WARNING: This fictional story contains sexual accounts between a man and
a boy AND IS UNSUITABLE FOR MINORS UNDER THE AGE OF TWENTY-ONE.
You should know whether you want to be reading this or not!
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BOY-SEEDS-FULFILLED "Boy Seeds Fulfilled"
Indian Boys at Play Copyright 1998 Vince Water
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Author's Note:
In answer to all my readers who've been asking me about the "Willow Bird,
Warrior" story - part 2 is still being written! When completed, it will be
given to the Nifty Archive for distribution. Please be patient.
I welcome comments and suggestions on all my Indian boy love stories.
Send E-mail to me at:
Vince_Water@HotMail.Com
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* *
* "Boy Seeds Fulfilled" *
| "Boy Seeds" is a series of poetic poems that began with a boy |
| discovering the simple pleasure of masturbation. "Boy Seeds |
| Planted" showed him how lust was not the same as love when he |
| fucked a willing young brave. "Boy Seeds Vision" showed him the |
| three human parts of himself. These earlier poems can be found |
| in the "Pottery Shards", "For the Love of Indian Boys" and "Even |
| More Love Stories of Indian Boys" booklets. This fourth account |
| is the young boy's quest for a man's love and the answers to |
| his emerging sexuality. |
The boy returned to his vision place of stone: a cold dark cave that
stretched out to the river like a hand of bone. Hope was in his heart.
This was where the three look-alike youths had embraced him with love,
lust and wisdom from inside himself. He felt ready now to seek for a
man's love.
Father Sun was hidden behind the clouds. Not yet risen in His sky was
old Grandfather Moon who had witnessed the youth's first release of boy
seeds. A warrior in camp had embraced him proudly for that accomplishment
but he wasn't a man who desired a boy. He only lusted for his squaws. In
pain, the youth had to turn away from him so that his heart could be open
for another. A man who could give him love from his body as well as from
his heart.
The boy stood against cold dark stone all morning to wait for him.
There came a dipping sound from the river. The boy tried peering
through the thick fog to see what it was when he spied the ghostly shape
that became a canoe; a young man inside. His long black hair was braided
over his chest. Long willow arms rested over his dark folded legs. He
smiled. The boy went to the edge of his cave to give a friendly wave. In
his heart burned the hope for love.
Yet it seemed not to be. The boy watched the long canoe with its man
slipping by him over the slow moving river; a really handsome man. Urgency
tugged at the youth's heart. He would have to catch him!
With a soft splash, the boy dived into the river. Its cold spirit
sucked warmth from his small body. Breaths held. Above him he swam towards
the dark shape on the water. When he surfaced, the man smiled again. His
strong hand lifted the dripping youth into his canoe.
Nothing spoken could pass between them in understanding so hand
gestures were made. The brave asked why he had come. The youth's earlier
boldness now turned to reluctance. How could he ask the man if he was the
one to love him?
The canoe was turned towards the bank by the brave's slow movement of
his wooden paddle. It dipped into the water like a thirsty bird. A
mesmerizing rhythm. The boy faced the man with a shy grin and his keen
eyes studied him. Strength shown from the man's arms as he maneuvered his
canoe. His breast flexed with power. In the man's breechclout, his male
bulge caught the boy's eye. It caused a swift lifting of the youth's pole
for the man to spy on.
The brave lowered his wooden paddle into the canoe. He smiled at the
youth for his proud male display: a hard pole standing against his belly.
The man wasn't surprised when the boy began pulling on it. A common male
rite. He seemed of age to spill boy seeds from it.
The man nodded with understanding. He remembered in his youth the need
to pleasure his growing body that led to spilling his own boy seeds just
like this youth was trying. Yet more than simple thrills burned in this
boy's eyes; some kind of wanting: for him?
The brave felt his manly excitement for the naked boy sitting in his
canoe. A really cute youth from a tribe not of his People. He had desired
to have a son but to get one, he'd have to lay with a squaw. His loins
felt no lust for one. That shameful realization had kept him away from his
tribe. He was in search of the reason why.
Within the man's breechclout came an answer. His loins were hard not
for a woman but for this young boy. Shame was cast aside to accept the
truth of it. When the youth gestured for him to reveal his hidden
excitement, the brave felt like the ground-bound chick that had finally
grown wings to fly away.
Without shame, the young man lifted the front cloth to his breechclout.
What had lain inside it made the boy grin. He saw that the brave's display
matched his but with greater power. His slim hand began playing over it to
join into the boy's lusty game.
The youth wanted something more. His hand dropped away from his aching
flesh so that he could express the aching from his heart. He held the
man's knees, their bodies whispering over the water. A great longing
filled the boy's eyes. He wondered if the man would see it.
When the long willow arms reached out for him, the youth sprang into
the man's lap. It became a wonderful hug of warmth and bodily love. They
embraced beyond the love of father for his son. So easily their differing
sizes fitted to complete each other. They made love.
The ghostly shape of a canoe drifted down the river unguided. No soft
dipping. The man had his arms full of boy. Kisses were given him and
between them their hard poles danced to a lusty beat. The boy kept his
body close to the brave's male power that pleasured him beyond knowledge
and hope. His finger erection pressed against the man's fleshy spear with
building thrills. In the youth's heart, he heard singing that spoke to him
about this nice man: love, Love, LOVE HIM!
The young brave heard that same song in his heart. He kept the youth's
small body close to his breast and made sweet love to him. Kisses went to
the boy's hair. His manly cock rubbed against the stiff boy pole in a
proud show of male pleasuring. Their differing bodies were trying hard to
become one.
In a thunderous climax, both loins flowed between trembling bellies.
The sweet joy from their union bound the boy to his man. He had at last
found love. Boy seeds were fulfilled.
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End of file: BOY-SEEDS-FULFILLED When completed look for: AT-THE-GATHERING