Our hope is that every homosexual youth in this country can find a home
and someone to love them as they are. Does your mother know you're reading this shit?
Warning: This story is PORNO. I have tried my hand at friction, now I'm trying fiction. This story contains vivid descriptions of sexual activity between men and teen boys. If you are underage, or if this is illegal where you are, then please go away. If you're under 18, Adios come back when it is legal for you to read this smut. A strongly worded suggestion has resulted in this statement. Thus said, this story is copyrighted, ©2007, 2011 It is therefore illegal to copy or use any part of this story on any other web site without my written permission. As they continued their walk they were scouting for hunting areas. Not knowing the surroundings, they sure didn't want to shoot into anyone's home. As they rounded a boulder the size of a house they came face to face with a dirty, grungy looking old man. His beard was matted and unwashed. A dark stain was on his lips and in the hair around his mouth. His beard reached well down onto his chest. His teeth were brown and a few appeared to be rotten. His hair was a tangle hanging past his shoulders. His clothes were unwashed as well and had a heavy urine odor. The old man's boots were well worn and patched with what appeared to be tanned hides. He carried an old Army Carbine in his left hand, it's stock worn with age., but the barrel assembly appeared to be well oiled. Hanging from a loop on his old bib overalls were three large red squirrels.
No one deserves to be discriminated against, no matter what their differences from society's norm.
A tidy quote from our favorite author,
"titles belong on books, not people" ©Carl Dickson–2007
It contains no truth, partial truth, or half truth. What it does contain is stroking material. If this kind of story turns you off, or offends you, please find something else.
The author does not encourage or condone sex between adults and underage children.
If you lied about your age in order to access this story, remember this is our story. Life doesn't always work out like a story.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either
are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitioiusly,
and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business
establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
This dusted off story was written on 10/27/2007.
Chuck Chapter 1
Chuck was a little fat boy. He was teased and rejected by his classmates. He was always the last to be selected for a team, the last to be called on in class. He didn't really mind, had he his way he would as soon as not be left to his own devices. He had his own invisible playmate that would do as he bade him, anytime. Chuck was well satisfied to be alone. When he did play with the other kids in the neighborhood it was always with those younger than himself. Though he saw himself as the leader he was, in reality, the brunt of their cruelties.
By the time Chuck was twelve he was a total introvert. He had withdrawn into himself so much that his father was alarmed. The two of them took many outings together and Chuck seemed to enjoy the outdoors. He was very good at pitching a campsite and provisioning it from nature's store house. He loved to find wild foods such as berries and salad fixings. He was a good hunter and nearly always brought down rabbits or squirrel for a meal. His father was very proud of what Chuck could do in the woods, but he wanted his son to learn people skills. He knew that if Chuck were ever to succeed in life he must be able to get along with others.
It was on one of their outings that Chuck's dad decided on a way to help his son overcome himself and develop into a man. The two were enjoying a fishing trip, actually it had started as a rattle snake hunt, but the fishing turned out so well that they spent the entire weekend at the river, below the dam. When they returned home, late Sunday evening, they had over fifty bass in their cooler and none of them under three pounds. Chuck was the hero of the neighborhood. Even the older boys came to see the collection of fish heads that Chuck had lined up on an old table behind the garage. Some of the fish heads measured nearly six inches wide with none of them less than four inches wide.
"What you gonna do with 'em?" was the question that all the boys asked.
"I'll let them ripen in the sun a few days then I'll put them in the garden as fertilizer."
"Don't you know anything? The Indians taught the Pilgrims to put fish in the ground with the corn to make it grow fast. Fish make good fertilizer."
Chuck's dad remained silent. He could see that his son was coming into his own. His facts may need some rethinking, but this was not the time for that. "Let him build his confidence, " he thought. He knew of a camp where Chuck could really "shine". A summer camp was being offered for boys experienced in the ways of the woods and Chuck had reached the age where he would be able to go.
"Son, I have a surprise for you," his dad said. "You enjoy the outdoors so much and you are a good forager and provider; I thought that you would like to go to a two month camp in the mountains. You will be teamed up with another camper and taught wilderness survival, though I think you will teach them."
"It sounds like fun, dad. When can I go?"
"The camp starts in two weeks. We'll drive over Friday night and do some fishing on our own and then Sunday afternoon we'll go over to the camp."
"Where is it?"
"It's over in the Ozarks at a place on Flint Creek. We've been in that area many years ago; though you may not remember, you were quite young then."
The next two weeks were the longest that Chuck had ever lived through. He was very anxious to go. He packed his clothes in his backpack at least eight times during his wait. The last Thursday finally came. Chuck had all the camping gear cleaned and packed to go into the car when his dad came home. The fishing tackle was all in order. He had gone to the sporting goods store to stock up on hooks, fish line, and a few fancy lures. He cleaned and oiled the rifles, made sure there was plenty of ammunition and that it was packed safely and dry. He replaced the older medicines in the first aid kit and double checked his supply of clean bandages.
At long last his dad's car came down the street and Chuck could rest, his work was nearly done. As soon as his dad was out of the car Chuck was inside cleaning it out. He washed and dried the brand new 1956 Chevy Bel-Aire. Polished the chrome and the windows then put all the camping gear in the trunk. Chuck's dad sat watching from the living room window. He wanted to help, but knew that the more Chuck did by himself the more confidence he would develop.
Thursday night was full of excitement as Chuck anticipated his upcoming adventure. His dad took him and his mother out to dinner at a fine restaurant. Chuck bought his mother a large red carnation and assured her that he was a big boy and would take care of himself. That night he stayed awake until well after eleven thinking of the adventure ahead. He awoke a little after eight the next morning. After a long shower and a few game shows on TV, his mother asked him if he wanted to go to lunch and spend a few hours shopping with her. He wanted to spend the time with her, but he hated shopping with a passion. When she reminded him that Sunday was Father's Day and that he should get his dad a card, at least, he thought he should go.
His mother took him to the mall that had just opened in their town; this was Chuck's first trip to the mall and he wasn't sure what to expect. They had lunch in a Mexican restaurant and Chuck had fun playing with the melted cheese in his enchilada. They went to several different stores until they found a gift that they thought dad would like. They purchased a small clock radio for his desk and had it wrapped. It was decided that it would be put away and mom would present it to dad when he returned from his weekend with Chuck.
At four Chuck and his mother headed to his dad's office. She hugged him and he reluctantly gave up a kiss, after all he would be gone for two months he could kiss her this once, and nobody was looking, were they? They went up to his dad's office. He was at his desk with a stack of papers before him. Looking up from his work he saw his family coming in the door. Rising he greeted them at told them he had to finish the file on his desk and then he would be ready to go, maybe fifteen minutes tops. Chuck and his mother went back to the parking lot to wait. Chuck had her unlock his dad's car and he rolled the windows down to cool the car off. He then took the ice chest with the fresh food in it and loaded it into his dad's car. In no time at all his dad appeared dressed in blue jeans and his favorite fishing shirt. He had his suit on a clothes hanger in one hand and was carrying his work shoes in the other hand. Chuck said goodbye to his mother and after a few pleasantries the two men were on their way.
They arrived at the camp grounds, where they would spend the next couple of nights, at about 7:30. There was just enough light left to get the tent from the car and find the lanterns. They had to put the tent up by lantern light, but that was not a new activity for them. The tent was pitched and a fire had been started within an hour and dad was looking through their supplies for something to put together for a light meal.
"I think that is a neat idea to have a wood pile laid up for campers. I have never seen that before," said Chuck.
"This is only one of a few camp grounds that I have ever been to that do that. They know that people come in late and want to get a fire going right away, but don't always have time to find and cut wood. All they ask is that before you leave you restock the supply with more cut wood."
"That's alright," said Chuck, "all camp areas should have that."
"Not all campers are courteous enough to use it properly so it is not a widely accepted idea."
"Dad, let's put out a trot line before we go to bed. That way we'll have fish for breakfast."
"That sounds like a fine idea, son." Dad took out the tackle box and opened it. "You have bought some new equipment. I like the look of these lures, I'll catch some fish with these babies tomorrow morning.
"Chuck, I have to tell you this. I am very proud of you, son. You have abilities for someone far beyond your years. I sometimes wish that you had more "street smarts", but in the wilderness you are second to none." He wrapped his arms around the boy and they sat in this embrace for several minutes.
Chuck loved his dad and would do anything to please him, but he was a little embarrassed with the "PDA". Pulling away, after some time, he grabbed the heavy cord of the trot line and headed for the creek. "Better get this in the water if we're going to catch anything. What do you think we should use for bait tonight?"
"Well, as I remember, this creek is good for Channel Cat. Let's put some stink bait on."
"OK. And I got some fresh liver yesterday. It ought to be real ripe after setting in the trunk all day. Let's use both, alternating hooks."
"Sounds like a plan to me, sport." Dad only used that name for his son when the boy took control and acted older than his twelve year old body showed. He was a chubby kid, yes, but that was probably because he did very little physical activity at home. Two months in these woods with his attitude to life when out of town and dad could conceive of a lean trim woodsman returning home in a few weeks.
Morning found Chuck at the edge of the creek cleaning four large Channel Cat. Dad came down to see the fruits of his son's labors. "Well, sport?"
"Hi, dad. Look at this. Doesn't your mouth water?"
From behind his back, dad produced a cast iron frying pan. "Water? I'm drooling like a baby." Both men, laughing uncontrollably.
They headed back to the tent with their catch in the skillet that dad carried. Dad had already added a few logs to the fire and they were burning brightly as they set about getting breakfast on the fire. Chuck sliced three large potatoes into another skillet and added a half of a small onion and some shortening. This he placed in the center of the fire. Dad now had the fish rolled in flour and cornmeal and had melted shortening in the 'fish' skillet. He placed the fish into the hot grease and opened a Coke. Chuck opened a coke and sat down beside his dad to watch the food cook. A can of pork-n-beans and some of mom's home made bread rounded off the breakfast and the two woodsmen headed to the creek to wash the dishes.
All this done, the camp was tied down and they headed off for a day's fishing and foraging. By lunch they had two good sized small-mouth bass and a cap full of wild strawberries. Chuck also found some water cress and wild polk. He had spotted wild onions near the camp and their were dandelions all about the place. While dad cleaned this catch, Chuck set about preparing a salad fit for royalty.
Polk Salad, Poke Weed, and a variety of other common names are all names for the poisonous plant, Phytolacca americana. The plant is a perennial, and grows wild across a large portion of the United States. The plant is similar to turnip greens, collard greens, and mustard greens -, but a little more acidic and can be bitter. One of the most interesting things about polk salad is that it's actually quite poisonous. The toxic substance in the plant is a triterpene saponin called phytolaccigenin, which causes hemagglutination. Sometimes called American Nightshade, polk salad can be a very dangerous plant if not prepared and consumed properly.
Once the green leaves reach about 7 inches - they are filled with toxin and unsafe to eat. The stems, and root, are always full of this poison, and there is never a safe time or safe way to eat them. However, as long as the leaves are less than 7 inches long, this plant can be prepared safely and consumed, by carefully following a few simple steps.
1. Immediately after picking the polk greens, wash thoroughly in cold running water.
2. Immerse the cleaned greens in a pot of boiling water for 5 minutes.
3. Drain, and rinse the boiled greens with cold running water again, rinse boiling pot.
4. Refill pot with cold water and bring to a boil. Boil the greens again for 5 minutes.
5. Drain, rinse the greens again in cold water.
At this stage, the greens are now safe to eat. However, in the South, we cook them one more time by frying them in a skillet with some bacon fat. Some people also scramble eggs into the fried greens. You may add salt and pepper to taste, and some people like a little vinegar on them.
As the two were eating another fisherman passed near their campsite. "Catch much?" called dad.
"Not a thing in two days. You appear to be doing OK. What you using?" asked the angler.
"Just a couple of lures my boy bought the other day. I got a few hits on them and managed to hook these two. The lures may be a little big for what's in this creek, but there's nothing wrong with the two I caught. They must run about a pound, pound and a half each.
The angler continued on mumbling something unintelligible to himself as Chuck and his dad tried to stifle their laughter.
Lunch in the past, our two adventurers set out on a narrow path that seemed to head into the woods. After just a couple of hundred yards they found themselves on a well traveled trail that led upwards. It seemed to be easy walking and they continued on. After an hour they were at the top of a small mountain having climbed about a thousand feet above their camp site. Below them could be seen the crystal clear creek as it wound through the rolling hillside. From here they could see to the south where Chuck would be spending his summer. The mountain behind that camp was much higher than this one and was covered in oak, maple, and small pine trees. Chuck stated that it looked like he was going to have a fun time.
"Howdy!" said Chuck's dad.
"Humph!" grunted the old man.
"We are scouting out places to hunt. Are there any cabins or homes up in here? We don't want to be shooting in the wrong direction.
"What you shootin'?
"Oh, just 22 long rifle. Don't see any need in anything else for small game. It's not deer season anyway so I don't want to be tempted if I run up on one.
"Well there's mountain folk all around, but a .22 shouldn't get to far, sides ya'd probably hit a tree if you missed your shot anyway. What ya should do is to get yer self a guide.
"That sounds like a good idea. Are you a guide, perhaps?
"Well... I have showed a few city boys where they could get a meal out these woods.
"Would you like to show us a few good places?
"I go at dawn. You give me five bucks we'll be back 'bout noon.
"Seems a little high.
"No game, no pay. Ya got any bonded?
"Ya know... (wink)... don't like to talk in front of the boy and all." With a whisper, "city liquor.
"Ah, no. I don't have any liquor.
"Sat's alright. I got me a still up there. Sometimes I just like a taste of the bonded stuff. You want me to take yearn all in the mornin'?
"Yeah, where can we meet you?
"I'll be at your camp.
"Well, we're camped at..
"I know where you are. I'll be there. Them's right nice cat fish you had this morning, boy.
"How did he know about the catfish?" Chuck inquired of his dad as the old man moved on down the trail.
"I don't know. He must have seen you. These old mountain folk move around so quite you never know that they're there. They usually don't let you see them unless they want something and I guess he wants five dollars."
Chuck crawled through the front flap of the tent as the first ray of sunlight touched the tent. Sitting on his haunches by the fire was the old man. He was leaning on his carbine for support as he stirred the embers. A pot of coffee was starting to perk as it hung from the hook on the spit that Chuck had fashioned for that reason. "Better fix a quick breakfast boy. We're leavin' soon and won't be back fer about six, seven hours. Take some water with you.
"I'm not a city dude, mister. I know what I'm doing up here.
"Feisty half-pint ain't ya?
"Good morning," dad said as he came from the tent. "Let's get some chow and head out.
"Well, Chuck, when in Rome...
Twenty minutes later the three were on the narrow path with bacon and cheese sandwiches in hand, and four more wrapped in plastic bags in the large pockets of their hunting/fishing pants.
They returned about twenty minutes before three with four red squirrel and a raccoon. "I'll make you a cap from the 'coon tail, Chuck. Thank you for the meat.
"No problem, Frank. When do you think you'll bring it down?
"Takes a few days to do a hide right, maybe next week-end. I'll probably see you on the trail before then.
"You'll come down to the camp to see me?
"No. Like I said, dat ole boy what runs dat place don't takes ta me. I stays away from him and his and he leaves me alone. Dat's da way I likes it.
Frank moved on toward his home as dad came up from the out house. "Boy, five more minutes and I wouldn't have made it. Where's Frank?
"Right there, heading down that path on the other side of the creek.
"How'd he get over there? I don't see a path or bridge.
"I don't know. I turned around when you came up and looked back and he was over there. Maybe he walked on the water. I got two squirrels spited and have the fire at the right level, they'll be done in thirty minutes. What do you want with it? OH!! By the way, Happy Father's Day, dad," he jumped up an wrapped his arms around his dad's neck and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
Dad hugged his boy tight and then wiped a tear from his eye. "Thanks, son. Let's see what we have here that needs to be eaten up. Are there any of your wild greens for another terrific salad?
"No, but everything I need is right here and I can have it gathered and prepared before the squirrels are finished cooking.
As they ate under the shade of the giant Oak tree that had been their shelter for the last two nights, dad looked at his boy. He was no more a boy. Oh yeah, his body said boy all over it, and as could be seen last night, as the two took their bath in the creek below the dam, puberty had not yet started in him., but man? Yeah, he was. The physical would come soon enough, the mind was already maturing. "You like old Frank don't you son?
"Yeah, he's nice. He knows these woods. He showed me trees and plants that I never would have known the names of. He even showed me some ferns that look like ones in my school books that are supposed to be extinct. I hope to get to see more of him this summer.
"Well that's up to the people at the summer camp, but I'm sure they won't mind. I guess we best start cleaning up. It's time to get you down there and for me to head on home if I want to get back before dark. I want a long bath and rest before I have to go to the office in the morning.
"What, a long bath? Didn't you like the bath we had last night?
"Oh sure. I don't mind a swim in a cold stream and we had a bar of soap, but I want to soak in a hot tub and then take a long hot shower."
They collapsed the tent and folded it away. Wiped all the gear down and stowed it in the car. Turning to each other they hugged one another in a long embrace. "I'll bring your mother up to see you in three or four weeks, but I am really going to miss our outings. It'll be fun when you come home because you'll know more than you do now.
"I'm going to miss you too. I'm already home sick.
"Now don't go on like that. Next thing you'll be saying you don't want to go.
"We better get down there before I do want to go home with you. Do you think we could ever go on a trip like this and never go home?
"That would be wonderful, but I'm afraid it's a bit unrealistic.
"I knew you would say that."
After The Battle
All In The Family
Andy Finds Daddy
The Bus Trip
Bryn and Mell
Chris My Love
From 6 One
In The Locker Rm
Jasson & Jerrod
John and Me
Jordan and Ellis
Laney and Me
Lyle and Kyle
Mark and Lyle
Mitch and Carroll
My Bed Is Made
Pat and Me
The Phone Call
Rainy Day Randy
Rape of Rocky
Roby & Cowboy
Ryan and Jeremy
Swimming /w Steve
13 Year Old Daddy
Uncle Ed, Tommy, and Me
Does your mother know you're reading this shit?
Warning: This story is PORNO. I have tried my hand at friction, now I'm trying fiction. This story contains vivid descriptions of sexual activity between men and teen boys.
If you are underage, or if this is illegal where you are, then please go away. If you're under 18, Adios come back when it is legal for you to read this smut.
A strongly worded suggestion has resulted in this statement.
Thus said, this story is copyrighted, ©2007, 2011 It is therefore illegal to copy or use any part of this story on any other web site without my written permission.
As they continued their walk they were scouting for hunting areas. Not knowing the surroundings, they sure didn't want to shoot into anyone's home. As they rounded a boulder the size of a house they came face to face with a dirty, grungy looking old man. His beard was matted and unwashed. A dark stain was on his lips and in the hair around his mouth. His beard reached well down onto his chest. His teeth were brown and a few appeared to be rotten. His hair was a tangle hanging past his shoulders. His clothes were unwashed as well and had a heavy urine odor. The old man's boots were well worn and patched with what appeared to be tanned hides. He carried an old Army Carbine in his left hand, it's stock worn with age., but the barrel assembly appeared to be well oiled. Hanging from a loop on his old bib overalls were three large red squirrels.