Date: Wed, 27 Jun 2007 07:05:42 -0400 (EDT)
From: Herb Cat <herb_cat@lycos.com>
Subject: Rip Folder: Around the World 17 Sambia

Copyright 2007 Herb Cat. Do not reproduce or distribute this story without
the author's permission.

Please note: this story depicts oral and anal sex between male adults and
male minors. If this offends you or is illegal to publish in your
jurisdiction, or you are under the age of 18, read no further.

The characters, locations and incidents in this story are fictional. Any
resemblance to actual events or locales, or persons, living or dead, is
entirely coincidental.

As an author, I welcome feedback on my writing. Please send any comments
about this story, positive or negative, to Herb_Cat@mailcity.com. Thank
you.

-----

"Why we goin Poopoo, Malgum?"

"It's Papua, Pepito, not Poopoo. I have some special friends there, Dr.
Pieter Tong and his son Torang."

"Did you fug his son?"

"Yes, he was one of my special lover boys."

As the plane took off from Tokyo, Malcolm sat back and reminisced. What a
wonderful year that was. The long talks with Pieter. Those delicious
meals that Pablo served up. The vacations at the lake with little Rippy
and Torang playing with each other (once they got past fighting for
Malcolm's cum). It was a happy time.

Then came that special trip, when Malcolm brought Rippy on a plane much
like this one bound for Papua New Guinea. How excited they both were to
see Torang's village and visit with the other Sambians. Those were
memories to last a lifetime. Rippy, of course, had gone back to Papua New
Guinea, on assignment for National Geographic. That was only like two
years ago. Maybe less. Malcolm would have to take lots of pictures this
time to show him.

.oOo.

"Uncle Malcolm! Uncle Malcolm! Over here."

Malcolm heard the voice calling when he got off the plane in Port
Moresby, but he certainly didn't recognize the man. "Torang? Is that
really you?"

"Did you expect to see an eight-year old boy waiting here to meet you,
Uncle Malcolm?"

"I guess so, hehe. In my dreams, you are still that bright-eyed youngster
worrying about his tingu."

"You really dream about me, after fourteen years?"

"I dream about all my boys, Torang, and in my dreams, they never grow
up."

"Lige Peder Pan, and the Island of Lost Boys."

"Oh, Torang, this is Pepito, he's six."

"Almost seven!"

"Yes, you're right. And Juan here turned twelve a little while back. And
this lovely lady is their mother, Maria."

"Don't you dare tell him how old I am, Malcolm!"

"Why you gall him Ungle Malgum?"

"Ah, Pepito, Malcolm's nephew Euripides and I are brothers. We had a
ceremony and everything. So Rip's uncle became my uncle too. When I was
just a little older than you, Uncle Malcolm helped me with my tingu."

"Your what?"

"I'll explain it to you later, but I will always be grateful to him."

"How's your father Pieter?"

"Still working hard at the university. He's anxious to meet everyone."

"Even Maria?" Malcolm asked skeptically.

"Oh, sure, Papa isn't going to have any more children. He doesn't need to
worry about Maria weakening him."

"I didn't know I had such power!" Maria smiled. "How many children does
your father have?"

"I have six brothers (besides Rip) and two sisters."

"Oh, your poor mother!" Torang laughed, but of course, he had never
developed a bond with his mother. "Well, things will be different for
Jangwa."

"Who's Jangwa?"

"My wife." Malcolm couldn't believe that little Torang was not only grown
up, but married. "She can't wait to meet you. She lives here in Port
Moresby with me. Papa can't get used to the idea, but I just couldn't
leave my wife back in the village to live with pigs. I wanted to give her
a home like your sister Andrea. Come, let's get your bags.

.oOo.

As Torang drove them to his condominium, he had to ask, "What kind of
shit you got in all those bags?"

Maria, sitting beside him, blushed. "I'm afraid most of them are mine. I
kept seeing beautiful things I wanted to buy. Saris and Kimonos and art
objects. I guess I've always liked pretty things. Mama used to call me a
magpie."

Malcolm sat in the back seat between his boys, who each had hold of one
of his hands. Pepito held the middle finger of his right hand while Juan
was pushing Malcolm's left hand down into his shorts. "Why am I so
blessed," Malcolm thought, "to have such two horny little bastards at
once." Each night now, while Juan plays with his dildo, Malcolm is
gradually, gently getting Pepito's anus accustomed to penetration by his
loving pinky.

.oOo.

Torang couldn't get away until Tuesday. Weekends were always especially
busy at the clinic. So the family spent their time seeing Port Moresby
with Jangwa, and just relaxing around the condo's pool, where Juan and
Pepito quickly made friends with the local boys.

On Monday, Maria took the boys to a barber, so they wouldn't look shaggy
for the trip tomorrow. Malcolm knew, of course, that the Sambian males
wouldn't care about such niceties, but he didn't argue with the boys'
mother. Instead, he decided to go for a swim. However, the pool was
getting cleaned, so Malcolm settled into a lounge chair and began
studying the caucasian poolboy. Mid 20's, dirty blond hair, 5'10, 180,
perfectly toned abs, pecs, a tight blue speedo topping two strong legs.
Could be German, maybe even Scandinavian or British. Malcolm turned on
his mental age regression machine and concluded that twelve, fifteen,
years earlier, this lad was a definite charmer. But what was the hunk
doing here cleaning a pool in Papua New Guinea? In the middle of this
speculation, the god turned and walked toward Malcolm, who unwittingly
had positioned himself by the equipment shed. In a moment, the tight blue
package was screaming in his face.

"G'day, mate." An Aussie boy. One mystery solved.

"Good morning. It's a beautiful day here."

"Usually is. I love this island. Name's Scotty McPherson, but everyone
calls me Mac." He extended his hand. Malcolm sat up, shook his hand, and
introduced himself. "You got a couple of real beauties there, Mate. I
seen them splashing around last couple days. You're one tin-arsed seppo
bastard."

Malcolm's defences went up. "Look, those are two wonderful boys. Don't
get any ideas."

"Don't go troppo, Mate. I got three of my own."

Malcolm was incredulous. "You're a father?"

"No bloody way, Mate. Like you, I got some boys who like to make me
stoked." Malcolm blushed. "Yeah, I figured you out first day. I seen how
the ankle biters flirted with you in the pool. Don't worry. Been there,
done that. Well, doing that would be more accurate. Look, let me put my
gear away and then let's sink some piss, okay?" As it turned out, Mac
lived in a basement apartment, did odd jobs around the complex, and made
enough to get by. He had visited Port Moresby when he was sixteen,
accompanying his dad on a business trip. He saw all the gorgeous black
boys, took note of the Euro male tourists, and put two and two together.
When he finished high school, he decided to move here from Canberra. In
Mac's cramped unit, Malcolm declined the beer, but accepted a coke, and
Mac popped a video into the machine. "These are my boys. The big one
there is Matari, he's twelve now, but this is when he was nine. We were
down on the beach. That's his brother Warrun running up now, ! two years
younger. . . . Now, this is when we took a walkabout up Mt. Wilhelm.
Notice who's carrying all the bluey. I think they brought me along 'cause
they needed a packass. Say, let me get you another tinny. . . . Here, we
went to the zoo. That's Darel with them. He's also nine, Warrun's
playmate. They're like the three musketeers. . . ." Malcolm recognized
them now as three of the locals playing in the pool with Juan and Pepito.
"Now, this is Matari playing cricket. All three of them are on teams, and
I never miss any of their games."

"Sounds like they keep you busy."

"Well, they keep me out of trouble is more like it. Yeah, I sometimes
take them over to the uni where we can use the tennis courts. Or to a
movie. But our two favorite places are the pool and my bed over there.
Three bloody root rats they are." Malcolm glanced at the twin in the
corner and imagined how cozy it must be sharing it with three wiry
youngsters. "OK, now this is last year here in my unit, so they were like
eleven and nine, and more gorgeous every day. And They wanted to do a
strip for me. Ain't they cute? Look, how flirty they get. Hehe. I see
them every weekend. Last saturday I took them to the zoo, and on Sunday
when we get out of bed, I always take them to church. Their mothers like
that. . . . There, now they're slippin their grundies off. Lookit them
dongers. Can't you just eat them up? Of course, I do. And there, check
out those three gorgeous arses. Hmm, hmm, hmm. But don't get any ideas,
Mate. They're mine, and I ain't trading them for anyone, not even! your
two honeys. But hey, I seen how you look at them. You're not a trader
either. You're keepin them for the long haul. I hate the way these
pommies fly in here, buy a kid or two for a night, and never see them
again. My boys know I'll always be here for them." Malcolm decided he'd
better get back to the family. He thanked Mac for the drink, the
entertainment, and the conversation. He knew he had found a soul-brother.

.oOo.

Jangwa promised to take good care of Maria. Good care of course meant
showing her the market where vendors from tribes all over Papua New
Guinea sold hand-woven textiles and hand-carved figures. So Malcolm,
Torang, and the boys were free to spend a couple days back at the
village. Going through the rain forest in Torang's Land Rover, watching
the monkeys scamper overhead and the kangaroos hop through the brush, and
listening to the songs of the colorful birds, all brought back memories
of taking the same trip with Torang's father years ago, with a little
Torang sitting beside him. He remembered too the clearing where they
parked at the end of the jeep road. And here he told Juan and Pepito they
could take off their clothes; they wouldn't need them for the next couple
days, and the monkeys would guard their belongings. "Yippee!" But he made
sure they wore their shoes. Torang and Malcolm also stripped, and put on
their penis covers. Malcolm had brought his clear around the! world for
this moment. "That looks like a fundoshi, Malcolm! 'Cept yours is
prettier then the ones we saw in Japan." Then he reminded him, "Don't
forget your monkey bone!" The boys giggled as he pushed it into his nose.

"How do I look, Torang?"

"Just like a true Sambian man. Just a lot paler, hehe. At least the boys
here have some color. Is everyone ready? Let's start walking."

Malcolm grabbed his back pack and they headed down the footpath. By the
time they reached the village, Pepito was riding piggy back, and even
Juan was starting to fatigue. But the Sambian reception brightened their
spirits. Grown men came up to Malcolm who fourteen years before had fed
them his powerful susu kental pria, and now showed him the strong boys
they had fathered. Malcolm was in paradise, surrounded by boys of all
ages, eager to play with his klot. Juan and Pepito giggled when Malcolm,
the legendary mentor, finally sat down on a log, and took off his penis
cover to let as many boys as wanted suck him off. It didn't seem to
matter when he ran out of susu kental pria; they still sucked as though
the klot itself was enough to make their tingus healthy and happy.
Malcolm pointed to the teenage boys standing off to one side and
suggested to Juan and Pepito they could suck them if they liked. The boys
didn't need to be asked twice. They went to town drinking one blac! k
faucet after the next, until the precious susu kental pria was dripping
down their chins.

That night, after a delicious tribal feast held to honor the visiting
dignitary, the elders let Malcolm and the boys have a place of honor in
the men's house to sleep. The Sambians found this white man a strange
conundrum. At 44, he was one of the oldest males in the house, old enough
to be a grandfather, yet here he was still mentoring boys like he was a
young bachelor. He had sacrificed his own hope of progeny to continue to
give susu kental pria to new generations. They whispered "mo-e," as they
watched him fuck Juan doggy position. How bravely the little mo-mog took
the man up his ass. He was actually smiling. What a strong tingu he must
have. Then when Juan came off the klot, they watched brother Pepito bend
over it to lick the remaining drops of susu kental pria. As he licked
with his ass pointed up at the thatched roof, Malcolm began to
finger-fuck him. Pepito took the entire pinky without a whimper. And
Malcolm was beginning to graduate to the index finger. Pepit! o too, the
audience decided, had a healthy tingu.

The next morning, Juan and Pepito ran around the village with their new
friends, playing tag, a game that boys the world over understand.
Occasionally one of them stopped to service some teenage bachelor who
walked by. The sight of the two light brown-assed boys seemed to make
them extra horny.

"How much susu kental pria do you think you drank today, Juan?" Malcolm
asked as they waved goodbye to the Sambian village.

"Let's see, I'll have to convert liters into gallons. Hehe."

"Yep, it sure looked like gallons to me."

"Look, Malgum, Juan and me got mongey bones lige you. Maybe we gan get
our noses pierced when we get home."

"We'll see, Pepito. I'm glad you got lots of susu kental pria also. I
think you're strong enough to walk all the way back to the Land Rover by
yourself."

"Yep, I think so too." Pepito grabbed Malcolm's middle finger and skipped
along beside him.

.oOo.

On April 4, Little Pepito had his birthday party, even though he wouldn't
be seven for another day, because they were leaving early the next
morning for Hawaii. Torang baked a big birthday cake. "Pablo taught me to
cook." Jangwa served supper out on the Lanai. Pieter took time out from
his academic schedule to join them. Maria and Jangwa had bought lots of
presents at the market, so that Malcolm and Juan could give some of them:
Papuan toys and games, brightly colored shirts, a native musical
instrument, and a fertility god figure with a filigree penis. And Pieter
picked up a book at the campus bookstore about the wildlife of PNG.
Pepito went around the table thanking everyone with a kiss.

Suddenly, Mac showed up with Matari, Warrun and Darel, and a slab.
"Someone said there was a rage going on. I guess our invitation got lost
in the mail, Mate. Any tucker left?" Pepito and Juan quickly donned their
swimsuits and the five boys jumped in the pool. It was a perfect close to
their stay in Papua.

"Well, big birthday boy, this is fun, but we really have to get to sleep.
We don't want the plane to leave without us in the morning."

.oOo.

They did get to the airport on time, and checked their multitudinous
luggage. Qantas 384 departed Jackson Field at 9:25 AM and landed at
10:50. "Wow, dat was fast, Malgum! We're in Hawaii already?"

"No, I'm afraid not, Pepito. We have to make two stopovers. This is
Cairns."

Juan frowned, "Where is Cairns?"

"In Australia."

"That's a continent, right? So, this is the fourth continent of our
trip!"

"Hehe, yeah, I guess you're right, Juan, but we're not going to see much
of it. In an hour we're getting on another plane. Hey, today is Pepito's
birthday. Come on, let's find a place to get some ice cream while we
wait."

At 12:10, Japan Airlines 5142 took off with four tired Americans on
board. It landed in Tokyo at 6:45 pm. "Now, are we in Hawaii, Malgum?"

"Nope, we still have one more flight, Pepito. This is Tokyo."

Juan again, "Tokyo! We've already been there. We're going round in fuckin
circles!"

"Hehe, sorry, buddy, but sometimes the planes don't go where you want.
Just one more flight, I promise you." Pepito grabbed Malcolm's middle
finger to remind him of another promise. He was not going to let Malcolm
renege on that one.

By the time they boarded United flight 9680, everyone was tired. And soon
after it took off at 9 PM Malcolm, Maria, Juan and Pepito were fast
asleep. They were only asleep about 7 hours when the flight attendant
woke them up to say they were approaching Honolulu. With the change in
time zone, it was already after 9 AM.

"What day is it," asked a sleepy Pepito.

"It's April 5th, little one."

"Huh???" What had happened? His birthday was yesterday. He remembered the
ice cream. Malcolm tried to explain the international date line to two
young boys who had just woken up. "Does this mean I got another
bird-day?"

"Well, yeah, sorta."

"Then now I'm eight. Yippee!!"

"Please, please, Pepito, don't grow up too fast. You can have another
birthday today if you promise to stay seven just a little longer for me."

"Well, OK, but only one year. No more. Hehe."

"It's a deal."

Malcolm stuck out his finger for the boy to hold and smiled as he thought
about the very special present he was planning to give Pepito in Oahu.