Date: Wed, 6 Aug 2008 14:59:37 -0700 From: Jay roberts Subject: "The Young Ape-man, Part One" by Jay Roberts Gay Historical ++++I guess you younger kids like going to the zoo, but that's not what this story is about. No, it's a nasty story for older kids of 18 or more. So, if you under 18 year-olds would kindly leave, we can proceed. September 15, 1919 was the greatest day in my life, up to then. This was the day that Uncle Henry asked my father if I could join him on his safari to Africa. It was to begin as soon as we were fully outfitted. I overheard my father saying to Hank (Uncle Henry) that, "It would be a good thing for the boy; make a man out of him. Jamie is too interested in girlish things for my taste." Of course, I, Jamie, was not interested in baseball or guns or chasing girls. At sixteen I was a good fisherman, I could carve wood, and I was able to sew a button on. Does that make me queer? Uncle Henry and I were good friends. Henry was also not the usual run of adult relative. By the age he was now, forty, he had knocked around the world and he hinted to me one day, while we waited for the fish to bite, that he had some pretty exotic adventures. What they were, he never revealed until that night in Equatorial Africa, but that will have to wait until later. My father kicked in lots of money that was required to outfit us for the trip. There was boat passage, hiring of porters, once we got to Africa, tents, guns, food and clothing. The group consisted only of Uncle Henry and me, plus the planned porters. Uncle Henry thought that six porters would be sufficient. I tried on my "African Outfit" at home in my room. I looked really keen. The white linen jodhpurs, brown leather boots, a shirt jacket with twelve, (count them) pockets and a pith helmet, I looked like Frank Buck or a movie star. I liked the way the linen pants outlined my prominent cock bulge. I had the family cock, no doubt. I gestured with the rifle, but I had never shot one. It was just a prop now. The boat to Cairo was a small Cunard Line freighter that carried a few passengers. It left from a pier in New York City. It was a long cruise, thirteen days, since this was not a powerful ship. The only passengers on board were some Dutch businessmen, who spoke no English, and Henry and I of course. At Cairo we boarded a riverboat on the Nile and headed south. It was sweltering on the boat and most of the male passengers went shirtless. My eyes were filled with some memorable male chests that I could cull up at night in my bunk to accompany my masturbation. We off loaded all our equipment at a small coastal village. Uncle had no trouble hiring stalwart fellows as porters. Most were young, about my age, but they were really strong. Their muscles stood out as they shouldered the heavy loads. Once they broke a sweat, their bodies gleamed. One young guy caught me staring at him and he winked at me. I had thought that our trek would be in the jungle, but my Uncle explained that the first leg would be through villages, then across grasslands, and then finally into dense jungle. The first night, under uncle's direction, the tent was set up. That was for us. There was a second tent for cooking, and dinning. Once the camp was set up, and it only took about an hour, we called upon one of the porters who claimed to be a cook. It turned out he was excellent. Some of the other porters made fun of the guy, Jonto and said he was a wife/man. The meaning was pretty clear to us. Hank, as I called him here in Nairobi, and I sat on folding camp chairs. We smoked pipes and for the first time he revealed his objective for this African adventure. "I hope to become rich. You too. There is an old legend that elephants go to a special place to die. It has been generally disproved, but I believe from my former investigations in African, that it is true. As you know, ivory is used for hundreds of objects, not only knife handles. It is priceless and sells for s king's ransom. We are going to find that repository." As I was digesting that, he then told me an even more fantastical purpose of the trip. He told me about the young ape-man that had been seen by natives many times. "The stories say that he speaks English. I take him to be about twenty years old. He is as skilled in many animal-like abilities. The theory is that he was lost, as a baby, from a safari of noble Englishmen twenty years ago." This had been a big day. Even though I hung on every word, fatigue was forcing my head down to my chest and several times I heard my own snores, though I roused myself quickly. Hank put his strong arm around me and guided me to my cot, setup the netting and patted my back companionably. In an instant I was deeply asleep dreaming of a naked, muscular, but cute, ape-man who swung out of the trees and stood before me. Just as he gathered me into his arms I felt a familiar feeling of my penis pumping out a nocturnal emission. It was only a wet dream. I was sure the Tarzan legend was okay for fiction, not real life. The next morning I awoke midst activity in our campsite. The porters were packing up for a continuation of our journey. Hank had asked them to leave the large tent in which we slept, for the last, so as to let me sleep. I jumped up and got washed using the canvas water pot. They had saved a little breakfast for me and I gobbled it up and was soon ready to join the impatient group. Today we entered the jungle and left the grassy plain area. Before we did, we sighted several lion families and other beasts that looked at us curiously but made no threats. Hank said, "We are not great white hunters like Roosevelt and the rest. We shall kill no animal unless it threatens our life. Our objective here is clear." Deep in the jungle, after four hours of difficulty making progress through the heavy brush, we encountered a clearing and we stopped to rest. One of the men, who we designated as our machete sharpener, got to work honing these knives that had dulled by constant use on vines and small trees to forge a path for us. Jonto, our excellent cook, prepared a small cold meal and hot coffee. As I drowsed, leaning against a tree, Hank studied the perimeter of this clearing. I heard him call to me, "This is just the sort of configuration that elephants might go to die. Perhaps a nearby cave might be the one that contains the ivory." As I napped, the men lay nearby, napping as well. I was surprised to see, just before I fell asleep, that they were quite loving with each other. This was in marked contrast to male relationships in the US. I even saw one muscular lad reach into his companion's breechcloth and gasp his rampant organ and slowly stroke it. The so attended lad closed his eyes and seem to luxuriate in the attention. My own prick rose painfully and hard and I found myself wishing that I was the one receiving this treatment. Under the circumstances of this adventure, I was never alone to attend to my pressing needs to ejaculate at least once a day. Again, I was the laggard of the group. All was ready to proceed and they waited for me to wake up. As I joined them, the men sang strange rhythmic songs to give them a cadence for walking with their loads. I found it helped me too and I grew to love these songs. They stayed with me all my life and I could replicate them with my Western voice. Soon night fell rapidly and again the tents were set up, dinner eaten, and to our cots early. About two in the morning, seen on the radium dial of my pocket watch, I heard some unfamiliar animal signs. I slipped on my pants and bare-chested, carrying a rifle and electric torch I left our tent and entered the velvety African night. Ahead of me, as I entered the tree cover, another small clearing presented itself. Now the sounds that had awakened me were louder and just ahead. How can I describe them? Small animal mutterings like my vocal pug made when eating his favorite food came to mind. There was a full bright moon that lit the area almost as much as a cloudy day. There in front of me I saw our cook, recognizable from his red shirt he always worn, kneeling down before the most magnificent creature I had every seen. He was young, with glowing skin, his body sculpture was heroic. But it was his face and hair that was so beautiful, as to be otherworldly. His head was crowned with a large profusion of pale blond tight curls. Below that, his noble forehead, classic nose and full ripe lips ended in a dimpled chin. At this moment, his large blue eyes opened and he stared at me and winked one eye. He seemed perfectly content, not embarrassed one bit by being discovered with his erect penis being sucked by another man. As for Jonto, he was moaning loudly around the shaft he was pleasuring. My own penis erected as if by hydraulics. I gasped as my passion hit me. I felt pre cum oozing into my pants. A moment later, the young Hercules shoved Jonto on his shoulder. The boy fell backwards. His eyes were wide with shock. Then he saw me and smiled. "Ape-boy wants you I think." I stood routed to the spot. The naked creature loped toward me with a grace that only years in the jungle could engender. He stood before me, his chest only a few inches away. His smell reminded me of my dog when he hadn't been bathed for a long time and was wet from the rain. It was an intoxicated smell. It made my head reel. I swayed toward him. He put his heavily muscled arms around me and press his full lips against mine. It produced such a profound effect that I sagged against him. We parted and he exerted pressure on my shoulders. His intent was clear. He had chosen me to resume his stimulation, now I was chosen to be the one to receive his seminal offering. On my knees, his thick cock loomed in front of me. He pressed the back of my head and inexorably my dripping mouth was drawn toward his prick. Just then I heard my name being called. It was my Uncle, looking for me. His voice sounded alarmed. The Ape-man recoiled at the sound and slowly backed off. In a moment only his shapely arse could be seen, disappearing into the jungle cover. Jonto laughed at me. My superior position as a white man was totally compromised. He would never kowtow to me. My erection has vanished. I turned and called out to Hank, who seemed very relieved to see me. I told him about seeing the white ape. I think he believed that I had walked in my sleep and it was only a dream. End of Part One. (I am not an expert on African topography and animal population, so please forgive me misstatements, if any. My main purpose it to tell a story and perhaps excite you. The second chapter will be more sexually realized. )