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    POTTERY-SHARDS-7                          "Boy Seeds"
    {Part #7 of 9}                            Copyright 1997 by Vince Water
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                                  "Boy Seeds"

       The boy glanced up from the ground, his eyes full like the moon
    gazing back at him. Stern grey brightness for a naked thing discovered.
    'What thought Grandfather Moon,' the boy wondered?

       Cricket song returned. A night's silence that comforted him like a
    warm blanket. His breath stilled and heart beated more softly. All done.
    'This time, his need had spilt to the ground?'

       Worry rose in the boy's breast. He wondered what harm his stretching
    had done to his body... no pain. Only a great feeling as always. 'More
    thrilling this time!'

       To have done it though. The terrible aching and lightning thoughts
    in his head while down there a strange, sweet pain. He had taken his
    hurting and turned it around; stealing the body. To handle his sweaty
    stiffness for need and pleasure. The holding of breaths. Wiggling his
    butt until the stick in his hands surged like never-ending lake waves.
    One great wave had come out.

       "Why?" he asked anyone listening.

       Silence. Stars twinkled nicely and Moon only watched him. His small
    hands reached upwards to dare: Great Unseen Power. To strike him down,
    yet did not. A small relief in giggling. Done, his night-sky game of
    challenge. The Above could have struck him down for such boldness. His
    new wetting. It was need that didn't say why, only to do it!

       A slight breeze cooled him down there. The boy looked at that
    sticking low on him. Shrinking from no more drum-beated need after the
    war-danced climax. That which had made his stomach heavy, his breaths
    hold and heart race from the sweet thrill of it. All finished. 'But what
    of the wet ground?!'

       A voice spoke in the boy's head with images from the past. Memories
    of things that had made no sense to him before. He remembered the young
    naked brave kneeling before his nightly fire. The man had been on his
    knees, moaning as if in pain. One of his hands rubbed his butt while
    the other handled the fleshy stick grown between his legs. The boy had
    watched it all with awe.

       The brave's naked game was simple. After growing his cock to full
    length, he had pulled on it in beated time. It was a game that had
    thrilled the boy in his own loins. Good tingles with its growth. He had
    secretly joined the brave's male rite. The urgent need had been born in
    him then.

       Only stars had witnessed the boy's act as he spied on the brave. He
    mimicked the swaying, butt-humping movements with hands rubbing over
    his erection and butt that had felt so good. The boy was thrilled to
    play the brave.

       The fine game had ended quickly. As intense feelings pleasured the
    boy, he heard the brave cry out in warning. Wet arrows had flown from
    him to the tipi floor. It didn't seem like pissing... The boy had tried
    making the same wetting but all he had done was to make himself sore
    down there. 'Why couldn't his wet?'

       The young boy knew the man as his friend and had entered the tipi to
    ask. A lesson begging to be learned! Wild eyes had fallen on him
    though. Reluctance replaced earlier boldness in the boy's breast. What
    spoke for him was his warpainted, red-swollen pole against a dry belly.
    The man had understood.

       The brave's answer had been to point at his wet spot on the ground.
    "That was manly seed that should have been put into squaw; not spilt
    here," the brave had explained. The boy asked why his seeds hadn't
    spilt. The brave had told him to grow some more.

       "So now I have grown!" the boy proudly announced with raised arms to
    Grandfather Moon. He ran to tell his friend. He would show that young
    brave, who was now a warrior, that his could now wet 'boy seeds!'

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         {end of file: POTTERY-SHARDS-7     The stories continue in: -8}