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    POTTERY-SHARDS-9 (Raw, Unfinished...)     "At The Gathering"
    {Part #9 of 9}                            Copyright 1997 by Vince Water
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                              "At The Gathering"

       The water ran cold over Crying Bird's hands. He cupped them to take
    another drink. Father Sun was high above and reached down with His
    heated hand over the youth's sweaty body. His throat burned from the
    dust brought up by the stomping horses. The spring's cool water
    provided him some relief.

       A man spied on the Indian boy. He also thirsted but decided to study
    the youth before joining him at the spring. He noticed the boy's head
    feather and knew him to be Crow. Only a simple breechclout was worn over
    his slim body. Much skin showed. The summer sun had browned the boy all
    over. An attractive quality in a savage, the white man thought. A pleasant
    tingling filled his loins from looking over the boy's near nakedness.

       Paul Carlton had a fancy for boys. He enjoyed instructing youths on
    the pleasures that came from an erecting penis and what could be done
    with it. His last companionship had come from a youth of thirteen named
    Benjamin. Their travels together had brought them many sexual adventures.
    A strong love had grown between the man and a young boy.

       There had been other youths before Benjamin. Many treasured moments
    of enjoying what a boy had to offer him. Paul's favored approach was
    the 'show me yours' game. He used the natural curiosity a boy has mixed
    with fun to get him to do naughty things. Paul showed off his long hairy
    dick in trade for a peek at the boy's pole. That accomplishment enabled
    him to excite his new friend and offer the boy sexual instruction.

       The man was also daring to reach into a boy's pants to capture his
    erection. When a boy's in need, Paul found it easy to offer him
    pleasurable relief. Sometimes, he even managed to suck out sweet seed.
    Younger boys were more willing to try naughty games and wouldn't think
    twice about skinny dipping with a man or its lusty consequences.

       Paul smiled from his brief flashes of sweet memories. Young boys
    were easy to touch but it took an older boy like Benjamin to truly
    satisfy the needs of a grown man. The Indian youth at the spring
    looked to be in his early teens. The same age as Benjamin. Much more
    wild though.

       Those were interesting differences, Paul thought. The Crow boy was
    darkly tanned; his body strong from hardship and well muscled. He only
    needed a few more summers of growth before becoming a man. Long black
    hair fell down the boy's back almost reaching to his butt. Another
    quality of a savage that the white man admired. It whispered to him a
    sense of cross-genderness.

       A chill went down Crying Bird's spine. He noticed the man's eyes on
    him. It made him cautious. He lingered at the spring to study the white
    man's intent. There wasn't any fear in him; the peace was being kept
    between their two Peoples and it was rarely broken at the Gathering. A
    flint knife tucked in his thong belt also gave him some assurance.

       Crying Bird's was alone and without his horse though. His companions
    were back at the Gathering. A long run for him if he had to take flight
    from this white man. The boy wondered why he had come to this spring.
    Not many people knew about it.

       It occured to Crying Bird that the white man simply waited his turn
    to drink. Someone most have told him about the wonderous water that
    bubbled up from the rocks. The Indian boy stood up to signal that he
    was finished. It surprised him when the man stood his ground and didn't
    approach. The youth wondered what was going on.

       Paul came to his senses. He lowered his hungry eyes from the Indian
    boy and stepped up to the spring. Water sprang from a fissure in the
    broken stones. The man remembered his thirst and knelt at the spring to
    drink while the Indian youth stood over him. It was an uneasy moment.

       Crying Bird felt a chill go down his spine. He had seen where the
    white man's eyes had looked on him. Was he interested in such things,
    the boy wondered? A few unmarried warriors in his tribe enjoyed the
    pleasurable joining of their bodies to satisfy male lust. The Indian
    boy had never been with a white man before.

       To test the man's interest, Crying Bird flapped the cloths to his
    breechclout as if drying the sweat from his body. The sound attracted
    the white man. A shock of blue came from his staring eyes. The Indian
    boy was amazed by their sky color.

       A tense moment passed during their eye touching. The white man
    tried to read the boy's behavior from his narrowing dark eyes. Was the
    youth only being playful, the man wondered? He remained puzzled.
    Indians were rare to show emotion, he knew, especially in front of a
    stranger. He continued to watch the boy's flapping. It provided him
    brief naked views.

       Paul saw that the boy's penis was brown and slightly erected. There
    was a thick skin around it that kept its tip within. Dark hair grew
    from his groin. The man sensed that this youth knew what to do with
    his sex.

       When the Indian boy turned, Paul peeked through his flapping rear
    cloth for his butt. It was nicely rounded and of a lighter color than
    his tanned body. The man lusted for it. He wondered if the boy had
    ever had his butthole stuck into.

       An awkward silence grew between them. Paul came upon a bold idea to
    break the tension. He filled his cupped hands with water and stood up.
    The Indian youth stood nearly to his chin. He was still flapping the
    cloths over his sweaty body when the man attacked.

       Water struck the youth's chest and ran down his heated body to his
    feet. Crying Bird was startled by the act and poised himself to respond
    in a severe fashion. He saw no malice in the man's bright blue eyes.
    The Indian boy's fierce expression turned to a grin.

       Paul chuckled. The Indian boy spoke words that he didn't understand,
    but from hand gesturing, he took the meaning that more water was
    welcomed to be splashed over him. The man quickly fetched some from
    the spring.

       Crying Bird was amused by the white man's game. He enjoyed the
    water's cooling affect over his body. An idea came to him. He pulled
    the rear cloth from his belt and soaked it in the small spring. It
    didn't surprise him to see the white man looking over his uncovered
    rear end. A lusting Crow warrior would be quick to take its meaning. He
    wondered if the white man going to stick into him.

       A strong hand cupped one of the boy's cheeks. It sent a lightning
    bolt sensation into his butthole. His penis erected. The white man
    caressed his bottom. His soft moan came in response to it.

       Crying Bird turned slightly to face the man. He saw the bulge in his
    pants and went for it. His fingers traced out the curved length trapped
    within. The man's eyes shined with excitement.

       Crying Bird fingered the pants buttons. He pulled one away and
    tasked himself to loosening all the others. The white man allowed it.
    There was a knowing expression on his face. It excited the Indian boy
    to see that his new companion wanted sex with him.

    ...

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         {end of file: POTTERY-SHARDS-9     There are no more stories!}