Date: Sun, 05 Apr 1998 12:49:42 GMT From: TellerOf Tales Subject: A Weekend Away A Weekend Away Pure fiction, or is it fantasy? The telephone rang. "Have you heard the news? We've got the green light!" Paul said before I had a chance to recognize his voice. "YES!" I answered excitedly throwing a punch into the air, "How come you knew before me?" "I listened in on the extension when I heard my dad talking to your dad. Now we can have some real fun." Paul said this with a strange inflection in his voice. I was no longer sure what he meant by FUN. It was early July and after weeks of careful planning and getting parental approval, not the easiest thing to get. Paul and I eventually met on the riverbank, the canoe was in the water and loaded. All that was needed was for us to get in and go. Parents, by definition, always try to protect their young but why do they always have to lecture us, the young? After the obligatory lecture followed by the yes dad, no dad, three bags full Dad routine we were off. We waved goodbye to our parents and muttered quietly under our breath some thing like "Thank you God". I, by the way, am Jack. I am thirteen years old, 5 feet 6 and about 110 pounds with fair short hair and built like a beanpole. I am, what is known around here as, "a late bloomer", very late to my way of thinking. I, like most other boys in my position, spend a lot of time wishing my body would get a move on. I was the last in my class with no pubic hair and only 1 of 3 whose voice had not yet broken. Paul, on the other hand, is nearly fifteen, 6 feet and about 130 pounds with short dark hair. He is one of those out going, fun-loving guys that everyone loves to be with. He is affectionately known as the "Friendly Giant". The side most people fail to see is his caring, loving side. He is never slow to step in when younger people need help. That's one of the reasons I love him so much. Something I could never tell him. I don't want to lose him ever! Both of us are experienced canoeists, both kayak and Canadian (so I do know the difference), and were about to embark on our first unsupervised trip. We paddled upstream for couple of hours. We were looking for the campsite that had been chosen by our parents. Finding it from the bank was a piece of cake but from the water in the twilight, it wasn't so easy. We stopped a couple of times but it wasn't the spot we were looking for. It was becoming too dark to paddle safely so we settled for a good sheltered spot with a small sandy beach and a couple of trees we could tie the boat to. We landed and checked the site out. It was on the edge of a meadow and seemed to be in the middle of nowhere. There were a few trees and we could see the lights from farms and the odd house but I guess the nearest was about a mile and a half away. We pulled the canoe right up onto the beach and tied off both mooring lines. Paul and I always made a good team and within a few minutes I had the tent up and Paul had made some hot chocolate. We sat and chatted for a while and I think the conversation could be condensed down to how good it felt to be on our own, no parents or siblings. Paul had a younger brother and I had four sisters, three older than me. We were sitting on small fold-up camping chairs dressed in tee shirts, shorts and old deck shoes in the light from one of those plastic tubes with chemicals in. I shivered as a gentle breeze blew across the meadow. Paul, who seemed to think he was in charge, told me to put a sweater on. Well, after my refusal a bit of ruff and tumble started. In the end, Paul got the sweater for me and I put it on. Boys being boys the talk soon came round to girls and their various attributes. Paul seemed to think I was some thing of an expert having four sisters. I don't know where he got that idea from; I was a thirteen-year-old virgin who had only just discovered Mrs. Palm and her five lovely daughters. As it turned out, although he wouldn't admit it, Paul had far less experience than I did. At least I had seen a girl naked. So after I had sworn him to secrecy, I started to tell him about my sisters and what I had seen at home. Naturally I added a few embellishments and it's these, I think, are what started us off. We both sat there in this green spooky light with the bulges in the front of our shorts growing bigger while we talked. Paul didn't seem to mind his rather large bulge showing and adjusted it casually and unashamedly. I wasn't so casual, in fact I was quite embarrassed because no one had ever seem me with a stiffy before and try as I might the harder I tried to conceal it, the more obvious and uncomfortable it became. Finally Paul lost patience with me and told me to either leave it alone or get it out and play with it properly. I was shocked because I thought he hadn't noticed. At this I must have gone bright red. Paul spotted this and before I knew what had hit me I was pinned down. He was sat on my stomach and had my arms either side of my head. I was struggling furiously, legs kicking, body continually shifting trying to get him off. Eventually I gave up completely worn out. He just sat there laughing. "You need to put some muscle on if you want to beat me!" Paul said with one of his grins. It was the sort of grin that says; "you don't know what I have in mind". I just lay there, still and sulked a bit. I knew he wouldn't hurt me but I was starting to see a whole new side of him and I thought I liked it. After a short time he started teasing me about my stiffy again and threatening to reveal it to the world. All I could do was wriggle. Unfortunately I hadn't counted on him trapping my stiffy between the cheeks of his bum, his shorts and my belly. My wriggling was not making it any better. In fact it was making things start to happen. I could feel my stiffy getting bigger and harder. There was also this strange tingly feeling starting to develop down near my nuts. Paul also noticed how much harder I had become. He told me to "Lie still or You know what will happen." I didn't. So he shuffled his bum up onto my chest and used his knees to pin my hands down. The next thing I knew was this totally overwhelming sensation coming up from my groin. He was squeezing me through my shorts! No one had ever touched me down there before and I started to squirm with pleasure and glow red with embarrassment. "You like that don't you?" All I could do was groan. It wasn't long before every muscle in my body went stiff as I went into orbit. I had my eyes closed tightly and could see all sorts of brightly colored shapes and flashes, a bit like a fire work display inside my head that seemed to affect the rest of my young, inexperienced body also. Paul climbed off of me and sat smiling by my side. After a couple of minutes I had started to recover. He helped me to sit up and hugged me like you would a brother or sister. I give him one of the widest grins possible. "My brother likes that game too. But he doesn't bounce back so soon." Paul said as we started to stand up. "Why?" I asked rather foolishly. Before I knew it my stiffy was no longer my own and I went on the trip again. Using his free hand to pull down my shorts and underpants before carrying on. It wasn't long before he had to steady me when my legs started to buckle as I went back into orbit. He gently laid me down on the soft grass. This time, I stayed down. I couldn't understand why I felt so good about something that I had been brought up to believe was so wrong. I was getting very confused. In the mean time Paul had stripped off and was stood before me, stark naked, with one of the biggest stiffy's I had ever seen. It looked about seven inches long and huge with a good bush compared to my poor bald four inches. I started to get up from where Paul had laid me down. I don't know why but I too started to finish undressing. "No! I'll do that for you." Paul said in a commanding voice. All I could do was obey. This wasn't the Paul I knew. He was usually so gentle almost, dare I say it, loving with me. He removed my shirt and sweater, then my deck shoes. My shorts and underpants had already made it off by themselves after my earlier encounter with his hand. There we stood, in the middle of nowhere, stark naked with our clothes spread all around and neither of us gave a damn. This was most unusual for me because I tend to be the very shy about my body. He stepped forward and wrapped his long muscular arms around me. All I was aware of was something-hard digging in to my belly. Something inside made me start to rub my belly against his and he let out a deep moan of pleasure as he shuddered slightly. Was this me causing this reaction or was he cold? I got a little bolder and locked my arms behind his back before increasing my motion. "I'm about to shoot!" Paul said, but before he could finish his sentence he started pumping his life force up between us. He seemed to go on forever until he slumped to the floor taking me with him. I felt good about having returned some of the pleasure he had earlier given me. I also felt guilty about having done some thing "wrong". I pulled away and moved off to one side away from Paul. My stomach and chest felt cold as the gentle breeze blew across the fluid that was smeared over me. I sat down on the grass, knees up and head down crying gently to myself, or so I thought. I tried to understand my feelings. The guilt. The pleasure. The love? Paul moved in close behind me and wrapped his legs and arms around me and tried to comfort me. I could feel him trembling. I think he was scared he had taken things too far. He rested his head on my shoulder. I could feel his tears as they ran off of his cheek and down over my chest, he too was crying freely. Again, I didn't understand. I turned my head slightly and he looked up. I don't know why but I gave him one of the longest kisses I have ever given anyone. There was a kind of electricity that started the moment my lips met his. His lips seemed to part automatically the moment my tongue touched them. WOW! This was the first time I had really kissed anyone, let alone another boy. It felt so good, so right but so wrong too. We broke our embrace and walked down over the small sandy beach to the edge of the water where he insisted on cleaning us both up. The water felt cool against my skin as Paul gently cupped the water up in his hands and gently rubbed my chest, belly and other parts removing all trace of our earlier excitement with his large firm soft hands. A slight breeze made us both shiver despite being a clear warm summer's night. After drying off, we crawled into the tent. Our sleeping bags were laid out ready but Paul told me to wait a moment whilst he zipped them together. "In light of our recent experiences, we would find it more comforting." I think he meant me but I wasn't sure. We crawled in and spent the night in each other's arms. I can usually sleep anywhere but I found it difficult that night partly because of the mixed emotions I was experiencing but also laying next to Paul. The one person I truly wanted as a brother. My mind was in turmoil. I couldn't understand why something that felt so right could be so wrong. I should explain my parents were both old School and for them relationships between members of the same sex was strictly taboo. So here I was, curled up with a lad nearly two years older than me after my first sexual experience. We awoke to the sound of someone walking around outside the tent. I glanced at my watch. It was about 7:30, I think. My eyes were still a bit fuzzy after a long night with very little sleep. The person outside was muttering something about "Bloody hikers". He obviously hadn't seen the canoe tied up on the beach. We quickly dressed and cautiously opened the tent. As we started out of the tent, the first thing we saw was a pair of green muddy Wellington boots with faded jeans tucked into them and an old parka jacket with a beautiful clear blue sky behind. I guessed that he was the farmer or one of his hands and wasn't too happy about us being there. My guess was spot on. After we had explained the circumstances of our enforced stop he became a little more reasonable. It took some fast thinking to explain why our clothes from the previous night were scattered around the front of the tent. My explanation of skinny-dipping seemed to satisfy him but unfortunately caused us a little embarrassment, which I think added to the credibility of my explanation. He told us to "Clear off straight after breakfast!" We thanked him and asked, out of courtesy, if he would like to join us. He declined and stomped off chuckling quietly to himself as he went over the field towards a gate in the far corner near a solitary cow. This should have started the alarm bells ringing, but it didn't. We got our selves organized in double quick time that morning. I cooked a good old-fashioned English breakfast. No toast thought. I hadn't been able to find a collapsible gadget to go on top of the stove. Paul was never very good at cooking on lightweight stoves. He couldn't get the knack of cooking something and keeping other things warm at the same time. It is quite an art really. Meanwhile Paul sorted our stuff out and packed the tent. The farmer returned about an hour later to check up on us. We were about to leave but I climbed out of the canoe, much to Paul's surprise, and walked straight over to the farmer and apologized again for any inconvenience we had caused. This caught him off guard. He was also quite pleased, I think. He looked around the campsite and all he could find was a patch of flattened grass where the tent had been. At this point I became very nervous as he put his arm around my shoulder and pushed a business card into my hand. "If you want to camp here again sonny, you can, but phone and ask me first!" The farmer said. I spotted a strange gleam in his eye as he pointed to the other side of the field. "Look." I nearly dumped in my shorts! My face went pale and my eyes must have been sticking out on stalks. There, about one hundred meters away, was the largest bull I had ever seen. It was staring at us menacingly. "Good, I see you now understand." How had we missed that great beast the night before? That bull must have weighed over a ton, not that I knew what a ton looked like. "Thanks again and Goodbye" I said with a nervous quiver to my voice as I headed back to the canoe and climbed in urging Paul to start paddling, quick. The farmer waved and turned back into the field. I spent a few minutes relating what had happened to Paul and we both had a good laugh at my expression when I saw the bull. I spent best part of the next hour trying to explain to Paul, how I felt. My confusion about something that felt good but also made me feel guilty. I didn't do very well until I mentioned my parent's attitudes then things started to fall into place. It turned out that his parents were more liberal. My family was your typical working class family. My father was a construction worker and my Mum was a home help, a posh title for scivvy, but don't tell her I said that. They both worked hard to keep the seven of us in a simple but comfortable life. They both had Victorian attitudes and standards. This explains why my bum was a rosy red color a lot of the time. I was always ribbed (teased) about my red butt in the showers at school. On the other hand, Paul's Father was in middle management for a large national conglomerate with good income and a nice house. His Mum spent most of her day doing charity work. It was a warm and sticky day and pretty soon we were plastering the sun cream on our slim, and in my case skinny, bodies and adjusting our shades and silly broad brimmed, bush style hats. At about 10:30 we moored up by a lock and after the obligatory chat with the Keeper headed off into the village for our supply run and phone call home, just to keep the olds happy. The village was small with one street running down to the lock. There was also a superb 11th Century Church. Beside the village shop there were a couple of pubs and the Post Office. We passed through the lock taking care to avoid the top of the weir and almost immediately were back into the peace and quiet of the countryside if only for a few miles with only the occasional cabin cruiser passing us. Some of the sights we saw on those cruisers were enough to set young teenagers hormones rushing. Girls in bikinis one even mooned at us, which was, of course replied to by the two of us showing her our bare butts. I think we may have shown more than planned judging by the angry shouting from the girl's father. Woops. We stopped for lunch under a giant oak tree with a rather dodgy looking swing hanging off a branch over the river. Paul tried to show off when he took an almighty run up and swung way out over the river. Unfortunately for him, a straddle jump wasn't the best type of entry into the water. Needless to say, I did my life saving bit and brought him back to the bank. I offered to rub the injured parts for him, I even thought about kissing them better but he declined. I don't think he appreciated being rescued especially by a bag of bones like me. We ate our butties, sandwiches that is, while I made a brew (tea). I think my comments a little earlier may have started things going again when Paul suggested we do dares once we started off again. We agreed the dare and both of us had to complete it but at different times. As we set off after our lunch, I had to spend the next mile paddling with my shorts round my ankles, no underpants. This wasn't too bad. It was my turn to paddle in the front and so had something to hide behind should I need to but leaning against the seat and my buoyancy aid caused some potentially embarrassing and very sore red marks. Paul offered to sort these out later. We both grinned. My imagination went wild. I survived my dare with only a couple of minor incidents, which included a little old lady looking over a bridge straight down into my lap. I hope she is ok. The look on her face was quite something. I thought she was going to have a fit. Paul wasn't so lucky. After the next lock it was his turn. Unfortunately for him we were entering a small built up area with lots of people, families mostly, sitting out in their back gardens facing the river and, for a short time, us. Paul was in the back, which meant he had nothing to hide his equipment and being that bit taller; he was showing most things off above the gunwales. I don't think we have paddled so fast and hard for a long time. This would also mean my next dare would be a lot more challenging. We only stopped once more for a quick swim. This was to be my nemesis. Paul, the nice kind friendly soul that he is, relieved me of my shorts and swam back to the bank as fast as he could. My shorts were then dumped in the canoe, which had been moored at the end of a small jetty. Somewhere along the line, I got a seriously hard stiffy. People, generally, accept skinny-dipping but definitely not with a boner on display. I was stuck in the water on one of the busier stretches of the river wearing nothing but deck shoes and a smile. There was a young chap, may be 19 or 20, walking along the bank that passed a comment about a pike living in this stretch of the river. I'm sure he had an idea of what was going on. With my level of embarrassment, I must have looked like a red buoy in the water until, that is, something brushed my leg. The combination of his comment and what ever it was brushing my leg caused a near state of panic in me. The result nearly had me entered for the Olympic swimming team. I raced out of the water, scrambled up the soft crumbly bank and straight into a clump of bushes stiffy waving like a wobbly flagpole in a strong breeze. Paul and the other chap creased up with laughter. At this point, ingenuity kicked in. Oh how I wished it had kicked-in a few moments earlier. I took my deck shoes off and used them to hide my embarrassment. I used my stiffy more as a shoe hook than a clothes hook with my balls tucked into the heel of the shoe. Paul, in the meantime, had removed his camera from the dry bag and was quite happily taking photo's of my antics. Something that was to earn me the thrashing of a lifetime shortly after we got back home. It will take sometime for me to forgive him for that. I returned to the canoe and restored my body into my shorts with Paul and the other chap close at hand. I vowed revenge. When we eventually made camp that evening, Paul quite rightly, kept his guard up almost all the time. Again it was a remote campsite but our parents had chosen this one. It was a small clearing in amongst some trees. The tent was set up and tea was nearly ready. "Why did you feel guilt about fooling around last night?" Paul asked out of the blue. I still did. Oh to get rid of a conscience like mine. I tried explaining yet again that "My parent's thought it wrong for people to have a relationship with people of their own gender", that definitely sound like my parents talking, and that was how they had brought me up. I was on a losing battle there. Either he couldn't or didn't want to understand. Paul and I had been friends for about three years, ever since I started canoeing. I wanted him to be the brother I never had but was having a tough time discovering what brothers got up when left alone. We ate tea in silence; each of us considering what had been said. During the clearing up Paul said "OK you have to deal with your own conscience but, that doesn't mean we can't continue our fooling around does it?" My blush gave him the answer he must have been looking for. He leaned over and gave me a big hug wrapping his arms around me and gently patting my bottom. Bingo! My opportunity to retaliate was at hand. I returned his hug with one hand and cautiously slipped the other down the back of his shorts and between his legs. I could feel him shiver at my touch, that is, until I had him firmly in my grip, which was when his expression changed to one of startled disbelief. "Revenge is sweet don't you think!" I whispered in his ear. His eyes were starting to water, so I loosened my grip slightly. "What do you want?" He asked. "Remove all of your clothes, slowly." I replied. We both eased our selves to our feet while I kept control of him; he removed his tee shirt and shorts. "Don't forget your shoes." Which he duly removed. I steered him toward the canoe that had been pulled up onto the bank earlier and ordered him to lie on his back holding his ankles. Using my free hand, I hog tied him with the painter (the rope at the front) and placed the barrel containing the remaining food between his knees leaving him in a vulnerable position. I took hold of his best friend, besides me that is, then started to gently massage it amid moans from Paul and higher pitched chuckles from myself. I brought him right to the verge, stopped and walked away. I returned a couple of minutes later and repeated the process. I did this five or six times. His pleas for release were getting more and more desperate. I switched into lecture mode and reminded him of the episode with my shorts and the supposed pike, about how he shouldn't embarrass me in font of other people and his offer to soothe my sore skin from my earlier escapade. I even suggested that I could soothe his sore skin. "But I don't have any." He retorted. "You soon will have." I replied as I leaned over him and picked up my paddle from inside the canoe. "No! No! Please don't" he pleaded. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't." He couldn't. I held the shaft of the paddle against his ankles and lined the blade up with the two, nice, round, white globes staring up at me, lifted the paddle to the horizontal and let gravity do the rest. It landed with a gentle whack. I didn't, want to hurt him just remind him that I too had my limits. I let the paddle fall again and again as I watched his skin turn from white, through a delicate shade of pink to red. The paddle, by the way, is about 1.5 meters long with a broad blade. After about 15 or 20 stokes of the paddle he went very quiet and started to shudder. His breathing deepened and he went very stiff as he got the release he so desperately wanted earlier. I was gob smacked. I'd never heard of anyone shooting off without touching themselves. Yet here it was happening right before my eyes. I removed the barrel, untied him and, without thinking, sat him up. He winced and rolled over onto his side. I laid his head on my lap and he gently placed an arm around my waist. We stayed like that for several minutes. Looking up and grinning, he said, "I've never had an orgasm like that before." "Sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you. You know that, brother." It was too late, I had said it and there was a prolonged pause as the word sank in. He smiled up at me as he gently pulled our lips together in a long and tonguing embrace. "That's okay, brother." He said softly without any hint of malice. I think he actually enjoyed it! I helped him up and he helped me out of my clothes, which were gathered up along with his and dumped in the tent, this time. I blushed again. He rummaged in his dry bag and produced some after sun lotion, which he handed to me, and said, "Do the honors would you?" He laid on his front as I gently soothed his red buttocks with the cool lotion gently felling and stroking my way around trying hard not to hurt him any more than I had already. A little while later, we reversed our roles as he soothed my sore skin. I don't know why, but he did my backside too. I let him, I think it was a display of trust on my part, more than anything, as I lay there. It was starting to get dark at the end of a long tiring day, as we lay there on the grass, two naked teenagers in a warming and affectionate embrace. I had my head on his shoulder and my left arm was draped across his stomach with my hand on his right thy. He had both of his arms wrapped around me. Some time later, I awoke to a warm but very exciting feeling between my legs. I lifted my head to find Paul gently fondling me. The sensations were out of this world as his hand did its magic until I saw the firework display again on my way back into orbit. But, this time, it felt different. His look of bliss changed to surprise as I let my first deposit go. We were both showered with my first ever volley. What a mess! How wonderful I felt. At last my body was starting to grow up in the areas I felt were most important. All I needed was for my voice to catch up with the rest of me. I quizzed Paul, about what was it would be like to taste someone's? "Someone's what?" He questioned "You know, their thingy." I said shyly "How should I know." He replied with a grin. I seemed, somehow to know exactly what he meant. I had a million questions to ask. All Paul could do was to put his finger over his lips and gently run his hand through my hair. "Why don't you try it? You could then answer some of your questions yourself." Paul said as he rolled over onto his back. Nervously I turned round and for some unexplained reason knelt astride his chest. Slowly I lowered my head towards his crotch. I could smell him, what an intoxicating aroma mixed with after sun lotion. I studied his stiffy closely and looking at the end. I started giggling like a schoolgirl. "What are you laughing at?" Paul asked with a scowl. "I was thinking about the film with a bunch of kids and a Pirate called One Eyed Willy." He started laughing too. I tentatively stuck my tongue out to touch the end but my courage failed me. So I started gently squeezing and rubbing instead. His nuts contracted just before he fired off a volley of shots. Paul was gently rubbing and pulling on me. The fact that I had bottled out didn't worry him. My naivety was self-evident by now as I continued my journey to the stars. It was now my turn to release a squeal of pleasure and my second ever load shot straight over Paul's neck and chest. He was expecting it this time. I rolled off and lay beside him, head to tail so to speak, gently stroking and nuzzling his thighs. We both lay there looking up at the stars as we calmed down; I suggested a quick dip in the river, tidy up and then hit the sack. We had a quick swim in the river, sorted the tent out and got our sleeping bags laid out before finishing off outside. We settled down to a warm but very close night, in more ways than one. The two of us curled up like spoons in a drawer. All to soon the sun would be up and so would we. We were breakfasted, loaded up ready to go before 8:30. Our parents were meeting us further up stream where they were going to take the camping kit from us before we could play, a technical term, in a nearby weir stream. We had arranged to meet up with some of the guys from the local canoe club who knew the weir and could also keep an eye on safety. Something we would reciprocate for them where possible. We met our parents as planned about five miles further up stream from the campsite and unloaded everything that was not essential while we told them all, well almost all, about our trip. With helmets and kagoules on we paddled off towards the weir and the voices we could hear above the roar of the water. As we approached our fathers were stood on the superstructure of the weir cameras etc at the ready, talking. We paddled on and were met by the Senior Instructor who checked we had the right equipment, helmets, buoyancy aids, you know the sort of stuff before he took us into the main part of the weir. Without harping on too much, during the next couple of hours we spent almost as much time in the water as we did in the boat. Both Paul and myself traveled home completely tired out and with an awful lot to ponder over before we met each other for our next trip which both of hoped wouldn't be to far off The author would like to thank boyAt Large for his help and encouragement. If you have any comments or suggestions please email me teller_of_tales@hotmail.com flamers will be ignored.