Date: Thu, 24 Mar 2011 12:16:22 -0400
From: spider3x3@excite.com
Subject: A Matter of Honor
This is a work of erotic fiction meant for mature readers over the age of
eighteen years.
Send any comments to: spider3x3@excite.com
A MATTER OF HONOR
by TY SHANNON
Jonathan crouched in the laurel thicket, his long Kentucky
rifle ready for any trouble, while he studied the narrow river in
front of him intently. One end of a birchbark canoe lay smashed
against some rocks near the far bank of the river, and a few minutes
ago he had seen a broken paddle go floating by. He knew what had
happened, because he had seen the canoe over an hour ago a couple
miles upstream, with its lone Indian paddler apparently unaware of
the falls in the river. Well, now the man knew -- the question was
whether he survived.
Jon stayed there for a full ten minutes, watching and
listening. But finally he began to move stealthily up the river
bank towards the falls. He made as little noise as possible, since
in this year of 1757 the man who lived the longest in the forest was
the one who saw his enemy first. He had no way of knowing what
shape the paddler was in after going over the falls, nor whether
there were any other Indians nearby, but he wasn't taking any
chances.
In another 15 minutes he could hear the roaring of the falls,
and he worked his way forward from tree to tree. He peered around
the next bend in the river -- and saw the Indian lying on a gravel
shoal near the bank.
He stood there for several minutes, looking and listening.
When he was sure there was no one else around, he went forward
quickly. He propped his rifle against a large tree and bent
over the still form. He could see a long bloody gash on the man's
forehead, and his left forearm was broken and bent at an odd angle.
He felt the man's neck -- it was warm and his pulse was weak,
but he was still alive.
He squatted there, debating what he should do. He knew he
could splint the arm right there, but he would probably have to
carry the Indian back to his camp in order to nurse him back to
health -- assuming he wasn't badly hurt internally.
Never one to hesitate when action was called for, he made his
decision and quickly dropped the small pack from his back. He
pulled the Indian up onto the bank, and could see that he was young
-- probably in his early twenties. He was wearing a buckskin
breechcloth and leggings, but no shirt, which meant that there was
probably a small pack of clothing and supplies that had spilled out
of the canoe. He was only about 5'10, and lean and supple, so he
didn't weigh more than about 160 pounds.
Working swiftly, Jonathan broke off a couple thick branches to
use for splints. Not knowing any way to handle the problem easily,
he held the man's upper arm down with his foot, grasped the wrist
and pulled sharply. He heard the bones grind a little, but the arm
straightened out. So he took a leather thong from his pack, cut it
into two pieces with his hunting knife, and bound the splints
tightly to the arm, to hold it in place. Then he wiped off the
gash in the man's forehead, and was relieved to see the cut was not
very deep.
Now came the tough part -- getting him back to camp, which was
over two miles from here. Jonathan was tall -- almost 6'2 -- and
large and well-muscled, from many years of living in the wilderness.
He knew he could carry the man since he had carried deer that heavy
before, but he would just have to stop and rest from time to time.
Besides, there was no other way to do it.
But first he took a couple strips of dried venison from his
pack, and sat down and ate. As he chewed on the tough meat, he
plotted out in his mind the easiest path back to camp.
He gazed at the unconscious form of the Indian, who had the
dark reddish-brown color typical of his race, and straight, dark
hair. He had no paint on his face or body, so he was probably not
with a war party, which was good to know. His limbs were slim but
muscled, with noticeably long smooth legs. He had no hair on his
chest -- just a slight trail down the center of his stomach where it
disappeared beneath his breechcloth. Except for the wound on his
head and a few bruises from the river, he was a good-looking young
man.
When Jonathan had finished eating, he drank deeply from the
river. Then he took his rifle and walked on up the river bank to
the falls. He managed to find the Indian's buckskin shirt, a soggy
blanket, and a crude hunting knife. There might be a rifle around
somewhere, but he couldn't take time to look for it now. He
gathered up the things he had found and went back to where the
Indian lay. These things he tucked back under a large rock away
from the river, along with his pack -- he could come back later and
get them.
Finally he was ready. He placed his rifle where he could get
it easily, and then lifted the Indian up and threw him across his
shoulder. Then he picked up the rifle and strode off through the
woods.
It was almost dark when Jonathan finally arrived at his small
cabin. He gently eased the unconcious man down to the ground and
sat down to rest. He was weary from the long trek and sweating
profusely, in spite of the lowering October temperature.
But shortly he jumped to his feet and entered the cabin -- he
needed to get a fire started before it got dark and he could no
longer see. He pulled a small wad of tinder from a bark box in the
corner, and in the fireplace he built up a pile of dried twigs which
he kept handy. He struck his flint and steel rapidly, and soon had
a small flame started. He slowly added larger sticks till there was
a cheery blaze burning.
The light flickered on the walls of the small cabin. It was
only about 10'x12', but it was adequate to his needs -- a place to
sleep, room to store some supplies, and space for a pile of furs
which he would accumulate during the long winter months. It was
constructed from posts stuck in the ground and tied together with
vines, with slabs of bark woven into the walls and roof. There was
a small hole above the fireplace to let the smoke out, and a
deerskin hung down over the only doorway. It was certainly nothing
fancy, but it protected him from all but the worst weather -- and it
was "home".
He went outside and hauled in bigger chunks of wood for the
fire, which was soon throwing off plenty of heat. Then he lifted
the Indian up and carried him inside, and laid him on the pile of
hemlock boughs Jonathan used for a bed.
He placed his hand on the man's forehead, and could tell he was
feverish -- he would need something to eat and some medicine, if he
could be made to swallow.
But first he decided he'd better get the Indian's soggy clothes
off -- he would never get warm with them on. The moccasins slipped
off easily. Then he untied the leather cord from the man's waist,
which held up his leggings and breechcloth. The wet leather
leggings wanted to stick to his skin, but with some tugging they
eventually came off. Then he pulled the breechcloth from under the
man's buttocks.
Jon looked down at the soft cock and the small patch of black
hair surrounding it, and was a little embarrassed at the man's
nakedness. He realized that he had never before thought about what
an Indian would look like naked -- but it was obvious now that he
would have balls and a cock just like any other man. But finally he
pulled himself away and hung the soggy clothes on pegs sticking out
from the wall, where they would eventually dry.
Jon kept only two cooking utensils in the cabin -- a small iron
pot and an iron skillet. He took the pot now and made a couple
trips to the nearby spring, to fill up the small water barrel that
stood in one corner. Then he brought in three armloads of wood, so
that he was set for the night.
He hung the pot over the open fire with some water in it, and
threw in a few chunks of meat, a cut-up potato, and a couple Indian
vegetables. Everything except the meat he had to use sparingly,
since they couldn't be replaced before Spring; but tonight he
thought he'd better make the stew especially rich, since his guest
would need it when he awoke.
Then he sat down cross-legged against one wall and lit up his
pipe, to wait for the stew to cook. He stared at the still form on
the bed and wondered where he came from, and what he was doing in
this part of the country. His eyes slowly scanned the muscular
figure and saw that the man was sweating profusely. He didn't know
much about medicine, but he thought that was a good sign. He
watched the Indian's chest rise and fall slowly, and admired the
tight muscles in his abdomen. And then suddenly he realized that he
was wondering what that cock would look like when it was hard. He
blushed in the semi-darkness, but had to admit to himself that he
was curious about it.
When his pipe had burnt itself out, he took a wooden spoon and
ate some of the stew, and washed it down with a drink from the
barrel. He had a crude cup carved from a buffalo horn that he used
for the purpose. Then he swung the pot away from the flames so the
food wouldn't burn -- he could heat it up later, whenever he wanted
it.
He sat down again near the fire and began working on a pair of
half-finished heavy moccasins that he would need in the coming
winter. After awhile he got up and put another log on the fire --
and noticed that the sick man was now shivering uncontrollably, even
though the cabin was very warm.
Remembering something his mother had taught him, he knelt
beside the man and started to massage his limbs -- that was supposed
to help his circulation and prevent the shivering. His strong
fingers kneaded the flesh on one thigh and worked slowly down to
the ankle, and that seemed to help. So he did the other leg and
both arms. Then he massaged the man's muscular shoulders and
chest, and down to his abdomen -- but he was careful not to touch
the hairy patch at his crotch.
When he finished, he could see that the shivering had slowed
considerably, so he decided he'd better do it some more. But as his
hands worked on the man's thigh again, he began to remember a time
when, as a boy, he and his brother had been playing in the barn.
They had been wrestling together in the hay mow, and had both
developed hard-ons; and they shortly stripped naked and explored
each other's body, and played with each other's cock. They
eventually jerked each other off, their jizz spraying all over
the place from the intense excitement. They had both been pretty
embarassed about it and never talked about it again, but Jon always
got excited when he thought about that scene.
And now, as his hands moved over the Indian's tight flesh, he
found that his cock was starting to get hard. He lifted his hands
away and stared at the man's dick, and felt he should stop -- but
instead his hands went back to the man's leg and began caressing
the skin. His fingers slid gently up the thigh, and he marveled at
how soft and tender it felt. His hand brushed accidentally against
the limp cock, and he pulled away as if he had been burned. He sat
there and stared at the cock, wondering again what it would look
like when it was hard.
Then he screwed up his courage and ran his fingers through the
black crotch hair, noticing how stiff and coarse it was. He forced
his hand down around the balls, and finally lifted the soft prick in
his palm. But he was sweating, and his own cock was throbbing
inside his breechcloth.
He quickly stood up. This was too much! So he stepped outside
into the cold night air and waited till he had cooled off. Then he
went back inside and covered the naked man with a blanket, so he
wouldn't be tempted again.
An hour later he had finished one moccasin; so he put it away,
and banked the fire for the night. Then he undressed and wrapped
himself in another blanket on the floor, and went to sleep.
Sometime in the middle of the night he awoke and became
instantly alert -- he had heard something. He listened intently,
but all he could hear was the normal night sounds outside the cabin.
But then the Indian groaned quietly, which must have been the noise
that woke him.
Jon sat up and looked over at the man on the bed, and could see
that the blanket had come partway off him. So he stood up and
knocked up the fire, and put a few small sticks on it to give off
some light.
The man seemed to still be asleep, but he was tossing
restlessly and sweating heavily again. Jon brought over some water
and dribbled it onto the man's lips. His tongue came out and licked
at the water, so Jon gave him the rest of the water in the horn and
he swallowed it readily. He brought another cupful for him, and
then took an old shirt and wiped the sweat from the man's face.
He knelt next to the bed and watched, but the Indian
immediately fell back asleep. Jon was naked in the cool night air
and ready to get back into his own bed, but as he reached to adjust
the blanket over the man he noticed a distinct bulge at the man's
crotch. Still being curious, Jon lifted the blanket away and gazed
down at the man's naked body. In the flickering firelight he saw
the Indian's hard cock laying on his abdomen, pointed towards his
face.
Jon just stared -- it was beautiful! Not as thick as his own,
but a good 8" in length. As he gazed at it, his own dick started to
lengthen also, and his face grew hot. His hand began to stroke
himself and his mouth became dry -- he just stared and stared. He
didn't understand why this affected him so.
His cock quickly extended to its full size and he caressed it
roughly, loving the sensations in his gut -- he hadn't jerked off in
at least two weeks. As he played with himself, his other hand
reached tentatively towards the Indian's stomach. His heart beat
madly as he rested his hand on the man's hard dick. He stopped and
watched -- but the Indian didn't move. He must be sound asleep.
He really didn't know quite what to do, but his guts were
boiling and he knew he wouldn't last long. He ran his fingers
easily through the black hair and fondled the man's balls, as he
stroked himself a little faster. He was breathing heavily, and
tried to be quiet -- he certainly didn't want to wake the man.
Then he wrapped his fist tightly around the Indian's hot cock
and just squeezed it lightly. He held it there, gazing at the man's
solid muscles, while the pressure built up in his loins. And then
suddenly, with a quiet groan, he came! His stomach tensed and his
jizz spurted out into the night air -- three, four, five times --
and splashed onto the dirt floor! God! It was wild!!!
He released his grip on the man's still-rigid cock and sat back
on his heels, as he milked the last drops of come from his dick.
Then he stood up and wiped his hand on the old shirt.
He covered the Indian with the blanket and got back into his
own bedroll; but he lay awake for a long time, vividly picturing in
his mind the sight of the man's big prick and muscular body,
wondering why he should be so excited by it. But finally he fell
back asleep.
--------- ___ ---------
Jon awoke early in the morning and dressed quickly. The Indian
was still sleeping, so he grabbed his rifle and slipped outside to
make his regular morning scout. He moved quietly through the woods
in a big circle around the cabin, looking for any sign that might
indicate the presence of strangers.
In 30 minutes he was back at the cabin, satisfied that there
was nothing amiss. Inside he built up the fire and swung the pot
over it to heat up the stew.
He heard a slight noise, and turned to see the Indian
struggling to sit up. He went over and gently pushed the man back
down onto the bed. "Easy, fella', you've been hurt pretty bad."
The Indian just glared up at him -- he probably didn't
understand English. So Jon tried speaking in the Seneca tongue, as
well as he could. "My name is Jon. You've been hurt pretty bad."
The man's eyes lit up a little, but he didn't reply. So Jon
went over to the water barrel and dipped out a horn of water and
took it back to the bed. He raised the man's head and helped him
to drink. "You need something to eat, and some medicine for the
fever. I'll have it ready in a few minutes."
He went over to the fire and dished out some of the stew onto a
wooden plate for himself. Then he selected a few dried herbs
hanging on the wall and dropped them into the remainder of the stew,
and stirred it for a few minutes. When he thought it was ready, he
took the pot over next to the bed. He helped the man to sit up and
fed him a small spoonful. He chewed and swallowed, and opened his
mouth for more. But after a couple minutes the man took the spoon
from Jon's hand and began to feed himself. So Jon sat there and
watched, while he ate, too.
When the pot was empty, the Indian said, "More water." So Jon
fetched him another hornful. Then the Indian lay back and stared
at the ceiling.
Jon took the pot and utensils out to the spring and rinsed
them off, and returned to the cabin. Then he filled his pipe and
lit it from the fire, and sat against the wall and waited.
After about tem minutes Jon spoke, "I saw your canoe heading
down the river, but I didn't know if you were aware of the falls or
not."
The Indian looked over at him. "No. This is a new place
to me."
They talked slowly for half an hour, struggling occasionally
over unfamiliar words. Jon learned that the man's name was Tayoga
and that he was a Huron from north of Lake Erie. He was down here
exploring and hunting.
Jon explained how he had gone down to the river and pulled the
man out, and brought him up to the cabin; and that he would go back
later today and bring back the equipment he had left there.
But then Tayoga became drowsy from the medicine, and shortly
fell asleep. So Jon took his rifle and went back down to the river.
He searched both banks of the river, but all he could find was the
Indian's bow. So he pulled his pack on and gathered up the other
things, and made his way back to camp.
Since Tayoga was still sleeping, Jon ate some dried meat for
lunch and went out to hunt. He shot a small deer near the top of
the hill, and cleaned it and carried it back to the cabin. It was
almost dark when he arrived, so he hung the carcass from a nearby
tree, high enough so that wolves couldn't reach it. It would be
cold enough to keep through the night, and tomorrow he would cut it
up and dry the meat over an open fire, so that it would last for the
winter.
When he finally went inside, Tayoga had his breechcloth and
moccasins on and was sitting in front of the fire, with a blanket
draped over his shoulders. He looked up at Jon and spoke, "You
saved my life. Tayoga does not forget."
Jon just smiled. "Glad I was handy."
--------- ___ ---------
The next day was cloudy and chilly, and Jon spent the day
taking care of the fresh venison. Tayoga helped as well as he could
with just one hand, but he tired easily and Jon made him lay down
for a while. He kept several chunks of the fresh meat to use over
the next few days, and dried the rest. The hide needed to be
scraped and tanned, too, but that would have to wait. That night
they dined on fresh venison.
The following day looked like an early snow might be coming,
and Tayoga agreed. So Jon spent the day cutting and splitting
firewood, and stacking it near the cabin. He didn't like to be
caught short in bad weather.
Sure enough, late in the afternoon the clouds opened up and
thick flakes began to fall. It quickly coated the ground and
started to pile up, but Jon knew that this time of year such a storm
wouldn't last long. Still, he and Tayoga would be pretty much
confined to the cabin for a couple days.
That evening after supper the wind picked up and the
temperature dropped, and Jon was glad they were not stuck out in the
open somewhere. Tayoga was feeling much better, but his broken arm
was very painful. He agreed that it would be several weeks before
he would be able to paddle a canoe, and Jon told him he was welcome
to stay as long as he liked. Tayoga didn't talk a lot, but they
seemed to get along fine, and he helped Jon whenever he could.
--------- ___ ---------
Late in the evening they were sitting in front of the fire,
side by side, listening to the storm outside. Tayoga was not very
talkative, but eventually they told each other about their earlier
lives, and swapped ideas about hunting and living in the wilderness.
Finally the talk died, and they just sat there looking into the
fire. The cabin was quite warm, so they were wearing just their
breechcloth and moccasins. Tayoga seemed lost in thought, but
eventually he spoke, "Jon-a-than, I owe you much. What can I do
to repay you?"
Jon looked over at him. "You don't owe me a thing, Tayoga.
Just forget about it."
Tayoga stared into the fire. "That is not the way of my
people. It is a debt to be paid."
"Ahh, forget it. Someday you may do me a favor."
They were quiet for several minutes. Then Tayoga reached over
and took Jon's hand, and placed it on his bare thigh. Jon was
shocked -- he almost couldn't breathe! The Indian's skin seemed to
sear his flesh and he quickly pulled his hand away.
Tayoga glanced at him. "Why do you pull away?"
Jon couldn't look at him. "It's not right."
Tayoga studied the flames for a few minutes and then spoke,
"Among my people, the path of a man's life comes from his dreams.
Hah-wey-ni-ho, our Great Spirit, sends the dreams to him, and the
tribe's medicine man helps him to understand what they mean. Five
years ago I received my medicine dream, and I know that I am to
follow the Way Of The Loon."
Jon looked at him. "The Way Of The Loon?"
"Yes. I am to spend my life with a man, not with a woman."
Jon swallowed deeply and looked back into the fire. He
wondered if that meant what he thought it did. "What does that
mean?"
"That I am to be the mate of a man, and share his life."
"You mean that is permitted among your people?"
"Yes, if that is what my dream tells me. The whole tribe
knows that I must follow what my dream says, and that is
accepted."
"Well, among white people such a thing is not allowed. It is
considered sinful."
Tayoga thought about that for a bit. "I do not understand
this sin. I have heard the Black Robes talk about it before.
Hah-wey-ni-ho has given me this body, and I have learned many joyful
things to do with it. How can such joy be bad? Why would he make
such feelings possible and then tell me it is bad?"
Jon had wondered about that himself, and was beginning to wish
he hadn't been so quick to pull his hand away. "I don't know,
but that's what I was taught."
Tayoga looked into Jon's face, and let his hand rest on Jon's
naked thigh. "You have been good to me. The only thing I have to
give back to you is myself, and I wish to do that. Is this bad?"
Jon was embarrassed and confused. The more he thought about
the idea, the more it excited him. But it was wrong! Or at least,
that was what he had always been taught. Now he wasn't so sure.
But he didn't push Tayoga's hand away, and his dick was getting
hard.
After a few moments he replied, "No, it cannot be bad. You
do me a great honor, Tayoga, but it just takes getting used to."
They sat there for several minutes, staring into the flames.
Then Tayoga began to softly caress Jon's thigh. Jon blushed in the
flickering light, but his cock was hot and hard. He placed his hand
on top of Tayoga's, and pressed it tightly against his leg to keep
it from moving. His mind struggled with his dilemma, but his blood
was heating up and his heart was beating faster.
Then Tayoga spoke again, "Jon-a-than, your mind struggles
with this question, but I think your spirit already knows the
answer. I have seen you looking at me, and I felt your hand on my
body the other night -- and I heard you when you came."
Jon gasped quietly -- and then his muscles relaxed. "I
didn't know you were awake. I've been wondering ever since why I
did that, but now it looks like it was meant to be." He moved his
hand over so it was resting on Tayoga's bare thigh, and looked into
his eyes. "But I've never done this before -- I don't know what
to do."
Taygoa looked back at him, "You do not have to know. Just do
what I do -- or what your heart tells you to do."
Then Tayoga stood up and put some more sticks on the fire, so
there was more light. He untied his waist strap and let his
breechcloth drop to the floor, and stood naked in the flickering
firelight, with his half-hard cock arching away from his muscled
body.
He reached his hand down to Jon, who took it and came to his
feet. Tayoga reached over with his good hand and loosened
Jon's strap, and his breechcloth fell to the floor also. Jon's
dick was hard and throbbing, and stood out proudly from his torso.
Tayoga's hand caressed gently over Jon's stomach, and then took the
hot cock into his hand. Jon closed his eyes and stood there, every
muscle tense, wondering what Tayoga would do -- but thrilling to the
sensations.
Tayoga stroked the dick several times, and then ran his hand
through the surrounding hair and played with the balls hanging
below; and he stroked the cock some more. Then he reached over and
took Jon's hand, and pulled it down so that it was resting on his
own prick.
Jon looked down at Tayoga's cock and caressed it, and watched
as it grew to it's full length. They stood there for several
minutes, playing with each other. Then Jon grew bolder and gave in
to his desires, and let his other hand slide over the Indian's
taut skin -- across his chest and small nipples, down to his muscled
abdomen, and finally around to his hairless ass cheeks. His mouth
was dry and his heart was pounding fiercely in his chest -- and he
knew that he really wanted this.
Then Tayoga stepped forward and put his good arm around Jon's
shoulders, and pulled their bodies together. Jon hesitated, but
then wrapped his arms around the Indian's body and they hugged.
Their hard cocks were trapped between their bodies, and heat seemed
to flow between them. Jon just closed his eyes and let his hands
roam over the Indian's back and buttocks, enjoying the feel of the
smooth skin beneath his fingers.
Finally Tayoga moved back and dropped to his knees, his face
just inches away from Jon's huge prick. Without hesitating, he
thrust his face forward and took the dick into his mouth.
Jon just looked down at him, shocked. Such an action had
never occurred to him, and his stomach recoiled from the idea. But
then the hot wetness around his cock worked its way into his guts,
and he stood there with his eyes closed while the Indian began to
suck on him. He stroked it slowly and evenly, in and out -- in
and out. Jon's blood boiled from the new sensations and he gasped
for breath. God! He never knew it could feel this good!
Tayoga reached around and grasped Jon's ass cheek, and pulled
his body closer, forcing the hot cock all the way into his mouth.
Jon could feel the head of his dick striking the back of Tayoga's
throat on every stroke. He could feel his balls tightening. He
whispered hoarsely, "Damn, you'd better stop! I'm gonna come!"
But Tayoga didn't stop -- he made his mouth tighter and stroked
faster, and squeezed and tugged at Jon's ass. Jon grabbed the
Indian's head and thrust his hips into the steaming mouth. "YEAH!!
NOW!! I'M GONNA COME!!!" And he did! He came -- and he came -- and
he came!!! He could feel Tayoga swallow, but he just kept stroking.
And Jon spurted again and again!!!
But finally, when Jon's cock started to soften, Tayoga stopped.
He sucked the last drops of come from the tender cock head and
let it slip out. Jon looked down at Tayoga. "My God! That was
incredible!"
Tayoga smiled and licked his lips. "That is my gift to you.
How can that be bad?"
Jon laughed, and pulled Tayoga up onto his feet and took him in
his arms. They just stood there for several minutes, resting.
Eventually Jon pulled away, and began to stroke Tayoga's
still-hard dick. He watched the Indian's body react for a few
moments, and then looked up at him. "I guess you must have done
this before."
Tayoga smiled back at him. "Yes, I have had a good teacher.
But I have still not found my life's partner. That is the primary
reason for my trip down to this country."
As Jon continued to stroke Tayoga's cock, he stared at the
solid muscle with the dark veins wrapping around it. He ran his
hand over the tender thighs, and caressed the balls, and stroked the
beautiful cock some more. His gut told him he wanted to taste it in
his mouth and feel the soft skin on his tongue, but his head still
struggled with the idea. He licked his lips, and his heart beat
faster.
Tayoga seemed to know what Jon was feeling, and spoke softly,
"Do not be afraid. Do whatever you want."
Jon swallowed deeply and slowly sank to his knees. He held
the throbbing prick in his hand and gazed at it, right in front of
his face. But finally his tongue snaked out and licked tentatively
at the gleaming cock head. Tayoga didn't move -- he just stood
there and watched.
Then Jon leaned forward and let the pink head slip into his
mouth. He held it there and slid his tongue around it, enjoying the
feel of the velvety skin. His heart was pounding in his chest, and
his own dick began to lengthen again. Then he pushed his mouth
forward and let the Indian's cock slide deeper into him. When the
head reached the back of his throat he started to gag, so he pulled
back a little, surprised at that reaction.
But then he started to stroke on it with his mouth, and watched
it sliding in and out in front of his face. He just closed his eyes
and sucked it, for a long time.
After several minutes, he could hear Tayoga's heavy breathing
and could feel him thrusting a little. Jon opened his eyes, and
could see Tayoga's stomach muscles tightening. He remembered the
way the Indian had done it, so he made his lips tighter and stroked
faster. Tayoga moaned quietly in his throat, and his hand came
down and ran through Jon's hair.
Jon worked his head even faster -- he felt the cock head
pulsing inside his mouth, and he knew Tayoga would come very soon.
But then suddenly he got a little scared -- he was afraid of the
taste of the stuff in his mouth. So he quickly pulled his mouth
off and took the hot cock in his hand, stroking it as fast as he
could.
Tayoga groaned loudly and thrust forward with his hips -- and
he came!!! His jizz spurted forcefully and splashed right on
Jon's cheek! He spurted again and again, and the stuff sprayed all
over Jon's chest!
Finally, when Tayoga stopped spurting, Jon stroked the hot
dick a few more times and stopped. His own heart was throbbing
painfully in his chest and his prick was rock hard again.
Jon looked up at Tayoga and smiled. Tayoga smiled back, "That
was good, Jon-a-than." Then he took his finger and wiped the glob
of come from Jon's face. He held the finger out towards Jon's
mouth. "Here -- there is no taste to it." Jon hesitated, but
then sucked the finger into his mouth and licked it off. He was
surprised that it didn't taste bad at all -- next time he would
know.
--------- ___ ---------
For the next couple hours they sat in front of the fire,
sometimes talking and sometimes not. They were naked and sat with
their legs touching, sharing a blanket wrapped around their backs to
ward off the stray drafts of cold air that occassionally snuck
through the cabin walls. Jon quickly got over his reluctance to
touch the man's skin, and let his arm drape down across Tayoga's
thigh.
Tayoga told Jon about his medicine dream and what it meant, and
described a few of his experiences with another man of his tribe who
also followed the Way Of The Loon. Jon was shocked when he heard
how one man could fuck another; but after thinking about it he knew
it could be done -- but he didn't see how it could ever be enjoyable
to the one getting fucked.
Eventually Jon went outside to take a leak. He was still
naked, and he felt that the temperature was below freezing. But the
snow had stopped falling and a fresh 3" layer of white covered
everything. The clouds had blown away and a bright moon created a
ghostly aura about the clearing -- and it was beautiful!
He turned back to the door of the cabin, "Tayoga. Come here."
The Indian's muscular body showed briefly in the light at the
doorway, and then Tayoga stood naked next to him. "Look. Isn't
the sight magnificent?"
Tayoga quietly surveyed the scene and nodded. "Hah-wey-ni-ho
provides us with many pleasures in this world." They stood
together silently for a couple minutes, and then Tayoga looked into
Jon's eyes. "You are a good man, Jon-a-than. You are not like
the other white men I have met. The spirit of the forest dwells
inside you, and that is good."
But shortly the cold began to penetrate Jon's body and he led
the way back into the cabin. They went over to the fire to warm up,
and Jon put some more logs on it. "You should sleep in your bed
tonight," Tayoga said, "I can sleep on the floor. This is your
home."
Jon stared into the fire for a few moments, and then put his
arm around Tayoga's shoulder. His heart fluttered briefly as he
replied, "Why can't we both sleep in the bed?"
Tayoga smiled easily at him. "I would like that very much,
but it was not my place to ask."
Tayoga banked the fire for the night while Jon spread the
hemlock boughs out to make a little more room. Then he spread a
blanket on the bed and they both lay down, and pulled another
blanket part-way over them.
After a few minutes Jon rolled over on his side facing Tayoga
and let his hand rest on the Indian's stomach. Tayoga responded by
laying his hand on Jon's thigh. Jon caressed the smooth muscles for
a while and let his hand drift down to Tayoga's prick -- and he
found it had started to grow again. So he ran his fingers through
the coarse hair and down over the tender thigh, and then wrapped his
hand around the hardening cock. He smiled, "You may have started
something, my friend. I'm finding I enjoy playing with your body."
Tayoga looked back at him. "That is good. I have offered my
body to you hoping you would like it, for I enjoy it, too."
Jon stroked the man's dick, and then on an impulse leaned down
and kissed him on the lips. Tayoga just looked blankly at him and
did not respond, so Jon asked, "Don't Indian's kiss?"
"Was that a kiss?"
Jon chuckled. "Yes. Do it like this." And he leaned down
and kissed Tayoga again, long and slow. The Indian pursed his
lips, trying to copy Jon, and kissed him back. Then Jon pulled up.
"White people do it all the time, when they want to show they care
about someone."
"I think it is good, but I will have to learn how." He lifted
his lips up to Jon and they kissed again, and Jon continued to play
with Tayoga's dick.
When they broke apart, Jon smiled, "But of course you are only
supposed to do it with a woman."
"I think I would rather do it with you." They both laughed.
Then Jon pushed the blanket back, and leaned down and took
Tayoga's hard cock into his mouth. He was no longer nervous about
it, and began to suck on it -- up and down -- up and down. He
tried to concentrate on what he was doing, making his lips tight
and taking as much as he could in his mouth. Tayoga just lay there
enjoying the sensations, his abdomen tightening and thrusting
slightly.
After several minutes Tayoga lifted Jon's head away and looked
into his eyes. "Jon-a-than, I would like you inside of me -- all
the way."
Jon swallowed and looked back at him for a minute. "You want
me to fuck you?"
"Yes."
"But won't it hurt?"
"Do you have some grease that you use for cooking?"
"Yes, in a can by the fireplace."
"If you put some on your finger and use it first, that makes it
much easier."
Jon stroked Tayoga's dick slowly as he thought about it -- he
had never even fucked a woman before. But he knew he could do
this, and his churning guts told him that he wanted to.
Finally he threw the blanket off and went to get the can of
grease. Tayoga rolled over on his stomach and spread his legs, and
Jon came back and knelt between them. He scooped a little grease on
his finger, and spread the muscular ass cheeks with his other hand
so he could see. Then he slowly slid his finger into the puckered
asshole. Tayoga lifted his ass a little as he felt the intrusion.
When Jon let his finger slide out, Tayoga turned to look back
at him and said, "Put some on your cock, too." So Jon took some more
and smeared it liberally over his hot prick. Then Tayoga lifted his
ass up in the air a little, and Jon moved closer till his throbbing
cock was positioned right at the puckered hole. Holding his dick to
guide it, Jon pushed against the sphincter -- but it didn't want to
go in.
Tayoga lifted his head. "Go ahead -- push it."
So Jon leaned forward and pushed harder, and after a moment of
hesitation the head popped in. Tayoga just said, "Push it --
farther." Jon shoved harder, and Tayoga pushed back at the same
time -- and Jon's prick slowly buried itself into Tayoga's ass.
When his pubic hair was flattened against the Indian's ass
cheeks, Jon stopped. His breath gasped -- it was so hot and
tight!! He was afraid he would come right away, so he just held it
there for several moments till his blood cooled a little.
But finally he leaned forward on his hands and started to
stroke his big cock into the man's ass -- in and out -- in and out
-- slowly and evenly. Tayoga groaned at first, but then his ass
was lifting and thrusting back to meet Jon's strokes.
The sweat began to roll down Jon's sides. "God, Tayoga, this
is fantastic!"
"Do it harder!"
So Jon pushed roughly each time, and felt his abdomen crush
against the quivering ass cheeks. He thrust and he thrust -- he
could see Tayoga's head forced down into the bed on every stroke.
He watched as his throbbing cock slid into Tayoga's ass, and the
hairless ass cheeks flattened against his stomach. The heat
surrounding his dick made his blood boil, and the sensations crept
down into his balls! He stroked harder, slamming into Tayoga's ass!
He was afraid he might be hurting the man, but Tayoga just groaned
in his throat and kept pushing back to meet the thrusts.
Jon tried to hold back -- but he couldn't! "I"M GONNA
COME!!!" Faster and harder -- and he came!!! His jizz spurted
into the flaming asshole -- again and again!! Tayoga groaned
louder, and took it all!
But finally Jon stopped, exhausted and breathing heavily. He
lowered himself down onto Tayoga's back, not wanting his cock to
slip out, and they settled down onto the bed. The sweat from Jon's
body dripped down onto Tayoga's back, and they just lay there and
rested.
After several minutes Jon felt his prick softening, so he let
it slip out, and then he rolled off Tayoga onto the bed. Tayoga
turned towards him and let his arm rest on Jon's chest. Jon kissed
the man gently. "God, Tayoga, I didn't know it could be that
great!" The Indian just smiled back at him.
They lay there for a while, and then Jon realized that Tayoga's
dick was still hard and pressing against his leg. He reached down
and grasped it, and squeezed it gently. Tayoga twisted his hips a
little so his cock was more readily available, and Jon began
stroking it with his hand. He thought briefly about offering to let
Tayoga fuck him, but decided he wasn't ready for that yet.
He looked into Tayoga's eyes. "It's your turn, my friend.
How do you want to do it?"
Tayoga thought for a minute. "Get up here and put your prick
in my mouth. I will do it." So Tayoga rolled over onto his back,
and Jon got up on his knees with his soft dick in front of the
Indian's face. He leaned forward on his hands and Tayoga took the
big cock into his mouth. Tayoga's tongue started to work on the
dick while he began to stroke himself. Jon just held his body still
and watched.
It didn't take long. Tayoga's muscles strained as he beat his
cock. His legs spread a little and his toes pointed as he felt the
sensations building. Jon felt his dick begin to lengthen a little
as he watched, so he started stroking easily into the hot mouth.
Tayoga stiffened and groaned in his throat -- and he came!! His
jizz sprayed across his chest and stomach!
When Tayoga finally stopped shooting, Jon pulled out and lay
down beside the man. Tayoga just smiled, and rubbed his come into
the flesh on his stomach.
After a bit the chill in the air began to creep into Jon's
body, so he reached down and pulled the fallen blanket up over them.
He rested his arm across Tayoga's chest and kissed him. "Thank
you, Tayoga, for a wonderful gift."
Tayoga kissed him back. "That is what I wished."
As Jon began to drift off to sleep, he wondered what it would
be like if he and Tayoga could live together -- permanently.