Date: Fri, 2 Jul 2010 19:28:30 -0700 (PDT) From: Billy Jay Dee Subject: Davy and the Boy Scouts Davy and the Boy Scouts By Billy Jay Dee "So, you find a girl on the beach you like and you ask her, `Have you ever seen a fly with gold teeth?' Then you show her the fly on your cut-offs. If she smiles, you invite her out!" The gathered "older" boys laughed and applauded appreciatively. The speaker was a former scout, home from college for the summer. He was short and muscular, tan from the southern California sun. Tony was helping with our annual weeklong camp-out high up in the Pecos wilderness. We talked a lot about skinny-dipping that summer. But, by the time it got hot around lunch time, the regular afternoon monsoons made swimming a rather unfortunate event. The brave souls that tried the black cold ponds ended up running through hail and big slushy rain drops, across slick rocks and tossing their cold purplish naked bodies into their sleeping bags. We ended up spending a lot of afternoons in our sleeping bags waiting for the storms to pass. The older boys took every opportunity to take off their shirts and show off their "muscles". And, of course, there was a lot of talk about "I'll show you mine, if you show me yours. " This was the summer we hit puberty. "We" are three other guys and I who grew up in the Falcon Patrol of the Boy Scouts. As time passed, our younger brothers and cousins joined up. We were the patrol to beat. The Pumas were the patrol that always tried to do the job. The Puma Patrol consisted of three older boys from two different families and their younger brothers. That summer all seven of us were made Patrol Leaders while the older boys moved into staff positions. That meant four "Falcon" patrols versus three "Puma" patrols. To confuse possible animosity, I was given the Puma patrol. That's how slightly younger Larry came to be my assistant patrol leader. Larry was beefy with an infectious grin, short soft coppery hair, rosy cheeks, dark eyelashes and sky blue eyes. He was notorious for getting naked in the tent at night and getting other boys to join him. Probably the second night, when the younger boys were sound asleep, Larry and I were naked in our sleeping bags with our hands on one another's dicks. Larry had the softest pubes and the biggest dick! I was tall for my age, just got pubic hairs and was hoping my dick would grow bigger as I did. We just held one another's maturing peckers and talked about girls: "breasts", "vaginas" and anything else that our dicks found interesting. "How's it going in here, fellas?" It was Tony making the rounds like the adult leaders did occasionally. Our hands slipped into our own bags, before the shaft of his little flashlight slipped into our tent. "You know it's best if you don't wear your wet dirty clothes to bed." Larry proudly threw back his covers and locked his fingers behind his head. He had reason to be proud. His pink cock was eight inches long and thicker than my right hand could grasp around. It was also invitingly rigid. Larry's face though graced with come-hither eyes and a beatific smile, was beet red. Tony's face went serious. His tongue touched his lips. Then he glanced at me with a vicious smile. One bare knee knelt on the floor of our tent, his tan muscular arm shot across the distance between us. His hand flipped open my bag. My raging hard-on laid there aching. I tried to assume Larry's "cocky" pose. But my naked body shivered beneath their communal gaze. Maybe Tony thought it was the cold. He glanced between us with admiration. "You boys have fun!" he smirked. We did. His next stop was the "older" boys' tent, where I heard later he too had some fun. The next afternoon proved particularly cold and damp. Larry went to visit his Puma friends, I went to visit former Falcons, in particular, Wesley. Long before I realized I had a thing for guys, I knew I had a thing for red heads. Wesley in contrast to Larry was small in stature, shy and had curly thick red hair. He shared a tent with Bruce. Though not a fellow Falcon, Bruce and I were on good terms. The rain and cold stretched on that afternoon. I lay on the plastic floor of their tent sandwiched between their sleeping bags. The red-head wore a coat inside his sleeping bag, Bruce was shirtless. I wore a uniform shirt, shorts and long socks. I was starting to shiver. "Scoot on in here, partner," Bruce suggested. He was lying on his left side facing us. His right bare arm unzipped the bag enough for me to slip in beside him. Bruce is a large guy with a solid body, muscles, large firm belly and a good-old-boy attitude. He re-zipped the bag from the inside and left his arm lying across me. I too was lying on my side with my hands outside the now tight sleeping bag, facing our friend. "Ooh," I mumbled. They asked what was up. Somehow, in scooting in the bag I'd twisted my shirt tail and belt into a binding knot. "I'll get it," Bruce offered. He slid the belt out of the buckle, unbuttoned my khaki shorts and unzipped them. "Lift your hips up." I complied and with that his hand lunged inside my white tighties and pushed them and my uniform shorts to my knees. Apparently, Tony had visited them last night. Bruce was naked. His cock was hard. He cuddled into me. I pushed my plump white ass into him. "Doesn't this feel good?" he whispered in my ear, loud enough for our buddy to hear. "You warm enough, Wesley?" he said as he pulled his arm out of the bag and reached across to shake our red-headed buddy. That made his dick slide up the crack of my ass. I heard him gulp. He froze. I heard him lick his lips, just outside my right ear. "What do you think, Dave, should we roll him over and have a cluster fuck?" He started rubbing the top of Wesley's bag, which rocked his hips, which shoved his cock up and down my crack. It slid past my asshole each time just snagging that sensitive spot for a moment. I bided my time, thrust my arms out and said. "Let's get him rocking. Then roll him over here." I pushed off his overstuffed bag, shoving back on Bruce's rod. I heard him gasp. This began a pushing, pulling and tickling feast on Wesley's cocoon of a bag, which gave Bruce plenty of time to dry hump my ass. We were both beet red by the time that things settled down. It would be a couple of weeks before Bruce, Larry or I unloaded for the first time with another guy. Larry went to visit his grandparents for a month after our camping trip. Bruce lived too far away for us to get together easily. Neither of us drove yet. We did get together for a day of "Blitzkrieg". But his mom kept drifting in and out of the backroom where the board game was set up. We never had any privacy. My cock was just driving me crazy too. Bruce was packed into this cut-offs and his out-grown tee shirt. He looked hot. During the camping trip one of the older boys asked us to help him with his Eagle project. He was working with a brand new inner-city Boy Scout troop. Bruce and I were "den-mothers" for lack of a better phrase. Their council held a camporee a few weeks after our hike. By then the monsoons had ended and hot dry weather drifted across the desert Southwest. Due to the fire hazard, their campout had to be in a city park. After the range fire, that's another story, Bruce and I helped our patrol leaders get their charges to bed. It was still hot and all the boys were still excited and sweaty from the events of the day. They were young, from a petite race with street smarts. Tony's bedtime advice wouldn't have gone over well. The best we could do was try to convince them to shake the ash and dust out of the clothes before retiring to their ancient sleeping bags and blankets brought from their bed at home. It took longer to bed down my little boys. When I got to the little pup tent that Bruce and I shared he lay totally naked inside our little oven. As I began to pull off my kerchief and shirt, he wrestled me out of my pants and underwear. He tied our tent fly shut and threw himself back on his ground pad with a grunt. Sweat pooled on his muscular hairless chest and firm belly. He rubbed across this chest with his right hand and then used the gathered moisture to lube his swollen, thick six-inch cock. A sigh escaped him for a moment, and then he seemed to get frustrated with the heat. He sat up a little and spit in his hand, applying the liquid directly to the head of his cock. "Oh, that's better." Needless to say I wrapped my hand around my own six inches and slowly jerked it back and forth. I was fascinated. This was the first time I'd seen another guy's rod -- rock hard and ready outside of a dark sleeping bag. "Damn! It keeps drying up," Bruce whispered with a laugh. "Partner, so something for me -- lick it," he said as his rampant prick pointed straight towards the apex of our tent. As young and horned up as we both were, the sweat rolling off of us and the hormones running through us, we would do anything sexual. I rolled up on my left elbow. He held the base of his shaft with two fingers of his right hand. I licked it like a popsicle melting in the summer sun. All I tasted was saltiness, but apparently it felt really good to Bruce. He began jerking himself again. I could see clear sparkly ooze coming out of his pee hole. "Damn! Let's try this, partner. Just put your mouth over the top." As he whispered his instructions, his fist wrapped around the shaft and began flaying away on his thick meat. For my efforts I got bopped in the lips a couple of times before we figured it out. He was gasping and groaning with rapid breath. I knew from a couple of experiences taking a hot bath where this was going. Bruce's body began to arch off the floor of the tent. His heels dug into the earth beneath us, the leg muscles on his stout frame began to stiffen. He began to pound away on himself, forgetting all about my involvement. I sat back enjoying the view when he spewed several heavy splotches across his chest and firm abdomen. He'd bitten down on the edge of this sleeping bag so as not to be heard by passersby. He collapsed on his back and gasped heavily for air. It was stifling in the canvas pup tent. Our bodies were sticky from sweat and reeked of forest fire smoke. But Bruce beamed. When he captured his breathed in flipped up on all fours. Like all new converts he had to share his joy. "Davy, you got to try that." I got up on my knees in front of him. His square jaw lunged at my enraged cock, making him look like a bull dog lunging for my bone. I was definitely going to let him do it. I started swaying my hips into his on-coming mouth until by some instinct; I just started face fucking him. I'm only six inches and he was a zealot for the cause of cock sucking. I shot into his mouth, so deep down his throat that there was nothing to spit out. We fell asleep atop our respective sleeping bags at that point. We woke mid-way through the night and did it all over again. Tall, beefy Larry with the come-hither sky blue eyes returned from over many rivers and through so many woods about then. It was summer and we lived not too far from one another. So we took every opportunity to spend the days together and sleeping over at night. Since, my little brother tagged along everywhere we went and my parent's bedroom was across the hall from mine, we didn't get to do a lot. Eventually, my brother got tired of Larry's and my longer legs outstripping his on our hikes up the arroyos leading into Embudito Canyon. Finally, in the shade of the dirt embankment, with a manzanita over head, we dropped our shorts and I introduced Larry to the joys of a blowjob. He was a quick learner and became an enthusiast. On his part Larry told me about playing around with his cousins. They all took turns "fucking" the family mule! I couldn't imagine. He also wondered aloud about his dad's relationship with a semi-pro baseball player there in town. We took every opportunity to explore our budding sexuality, but the climax finally came when Larry's mom was out of town. I knew from what Larry had said, when his mom was out of town, a good time was had by all. His dad would drink heavily and have his friends over, particularly his young, black, baseball-playing buddy. Larry got to have sleepovers with his buddies and the sons of his father's friends...in the family den. I rode my bike over in the insufferable heat in time for the Saturday evening barbecue/poker game, while the sun was still high in the sky. Men wandered between the poker table they were setting up and the small patio in the back yard. Most of them wore shorts and were shirtless soon after arriving. Larry and I were the only youngsters there. We were assigned clean up duties when the cigars were lit and the game began. After that we slipped off to the den to watch some television. Larry had sneaked a handful of his dad's magazines that he'd left laying around his bed room since his wife was gone. One of the men in the magazine shoved his huge cock into the ass of a large plump woman after she sucked on him for a while. Larry commented, "My dad is bigger than that." "Bigger than you?" I asked in disbelief. Larry adjust himself and nodded. "Love, to see that," I commented absently, adjusting myself. We went back to watching TV, in fear of getting caught with the magazines. Shortly thereafter we heard guests leaving and decided to start making a bed out of the hideaway in the couch. As we were putting on the sheets, Larry's dad slid the door open. He stood in the door way to the den, stark naked. A beer can dangled from his limp right hand. His long thick cock, though not aroused was not limp! He had a little bit of a belly and a clump of hair mid-way down his bumpy chest. "Larry!" he hollered drunkenly and unnecessarily. "My buddy is taking your room. If you guys need to use the head, use this one here off the garage, don't be stumbling down the hall night waking us up." He started leave. I could see the hair in his ass crack when he turned back. "Have a good night, Davy," he wished as he closed the door. We quickly finished making the bed, stripped and got under the top sheet. We heard his dad wish his short-stop buddy "Goodnight!" a little too loudly. We both laughed. I reached for Larry's thick piece of white meat only to have him turn away. He brought out one last "fuck book". It was "gay". We both gasped at pictures of grown men doing what we'd been doing. By now we could hear his dad mumbling loudly down the hall. He didn't sound alone. A smirk rose to my lips. With a knowing expression, I glanced into Larry's big blue come-hither eyes. Larry gazed dreamily at me with the sweetest smile on his face. The thick soft fingers of his left hand fumbled for the far corner of the magazine. Their flickering touch made my rigid cock jump and ooze. When he saw the effect, he did it again, and then flipped a few pages. "You think they are doing that?" he asked pointing at a picture of a muscular young chocolate-skinned stud poking the big white ass of another guy bent over the arm of a plush recliner. Then those large blue eyes led my gaze to the overstuffed chair across the room from us. I heard a muffled "Hold still" from down the hall. My knees were shaking. I thought his dad was the one "fucking the mule" down the hall. But I nodded my head to us trying it on the back of the chair. Larry looked confused as I reached to turn off the light. "Come on," I whispered as I arose from our bed and slipped across the room in the protecting darkness. I found his hand in the process and pulled him from the bed. He scrambled to follow me when he figured out what we were doing. I found the back of the chair and dutifully bent over it. He leaned his body over mine and whispered, "In Colorado, we had to put a lot of spit on the first guy's cock." I rose and we both tried to scoop saliva from our mouths and slap it on his cock. Finally, I just bent and more drooled than sucked above his aching rod, which kept jumping like a horse in the chute. (Or a mule wedged in the corner of the corral by a pack of horny teenage boys!) He did the same and then guided my body to lie over the back of the chair. His tried to spread my ass cheeks at the same time he guided his thick stiff cock at my hole. I helped by reaching back and spreading them myself. "Ugh!" I grunted as just the head slipped in. He gasped repeatedly in delirious delight. He tried pushing in a little. My stomach muscles knotted and body froze. The pain was unimagineable. Larry gasped again. He leaned his weight off of me when generated relief for me and the same pleasure for him. He leaned forward again, which wasn't so painful and eased off. Eventually I felt comfortable just holding the head in my ass and he was having a great time! "Let's switch," I whispered jealously. Larry pulled out with a "pop" and dropped to his knees. I knelt behind. I had a smaller cock. He had a bigger butt. "Just stick it in, Davy. I been practicing in the shower." I didn't know what that meant, but my rigid member was dying to try it. I slid the head between his amble cheeks and poked around for his asshole. He sighed as the head entered. I rocked back and forth a bit, panting in pleasure and anticipation. Larry's hands reached back behind his butt, cupped around my thighs and yanked me forward. His response was some sort of animal utterance. Mine was "Wow! Oh, sorry." Then I went to banging his butt, like I had my own pillow occasionally. But I sure shot my load faster with him than with a pillow. Larry and I kept at this sport for quite some time, whenever we could find the time. Thankfully, Play Advisor introduced us to the concept of "lube" for "anal sex." In a few years we discovered "girls". Our need for one another's body and interest in Scouts waned at that point. But, that was a couple of years away. That was pretty much the end of my adventures in scouting except for an encounter with Tony years later after I'd left scouting and the guys at the flower nursery where I worked taught me a few more things. But that's another story.