Date: Mon, 2 Oct 2006 10:50:42 -0700 (PDT)
From: Mark Friedman <forcewielder2000@yahoo.com>
Subject: A Native Story

This story involves references to homosexual sex involving minors. If, for
any reason, anyone would have any problems with you reading this, then it's
best for you to leave now, or at least first take steps to keep from
getting caught (and if you're one of those prudes who objects to gay sex in
any form, then one wonders why you're here at this site in the first
place).

This story is completely fictional, and, as with any such work of fiction,
any resemblance to any place, event, or person (living or dead) is purely
coincidental.

Copyright is to me, and the story may not be reproduced anywhere without my
prior permission.

Comments can be sent to me at forcewielder2000@yahoo.com (flames will just
be ignored!).

~Mark

*********

12-year-old Billy sat with his parents quietly having breakfast. A couple
of months ago he'd told them he was pretty sure he was gay. He'd always
felt that he could talk to them about anything, and that was certainly
something he felt that he could share with them, even though most people
wouldn't like him too much for it. Billy began to suspect he was gay after
he began imagining living in North America centuries before, when Native
American Indians still roamed freely, some of the men and boys wearing
little more than loincloths (if that much; he'd learned that in some tribes
in warmer climates, males seldom wore anything at all!), and he'd began
having urges towards the boys depicted in the drawings and photos of the
books he'd read about Native American Indians after hitting puberty.

At the news, his mother had smiled and nodded, though she was sure it was
just a phase Billy was going through as he became accustomed to the new
feelings that puberty brought.

'Pervert,' Billy's father thought, though he didn't say it out loud. He
still loved his son, and always would, but he just thought it was wrong for
a guy to have sexual feelings for another guy. He didn't know if it was
cause by environment, heredity, upbringing, or some combination of those
(or something else altogether), and didn't really care.

While Billy knew his parents would always unconditionally love him, he
could tell they were a little disappointed by the news. They had humorously
stated more than once over the years that they expected lots of grandbabies
from their kids, and while several of Billy's brothers and sisters were
already married with children, and the rest likely getting there in the
next few years (Billy being the youngest, with almost 7 years between him
and the next youngest, a brother who was very popular with the girls in
high school), he knew that his parents kind of expected grandchildren from
*all* their children.

After breakfast, Billy went out for a walk in the woods near their home. He
sometimes imagined that Indians lived there at one time, and hunted and
fished in the large nearby lake (though his mother had told him that to the
best of her knowledge, no Indian tribes had ever lived in the area, even
before the United States government had forced many tribes to move to
reservations, and none had moved into the area in the present day, but that
still didn't prevent him from imagining). Oh, how he longed to be able to
know Indians, and maybe have sex with an Indian boy!

He kicked a few rocks as he walked along. Soon he looked up to find that
his course had taken him to the lake. He decided to go out rowing in the
small rowboat that he kept tied up on the shore. He was so eager that he
forgot to pay a lot of attention to the weather; while it was summertime,
big storms sometimes blew in unexpectedly. He untied the boat, pushed off,
and hopped in.

After rowing a while, he noticed the cooler-than-usual breeze and looked up
at the sky to discover dark clouds looming overhead. He looked towards
shore only to see that he was quite a ways out. He didn't think that he
could make it back in time, so he started heading towards a small nearby
island. But he wasn't fast enough, and quickly found himself in a big
rainstorm. Gusts of wind and large waves rocked the boat violently, and
Billy was forced to bring the oars in and hold on to the sides for dear
life.

Just when he was beginning to wonder if this was the end, he noticed
something approaching. The form solidified into an Indian boy, not much
older than Billy, paddling towards him in a canoe. Without a word (not that
Billy felt he would have been able to hear the other boy anyway in the
storm anyway), the boy tossed him a line. Billy grabbed it, and the other
boy began paddling again. Soon they arrived at the island (or at least
Billy *thought* it was the island; it was kind of hard to tell in the
storm). Securing both boats, the Indian boy signaled for Billy to follow.
The two quickly arrived at a small cave (which Billy recognized as being on
the island in question).

After the two boys moved to the back of the cave (where Billy found a small
fire burning; in the light, he noticed that the other boy was dressed in
only a loincloth and moccasins), the Indian boy indicated that Billy should
remove his wet clothing. Despite his desire to have sex with an Indian boy
very much like the one standing before him (sex, of course, involved
removing one's clothing first), Billy suddenly found himself feeling rather
modest. It was one thing to want to do something like sex, something else
entirely to actually do it (or at least the first part of it). But the
Indian boy stood there, looking at Billy expectantly with an expression of
"Well?" on his face.

Billy, feeling his face go warm, slowly pulled off his shirt, then his
shoes and socks, and finally his pants. He thought he could get by in his
underwear, but the other boy indicated that had to go as well, so Billy
pulled off his briefs as well. Then the Indian boy helped Billy spread his
clothes out on a rock next to the fire to dry. After that, much to Billy's
utter amazement, the Indian boy kicked off his moccasins and dropped his
loincloth, setting them next to Billy's clothes. If Billy was a cartoon
character, his eyes would have literally popped out of his head at the site
of a naked Indian boy standing there (and even as it was, Billy felt that
his eyes were ready to do just that!).

The Indian boy sat down on a blanket spread out by the fire, and indicated
that Billy should sit down next to him. Billy did so, hoping that he
wouldn't embarrass himself by getting an erection. His parents might be
accepting of the fact that he was gay, but this other boy might not be so
understanding.

The two sat there for a time, not saying anything, listening to the storm
outside and the crackling and popping of the fire inside.  Then the Indian
boy cleared his throat, and Billy looked over at him. The Indian boy
pointed down at his lap, and without thinking Billy looked down to see what
he was gesturing at. Billy found himself looking at the Indian boy's dick,
erect. It and the balls right underneath it, and the pubic hairs that
surrounded them, were the most beautiful things Billy had ever seen. He
looked up at the Indian boy's face with wide eyes. The other boy looked
back, smiling. It wasn't an evil smile, but one that was very kind, almost
as if he was saying, "Would you like to...?"

Billy's fragile self-control collapsed at that point, and his own dick
quickly rose upward. The Indian boy glanced downward at Billy's lap, and
looked back up. Then he leaned forward and gently kissed Billy. The two
boys, still kissing, slowly sunk down.

The Indian boy was clearly no stranger to this, so much that when Billy
found the other boy's dick being pushed into his butthole, he didn't even
cry out in pain. Some blissful time later, Billy, laying on the blanked
drowsily, felt the Indian boy rise, and press something into his hand.

***

"...and the Indian boy and I had sex for hours!" Billy, dressed in a warm,
dry bathrobe, concluded at the dinner table in his home, where he'd been
telling his parents what had happened between the time he'd left the
previous day and the time that a search party had found him asleep, naked
and wrapped in an old blanket, in the cave that morning, his dry but very
wrinkled clothes on a rock next to the smoldering remains of a fire. At his
fervent request, they'd searched for the Indian boy, but had found no
indication that anyone else had been on the island recently (and, since it
was a small town, no one had noticed any Native Americans in the area
lately).

"That's nice, dear," Billy's mother said, not really believing him.

'Pervert,' his father thought once again, not believing him either. The
boy'd simply found an old blanket, firewood, and matches left behind by
some previous excursion to the island, and simply had a very vivid wet
dream, that was all. His father'd had several wet dreams himself at that
age; why should his offspring be any different?

Billy sighed inside; he could tell his parents didn't believe him.  But
that was all right, he decided as he got up and headed into his room. Just
because someone didn't believe him, it didn't mean it didn't happen. All
right, so maybe the sex with the Indian boy didn't last for literally
hours, but it sure seemed like it had!

Billy sat down at his desk, wincing slightly at the pain in his butthole.
He opened a desk drawer, and pulled out the ornately carved rock the Indian
boy had left in his hand, and smiled.