Date: Mon, 12 Nov 2012 09:43:10 -0800 (PST)
From: Macout Mann <macoutmann@yahoo.com>
Subject: ON MY HONOR 4

This story is about sexual activity between boy scouts and a scoutmaster.
It is total fiction.  There is no Poconola, MS.  Any resemblance between
persons or events depicted and actual persons or events is purely
coincidental.

If you are offended by depictions of explicit homosexual activity, or if
you are underage, please do not read further.  Otherwise, the author
invites you to enjoy the story and to respond with comments or criticisms.
The author would especially appreciate responses from readers who have been
involved in scouting.  All email will be answered.  Please address
macoutmann@yahoo.com.

Also, please remember that nifty.org needs your support to keep this
service available to all.  Please donate what you can.



			     "ON MY HONOR..."

			      by Macout Mann



				 Chapter 4
				  Camping



There was no meeting the following Wednesday.  The boys gathered late
Friday afternoon to go camping.  They were all, even Masters, wearing
cutoffs.  Manly, as usual, was shirtless.  They piled all the gear in the
bed of Masters' pickup.  Masters would drive, two of the boys would sit in
the cab, the other three in back.

They headed to a farm along the Wolf River that belonged to a friend of
Masters, one of several sites he used that were great for campouts.  This
particular site was ideal, a grove of trees surrounding a grassy plot on
the edge of the stream.  Eric, Michael, and Sammy, who shared the truck
bed, soon joined Manly in stripping off their shirts to deepen their
already dark tans.

At the campsite there was already a fireplace constructed, so all the boys
had to do was unload the truck and set up the three tents they had brought.
Normally, each scout would have his own tent, but this group obviously
wouldn't need but the three.  Their tasks completed everybody stripped and
jumped into the muddy waters of the river.

After their swim they sat on the bank and let the late afternoon sun dry
their naked bodies.  Masters produced five folded pieces of paper and
announced that they needed to decide who would share what tent.  He said he
was number one.  Whoever drew number two would share a tent with him.
Three and four would share, as would five and six.  Very democratic.  Eric
drew number two.  Sammy and Manly would share the second tent, leaving
Barry and Michael to share the other.

That being decided, Masters broke out a case of beer and the boys started
the fire in the traditional scouts' manner.  They would have hot dogs
roasted over the open fire for supper with watermelon for dessert.  Masters
knew there wouldn't be enough wood lying around to gather enough for the
fire, so bringing kindling was one of the chores the four older members of
the group had.  The scoutmaster rationed the beer, so there would be enough
for the entire trip.

After supper the six of them played Captain-of-the-Flag until well after
dark, not that three man teams made for a great game, but it was good
exercise.  The team led by Manly easily defeated the team led by Masters.
Finally Masters brought out one of his porno books and selected Sammy to
read a story from it.  By the time he finished, there were six hard dicks
around the campfire, and everybody was ready to hit the sack.

Everyone had been naked since they stripped to go swimming.  So when Sammy
and Manly climbed into their tent, Manly simply asked, "What do you want?
To be sucked, or do you want to fuck me?"

"I'd really rather you suck my dick," Sammy said.

Without another word Manly with one hand reached for Sammy's hard-on and
gave it a few pumps.  But Manly was really into giving as much pleasure as
he could.  So he also plunged his tongue into Sammy's ear, and with his
other hand tweaked Sammy's nipples.  A new experience for the younger boy.
He was thrilled.

Then Manly planted his lips on first one pec and then the other, back and
forth, until Sammy was whimpering with pleasure.  Manly licked his way down
the twelve-year- old's well-developed chest and abs, before reaching the
head of his rigid dick.  Sammy was already in heaven when Manly's lips
closed around Sammy's sausage and began to consume it.  "Ahhh!" Sammy
cried, as his dry orgasm overwhelmed his senses.

"You liked that, did ya?" Manly asked.

"Fuck yes," Sammy answered.

"That's the way to have real sex," Manly instructed.  "Do you like to be
kissed?"

"Dunno.  Never done it."

Manly drew Sammy's mouth to his and extended his tongue in to demonstrate
how to do it.  Manly wasn't thrilled, but he had been excited by Manly's
tongue in his ear, so he responded that way.

"That's good," Manly responded.  "There's more to sex than just sucking and
fucking."

They played with each other's bodies, until Manly thought Sammy had
recovered from his orgasm, then he said, "I want you to tongue my ass."

"Do what?"

"Don't worry.  It's clean.  Tongue my ass to get me ready to be fucked.  I
want your dick."

Sammy did as he was told.  It wasn't as gross as he expected it to be.  In
fact it really seemed to turn Manly on.  He became more and more
excited. finally whispering.  "Fuck me now!"

Sammy rammed his small tool home in one stroke.

Meanwhile Eric had taken Duane Master's dick up the ass with a minimum of
foreplay.

"Do you like my dick up your ass as much as I like to feel teenaged ass
around it, stud?" he asked between breaths.

"Yeah, Duane, you fuck good," Eric panted.  Then he added, "But experience
is valuable in everything you do, aint it?"  He was always the wiseass.

In the third tent Michael enjoyed the ministrations of Barry's oral
orifice, and Michael responded in kind.  They were totally different in
temperament but they fit together well... in more ways than one.

Michael also shared a secret.  "You know Clara Stebbins?"

"Yeah, she's in my class.  All the guys say she puts out," Barry answered.

"Well, it's true," Michael said.  "She let me fuck her last week."

"Goddamn!  What was it like?"

"It was heavenly.  Different from being with a guy, and in some ways
better."

After a while they all snuggled into the double sleeping bags Masters
provided.  This was one camp where reveille wasn't at six.



When they did leave their tents the next morning, they first took a dip in
the river and then reset the fire to cook breakfast.  The morning was used
for nature study.  Masters always insisted that the campouts included
proper activities.  It made the boys feels better about the trips, and it
also gave them a good answer, if their parents asked "what did you do at
camp?"  The afternoon included baseball practice, in which one boy would
bat flies or grounders to test how well the others could field them.  And
there was more swimming.

After supper they roasted marshmallows and drank more beer.  Masters
thought that was a stupid combination of things, but the boys seemed to
like it.  And this was the time that he gave his sex talks.  Very
straightforward, very scientific, about both boys and girls, everything
your father failed to tell you.  And he'd honestly answer any question any
of the boys asked.

Tonight the sleeping arrangements would be different.  Number three would
be in the tent with six.  Number five with one.  Number two with one.  That
put Sammy with Michael, Barry with Duane.  Eric with Manly.

Sammy really liked Michael.  All the boys were good looking and had hot
bods, but Michael had that "something."  He looked sexy, he sounded sexy,
his every movement was sexy.  And if there were most beautiful dick
contests, he'd win every one.  Hard, it was straight and round, over six
inches of veined caramel with a huge head and a prominent slit.  There was
electricity whenever he touched you.  Sammy hoped that they could cuddle
like he and Manly had the night before.  And they did.

First Michael suggested they get outside.  "It's warm," he said, "let's go
out on the river bank."

As they lay in the open air feeling each other's hard bodies, Michael first
said "I just love to feel the breeze on my skin, don't you?"

"Does feel nice," Sammy murmured, "Not as nice as somebody touching you,
though."

"Do you think you're gay, Sammy?"

"I haven't thought about it really.  I do worry sometimes that what we're
doing isn't right."

"I know I like girls," Michael acknowledged, "but I like doing this too."
His hand wandered to Sammy's balls.  "Sure enough, Duane acts like a perv
sometimes, but down deep he's o.k.

"Do I freak you out?"

"Oh no," Sammy answered.  "I like you a lot, Michael."

The moon emerged from behind a high cloud and highlighted the white
midsections of both boys.  The contrast between Sammy's chest and legs and
area around his hips was considerably greater than Michael's.  "You need to
get naked in the sun more," Michael giggled.

Then he bent over and kissed the younger boy's pecs and abdomen.  Sammy did
the same for Michael.

"Suck me, man," Michael whispered.

Sammy took Michaels splendid tool into his hot mouth and gave his all to
pleasure the young Cajun.  Michael began to face fuck Sammy, and soon gave
up his seed, which Sammy gleefully swallowed.

"I wish I could cum like that," Sammy said.

"You will, pretty soon."

Before they returned to their tent, Michael gave as good as he had
received, but Sammy was still dry.

As they passed Masters tent, they could hear Duane grunting.  "Yeah," he
cried, as he creamed in Barry's ass, "Love ya, boy.  Take that,
motherfucker!"

 "See," Michael told Sammy, "it's like I said.  He can be a fucking
pervert."

 Duane was humping Barry like there was no tomorrow.

But tomorrow did come.  They had a breakfast of link sausage, scrambled
eggs, and grits.  Then Masters led them in Sunday devotions.  Duty to God
as well as country.  They sang "Praise God from whom all blessings flow"
and read Proverbs and prayed that the Lord would bless their group.
Masters gave a homily that urged that they treat others fairly and not be
mean to boys they didn't like.

After their devotions Masters had each boy talk about what they had learned
from the camping experience.  Manly was tempted to say that he'd learned
Sammy didn't like to French kiss, but he played along with Duane's sham.
He dreamed of the day when he could be like Masters.

They all packed up and then took one final dip in the Wolf River.  It was
noon when they headed back to Poconola.



Copyright 2012 by Macout Mann.  All rights reserved.