| Crying Deer is an Indian boy of fourteen. He's come |
| with his friends to the annual trade celebration of |
| Native and white trappers, meeting with a white man |
| named Paul. Together, they experience each other's |
| cultures in a celebration of their own. |

The water ran cold over Crying Deer's hand. He cupped them tightly to
take another drink from the spring. High above him was Sun Boy who reached
down with fiery beams over the teen's sweaty body while his throat burned
from the dust that had been brought up by the stomping horses at the
corral. The clear water was providing the boy with some relief.

A man spied on the Indian kneeling at the water pool. He also thirsted
but decided to watch the teenager before getting himself a drink. He
noticed the boy's tattooed shoulders were in the distinct style of the
Crow. Only a simple deerskin breechclout was worn over his slim body; no
war shirt. Much of his brown skin showed. The summer sun had darkened the
boy all over. An attractive quality in a savage, the white man thought. A
pleasant tingling filled his loins from looking over the Indian youth.

Paul Carlton had a fancy for boys. He enjoyed instructing them on the
pleasures that came from an erecting penis and what could be done to
satisfy its aching need. His last companionship had come from a boy of
thirteen named Benjamin. Their travels together brought them many sexual
adventures while a strong love had grown between them. It was now only a
sweet memory to the lonely man.

There had been other youths before Benjamin. Many treasured moments of
enjoying what a boy's small body had to offer him. Paul's favorite
approach was the `show me yours' game. He used the natural curiosity a boy
had mixed with game playing to get him to do naughty things. Paul would
trade showing off his long hairy dick for a peek at the boy's erected pole.
Once that was accomplished, it enabled the man to excite his new friend
towards further sexual instruction.

Sometimes the boy was reluctant to show his pole after seeing the man's
so Paul would daringly reach into the boy's pants to capture its hidden
excitement. With its hardness came the urgent need to use it. A teen boy
was always in need. His gentle handling coaxed out the boy's cum to his
hand but sometimes he even managed to suck it out. Younger boys were more
willing to try naughty games. They didn't think twice about skinny dipping
with the man in a pond or to cuddle with him from friendship or even to
kiss but little boys didn't have the maturity to play all of Paul's adult
games. Youths were often willing, though lacking in sexual fulfillment.

Paul smiled from his brief flashes of memories. They were very sweet.
Young boys were easy to touch but it took an older boy like Benjamin to
truly satisfy his grown man needs. The Crow youth at the spring looked to
be in his early teens. The same age as Benjamin though obviously from
wilder stock. Indians have a more open attitude about sex than white
Christian folk. At least, that's what Paul had heard.

The Indian teen was darkly tanned; his body strong from enduring
hardships that have left him well muscled in the arms and legs. He only
needed a few more summers of growth before transforming into a man. Long
black hair fell down the teenager's back, half-reaching to his covered
butt. That was another quality of a savage the white man admired. It
whispered to him a sense of cross-genderness

Crying Deer felt a warning chill down his spine. He knew that he was
being watched. A careful look around found him: a white man. The boy
lingered at the spring to determine his intent. There wasn't any fear in
him, only caution since the peace was being kept between their two Peoples
and was rarely broken at the Gathering. A flint knife tucked in his thong
belt also gave the teen some assurance.

The Indian boy was alone and without his horse. His companions were
back at the Gathering enjoying themselves. It would be a long run for him
if he had to take flight from this white man. Crying Deer wondered why he
had come to this distant spring. Not many people knew about it.

It occurred to the teen that the white man might simply be waiting his
turn to drink. Someone must have told him about the wondrous water that
bubbled up from the rocks. It was time to find out. Crying Deer stood up to
signal that he was finished drinking. He was surprised when the man stood
his ground and wouldn't approach. The boy wondered what was going on.

Paul came to his senses. He lowered his hungry eyes from the Indian
teenager and stepped up to the spring. Its water sprang from a fissure in
the broken stones with a swift, clear run. The man remembered his thirst
and knelt at the pool to drink while the Indian stood over him. He eyed the
boy's sweaty backside. It was an uneasy moment.

Crying Deer felt a chill go down his spine. He and seen where the white
man's eyes had fallen on him. `Was he interested in such things?' the boy
wondered. A few unmarried warriors in his tribe enjoyed the pleasurable
joining of their bodies to satisfy male lust. The Indian teen had never
tried it with a white man before.

To test the man's interest, Crying Deer flapped the cloths to his
breechclout as if drying the sweat from his body. The sound attracted the
white man. A shock of blue came from his eyes. The Indian boy was amazed by
their clear sky color.

A tense moment passed during their eye touching. Paul tried reading the
boy's behavior but saw nothing definite in those narrowing dark eyes. `Was
the teen only being playful?' the man wondered. He remained puzzled.
Indians were rare to show emotion he knew, especially in front of a
stranger. He continued to watch the boy flapping his deerskin breeches. It
provided him with brief naked views.

Paul saw that the boy's penis was brown and slightly erected. There was
a thick skin around it that kept its knob from showing. Some dark hair grew
from his groin. The man sensed that this teenager knew what to do with his
sex.

When the boy turned, Paul peeked through his flapping breeches for his
butt. It was lean yet softly muscled to match the power up from the teen's
sinewy legs. The cheeks were of lighter color than the rest of his sun
kissed body. The man lusted to have it. He wondered if the Indian teen ever
had his hole stuck into.

Crying Deer ended his silly game. He stepped to a tall tree stump and
rested his arm over it while studying the handsome white man. His hair was
golden like the sun. A shirt was draped over the man's broad right
shoulder with the tail of it falling down his muscled chest. There was
blond hair covering much of his body. The teen wondered how it would feel
next to his smooth skin

Sexual energy filled the teen from looking over the white man. The
growing bulge within his front flap couldn't be restrained. He felt the tip
of his erection pop out from his breechclout where it could be seen. No
embarrassment; the Indian boy felt much pride for his manly display.

Paul saw it. The teen's stiffening dick moved up along his front
breeches. He had an urge to reach out for it but felt a strange reluctance.
Perhaps he feared what the wild boy might do if he tried.

An awkward silence grew between them. Paul came up with a bold idea to
break the tension. He filled his cupped hands with water and stood up. The
Indian teen stood nearly to his chin. He had returned to flapping the two
breeches over his sweaty body when the man attacked.

Water struck the boy's chest and ran down his heated body to his waist.
Crying Deer was startled by the act and poised himself to respond in
severe fashion yet he saw no malice in the man's bright eyes. The white man
smiled. That changed the fierce expression on the Indian boy's face to a
sudden grin.

Paul revealed that his cupped hands were empty of water and gestured
that he could fill them again. The Indian boy spoke words that he didn't
understand. Hand gesturing was tried and the man took their meaning that
more water was welcomed over the teen's body. Paul eagerly stooped down to
the spring for more.

Crying Deer was amused by the white man's game. He enjoyed the water's
cooling affect over his body. An idea came to him. He pulled the rear
cloth from his thong belt and soaked it in the small spring. It didn't
surprise him to see the white man staring at his uncovered butt. A lusting
Crow warrior would be quick to take its meaning. He wondered if the white
man was going to stick into him.

A callused hand cupped one of the boy's brown cheeks. It sent a
lightning bolt through Crying Deer's asshole. His penis tingled. The white
man caressed his bottom with obvious lust for it. He moaned in response to
the man's handling.

Crying Deer turned to face the white man. He saw the bulge in his pants
and went to it with his exploring hand. His fingers traced out the hard
curved length trapped within. The man's blue eyes shined with sexual
excitement.

The Indian boy fingered the pants button. He unfastened it and was
dismayed to find a line of more buttons going down. He tasked himself to
loosening them as the white man watched with growing amusement. It excited
the teen that his companion was allowing himself to be undressed.

When the front of the man's pants was opened, Crying Deer reached in to
pull out his cock. It was a shocking pale color to the rosy knob that oozed
in his palm. Strong as a warrior's and full of need, the boy knew. He could
feel its throbbing.

Paul gasped. He was heartened by the Indian's directness and knew that
he was experienced with male sex. The man reached around the boy's slim
waist to rub over his brown butt. A knowing smile filled the teen's face.
He turned around while keeping a hold of the man's long cock. It was led
between his cheeks onto his hole. The boy backed onto its stiffness,
feeling the pained thrill of getting his butt penetrated by a needing man.
Strong hands gripped his hips.

True to his name, Crying Deer released a strong voiceless huff. He was
pained by the tight fitting of white cock through his Indian hole. The
man's soft groin hair tickled against the cheeks of his butt when their
bodies fully joined. The boy reached back to the man's rear end and pulled
over it to get them to begin fucking.

Paul looked down with awe at the cute brown butt he was sticking
through. It amazed him by how quickly he was in conquest of the Indian boy.
His hands gripped the teen's slim waist and beginning thrusts were made.
`Oh, so good to have my cock stabbing through a boy's tight hole again!'

Crying Deer made a loud huff whenever the man's cock went deeply through
his asshole. It was of reach to press against his squaw spot the sent an
intense thrill into his erection. The boy thought about reaching into his
front flap to pull over it. He decided to wait until after the man was
finished to see what he'd give in return for mounting him.

Their male copulation was being watched. A Crow brave stood at a
distance from the spring with his mouth open and dark eyes wide. He saw the
contrast of big white man pounding into the smaller brown boy that seemed
an unmatched contest. Was it being forced?

Crying Deer felt the presence of one of his People. He turned his head
and smiled at the young brave watching them. Little Horse had been newly
named in a rite that all sixteen-year-olds went through in a passage from
boyhood into men. It was a harsh test of fasting, sleepless nights and
enduring pain from wood sticks the warriors beat them with. He wondered if
Little Horse was interested in joining into the sexual rite he was enduring
at the hands of this white man.

Paul had his eyes closed. He was too deep in sex's powerful spell to
notice the Indian brave walking to their side. His cock was in control. The
man stuck it as far as he could into the willing Indian youth before
pulling back. His forward stabs were even backed into, deepening his quick
penetrations. `This boy is experienced.'

Little Horse was glad to see that it wasn't being forced. White men
were known to take what they could get their hands on be it the land,
rivers, trapped animals, Indian horses or squaws. He wanted to be sure that
this boy wasn't being raped. As he watched their male joining, the teen
kept smiling back at him. There was an unspoken suggestion growing between
them that caused a tightening in the front of the brave's breechclout. He
had heard stories about Crying Deer.

A loud groan erupted from the white man. Little Horse smiled at what was
being achieved. He watched the man's hairy groin rub harshly against the
boy's backside while muscles flexed violently through his pale butt, an
indication that he was seeding. It was similar to what the brave had once
spied on of a warrior's ending climax inside the captured squaw he raped: a
loud moan of male ecstasy as his butt madly humped to deepen his spurting
cock inside her. He'd not seen it done between a white man and his
boy-squaw before.

Paul sucked in breaths. His cock no longer gifted him with sweet
thrills but throbbed as if all worn out. It was a nice thing this Indian
boy offered him. How long has it been since last he stuck through a
youth's asshole? The man couldn't remember. `Too long.'

He gently pulled from the Crow teen's butt and saw that his cock had
gotten dirty from the act. It startled him to see an Indian brave looking
down at his revealing nakedness from only a stone's throw away. Paul
thought of running. He kept a cool head and dropped to the spring to wash
the shit from his shrinking penis. The water was chilling to his manhood.

"I see your need," spoke Crying Deer to the waiting brave. He
mischievously reached out and tugged Little Horse's front flap from his
thong belt. A giggle sprang from his lips by what he saw. A swollen monster
dong sprang from the brave's groin that must have been the reason for his
naming. It would be a challenge to fit that inside his body!

Little Horse was a newly named man in his tribe. He'd been feeling the
urges from his loins to take a wife but one had to be traded for with
horses, animal hides or many copper beads coming to her father. The boy in
front of him offered a quick relief that wouldn't bring shame upon them. It
was known that Crying Deer welcomed men's needs so he was deciding if his
cock wanted to stick in. He didn't know if a male's rear hole could get him
to cum.

Crying Deer looked into the brave's eyes, guessing at what was being
decided since it was a concern he'd come across before: was his rear
opening a proper place to satisfy a man? Lusting warriors told him it felt
tighter around their thrusts while preventing a child from coming; no
lasting ties to bound them. He forced the decision by backing onto Little
Horse's cock. Its swollen knob pushed through his slimy hole with a very
tight fit of manhood up his butthole. Their male joining wasn't protested.
It pleased Crying Deer that he was going to be seeded twice; a struggle
ensuing between the white man's sperm in his body with a Crow brave's.

Paul dried his cock in hand as he squatted below the rutting Indians.
He'd never witnessed an act of male fucking other than his own performance
in a boy. He slowly stood up to watch it. The new Indian seemed clumsy with
his thrusts. They were being coaxed by the teenager with his hand reaching
back to the brave's ass pulling over it in a fast timed beat. Their brown
bodies looked evenly matched. By the long hair of the person in front, it
could almost seem that it was an Indian girl taking the man's stabs behind
her in doggie fashion. Yet the Indian behind also wore long black hair and
he could see the telling male bulge pushing the boy's front breech. Its
need called out to him.

Crying Deer noticed the white man's interest for the front of his body.
With his free hand, he pulled his front cloth away to reveal himself. The
man was drawn to his display of male excitement. Not a thick dick like
Little Horse's but it was long enough and full of need. He pulled over its
foreskin to get his brown knob to pop in and out. That became too much for
the white man not to respond!

Paul squatted in front of the Indian boy. His hands pressed lightly
against the teen's groin while his mouth hungrily kissed over the tight sac
of balls. A giggle came from the boy. The man mouthed over the base of the
Indian's warm erection, kissing higher, sucking over the brown skinny shaft
until reaching its sticky knob. His taste of boy was sweet. In the next
moment, he swallowed Indian dick and sucked on it hard. His hands crept
around the boy's hips to prevent him from getting away.

Crying Deer was pleased that both sides of his body were being
pleasured. The brave's stabs through his backside were for his squaw
thrills while the white man's mouthing of his erection in front was for his
male thrills. Both combined to build up pleasure in his body. It became too
much for the boy to endure.

Little Horse felt the white man's knuckles against him. They tickled
the hairs of his groin whenever he stuck deep into Crying Deer's hole. He
heard the sucking sound and could imagine what was happening on the other
side of the teen's body. For a man to offer his mouth for a boy's
pleasuring seemed a shameful thing. Would he dare to swallow the dick's
release? The brave continued with his manly act of mounting the willing
squaw-boy.

Paul was very experienced with sucking. He knew when to be gentle;
little boys were shy and didn't have anything in their balls to ache them
for a release so the man knew to mouth over their skinny pee-pees until
they cried out in sweet pain. With a dry release, youths could be sucked on
all day to give them repeated intense thrills. They never seemed to tire
from it! Early teen boys had growing dicks that the man could bring into
play his tongue and a harder sucking. Their releases were clear and sweet
like sugar water. Like the little boys, an early teen had only to rest a
few minutes before enjoying more sucking to get him to a wet climax again.

Older teen boys liked more roughhousing. Paul would grip their flexing
butts and attack their hard dicks with tongue, strong sucking and a quick
bobbing of his head to run his tight lips over their slippery shafts. Their
pleasuring could be prolonged and many boys preferred that for when they
finally came into the man's thirsty mouth with a strong flow, it emptied
their balls of lust. Many hours or even a day had to pass before such
teenagers could be tempted into being sucked again.

Paul didn't know how to judge the brown cock's need in his mouth. It was
attached to an Indian body of wild heritage. The man decided to give his
all to the teen boy. If he liked to get fucked, he was probably
experienced like an older teen to having his dick sucked on hard! A fierce
bobbing was made over the teen's groin as the man labored to bring the
skinny erection to fruition. He could taste its sweetness already; a taste
mingling with that of sour fat. The man knew where it had come from. Boys
with foreskins didn't always wash under them to keep their penises clean.
It didn't bother him though.

Crying Deer often huffed from the thick cock's passage through his
tight hole. He was proud of Little Horse. His sexual performance was
making him a proven man. Whenever he decided to take a wife, he'd know how
to do her properly and would recall having learned about mounting from what
they were doing this day. It was very pleasing to the squaw-boy.

Paul sensed a hardening to the Indian boy's erection in his mouth. Its
sweet flavor intensified; `close to coming out!' The man pulled back and
concentrated his efforts on the swelling knob against his tongue. He
tickled it into exploding.

Little Horse heard the boy's outcry. His dick was squeezed by the ringed
butthole muscles that made it come out. Strongly! He rubbed his hairy groin
against the soft cheeks while keeping himself deep in that slimy ass. His
releases were filling the boy up. A low moan came from his mouth when he
was finished.

Crying Deer felt his greatest thrills and shot. His body released from
the front of him while he took the male releases from the brave behind him.
Both pleasures combined into a fantastic sexual experience for him.
Something he'd never felt before. It left his body drained of energy so he
held onto the white man's shoulders until he could recover.

Paul enjoyed the strong spurts against his tongue. Not sweet like an
early teen boy; he realized that the Indian must be older than he had
figured. He swallowed the thick cum and relished its salty taste, sticky
down his throat. A low moan was heard from the other Indian. He too must
have shot off his dick.

The spring bubbled in the man's ears. It almost sounded like the water
was giggling at him. He knew that boys often wondered why a man would
want to suck off their dicks as if it were a degrading act. It wasn't. Paul
wanted to offer boys a sweet release from their erections and he liked both
tastes of cum: sweet and watery from early teen boys (none if they were
younger) or thick and salty from older teens. In turn, he would get off by
beating his cock in hand as they watched wide eyed and expectant or allow
their hands a try, sometimes a close embrace from a naked belly rub,
sucking and even rarer, fucking the boy's hole!

Paul had an older teen in his mouth though he wouldn't have guessed it
from the skinny dick. He sucked down its length to get out all the boy's
cum. The Indian brave pushed on the butt he held and the three male bodies
disconnected.

Crying Deer's dark eyes glowed. After smiling at the white man's
offering, he turned to look at Little Horse. Embarrassment filled the
brave's face. His dick had a telling butt stain over its shaft and the knob
of it dripped cum. Seeing it proved to Crying Deer that his butthole held
the full load of his sperm. Knowing that gave him a sudden inner climax
like a strong satisfaction and happiness. The sensation was very powerful.

Little Horse reached down for his front flap over the ground. It was
stepped on by Crying Deer in play and he wouldn't lift up his foot. A
strong tugging won the brave back his deerskin cloth. He hastily dropped it
over his belt thong to hide his soiled dick. What he'd done with the boy
gave him mixed feelings that were hard to sort through until he could be
alone.

Paul took the Indian boy's hands into his own and stood up. He watched
the other Indian making a hasty retreat. Crying Deer turned to watch it
with dismay though it didn't surprise him. When he turned to face the white
man, he was startled by a mouth pressing onto his. The boy turned his head
away.

It wasn't surprising to Paul that the boy didn't want to kiss. Only
little boys would try and often liked it but after the age of nine or ten,
it just wasn't done. He moved his head away and feigned a smile. The boy
gave him a fond squeeze from his slim brown hands in his.

Crying Deer giggled. He saw that the white man's pants were twisted
around his legs and threatened to trip him up if he wasn't careful. The
boy's eyes widened. He saw the blond hair that grew thickly over both pale
legs. A longing came into him to feel the blond mane and he did.

Paul paused from pulling up his pants to give the Indian boy his moment
of exploration. He saw that the teen's brown legs were smooth and hairless
like most of his slim body. If he could get them both naked, it would make
for a wonderful embrace of boy smooth on his manly hairy skin. A new love
making experience for them both, he was sure.

Crying Deer stood up. He looked down at his hands as if expecting
something to be in them. The white man pulled up his pants and fastened
their many buttons. His shirt was put on next and its tails were tucked
within his pants. He stood clothed before the teenager.

The boy felt a trickling down his balls. He stepped into the small pool
and used the spring's water to clean himself. No pushing was made to empty
his bowels; he wanted to keep the men's medicine seed in his butt for a
while longer.

Paul patiently waited. When he saw that the boy was ready to leave the
spring, he fetched the two deerskin breeches and handed them over. The
teenager dropped each flap over the belt thong tied around his slim waist.
In a moment, he was back to being properly covered (for an Indian).

`How you called?' gestured Crying Deer.

Paul didn't know many hand signs but he could guess at what the boy was
asking him. He pointed at himself and said, "Paul." He repeated his name
until the teen pronounced it properly. The man pointed back at the Indian
and in reply, was given a long string of vowels and consonants. They were
too difficult to repeat so he asked what the name meant with careful
gesturing.

The Indian boy tried to answer the white man. He began by pointing at
his eyes and making a motion of tears dropping from them. A wailing noise
was also made. Then he made the hand gesture for `deer'. When the man
returned a puzzled look, the boy made the animal's image in the dirt with a
stick. He put antlers on its head so the ignorant white man would think he
was drawing a horse.

Paul nodded with understanding. He spoke the Indian boy's name in
English: "Cries like a deer." A smile erupted on the man's face when he
recalled hearing the teen's voiceless huffs when fucking him. Yes. They had
sounded similar to what a deer cries out in warning when spooked.

Crying Deer gestured at the man what his strange-sounding name of
"Pawll" meant. No answer was given. That didn't surprise the Indian since
he'd heard that the White People didn't give themselves meaningful names;
only strange sounds!

Paul reached for the boy's right hand and strongly shook it while he
held the teen's shoulder in a fond grasp. A shy grin came in response; eyes
lowering. It was the first time he'd seen an Indian blush and proved they
weren't always so fierce and inhuman as he's heard.

Together, they walked back to the Gathering. It was a very noisy place
with the white men singing and dancing with each other, some just yelling
from having drunk too much whiskey. The Indians beat on drums. That was
expected since it was the first day of celebration. There were many betting
games in progress: horse racing, wrestles, card playing and the such. The
Northwest Company was paying cash for the trappers' beaver furs and animal
hides which in turn would be spent on supplies for another year of
trapping.

Paul was here to sell food goods to them. His small wagon was filled
with salted beef, sacks of four and corn meal, coffee, tea, hard biscuits
and many miscellaneous items the men would want. He knew that much more
profit could be made at a trappers' rendezvous when compared to setting up
a grocery in town. His traveling store could charge high prices since the
trappers coming half way out of the wilderness had no where else to buy
from.

There was usually a handy boy with Paul. He'd pay the youth to help him
with the sales of his goods at the Gathering and to perform many other
tasks needing to be done. Not the least of them was to share the man's bed.
Benjamin had been a cute boy who was also a good worker for Paul. Sadly, he
had died from a fever last winter. Paul was without the companionship of a
boy at this Gathering. He could only enjoy the money he'd make here; no
nightly love making.

Paul turned to the Indian teen at his side with a smile. This year's
Gathering was turning out more favorably than expected. He noticed they
were still holding hands but that didn't concern him. Many of the trappers
here indulged in same sex relations when the women were scarce so their
display of affection would only bring them knowing bearded grins from the
other men along with jealous nods.

Two trappers approached. Paul remembered selling to them from a previous
Gathering and knew they were life-long companions; always at each other's
side. He noticed that their mules were free of skins while a money sack at
the taller man's waist clinked as he walked.

"You going to open that there wagon of yours soon?" asked the shorter
man.

Paul nodded. "Yes. I'll be set up later in the afternoon if you're
ready to buy."

"Hmm. Do you have cod oil?"

"I sure do," Paul answered with a laugh. He knew what these men used it
for. The taller man looked over his Indian companion with a knowing grin
but said nothing. He was a quiet giant. All the talking and thinking was
left to his lover.

The trappers went on their way. Paul led his Indian friend deeper into
the Gathering to see the goings on. The noise was almost unbearable. Men
shouted with happy glee, money belts filled and their bellies full of
liquor. It was a joyful time that capped their long hunting season. Around
them sprang up tents that served as temporary stores to sell the trappers
what they needed to begin the cycle all over again. Supplies at very
inflated prices.

Paul felt his hand being tugged on when a group of Indians ran towards
them. He saw that they were Crow. The white man found himself surrounded
with half-naked savages with smiling faces and wide dark eyes falling on
him. He kept a tight hold of his teenager. The Indians talked in their soft
voices with his young companion for a moment and then they were gone like
leaves in the wind. Paul was relieved that his boy remained with him

A hand gesture was made by Cries-like-a-deer that he had to go. Paul
nodded to hide his disappointment. He watched the teenager run away to
parts unknown. His heart felt heavy.

The long hot afternoon turned to evening with Paul earning much money
from selling goods from his wagon. He missed having a handy boy. Alone, he
faced the hoard of eager trappers pointing at things they wanted to buy.
The ordeal left him exhausted. His small wagon was closed up for the night.

Nighttime was not the end to a Gathering celebration. The trappers were
even more determined to make merriment with their voices raised in drunken
song and shouting contests. Bon fires were made for dancing around. Paul
felt too tired to join into it. He had traveled a long way to reach the
Snake River Rendezvous with his goods, and after a long day of sales was
content to bunk in until morning.

To Paul's surprise, he managed to sleep in spite of the noise. He buried
himself deep within his blankets for warmth under the wagon. The evening
had turned cool. In the deepest part of the night, a warmth slipped into
the blankets with him. Its familiarity kept Paul from awakening.

The sun began its slow rising when Paul noticed a rising of his own. Not
from a need to piss... He woke up to find a slim hand reached inside his
pants, grasping his dick in masturbation. Benjamin was always doing that to
him in the morning. Paul fell back into a light sleep while enjoying the
boy's handling. His dreaming was very sweet.

Paul was startled awake by the wet sensation of a mouth around his hard
dick. The urgent hands around his butt forced his stabs. It didn't seem
right. He knew that Benjamin wasn't keen to sucking him off, preferring
instead to have his little asshole fucked. That's when he noticed the
animal-smelling cloth next to his face. It wasn't his boy that he was
bunked with but a wild Indian!

Paul lifted the teen's deerskin breeches so that he could return the
favor. He found Cries-like-a-deer's brown erection and eagerly swallowed
it. His hands reached back for the youth's slim butt. It began flexing in
beat to his sucking. They did each other until Paul cried out as the Indian
drank him. The act tired the white man who pushed on the teen's groin so
that he could breathe.

Paul rested on his belly. He was glad that the blankets around their
bodies hid what they had done. Crying Deer moved over him with a hungry
mouth. He felt his butt being mouthed with the boy's tongue darting deep
between his cheeks until reaching his hole. In curiosity, he spread his
legs to let the Indian inside him. It was a thrilling sensation the man had
never experienced before.

Crying Deer tongued into Paul's hole with his intent to return the act
of love they had performed from yesterday. He preferred getting fucked but
felt a need to try the manly act himself. There seemed to be no protest
from Pawll. The teen put more spit into the man's butt before lifting
himself over the hairy body to align their sex. A quick stab put his skinny
dick into the man's butthole. He began his fucking in earnest.

Paul was unprepared for what had happened to him. He enjoyed having his
hole licked by the Indian when he found himself getting raped. The teen's
erection felt like a flint knife in his innards. Much pain! There was a
brief struggle ensuing between their bodies until they separated.
Crying Deer was surprised by the man's rejection.

'My fault,' Paul thought to himself. He realized that allowing his butt
to get licked had signaled his intent to having it fucked. An act of love
he'd never allowed before and wasn't about to start. He found himself
facing the Indian. There was a plain expression on the boy's face that
didn't tell him much.

Paul reached his arms around to embrace the teen. He wanted them to
remain together under his blankets to share in other acts of love.
Crying Deer smiled. He accepted the white man's warmth next to him.

It bothered the man that they couldn't talk. He wanted to learn more
about his new friend; the things he did and what he planned for his life.
Instead, they simply looked at one another. Cries-like-a-deer was revealing
himself through his softening facial expressions. Paul's face returned that
love. When he reached to the Indian youth with his lips, his kiss was
accepted.

Their embrace tightened. Paul kicked his pants down his legs while
Crying Deer pulled away his breechclout. Naked, they pressed their bodies
together in unrushed love making. Their dicks filled with nice thrills.
Hands reached low for each other's butts to pull on. Soft body hair tickled
against the Indian's smoothness. They kissed with a deepening love for one
other. Passerby's could only hear low moans emanating from the heap of
blankets moving under the small wagon.

The Indian youth couldn't get enough of Pawll's kisses. It was a new
sensation to the boy to use his lips for sexual expression. He felt swept
away by all the combining pleasures of making love with the white man. The
hairy body in the youth's arms moved against his smoothness. It was a
tickly sensation. Between their bellies, their long dicks mashed together.
Chests rubbed. Their hands held each other's butts in beat to their male
thrusts like handling warm drums.

Paul felt the frantic boy's striking against his groin and heard the
voiceless huff. Cries-like-a-deer came. His loins were slow to reach climax
because he had already come out earlier. Yet he tried. His body began to
sweat from the effort. The Indian boy loosened his hands from around his
body so that he could turn himself around in their blankets.

It didn't surprise Paul that the Indian youth wanted to get fucked. He
aimed his dick between the soft warm cheeks and stuck through the boy's
asshole. It was an easy penetration. The slimy tightness felt wonderful
around his aching dick and with only a few savage thrusts, he came. No loud
outcry from him. He slowed his heated body while keeping the youth in his
arms. They rested for a long spell while buried in the layers of blankets
below the wagon.

The Gathering was a joyous time that made for new beginnings. Paul
relished the brief time he spent with Cries-like-a-deer with nightly love
making, but when the trappers left with their year's supplies and the fur
traders packed up, each went their separate way back to their own peoples.
The white man and the Indian boy looked forward to meeting again next year.

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End of: AT-THE-GATHERING "Willow Bird, Warrior" is now in its own directory