from it. The boy could only stand there in shocked silence and watch.

As Mister Burrows pissed, Jimmy noticed a few dark hairs peeking out the front opening of the man's pants. It reminded him of the new growth of hair he was getting above his own dick; blond hairs though. The Indian's were black like the long hair flowing down his back.

Jimmy lowered his eyes to the ground. He saw his puddle grow with the man's urine and noticed his bared feet again. The man's toes wiggled. It was a sign to the boy; Mister Burrows may wear a white man's clothes but he had kept his feet uncovered like a real Indian.

The boy looked for more signs. He saw that the man's arms and legs seemed longer than they should be. The pants were loose around his waist.'At least Mister Burrows isn't a fat Indian!' he mused.

The man's flow ebbed. His hand pulled over the length of his brown dick to get out all his urine. The act seemed to take longer than it should... A startling idea came to the boy. What Mister Burrows was doing looked similar to what he had done after pissing here. 'The man had caught me
playing with myself. Is he trying to make fun of me?' he thought.

The Indian man's dick grew long. Very long. With each hand stroke, the moist brown head popped out with a sucking sound. It curved upwards a little. More of the man's dark hairs sprouted from the opening of his pants. The slow rubbing was fascinating to Jimmy and a bit scary yet he stood as if rooted to the ground to watch the Indian's dick handling.

A clear oozing came from the knob's piss hole. It spilled to the man's moving fingers in sticky strands like honey. Jimmy smelled its sweet scent in the air between them. He knew that he was watching some kind of adult male act.

The man's shirt rippled open. Jimmy noticed the bulging strength of the Indian's chest and arm muscles. It was attractive to the boy. He saw the dark skin around the man's open collar and knew that it came from summer tanning than from his Indian heritage. The youth had a desire to see if the man's body was brown all over.

Jimmy's eyes wandered up to the man's face. His dark eyes were wide open; piercing. They captured the boy's and something flowed between them. It sent a shiver down the youth's back. He managed to break away from the man's eyes so that he could look down at the rubbing motion. 'A really long dick!'

The man pointed at the bulge in Jimmy's unzipped jeans. "Pull it out," he asked. "It good to make a hard penis come out."

The boy was startled. It surprised him that the Indian wanted to see his hard dick again and that they should be squeezing them together. Jimmy thought of running away yet he was excited by what was happening so he considered doing what the man asked.

Jimmy unfastened the button to his jeans. His fly was already unzipped but he wanted the Indian to see more of his body; the white underwear that he wore and the bulge from his erection within it.

A brown hand was reaching into Jimmy's open pants before he knew what was happening. The man's fingers drew his erection from his shorts and got it to stick out in the open. Sharp thrills came from the gentle fingers around his pink shaft. The timid boy closed his eyes. He couldn't believe that someone was actually touching his dick.

"A man teach the boy this thing," Mister Burrows explained. "When a boy shows hair, it's custom in our tribe to bring in his manhood spirit. A good rite to perform between us."

Jimmy heard the man's words. 'A rite?' he thought. 'An Indian rite?' The boy opened his eyes and looked down at the man's brown hands. They were moving slowly; both filled with a long dick. The Indian's ritual was a sexual one, Jimmy realized. Its pleasure made the awkward situation between them more bearable.

Mister Burrows switched hands. He brought his wet hand around the boy's hardness and continued masturbating him. His own dick was let be. Manly oozing soon covered the youth's dryness to make for a slick handling. Jimmy gasped in sweet pain. He peeked through eyeslits to watch the Indian's ritual. It became a slow, rhythmic pulling of his pinkness through the man's brown hand. The boy wondered why the man's long dick wasn't being handled.

A low humming filled the air between them. Jimmy listened to the harsh tune and he could hear words being sung. Not English words.

"Take my in hand," the man asked. He continued his Indian chanting.

Jimmy watched his left hand reach out to the hard brown dick as if without thinking. It felt warm and soft under his fingers. He squeezed the thick skin and made the rubbing motion that the man was making over his pink dick. The brown knob oozed into his palm. Its sweet scent was strong.

The man's harsh breathing caused gasps in his humming. His Indian song ended. "We stand as man and boy together to do this thing," explained Mister Burrows. "A father shows his son to do it; I stand in his place."

Jimmy was startled. He wondered how the Indian knew that he had no father. It seemed like magic. The boy had paused a moment from the ritual beat but moved his tight fingers again. It seemed strange that a man would allow a boy to hold his long dick. Pleasure came from it. A thrilling wave that grew in intensity in his own...

The boy felt a sweet twisting in his balls. He instinctively held a breath to get his dick to explode. Squirts filled the man's brown hand. Many of them. Each one gave the boy wonderfully intense thrills that he'd never felt before. He blew out a tense breath and rode the intense waves of pleasure. The Indian grunted with satisfaction.

Jimmy felt stunned. His mouth filled with breaths and his sight turned gray. He fought against his fainting spell. The man's strong hand reached through the boy's armpit and curved around his back to steady the weakened youth. It had kept Jimmy from falling. The man's hand relaxed when the boy was able to stand on his own two feet again. Sight slowly returned to his eyes.

Jimmy felt the Indian man's warmth against him. It was a powerful sensation. His strong hand reached inside the rear of the boy's pants, beneath his underwear to clutch his butt. He could feel the man's fingers digging between the softness of his cheeks.

The Indian's other hand returned to his loins, grasping the boy's hand that moved around his cock with a slow rhythm. He forced the youth to make a tighter squeezing around its thick moist skin. 'Is the man wanting to make his dick squirt out too?' Jimmy wondered.

The curved brown dick felt like it was getting harder in the boy's hand. He was still being held by the man's hand under his; a quicker pace was being made. He felt his rear end being squeezed. One of the man's fingers traced down the crack of his butt to reach deep between his cheeks. Jimmy peered into Mister Burrows eyes for the reason for it. The man's dark eyes were like a fierce bear, hungry and growling!

"You have nice soft melons," whispered Mister Burrows in explanation. "I'd like to put my seed in there to grow them to a man's strong shape."

Jimmy felt the man's finger over his hole. Its tip rubbed over his butt's entrance and pushed inside. `Such a daring thing to try!' The boy didn't understand what the man had meant about his butt. Only that he liked it.

Mister Burrows growled. His fingers squeezed Jimmy's bottom with much lust when his manly loins exploded. Pleasure mixed with much pride for his accomplishment before the innocent youth.

The boy's eyes widened when he saw the white squirts coming out. A strong flow filled his hand. The brown dick made five spurts that was followed by the man's low grunt of satisfaction. Jimmy had to cup his fingers to keep it from spilling to the ground.

Loud breaths filled the air between them. Jimmy saw that the Indian had his eyes closed; `a look of pain on his face?' Some fear came to the boy. He wondered if his pulling had somehow hurt the man.

Mister Burrows filled his lungs deeply and opened his eyes. He smiled at the boy in front of him with much fondness and looked him over. Jimmy had short blond hair and a freckled face with bright blue eyes staring back at him. He judged the youth to be in his early teens by his thin frame though it showed romise of manly growth. 'A really cute white boy,' he thought.

There was a look of worry on the youth. With a simple nod of his head,the man assured Jimmy that what they had done was a good thing. Their rite was nearly at its end so the Indian began singing. He drew the boy closer to him.

Jimmy saw his filled hand being led to the man's filled hand. What had come out from their dicks was different; his made a clear pool while the Indian man's was white like milk. `Thicker too.' Their hands clasped together as if in friendly greeting. What had come out from their dicks was being put together. The Indian man ended his song.

"We join seed, a man's to the boy. It passes my strength unto you..."

The boy swallowed nervously in his throat. His eyes widened in sudden realization. 'Sperm! That's what our dicks had squirted out.' He saw that the man's sperm was white and strong while his own was clear and weak.

"You a good boy, Jimmy. In the moons ahead, your loins be with man's hair and filled with strong seed like my. There be more Indian rites to
show you..."

Jimmy peered into the man's dark eyes after he spoke. There was truth in his gaze. The boy felt the power of what they had done. A real Indian ritual! He wondered what other kinds of rites this man would be willing to share with him.

The man's wet hand squeezed his more tightly. It sent a shiver down the youth's spine to know that their sperm was being put together: a man's to a boy. He smiled at the Indian. The man's weathered face lightened with a grin of its own. Jimmy knew then that what they'd done together was a good thing. He felt his body's attraction to the man's and hoped that the other Indian rites would get them naked and doing more things with each other. Sexual things.

At that moment in the woods, Jimmy was no longer a little boy.