Date: Tue, 1 Jun 2010 17:51:24 -0700
From: Gary Pinto <gmony6@gmail.com>
Subject: Part 10 of "The Wild Times of Timothy Church"

THE WILD TIMES OF TIMOTHY CHURCH
By: Max the cat

(M/t/b-MM/b-M/b)

Comments and Suggestions to gmony6@gmail.com

Part 10: Decision time!

     The snows hit with a vengeance. Timothy helped out every day, yet he
kept his distance. He did what was asked of him, he even went to church
with his family, but something hung over the whole situation, he longed to
leave and he stayed packed at all times. His family had thought he had come
around. he still lived in the bard with Brother Wolf, Pedro and Ramon.

     There had been an incident. A man named Walter Grass, he heard Timothy
had a wolf and he rode up in December. "Here you all have a wolf here, how
much for the pelt?" Timothy strapped on the cap and ball pistol and walked
up to the man. "I see your a braggart and very fat and you had better be
better than I with your pistol, I would love another eagle feather in my
hair." Walter was flabbergasted, no one had ever talked to him like that
before.

     "You young pup, I ought to kill you!" Timothy walked away ten paces,
as he counted the paces he yelled out "either you draw at ten or run and
run fast!" When Timothy turned Walter had rode away and fast. Jeddah looked
at his youngest "would you have Timothy?" Timothy looked at him coldly
"yes, with pleasure, then I would have cut his cock and balls off and
stuffed them in his mouth, no one, and I mean no one threatens my friends
or family and Brother Wolf is family." He walked back into the barn to
clean the rifle that had belonged once to a dead Jace Kimball.

     Pedro, Ramón and William couldn't believe how cold Timothy could be,
yet Brother Wolf always kept an eye on Timothy and Timothy did the same,
they were insuperable. A week later Timothy and Brother Wolf rode into the
hamlet, Grass saw the boy slowly ride in, he immediately made himself
scarce, for Timothy had seem him and rode straight toward him, Grass had
gone pale. Timothy used some of the gold from the bag to resupply with
ammunition and a few other supplies. The store owner asked him "you plan on
a trip, son?" Timothy didn't look up, but just stated straight forward "I
am going home soon?" The man didn't understand, "I thought you were home?"
Timothy paid and walked to the door "I am only visiting here, I am a
Pawnee, and they don't live here." he turned and he and Brother Wolf rode
slowly out of town.

     In late February Timothy saddled up and started to ride away, his
father ran out and grabbed the bridle. "Just where do you think you are
going Timothy?" Timothy lost his smile "let go of the horse Father, I am
going back to my people." The older man didn't release the reigns. "I don't
think so, I'm your father and you'll do as I say." Timothy looked him
straight into his eyes." he didn't say a thing. Brother Wolf started a low
growl and Jeddah dropped the reigns. Timothy kicked the side of the pony,
and he and Brother Wolf trotted away without looking back.

     The rest of the family gathered on the veranda and watched him
disappear into the east. Martha had tears running down her cheeks. "Let him
go Jeddah, maybe someday he just might return, but I guess we lost him at
Tall Rock that day long ago, right now his isn't our Timothy, but the
Pawnee's White Wolf!"

     The sun set early. He saw someone ridding fast, he waited and made a
fire. he smiled when he saw it was Ramón. the young Mexican boy stopped and
jumped off the horse. "Timothy you did not say good bye, I am hurt."
Timothy grinned "I thought it was better that way, you must find your own
way and own life my friend, plus my family was making a scene. "Timothy
placed a hand toward the fire "please sit and we can talk, you can spend
the night with me, but you must go back, I am going home!"

     Timothy and Ramón snared three big rabbits and some doves. They
cleaned the kill and cooked them over the fire. They gave an uncooked
rabbit to Brother Wolf along with a dove. The boys ate and then laid on the
buffalo robe, under the woven blankets. Timothy pointed up at the big and
little dipper, then pointed out where the Evening Star was located and
explained how she ruled the Pawnee and himself. Timothy could feel Ramón's
hands roam over his body, he didn't try to remove them, but lets his hands
do likewise.

     The two naked boys played with each other, hands lips and tongues
taking liberties that sent the two to unseen heights of sexual
pleasure. Ramón straddled Timothy's midsection, the twirled both nipples
and Timothy returned the same tweaks. Ramón slid down until his mouth came
in contact with Timothy's hard throbbing penis. Holding it in the moonlight
le ran his red wet tongue up and the hot fleshy length. He jacked it up and
down and produced a creamy dew drop of precum at least five times, licked
and sucked them clean.

     Timothy was in the height of sexual pleasure and ran his slim whiter
fingers through Ramón's thick black hair. "Ooohhh Ramón suck me, lick me it
feels so wonderful." the Mexican boy looked up at Timothy and grinned, a
couple of brown fingers were inserted inside of Timothy's body. They
wiggled and probed until they found Timothy's spot, the white boy couldn't
hold back any longer and short forth hot sperm into the Mexican's boys
sucking mouth.

     Ramón licked Timothy clean, then pushed the white boys legs up and
pressed his brown skinned penis into Timothy and began a slow and
methodical fucking of Timothy's ripe young body. In and out Ramón drove in
his cock, his brown, almost black eyes were closed as he relished the hard
driving of his boi-cock. "so good, so apretado" he said as he reverted into
Spanish then back into English. Timothy's legs locked Ramón in tight as he
ground down on the hard brown flesh.

    Finally Ramon couldn't hold back any longer. His brown cock swelled,
his purple head pushed past the foreskin and the slit opened and shot forth
his creamy essence deep into Timothy. They had to stay in place as they
drained Ramón of all his semen. The two snuggled under the blankets and
fell asleep under the stars. Brother Wolf lay at their feet, keeping an eye
out for anything strange.

     In the morning Timothy sent Ramon back to the Church farm. "I am
trying to get back to Pawnee, my real people and it might be dangerous for
you to come along. As I made my way to the Oregon Territory the tribes and
soldiers I encountered warned of the Comanche raiding parties moving north,
I must try to bypass them and make my way to the Pawnee. Ramon was unhappy,
but did as told and left for the farm. before he left Timothy asked him
give his mother a message. "Tell he I do love her and the family, I wish
that Tall Rock had never happened, I would have been the son you wished
for, but I am different and the Pawnee have accepted my being different,
the "wasichus" would never accept me, please forgive my difference."

     Timothy headed northwest into the land of the Nez Perce. He and
Brother Wolf rode slowly, the woods were full of hazards that weren't
human, Timothy felt lucky to have Brother Wolf along side, the canine had
senses Timothy had none of. Bears, Lynx and Mountain Lions were at home
there.

     They came to an opening along the Snake river, the meadow was blooming
and on the opposite side were son seventy tepee's. Some squaws and children
were gathering wild onions and other greens. a little girl looked up and
yelled to her mother, then ran to her. Timothy heard the squaw yell and out
from the tepees came the braves. Three approached Timothy and Brother
Wolf. Timothy raised his right hand in the sign of peace. The older Indian
nodded for Timothy to approach. The Indian motioned for a young Indian to
come to his side. The young Indian was the older Indian's son and spoke
English, he had been taught by some missionaries.

     "My father wants to know who you are?" The boy asked. Timothy nodded
and said "tell him I am White Wolf of the Pawnee, I am on my way home from
a quest the Evening Star had placed on me." The boy looked at him a bit
funny, then spoke to the older Indian in the language of the Nez
Pearce. The older Indian spoke to the boy, who then translated to
Timothy. "He wants to know how come your are white and have yellow hair,
but a Pawnee?"

     Timothy grinned and told the whole story. The Indian boy looked at him
funnier than before. he relayed the story to the older Indian. The older
Indian shrugged and spoke to the others then to the boy. The other braves
spoke among themselves, it didn't make much sense, but they had heard a
story that had traveled from tribe to tribe about a white boy living with
the Pawnee and had killed three hated Blackfoot braves, and Timothy wore
three eagle feathers in a knot in his yellow hair.

     The boy turned to Timothy "my father wants to know if you are the
white boy who killed three Blackfoot braves?" Timothy nodded "I did, I did
it to rescue a Pawnee friend, Little Bear, we live together in the Pawnee
village, I was helped by a pack of wolves, Brother Wolf here and I are part
of the wolf pack!" The boy almost out of breath relayed all the Timothy
told him. The older Indian said something and the boy starting to get
somewhat tired trying to relay two languages "my father the Chief welcomes
you for as long as you can stay."

     Timothy smiled and asked the boy his name "the missionaries gave me
the name of Joseph and also the name they gave my father." The boy knew
that his name in the native language would not be understood by
Timothy. Timothy followed the boy and the Chief into the camp. The braves
wanted to hear the story of how he killed the Blackfeet, they were hated as
much as the dreaded Comanche, both wanted the Nez Pearce land, the Comanche
also wanted slaves, and they would take women and children if they could.

     A single brave kept looking at Timothy He sat next to Timothy and said
to young Joseph that his tepee was available if Timothy would like to share
it. Timothy smiled and thanked him through young Joseph. "I would be
honored to accept your invitation, then asked the braves name. His name was
translated into English as Hunter of Birds . Timothy told him that he had
been given the name of "White Wolf" by the Pawnee and would rather be
called that. Hunter of Birds that dove smiled and spread out "W-h-i-t-e
W-o-l-f.

     As the ate the chief asked young Joseph to ask Timothy why he didn't
stay with the white people, since he rode all the way there?" Timothy then
relayed that it was determined that he go by the Evening Star and it was to
give peace to his white family, who were not sure if he was dead or alive,
and it would give them some closure and peace of mind." The older Indian
and the braves nodded and talked among themselves, then the older Indian
told young Joseph to tell Timothy that the Evening Star was very wise
goddess.

     Timothy went up stream with Hunter of Birds and bathed, the dust and
dirt of the trail was over his body. the Indian scrubbed Timothy and
Timothy did the same for the Indian. hands roamed over bodies and each held
the other's throbbing stalk. Timothy's head rolled from side to side, the
Indian's thumb rolled over the red cock head and sent shivers up Timothy's
back side. Timothy returned the cock head roll.

     They dried off and wrapped in blankets. The two went to the Indian's
tepee. Inside Timothy turned around, dropped the blanket and let the Indian
view his slim white body in all its nakedness. Hunter of Birds looked the
boy up and down. He dropped his blanket and gave the boy the same view,
each were vey erect, the excited each other immensely. The Indian walked to
the boy, his big hands roamed over Timothy's white body.

     The two fell to their knees, the Indian's hand grasped the boys
hardness and pulled it back and forth, Timothy lay back and pulled the big
Indian with him. He rolled the Indian on his back holding the long brown
tube. He ran his red tongue around and around the brown hood that guarded
the throbbing corona. Timothy opened his mouth wide and the fleshy tube was
pushed forward, red lips clamped down hard and held it in place, washing
the tip in wet warm saliva.

     Timothy's Indian lover groaned and moaned as the young white boy's
mouth moved up and down on the brown fleshy length. Timothy was showing how
well of a cock sucker he had become and how much he liked to give pleasure
to his partner. Hunter of Birds ran his big brown hands through the boys
white blond hair, he could also see the sparkling blue eyes, something he
had never experienced before in life.

     Timothy removed his mouth, licked his lips and the opened wide again
and sunk his mouth over and down until he had swallowed the entire length
of brown Indian male sausage Timothy's red lips nestled into the sparse
pubes and let his red tongue began to wax the Indian's tightening ball sac,
his saliva painted the skin a glossy brown.

     Timothy was enjoying his oral ministrations. He sucked the ball one at
a time. He sloshed them around in his mouth. Then smiling he began to work
his way up the underside of the saliva glossed stalk, Up Timothy sucked and
licked the throbbing hard flesh until he came ti the upside down "v" below
the purple corona. He wanked to produced a creamy bead and then he sucked
it off.

     Hunter of birds was almost out of his mind as he received the sucking
pleasure Timothy was dishing out. Timothy held the shimmering appendage in
his hand, he released another gob of stick saliva on to the purple cap then
straddled the hard cock and placed it at his waiting hole. he looked at the
big Indian, smiled and pushed down, his body slowly sunk down onto the
quivering cock until it totally disappeared into his young white body.

     Timothy had a big smile on his face, his ground down and began to
clamp down with his inner muscles. the big red man could feel the boys anal
muscles milk his cock like he was being sucked out of his creamy sperm,
which was bubbling like it was being boiled inside a hot caldron. The two
bodies bounced together Timothy bouncing up and down on the Indian's big
brown spike.

     Timothy could feel the grip of He who Hunts Birds big hands on his
slim white hips. The boy was being pushed and pulled as his body slid on
the hard red man's penis. Timothy's own cock stuck straight out, his right
had had hold of it, he jacked himself off, his body was in the Indian's big
hands. Timothy was almost there himself, he could feel the hard fleshy
stalk swell and throb, they were both almost there.

     Timothy was breathing harder, he was wanking faster and faster, the
single eyes at the tip of his cock, which had pulled out of hit fleshy
sleeve and opened wide. His hot creamy goop fired out and hit the big
Indian on his right brown nipple. A second blast hit right below his chest,
and a third covered Hunter of Birds outie belly button.

     Timothy's cuming set off Hunter of Birds. His cock swelled inside of
Timothy, then erupted shooting his creamy semen deep into the young white
boy he was fucking, as far as he thought it could last forever, although he
knew it wouldn't, it never did. He shot of once, twice, thrice and then a
hard fourth time. The sperm went so far and then retreated and oozed out
and into a creamy puddle around the Indian's depleted nut sac.

     The two slept arm in arm. in the morning they swam in the cool stream
waters. Eagles screamed as they hunted and told one another that this was
their territory. Timothy and Hunter of Birds swam and found they were very
hungry. They found a clutch of Prairie Chicken eggs, and boiled them in a
pot. The ate them with some dried pemmican then went to sleep. Timothy
rested and made plans to leave the next day. He knew that Hunter of Birds
would want him to stay, but Timothy wanted to get home to the Pawnee
village as soon as possible.

     Timothy departed the Nez Perce village, heading south east. Brother
Wolf tagging close behind. The sun was high in the sky and a light breeze
blowing. They rode for two days making good time. The stayed close to the
river. The sound was broken in the distance by the crack of rifle
fire. Timothy slid of his pony, he was in a depression and was well
hidden. He made sure his cap and ball was at the ready and the rifle was
loaded and ready to answer any danger.

     He crawled up and looked over to bluff and saw a group of some ten or
twelve Indians circling a group of soldiers, they had planted their red and
white swallow tail in the ground and were firing back at the band of
Indians. At first he wasn't about to involve himself, but recognized the
band of Indians were marauding Comanche. They were raiding north and had
trapped these soldiers. He looked at Brother Wolf "should we get involved
or not?" The wolf looked at him, funny.

     Timothy took aim on what looked like the Comanche leader, he had
raised a hand as though he wanted the band to charge the soldiers. Timothy
fired and the leader was shot off his horse and never moved from the
ground, Timothy reloaded and took aim again and shot a second. The band was
in shock. the soldiers began to lay down a rapid fire and killed two
more. In a minute the band had lost a third of their strength, and still
hadn't figured out where the other shooter was. Their shock cost them
another, Timothy had reloaded and zeroed in on another and killed him. The
soldiers began to fire and dropped two others, what was left of the band,
rode away hard to the south leaving their dead as they lay.

     Timothy hopped up on his horse, pulled out the bowie knife and trotted
toward the clumps of what had been fierce Comanche warriors. As Timothy
rode close one started to arise, Timothy grabbed the cap and ball and
placed a shot in the man's head and dispatched him to the happy hunting
grounds. Timothy slid off the pony and proceeded to cut off trigger
fingers, in the next life they couldn't use a gun or grasp an arrow.

     The soldiers slowly rode up. Captain Miles O'Hare, a bandana around
the wound on the side of his head. "Where in the hell did you come from,
Timothy isn't it?" Timothy stood up and wiped the Bowie Knife on his
clothing "yes, it's me White Wolf, I see you have been wounded." O'Hare
said "it's only a scratch, I have one dead and two wounded quite bad, we
were watering our horses when they hit us."

     Timothy got back on his horse. "I was with the Nez Perce and they told
that the Comanche were raiding farther and farther north these days, I
didn't think they would take on the military?" Timothy said. The Captain
added "they are attacking everything these days, wagon trains, farms and
Indians too, I thought you were going to Oregon?" Timothy told him he had,
but didn't fit in and decided to cast his lot with the Pawnee.

     Timothy rode to the forest area and cut saplings and brought them back
to make travois to carry the wounded. They had buried the corporal who had
been killed, his grave had been piled with rocks to keep the animals from
digging up the remains. Timothy took the cover from a hardtack container
and made a marker. he rode with the soldiers, although they had killed two
thirds of the raiders, he didn't want to be out there by himself.

     On the next day one of the wounded died. The buried him on a bluff
overlooking the Snake river. Again the piled rocks on the grave. This time
they placed a cross on the grave and nailed a board giving the name and
date of death. No one had known the date of birth, all they knew is that he
had come west from New York and joined up. Timothy shot a deer and they
cooked the animal over a fire, he also gathered wild onions and they were
also cooked on the side of the embers, he had cut a raw piece for Brother
Wolf first.

     They rode to Fort Bridger, which was actually a trading post run by
and old man named Jim Bridger and his half breed sons. Bridger had come
west in the teens to hunt beaver and never left. It was said he fell in
love with a Cree or Osage woman and the land, he never left. He decided
that there was more money in supplying the Mountain Men than being one. He
was half blind, but when he sat Timothy, who introduced himself as White
Wolf, the old man could not stop laughing. "Boy, you say you are a Pawnee,
fuck boy you are the whitest Indian I done ever saw, I don't mean to call
you a liar, but I know the Pawnee and you are a white boy if I ever saw
one." Captain O'Hare grabbed Timothy's hand before he could draw the cap
and ball, calling a man or boy a liar was fighting words.

     Captain O'Hare looked at Bridger "I'd hold my words Jim, the lad
killed three maybe four Comanche and last year three Blackfeet single
handed. he was adopted by the Pawnee, but you had better ask him about
that, he's one hell of a shot." Bridger looked at Timothy and stood back
"Didn't mean to offend you, you didn't clarify anything, you should have
said you had been adopted by them, sorry." Timothy relaxed his gun hand.

     The old man walked up put an arm over Timothy "please tell me the
story, I'm always interested in some news, especially when someone kills
three Blackfeet single handed." Timothy looked at the old Mountain Man, "I
did have help, a pack of wolves, I am also part of their pack, me and
brother Wolf there." he pointed at the black wolf sitting by the door and
keeping his eyes on the old man.

     "You say he and you are brothers and you are also a Pawnee, fuck will
wonder's ever cease." he pulled out a jug of homemade liquor and handed it
to Captain O'Hare. Captain for you and what's left of your patrol, I have
some apple cider here for young Timothy or White Wolf, whatever he likes to
be called. "Timothy looked at the old Mountain man turned trader "White
Wolf, call me White Wolf." Bridger grabbed the cider jug "then it's White
Wolf."

     Bridger looked over the rifles the Comanche had "where did they get
these "Volitation Repeater Rifle's" never seen one of these, someone either
sold them to the Comanche or they stole them, I heard of them from old Dan
Cox when he and Indian Bob came through, said someone named Hunt had
designed them with a man named Jennings back east. O'Hare had four of them
they had picked up after the fight, along with twenty boxes of ammo.

     Bridger gave O'Hare a hundred in gold for them. he then handed one to
Timothy "son if you are as good a shot with that one you have, you should
love this one, also here you better take a couple boxes of ammo also."
Timothy didn't know what to say. the old man told him to say nothing "it's
kind-a peace offering, didn't mean to offend you in any way.' Timothy
thanked him two or three times. "Son" if you all want to do some hunting
for me, I can pay you a good wage." Timothy thanked "JIm Bridger" "I don't
need no money sir, I have some gold, besides, Brother Wolf and I have to
get home, maybe if I come back this way I will take you up on the offer,
who knows what the future has in store for me?"

     Timothy left with the soldiers. He rode some twenty miles with them
before they parted ways..........When he and Brother Wolf camped he counted
fifty rounds in each box. He played around with the leaver attached
rifle. Timothy laid back it was his fourteenth birthday, and 1850, so much
had come and gone and he had still so many miles to go to reach the Pawnee
village, he and brother Wolf would head north into the woods, he would
chance the Blackfeet and not the Comanche, although he wasn't sure who were
scarier?

Part 11: The return home!

Thanks to Cutterman! Thanks to all the artists who have given me all the
inspiration!

Look for: Part 3 of "Finding Austin Branch! Part 7 of "The Slutty Side of
Eric!"