Date: 28 Dec 1998 14:31:34 -0800
From: poondu@members.gayweb.com
Subject: Eliot Elliott Eliott

Along this Way, with my Self so entwined with my fantasy, its hard to know
which events are truth and which fiction; they are all truths in my heart
and it has been said before in my writing: If it didn't really happen this
way then it should have.

			   Eliott Elliott Eliott

by Thole <poondu@members.gayweb.com>

I never did learn how to spell his name. I met Elliot the third night I was
in Sheffield. It was early winter but still warm; I would be here for ten
weeks at a communications school and living in a motel. That night, driving
back to my room and thinking of what to do with myself for the next two
months, I was rather down.

The boy's Scout shorts and sox were unmistakable in my lights and I didn't
wait to see if he would turn around and hitch. I slowed the big old van and
stopped beside him; he got right in.

- Thanks, but I live only a couple of blocks down.

That's Ok, I always pick up a Scout, I said as I pointed to my badge pinned
to a stuffed turtle on the engine cover.

Oh! neato and an old one too, he said as he picked it up... I was a
collector of more than Scouting's boys and showed it off whenever I
could. We were underway again and I drove slowly to make the moment
last. The boy was twelve or so; one of those kids that must have been used
for a model when that outfit was designed. What a beautiful combination of
legs and shorts. We were at his street: - Right here, no need to drive
down, its only a few houses.

Look, my name is Ian, when do you guys meet? I'm going to be in town for a
few weeks and I'd like to get to see ahh -- more of you. He told me the
location of his Scout Hall as he left and I made a note to get there
earlier next week.

The time moved faster now and on the weekend I made the long drive home to
fetch winter things I hadn't brought, skis, boots, crampons, tent... things
I didn't think I'd use alone. I dug up all I could that looked like it
would fit this boy I didn't know the name of.

On Wednesday I arrived at the meeting after it had started; my Scout friend
detached himself from a cluster of shorts and legs and hurried over.

- I remember your name is Ian but I want to introduce you proper like so
tell me more.

I did and as he took my hand to lead me through the group: - Oh ya, my
name's Elliot.

I taught the group a game, one of my favourites-it involved a lot of hands
on action-and chose Elliot as my partner and let him choose one more. The
game is one of balance, cooperation and, as I said, hands on. An excellent
get-acquainted game. Later, whilst the boys the boys were having cocoa, I
chatted with their Skipper who seemed a nice enough chap but was almost
resentful; as if I was invading his territory. I offered my assistance for
the next few weeks, especially on any outside activities, then left quickly
as the meeting ended. I wanted to catch Elliot before he got too close to
home.

Not to worry though, the kid was in the shadows by my van and didn't wait
to be invited in. He talked more this time on the way to his home:
thirteen, just moved here, transferred to this troop only a few weeks ago,
parents both work, no siblings, likes cycling and skating and... and why
not stop for tea this time and meet my folks, they should be home by now.

His folks were both hard working, long hours, trying to pay for a house too
big, two cars, and send the boy to a summer school he didn't really want to
attend. When I suggested I might like Elliot's company skiing, if we ever
got any snow, they were, all at once, questioning, annoyed, reticent,
approving and grateful! Charity was out of the question. I was not to spend
any money on their son. Who was I anyhow; and why their son; but if he
could go it would give them a day off... Elliot stood to one side making
facial expressions meant for my eyes only that were worthy of a
professional mime. No, no money to be spent, I have skis he can use but
other than that I'll expect him to pay his own way; if not your son then
some other; I'll be in town a few weeks teaching at the communications
school and I want someone to show me around. Well, we'll see, was the way
we left it. Elliot saw me to the door and mentioned that he walked the same
route home from school. As I left he squeezed my hand and winked his
sparkling eyes.

Friday we had the first big snow of the winter; school closed early and as
I drove through the deepening drifts I could tell the skiing would be great
tomorrow. I almost missed the boy standing in the snow; he didn't look the
same nor as attractive in a pair of snow caked jeans. Hi Elliot, I almost
didn't recognise you without your shorts.

- Awww, you just like my legs, that's all.

No, I'm sure I'll like the rest of you just as well. Listen. How 'bout we
go skiing tomorrow? There's plenty of hills right around here to get
started on; we can go right from your back door.

- Do you really have all I'll need?

Look here kid... I showed him in the back the skis and boots that I knew
would fit.

The next day was bright and clear and the skiing excellent. Elliot was a
quick and able student, working hard to please me, we both had a fun
time. Late in the day, back at his house, sitting by the fire with a mug of
cocoa, waiting for his folks to arrive home, he commented on how good it
felt to be so achy, muscles so tired they hurt, felt good to work hard,
last time was last summer's bike trip; one of the counselors had rubbed his
legs to work the kinks out. Could I do that for him? He was wearing gym
shorts and a jumper and when I turned him over his erection was plainly
evident but neither of us said anything.

His folks drove in just as I finished his thighs so we were back in the
chairs with our almost cold cocoa when they came in and invited me to stay
for dinner. The boy had relaxed somewhat by now but it was still a few
moments before he responded to his father's request for assistance with
groceries and firewood. The next couple of hours brought about a drastic
change in the weather as strong winds and more snow brought visibility to
near zero and temperatures below that!

Needless to say, I stayed the night. The guest room wasn't finished, his
dad said, so the lower bunk in Elliot's room would be my bed once the kid
cleaned it off. Its all set, El replied. His parents looked at each other,
surprised. On the way upstairs, the boy, walking in front, told how they'd
been trying to get him to clean up his room since before they moved: - Now
they'll think you're a good influence on me. Do you need any PJs or
anything? Maybe you can borrow my Dad's.

No thanks, El, I'm all set. I sleep in my skin, always got it with me. Say,
I'll bet that hard-on you had this afternoon was really cramped.

- Boy! I'll say; hey, will your rub my legs some more before we go to bed?

This time he took off his shorts and I worked on his legs and back for a
while. When he turned over his erection was holding up his jockey shorts
like a circus tent.

- Want me to rub your legs like that?

Sure, that would be great. I dropped my jeans and lay naked on his
rug.

- How come you don't wear any undershorts, he asked, as he set to
work. I haven't worn underwear since I was twelve, just something else to
wash, I hope you're not embarrassed.

- No, that's ok, just a little surprised I guess but not really.

He worked on my back and legs for a while, carefully avoiding any contact
with my buns until suddenly he stood and switched off the light and said: -
Ok, that's enough, I'm ready to sleep now.

I rolled over and sat up; in the dim glow from outside I could see his
erection still hard under his shorts. This kid was use to what he was doing
I thought, but confused, maybe a bit scared, best let it be. He climbed
into his bunk, whispered good night and was quiet. Maybe he really is just
tired. I stroked his face and kissed him goodnight, he didn't move.

Sunday we shoveled a lot of snow and before I left we talked of skiing
again soon. I left his skis so he could practice and told him that I might
see him again at his next meeting.

That Wednesday I was at school late and he was not to be seen along the
road.

Saturday we skied again around out back but this time his folks were home
and the weather was good so there was no invitation to stay over. The next
two weekends were the same.

The following Friday would be a school holiday so we made plans to go north
for a weekend in the mountains. The week passed slowly it seemed as I
gathered food and equipment. Elliot invited me to supper Thursday and to
stay over to meet again with his folks. They were planning a weekend away
too but would go south; fly even, for a quick weekend on a warm beach.

We all stayed up late that night swopping stories of various
adventures. Elliot was up early to see his folks off and I watched through
slitted lids as he explored himself before slipping into his jeans without
his underwear. I wondered what sort of surprise he had in store for me.

We were on the road by midday and drove until after dark before stopping
for supper in a small restaurant not far from where we were to camp for the
first night. Supper and the last few miles were full of chatter about what
we would do tomorrow. My plan was to sleep in the van that night and
tomorrow to ski and hike to a shelter up in the hills. If we have time and
good weather we'd go for the peak, then overnight in the shelter and down
and all the way back on Sunday. As I drove into the parking area at the
trailhead Elliot was in the back arranging things for the night. The van
was well insulated and, with heat and lights for this kind of camping, made
for a comfortable place; Elliot looked ready to take full advantage. He had
arranged our sleeping bags as a double and as I came back from the driving
compartment asked if he might rub my back and shoulders. I started to
undress and he matched me move for move. This was his surprise and I played
along: Where's your underwear El?

- If you don't need any, I don't need any.

Well, I thought, that's a step in the right direction. The gas lights were
down and the curtains drawn. In the dim glow his body looked late summer
bronze rather than mid-winter white. I laid down and he knelt beside me and
worked over my back. I was dimly aware of him moving about closing the
lights and crawling in beside me. I was on my back as he cuddled up close,
head on my shoulder, hand on my belly; I could feel his hard-on against my
thigh. This boy wanted something but he wasn't ready to take it nor talk
about it. I was thinking of ways to open the subject and fell asleep again.

Warm, wet, fingers milking lubricant from my prick, probing my
ass, pressure, thrusting, he is in. I'm awake again but trying
hard to fake sleep. Breath slow, relax, he's got me over on one side
and has entered my rear. I feel his arm around my waist, pulling, he
slips out, reenters, thrusting, hips rocking, thrusting
deeper. Is this an experiment? Has he done it before?

I remember once doing this same thing to a sleeping boy; it was a spur of
the moment thing. We were camping, sleeping nude together, I woke, we were
lying just so... Is that what was happening now? Did he plan it? His
excitement overrides his concern of waking me and I can tell when he comes;
my own hard-on aches with anticipation. He withdraws and pulls me over
slowly to my back. I feel his hand, milking, moving, back and
forth. Keep it down kid, I'm thinking, don't get cum all over the sleeping
bag. I explode all over my belly. He squeezes out the last of it and
spreads it around. We sleep.

In the morning we wake together. I am reminded of last night by the cum
sticking in my hair: Wow! he says, you must have had some dream last night
to've come like that.

Boy, I'll say, did you ever have a wet dream like that?

- Ya, once or twice, but not that much.

We wash and dress and the talk turns to our hike. Packing gear, breakfast,
waxing skis; finally a midmorning start on the trail. He skis well with a
pack. We are planning on making it to an open shelter near timber line on
the far side of the ridge. It will be a tough ski up but a great run out
tomorrow.

The frozen waterfalls are beautiful and I promise him a hike here in the
summer to shower under them. His eyes sparkle, then cloud and dim. We
hike. A few miles in, running out of snow, onto ledge and ice, we cache the
skis and continue on crampons. It is late afternoon when we cross the ridge
and near sunset when we arrive at the empty shelter. First order of
business is to dig in behind the snow drift and shape it into a wall to
keep out the wind. I expect the weather to be clear and calm, maybe even
warmer as the night goes on but I want to be comfortable and I don't want
supper too early. Elliot is concerned about the skis: what if someone
steals them: Not likely El, but if they do we'll walk.

- Thanks for bringing me here, its beautiful.

Save that, El, til we get back. The tough part is yet to come. Supper is
good; idle chatter about Scouts and family. After the meal is cleaned up
and snow melted for morning, we sit close with coffee: What are we gonna do
next, Ian, its gettin' kinda cold to just sit here.

Well, we can always go to bed and tell stories and play with each other. He
looks at me -- the sparkle has something fierce about it then dim again.

- Were you awake last night?

Yes, for a while.

- I'm sorry.

You've nothing to be sorry for Elliot, I did the same to another boy once.

- But...

We were good friends, went camping a lot.

- But...

It felt so good when we did it.

- But, I was trying to rape you! To hurt you! To get even somehow with the
guy who did it to me. Only he didn't do it cos we were friends or cos he
loved me.. He was using me for himself and trying to make it look like he
was punishing me.

Want to talk about it?

- We were camping, a whole bunch of us kids, in the Scout troop I was in
before we moved here. Some of us had been playing strip poker; we were
giggling and fooling around and then they all left. Me and my bunk mate
were jerking each other off when this big flashlight comes on in our
tent. It was one of the leaders but he was hardly much older than us. He
made a lot of noise in a real quiet, low voice about how bad we were. Told
us he would teach us a few things and if we said anything he'd let everyone
know we was queers and all that. First he tied our hands and feet and made
us suck each other. I'd never done that before and I remember being really
scared and really excited at the same time. While I was sucking Jacky,
that's my bunk mate, I was so hard it hurt. We didn't get to come. He only
made us do it a little bit. Then he put me on my back on my bunk and he put
Jacky across my belly. He gagged us with our scarves. Then he took off his
shorts and went into Jacky's ass. Like I said, I was scared and excited at
the same time; I could feel Jacky's hard-on on my belly. I heard him cry
when this guy cornholed him. Jacky came on my belly but the guy was just
warming up. He switched us around; it hurt like fire when he went into me
and I cried too. Then he just left us there; said again that if we told
he'd make us look like queers and left us still tied and still naked. After
a while we got loose and then we both got into my sleeping bag and cried to
each other for a while.

And you never told?

- No, but then we didn't stay either. Our Dad's worked for the same outfit
and both got transferred; he went one way and I went the other.

We went out together to piss in the snow and then got into our sleeping
bags.

- Ian, can we put the bags together like last night? Will you do it to me
like you did to that other boy?

I'll hurt you, you know it.

- No, it won't hurt. I want to feel what its like coming from someone who
loves me. Look I even brought the Vaseline.

Only if you tell me when it hurts.

- Ok, but you won't hurt me, I know it.

We lay together and I relaxed him with a rub and then explored his hole
with a finger. I rolled onto him and pushed in slowly. He winced and moaned
but backed up to me. The feeling was incredible; I'd sucked on boys before
and been sucked by many but this was only the second time I'd buggered
one. I was in all the way now; the boy was moaning beneath me, maybe even
weeping, but he was happy from the sound of it. I came in his ass and was
still squirting as I withdrew. The last of my cum went up his back and I
wiped his ass with my hand and mixed cum and Vaseline on his back as I
rolled him over and went down on his slim boy prick. He held my head and
worked his hips. His cum seemed to explode into my mouth and I fell asleep,
exhausted. Near dawn I woke, boy cum sticking my beard to his first few
pubic hairs, his limp prick at my lips. I took him in and felt him get hard
in my mouth. He slept on as I brought him off again and then woke as I
pulled myself free.

At first light we stood together outside the shelter, naked in the warm sun
and washed each other with handfuls of cold snow. What a rush!

The hike that day was super. Up to the top and down by ski; it all went by
so fast. We talked a lot on the drive home. My stay was drawing to a
close -- would I forget him when I left -- was he just another trick --
did this make him queer... I gave him one of my bookmarks; the one with the
face on the folded hands; it says: See, I will not forget you for I have
carved you on the palm of my hand.

We got back to his house in plenty of time to shower and clean up before
his folks arrived. In the shower we talked of how the American Indians had
a blood brother ceremony. As I washed him I spoke of how one-sided ass
fucking was. Maybe it feels good for the doer but it mostly hurts the
receiver. A blow job is much higher on my list; a much more profound
expression of feeling. Both partners participate in a more active way and
you willingly swallow your friend's cum. I got on my knees in front of him
and he pushed his hard-on into my mouth and pulled my head into his
crotch. I finger fucked his ass and he pulled my hair. When he came he gave
it all. I stood and kissed him and held him. He looked up:

- Can I do it to you, like that, huh, please? I have to in order to seal
the pact you know.

He knelt and held my cheeks and took me into his mouth.

				   -30-