Date: Thu, 24 Mar 2011 12:16:22 -0400 From: spider3x3@excite.com Subject: A Matter of Honor This is a work of erotic fiction meant for mature readers over the age of eighteen years. Send any comments to: spider3x3@excite.com A MATTER OF HONOR by TY SHANNON Jonathan crouched in the laurel thicket, his long Kentucky rifle ready for any trouble, while he studied the narrow river in front of him intently. One end of a birchbark canoe lay smashed against some rocks near the far bank of the river, and a few minutes ago he had seen a broken paddle go floating by. He knew what had happened, because he had seen the canoe over an hour ago a couple miles upstream, with its lone Indian paddler apparently unaware of the falls in the river. Well, now the man knew -- the question was whether he survived. Jon stayed there for a full ten minutes, watching and listening. But finally he began to move stealthily up the river bank towards the falls. He made as little noise as possible, since in this year of 1757 the man who lived the longest in the forest was the one who saw his enemy first. He had no way of knowing what shape the paddler was in after going over the falls, nor whether there were any other Indians nearby, but he wasn't taking any chances. In another 15 minutes he could hear the roaring of the falls, and he worked his way forward from tree to tree. He peered around the next bend in the river -- and saw the Indian lying on a gravel shoal near the bank. He stood there for several minutes, looking and listening. When he was sure there was no one else around, he went forward quickly. He propped his rifle against a large tree and bent over the still form. He could see a long bloody gash on the man's forehead, and his left forearm was broken and bent at an odd angle. He felt the man's neck -- it was warm and his pulse was weak, but he was still alive. He squatted there, debating what he should do. He knew he could splint the arm right there, but he would probably have to carry the Indian back to his camp in order to nurse him back to health -- assuming he wasn't badly hurt internally. Never one to hesitate when action was called for, he made his decision and quickly dropped the small pack from his back. He pulled the Indian up onto the bank, and could see that he was young -- probably in his early twenties. He was wearing a buckskin breechcloth and leggings, but no shirt, which meant that there was probably a small pack of clothing and supplies that had spilled out of the canoe. He was only about 5'10, and lean and supple, so he didn't weigh more than about 160 pounds. Working swiftly, Jonathan broke off a couple thick branches to use for splints. Not knowing any way to handle the problem easily, he held the man's upper arm down with his foot, grasped the wrist and pulled sharply. He heard the bones grind a little, but the arm straightened out. So he took a leather thong from his pack, cut it into two pieces with his hunting knife, and bound the splints tightly to the arm, to hold it in place. Then he wiped off the gash in the man's forehead, and was relieved to see the cut was not very deep. Now came the tough part -- getting him back to camp, which was over two miles from here. Jonathan was tall -- almost 6'2 -- and large and well-muscled, from many years of living in the wilderness. He knew he could carry the man since he had carried deer that heavy before, but he would just have to stop and rest from time to time. Besides, there was no other way to do it. But first he took a couple strips of dried venison from his pack, and sat down and ate. As he chewed on the tough meat, he plotted out in his mind the easiest path back to camp. He gazed at the unconscious form of the Indian, who had the dark reddish-brown color typical of his race, and straight, dark hair. He had no paint on his face or body, so he was probably not with a war party, which was good to know. His limbs were slim but muscled, with noticeably long smooth legs. He had no hair on his chest -- just a slight trail down the center of his stomach where it disappeared beneath his breechcloth. Except for the wound on his head and a few bruises from the river, he was a good-looking young man. When Jonathan had finished eating, he drank deeply from the river. Then he took his rifle and walked on up the river bank to the falls. He managed to find the Indian's buckskin shirt, a soggy blanket, and a crude hunting knife. There might be a rifle around somewhere, but he couldn't take time to look for it now. He gathered up the things he had found and went back to where the Indian lay. These things he tucked back under a large rock away from the river, along with his pack -- he could come back later and get them. Finally he was ready. He placed his rifle where he could get it easily, and then lifted the Indian up and threw him across his shoulder. Then he picked up the rifle and strode off through the woods. It was almost dark when Jonathan finally arrived at his small cabin. He gently eased the unconcious man down to the ground and sat down to rest. He was weary from the long trek and sweating profusely, in spite of the lowering October temperature. But shortly he jumped to his feet and entered the cabin -- he needed to get a fire started before it got dark and he could no longer see. He pulled a small wad of tinder from a bark box in the corner, and in the fireplace he built up a pile of dried twigs which he kept handy. He struck his flint and steel rapidly, and soon had a small flame started. He slowly added larger sticks till there was a cheery blaze burning. The light flickered on the walls of the small cabin. It was only about 10'x12', but it was adequate to his needs -- a place to sleep, room to store some supplies, and space for a pile of furs which he would accumulate during the long winter months. It was constructed from posts stuck in the ground and tied together with vines, with slabs of bark woven into the walls and roof. There was a small hole above the fireplace to let the smoke out, and a deerskin hung down over the only doorway. It was certainly nothing fancy, but it protected him from all but the worst weather -- and it was "home". He went outside and hauled in bigger chunks of wood for the fire, which was soon throwing off plenty of heat. Then he lifted the Indian up and carried him inside, and laid him on the pile of hemlock boughs Jonathan used for a bed. He placed his hand on the man's forehead, and could tell he was feverish -- he would need something to eat and some medicine, if he could be made to swallow. But first he decided he'd better get the Indian's soggy clothes off -- he would never get warm with them on. The moccasins slipped off easily. Then he untied the leather cord from the man's waist, which held up his leggings and breechcloth. The wet leather leggings wanted to stick to his skin, but with some tugging they eventually came off. Then he pulled the breechcloth from under the man's buttocks. Jon looked down at the soft cock and the small patch of black hair surrounding it, and was a little embarrassed at the man's nakedness. He realized that he had never before thought about what an Indian would look like naked -- but it was obvious now that he would have balls and a cock just like any other man. But finally he pulled himself away and hung the soggy clothes on pegs sticking out from the wall, where they would eventually dry. Jon kept only two cooking utensils in the cabin -- a small iron pot and an iron skillet. He took the pot now and made a couple trips to the nearby spring, to fill up the small water barrel that stood in one corner. Then he brought in three armloads of wood, so that he was set for the night. He hung the pot over the open fire with some water in it, and threw in a few chunks of meat, a cut-up potato, and a couple Indian vegetables. Everything except the meat he had to use sparingly, since they couldn't be replaced before Spring; but tonight he thought he'd better make the stew especially rich, since his guest would need it when he awoke. Then he sat down cross-legged against one wall and lit up his pipe, to wait for the stew to cook. He stared at the still form on the bed and wondered where he came from, and what he was doing in this part of the country. His eyes slowly scanned the muscular figure and saw that the man was sweating profusely. He didn't know much about medicine, but he thought that was a good sign. He watched the Indian's chest rise and fall slowly, and admired the tight muscles in his abdomen. And then suddenly he realized that he was wondering what that cock would look like when it was hard. He blushed in the semi-darkness, but had to admit to himself that he was curious about it. When his pipe had burnt itself out, he took a wooden spoon and ate some of the stew, and washed it down with a drink from the barrel. He had a crude cup carved from a buffalo horn that he used for the purpose. Then he swung the pot away from the flames so the food wouldn't burn -- he could heat it up later, whenever he wanted it. He sat down again near the fire and began working on a pair of half-finished heavy moccasins that he would need in the coming winter. After awhile he got up and put another log on the fire -- and noticed that the sick man was now shivering uncontrollably, even though the cabin was very warm. Remembering something his mother had taught him, he knelt beside the man and started to massage his limbs -- that was supposed to help his circulation and prevent the shivering. His strong fingers kneaded the flesh on one thigh and worked slowly down to the ankle, and that seemed to help. So he did the other leg and both arms. Then he massaged the man's muscular shoulders and chest, and down to his abdomen -- but he was careful not to touch the hairy patch at his crotch. When he finished, he could see that the shivering had slowed considerably, so he decided he'd better do it some more. But as his hands worked on the man's thigh again, he began to remember a time when, as a boy, he and his brother had been playing in the barn. They had been wrestling together in the hay mow, and had both developed hard-ons; and they shortly stripped naked and explored each other's body, and played with each other's cock. They eventually jerked each other off, their jizz spraying all over the place from the intense excitement. They had both been pretty embarassed about it and never talked about it again, but Jon always got excited when he thought about that scene. And now, as his hands moved over the Indian's tight flesh, he found that his cock was starting to get hard. He lifted his hands away and stared at the man's dick, and felt he should stop -- but instead his hands went back to the man's leg and began caressing the skin. His fingers slid gently up the thigh, and he marveled at how soft and tender it felt. His hand brushed accidentally against the limp cock, and he pulled away as if he had been burned. He sat there and stared at the cock, wondering again what it would look like when it was hard. Then he screwed up his courage and ran his fingers through the black crotch hair, noticing how stiff and coarse it was. He forced his hand down around the balls, and finally lifted the soft prick in his palm. But he was sweating, and his own cock was throbbing inside his breechcloth. He quickly stood up. This was too much! So he stepped outside into the cold night air and waited till he had cooled off. Then he went back inside and covered the naked man with a blanket, so he wouldn't be tempted again. An hour later he had finished one moccasin; so he put it away, and banked the fire for the night. Then he undressed and wrapped himself in another blanket on the floor, and went to sleep. Sometime in the middle of the night he awoke and became instantly alert -- he had heard something. He listened intently, but all he could hear was the normal night sounds outside the cabin. But then the Indian groaned quietly, which must have been the noise that woke him. Jon sat up and looked over at the man on the bed, and could see that the blanket had come partway off him. So he stood up and knocked up the fire, and put a few small sticks on it to give off some light. The man seemed to still be asleep, but he was tossing restlessly and sweating heavily again. Jon brought over some water and dribbled it onto the man's lips. His tongue came out and licked at the water, so Jon gave him the rest of the water in the horn and he swallowed it readily. He brought another cupful for him, and then took an old shirt and wiped the sweat from the man's face. He knelt next to the bed and watched, but the Indian immediately fell back asleep. Jon was naked in the cool night air and ready to get back into his own bed, but as he reached to adjust the blanket over the man he noticed a distinct bulge at the man's crotch. Still being curious, Jon lifted the blanket away and gazed down at the man's naked body. In the flickering firelight he saw the Indian's hard cock laying on his abdomen, pointed towards his face. Jon just stared -- it was beautiful! Not as thick as his own, but a good 8" in length. As he gazed at it, his own dick started to lengthen also, and his face grew hot. His hand began to stroke himself and his mouth became dry -- he just stared and stared. He didn't understand why this affected him so. His cock quickly extended to its full size and he caressed it roughly, loving the sensations in his gut -- he hadn't jerked off in at least two weeks. As he played with himself, his other hand reached tentatively towards the Indian's stomach. His heart beat madly as he rested his hand on the man's hard dick. He stopped and watched -- but the Indian didn't move. He must be sound asleep. He really didn't know quite what to do, but his guts were boiling and he knew he wouldn't last long. He ran his fingers easily through the black hair and fondled the man's balls, as he stroked himself a little faster. He was breathing heavily, and tried to be quiet -- he certainly didn't want to wake the man. Then he wrapped his fist tightly around the Indian's hot cock and just squeezed it lightly. He held it there, gazing at the man's solid muscles, while the pressure built up in his loins. And then suddenly, with a quiet groan, he came! His stomach tensed and his jizz spurted out into the night air -- three, four, five times -- and splashed onto the dirt floor! God! It was wild!!! He released his grip on the man's still-rigid cock and sat back on his heels, as he milked the last drops of come from his dick. Then he stood up and wiped his hand on the old shirt. He covered the Indian with the blanket and got back into his own bedroll; but he lay awake for a long time, vividly picturing in his mind the sight of the man's big prick and muscular body, wondering why he should be so excited by it. But finally he fell back asleep. --------- ___ --------- Jon awoke early in the morning and dressed quickly. The Indian was still sleeping, so he grabbed his rifle and slipped outside to make his regular morning scout. He moved quietly through the woods in a big circle around the cabin, looking for any sign that might indicate the presence of strangers. In 30 minutes he was back at the cabin, satisfied that there was nothing amiss. Inside he built up the fire and swung the pot over it to heat up the stew. He heard a slight noise, and turned to see the Indian struggling to sit up. He went over and gently pushed the man back down onto the bed. "Easy, fella', you've been hurt pretty bad." The Indian just glared up at him -- he probably didn't understand English. So Jon tried speaking in the Seneca tongue, as well as he could. "My name is Jon. You've been hurt pretty bad." The man's eyes lit up a little, but he didn't reply. So Jon went over to the water barrel and dipped out a horn of water and took it back to the bed. He raised the man's head and helped him to drink. "You need something to eat, and some medicine for the fever. I'll have it ready in a few minutes." He went over to the fire and dished out some of the stew onto a wooden plate for himself. Then he selected a few dried herbs hanging on the wall and dropped them into the remainder of the stew, and stirred it for a few minutes. When he thought it was ready, he took the pot over next to the bed. He helped the man to sit up and fed him a small spoonful. He chewed and swallowed, and opened his mouth for more. But after a couple minutes the man took the spoon from Jon's hand and began to feed himself. So Jon sat there and watched, while he ate, too. When the pot was empty, the Indian said, "More water." So Jon fetched him another hornful. Then the Indian lay back and stared at the ceiling. Jon took the pot and utensils out to the spring and rinsed them off, and returned to the cabin. Then he filled his pipe and lit it from the fire, and sat against the wall and waited. After about tem minutes Jon spoke, "I saw your canoe heading down the river, but I didn't know if you were aware of the falls or not." The Indian looked over at him. "No. This is a new place to me." They talked slowly for half an hour, struggling occasionally over unfamiliar words. Jon learned that the man's name was Tayoga and that he was a Huron from north of Lake Erie. He was down here exploring and hunting. Jon explained how he had gone down to the river and pulled the man out, and brought him up to the cabin; and that he would go back later today and bring back the equipment he had left there. But then Tayoga became drowsy from the medicine, and shortly fell asleep. So Jon took his rifle and went back down to the river. He searched both banks of the river, but all he could find was the Indian's bow. So he pulled his pack on and gathered up the other things, and made his way back to camp. Since Tayoga was still sleeping, Jon ate some dried meat for lunch and went out to hunt. He shot a small deer near the top of the hill, and cleaned it and carried it back to the cabin. It was almost dark when he arrived, so he hung the carcass from a nearby tree, high enough so that wolves couldn't reach it. It would be cold enough to keep through the night, and tomorrow he would cut it up and dry the meat over an open fire, so that it would last for the winter. When he finally went inside, Tayoga had his breechcloth and moccasins on and was sitting in front of the fire, with a blanket draped over his shoulders. He looked up at Jon and spoke, "You saved my life. Tayoga does not forget." Jon just smiled. "Glad I was handy." --------- ___ --------- The next day was cloudy and chilly, and Jon spent the day taking care of the fresh venison. Tayoga helped as well as he could with just one hand, but he tired easily and Jon made him lay down for a while. He kept several chunks of the fresh meat to use over the next few days, and dried the rest. The hide needed to be scraped and tanned, too, but that would have to wait. That night they dined on fresh venison. The following day looked like an early snow might be coming, and Tayoga agreed. So Jon spent the day cutting and splitting firewood, and stacking it near the cabin. He didn't like to be caught short in bad weather. Sure enough, late in the afternoon the clouds opened up and thick flakes began to fall. It quickly coated the ground and started to pile up, but Jon knew that this time of year such a storm wouldn't last long. Still, he and Tayoga would be pretty much confined to the cabin for a couple days. That evening after supper the wind picked up and the temperature dropped, and Jon was glad they were not stuck out in the open somewhere. Tayoga was feeling much better, but his broken arm was very painful. He agreed that it would be several weeks before he would be able to paddle a canoe, and Jon told him he was welcome to stay as long as he liked. Tayoga didn't talk a lot, but they seemed to get along fine, and he helped Jon whenever he could. --------- ___ --------- Late in the evening they were sitting in front of the fire, side by side, listening to the storm outside. Tayoga was not very talkative, but eventually they told each other about their earlier lives, and swapped ideas about hunting and living in the wilderness. Finally the talk died, and they just sat there looking into the fire. The cabin was quite warm, so they were wearing just their breechcloth and moccasins. Tayoga seemed lost in thought, but eventually he spoke, "Jon-a-than, I owe you much. What can I do to repay you?" Jon looked over at him. "You don't owe me a thing, Tayoga. Just forget about it." Tayoga stared into the fire. "That is not the way of my people. It is a debt to be paid." "Ahh, forget it. Someday you may do me a favor." They were quiet for several minutes. Then Tayoga reached over and took Jon's hand, and placed it on his bare thigh. Jon was shocked -- he almost couldn't breathe! The Indian's skin seemed to sear his flesh and he quickly pulled his hand away. Tayoga glanced at him. "Why do you pull away?" Jon couldn't look at him. "It's not right." Tayoga studied the flames for a few minutes and then spoke, "Among my people, the path of a man's life comes from his dreams. Hah-wey-ni-ho, our Great Spirit, sends the dreams to him, and the tribe's medicine man helps him to understand what they mean. Five years ago I received my medicine dream, and I know that I am to follow the Way Of The Loon." Jon looked at him. "The Way Of The Loon?" "Yes. I am to spend my life with a man, not with a woman." Jon swallowed deeply and looked back into the fire. He wondered if that meant what he thought it did. "What does that mean?" "That I am to be the mate of a man, and share his life." "You mean that is permitted among your people?" "Yes, if that is what my dream tells me. The whole tribe knows that I must follow what my dream says, and that is accepted." "Well, among white people such a thing is not allowed. It is considered sinful." Tayoga thought about that for a bit. "I do not understand this sin. I have heard the Black Robes talk about it before. Hah-wey-ni-ho has given me this body, and I have learned many joyful things to do with it. How can such joy be bad? Why would he make such feelings possible and then tell me it is bad?" Jon had wondered about that himself, and was beginning to wish he hadn't been so quick to pull his hand away. "I don't know, but that's what I was taught." Tayoga looked into Jon's face, and let his hand rest on Jon's naked thigh. "You have been good to me. The only thing I have to give back to you is myself, and I wish to do that. Is this bad?" Jon was embarrassed and confused. The more he thought about the idea, the more it excited him. But it was wrong! Or at least, that was what he had always been taught. Now he wasn't so sure. But he didn't push Tayoga's hand away, and his dick was getting hard. After a few moments he replied, "No, it cannot be bad. You do me a great honor, Tayoga, but it just takes getting used to." They sat there for several minutes, staring into the flames. Then Tayoga began to softly caress Jon's thigh. Jon blushed in the flickering light, but his cock was hot and hard. He placed his hand on top of Tayoga's, and pressed it tightly against his leg to keep it from moving. His mind struggled with his dilemma, but his blood was heating up and his heart was beating faster. Then Tayoga spoke again, "Jon-a-than, your mind struggles with this question, but I think your spirit already knows the answer. I have seen you looking at me, and I felt your hand on my body the other night -- and I heard you when you came." Jon gasped quietly -- and then his muscles relaxed. "I didn't know you were awake. I've been wondering ever since why I did that, but now it looks like it was meant to be." He moved his hand over so it was resting on Tayoga's bare thigh, and looked into his eyes. "But I've never done this before -- I don't know what to do." Taygoa looked back at him, "You do not have to know. Just do what I do -- or what your heart tells you to do." Then Tayoga stood up and put some more sticks on the fire, so there was more light. He untied his waist strap and let his breechcloth drop to the floor, and stood naked in the flickering firelight, with his half-hard cock arching away from his muscled body. He reached his hand down to Jon, who took it and came to his feet. Tayoga reached over with his good hand and loosened Jon's strap, and his breechcloth fell to the floor also. Jon's dick was hard and throbbing, and stood out proudly from his torso. Tayoga's hand caressed gently over Jon's stomach, and then took the hot cock into his hand. Jon closed his eyes and stood there, every muscle tense, wondering what Tayoga would do -- but thrilling to the sensations. Tayoga stroked the dick several times, and then ran his hand through the surrounding hair and played with the balls hanging below; and he stroked the cock some more. Then he reached over and took Jon's hand, and pulled it down so that it was resting on his own prick. Jon looked down at Tayoga's cock and caressed it, and watched as it grew to it's full length. They stood there for several minutes, playing with each other. Then Jon grew bolder and gave in to his desires, and let his other hand slide over the Indian's taut skin -- across his chest and small nipples, down to his muscled abdomen, and finally around to his hairless ass cheeks. His mouth was dry and his heart was pounding fiercely in his chest -- and he knew that he really wanted this. Then Tayoga stepped forward and put his good arm around Jon's shoulders, and pulled their bodies together. Jon hesitated, but then wrapped his arms around the Indian's body and they hugged. Their hard cocks were trapped between their bodies, and heat seemed to flow between them. Jon just closed his eyes and let his hands roam over the Indian's back and buttocks, enjoying the feel of the smooth skin beneath his fingers. Finally Tayoga moved back and dropped to his knees, his face just inches away from Jon's huge prick. Without hesitating, he thrust his face forward and took the dick into his mouth. Jon just looked down at him, shocked. Such an action had never occurred to him, and his stomach recoiled from the idea. But then the hot wetness around his cock worked its way into his guts, and he stood there with his eyes closed while the Indian began to suck on him. He stroked it slowly and evenly, in and out -- in and out. Jon's blood boiled from the new sensations and he gasped for breath. God! He never knew it could feel this good! Tayoga reached around and grasped Jon's ass cheek, and pulled his body closer, forcing the hot cock all the way into his mouth. Jon could feel the head of his dick striking the back of Tayoga's throat on every stroke. He could feel his balls tightening. He whispered hoarsely, "Damn, you'd better stop! I'm gonna come!" But Tayoga didn't stop -- he made his mouth tighter and stroked faster, and squeezed and tugged at Jon's ass. Jon grabbed the Indian's head and thrust his hips into the steaming mouth. "YEAH!! NOW!! I'M GONNA COME!!!" And he did! He came -- and he came -- and he came!!! He could feel Tayoga swallow, but he just kept stroking. And Jon spurted again and again!!! But finally, when Jon's cock started to soften, Tayoga stopped. He sucked the last drops of come from the tender cock head and let it slip out. Jon looked down at Tayoga. "My God! That was incredible!" Tayoga smiled and licked his lips. "That is my gift to you. How can that be bad?" Jon laughed, and pulled Tayoga up onto his feet and took him in his arms. They just stood there for several minutes, resting. Eventually Jon pulled away, and began to stroke Tayoga's still-hard dick. He watched the Indian's body react for a few moments, and then looked up at him. "I guess you must have done this before." Tayoga smiled back at him. "Yes, I have had a good teacher. But I have still not found my life's partner. That is the primary reason for my trip down to this country." As Jon continued to stroke Tayoga's cock, he stared at the solid muscle with the dark veins wrapping around it. He ran his hand over the tender thighs, and caressed the balls, and stroked the beautiful cock some more. His gut told him he wanted to taste it in his mouth and feel the soft skin on his tongue, but his head still struggled with the idea. He licked his lips, and his heart beat faster. Tayoga seemed to know what Jon was feeling, and spoke softly, "Do not be afraid. Do whatever you want." Jon swallowed deeply and slowly sank to his knees. He held the throbbing prick in his hand and gazed at it, right in front of his face. But finally his tongue snaked out and licked tentatively at the gleaming cock head. Tayoga didn't move -- he just stood there and watched. Then Jon leaned forward and let the pink head slip into his mouth. He held it there and slid his tongue around it, enjoying the feel of the velvety skin. His heart was pounding in his chest, and his own dick began to lengthen again. Then he pushed his mouth forward and let the Indian's cock slide deeper into him. When the head reached the back of his throat he started to gag, so he pulled back a little, surprised at that reaction. But then he started to stroke on it with his mouth, and watched it sliding in and out in front of his face. He just closed his eyes and sucked it, for a long time. After several minutes, he could hear Tayoga's heavy breathing and could feel him thrusting a little. Jon opened his eyes, and could see Tayoga's stomach muscles tightening. He remembered the way the Indian had done it, so he made his lips tighter and stroked faster. Tayoga moaned quietly in his throat, and his hand came down and ran through Jon's hair. Jon worked his head even faster -- he felt the cock head pulsing inside his mouth, and he knew Tayoga would come very soon. But then suddenly he got a little scared -- he was afraid of the taste of the stuff in his mouth. So he quickly pulled his mouth off and took the hot cock in his hand, stroking it as fast as he could. Tayoga groaned loudly and thrust forward with his hips -- and he came!!! His jizz spurted forcefully and splashed right on Jon's cheek! He spurted again and again, and the stuff sprayed all over Jon's chest! Finally, when Tayoga stopped spurting, Jon stroked the hot dick a few more times and stopped. His own heart was throbbing painfully in his chest and his prick was rock hard again. Jon looked up at Tayoga and smiled. Tayoga smiled back, "That was good, Jon-a-than." Then he took his finger and wiped the glob of come from Jon's face. He held the finger out towards Jon's mouth. "Here -- there is no taste to it." Jon hesitated, but then sucked the finger into his mouth and licked it off. He was surprised that it didn't taste bad at all -- next time he would know. --------- ___ --------- For the next couple hours they sat in front of the fire, sometimes talking and sometimes not. They were naked and sat with their legs touching, sharing a blanket wrapped around their backs to ward off the stray drafts of cold air that occassionally snuck through the cabin walls. Jon quickly got over his reluctance to touch the man's skin, and let his arm drape down across Tayoga's thigh. Tayoga told Jon about his medicine dream and what it meant, and described a few of his experiences with another man of his tribe who also followed the Way Of The Loon. Jon was shocked when he heard how one man could fuck another; but after thinking about it he knew it could be done -- but he didn't see how it could ever be enjoyable to the one getting fucked. Eventually Jon went outside to take a leak. He was still naked, and he felt that the temperature was below freezing. But the snow had stopped falling and a fresh 3" layer of white covered everything. The clouds had blown away and a bright moon created a ghostly aura about the clearing -- and it was beautiful! He turned back to the door of the cabin, "Tayoga. Come here." The Indian's muscular body showed briefly in the light at the doorway, and then Tayoga stood naked next to him. "Look. Isn't the sight magnificent?" Tayoga quietly surveyed the scene and nodded. "Hah-wey-ni-ho provides us with many pleasures in this world." They stood together silently for a couple minutes, and then Tayoga looked into Jon's eyes. "You are a good man, Jon-a-than. You are not like the other white men I have met. The spirit of the forest dwells inside you, and that is good." But shortly the cold began to penetrate Jon's body and he led the way back into the cabin. They went over to the fire to warm up, and Jon put some more logs on it. "You should sleep in your bed tonight," Tayoga said, "I can sleep on the floor. This is your home." Jon stared into the fire for a few moments, and then put his arm around Tayoga's shoulder. His heart fluttered briefly as he replied, "Why can't we both sleep in the bed?" Tayoga smiled easily at him. "I would like that very much, but it was not my place to ask." Tayoga banked the fire for the night while Jon spread the hemlock boughs out to make a little more room. Then he spread a blanket on the bed and they both lay down, and pulled another blanket part-way over them. After a few minutes Jon rolled over on his side facing Tayoga and let his hand rest on the Indian's stomach. Tayoga responded by laying his hand on Jon's thigh. Jon caressed the smooth muscles for a while and let his hand drift down to Tayoga's prick -- and he found it had started to grow again. So he ran his fingers through the coarse hair and down over the tender thigh, and then wrapped his hand around the hardening cock. He smiled, "You may have started something, my friend. I'm finding I enjoy playing with your body." Tayoga looked back at him. "That is good. I have offered my body to you hoping you would like it, for I enjoy it, too." Jon stroked the man's dick, and then on an impulse leaned down and kissed him on the lips. Tayoga just looked blankly at him and did not respond, so Jon asked, "Don't Indian's kiss?" "Was that a kiss?" Jon chuckled. "Yes. Do it like this." And he leaned down and kissed Tayoga again, long and slow. The Indian pursed his lips, trying to copy Jon, and kissed him back. Then Jon pulled up. "White people do it all the time, when they want to show they care about someone." "I think it is good, but I will have to learn how." He lifted his lips up to Jon and they kissed again, and Jon continued to play with Tayoga's dick. When they broke apart, Jon smiled, "But of course you are only supposed to do it with a woman." "I think I would rather do it with you." They both laughed. Then Jon pushed the blanket back, and leaned down and took Tayoga's hard cock into his mouth. He was no longer nervous about it, and began to suck on it -- up and down -- up and down. He tried to concentrate on what he was doing, making his lips tight and taking as much as he could in his mouth. Tayoga just lay there enjoying the sensations, his abdomen tightening and thrusting slightly. After several minutes Tayoga lifted Jon's head away and looked into his eyes. "Jon-a-than, I would like you inside of me -- all the way." Jon swallowed and looked back at him for a minute. "You want me to fuck you?" "Yes." "But won't it hurt?" "Do you have some grease that you use for cooking?" "Yes, in a can by the fireplace." "If you put some on your finger and use it first, that makes it much easier." Jon stroked Tayoga's dick slowly as he thought about it -- he had never even fucked a woman before. But he knew he could do this, and his churning guts told him that he wanted to. Finally he threw the blanket off and went to get the can of grease. Tayoga rolled over on his stomach and spread his legs, and Jon came back and knelt between them. He scooped a little grease on his finger, and spread the muscular ass cheeks with his other hand so he could see. Then he slowly slid his finger into the puckered asshole. Tayoga lifted his ass a little as he felt the intrusion. When Jon let his finger slide out, Tayoga turned to look back at him and said, "Put some on your cock, too." So Jon took some more and smeared it liberally over his hot prick. Then Tayoga lifted his ass up in the air a little, and Jon moved closer till his throbbing cock was positioned right at the puckered hole. Holding his dick to guide it, Jon pushed against the sphincter -- but it didn't want to go in. Tayoga lifted his head. "Go ahead -- push it." So Jon leaned forward and pushed harder, and after a moment of hesitation the head popped in. Tayoga just said, "Push it -- farther." Jon shoved harder, and Tayoga pushed back at the same time -- and Jon's prick slowly buried itself into Tayoga's ass. When his pubic hair was flattened against the Indian's ass cheeks, Jon stopped. His breath gasped -- it was so hot and tight!! He was afraid he would come right away, so he just held it there for several moments till his blood cooled a little. But finally he leaned forward on his hands and started to stroke his big cock into the man's ass -- in and out -- in and out -- slowly and evenly. Tayoga groaned at first, but then his ass was lifting and thrusting back to meet Jon's strokes. The sweat began to roll down Jon's sides. "God, Tayoga, this is fantastic!" "Do it harder!" So Jon pushed roughly each time, and felt his abdomen crush against the quivering ass cheeks. He thrust and he thrust -- he could see Tayoga's head forced down into the bed on every stroke. He watched as his throbbing cock slid into Tayoga's ass, and the hairless ass cheeks flattened against his stomach. The heat surrounding his dick made his blood boil, and the sensations crept down into his balls! He stroked harder, slamming into Tayoga's ass! He was afraid he might be hurting the man, but Tayoga just groaned in his throat and kept pushing back to meet the thrusts. Jon tried to hold back -- but he couldn't! "I"M GONNA COME!!!" Faster and harder -- and he came!!! His jizz spurted into the flaming asshole -- again and again!! Tayoga groaned louder, and took it all! But finally Jon stopped, exhausted and breathing heavily. He lowered himself down onto Tayoga's back, not wanting his cock to slip out, and they settled down onto the bed. The sweat from Jon's body dripped down onto Tayoga's back, and they just lay there and rested. After several minutes Jon felt his prick softening, so he let it slip out, and then he rolled off Tayoga onto the bed. Tayoga turned towards him and let his arm rest on Jon's chest. Jon kissed the man gently. "God, Tayoga, I didn't know it could be that great!" The Indian just smiled back at him. They lay there for a while, and then Jon realized that Tayoga's dick was still hard and pressing against his leg. He reached down and grasped it, and squeezed it gently. Tayoga twisted his hips a little so his cock was more readily available, and Jon began stroking it with his hand. He thought briefly about offering to let Tayoga fuck him, but decided he wasn't ready for that yet. He looked into Tayoga's eyes. "It's your turn, my friend. How do you want to do it?" Tayoga thought for a minute. "Get up here and put your prick in my mouth. I will do it." So Tayoga rolled over onto his back, and Jon got up on his knees with his soft dick in front of the Indian's face. He leaned forward on his hands and Tayoga took the big cock into his mouth. Tayoga's tongue started to work on the dick while he began to stroke himself. Jon just held his body still and watched. It didn't take long. Tayoga's muscles strained as he beat his cock. His legs spread a little and his toes pointed as he felt the sensations building. Jon felt his dick begin to lengthen a little as he watched, so he started stroking easily into the hot mouth. Tayoga stiffened and groaned in his throat -- and he came!! His jizz sprayed across his chest and stomach! When Tayoga finally stopped shooting, Jon pulled out and lay down beside the man. Tayoga just smiled, and rubbed his come into the flesh on his stomach. After a bit the chill in the air began to creep into Jon's body, so he reached down and pulled the fallen blanket up over them. He rested his arm across Tayoga's chest and kissed him. "Thank you, Tayoga, for a wonderful gift." Tayoga kissed him back. "That is what I wished." As Jon began to drift off to sleep, he wondered what it would be like if he and Tayoga could live together -- permanently.