Date: Mon, 26 Nov 2018 17:17:07 +0000 (UTC)
From: Arthur Doyle <sirarthurpornandoyle@yahoo.com>
Subject: A Study in Fornication, Chapter 8

Chapter VIII: Awakening the desire within

Strangerson avoided his friend Hope for some days after this episode,
unable to face the convert following his intrusive eavesdropping among the
reeds. Not understanding the reason for this sudden change in their
relationship, Hope took to moping about his house, emerging infrequently to
wander about the city with a brooding expression. His neighbours
comprehended that something was amiss, and gossip spread throughout the
town.

Strangerson himself had grown despondent, torn between competing desires to
confess to his friend what he had witnessed and the wish to simply forget
about the entire immoral episode. He remained in his room with the shudders
shut, languishing in his bed throughout the day. Seeing his dejection,
Joseph Strangerson's parents decided to take action.

"My son," said his father, coming into his room one day. "Your mother and I
have decided it is time that you should marry. Would you not say that the
dear Lucy Ferrier who lives down the street is a beauty?"

The unhappy youth could make no sense of his father's question, so lost was
he in his misery. He merely raised his head from his pillow and told the
Elder Strangerson that he no longer cared what happened to him. At this
declaration, his father realized that his son must be in a sorry state
indeed, and that nuptial arrangements would have to secured as quickly as
possible.

A few more days passed and the Elder Strangerson returned to his son's
room. "Joseph, my boy, the Ferrier family has agreed that the two of you
would make a fine match. What do you say to that?"

Young Strangerson lifted his head once more. "What do you mean, father?"

"You and Lucy shall be wed, and not a moment should go to waste. The
ceremony can take place tomorrow!"

Realization dawned upon Strangerson now. His eyes grew wide as he leapt
from his repose. Without another word to his father, he ran from the room,
his feet carrying him out into the crepuscular dusk and straight to
Jefferson Hope's house, where he knocked upon the door. At the sight of his
friend returning to him, Hope's heart filled with joy. But he remained on
guard as soon as he saw that Strangerson was panting, clearly worked up
into some extreme emotional state. The two men gazed at one another across
the threshold, each unable to utter a single sentence.

"Come in," said Hope after a short spell. "Pray tell me what is on your
mind, my friend."

Strangerson entered, a cavalcade of pronouncements fighting in his mind. He
wished to tell Hope about his family's plans but the words continuously
failed to reach his tongue. Hope offered him a seat at the kitchen table
and then brought the young man a cup of hot Mormon tea, which helped
invigorate the youth and order his convoluted thoughts.

"I saw you," said Strangerson. "At the river. A few days ago."

Though he immediately understood what Strangerson was referring to, Hope's
reticent face betrayed no emotion. He merely looked at his friend and said
that he had been caught up in a moment of weakness. He told Strangerson to
erase it from his mind.

"If only I could," thought Strangerson, though he knew those images would
forever be burned into the deepest parts of his soul. "There's more," he
said. "I was so overtaken by what I saw that I polluted myself, then and
there."

Hope's feelings went out to the poor boy, so confused and ashamed at his
actions. He wanted to caress his friend's chestnut hair and tell him that
there was nothing unclean about his experience. In fact, it was good and
natural that he should encounter such emotions.

"It is no matter," Hope said. "Place yourself at ease. There are urges that
men can not control."

Strangerson gazed at his friend, who was so wise in his ways. Beneath his
tough exterior, Strangerson knew that Hope harbored a gentle and caring
compassion for the world. Despite his odd manners, the convert was more of
a true Christian than many he'd known in his community.

"And now," said Strangerson, casting his eyes downward, "I am to be wed to
Miss Lucy Ferrier."

Hope winced, as if wounded, but managed to speak in an even voice. "That is
good. Marriage is a great sacrament among your--that is, our people. Are
you not happy?"

Strangerson appeared to be on the verge of tears. "I am quite happy. How
could I be otherwise?"

Seeing his friend's joylessness, Hope reached out and took Strangerson's
hand in his own. The electric touch of their fingers caused a dual twinge
in each man's chest. "It is simply..." stammered Strangerson. "I wish that
I could see the world. It seems to contain such wondrous things, and I have
been confined here to our small corner of life. Tell me, Jeff, tell me
about your adventures elsewhere."

Hope looked away, his eyes falling into shadow. "What would you care to
know?"

Perhaps due to his friend's tender contact, Strangerson felt a demon
beginning to crawl through his body. A rush of blood was working its way
into his lower regions and he was suddenly swept up with a bold
curiosity. "Where did you learn to do that--that thing?" he said. "Touching
yourself, that is."

Hope could have laughed at the naiveté of this Mormon youth. "It is
an action that comes instinctually to all men. In certain places, we are
taught to suppress it but in other societies it is considered a trivial
matter."

This information created bewilderment in Strangerson's brain. "But why did
you engage in such a deed, there on the shoreline?"

This was something Hope had wished not to be asked. But he gave in to his
friend's inquisitiveness. "I was aroused beyond measure. It was not
something I could help."

"Aroused by what? The gentle natural spring?"

Hope could see that there was no use hiding the truth from his friend any
longer. "It was not nature herself that stirred me, but rather the sight of
other men, cavorting and playing with one another in the nude."

"But why should that give you such agitations, my friend?"

"Because that is the manner of my attraction--towards persons of my own
sex."

A bolt of insight so powerful now overtook young Strangerson. It was as if
the sky had broken open above his head, and suddenly he saw the world with
eyes anew. How many times had his friend Hope referred obliquely to some
encounter whose details remained obscure? Why was there always an air of
tension and anticipation when the two of them were together? How was it
that he had he not noticed these things before?

Strangerson released a great exhalation. "How long have you known of this
attraction?"

The convert paused, wondering how much of himself to reveal to the
youth. But there was no use with a masquerade anymore. He decided to tell
Strangerson everything and then quit this city, never to return.

"Since I was a young boy, I have felt the stirring in my loins when with
close male companions. At first, I took the sensation as indication of my
great love and friendship for them but at some point I realized that it
meant more. I became distraught after this recognition, and filled with
anger. Back at home in Chicago, I was a terror, picking fights with other
boys in the street and letting loose great mischief upon the world. My
parent eventually wished to be rid of me, and so I headed out west to seek
my fortune."

"Though a strapping young lad of eighteen, I had no money and no plans and
soon found myself lost in the wilderness, having neglected to plot out a
true course in my journey. It is possible that I simply wished to
obliterate myself and never have to face my terrible feelings. While
disoriented and malnourished in the woods one day, I was saved by a band of
natives, who took me back to their village and accepted me into their
tribe. We call them the Sioux, though among their people they are known as
the Lakota."

"The tribesmen took me to their healer, a hearty person with the build of
an ox who wore the dress of a Lakota woman. As this healer undertook their
ministrations, I came to understand that the shaman was in fact a man, or
rather what the Indians called a winkté--a male who has a compulsion
to behave as a female. His name was Napayshni Matoskah, meaning `courageous
white bear.'"

"Napayshni brought me back from the brink in more ways than one. As I lay
in his teepee, stripped of my clothing, he engaged in some sort of ceremony
to drive out evil spirits, waving a smoking bundle of a local plant over my
body. Napayshni himself wore naught but a loincloth for this particular
ceremony. I must tell you, my friend, that though he was considered womanly
by his tribe, this healer was masculine beyond compare. His legs were thick
and sinewy, his arms bulging with strength. His skin was dark as fertile
loam, his body expansive and brawny, like that of a powerful stag. Looking
at him, I could not help but feel an aching desire in my manhood."

"Napayshni had given me some concoction to help with the healing and the
world around me seemed dreamlike. Through the smoke, he smiled at me with
his beautiful face. His cheeks were sharp as obsidian stones, the braids of
his hair swaying gently as he sang a song of prayer. It was then and there
that I began to fall in love with him."

"The love was clearly more than brotherly for now my organ began to
rise. So entranced was I that at first I did not realize that my implement
had taken on a life of its own. It was only when the straining tug pulled
on my pelvis that I realized how rigid I had become. Embarrassment spread
through my chest, but Napayshni seemed unperturbed. With practiced care, he
spit on his hand and reached forward his arm. His palm encircled my
cockhead and, as he continued singing, he pulled at my stiffness."

"The sensation was rapturous, so overwhelming to me to feel another man
pleasuring my extremity that I gave not even a second thought to doubts or
reservations. Napayshni worked with accomplished grace, sending me into
convulsions of pleasure as his fingers danced over my rigidity. He knew how
to drive me forward toward the erotic edge of orgasm, only to pull back at
the last moment and let my sensual energy recede enough to delay my
outburst. His digits caressed my swollen testes, tenderly rubbing the base
of my shaft and stroking me toward paradisiacal ecstasy."

"His own fervor must have been aroused by these actions for, at one point,
he undid the clasp of the cloth covering his crotch. Out sprang his own
erect implement, towering over my head like a fine oaken club. His piece
was immense, as was befitting a man so large as himself, and the reflexes
of my characters told me what I must do. A voice in my head said simply:
`Allow your desire to overtake you.'"

"The curved dome of his lusciousness slipped past my lips and I was like a
man taking his first taste of whiskey. The flavor was heady and
restorative, with an undertone of salt that somehow mesmerized me and bade
me take him further into my maw. The experienced healer knew precisely how
much of his protuberance he could proffer, filling my mouth with his
hardness but stopping short of rendering things uncomfortable for me. My
own member was inflamed beyond measure by this point, especially as he
continued to stroke it with all his talents and skills."

"My passions were so provoked that I rested my hand on his solid buttocks
and tried to press him further into my throat. I wished for nothing more
than to drink every inch of his dick, to feel it slide in and out of my
fore-end until nothing remained of living beyond this incredible
feeling. Napayshni had unleashed my true nature--that of a cock-hound--and
I had to give in to the desperate cravings that had long remained hidden
within me. The healer laughed at my eagerness and prevented me from
impaling myself too far. After some continued stimulation, he began to
issue sounds that made me understand an offering was on its way."

"As he tugged at my tool, Napayshni thrust his pelvis back and forth over
my head, driving his enormity into my oral compartment. Entranced, I
accepted the incursion, all the while feeling the bliss radiate from both
my engorged instrument and my overstuffed face. Perhaps the concoction
Napayshni fed me had heightened my awareness but it seemed as if my entire
body were filled with light, a warm and cleansing glow that flashed with
every color of the spectrum. From somewhere above me, I heard the healer
grunt and out of his implement a bountiful cascade of intoxicating semen
burst forth. I swallowed every drop of his potency, the pungent taste of
his nectar driving me to new heights of ardor."

"I came and came and came, issuing more ejaculatory fluid than I had ever
or since, the warm mass inundating the two of us with its creamy
spray. Napayshni fished his gigantic implement from my mouth and brought
his body down next to mine. While whispering sweet indecipherable
pronouncements in my ear, he hugged me close with his bear-like embrace,
the curative intimacy changing me forever."

Here Hope stopped his narrative and looked up at his friend Strangerson,
whose eyes were lit with a bright flame of candlelight. Though his heart
beat fast in his chest, the convert felt utterly becalmed, as if a great
weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He knew now that it did not
matter what reaction he received, the telling of the tale had already been
restorative to his constitution.

Strangerson licked his lips, his spirit a whirl of conflicting
emotions. "Please," he said, "tell me what happened next."

Startled, Hope wondered how his friend had known that there was more to
this story. But seeing that Strangerson would not be satisfied to end
things here, he began again to speak of his time with the Lakotas.

"Napayshni continued to practice his healing arts upon me, both of the
conventional and the masculine variety and soon I was quite
rehabilitated. The two of us spent a great deal of time alone in his
teepee. He allowed me to indulge in his dick as often as I cared, my
abilities at swallowing his immensity growing with each passing day. He
took me into his own mouth as well, and I learned the pleasure of being
sucked by a knowledgeable practitioner of male passion. He was caring and
open-hearted and though we shared no common language, I felt as close to
him as any man."

"The Indians accepted me into their tribe without question, teaching me how
to hunt and survive as they did upon the plains. They dressed me in their
clothes and let me partake in their ceremonies. I picked up a rudimentary
understanding of their tongue, which brought me closer to Napayshni as well
as his people. Of our relationship no one seemed bothered. In fact, it
appeared to be the most natural sort of thing among the Lakota, that a man
and another man could be lovers. With Napayshni occupying the role of a
winkté, the tribesmen considered me to be the masculine one, despite
the fact that my companion was clearly larger and more strongly-built than
me."

"My bodily explorations with Napayshni never went farther than oral
inducements, though I knew in theory that there were other actions we could
engage in. But I was too shy to ask and Napayshni seemed to be waiting for
something, some maturity within me that I had yet to master."

"One night as I returned from a hunt with the other warriors, I opened the
flap to Napayshni's teepee and found a shocking sight. Another white man
was within, thrusting himself into Napayshni. The stranger donned the hat
and bandana of a cowboy but was otherwise entirely nude. He wore a wooly
beard and his chest was bursting with burly chest hairs, his proportions as
thick and well-developed as Napayshni's, who crouched on his hands and
knees beneath the man. The two of them howled with effort and pleasure."

"The cowboy seemed further fueled by my appearance, his rollicking
insertions and exertions picking up pace until he cried ecstatically and
emptied his ejaculate into my companion. The fluid must have been abundant
as it crowded Napayshni's compartment and came dripping out his aperture
onto the floor. It seemed that the Indian had already come, as the
saturation mingled with a dollop of white material that was beneath the two
men. The cowboy kissed and thanked Napayshni, tipping his hat as he strode
past me and out into the cool night air, his hide as bare as the skins
covering the tent."

"A hot sting of discomfort filled my breast. Though I didn't know it at the
time, this was the emotion known as jealousy. I ran from the teepee before
Napayshni could rouse from his orgasmic state, seeking succor in the wild
night. With tears in my eyes, I lay upon the grass and gazed up at the soft
light of the moon. Soon, I heard a voice crying my name--it was Napayshni
searching for me. He stood over me and asked if I would return with him to
the tent, so that he could render an explanation for what had just
occurred."

"Though I wished he would leave me alone, so great was my love for
Napayshni that I agreed to follow his lead. Alone in his teepee once more,
my companion tried to clarify several things to me. He said he had met the
cowboy many years ago and that the man passed through the village from time
to time. Napayshni enjoyed his company and his cock, and told me he had
several other lovers, including a Frenchmen trapper, a Russian merchant,
and even Indians from different tribes. He tried to explain the complexity
of these interdependent relationships but our mutual vocabulary was not up
to the task of what he wished to convey."

"Seeing that I was still unsatisfied, he took my hand and looked into my
eyes. `I have a great amount of love,' he said. `And, for me, love must be
free.'"

"At this, I broke down and began once again to cry. I pressed my face into
his chest as he hugged me close with his great arms. I told him I had a
great deal of love as well, and that I wished him all the happiness he
wanted. I understood that the manner and immensity of his love meant he
could never be contained by one person. I merely hoped he could share it
with me."

"Napayshni smiled and said that he certainly loved me more than the
rest. But he had been wary of letting me get too close to him for he knew
that these other lovers would eventually come calling and that he would
have to explain his complex circumstances to me. He had been unsure how I
would react to the news."

"'Is that why we have not yet engaged in the practice that you did with
that other man?' I asked."

"Napayshni nodded. `Yes,' he said. `I thought you might not be ready for
it.'"

"I gazed back at him, feeling a tight squeeze in the inner parts of my
buttocks. `I am ready,' I said."

"Lust now made itself known in the form of a swelling at my crotch. In my
mind, I knew that I wanted nothing more than to practice the labors I had
witnessed earlier between Napayshni and the cowboy. The idea of my
companion's large cock stroking its way inside me seemed among the most
inciting scenes I could imagine. Seeing my desire, Napayshni pulled me down
on the soft furs of his bed and soon we cooed together naked, each of our
virilities rising as our limbs entwined in a delicate embrace."

"We rolled around together in love, our growing attraction more evident by
the minute. Napayshni licked my earlobes and my neck. He brought his mouth
down upon one of my nipples, causing me to throw my head back with a
beatific cry. My hands caressed the contours of his hips, his abdomen, and
his chest, each sturdy muscle pulsing with energy. Our bodies rubbed
against one another in procreative passion and Napayshni took both our
hardnesses into his hand, squeezing our dicks together in his palm."

"The fricative pleasure of my largest erogenous zone pressed against his
was a marvelous sensation. Our cockheads poked out from their respective
foreskins, dripping with pre-ejaculatory fluid, appearing and disappearing
like prairie dogs on the plains. I marveled that Napayshni was already
stiff again after having been so recently with another and swelled at the
sight of his enormous appendage. While kissing and holding me close,
Napayshni reached around with his other hand and delicately pressed a
finger on my trembling pucker. He bade me do the same to him and I acceded,
my palm hugging one of his rugged buttocks as my fingertips brushed against
his hole. In a husky voice, Napayshni urged me to apply greater
pressure. Without warning, the end of my longest digit slipped into his
still-wet compartment."

"My eyes bulged at this surprise, though Napayshni seemed to have expected
it. As he continued grinding our implements together, he twitched open and
closed his rearmost aperture, allowing my finger to slip in and out. I
realized that he was showing me with his body what to do with my
own. Feeling the force of his hand on my sphincter, I tried to follow his
lead, though it seemed easier to tighten rather than loosen the
ring. Napayshni laughed and kissed me again, telling me it would take
practice to master these motions."

"He now took some of the seminal fluid issuing from our instruments and
smeared it on his fingers. With one hand, he pried apart my butt cheeks and
rested his other hand upon my constricted pucker. The lubrication seemed to
ease his ingress and this time I was able to relax the requisite amount for
his digit to dive a short way into my antechamber. An electric thrill
coursed through my hips, causing the rate of leaking from my engorged
cockhead to increase considerably. Napayshni understood that I had achieved
an important milestone, giggling and hugging me close to his chiseled
physique. He instructed me to push my finger deeper inside him, which I did
so rather easily. His compartment had after all been recently stretched by
another man's dick and this thought bountifully multiplied my passion."

"My finger slowly disappeared into his snug vestibule, and with each inch
he followed my lead by incurring his digit slightly farther inside
me. There was a slight pinprick of pain as he did so but Napayshni was a
healer--he would not allow me to experience discomfort from his backdoor
explorations. He paused whenever I cried out, reaching to re-lubricate his
hand with our sensual emanations. Quite soon, I was rather loosened and he
was able to slide his finger in and out of my slot with remarkable
effortlessness, the exotic sensation pushing me to incredible new vistas of
delight."

"Napayshni now rolled atop me, his weighty frame pressing down on mine with
a pleasant pressure. He shifted about, reaching over to a calabash sitting
by his bed. This vessel contained a natural emollient that he used in his
shamanic arts but which also served another purpose. After pouring out a
glob of the slick material upon his palm, he placed his hand on his
aperture and stuck one of his fingers into his slit, moaning as he did
so. My own finger was still lodged inside him and our combined efforts
succeeded in stretching his sphincter further than before. I did not
understand the purpose of this action, telling him that I wished for him to
enter me."

"He looked down at me and winked. `Soon, my love.'"

"Napayshni crouched over me, his muscled legs as sturdy as tree trunks. He
squatted down into a low position, aiming my stiff instrument straight
upward. My engorged erection sank swiftly into the mountainous mounds of
his rump, entering the inviting crack and quickly disappearing into his
enchanting opening. The radiating sensations, so novel and delightful,
nearly overwhelmed me with their infinite blessedness. I grunted and
shouted without regard to anything else, feeling like a man experiencing
the holiest of holies. Napayshni accommodated my article with adept
fluency, driving himself all the way down until I was fully inside him."

"Though he the penetrated one, Napayshni was completely in control of our
sexual session, bouncing up and down on my dick and howling with utter
abandon, his body beautiful and divine. The experience of my member sliding
in and out of his tight pucker was incredible while the sight of his
gigantic cock springing about and leaking a steady stream of fluid brought
me to untamed vistas of delight. This was apparently Napayshni's intention
for he stopped just before I reached my orgasm and pulled his body off
mine."

"Returning to my side, he smeared his hand in unguent and easily slipped a
finger inside me. His amatory actions had served to inflame my passions to
a burning pitch and my rear was now rather relaxed as a consequence. His
declared me ready to receive his grand implement. I was in such a frenzied
state that I could hardly process his words, entreating him to just fuck me
already."

"Napayshni covered his enormity in lubricant and cupped my buttocks with
his steady palms. While crouching below me, he pulled up my hips and then
slowly lowered them down over his crotch. Remembering the training he had
just given me, I unfastened my aperture just as his member touched the
responsive opening. His colossal cockhead began to stretch my pucker. The
sensation of my hole giving way to his enormous member is one that I will
relish for the remainder of my life. I still bring it to mind when
pleasuring myself alone at night."

"My compartment accommodated Napayshni's rigid titan like a sheath slipping
over a steel implement. As his article lodged its way into my inner
recesses, my awareness slipped into a condition that words can scarcely
describe. I seemed to float above my own body, watching the sexual
proceedings and their beautiful effect upon me. Napayshni's burly frame
filled the room with its power, caressing me, stretching me, driving into
me, and stuffing me with his virility. Out of my dick a geyser of semen
unexpectedly erupted."

"Napayshni's eyes widened at this fluidic display and he asked if I was
alright. Returning now to my normal state of mind, I nodded my head and
told him to please continue. I could see the arousal in his expression as
he raised an impressed eyebrow and began to buck like a wild stallion. My
pliant hole easily took his uninhibited hammering and I became suffused
with erotic contentment. I had mastered these masculine arts rather
quickly, and I knew that for the rest of my days I would require an
agreeable companion who could give to me what Napayshni was giving."

"His titanic implement dove in and out of my aperture, causing my own
member to rise once again. Napayshni's broad chest pressed against mine as
he came forward to kiss me, raising my legs high into the air. Changing the
angle of his delightful ingresses also seemed to cause a doubling of its
ecstatic effect. I didn't know it then but Napayshni was hitting my
prostate, a sensitive button inside every man's tunnel that can greatly
multiply his pleasure. I cried with joy and locked my legs around his back,
petitioning him to pound me ever more."

"My sweat-covered partner now conducted an acrobatic act, scooping me up in
his arms as he drew himself into a standing position. He cradled my
buttocks as I wrapped my hands around his neck, feeling his massive cock
drive into my exposed pucker while I uttering euphoric declarations. To be
entirely under his control as he directed his erection into me was an
incredible inducement toward ever higher realms of pleasure. Napayshni
grunted like a warrior, his athletic prowess evident at each turn of our
carnal session."

"Seeing how stimulated I was, he next took me down on the ground, bidding
me to crouch on my hands and knees while he slammed into me from behind. He
sent the thick pole of his appendage deep into my eager slot, plunging all
the way down to his base before withdrawing completely. The momentary
vacancy caused me to inhale with unbridled delight, followed by the
stunning sensation of Napayshni re-stretching my aperture with his
considerable member. I pressed my face down to the furs on the floor,
arching my butt high into the air to facilitate his actions. At some point,
he slipped himself fully inside me again, held onto my back, and used the
leverage to pound my pucker with formidable force."

"Scooping an arm under my chest, Napayshni pulled me towards him and kissed
me as he continued his incursions. With his other hand, he reached around
and slipped his clenched fist over my implement. Each gyration of his hips
now pulled my sensitive foreskin down over my cockhead, provoking my
passions and causing my eyes to roll backwards like a man under the
influence of some wonderful enchantment. The symphonic sensation was too
much for me and, then and there, I came again, achieving an orgasm that
caused my entire being to shudder to its core."

"The twitching of my compartment must have been too much for Napayshni, for
now he lowed like a bison and began to shoot into my vestibule. He thrust
farther than before as the copious ejaculate engulfed my antechamber with
its flood of bliss. I could feel his emanations dribbling out and down my
leg. After six or seven pulses, he completed his amatory operation and
collapsed his bulk down atop me. I fell asleep with his arms wrapped tight
around me."

Strangerson glared at his companion, feeling that a new connection had
grown between them. His buttocks were slick with sweat inside his pants and
his erection had been straining against the fabric throughout Hope's
detailed description. He asked his friend what became of his relationship
with Napayshni.

"We eventually went our separate ways," said Hope, his eyes downcast in
remembrance. "It was for the best. He was a singular man and I needed to
explore love beyond the confines of the tribe."

Seeing the effect of this painful recollection on his dear friend's face,
Strangerson came forward. He stroked Hope's stubbled cheek with a finger,
causing Hope to look up in his eyes. A moment of high tension strung
between the two of them.

Hope drove himself upright and brought his lips to Strangerson's, who
received the tender kiss. The men embraced one another tightly, giving in
to their mutual desires, finally let loose from rigid social conventions. A
fearful emotion pressed in Strangerson's breast--the worry of what his
Mormon family would think. But the dread was soon buried beneath the
realization that, no matter what happened next, he would never be able to
relinquish Hope again. For his part, Hope swelled with happiness that he
and his best friend were able to show one another the true depth of their
love.

Strangerson hugged his frame against Hope's, wishing that by force he could
almost merge the two of them together. He wanted to feel every inch of his
friend's physique against his own. The thrilling sensation of Hope's body
even through his clothing was already a greater joy than the young Mormon
had heretofore experienced in his life. Hope's lips against his as they
pressed together their faces was a tangible reminder that such contact was
among the greatest parts of human existence.

"Please," said Strangerson. "I want to feel you."

Hope could have smiled at this endearing entreaty. Though Strangerson's
words were as yet immature, he knew what his companion desired. As he
continued kissing his friend, he began to undo the buckles of both of their
belts. Within seconds, their pants and underwear were around their ankles,
and their members each sprang free. Strangerson gasped when Hope's rigid
erection smacked against his bare thigh, a phenomenon he could have
scarcely imagined happening just a few short days ago.

Hope now took a firm grasp of Strangerson's knob and gave the head a gentle
squeeze. He wanted to ease his companion into this new world of male
lovemaking, so as not to cause him too much bewilderment at his earliest
experience. Based on the rapid intakes of breath coming from the young
Mormon, his actions were greeted successfully. Strangerson felt a pulsating
warm spread from his stiffened instrument into his body and his reflexes
bade him forward for another soft kiss from his friend. His own hand curled
around Hope's tool--how its weight and magnitude felt in his palm!--and
mimicked the movements of his companion.

Freed from their constraints, the two men took to caressing each other's
bare buttocks, running their hands up one another's backs, and pressing
their legs together earnestly. Their existence became a riot of touch and
smell and taste as they took to exploring their bodies with every extremity
they could press into service. Hope moved around his young friend's frame
and embraced him from behind. His hardened implement slipped comfortably
between Strangerson's rounded butt cheeks and he heard his companion give a
cry of surprise and delight.

Still wishing not to move to fast and yet desperately needing to give in to
his long-held yearning, Hope dropped to his knees and began to lick
Strangerson's downy rear. He heard whimpering come from his friend and
decided to proceed. With his tongue, he ran a line up and down
Strangerson's tender crack, stoking the virgin's desires. Strangerson felt
his head awhirl with unbelievable passion, which only grew stronger when
Hope's lingual exploration served to sever apart his cheeks and the
convert's tongue came to rest atop his aching aperture.

The two men paused here, each scarcely believing the reality of their
positions. Hope could have never explained to Strangerson at a point
earlier in their friendship that the stimulation of one man's hole with
another man's tongue was a suitable exploit. Strangerson would certainly
have balked at the suggestion. The Mormon youth had never dreamed that such
a feat would bring a man satisfaction and assuredly not the profuse
pleasure that was currently radiating from his posterior. His pucker
twitched with uncontrollable delight as the wet stimulus licked its way
around his delicate orifice.

Hope could feel his friend's emanating desire, taking great care to work
slowly and methodically on Strangerson's rear. He nuzzled his nose between
the bouncing butt-cheeks, snaking his tongue from the base of the Mormon's
bullocks to the top curve of his backend and then repeating the action with
zeal. Strangerson grunted from the effort, feeling his pucker loosening and
giving way to Hope's probing tongue. Hope managed to slip his explorations
a short way into his friend's delectable channel, savoring the elated cries
issuing from Strangerson's mouth.

"You should fuck me," Strangerson whispered, surprising them both. Hope
came up and kissed his companion's neck, telling the youth that such an act
was not to be entered into lightly. It took practice and care, even with
experience.

But Strangerson was resolute. Having listened to his friend's back and
forth regarding Napayshni, he felt that he could accommodate a short
trial--the scandalous actions of men and the pleasure they could bring was
all he could think about now. Hope was rather enflamed himself and did not
take too long deliberating in his mind before deciding that feeling
Strangerson's sphincter slowly swallowing his stiffened tool would not be a
bad sensation.

Hope got back on his knees and pressed his tongue once again to
Strangerson's hole. Between licks he explained that the Mormon's aperture
would need to be properly stimulated before it could be induced to partake
in the activities they both desired. Feeling himself unravel, Strangerson
accepted the blissful encouragement. Hope's incredible tongue was certainly
not a bad precursor to the main event. As the convert continued,
Strangerson sensed a change coming over him--no longer would he be a timid
child. Today, he was becoming a full-grown man.

After the requisite motivating period, Hope rose and grabbed a bottle of
olive oil from his kitchen cabinet. He returned to find Strangerson bent
over the kitchen table, proudly displaying his aching opening like a wanton
prostitute. Strangerson had slipped two fingers into his slit, pumping them
back and forth to show his friend how amenable he would be to their sexual
encounter. The sight fueled Hope's cravings to a feverish level and he
quickly dolloped his dick with lubrication.

Hope looked down at Strangerson's arse as he tapped his instrument upon the
eager crack. He was overcome with the thought that he was about to be
fucking his best friend, here after years of pent up longing. Arching his
butt in the air, Strangerson knew that they were about to embark on an
excursion that would last forever. He was in love with Hope and no one else
would ever provide him the same passion.

Hope leaned down and kissed his companion's back as he aimed his cockhead
at the tight access point. It gave way with nary a moment's
hesitation. Strangerson felt his aperture open up to the delightful
pleasure of his friend's hard rod, its bountiful proportions sliding into
him with ease. He cried with elation as Hope coaxed inch after inch deeper
inside his virgin cavity. Hope could scarcely believe how obliging the
young Mormon's compartment was, and he moaned with unrestrained
gratification. Instinctively, he began to buck back and forth.

The two men did what came to them naturally, their erotic display one
enjoyed by men since time immemorial. Stangerson, the penetrated one, felt
his body opening into a higher realm of spiritual satisfaction as his
friend's considerable implement slid in and out of his tight chute. Hope
conducted his actions with expert ability, making sure that his incursions
satisfied his companion's innermost cravings, rubbing his engorged cockhead
against the point of Strangerson's prostate, causing both of them to moan
and grunt like wild dogs.

But even if their noisy session had not been audible well across town, it
was unfortunately doomed from the start. For the neighbors had seen young
Strangerson enter the house hours earlier and, suspicious, had alerted the
relevant authorities. At that moment, Strangerson's parents had gathered at
Hope's doorway with the other elders of the city. Hearing the terrifying
din within, the crowd clustered at the door and forced it from its
hinges. The sight before them nearly caused a riot.

Shocked, embarrassed, and utterly destroyed, Hope and Strangerson could do
nothing to hide the tryst they were now engaged in. Hope tried to think of
an explanation but knew there was nothing that could be believable. The
Mormon's parent grabbed their son and pulled him from beneath his
lover. Tears slid down Strangerson's face as he struggled against the
townspeople, his arms reaching out to Hope, who strained to hold onto his
friend.

"Joseph!" Hope cried.

Once, Strangerson had been dragged away, his father turned to Hope. "You
pervert," he shouted at the convert, who had fallen into a despondent heap
on the floor.

"I'm sorry," said Hope between ragged sobs. "Just let me tell him that I'm
sorry."

The elder Strangerson spit on him. "You will never see my son again."

*****

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