Date: 9 May 2000 08:27:46 -0700
From: poondu@members.gayweb.com
Subject: A Budding Naturist

			    A Budding Naturist

		   by Thole <poondu@members.gayweb.com>

Now parked at a campground of mostly elderlies in the piny woods of
east Texas.

When I came in it was late o'clock last night and as I was driving
out of downtown south towards the camp a guy came on the radio: blah
blah blah listening, he said, the way too many do when they really
want to talk. It turned out to be kind of interesting. I don't
usually talk much to listeners, but this one? There was magic in the
air I guess.

It turned out he was at the camp I was headed for. He told me the
office was closed, it was dark already, but he could talk me in to my
site. It was darker yet by the time I arrived only a few minutes
later and the way in was rather convoluted. His directions were good
nearly up to the end and then he said --no, stop right there and I'll
get in my car and show you the way, that will be easier. Moments
later we had the bus parked on a level sward, the tender unhooked,
and we were shaking hands outside the front door. He poked at the
bare buns clothing optional sign and asked if I were a nudist.

I prefer naturist if there has to be any label at all, I said, and he
asked what I thought was the difference. Our conversation went on
through a cup of tea as he told me how he had spent most of his
childhood and was trying to raise his son the same way in spite of
the objections of his wife who won't have anything to do with nudity.
I talked about some of the same things, the two national groups--one
seems to be an organisation, the other a movement--and what I thought
about the two philosophies...

We talked about what was nearby; this campground is not nude for
sure. He told me about a place fifteen miles away that he frequents,
had been there earlier in the day, and suggested we could go there in
the morning. I had vehicle maintanance to do in the morning so I said
we could go after lunch. Cool.

But in the morning he had complications. His wife had to be taken to
the doctor and then there was shopping he thought he mightn't have to
be involved with, but his son, fourteen year old home schooler, knew
the way to this forest trail and would be more than happy to be my
guide.

The boy was a sight for sore eyes. Slight of build, flaming red hair,
wearing shorts that left little to my imagination, shorts of the sort
every boy should wear. He was barefoot, and bare chested as well when
he came by the bus at the appointed time. I wasn't yet ready, my
projects had taken longer than expected, so I invited him in whilst I
cleaned up and had a sandwich. I thought that it was rather neat that
his father trusted me on first sight and wondered if it was the club
affiliation, the ham radio, the things we had in common about our
pasts. The boy said it wasn't so much trusting me, that mainly that
his dad trusted him to take care of himself.

We got into the little truck, him with no shirt, me with no shorts,
both with no sandals and sped off. Along the road we talked about
what's it like at a nudist place and all the worries a young boy has.

--What if my penis is too big or to small? --Are all the men
circumcised or not? --Are there really coed bathrooms and showers?
--What happens if you get an erection with all those people around? -
-What if you have to scratch your balls, is that ok?

He'd never been to a camp, just read about them, and only gone places with his dad,
never anyone else.

When we arrived at the trailhead I found it to be along the outside
of a wide curve of a little used county road. The nearest house was a
hundred yards behind us on the other side of the street, hidden by
trees. I parked with my side of the truck to the trail so I could
step out, doff my shirt and slip into the forest. The boy was
impatiently waiting under the first trees whilst I waited for one car
to pass by and then I took off my shirt, picked up my pareu, and
locked the door.

--Didn't you have any shorts on the whole time you were driving? he
asked.

--Didn't you have any shirt on? I replied. No shorts for me, no shirt
for you, that's even don't you think?

--But that's different, he said. And then --wait a minute, if you can
do this so can I! and he quickly stepped out of his shorts and made
as if to throw them to me.

--No - no, I said, if you want to play this game you have to start
nude at the truck and finish there too. So he came back the few steps
to the truck and tossed his shorts in and then we both beat a hasty
retreat to the forest as another car came into view around the
distant curve.

The trail was wide enough to walk abreast with only occasional
touching shoulders. He was about my height, a little shorter, and he
sort of bounced when he walked. Once upon a long ago I knew another
red-headed lad who walked like that, but I never saw him nude. This
boy was a creamy white, not pale, freckled, with a golden aura of
nascent hair just waiting for the rush of puberty to catch him up.
Around the base of his cock was a thin crescent of red-gold.

A soon as we were out of sight of the road I looked him up and down
when we stopped at the first of the little bridges along the trail.

He looked at me too.

--I think you're the first naked man I've ever seen, he said, except
for my dad; but I guess you've seen lots of naked kids. How do I
compare? Is my dick too small?

--Too small for what? Can you get your fist around it? You're
perfect. Its more important that you're not overweight than whether
your dick is too short or to thick. It really doesn't matter how big
it is but what all you can do with it. Besides, small is better; your
less likely to gag your friend.

We walked along some more. The trail was covered with leaves and
needles. Small yellow flowers were dropping off some of the trees and
there were beech nuts in profusion but none were edible, they were
all from last fall, mostly just the husks. When I had asked him
earlier if he could "get his fist around it" his hand moved,
involuntarily perhaps, and his cheeks--of his face--showed a bit of
colour. Now as he walked at my side he asked --What should I do if I
get an erection now? Will you be upset if I do?

--Will you be embarrassed if I get one now? I replied. Erections are
perfectly ok. Boys get them all the time and anyone who knows boys
and appreciates them for what they are does not mind. It is a joy to
watch a boy with an erection just as it is a joy to watch a boy dive
from a high board or fly a kite or wrestle another boy. That will
usually give them both erections.

I glanced over at him and he was sticking straight out. He stopped
and turned away, his neck getting red, but then he turned back when I
touched his shoulder.

--You've nothing to be ashamed of. You're very handsome, very
beautiful, like an Adonis, or a Ganymede.

--You're right, he said. Its only just started to bother me this way,
it never use to.

--Well, that's just another part of maturing. Part of it is your
mother's influence, I'm sure, maybe part of it is built in. Lots of
naturists debate that: whether shame is innate or learn'd.

By now his penis was pointed up at the sky and his foreskin had
retracted. Needless to say I was getting hard as well and I had all I
could do not to fall on my knees to worship this fountain of youth
when a drop of the elixer of life oozed to the top of his glans and
sparkled like a diamond in the sun.

I turned to walk, to follow my penis wherever it led me.

--Do you masturbate, he asked? And our conversation went on around
that point and all it evolves into as we crossed several more bridges
and went deeper into the forest. The trail makes a big loop,
following the bend in the river, crossing brooks and washes,
eventually it would end up back near the entrance. At some point he
stopped and indicated a spot in the river where he said he and his
dad often swam. The water was too cold for me but the boy jumped
right in. That will take care of his erection I thought. When he came
out a few minutes later he was quite shrunken and we went to a
clearing to lay on the leaves in the sun.

I spread my self out, on my back, to nap, to dream. He lay beside me,
at first on his side, head held up on one bent arm, as he talked and
asked more questions. I drifted away, my luncheon chablis taking rein
of my senses, and I heard the leaves rustle as he moved.

My dreams were just as I wanted them to be and when I woke he was
kneeling between my legs watching intently the last spasms of my
orgasm.

--Wow, he said, that was cool. I never saw anyone else do that. Were
you dreaming? What about?

--I was dreaming about you, I said.

--Me? Why me?

--Cos I was wondering what it would be like to watch you do it.

I spoke a remembered fragment of a poem--

		Nothing but your beauty can help me now.


		Once, of a sunny morning I remember
 		When my soul heard some thing
		from your soul, I drank the crystal fluid
 		from your spring and felt
		the current take me.

This comely lad slowly stroked the erection that pointed to the sky
from between his perfect legs. His voice was was almost a whisper:

--Does that mean you want to suck me?

He stood quickly as I nodded and I feared the worst.

--My dad said you might. He said if I thought I was ready, it was up
to me. I've always wondered what it would be like... Get on your
knees.

His body was dappled, light and shadow, for a moment like an albino
leopard, everything was black or white, to be or not to be, how could
I not. I kissed his feet and brought my hands up around his thighs as
my tongue lifted his scrotum. I nibbled and teased and licked my way
higher and he moaned softly as his hands enfolded my head and impaled
my mouth on his youthful fountain. He was quick, too quick, but boys
who are quick are sweet and also quick to recover, a Ganymede wanting
to be taken.

He moaned and shuddered as orgasm after orgasm wracked his frame;
again and again his fountain gushed the elixer of life until his legs
would no longer support him and his brain jellied with ecstacy. He
collapsed into my embrace, still erect but begging me to stop.
Gradually his penis subsided and for a moment he seemed to relax
completely, even sleep, but then when I kissed him he woke, smiled,
and sat up.

--I want to do that to you, he said, I need to do it, to drink from
your fountain of knowledge, to know what it is like.


                             -30-