Copyright 2012 by Carl Mason

All rights reserved. Other than downloading one copy for strictly personal enjoyment, no part of this story may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, except for reviews, without the written permission of the author. However based on real events and places, “Perilous Journey” is strictly fictional. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. As in real life, however, the sexual themes unfold gradually.

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[Author's Note: Thanks for joining me on another adventure! I look forward to hearing from you and comparing thoughts. And, say, where would we be without Nifty...especially when the times are rough and the crazies are out in full force? Will you join me in making even a small financial contribution to the Archive in order to keep this site free and, as it has always been, an important part of our lives? Thanks again, friend!]

This story contains descriptions of sexual contact between males, both adults and teenagers. As such, it is homoerotic fiction designed for the personal enjoyment of legal, mature, adults. If you are not of legal age to read such material, if those in power and/or those whom you trust treat it as illegal, or if it would create unresolvable moral dilemmas in your life, please leave. Finally, please respect yourself and those around you by practicing safe sex.


(Revisiting Chapter 13)

Hunter grinned to himself. Rather than on Scott (who was in great shape for his stage of life), the truth was that his eyes had been on Robbie from the time of their meeting in Ithaca! As a gymnast, he admired the care that his new friend took in grooming his body. Personally, he kept a little more body hair...but Hey! Whatever floats your canoe! (Pause...) And those legs? 'Wow!' Hunter could imagine running his hands over those classic quads...letting his fingers explore the velvet interior flesh that cushioned a long, soft nutsack, a dramatically long, thick cock, and two balls that had to carry the daddy of all loads!


(Continuing Our Story: At the End of the Rainbow)

Since he'd been a little tyke, Scottie had begun each day with an early morning run with his dad. The weather didn't matter much. They had run in the Adirondack's early fall snowstorms as well as in heavy rain. Truth was he had probably learned more about becoming a "true human being" through those contacts than any other single activity. He remembered, for instance, telling his father when he was still thirteen that he was scared he was gay...and worrying that the great man would despise him. He almost fainted when his father had whirled and swept the long-legged colt onto his back as if he were only seven or eight years old. He couldn't help but giggle when he remembered his dad moving a few feet into the lake...and dumping him in. Damn! He still remembered how cold the water was...and how warm his father's arms had been as he hugged him tightly and told him that everything was ok. Being able simply to be here this morning...with Robbie...was a wondrous gift. Stifling a sob that welled up from deep in his throat and breathing deep as he set his jaw, he vowed to try to do at least half as well by the guys who had just entered his life as his father had done by him.

Robbie soon had to leave to handle his duties back at the Lodge. The cries of the loons, obscured by the light fog that still lay on the lake, soothed Scott's soul as they had for years past. Suddenly, he ran out of sand, quickly coming to a halt on the rocky shore. Behind him in the fog, he heard someone calling his name and moving towards him. Only a moment passed before he was able to discern that it was Grant Tyson. "Hey, boss!" the youngster panted as he caught up and spontaneously flung an arm around Scott's waist. "Man, am I glad that the sand wasn't all trampled! I was still able to follow your footprints. Otherwise, I might have run into a bear...or an angry chipmunk!" Scottie chuckled and pulled him close with a muscled upper arm. (It was at that moment it hit him that Grant was as naked as he!) "Going to join me?" he asked...without additional comment. "Yep," Grant responded. "And I promise that I'll get up earlier tomorrow."

After ten minutes of trying to jog on a rocky shore, Scottie realized that the sturdy seventeen year-old could probably stand a short break. As they settled down on a rock outcropping, the fog suddenly lifted, revealing a moose some distance away in the lake. Standing in water close to the shore, the enormous beast was engaged in some hard "pawing" of the lake bottom. "That's funny," Grant murmured. "Back home they only eat water plants from mid summer on when the vegetation is full grown." "I think you're right," the elder Thayer replied. "My best guess is that the water is pretty shallow over there. Maybe he's found some bulbs that he thinks he can dislodge." As they watched, Scottie rubbed along the boy's spine, producing purring that would have put a catamount to shame! Resting his chin on upraised knees, Grant swallowed loudly before asking Scottie if he could tell him something about which he was really ashamed. Playing for a few seconds of time, Scott twisted a curl on the back of the lad's neck before calmly inviting him to continue. "Boss, I was the one who let loose that wolf whistle last night at supper." Almost in alarm as if he expected the worst, Grant jumped up and stood facing the man for whom he increasingly felt respect...and affection. "Boss! I am so damned terribly ashamed. Please believe that I intended nothing bad. It's just that I've never seen anything GREAT as you looked when you were standing there. I, I look like you, to BE like you." Hanging his head and blushing deeply, he seemed ready to say something more, but stopped short. "Hell, boss, I'm sorry. Please forgive me."

The claim that raising a daughter is "obviously" more difficult than raising a son is fairly common. Thinking that those who make this claim are not only overgeneralizing, but have probably never had a late adolescent son, Scottie slowly rose to his feet. ('They look full grown' he thought; 'they constantly yowl for increasing independence. For the father to simply throw up his arms and simply retreat from his son, however, is to miss some of the richest bonding and educational moments in their lives. These moments between a young adult and a concerned, involved older adult are ones that can have a vital part in fashioning a very special lifelong bond, let alone a "true human being".) Standing directly in front of the teen, he smiled softly as he mimed a heavy blow to the teen's bicep. Placing his hands on the lad's sturdy shoulders, he grinned and growled, "Hey, Grant, we're friends, aren't we? Do good friends carry grudges?" The sturdy youth's breath - and his tension - escaped from tortured lungs as if a balloon had been punctured!

"Hey, there's the bell," Scott yelled. "I'm ready for breakfast! How about you?" "Yeah!" Grant yelled, taking off like a shot. "Come on, old man, move it!" he yelled. On the way into the Dining Hall, parenthetically, the "old man" passed a typically grungy Johnny Preston. The youngster sat on the sand, seemingly drinking in the glories of early morning in the High Peaks. "Hey, John-boy, the boss laughed, "When I was straightening out my stuff last night, I came across an extra tube of a special shampoo. Can only get it when I go into New York City... I have to tell you that it has a magical effect on people, especially women, as well as guys who might make good friends. Draws them in from everywhere! It's yours if you want it. Interested?" The ever loquacious Preston shyly murmured, "Yeah." "Ok, friend!" Scottie responded. When you have a free moment, check with me, ok?" "Thanks...boss," the gangly, fully clad fifteen year old answered before roaring up the stairs into the Dining Hall.

The atmosphere around the table at breakfast was as cheerful as last night's had been tense. With two exceptions, the lads appeared au naturel. Knowing teens, he suspected that part of the reason lay in their having found last night's events somewhat punishing (or at least uncomfortable)...especially after his having made quite a point that clothing was optional. Hence, he had spoken with Hunter and asked him to appear clothed! (On the other hand, it appeared that Johnny Preston was terrified by anything that left him less than totally clothed. He guessed that dropping his shorts, let alone taking his shirt off, was simply anathema!) The joking and horseplay among the group seemed to suggest that any earlier discomfort had been pretty well exorcised. Indeed, it seemed to carry over to the group meeting where several subjects were discussed, including (1) co-existing with the animal life in the Park (from the occasional bear or an animal that seemed to be sick or hurt as it lay on the angry chipmunks, as well as those creatures that seemingly offered little danger and whose life needed to be respected; (2) the need for sharing necessary tasks such as those involved in cooking, cleaning, and protecting the group against a "Cranberry Lake incident" - or their own inexperience; and (3) some frank talk about why they were at the Camp and what might lie ahead. When discussion finally flagged, he announced that Mr. Hampton was over at the dock and was presently waiting to show anyone interested how to handle the motorboat and the canoes. The room emptied before he could draw his next breath! For his part, Scott headed upstairs to the sack and a badly needed nap!

Sorely needing some "downtime" himself, Rob ambled down the beach until he reached a mound of sand, a mound that was somewhat protected by tall beach grasses. Stretching out on matted grass, he prepared to take a little sun and the briefest of catnaps. Though already sliding into the arms of Morpheus, he sensed that someone had approached and was standing beside him. Groggily, he half turned and looked up. He couldn't see much other than the shape of a muscular figure silhouetted against a bright sun. Multicolor flashes of light seemed to flicker around the edges of the spectral figure. Slowly coming to, Rob finally saw that it was Hunter Collins. Man, those gymnasts! The near unbelievable torso, the heavily muscled arms and shoulders, the package that while not hard seemed to loom above him, the legs whose muscles seemed adequate to propelling him over tall buildings in a single bound, muscles that cried out to be stroked... MAN! Momentarily, he shuddered as he remembered a story that his dad had told him...a long story about a gymnast at college. A good friend, Harley, had been selected for the USA summer Olympics team. Wow! What a great kid... What joy...what excitement...when he was notified! Needless to say, Scott was referring to more than the Olympics - as the rest of the story detailed!

Hunter's quiet voice, low and inviting, broke through his reverie. "Do you know how tired you are, Robbie? ...the pace that you're maintaining? Let me show you how grateful I am for all you have done. Relax... I'll keep one eye on the guys." Seeing his prey's slight nod, he dropped down beside him on his knees, placing a small bottle of oil on the grass. For well over 45 minutes, every muscle on Rob's reverse side was pummeled and stretched until they surrendered the tension that had gripped them. Through all this, the young jock retreated into a semi-consciousness. Only when Hunter vigorously kneaded his buttocks and then began to rim his now relaxed anus did the mental fog momentarily depart. "Oh, Hunter...Hunter..." Robbie moaned. "Come on, friend, let me help you turn over," the youngster responded. As if his subject were a young child, he gently assisted the muscular twenty year-old to turn onto his back. For just a moment, Robbie could see the sun dimly above him. When he felt Hunter's lips rest upon his and his tongue demand entrance, however, his mind...and his body...surrendered. Quickly he returned to his trancelike state. The better part of another hour passed before anything impinged on the sheer bliss in which Rob was suspended. Eventually, Hunter could no longer resist the shining pillar that slowly pulsed above his friend's body. In truth, he had never seen a piece of human flesh that so attracted him. At first he only licked at the great drops of precum that appeared at its apex and slowly ran down the enormous shaft. Then Rob's entire body shuddered as his friend's mouth encompassed the immense rose-colored glans, pushing the foreskin back over the ridge. Without pausing, he swallowed the shaft, finally guiding the full nine inches down into his throat. All the while, he continued sucking, tonguing, and allowing his throat muscles to produce sensations that Rob had never imagined possible. When the two young men simultaneously orgasmed, there was no question about the younger Thayer's having "returned to Earth". Indeed, they lay side by side for some time, kissing and letting their hands and soft cries express their affection.

Scott's #2 was slowly returning to sleep when Hunter turned towards him and gently shook a muscular shoulder. "Hey, boss, I think the boys have pretty wound least for the afternoon. I'd best be getting down there and setting out some snacks that I prepared at lunchtime. My younger brother actually volunteered to help, by the way." With a wide grin, he added, "No use encouraging their gnawing on each other!" And he was gone...

As a freshly-awakened elder Thayer opened his door after throwing himself back together, he encountered Johnny Preston. Uncomfortably, the teen enquired about the earlier shampoo offer. "Still open, sir?" he asked. "Sure is," Scott said happily. (To be completely truthful, he really felt guilty about immediately blaming Johnny for last night's wolf whistle.) "Hey, Big Guy, have you grabbed a shower yet? It won't be too long until supper." "Not yet, boss," Johnny answered shyly. Looking down the hall, Thayer continued, "Well, hey, man, it looks to me as if the showers are pretty busy. I have a shower off my room. Want to join me and I'll wash your hair?" The boy stared at his bare feet for a moment before looking up and almost whispering, "Ok, sir." Clearly, he was terrified...and tempted...and then terrified some more The reason became somewhat more...obvious when he stripped down. That fifteen year old had a penis that, while extremely narrow and somewhat flat, had to measure well over ten inches flaccid! God only knows how much crap he had taken in locker rooms!

After receiving a super wash and a tube containing the remainder of the shampoo, Johnny left with happy smiles and repeated thanks. When Scott and Robbie stopped by the Games Room on their way to supper, by the way, the boss was heard to mumble, "Glory of glories!" The notoriously uncomfortable, taciturn Johnny was giving the popular Ross Collins all he could handle in a vigorous game of ping-pong. Others were looking on - and there were just as many shouts for Johnny as for Hunter's younger brother. After supper, the lanky one sided up to the boss and whispered, "I really didn't believe there was anything 'special' about that shampoo when you mentioned it, boss, but it looks like the damned stuff works!"

(To Be Continued)