This story contains graphic descriptions of activity of a sexual nature involving a man and a minor boy. The story is not true; the sexual acts described herein derive solely from imagination. It is not intended to promote illegal acts with/to/by minors, nor does it condone child abuse of any sort. If you object to the subject matter, stop reading. If your reading of this material violates laws in your place of residence or where you are currently located, stop reading. Thank you.

This story is protected by the copyright conventions of the United States.

For the most part I see my stories as fantasy, though especially with this story, I hope there are elements that ring true. For those of you expecting extended scenes of torrid sex, you may be disappointed, though you will find—I hope—sensuality and eroticism. This perhaps reflects my own journey and what I feel is important about this story. (And for those of you who do want more graphic encounters, you might visit some of my earlier tales.)



Coming to Terms

Will S

Chapter 5

Along about 6:30 the next morning, Eric found me pacing. I'd loaded the canoe, and was waiting for my assistant. I'd been waiting since 5:45.

Eric smiled when he saw me. "I thought you might have gone."

"Well, I was supposed to, but Jim's absent without leave. And I can't leave without..." I never finished the thought; the telephone interrupted.

When I returned, I must have looked pretty bummed.

"What's the matter," Eric asked.

"At least now I know why he's late," I muttered, "That was Jim. He was in an accident. He'll be laid up for weeks, and it's going to' be a miracle if I can get somebody today. So...I hate to be a party-pooper, but I better go make some phone calls." I cuffed Eric behind the neck, and started into the cabin.

"Jason," Eric called with a note of urgency. "I could go."

I turned. "No, I'm afraid..." I was about to say that was impossible. But then I thought, why not?

"I could!" Eric protested. He sounded as forceful as I'd ever heard him.

"Eric...it'll be three days, four maybe. Your mom would be all alone."

"I think Mom only came up here 'cuz of me. If I wasn't here, I think she'd just as soon go home."

"Is she up?"

"I think so."

"Well...pardner...let's go have a talk."

In fact, Eric's mom wasn't awake...at least not until he banged up the porch stairs and slammed the screen door.

"Mom," Eric called through her closed door. "Hurry."

She appeared in no time, looking dutifully worried.

"I'm sorry, Ms. McDaniels," I began. "Eric, here, told me you were awake."

"Mom," Eric interrupted, "Jason's assistant got hurt and can't go with him, and he needs to find a helper and that could take a long time, and I said I'd go, but he said you'd be all alone, but I said you probably wouldn't mind going home for a few days, and we'll be gone three or four. So is it okay?"

It was the most words I'd heard come out of the boy's mouth in all the time he'd been with me. His poor mother, without benefit of morning coffee, was struggling to make sense of it all. She looked to me for help.

"Well, he would be a help, but I don't want to inconvenience you...if you have plans."

Eric looked up at his mother. "Pleez..."

His mother sighed. "Where will you be staying? In motels?"

Eric giggled and looked over at me.

"Actually, we'll be in a tent.

Dee's eyes widened, and grinned at her off-the-mark assumption about hotels.

"We don't have a sleeping bag with us."

"I can take a blanket," Eric answered immediately.

"I think I've got a spare sleeping bag," I offered. "All he needs is a few changes of underwear and a toothbrush. It's a pretty basic life out on the trail."

"Well..." Dee began, waving her hand in front of her nose, "I guess I'm glad I'm not invited on this little pajama party!"

Eric beamed. He knew right then and there his mother was saying yes.

He gave her a big hug and raced into his room to gather up his kit.

"He's really pretty taken with you," Dee McDaniels began.

"He's a great kid." She nodded and spoke quietly and sincerely. "I know your mother's spoken to you...about...Eric." I nodded. "I..." This was hard for her. She breathed in deeply, took me by the hand and led me outside. "I want you to help him, if you can...in whatever...way you can...to help him come to terms with who he is."

"Ms. McDaniels..." I began.

"No..." she interrupted. "I want you to understand...I want my son to know that he's okay...that...that...even though other kids are talking about things he may never experience, that in his own way, he can be happy, too. He has all these feelings, but he's still naive in so many ways. Let's face it, it's not something they cover in school."

"I want him to feel good about himself, too, Ms. McDaniels...but..."

"I'm ready!" Eric said bursting through the door. And that put an end to the conversation. He looked from me to his mom, and could tell something was up. "What were you two talking about?"

"I was telling your mom what a great kid you are."

"And I was telling Jason that I knew that already!"

Eric smiled shyly, and looked down at the floor.

"Now...you have your toothbrush...and sunblock...and soap...and clothes?"

"Yes, but I won't..." Eric stopped and looked dumbstruck. I could almost bet he'd been about to say he wouldn't be needing any clothes, but then that'd mean some real explaining to his mother.

His mom looked questioningly at her son.

"Mom, do I have to wear the sunblock?"

"You be the judge, Eric. I don't want you getting any sunburn. You understand?"

"Yes, Mom."

"Ms. McDaniels, if you need to get in touch with us, we'll be checking in a few times a day on the radio with the ranger station at Hidden Valley." I wrote the phone number down on a piece of paper and gave it to her. "I'll take good care of him." I touched Eric on the shoulder and he beamed.

I looked into Dee's eyes, and I could see her concern.

"Eric, why don't you go on and get your things packed into the canoe. And see if you can find the spare sleeping bag in the loft in my cabin.

"Sure!" When he had disappeared into the brush, I spoke to his mother. "Ms. McDaniels..."

"Dee. Please."

"Dee, Eric really is a great kid. He has more talent in his little finger than most people have in their whole body. His art is breath-taking. I know a shop where he could sell some of those sketches for plenty of money...and, like you, I want him to be happy...but...I'm not sure he even knows what all those feelings are."

"But you do think he's gay."

I looked away and thought.

"Yes. No. I don't know. Yes." I looked at her and tried to smile reassuringly. "Have I been clear enough? Actually, yes, I think he is gay...but what I think, and what you think...or anyone else, doesn't matter. He needs to come to terms with that on his own timetable. If he wants to talk about his sexuality, his orientation, I'll be ready to listen. If he wants my opinion, or support, I'm ready with that, too. But only if he's ready. To try to push him into a place he's not ready to go is as wrong as trying to push him in a different direction."

Dee thought about that. "You're right, I know you are, but I also know Eric's been very unhappy for a long time, now. I get the feeling that he IS aware of these different pulls and pushes, and he's afraid that's going to ruin his life. Your mom thinks you're one special guy, and I can see why." She smiled as I felt my cheeks growing warm. "And I think you're the one person I know who might be able to let him know he'll be okay."

I reached out and touched her shoulder. "I'll be ready when he is, Dee. And maybe this trip, with all this time on our hands, will be the perfect opportunity for him to talk about it." I smiled, and she tried to smile.

"I better get going, or he'll start wondering." I started back to my place. "We'll see you Thursday night."

When I got back to the cabin, Eric had loaded his stuff and the sleeping bag into the canoe. "Ready?" I asked, as I strode down to the shore.


"Well, let's shove off. "You're in front." He slipped his shoes and socks off, and plopped them into the canoe. Then we slid the canoe through the soft, damp sand and into the water. Before the water was up to his knees, he hopped in. I pushed a little more, then hopped in myself. "You ever been in a canoe before?"


"Well, you start off just paddling on the right side. I'll keep us headed in the right direction. Later on, we'll find our groove."

We started paddling, and by the time we were thirty yards off shore, I looked back. Eric's mom had come down to the beach in front of my mother's place. I waved. "Eric, it's your mom."

He turned and waved a big wave. I was sure she could see his toothy grin with no problem.

As the shoreline faded into the distance, Dee finally turned and climbed up the embankment. We were all alone.

"Where are we headed?" Eric asked.

"Almost straight across. You can't see it yet, but there's a river that runs into the lake from behind that little spit of land over there." We settled into a rhythm. I offered some instruction on canoe handling, paddling, and safety. As always, Eric showed he was a quick learner. If I had worried he might not be able to pull his own weight, I quickly learned I'd been wrong.

"What were you talking' to Mom about?" Eric asked after a while.

"Not much really..." My mind raced to say something that wasn't a lie. "Just what to expect on our trip."

Eric nodded. Silence. He was working something over in his mind. "D'you like my mom?"

"Sure I do. She's a nice person. I bet she's a great mom."

"Yeah." More silence. "You know she's divorced."

"I guess I assumed, I don't know for sure."

A longer silence.

"I think she's lonely, sometimes."

"Probably...but she has you."

Eric rolled his head in a circle. Even from the back, it seemed he was saying that was about the stupidest thing he'd ever heard.

"I mean, lonely in a different way...you know."

Suddenly I did know.

"O-o-h-h...Lonely. Right. Light dawns on Marblehead." (Writer's Note: Marblehead is a small coastal town in Massachusetts; sunrise there is spectacular. I hope this localism isn't out of place in the wilderness of the Northwest.)

He giggled. "Well," I continued, "she'll find someone, if that's what she wants. She's attractive, bright, fun."

"If you wanted to..." Eric hesitated. "Um...you could...you know...ask her out...I mean if, you know, if you liked her. Then I could see you once in a while."

I grinned. The little matchmaker was trying to make a match but with whom, for whom?

"Don't you think I'm a little too young for your mom?"

He looked back at me and grinned a kind of wicked grin. "Maybe she'd like that." He raised his eyebrows a few times in a suggestive manner.

I swatted my paddle at the water. The spray caught him full in the face. "Shame on you!" I said, with wicked smile.

He grinned.

After we paddled a while longer, I asked a question that might lead to more conversation. "You ever see your Dad?"

Eric's body stiffened, though there was only a momentary hitch in his stroke. "No," he said coolly.

"How come? Does he live far away?"

"I don't know. I don't know where he lives. Or if he's even alive." There was an edge to his voice, which I chose to ignore.

"Oh." I said. "How come your folks split in the first place?" I asked as innocently as possible.

Now the boy stopped paddling. I wished I could see his face, and I regretted asking such a delicate question when I didn't have the ability to be close to him.

"He's a fucking faggot," he snapped, "And I don't want to talk about it."

The sudden venonmous outburst stunned me into silence. "I'm sorry, Eric," I finally managed, "I'm sorry."

He turned to look off to the side, and I saw his lips drawn into a tight frown. A tear spilled down his cheek, and he abruptly turned and looked straight ahead and resumed paddling. He stabbed and the water and snapped the paddle backward. Eventually, he seemed to calm, and his stroke returned to its steady cadence.

By 9:30 we'd moved into the river. We let the canoe drive up onto the shore and took a break.

"Look at your muscles," I said, gesturing to his biceps. "You're getting a good work-out today, that's for sure." I reached over and wrapped my hand around his bicep and squeezed. "Nice."

Eric smiled, proud of his body, maybe for the first time. Your back muscles, too...if you could see 'em..." Suddenly I remembered something, and I gave a look of utter dumbness.

"What," Eric asked, concerned.

"I forgot the breech-clouts. Argggh! Dummy!"

"Not to worry," Eric said coyly, and stepped back to the canoe, reached down under his knapsack, and pulled up a large and a small.


He tossed me the large. I peeled off my shirt.

"You're gonn'a change right here?"

"Why not? You see anyone else around?" The boy shrugged. "I mean, you've been in a locker room, right?"

Eric reddened characteristically. "Well, yeah, but I've never seen..." He stopped.

"Never seen? Go on, Eric. We're going to be together for three days. We better trust one another. You do, don't you?"

"Well, yeah."


"He looked away, then back to me. "I've seen kids in my gym class, but never an adult. Naked."

"Well, there's not a lot of difference." I pulled my shirt off, then my boots and socks. "Besides," I added, "didn't you take a peek the other day?" I glanced up at him. His blush told me he had. Finally, I started to unbutton my shorts. Eric never took his eyes off of me. I unzipped, then let my shorts fall to the ground. All that I wore was my jock strap.

Now Eric dropped his head and looked away. A flush of disappointment flooded across me, but I recalled my words to his mother. He'd be the driver of this experience. He'd look when he was ready.

I slipped off the supporter, and fitted the breech-clout. "There."

I picked up my clothes and packed them into the canoe. When I turned around again, Eric had slipped off his T-shirt, and was dropping those awful baggy shorts. Now for the first time, I could get a real clue as to how big he was. It wasn't disappointing. There was a handsome package filling those bright blue Hanes briefs. I raised my eyebrows suggestively, then, to afford him privacy turned as he had done. "Okay, he said after a moment."

"And," I said," your record is in tact. You still haven't seen a naked man - at least not today." I poked him in the ribs, and he giggled.

"And you still haven't seen me!" he said, continuing in the silly vein we'd begun, but it was maybe just a little too close to the truth, because he suddenly colored right up to the roots of his hair.

"You know, I'll let you in on a little secret. Sometimes when I'm out in the woods, I go naked."

Eric practically gulped in a bucketful of air. "You do?"

"I do," I answered with a grin.

He settled down and thought about that.

"How come?"

"I dunno...it's just...I dunno...it feels good. I'm free...I like the feel of the sun and the breeze...everywhere. I guess deep down I'm a nudist."

Eric pushed at me, then: "You're weird."

I shrugged. "I've been called worse." I poked him again. "We better get going."

We paddled for another couple of hours, and ate lunch. By 7:30 we'd taken a measurement from the mountaintop, and got back down to the stream and the canoe. We worked together to set up the tent, laid out our sleeping bags, and I was going off to gather up some wood for the fire. Eric's job was to catch a couple of fish. He'd never fished before - not really, anyway, yet he caught right on to the subtleties of fly fishing. Not five minutes had passed before I heard him shouting.

I dropped the wood where we'd build the fire, and ran down to the stream. He'd tagged onto a great fish, and with a little coaching from me, he landed it. A fourteen-inch rainbow. A few minutes later, he got another, this one a bit smaller.

"Great job, Eric," I said, genuinely impressed.

"Do we need more?" he asked, clearly pleased with his first real effort at fishing.

"I've got a rule. Only take what you can eat. That's respect for all living things."

He nodded. While he was great at fishing, he wasn't so keen at cleaning them, though, in fairness, he managed to do one. He took off for the stream as soon as he could to wash his hands.

We got the fire going, cooked the fish, and heated up some beans. I also mixed up some dough and baked up a couple of biscuits.

I think this was the first meal, he ever had over an open fire, and he really enjoyed it.

Afterward we cleaned up the pots and dishes down at the stream.

"I think I'll go for a swim," I said. "Interested?"


I dove in, and Eric followed.

"Whew...it's cold!" he sputtered.

"Good for ya'," I said, and splashed over at him.

"Right," he muttered, and splashed back.

With that an all out war broke out, and he held his own pretty well. Our laughter echoed up and down the stream. Like a little boy, Eric had forgotten himself and was flailing with complete abandon. Even as I splashed back, I was struck at the transformation. I realized just how somber, he was most of the time, at least how reflective, introspective. We'd been working our way closer to each other, and finally, I turned in mock submission. In an instant, I felt two hands on my shoulders, and he jumped up on my back, swaying, trying to get me to lose my balance. Two days ago, I couldn't have imagined him being so bold - or so comfortable with himself or me - to do that. I reached behind me, and grabbed at him, and somehow my hand found its way under his back flap. It was entirely unintentional, and I knew I couldn't linger there, but I did manage to feel his firm, baby-smooth skin.

"Hey..." he screamed.

"Sorry, bud," I said lifting my hand away. I tried again, grabbing his leg lower down.

Now he clamped his legs around my waist even more tightly, and the heel of his left foot slipped under my breech-clout. It pressed against my dick and balls. If he was conscious at all, he'd have to feel it.

"Hey, yourself!" I snarled, and pulled his foot away. Now I struggled to the shore, and when we were almost on dry land, I flipped him around and in one motion, laid him down at the edge of the water. In the commotion, his front flap slid sideways, exposing his boyhood. I couldn't help but drop my eyes for just a glimpse. Soft, he was about an inch and a half, circumcised. His head was rosy pink, perfectly formed about the size of the tip of my index finger. I think I could see just the faintest wisps of downy pubic hair, the color of yellow-white corn silk. His scrotum was pulled up tight to his body; it was just slightly wrinkled and reddish in color. Clearly he was well on his way into puberty. I didn't look for more than a split second, but it was long enough for him to realize it. A flash of uncertainty spread over his face; for my part, I tried to act like none of this had registered with me. I moved up, and straddled his hips, and looked down in his eyes. I held his arms. He was pinned, but still he struggled.

"Truce?" I asked.

He quieted. I figured he was planning an escape.

"No!" he shouted, and raised his hip to throw me off him...which I let him do. Actually, I might not have been able to stop him, if I wanted to. The little bugger was strong.

Now he reversed position, sitting on my chest. If the circumstances were different, I could have lifted my head and licked one tasty little morsel.

Instead, I reveled in feeling his bare butt on my stomach. We both panted and quieted. He pressed his arms into my shoulders and gazed down at me. Neither of us moved. Our laughter eased into smiles, our smiles into looks of sublime understanding. Still neither spoke. Our breathing eased back to normal.

"I give," I said softly after a long time had passed.

Eric flashed a smile. The sun was low in the sky, now, and the remains of the fire was providing more illumination.

I sat up, and he slipped back off my stomach down to my hips. His bare ass rested on my dick, separated only by a thin piece of deer skin.

"I don't know about you, champ, but I got a bad case of sandy crack."


"Sand up my butt."

He grinned. "Yeah, no kidding."

I stood, letting him slide into a standing position. I moved out into deeper water and took off my breech-clout. I was standing back to him, and I heard him wade out nearer to me. I rinsed my garment, then dunked back down into the water to wash the sand from my back. He did the same. Now I slung the breech-clout over my shoulder and with my two hands, spread my cheeks and swished around to clean myself out. I turned around, to face him full on. He was standing there, just as I was. He made a motion to cover his nakedness, but then stopped. His eyes darted to my manhood, then up to my eyes. I nodded slightly, and headed back to the shore. Eric had taken a big step. Once I had seen him by accident, but this time, he wanted me to see him, just as I had wanted him to see me. Perhaps in the dimming evening light, it was all more acceptable. I walked to the edge of the campsite and urinated. As I finished up, I heard a stream of water splashing in the river. I looked over to see him grin, then self-consciously shake out the last few drops. I turned away, slipped on my breech-clout, and moved back to the fire.

I threw a few more pieces of wood on the fire, and sat down on a tarp. Sparks flew into the air.

In a moment, I looked up to see a scantily clad boy standing there, cowering, arms folded tightly in front of his chest.



I patted the mat next to me. "It's warm by the fire."

He sauntered over and sat. He sat closer to me than he needed to.

I looked over and his teeth were actually chattering, and he had goosebumps all over. I reached out and rubbed one hand on his chest, the other on his back. As I did so, I ever so gently drew him toward me. With even the slightest resistance, he could have stayed exactly where he was; but he didn't resist, not even in the slightest. Instead, he leaned into me.


"Mmmm," he responded. He stared dreamily at the fire. In that moment, he seemed utterly contented.

I put my arm around him and held him close. We sat there until the fire faded. Several times, I set out to talk to him about his sexual orientation, and mine, but I was afraid. This was a special moment for each of us - but maybe for very different reasons. I couldn't know without talking. And talking seemed like the worst thing either of us could have done in these moments.

At 9:30 or so, we both crawled into the tent.

"Better leave your breech-clout out here. It's still wet," I said, as I removed my own. He did, too, so naked, we both covered over in our sleeping bags. From his soft, regular breaths, I think Eric was asleep almost right immediately. I lay there thinking, trying to recall the fleeting touches of my skin on his, of a young boy's body glowing in firelight, perfectly formed. As I lay there, remembering, my body tensed, then I began to harden. I glanced over and could barely make out his angelic face, His smooth forehead; small, inviting ears, tiny nose, pouting lips, dimpled chin.

I pulsed into my full seven inch hardness. My hand found its way downward and pulled back the foreskin in preparation for relief which I suddenly desperately needed. I realized this had been building for two days. Before it was too late, I got up and went outside. I wanted him to be comfortable with nudity, but I knew he wasn't ready to find me staring at him and jerking off. Instead, I finished myself off outside. Just thinking about Eric got me more excited than I'd been in a long time, and when I shot, my cum exploded in hot pulses splashing a yard or more from me. It was the release I desperately needed. I stood there for a long time, waiting for my body to recover. When it did, I crawled back into the tent and quickly fell into a deep sleep.