Date: Sun, 7 Jan 2024 15:06:20 -0600
From: Cullen Coleman <colemanfarms88@gmail.com>
Subject: The Heart of Tarzan, Chapter 2

This work is entirely fictional and all characters, including Tarzan, are
not based on any real people or events. While the character of Tarzan,
originally created by Edgar Rice Burroughs, is in the public domain, it
should be noted that the Tarzan name and related trademarks are owned by
the Edgar Rice Burroughs, Inc. corporation. This narrative is a creative,
independent interpretation and not affiliated with the corporation. I
appreciate feedback or constructive criticism of my writing directly at
colemanfarms88@gmail.com. Also if you can, please support Nifty and all
their endeavours. Please use this link to donate:
https://donate.nifty.org/.

-------

In the early morning hours of daylight, James arose, naked and filled
with ecstasy from the night before with his father. "I can't wait to
see what happens next. Yesterday was such a tumultuous day but it ended
with such passion and love. I am in heaven!" he thought to himself as he
got up from the spot in the cave against his father to go pee. His cock
hard pressing against his leg as it needed to be released. The fire that
his father, Alex, made for them prior to them making love was slowly
still crackling and his father was asleep by the fire. By now, the sun
was beginning to peak out amidst pink and orange clouds. The jungle not a
mere few feet away from the entrance of the cave was beginning to burst
alive with sounds of various monkeys chattering in the trees, small
colorful birds flitting around and making noise; their numerous caws and
chirps made James curious. As for now, he had to relieve himself. He
proceeded to walk down to the beach and find a seemingly quiet spot and
piss. The thick warm yellow liquid poured out of his 7-inch cut cock.
Even as a bottom, he had a beautiful cock. Growing up, from the young age
of 9, he noticed he had a pretty cock and loved to rub it along with
other boys his age; his little boyhood in his hands fascinated him and
brought him great pleasure. As he was pissing, he heard a thunderous yell
and snapped back to reality- a yell he had never heard from any animal
before. This yell was mighty. It was louder than any roar from a lion or
bear. Unknown to him, this yell belonged to Tarzan, the King of the
jungle.

As the first rays of dawn filtered through the dense jungle canopy,
Tarzan awoke in his lofty treehouse. The new day's light caressed his
well-defined, muscular frame, highlighting each curve and contour of his
powerfully built body. His skin, bronzed and gleaming from the sun's
kiss, stretched taut over rippling muscles, a testament to his life
amidst nature's challenges. Clad only in a simple loincloth, which
fluttered slightly in the gentle morning breeze, Tarzan stood up with a
fluid grace that belied his imposing stature. His broad shoulders and
well-sculpted arms, symbols of his strength and agility, moved with a
predator's ease. His chest, a wide expanse of solid muscle, rose and
fell rhythmically as he took in the fresh, earthy air of the jungle. In a
ritual as old as time, Tarzan let out a thunderous yell. The sound, raw
and powerful, rolled across the vast jungle, awakening its many
inhabitants. It was a call that resonated with authority and dominion, a
reminder to all who heard it of who ruled this green kingdom. With a
series of ceremonial beats on his chest, each thump resonating like a
drumbeat of the wild, Tarzan's presence was affirmed. His arms, sinewy
and strong, created a rhythm that vibrated through the lush greenery
around him. As he stretched, each muscle in his body flexed and relaxed
in a harmonious display of physical prowess. His legs, sturdy and
capable, were rooted firmly on the branch, showcasing his readiness to
leap into action at a moment's notice. The jungle responded to its king,
the cacophony of wildlife sounds rising to meet the challenge of a new
day. Tarzan, standing tall and resolute, his physique a masterpiece of
natural strength, was ready to reign over his kingdom once again, the
undisputed lord of the jungle. He then took one last big breath before
clasping onto the nearest vine and started to swing through the trees to
find some luscious fruit for breakfast and take toll over his domain.

Meanwhile, on the serene yet unfamiliar shores of the Congo, James Parker
returned from the beach, his heart heavy with the burden of their
shipwrecked plight. The sight that greeted him upon his return struck him
like a physical blow. There lay his father, sprawled on his back, a
frightening stillness about him. Blood trickled ominously from his ears,
painting a stark contrast against his pale skin.  Panic surged through
James's veins as he rushed to his father's side, his mind racing through
the medical training he had acquired. But nothing had prepared him for
this--a potential stroke, far from civilization, with no medical supplies
or hope for rescue. He desperately started CPR, each compression a silent
plea for a miracle, each breath he gave a whisper of hope against the
overwhelming odds. His hands, though steady in an operating room,
trembled in this life-and-death struggle. Sweat beaded on his forehead,
mixing with the tears that blurred his vision. He knew the chances were
slim, but he couldn't--wouldn't--give up. Not on his father, the man who
had been his mentor, his newfound lover- his guiding star.

But as minutes stretched into an eternity, the cruel truth dawned on
James. His father was beyond his help. His teacher, protector, and anchor
in life, gone. Despair enveloped him, a crushing wave of grief and
helplessness. Unseen by James, Tarzan watched silently from his hidden
vantage point, his keen eyes observing the tragic scene. He remained
motionless, a silent sentinel amidst the foliage, his presence unknown to
the grieving son. Tarzan, though a master of his domain, felt a stir of
empathy for the young man. In the raw pain and desperation etched on
James's face, Tarzan recognized the universal sorrow of loss.

The jungle around them seemed to hold its breath, a moment of mourning
for the fallen man.

An hour had passed, the sun climbing higher in the sky, as James's sobs
gradually subsided into quiet, grief-stricken acceptance. He sat there,
beside his father Alex, feeling the weight of his loss and the harsh
reality of their situation. The vulnerability of their position struck
him with sudden clarity--the jungle was not just a backdrop to their
tragedy, but a living, breathing world filled with dangers, including
predators like leopards.

With a heavy heart, James understood what he had to do next. He couldn't
leave his father exposed to the unforgiving elements of the wild, or
worse, to become prey to a roaming predator. It was a grim thought, the
kind that gnaws at the edges of one's sanity, but James knew he had no
choice. He had to bury his father. Gathering his strength, both physical
and emotional, James set about the solemn task. He looked around for a
suitable spot, one that felt right for a final resting place. It needed
to be close enough to manage alone, yet far enough to keep any potential
threats at bay. Selecting a spot under the shade of a large tree, he
began to dig with whatever makeshift tools he could find--pieces of
driftwood, his bare hands, stones. The work was grueling, and the
tropical heat showed no mercy. Sweat poured down his face, mixing with
the lingering tears, each shovel of earth a testament to his love and
respect for his father. As he worked, the sounds of the jungle continued
around him, a reminder that life persisted in all its relentless forms.
Meanwhile, Tarzan watched from his concealed position, his expression one
of solemn respect for the young man's resolve. In the face of such
adversity, James's determination to honor his father spoke to something
deep within Tarzan, a recognition of the sacred bonds of family and the
duty one owes to their kin, no matter the cost. As James finished his
solemn task, he stood back, breathless, and exhausted, looking at the
mound of earth that now marked his father's final resting place. It was a
simple grave for a man who had lived a life of adventure and discovery, a
silent tribute in the vastness of the Congo. In this moment, James was no
longer just a scientist; he had become a survivor, tempered by the
unforgiving realities of the wild.

The moment of solace, a brief interlude in the heart of the Congo
wilderness, was shattered in an instant. Without warning, the notorious
predator of the jungle, the leopard Sabor, emerged with a startling
agility from the dense canopy above. Its menacing growl, a sound that
spelled danger to every creature in the jungle, echoed through the air,
freezing James in a moment of sheer terror. Instinct took over. James
didn't pause to think; every fiber of his being screamed at him to run,
to escape the deadly threat that loomed so close. His heart pounded in
his chest, adrenaline surged through his veins as he bolted away from his
father's grave, away from the snarling leopard. He ran with reckless
abandon, dodging trees and leaping over underbrush, the sounds of the
jungle a blur around him. His only thought was survival, to put as much
distance as possible between himself and Sabor. The leopard, a master
predator, was not just a threat but a symbol of the raw, unforgiving
nature of the wild. As James sprinted through the dense foliage, the
reality of his situation hit him with brutal force. He was alone,
unprepared, and now hunted in an environment that was as beautiful as it
was dangerous. His breath came in ragged gasps, his muscles ached, but
fear propelled him forward. Unseen by either James or the leopard, Tarzan
observed the chase with a mixture of concern and understanding. The
jungle was his home, and he knew its laws well--the merciless dance of
predator and prey. Yet, something in him stirred at the sight of James, a
stranger in his world, now running for his life. At that moment, Tarzan
had to make a choice. Would he intervene and alter the natural course of
life in the jungle, or would he remain a silent witness to the
unforgiving law of nature? The decision was not just about the fate of
James but about the delicate balance of the wild itself.

As James lay at the bottom of the trap, his heart pounding with fear, he
suddenly witnessed a sight that left him in utter amazement. From the
dense foliage above, a figure emerged, unlike anyone he had ever seen--a
wild man, his body a tapestry of muscle and sinew, moving with a
confidence and power that seemed to defy the laws of nature. This was
Tarzan, though James had no knowledge of him or his legendary status in
the jungle. Tarzan stood at the edge of the trap, his eyes fixed intently
on the menacing leopard, Sabor. With a knife gripped firmly in his hand,
he was the picture of primal ferocity and readiness. But what happened
next was truly astonishing. Tarzan began to beat his chest, creating a
deep, resonant sound that echoed through the jungle, a clear challenge to
the beast before them. Then, he did something even more remarkable. He
started to mimic the sounds of Sabor, producing growls and snarls so
accurate they seemed to belong to the leopard itself. It was a display of
deep, instinctual understanding of the wild, a communication of sorts
that was both threatening and mesmerizing. James, from his precarious
position in the trap, watched in stunned silence. He had never seen
anything like this--a man, wild and untamed, seemingly speaking the
language of a beast. Tarzan's presence, his command over the situation,
was both terrifying and awe-inspiring. The way he confronted Sabor, not
with fear but with an almost brotherly understanding of the animal's
nature, was something beyond James's comprehension. The standoff between
Tarzan and the leopard was a spectacle of primal power, a testament to
the raw and untamed spirit of the jungle. For James, this was more than a
rescue; it was a window into a world he had never imagined, where the
lines between man and beast blurred into something extraordinary.  In a
moment of cunning, Sabor, the leopard, shifted his predatory focus. With
a powerful lunge, he deceived Tarzan, leaping not at the wild man but
over him, diving straight into the pit where James lay. The beast, agile
and silent, slinked forward, its eyes locked on James, growling
menacingly, its teeth bared and drool dripping from its jaws. James,
frozen in terror, could only watch as the embodiment of his nightmares
approached. But Tarzan, ever vigilant and swift, was not one to be easily
outmaneuvered. In a flash, he leaped into the pit after Sabor, landing
with a thud that echoed in the confined space. He positioned himself
between James and the ferocious leopard, ready to defend the young
scientist with his life. What followed was a battle of primal fury.

Tarzan, despite his strength and agility, was pitted against a creature
designed for the kill. The two clashed, a whirlwind of snarls, growls,
and the clash of flesh and fur. Tarzan fought with a ferocity born of the
jungle, each move a testament to his years of survival among its
deadliest predators. In a desperate attempt to overpower Tarzan, Sabor
lunged for his neck, a move that could have been fatal. But Tarzan's
reflexes were lightning-fast. He dodged the deadly jaws, though not
completely unscathed. Sabor's claws found their mark, slicing through
Tarzan's right shoulder and bicep, drawing blood and leaving a raw wound.
Ignoring the pain, Tarzan seized the moment. With a swift, decisive
motion, he plunged his knife into Sabor, ending the struggle. The big cat
fell dead, its body collapsing in a heap, the threat extinguished. James,
witnessing the ferocious fight, was paralyzed with fear. Even with the
leopard dead, he couldn't shake the terror that gripped him. He had just
seen the rawest form of nature's struggle, life and death played out in
front of his eyes. Tarzan, bleeding and breathing heavily, turned his
gaze to James. In that moment, James saw not just a wild man of the
jungle, but a protector, a being who had just saved his life at great
personal risk. The reality of the jungle, its brutality and beauty, had
never been clearer to James than in that breathtaking moment. Swiftly and
deftly, Tarzan untied and freed James from the trap, immediately hoisting
him over his shoulder. Before James could fully process his rescue, they
were soaring through the air, Tarzan expertly swinging from vine to vine
above the jungle canopy. The sensation was dizzying, a wild flight
through the treetops that blurred the line between fear and awe.

As they made their escape, the angered Waziri tribesmen gave chase,
hurling spears in their direction. Tarzan, with remarkable agility,
navigated through the jungle, evading each attack with a masterful
precision. The perilous journey was a whirlwind of adrenaline and
instinct, a testament to Tarzan's unparalleled skills in his natural
domain.

Finally, they reached the safety of Tarzan's treehouse. In one fluid
motion, Tarzan flung James onto a bed in the corner of the massive room,
the suddenness of the action leaving James momentarily disoriented. He
lay there, his heart still racing from the morning's harrowing events --
the loss of his father, the attack by the leopard, and now this
miraculous escape with the enigmatic Tarzan.

Surrounded by the unfamiliar confines of the treehouse, high above the
jungle floor, James was consumed by a mix of terror and disbelief. The
reality of his situation was overwhelming; in just one morning, his world
had been turned upside down. He was far from the scientific expeditions
he was accustomed to, thrust into a raw and untamed world where survival
was the only priority. As James lay on the bed, still trying to catch his
breath and process the morning's terrifying events, he was unaware of
Tarzan's approach. Tarzan moved towards him, not with the predatory gait
of Sabor, but with a sense of curiosity that was sensual, erotic. He
moved on all fours to the bed and leapt on top of James, sitting at the
edge of the bed. James reached out to the wild man and was amazed at his
muscular stature; Tarzan encouraged him to touch him. James' frail and
small hands caressed over the impressive chest of the jungle lord and
stopped at Tarzan's right shoulder and bicep-Tarzan winced with pain,
the first time James saw any human emotion come from Tarzan. As James
reached out tentatively, his fingers came across the raw wounds inflicted
by Sabor during their earlier battle. The sight of the injuries snapped
James back to his professional reality, overcoming his initial shock. He
stammered, "I have to help you since you helped me. I'm a doctor. I can
heal your wound."

This offer to help was more than a professional reflex; it was an
acknowledgment of the debt he owed Tarzan for saving his life. Despite
his unfamiliarity with the jungle and its dangers, James found himself
relying on his medical training, the one aspect of his former life that
remained relevant in this wild new world. Tarzan, understanding the
intent if not the words, allowed James to inspect his injuries. For
James, this was a moment to regain a sense of purpose and control, to
give back to the mysterious figure who had dramatically altered the
course of his fate. James got off the bed and searched the treehouse for
anything; he astonishingly found a bottle of rubbing alcohol that looked
as old as Tarzan. He dusted it off and tore off a piece of his shirt,
dousing it in the liquid and pressing against the dried bloody flesh.
Tarzan gritted his teeth in pain. His chocolate hair flung over his
shoulders as he moved his head forward and he let out a small "Ouch!"
-"Can you understand me?" asked James. Tarzan slightly nodded. James
pressed his palm on Tarzan's chest, its small shape nothing in
comparison to the muscle man's massive figure. With a puff of courage in
his chest, James introduced himself, "I'm James. James Parker."
"I am Tarzan", stated Tarzan. He beat one hand on his chest when he
introduced himself to James. "It's nice to meet you Tarzan, th..thank
you for saving me today. I can't begin to say that enou- ", before
James could finish his sentence, Tarzan walked forward to James, them
both now standing closer and closer and to James' surprise, Tarzan
grabbed James by his scrawny shoulders and took his right hand to the
back of his head and brought him in for a kiss. A deep sensual kiss.
James could feel the wild man moaning in pleasure and his tongue
exploring James' mouth. James leaned into the kiss and grabbed onto the
muscular back of Tarzan. By now, Tarzan's loincloth was tented by his
massive 11-inch cock. James began to rub it. Tarzan knew what he was
doing; he had seen this before growing up among his ape family, but he
had never been able to act upon it. He knew at first glance in the
treetop canopy that he wanted to feel the scrawny feminine body of James
against his masculine figure. James was in euphoria. It was now that he
guided Tarzan back to the bed in the treehouse and Tarzan then growled at
him, tearing away at what clothes remained on his little twink body.
Without thinking, Tarzan grabbed James' legs and pulled them to him;
James reached close and untied the leather loincloth from his new lover-
Tarzan's massive 11-inch cut cock plopped out of the loincloth. Thick
burly chocolate brown fuzz enamored around his cock and an even sweeter
treasure trail led up sun kissed tanned skin to Tarzan's enormous pecs.
James immediately took the cock in his mouth and began to swallow it,
being sure to lick the enormous shaft and head. Tarzan grunted in
pleasure; if it was one thing James knew how to do better than anything
was to suck a cock. Tarzan had the finest looking cock that James had
ever seen. James pulled away from his jungle man and laid on his back.
Tarzan began to spit on his cock and thrust into James. James let out a
small wail of pain. "It's ok baby. Go on." James nudged Tarzan on.
Even though his English was broken and limited, Tarzan managed a small
yet lovingly "Ok." He did not want to hurt James. James arched his back
farther and his legs now by his ears, moving Tarzan's cock deeper into
him. Tarzan began to thrust in and out, spastically grunting, rutting
into his new love. This was not a first-time fuck for either man, this
was a vow. A consummation of unsaid forever.

As Tarzan began to get closer and closer to climax, his 11-inch dick now
getting harder and harder in James' tight pink hole. After what seemed
like an eternity, Tarzan thrust one last time and began to beat on his
chest, yelling into the treehouse and letting the jungle know he had
found his mate. James yelled in ecstasy, "Yes. Yes! YES! Fuck me baby. I
am yours. Fuck me." His little cock drizzling precum. Tarzan then took
his hands of his chest and put them around James' throat and pushed one
last time, his load immediately flooding James and pouring onto the floor
of the treehouse. He pulled out of James and staggered to the top of the
bed, James following him.

James kissed Tarzan fiercely. He settled into the ape-man's arms and for
once in his life he felt one thing was certain: this was where he
belonged.