Date: Mon, 18 Jul 2011 11:30:22 -0400
From: wild wing <wildwing66@hotmail.com>
Subject: David's Northern Adventures - Chapters 5 and 6

As with all of my stories this is a work of fiction and in no way does the
author condone any act that may be illegal. I love to hear from my readers
and I will respond to all.  Enjoy!


CHAPTER FIVE

David was eager to learn from the outset.  We pulled out my seventeen foot
Kevlar canoe from the garage and I showed him how to secure it to the top
of the Land Rover.  Next I insisted on taking in his three packs and
examining them.

"Your mother did the packing didn't she?"

"Well....yeah," he replied.

"I'm taking two packs, David, and that includes my personal items, the
bedding, the tent and all the food.  You're going to sink the canoe with
another three packs.  Besides remember everything we bring we have to carry
over the portage."  The first item I removed was a large fluffy beach
towel.  "This is an item you can't afford," I explained.  Next I found food
packages of every description in each bag.  "Your mother meant well but she
has inadvertently turned your packs into bear bait."

David screwed up his face in puzzlement.  "What do you mean?"

I explained, "A four hundred pound bear is a walking chow hound that can
smell for miles.  He'd think nothing of tearing a tent to shreds while
we're busy fishing and dragging your packs into the bush to get at your
chocolate bars.  You can eat your goodies in the car."

David was very attentive and enjoyed learning the bush lore.  I finished up
his pack by showing him how to put the soft items in front to make it
easier on the portage.  I had more items to cover but it was getting late
and I decided to save the rest until tomorrow.  I showed David the guest
room and suggested he grab a shower before bed.  I reminded him of the 5:00
AM alarm.

"Will you come and wash my back?" he asked matter-of-factly.

I thought momentarily and quickly decided that the request was a slippery
slope I'd best avoid.

"No David you're old enough to wash your own back," I responded.

Although he looked disappointed he didn't argue.  As he entered the
bathroom I retreated to the den.  I planned to catch the TV evening news
before getting my own shower and then heading to bed.

As I sat I wondered about David's request.  Was he used to complete
openness and immodesty in his house and asking what came naturally?  Or on
the other hand was he an exhibitionist?  Or dare I think it, was he looking
for a sexual adventure?  I was still mulling over the possibilities when
David boldly strode into the room wearing nothing but his tight underpants.

"There, what do you think?  Am I clean enough?"

Again I was stunned by his appearance.  His chest hinted at the muscles
that were sure to follow.  Two dime sized nipples appeared perfectly flat.
His narrow waist displayed a perfect innie.  His package to say the least
was substantial for a twelve year old.  At this point I realized he must
have caught me staring but I couldn't help myself.

"Well," he said, "I'm waiting.  What do you think?"

I quickly gathered my thoughts and spoke the truth, "Wow, you are absolute
perfection!"

"Ah you're just saying that.  I'm not perfect."

"What's not to like?" I inquired.

Without hesitating he reached down and grasped his cock through his
underpants.  "Well for one thing this isn't big enough."

I gulped and took a deep breath.  I tried to sound mature and in control of
my raging juices.  "David you're well-built for your age and you're going
to get a lot bigger.  Trust me on that one."

"How can you tell how big I am?  I'm wearing my Calvins.  Here take a
proper look."

Before I could protest he reached down and removed his underpants.

"David you can't.....you mustn't," I stuttered.

"Sure I can," he quickly retorted.  "Dad says it's okay as long as there
are only men or boys that you know around.  Besides I like being nude."  He
spread his legs apart and put his hands on his hips and preened just a few
feet in front of me.  I had the distinct impression of a peacock strutting
his stuff.  He knew how substantial he was and just wanted to show off and
receive compliments or confirmation of his dimensions.

"Well?" he asked.

There was no retreat.  I had to look.  I observed about a four, perhaps
four and a half inch throbbing member that curved upwards just slightly.
It was topped by a perfectly formed light mauve mushroom head.  I saw no
blemishes of any kind and no circumcision scar.  He appeared devoid of
hair.  A translucent bag swung below containing two precious testes.

To buy time I cleared my throat and in the most serious voice I could
muster stated, "Just as I said, you are perfection."

I realized I was reaching the point of no return.  It would have been so
easy to reach over, grasp his beautiful cock and violate him.  I had to do
something in a hurry to reduce my desire.  I turned to humour.  "In fact
you're so scrumptious I could eat you.  I think I'll start with your feet."

I made a lunge for a foot.  David laughed and deftly leaped to one side.
Without hesitating he leaped again, twisting in mid air and landing with a
thump beside me on the couch.  He then half turned towards me and stared
into my eyes with a look of absolute trust.  At this point I didn't know if
David recognized the dangerous game he was playing.

"Dad and I had what he called a man to man talk last night.  He told me
that I could trust you and that you would look after me no matter what," he
explained.  "But I was wondering if that includes getting attacked by a
bear?"

"Are you kidding?  A bear is just too darn big.  I'd let him munch on you
while I escape."

"No, seriously," he insisted.

"Look," I explained, "I'm not going to say bear attacks don't happen.  They
do.  But an attack is so rare it's silly even worrying about it."

David sat quietly for a moment or two and then added, "If I see one I hope
he's a long way off."

I wrapped an arm around his waist and drew him in closer.  The TV continued
to play but I don't believe it registered with either of us.  "You know," I
whispered, "you have quickly become very special to me."

David glanced up at me.  "I like you too Robert.  We're really going to
have a good time, aren't we?"

"You can bet on it," I smiled.

With that David arose and wandered off to bed.  He left his Calvins behind
on the floor.

As I passed David's door I lingered there for a moment but in the end I was
able to tear myself away and retire to my own bed.


CHAPTER SIX

At ten to one the next day David and I pulled into a small parking lot hard
by the Nemegos River near Chapel, Ontario.  It was a beautiful hot day with
just a rare cloud drifting across the sky.  David was alive with nervous
energy.  Even as the car was rolling to a stop he squealed, "Robert, can I
load the canoe now?"

"One thing at a time, Buddy," I laughed.  "We have to stay organized or
we'll be sure to have an accident."

I showed him how to properly unload the canoe and take it to the river.
Next we loaded the packs and lashed them in place.  I then gave him an on
the spot paddle lesson on how to perform the J-stroke.  David was a quick
learner.

A few moments later we gently pushed off.  David in the bow position was
intent on proving to me that he could pull his weight.  He dug the paddle
in deep and pulled with all his might.  At the rate he was paddling I knew
he'd be tired out in thirty minutes.

"You're doing great David but slow down.  Half the fun is getting there.
Just paddle at a nice steady rate and look around you.  Enjoy the scenery."

We rounded the first bend and David spotted our first wildlife.  "Look!
Over there!  There's a rattlesnake in the water!" he screamed.

I explained that there were no rattlesnakes in Northern Ontario.  I agreed
that the patterning on the snake made it look like a rattlesnake but it was
only a common water snake.  He calmed down and went back to paddling.

My topographical map suggested there would be two or perhaps three portages
before we entered Nemegos Lake, our destination.  The first portage
appeared to be the worst.  It was some seven hundred metres or so in
length.  It would be a test!

Our first rapids appeared five minutes later.  We pulled the canoe into
shore and scouted ahead.  There was a clear but relatively deep fast
channel down the middle.  The actual white water was minimal and I gave the
rapids a novice rating.  No matter.  To David it was a wild adventure!  He
sounded like an Indian on the warpath as we shot through.  David glanced
back at me and yelled, "That was way more fun than a roller coaster ride!"

I smiled and wondered again how I could be so lucky as to have David as a
trip mate.  His enthusiasm and reactions to events that I long ago had
taken for granted were immensely rewarding.

Rounding yet another bend I espied an immense bull moose standing chest
deep, his head beneath the surface no doubt munching on water weed.  I
wasn't surprised.  They are a common sight on the rivers of Northern
Ontario and I had seen many in my travels.  David, intent on his paddling,
hadn't seen him.  Reaching forward I tapped David with the end of my
paddle.  He turned and I gave him the universal sign for silence.  I then
signaled for him to put his paddle down and look ahead.  With his back to
me I couldn't see his reaction but from the wiggling he was doing I knew he
was agog with excitement.  As quietly as I could I steered the canoe within
thirty feet of the moose and stopped.  The moose eventually lifted his
head, dripping weeds dangling from his immense rack.  He stared at us
momentarily as if to say `What are you doing in my world?'  Then he slowly
turned his majestic body and sauntered back into the bush.

David couldn't get his thoughts out fast enough.  "Wow, did you see that?
He was as big as a bus!  Were we in any danger?"

He had me laughing out loud.  His enthusiasm was contagious.  "Yes I saw
that.  No he wasn't as big as a bus unless you mean a very small school
bus.  And no we weren't in any danger."

"I can't wait to tell Dad!" he added.

According to my map we would soon be approaching the first major set of
rapids and the first portage.  Sure enough the next bend revealed a witch's
cauldron of angry water ahead.  The portage entry was easy to spot on the
right side.  David bravely suggested that we shoot the rapids but I knew
better than to take a novice through that maelstrom.  I guided the canoe to
the shore and David, keeping his weight in the centre of the canoe as I had
shown him, stepped out.

David had to immediately relieve himself but made no attempt at privacy.
In fact he stood directly in front of me as he held his organ.

"David you are disgusting," I chuckled.

His response was to raise his peter in a deliberate attempt to spray me.  I
leaped out of the way.

"That's part payment for farting in the store," he laughed.  What could I
do except join him in his revelry?

I helped him on with his pack and then hoisted the canoe over my head.
Tipping the canoe slightly I was able to see the trail ahead.  David
insisted on leading.  It was by now no surprise to see him determined to
show the world that he was more than capable of handling the toughest
portage.  The first fifty metres was a steep climb through a copse of alder
bushes and then over broken rock.  We were both sweating and panting by the
time we crested the rise and entered a dark pine forest.  We could hear the
river splashing and gurgling off to our left but we couldn't see it.  After
what seemed an eternity the trail commenced a gradual downward slope.  We
emerged just a few metres below the rapids.  David was clearly fatigued but
he clenched his teeth and did not complain.

I handed him the water canteen and said, "We'll take a ten minute break and
then return for two more packs."

He took a deep breath and responded, "I'll be ready."

On the second leg David was laboring and beginning to lag behind as we
entered the forest.  He never once requested a rest.  I decided we best
stop deep in the woods.

"David I want you to see this small grove.  Take your pack off and
observe."

He didn't need to be told twice.  He promptly put his pack against a tree,
sat down and leaned against it.  "What am I looking at?"

"This," I stated quietly as I swept my hand across the clearing.

It was truly a beautiful spot.  The glen, no more than twenty by twenty
metres, was a sunlit clearing completely carpeted in a thick layer of a
myriad of various mosses and lichens.  A lone hollow stump blackened by a
long forgotten forest fire protruded from one side.  A solid wall of sweet
smelling cedar and hemlock framed the setting.

"I don't see anything," said a puzzled David screwing up his face.

"Look with your heart as well as your eyes," I responded, sweeping a hand
across the glen once more.  "Understand that to me the great outdoors is my
church and this is my altar.  The shamans or Indian medicine men used to
declare such places as holy.  They were places where you could meditate and
converse with the spirits of your ancestors."

David looked again and screwed up his face even harder in concentration.
Finally he turned to me and smiled, "I think you're crazy!"

I didn't debate his conclusion.

Twenty minutes later David completed the portage with an emphatic, "There,
I did it!"  I let him rest while I retrieved the final pack.

The rest of the river trip was comparatively uneventful.  We shot two more
novice rapids and negotiated a short portage around a five metre waterfall.
We also had a lift-over.  A beaver had built an impressive dam from one
shore to the other.  We had to stand on the dam and lever the laden canoe
over the top to the water below.

A short while later we paddled into the yawning expanse of diamond studded
Lake Nemegos.  It appeared to stretch to eternity.  Far off a single dark
cloud dropped a sheet of mist onto the water.  A multicoloured rainbow
arced into a nearby bay.  It had to be an omen of the week ahead.