Date: Thu, 16 Apr 2020 13:04:44 +0000
From: ^sharper <sharper.inorbit@protonmail.com>
Subject: STORY : RICK HOWMAN - PART NINE

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RICK HOWMAN - PART NINE

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RICK HOWMAN - PART NINE

The Story of the Arctic Seal

[Author's note.

This episode is based on NO experience, and less knowledge, of the Arctic
or its people. So all information is totally just to serve the purposes of
the story. Nothing is intended to portray an accurate account of
anything. It's just a story. No offense intended.

In sparking off my imagination, I have used the following resource:

www.firstpeoplesofcanada.com/fp_groups/fp_inuit5.html

End of author's note.]

Baby sat at Tony's feet, listening to Tony reminisce. He often proudly
imagined the virile young Tony spreading his seed in all the countries of
the world, and felt, whenever Tony came inside him, that he was just the
latest privileged member in that club of men, Tony's Fucked Club.

Sometimes Tony fell asleep mid-sentence, or deep in thought; sometimes his
stories were so outlandish and stupid, or just boring accounts of his
sexual conquests that, sometimes, Baby would zone out and drift off and
then try to pretend he has heard everything. Sometimes he fell asleep
listening, and he could not tell if Tony noticed or even cared.

But some of Tony's stories had a kind of fantastic quality that kept his
Baby's sleepy-head awake with the what-happens-next of it. Like this one:
The Story Of The Arctic Seal ...

---

Tony, comfortable in his robe, crossed his feet, relaxed in his armchair.

"Yeah, I've seen the Arctic. The Ocean. Yeah. I was in the Arctic. For a
while. When I was a kid. Well, a young man. Yeah I've been there; I've been
to the Arctic. The Arctic Ocean. I've been there. I mean, I was just a
lad. I was young. Not that young. I mean, I wasn't, that,
young. Twenties. Old enough to get into trouble; old enough to know
better. Or, old enough to take the blame but not old enough to be
trusted. Or something like that. But point is: I trusted myself. I had this
self-confident self-reliance. Independence. Always had. And when you're
that age you're looking for adventures, you're looking for experiences. So
yeah I was in the Arctic." Tony laughed, aware that it sounded
exotic. "Canada. The Frozen North. Yeah.

"The thing about it was that I prized myself. That's the difference. I
always have. I was physically at that peak you hit when you haven't
developed all the bulk muscle you're going to have later, but you make up
for it by agility and hardiness. I was slim but extremely fit. I wasn't
interested in sports, but I was all about challenge, endurance, physical
and mental training, and adventure, plus I was studying and there was a
brainy research side of me that made me want to collect stuff and look at
it for hours on end, writing notes and so on. That was the academic side,
and I had this project I was doing, through Uni, researching the indigenous
people of the Northern Territories, as they were called then. I hatched
this plan to live with them, hopefully live as they lived, and just study
them, anthropologically. I hoped to ... well in retrospect I don't know
what I hoped to achieve. It was all an excuse for an adventure. I thought I
might get a PhD out of it. That was the official reason.

"I managed to find this settlement, in Canada, that was completely cut off
nine months - except for a landing strip which a propeller plane used to
ship goods and people in and out.

"Well, I say totally cut off. The locals could always get about. They had
dogs. These dogs they prized more than their women."

He laughed.

"So I organised my contacts, via the university, packed some stuff and,
well, that's how I arrived. See. Yeah. I just decided: I could afford and
wanted to take six months out of my life to do something pretty, well it
was pretty extraordinary, I guess. A cut above your usual
gang-bang-through-Bali type escape. What I mean is, it wasn't my idea to be
a sex tourist; just because I did end up that way doesn't mean I meant to.

"I tell you what, it was fucking cold! Big surprise. My supplies weren't
adequate. I don't mean I hadn't planned - but the plans weren't good
enough. No way could you imagine the cold of that fucking place. You could
literally lose your dick if you peed in the snow. I had tons of stuff but I
had to wear it all. All of it. The layers were inches deep. All my
underwear. All my shirts. All my jumpers. All my trousers. It was like I
was a walking wardrobe. When the locals saw me they laughed like kids at
the circus; pointed and creased up - I won't forget. Their laughing mouths
were like their dark faces had been cut with a saw where you could see
these enormous snowy gates of big strong teeth. Amazing. Their eyes were
just folds filled with eyelashes and, you know, primitive mirth. They stood
in rows, rosy cheeked, blinking at me out of the circles of their fluffy
sealskin hoods.

"I mean, I pretty soon found that there were guys in that huddle of amused
locals who were more interested in another thing. Their eyes rested on me
in a fearsome fascinated way. I already knew that look so well. I already
knew my influence on guys."

Tony moved his legs so that his robe fell open revealing his sexual organs
like a pile of fallen boulders at the back of a dimly lit cave. He saw Baby
watching it with more fascination than he was attending to the story. He
pulled his robe apart like a tent so that light fell on his swollen dick
and spread his knees apart so that it lolled on his testicles, half
awake. Baby watched it move; his lips parted unconsciously and he leaned
forward without being aware of it.

"Don't," said Tony. "That's for later, understand." He reached out and
grabbed Baby's head, pulling it towards his lap, spreading his legs so that
Baby could rest his head on Tony's crotch of thick man meat like a pillow.

"I love that look. I know all I have to do is move in: the door's
open. There's a welcome within that's as irresistible to me as it is
undeniable to them. I love that look. There's a look in their eyes that
just, just like a helpless soul within, drowning within, grasping for
physical manhood. They are - I mean I can literally feel their hunger."

Tony started to chortle as he said this, in a slightly manic way, stroking
Baby's head, digging his fingers into Baby's scalp almost painfully. "Oww
that hurts," thought Baby, but put up with it despite his irritation until
Tony stopped sniggering and resumed the story with his hand just rested on
Baby's head, patting it occasionally.

"So, I just let them take their time; come to me; watch them finding
ways. Funny thing is, they can't help it; they can't hide it and the more
they try the more obvious they are. You're the same."

Baby glowed with a strange sort of pride, or comfort, at being recognisably
what he was. Tony's hand resting on his head pressed his face into Tony's
huge cock and weighed down through his neck and into his core.

"What makes me hard is the things men will do for it. And all I have to do
is, whatever I want. I like that, but I wasn't expecting it from these
Arctic guys. Dogs yapping, that was all their interest. Plus Caribou. So
there was this one in particular, when I asked why they were laughing, said
I should get some proper, suitable clothing. And he said it with a grin
that made me want to undress him there and then to look at him, what was
hidden underneath all that fur. He said skin was proper warm and proper
dry, not stupid western plastic garbage. Clearly he thought I didn't know
about it; clearly knew better than I did how to thrive and be comfy in this
cold climate. But also: he just wanted to see me. He wanted to see my
cock. I know; but he did. I could tell. He wanted to know if it was
big. And then he wanted to touch it. And then he wanted to feel it. And
then he wanted to feel what it would be like if I fucked him. So that's
where we're going with all this. He started by offering to get -"

"Hold on, hold on," interrupted Baby, unable to lift his head away from
between Tony's legs. "Didn't he have a name, this guy?"

"Oh yes he had a name. Strong name. Amaq, his name was. Amaq. It means
'Strong' in the local. Amaq. So he started by offering - well there was a
crowd of them, laughing. I had put my entire wardrobe on."

"Like Joey and Chandler," said Baby, with a laugh.

"Er?"

"Friends episode."

"You need to stop, interrupting, lad."

Baby felt Tony's hand tighten on his scalp. He bit his lip.

"They were laughing. Amaq, who was part of this group stepped forward and
said, in a really unique French-Canadian-Inuit accent, 'Hey man can I help
you get you skins.' Which wasn't a question. He was offering to help. But I
knew immediately two things, which was, one, I needed help, and, two, he
needed something from me. Though he was cool, about as cool as you like, I
saw it in his eyes; I recognised that look. He was completely friendly, but
he kind of ... never looked me directly in the eye. He looked round me
rather than at me, or past me, I'd say, and into me, but then at the last
second he raised his eyes and when our pupils locked it was like he wanted
to communicate.

"And he had dogs.

"I was suspicious because I thought these men were only interested in
taking the piss out of stupid English; but he said he could see I needed
help! I thought he was being cheeky at first til I realised he meant it
kindly. He was just being friendly. He said I needed skin. So that's how it
went. I didn't know what 'skin' entailed. I thought he would sell me some
stuff. He didn't - though he kind of did."

"What do you mean?" said Baby.

"I mean, he, wanted something in return. Obviously."

"Sex."

"Yeah well, I thought that as well." Tony wiggled his foot. "Remove my
slippers." Baby sat up, the warm imprint of Tony's prick on his face, and
adjusted his position so that he could remove Tony's slippers.

Tony lifted his prick up and stretched it and let it drop back into his
leg. "With your teeth," he said. Baby smirked. "I'm not joking. Do it."

Baby lowered his face and gripped the toe of one of Tony's slippers in his
teeth. He dragged it off the foot and sat up, letting it dangle from his
mouth before tossing it to one side. Then he did the same thing with the
other one. Tony wiggled his toes. "Massage my feet."

Baby used both his hands.

"Was he cute?" he asked.

"He was cute alright, though it was difficult to tell through all the
clothes. He had a muscled build, athletic. He was slim. Beautiful
face. Kept smiling. Always happy. You don't often see that in a man, in a
subservient man. It was the smiling that got to me. I found it confusing."

"How so?" Baby kneaded the balls of Tony's feet and bent forward to kiss
his toes.

Tony smiled, "Good lad."

"Amaq. He had his own way. He knew what he wanted. He had a very deep voice
and it made him sound assertive even when he wasn't being assertive. That
was a thing, I learnt. But in fact even if he wasn't sure what he wanted,
he still wanted it, and, like it says, the heart knows. The heart of a sub;
it knows. It has its own way of ... getting what it needs." Baby kissed
Tony's feet. "You're like that." Baby smiled and felt horny and wanted Tony
as well. "You're like that. So. Amaq started saying he knew how to help,
and patted me on the back, these thick fur mittens, and rubbed my back
unnecessarily hard and unnecessarily long. I let him. I said to him,
deliberately, 'What do I need?' and he said, 'You come' - which seemed like
the horniest thing I'd ever heard, because it sounded to my ears like a
direct invitation to fuck, which it was, but also it wasn't: He grabbed my
arm and pulled me towards this shed.  I just went along. I knew we were
getting sexy, and I hadn't fucked all journey and I was getting pretty
... you know. So I wanted to get to it."

Baby took a deep breath and tried to look sympathetic; Tony never went
without, so this, and when he was younger and proportionately even more
horny - Baby could see he would have been in torture, needing to get some.

"We went in, just him and me. Inside it was cold, just not as cold as
outside. Our breath still made fog. I said, 'You ever cold?' But he just
shrugged. I mean, I could feel it on my face. As he entered, he pushed off
his hood; his hair was long and black and tied back from his face. He
flicked a light on, and there were these racks of stuff: parkas, leggings,
mittens, boots, hats, shirts, even underclothes; all fur. He indicated a
big pile of skins, like rugs, and peeled a few off. So I could see
... Everything was fur. He showed me: fur on the inside - you wear two
layers - fur against the skin - imagine that. How's that going to feel? -
and then another layer with the fur turned facing out. Two layers - that's
the trick.

"The way he removed his clothing was so I could see how everything worked
to contain the heat; how the skins worked to contain the heat of the body
and bake it in, like an oven. He explained it to me, all, and then he
showed me: He opened his top layer, buttoned in a really complicated way
and overlapped so the fur just sort of uncurled from his chest like a piece
of hairy bacon. Then, with that layer open, he unbuttoned the next,
revealing his chest, and then peeled them both off his shoulders and
slipped out of it so he was completely naked before I had a chance to
notice it was happening. And I couldn't believe it. Underneath ... wow,
he'd got this super body! Dark, shiny skin. Boy was he fit. Slim but super
built. Super tight. Super hot. A bit like yours, but more muscles. Very
fuckable. Very something I could, I knew, I had to make use of it. He was
literally shining, his soft red-brown skin rosy and so fucking, the heat
coming off.

"And of course he was hard as a rock, his prick so gorgeous and lovely,
standing up, waving about, wet at the tip with a trickle of pre dripping
down the shaft into the bit of hair on his balls. I wanted to touch but he
took my hand in his hands and placed it on his pec, palm down, and I felt
this heat like unbelievable - where I was fucking freezing my nuts off I
was so uncomfortable. I said to him, 'You're burning!'

"He was so hard and hot for me too. And he had locked the door immediately,
so I went for him, instinctively grabbing his head by his ponytail and
sticking my tongue in his mouth, suddenly feeling my long journey of sexual
deprivation as fresh desire to make use of a willing man directed me. He
let me do that for a bit, then pushed my chest and said, 'Now you. Now
you.'

"So I was wild to have him. So despite the cold I let him undress me. He
clearly loved doing that, 'Here, let's strip this off and I will get you
hot like me also.' Like he would ..."

"What did he say when he saw it?" interrupted Baby, unable to restrain
himself. Tony gave him a stern look. "The size of it ... I mean. Wasn't he,
you know, surprised?"

"My clothes were more difficult to remove, and sticky with sweat,"
continued Tony, ignoring him. "I felt disgusting, but he helped peel them
off and then, when I was standing in the cold - but yeah, he was surprised
by it. He looked like he'd struck fucking gold.  Like you look at it. He
grabbed it, like he couldn't believe it, and literally pulled me towards
him and held me so all his heat from his body flowed out of him and into
me, and then he was holding me like an octopus, arms and legs all round so
my body - he pushed me to the ground, onto this pile of skins like a bed,
tugging one huge skin over his back like a tent - suddenly we were in a hot
pocket of his fur and his skin. His heat and me. He was all over me; moaned
when my 'huge' dick flipped between his legs; bit my ear lobes and kissed
my eyelids and said, 'I want you to in me ... and please ... please
... me."

"My body was underneath and I was entering his tight willing cunt almost
before I knew what was happening. He held my hardon inside him - he guided
it in, shutting his eyes, concentrating, breathing - and then he was
fucking himself on it, flicking his dick and moaning already and hurting
himself to take it, like he hadn't in months either and couldn't not take
it. And he said, 'I make you happy', like it was an order to himself. He
was so natural. He was in so much pain and made me hurt him even without me
having to tell him to do it, or even doing it consciously.

"It was such a pleasure fuck cs he was so hard and tight and horny and
willing, kneeling astride me, pressing into my chest with fists. Long hair
flowing. Etc. His back narrowed to a vee of two ridges that dropped into
firm buns that all I wanted to do was grip them and fuck the juice out of
them."

Baby unconsciously tightened his abs and his anus when he heard this,
picturing it was his own body getting fucked and stretched open.

"I knew it was torture for him, but he focused and took the whole lot and
then fucked himself on it until it was smoother and smoother. He
instinctively knew how to edge himself so he was always aching to carry on
and have more and could take it. It takes practise to do that but he knew
instinctively. That was so hot. I asked him if he'd ever been with a girl
and he laughed. So I don't know the answer. But when I asked him if he had
been with other men he laughed differently, and I could tell, he had been."

"Obviously! How many men?" asked Baby, wondering what his answer would be
in comparison.

"The village, I guess," said Tony with a frown. "I never got much of an
answer to that. But I could tell, he knew he loved getting fucked. I knew,
Ietting him kiss me and clamber on top of me, straddling it and guiding it
in. Asking me if he was tight? He was. Eventually he was relaxed enough and
wet enough I could screw him easily, and I was punting along like a
dream. He was a strong man. Not much bulk. Skinny, so his muscle was
defined. Very strong. Wanting to be fucked and not ashamed to beg me to,
'Make it deep.' He wouldn't let me tell him anything. He just wanted to be
on top of it and hammering down. I was a bit overwhelmed, like, who's in
charge here? 'I want to share with you,' he said, edging himself insanely
to slide it deeper and deeper and harder up inside. 'Make it deep.'

"He was so smooth. I remember his dark pointed nipples when I was fucking
him and him folding his legs and bouncing on it and this look on his face
like he was willing me to hurt him. I really got off on that. I mean it was
like weeks and I hadn't held another man's naked flesh - I wasn't used to
that! 'Make it deep!'

"He was lovely to touch. He had these tattoos all over his shoulders,
tribal, you might say, but these were real tribal, like the real thing;
authentic Arctic custom marks and symbols. Very sexy.

"I remember gripping his gorgeous tight buttocks and then his narrow waist,
the way his abs contracted into a hollow arch of six-pack slabs, and
forcing myself into him and him saying, 'I want you to happy please';
kissing me and really just opening himself like a super tight but also, you
know, super loose, so that I could penetrate him, hilt-hitting his balls
hard, mashing him and, I could tell, ripping him but also, making it
cum. His long black hair came loose like a girl's, fell in my face and
dropped with sweat as he worked himself up on me. And as I gave it into and
went so deep and I ejaculated into him his eyes just sort of melted and
emptied and then filled as he came too. All over me. And he wiped his hair
out of his face, shooting his load whilst I was shooting my load into
him. Filling him up. He wiped his hand off on the fur where a big dollop of
cum sort of disappeared into the hair like magic. He fell forward and held
my shoulders, I had my hands on his neck, and his whole body was
convulsing, like mine, with a sort of post-orgasm quake that went on for
some time, burying his face in me and shaking. We were both heaving for
breath so much. I'll never forget. He was grinning like a cat when he
lifted himself off me, his pretty hole was leaking my cum all down his legs
and all over my shitty prick. When he stood up and walked he had my cum
running down the insides of his legs. It was incredible. I remember
thinking, That's my cum. When I stood up, the furs were all sticky and wet
but he rubbed them vigorously and said, 'That's normal. It goes.' Like
that. Dripping cum. And laughing.

"I tell you what, the cold never bothered me again. I never felt it once
after that. Like his heat had infected me, or like ... inoculated me
against it."

"Fuck," whispered Baby, his tongue on Tony's big toe and suddenly even more
aware of his cock and his balls between his legs and the air touching his
arsecrack, open and willling, and Tony's fat prick something like miles
away, up there, beyond his knees. Out of reach.

"Keep sucking," said Tony, "that's it. Afterwards. Amaq walked me up to one
of the Inukshuks - they're like these windows or gates in the landscape the
locals have built, out of whatever materials lie around. Very holy. In the
spring thaw they monumentally frame the landscape and stress it's sacred
nature. We stood before the giant opening, absorbing the section of land
and sky it cropped into a picture, and, well, I have to say, I was moved. I
was genuinely moved by it. I couldn't think in clear sentences. All I could
do was feel the greatness of this earth and the incomprehensible space
around us, and he took my hand and squeezed it meaningfully, like, as if to
say, like, 'This, is us.' "

Baby listened in silence.

"It was pretty amazing," said Tony, blinking. He looked at Baby, then
continued, "Amaq fell to his knees before the Inukshuk and I knelt with
him, like the whole universe was an altar and we were praying. 'I want to
be your man,' he said. 'You are,' I said. And I really meant it. And then
he said, 'I want to be your woman too.' Which was so hot. I was going to
fuck him there and then with the Inukshuk as my witness but, well ... it
wasn't practical!" Tony smiled. "But later. Oh boy. I tell you, he was
alight, and so much fun to use him like that, again and again." Tony smiled
again. "That's total ownership! When it's witnessed by the universe!"

Baby was so hard and hot for Tony's cock.

"It was so funny because as we were walking back from the Inukshuk, our
elbows bumping each other; stumbling and kicking the rocks on the path, he
was singing to himself, his black hair stuck on his face; he looked at me
again and again, singing this lovely local song, really pretty - until I
listened and I realised it was 'Love, Love Me Do', you know, by the
Beatles! But sung in an accent. So funny.

"I could see I had made him really happy as only a man like me can make a
sub happy: His face had changed; he was happy within like he wasn't
before. But that's also when he started to be sad. Before the cum was even
dry on the bedsheets - because we went back and fucked again, obviously,
but this time on a proper bed, my bed - I had him on his back with his legs
around me and as I exploded with a shot that barrelled right through him, I
saw his eyes melt in that way of his, 'Thank ... you ... tTon-eey,' he
said, jerking onto his chest, then he was immediately asking, he was asking
me, 'Stay longtime?'

"And I said, 'No.'

"I was trying to take it slow, but he was annoying me. 'Take me with you
then,' he whispered. And I said, 'No. That won't be possible.' But I stayed
inside him until I was sure I had drained my sperm completely inside, and
he was safe.

"It was like that."

"He loved you," said Baby.

"Yeah. I guess so," said Tony. "Pity for him."

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END OF RICK HOWMAN - PART NINE