THE MOOSE HEAD LAKE KIDNAPPING by Ben Ezra Jacobson
My name is Byron Ephraim Levi. My parents called me Byron most of my childhood. My friends called Ron for short. The teachers at school called me Levi. Sometimes I was not sure who I was. Both of my parents taught at one of the east central universities in Illinois. This summer was going to be different. My parents were going to Europe for the summer on Sabbatical from the university. My father teaches Physics. My mother teaches Anthropology and I possess none of their scholastic abilities...with the exception of one...MUSIC. Both of my parents play classical piano...and I started learning music when I was two. It must have been about age of four that I discovered that if I played a piece once...it stuck in my mind like a piece of Tangle Foot Fly paper...to those who are old enough to remember that household commodity. By age sixteen, I was a professional Geek or Nerd as we were called in those day. My parents sent me to a musical charter school where I excelled in piano...but it was an easy amusement and what I wanted was some adventures. There is just so much academics one can absorb. I wanted to go to Europe with my parents... but, they did not want me. My best friend was the son of one of my dad's colleagues. This boy's name was Brian Biffle. We all called in Biff.
Every summer, Dr. Biffle and some of his colleagues would take their sons with them and fly to Moose Head lake somewhere in upper Maine for a few weeks of fishing and camping, at what was referred to up there as, "Great Camps." Great Camps met that you stayed in a fairly modern cabin. You had water and toilets. There were a group of cabins in these Great Camps...and a central facility for barbecues, cards, billiards and the sharing of embellished stories.
My parents told me that I had been invited by Professor Biffle and his son Brian to go with them to Maine. I did not want to go to some god-forsaken place and get chewed to bits by mosquitoes or worse. What about moose or bears? I was not going to go. End of discussion.
. . . . . . . . . . .
I hate flying. After a couple of Dramamine tablets and leaning my seat back a little on the commercial jet liner and closing my eyes...the motion sickness feeling began to ease.
"Dad," said Biff, "Ron doesn't look good at all. I think we should give him a sick sack before he barfs all over everyone."
"That might be a good idea, Brian," professor Biffle had replied handing him a bag. "Keep it handy, just in case."
"If he thinks the jet liner is a challenge, wait until we get into the pontoon plane," Biff countered.
"What's that," I said ?
"Nothing Ron," Dr. Biffle responded, "Brian is just thinking out loud."
I opened my eyes and leaned his toward Biff.
"What's this about a pontoon plane," I whispered.
Biff looked at his dad to see if he was paying attention and found him engaged in conversation with another member of the party across the aisle. Looking back towards me, he swallowed the lump in his throat and tried to explain.
"When we get to Augusta, we will change planes. All eight of us will board a sea plane that will fly us to Moose Head lake. You'll love it. We will fly close enough to the ground that you can actually see the forests and the lakes," Biff assured me.
"Biff...I don't know if I can do this," I replied. "If I am queasy now, what will it be like in a small plane?"
"Ron, haven't you flown with your parents before?"
"Yes," I respond... "but I had my parents with me to keep me calm."
"Well, I am with you now," Biff reassured me, "and I promise not to let anything happen to you."
"You're not going to hold my hand are you," I jested?
"Would it help," Biff responded with a jab to my ribs?
"It might when we are landing," I teased back.
Despite my fears and anxieties, I handled the landing of the air liner in fine stead. We carried our luggage and fishing gear to the sea plane that was waiting for us. Our pilot was a young guy named Jim Cooper who could not have been any older than 25 or 26 years of age. I once more became anxious.
"Biff, he looks like a teenager. Surely this guy is not old enough to fly a model gas airplane let alone a regular passenger plane," I had asked..?
"He looks young, but he is 26 years old and has flown us to camp the last two years that we have been here. His dad is also a swamp pilot. Trust us...he is one of the best," Biff admonished.
"Hey Biff... whose the greenie," our pilot asked?
"Jim, this is my high school buddy Ron Levi. He is going to join us for some fishing," Biff replied.
"Greenie," I asked...with eyebrows raised?
"Bush talk," said Jim, "for new man out and not fond of flying."
I laughed, "Well, that would be me."
I extended my hand to shake with Jim.
"Don't worry kid," Jim answered back, "you'll be an expert at fishing and flying by Autumn."
"Autumn," I said, with a shocked look on his face?
"Yeah...you guys will be here with us until Labor Day," Jim returned.
All of a sudden, everything went black. I guess I sort of crumpled on the tarmac and fell backwards onto my back pack. Everyone grabbed at me to keep me from hitting my head. I was down only for a minute or so and with some water patted onto my face, began to open my eyes again.
"What happened," I whispered to Biff?
"Nothing," Biff lied, "it's the thin air up here. You will be fine. Just take a few deep breaths every now and then."
They got me onto my feet and into the plane. With all the gear and supplies loaded, Jim took off for Moose Head Lake. They kept me busy with discussions about food supplies and menus. What did I like to eat and what was my least favorite food. Fortunately, I seemed to be one who was fond of about everything but entrails such as liver, kidneys, tongue, brains...you know, all things you throw out.
We landed on Moose Head lake on the pontoons and glided up to the dock where staff from the great camps were there to help us unload.
Charley Bivens, the Great Camps director met us at the plane.
"Good news and bad news gents. The bad news is that Rocky Bay camp is not going to be available to you this year. We had a fire in there a few days ago and it is not fit to live in...but if you don't mind a cabin on one of the islands...we have Loon lodge available. It can sleep all eight of you plus your guides. We can let you have it for the same price as Rocky Bay Camp. `Tweren't your fault they had the fire."
Dr. Biffle stepped forward, "Sounds like a bargain Charley. What do you guys think? Dave, Bill, Hugh, Tristan, Glenn?"
There was universal head nodding.
"We'll do it, Charley," Dr. Biffle replied.
"Good," I'll need a signature here Doc. "You boys can load the two boats there with your things...and the boys will be ready to scoot you over to Loon Lodge Island."
Within twenty minutes, we were packed and sitting in the two boats headed for the island that was named Loon Lodge. I looked at Biff expecting something terrible...some ratty old cabin with fishing gear and fish heads laying about everywhere...but when we pulled up to the dock, I felt encouraged. The Loon Lodge was fairly new and it's setting was what one would call a fisherman's dream.
The boys, as Charley had called them were actually our guides. They looked like they might have some native American ancestry. Both had black hair and reddish sort of faces. One was named Keith Kline and the other was Sam Hollister. Keith was the oldest, maybe 40 years old and Sam was half his age and a cousin. Both had lived around Moose Head lake all their lives. Keith and his family lived on the mainland while Sam was a single young buck who had lived with his mom until a year or so ago...when he went to work for Charley and now lived with Charley and his family at Deer Hill Run...a small farm that was adjacent to the lake.
The lodge was a large structure. It had a great room that was huge and connected to a large dinning room that was set up for twelve and an open adjacent kitchen. Upstairs were six bedrooms, set up for double occupancy. Biff and Ron picked out the bedroom at the back of the second story and closest to the back stairway to the kitchen. It had two twin beds and was clean and cozy. Four of the bedrooms were set up with double beds while the other two pair had twin beds. Bedrooms were on a first come first serve basis. The twin rooms went fast.
Even in June, the nights can be quite cool. The large fireplace in the great room had a fire burning there already. The dinning room also had a fireplace. Someone had laid a fire on the hearth but it was not yet lit. The bedrooms all had small heating stoves that burned wood. Fire wood was a commodity that was abundant in this part of the state.
It was early evening by the time all the gear was unpacked and placed in it's proper places. Keith was the chef this evening and Sam was his helper. By 6:00 PM they had plenty of food laid out on the table. We all dived in.
"What is there about camping that stimulates a voracious appetite," Biff's father had said.
"You're not in the lecture hall now, Biffle. Can't you just say that the grub smells good," Cook Keith said with a big grin.
"I hope you don't expect me to burp after meals and pass gas, Keith," he returned, "because you are going to be sadly disappointed if you do."
We all laughed.
After the evening meal, the fishermen adjourned to the great room for cards and beer.
"What kind of cards, you play," asked Sam?
"Are you kidding," said professor Biffle, " We're all collegiate men...we're going to play bridge."
"Bridge, that's a sissy game," Sam replied.
"Keep your legging on Sam...he's just bull shitting you. They're going to play poker," Keith responded...slapping Sam across the back. "Jeeze...you're sure gullible."
"Am not," he answered back. "It was a civil question...and deserves a civil answer."
"You're right Sam," said one of the other professors. "We were just having some fun with you. We're going to play poker. You want to come join us," he asked.
"No sir," Sam replied. " I ain't no good at cards."
The professors all looked at each other and burst out laughing.
"What the matter," Sam asked, looking from face to face.
"Nothing Sam," Keith answered. "You've got the table to clear and dishes to wash. Chop - Chop, let's get with it."
Sam left the great room looking like a puppy who had been scolded.
Biff stretched out on the sofa, with his shoes off and was looking at a magazine of advertisements for Moose Head Lake activities. I noticed the piano sitting at the back of the room and touched a few of the keys... finding it reasonably in tune. I sat down on the bench and played a few bars of "Rhapsody in Blue" by Gershwin. My playing caught everyone's attention. They stopped the poker game to listen. Sam came out of the kitchen where they were finishing the clean up and stood by the old piano and watched me play it. He was obviously moved.
"You play good," Sam said, "What's that song called?"
" `Rhapsody in Blue,' by Gershwin," I answered.
"I've heard it before," Sam said... "you make it sound good."
"Thanks," I replied, pleased with the compliment.
"Play something else," Sam asked?
I smiled and played another piece of music.
"I know that one," Sam replied.
"Sure you do," said Keith. "No television and no radio...yet you know the piece he is playing."
"That's right smart ass...I do," Sam answered back, agitated.
We realized that Keith's delight was in keeping his young assistant and cousin stirred up all the time.
"You give the kid the correct title and I will buy you dinner on our next trip to the village," Keith answered back, sure of his own superior knowledge.
"You're on," Sam spat back at him. " It's called, `MacArthur Park'."
"Haw," Keith sneered. "Ron...what you call that piece of music."
I could hardly keep a straight face.
"Keith, it's a piece called `MacArthur Park'.
Sam jumped up and did a little dance to the last strains of the music.
"I told you so," Sam snapped at Keith.
"Shut up...you tricked me," Keith said and stomped out of the cabin.
All the fishermen laughed as Keith stomped out of the cabin in an embellished huff. Sam looked so pleased with himself.
"He'll get over it by morning," he replied.
Shortly, Keith came back into the cabin and went upstairs. We heard a sound of something heavy being dumped on the floor in the hall way. Sam ran up the stairs.
"What the hell you think you are doing," he shouted.
"Kicking you out of my room you, you sonofabitch, I don't want to share a room with damn know it all."
Again everyone laughed.
Professor Biffle went upstairs to see if he could help smooth everything over. When he returned downstairs, he shrugged his shoulders. It appeared that none of them were going to resolve the problem with Keith's ego.
"Brian...I told Sam to put his things in your and Ron's room. He says he will sleep on the floor."
"Ok, Dad," Biff responded. "We'll make shift together for tonight."
I continued to play pieces of music from memory while Sam sat on the floor very near by and listened to every note.
By midnight...as the fires in the fireplaces were dying...someone called bed time. Sam had built fires in all the wood stoves in the bedrooms except Keith's. If he wanted a fire...he could do it himself.
When I came into the bedroom, Sam was standing before me completely naked. He turned back his sleeping bag that was lying on the woven braided rug in the center of the room and climbed in.
"What," said Sam. " You not see another man go to bed before?"
I gulped, "Well not go to bed naked."
"It's the most sanitary way to sleep. Your skin can breath and you do not sweat so much. If you have to go piss...don't have to hunt for pants opening. You get hard on in the night...easier to get off. Much better to sleep naked," Sam informed him.
Biff came into the room, added a log to the fire and turned off the light. By the light coming from the stove door vent, he undressed, taking all of his clothing off and laying the items on the chair at the foot of the bed. Stark naked, Biff climbed into his bed and pulled the blanket up to his waist. I took a hard gulp, dropped my pants and stepped out of my boxers and laid my clothing on the chair at the end of my bed. Biff had turned to face the wall and was almost immediately asleep...but I was going to bed with a hard on...a full, seven inch, upward curving erection. I climbed into my bed and pulled the blanket up to my waist, my bare chest uncovered. Sam who was still awake and watching me, grinned with white teeth reflecting the light from the stove. He threw his blanket back as if he were too warm. He had a full boner himself. An eight inch uncut cock with a lot of straight black hair around it. He turned so I could get a good look. I could see Sam's white teeth shining in the night light as he flashed a big smile. I smiled back...and uncovered my lower torso.
Sam turned on his back and took his hard appendage in his hand and with just a few strokes, caused it to erupt shooting white semen all over his chest. Witnessing this display, I wrapped my fingers around my own cut appendage and with a few short jerks...was also erupting onto my chest. Sam got up and grabbed a towel off of the towel rack by the sink and handed it to me to wipe my chest. I passed it back to Sam who wiped his own chest.
I expected Sam would return the towel immediately but before he did so...he reached down and took my appendage in his hand and felt it... then did the same with my testicles and pubic hair. It felt good in his hand.
I had never touched another male's penis in my life. Slowly I reached out and took Sam's organ in my hand and felt it's warmth. I gave it a squeeze and was surprised that it once more began to grow until the foreskin was pulled back and his whole unit was curving upward in front of my face. I gave it a few tugs. It felt good in my hand. Not knowing just what was expected of me. I let go. Sam smiled and took the towel back to the sink and after a piss in the stool...crawled back into his sleeping bag.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . .
The sun had risen and light was shining in the room. Biff climbed out of bed and was trying to hide his morning wood. Grabbing some clothes from his bag, went to the bathroom to shower. When the sound of water cascading in the shower was going on...Sam climbed out of his sleeping bag, also with a massive erection. He turned where I could see it. Listening for the continued sound of water running, he walked over to my bed and stood there looking down at me. I did not know what was expected. I reached out and wrapped my hand around Sam's rock hard erection. It again felt good to th touch.
"Suck," asked Sam?
"I...uh...couldn't," I replied. "I've never done that in my life Sam. I don't know anything about it."
Sam knelt down next to my bed and threw my covers back. I too had a hard on. Sam bent over me and popped my penis into his mouth and went up and down on it. I got excited quickly as I hunched up to meet his down ward movements. In just seconds, I erupted into Sam's mouth and sighed so heavily that we were concerned that someone would hear us. The water in the shower was still running. Sam stood up and push his own cock into my face and said, "suck?"
I opened his mouth and Sam pushed in. I gagged.
"I don't think I can do this Sam," I stammered.
"You can do this," Sam replied, "Open your mouth."
Again I opened my mouth and Sam gently pushed in. I put his lips around it and moved down on his shaft. Sam pulled back and then pushed in again. After the third thrust, I had the technique down and was enjoying the encounter. Suddenly, Sam pulled out and pumped himself to ejaculate.
"Thanks," I said. "I don't think I am ready for a mouth load of cum yet."
"Not yet," said Sam. "But you will be, bye and bye."
Sam patted my shoulder and turned to gather his clothing so he could shower next.
After a hearty breakfast, we all made our way to the docks where we loaded our boats and started out for some favored fishing spots. Sam had four in his boat and Keith had the other four. Sam as the junior guide was supposedly stuck with the novices...but actually he preferred it that way. With the exception of Professor Hugh Bellmont, they were indeed novices. Hugh was the type of man that blended in well. He had fished with them before, but knowledge of the event was lost from summer to summer. Each year he had to relearn what he had learned from the previous summer. Although one of the older men in the group, he was by far one of the more pleasant and more social. Hugh had his camera in his fishing box and repeatedly took photos of the fish that were caught. After all a trophy was a trophy. Professor Biffle and his colleagues drifted farther away until they were nearly out of sight.
Biff caught a real nice small mouth bass and Hugh took his picture for a trophy photo. Shortly, he caught another. He released it.
"Sam," I asked? "Are there Salmon in Moose Head Lake?"
"Nope," he replied. "Salmon are found in the Moose River and at Indian Pond where the water moves. Moose head Lake is too still for them. Same with Trout. No trout in Moose head."
How quickly the morning disappeared. Sam had brought a large cooler of ice and he dressed the fish we caught very quickly and iced them down. He threw the remains over board.
"Why do you throw the guts and remains overboard after you dress out the fish? Doesn't that just junk up the lake water," I asked?
"No," said Sam. "The turtles eat the guts and remains and it sustains their existence. Up here, we fish for turtles too. Restaurants pay big bucks for turtle meat."
"Well, I'll be damned," I said before thinking.
The rest of us just laughed. We have all spoken out of turn on occasion. Sam seemed to be unflappable when I asked him questions. Let one of the others do the same thing and he spoke as if we should have known the answer before we asked it. With me, he seemed to have unparalleled patience.
In a second cooler, at 1:00 PM, Sam handed out sandwiches and soft drinks. He had chips and apples and some oatmeal raisin cookies that Keith had made this morning. Our lunch break was very nice. We had drifted to the shore of a small island and tied up to a large Sycamore tree at the water's edge. We ate slowly and enjoyed the nice breeze.
"The breeze is what is keeping the mosquitoes and gnats out of our faces," Sam told us. "You always want to watch for the weather signs. Cool and damp and no wind brings all kinds of bugs to make life miserable."
"How big is this island that we are tied to, Sam," Biff asked?
"About the size of two city blocks," he replied. "There are approximately 80 islands in Moose head lake. It has 400 miles of shore line."
I whistled a sign of amazement. Sam grinned back at me and nodded.
"You get lost here easily," he said to all of us...but he smiled when he looked at my face which was clearly amazed.
"Man, 400 miles of shore line. Have you toured it all," I asked.
"No...no time or inclination," Sam responded. "We stick to our area and tend our own business. Good swimming hole on other side of the island."
"Swimming," Biff said. "That would be great."
Hugh cleared his throat. "Aren't you suppose to wait an hour after eating to go for a swim?"
"Old wives tale," answered Sam. "That's a myth. Nothing to it."
"Really," responded Hugh. "Well, if you don't mind. While you guys go for a swim...I am going to treat myself to a nap. Food makes me sleepy."
"You can stay here and watch the boat, then. I will take the others to the swimming hole," Sam answered back.
With that, Biff and I followed Sam across the island to the other side.
When we reached the other side of the island...we had a sand beach and crystal clear water. We stepped out of our clothing and left our shoes on the sand. What a shock when we ran into the water. It was very cold. Sam laughed and dove in. Biff looking at me with a big smile, did the same thing. When he came back to the surface, he shook the water from his hair and let out a yelp.
"Damn, the water is sure cold," he said.
I waded out little bit by little bit. Had I dived in for one giant shock to start with, it would have been less discomforting. Once we got to moving around...we warmed up. The water was so clear that we could easily tell that we were all naked...but at that particular moment...we just didn't care.
There was a large rock that jutted out over part of the lagoon and Sam climbed on top and jumped off, into the water. As soon as he came to the surface, he repeated the act. We got caught up in the spirit of the adventure and were also climbing the large rock to jump into the deeper parts.
Our diving had worn down our energy. We three stretched out on the flat part of the big rock to lay in the warm sunlight. The reflection of the light against the sand color of the rock and it's natural warmth from having been in the sun for several hours dried our bodies readily.
"I could just sleep here the rest of the afternoon," Biff said as he stretched out on the flat rock on his stomach. He rested his head on his folded arms above his head and closed his eyes. Very soon we could hear him snoring lightly.
Sam and I were laying a few feet away. I was laying on my stomach as well. Sam got up on his hands and knees and crawled over to me and then re-positioned himself on top of me and gently let his weight down. Sam was warm as his body pressed against mine. He turned his head to the side and rested it against my face and pulled his arms tight about me. It felt good for both of us. I thought that I had never in my life experienced such an intimate closeness to another person. Even when I was a child, I could not remember my parents holding me close to them. Now Sam was awakening a new emotion with in me that I had never experienced before. I shivered. Sam felt the shiver and climbed off fearing that he might be hurting him. I rolled over on his back and smiled into Sam's face. On a sudden impulse, Sam leaned down and kissed me on the lips. I laid there a moment and leaned up to return the gesture.
Sam lay back down on his back and pulled me over top of him. He reached up to kiss me again and I kissed him back. As I looked into his dark eyes... he smiled and touched my face .
"You want to try something new that feels real good," he asked?
"Something new," I asked?
"Yes. Turn around and let you balls hang in my face."
I turned and felt his tongue tickle my balls just before he pulled me down where he could get my dick into his mouth. His up and down motion on it made it get very hard... and feel really good. I opened my mouth and went down on his cock. As he hardened, his foreskin pulled back and exposed the head of his penis. Having just come out of the water, he tasted very good. As my mouth went down on him, he sucked up on me.
"Have you ever been fucked," he whispered to me?
"No," I responded. "I didn't know that guys could do that sort of thing with another guy?
"Would you let me show you," Sam asked..?
"Will it hurt," I whispered back?
"Not if you take your time."
He told me to get up on my hands and knees. He got behind and rimmed me a couple of seconds and then spit in his hand and applied the spittle to his dick and pushed in. I did not know what to expect...but there was no pain. After a few deep penetrations and his cock massaging my prostate, I dropped my load on the rock beneath. A fantastic ejaculation without his ever touching my penis. In a flash...he was shooting his load deep inside me. It was over in a matter of a few minutes.
"Later we will work on extending the time and intensity," he told me...as he pulled out and lay on the rock close beside me.
We suddenly became aware that Biff was a wake and watching us.
"We were just ..." Sam stammered.
"I know what you were just doing," Biff responded, "Hey guys, I am cool with it. You need not say anything. You were just doing what the rest of us would have done if we had the chance."
"You mean you are not going to tell on us," I asked?
"Heck no, I like to suck and fuck the same as you do. I knew what you two were doing last night. It's OK. Just sometimes, you might ask me to join in," Biff admonished.
Sam looked at him and said, " I think we can oblige you there."
Sam climbed between Biff's legs and took his cock into his mouth.
I played with Biff's nipples and squeezed them hard. The two motions brought on a full scale orgasm and ejaculation. Biff was a prolific cummer and he shouted with emotion as he shot his load into Sam's mouth. Sam spit the load onto the rock where it gleamed with whiteness. We three went back into the water to wash the semen from our bodies and to renew some of the camaraderie that we had enjoyed before our rest.
When we dressed and then hiked back to the boat...we found Hugh asleep still and as contented as he could be. We all have our own ideas on how to pass time pleasantly. Hugh did it his way and we did it ours. We fished another hour or so before returning to Loon Lodge. We were first in. The fish that Sam had dressed, we washed in cold water and wrapped in waxed paper and placed in the refrigeration. We would have them for supper. Although the mantle clock above the fireplace said 4:00 PM...we knew the rest of our party would not return for a few hours. Biff stretched out on the sofa to read and was soon asleep. Sam and I went upstairs for a shower which we took together and then lay down on the bed... just the two of us, for a short nap. Sam lay with his back against the wall and his arm over my chest. Both of us had our heads on my pillow. Soon, we were both fast asleep.