As with previous installments of this series, this story involves descriptions of homosexual sex between consenting boys, with an outcome that probably wouldn't ever occur in real life. If that kind of thing bothers you, or you shouldn't be reading this, please go do something else. But if that's all right with you, keep reading.
This story is completely fictional, and, as with any such work of fiction, any resemblance to any place, event, or person (living or dead) is purely coincidental.
Comments can be sent to me at forcewielder2000@yahoo.com (flames will just be ignored!).
~Mark
When my brothers and I got home from school, we started getting ready for the pow-wow. Having just turned 14, I was the second oldest one still at home (I had two older brothers – Tom, age 20, who was off at college, and Alex, age 17), and since Alex had some other school function he had to be at on that particular day, I was the one responsible for making sure that my two younger brothers (Gage, age 12, and Caleb, age 8) got ready while our parents were still at work.
We were full-blooded Cherokee, and had been participating in pow-wows for years, so when getting ready us brothers would often take off our "regular" clothes and get dressed in our traditional Cherokee clothing in the same room at the same time. We didn't mind being naked around each other, since we'd been doing it for as long as we could remember (and since there were only 3 bedrooms in the house total, with our parents getting one of them, it meant that we had to divide up the remaining two bedrooms, and one main bathroom, between the 5 of us, so we were often naked in front of each other for other reasons, too; this led to us having been naked around each other so much that Alex once jokingly commented that we knew what each other looked like naked almost better than we knew what we looked like dressed).
As Gage, Caleb and I got dressed, I almost unconsciously smoothed each item down as I put it on. Normally, before the coming of European settlers Cherokee guys wore only a breechclout in warmer months, but in colder months or when hunting the wardrobe expanded to a sort of sleeveless shirt, leggings, and moccasins, and that was what I was wearing (Gage and Caleb both decided to stick to just breechclouts).
We finished getting dressed and pulled on sweat suits before we headed out into the family room to wait for our parents to get home. They soon arrived home, and we all headed to the pow-wow (our parents didn't change into their traditional clothing this time, since the pow-wow was being put on for the local schools; while a few adults would be in traditional clothing, those who'd be dressed up and handling most of the exhibits would be local Native American youth, since the school district thought it would be more interesting for the non-Native American kids to see other kids their own age actually involved in it.).
We arrived at the center where it was being held and hurried inside, since it was still cold out, and headed over to where our exhibit was, greeting the other two who were involved in that particular one (two sisters, 11-year-old Marie and 15 year old Claire) as we pulled off our sweat suits. The event proved to be well-attended, and I saw quite a few of the kids from school I knew. Many of the guys thought it was "cool" to see me in my Cherokee clothing, while several girls whistled at me. ("Now, Logan, why couldn't you be in just a loincloth like your brothers?" my friend Elaine asked me at one point, not even trying to hide the fact that she was checking me out, while Caroline, who was in a couple of my classes at school and who was Elaine's BFF, who was checking me out just as hard as Elaine was, said, "Yeah, I'd pay to see that!")
As the pow-wow rolled to an end, I ran into Paul, who was one of my best friends. We'd met in elementary school (when I was starting 3rd grade and he was starting 4th) at recess that first day, and had hit it off almost immediately, even though he was a year older than I was. It didn't hurt that his family had moved in just down the street just a few weeks before school started.
While I was 5'9" and a bit on the thin side, and my hair went down past my shoulders, Paul, a Caucasian, was already 6'1", and built like a football player. His brown shaggy hair went well with his equally brown eyes.
"Hey, Logan," he said as he looked me over. "Cool getup."
"Hey, Paul," I said. "That's right, you've never seen me like this before, have you?"
"Not up close," he said. "Only from a distance a couple of times when you guys would be rushing off to some event or another. You look really good in it."
From most other guys I might have been weirded out by Paul's last sentence, but not from Paul. Last year he'd told me that he was gay, and I told him that I thought he was really brave to tell me and that I was there to support him. A few months later I admitted to him that I was probably bisexual myself, and despite not intending to, we started growing a lot closer. We hadn't "officially" become a couple yet (since both our parents, interestingly enough, frowned on the idea of dating before age 16), but we both admitted that it was probably only a matter of time (we'd already started joking just a bit that I'd better keep my 16th birthday open for him).
"I haven't seen you at other pow-wows in the past," I said. "What brings you to this one?"
"Oh, school assignment," he said, holding up the notepad he had with him. "I've got to write a report on this for my social studies class."
We talked for a while, and I told him that if he had any other questions, that he could stop by my house any time. He thanked me before moving on to another exhibit.
The next day, a Saturday, Paul called up and asked if he could come over for a couple of other follow-up questions. Since I didn't have anything else to do, I told him sure.
He came over and we headed into the bedroom I shared with Caleb (who fortunately was off with friends right then). Paul sat down on my desk chair, and I plopped down onto my bed. He asked me several questions, some of which I thought were actually pretty good (such as, "What's the most annoying stereotype you tend to encounter?"). When he was finished, he put down his pencil and leaned back and stretched, and I'll admit I found my eyes running over his body.
"I'll admit," he said, "I'm surprised you wore the kind of clothing at the pow-wow that you did. It does show off a lot, especially when you're in just a loincloth like your brothers were."
"I'm just glad that the Cherokee had clothing," I replied. "Did you know that some Native Americans lived in places where it was warm enough that the guys actually went naked practically all year long? Now that would have been a bit awkward to go as for the pow-wow."
"Whoa," he said, his eyes darting over my body. I did give a small smile, knowing that the thought of me being in one of those Native American tribes and going around naked was making him a bit horny (heck, the thought of me being in one of those tribes and being around other naked guys was making me a bit horny).
When we made eye contact, though, something...happened. I don't know what, but we kept staring at each other for the longest time. I hesitantly got up, moved over to him, and then leaned down and planted a kiss right on his lips. He stiffened, but didn't try to pull away.
When we finally broke off the kiss, I gave a short, nervous laugh. Paul's eyes were wide, but he then put his hands on the back of my head and pulled me down for another kiss. We started snogging hard, and I felt my dick start to get hard.
We soon started pulling our clothes off, and within moments we were standing there in just our briefs, and I saw that the front of his briefs were bulging out, just like mine. We started kissing again for a few moments. I then knelt down in front of him, and pulled his briefs down to the floor, freeing his erection. I then leaned forward and took his dick into my mouth and starter sucking on it. Paul gasped out and put his hands on the back of my head as he started humping my face. We went at it like that for a couple of minutes before I had him stop. I pulled up and dropped my briefs.
"I want you in me," I said, and he nodded.
We went over to the bed and I laid down. Paul got on me, somehow maneuvered into position, and started pushing his dick into my butthole. When he was all the way inside me, his pubic hairs pressed up against my butt, he started thrusting. I wrapped my arms and legs around him, holding him close while he pumped energetically, his balls flopping against my butt. My hard dick was pressed into our stomachs, and I moaned as his dick continued to slide in and out of my butthole.
On and on we continued to screw, the sounds of our lovemaking filling the room. I wanted Paul so badly I was amazed it had taken this long for us to have sex. Paul thrust faster and faster, and he was soon slamming his dick into me, the bed rocking from his efforts. Paul soon arched his back and cried out, and I actually felt him come into me.
As he slowly got off of me, his softening dick sliding out of my butthole, he got down between my legs and stared at my dick and balls for several moments before leaning down and taking my dick into his mouth. My eyes rolled up in my head from the pleasure, and I put my hands on the back of his head and pushed down, begging for more. I then started humping his face, making "Oh! Oh! Oh!" sounds, with each "Oh!" accompanying an upward thrust of my hips. Soon his tongue started running up and down my dick, and moments later I arched up off the bed, pushing his head down hard as I came and came. When my ejaculation ended, I flopped limply onto the bed.
Paul moved up until he was laying next to me. "Logan," he soon gasped out, "I'll never be able to be just friends with you again. I think...I love you."
"Paul...I love you, too," I gasped out.
He wrapped his arms around me and kissed me. Resting his forehead on mine afterwards, we gazed into each other's eyes for the longest time, occasionally kissing.
"So what are we going to tell our parents?" he finally asked after a while.
"Who says we have to tell them? They don't need to know."
"True," he replied. "But still..."
"Look, it's not like we can't keep having sex," I pointed out. "As long as we don't get caught, no one will ever know."
"Well, I guess so..." he said hesitantly, but then I noticed that his dick was slowly getting hard again.
I rolled him onto his back and threw a leg over him, getting onto my shins and slowly sitting down until I felt his dick penetrate me again. I slid all the way down until my butt was resting on his hairy crotch. I then started hopping up and down, riding him. My dick smacked down onto Paul every time I went down. We pressed the palms of our hands together, intertwining our fingers together.
"Oh, Logan, ride me hard!" Paul moaned out at one point.
I was more than happy to oblige, and continued to vigorously slide up and down the organic pole I'd so willingly impaled myself on. I must have ridden Paul for close to 15 minutes before I felt a familiar tingling in my groin. I try to hold back, but am only able to do so for a few moments before I start spraying my semen all over Paul's abdomen and chest. I paused for a few moments to catch my breath, and then I start riding Paul again. I kept going until he arched up off the bed and cried out, and I felt his semen blast into me.
"Oh, yeah," I said, grinning at him. He grinned back. I got off of him, and we jumping into the shower together.
A few weeks went by. No more sex occurred, though we did sneak in an occasional kiss, mostly at school.
Then I started feeling a bit nauseated at times, and started vomiting. My mom couldn't find a temperature, and we couldn't figure out anything that I might have been eating that could have caused it for that long. Eventually my mom made an appointment with a doctor, who checked me out pretty thoroughly.
Finally, he said there was one more thing he could check. He had me pee in a cup, and upon taking the sample from he, he said he'd be right back. After a few minutes he came back into the examination room.
"All right," he said to me and my mom, "the test came back, and, well, Logan is pregnant."
"What?!" I exclaimed, as my mom gasped.
"You're pregnant," the doctor told me.
I was in shock. Sure, I knew that some guys could get pregnant, though I never thought I could be one of them. There had certainly never been a pregnant male on either side of the family before (but then, to the best of my knowledge there'd never been a gay or bi male in the family before, so that could explain why there'd never been a pregnant male in the family).
Heading home after further instructions were given by the doctor and future appointments set up, my mom told me we'd have to tell my dad and brothers, and of course, the baby's father (while she didn't mention Paul by name, I could tell she suspected he was the baby's father), and I looked forward to that with dread. I knew my parents would still love me, but I also knew that they'd be disappointed in me.
That evening, we gathered together, and my mom told everyone that we had an announcement. Then she moved out of the way and looked at me. I slowly got up, and hesitantly told everyone that I was pregnant. There were gasps all around.
After a few moments, my dad said, "Logan, who's the father? Is it Paul?"
I nodded, and soon Paul and his parents were over at our house, and I shared the news with them. Paul just sat there with a stunned look on his face. His parents said they still loved both of us, but of course were disappointed that we didn't wait longer to have sex. We discussed what would happen. Paul and I agreed to keep the baby, and we thought we might get married at some point in the future.
During the next few weeks, I got regular checkups, and since things seemed to be progressing well (meaning there were no complications and doctors felt it was safe for me to give birth naturally), my parents suggested that we head back to the Cherokee reservation in northeastern Oklahoma for the birth, since the due date was in August when school was out and there was something of a "traditional" birth that had evolved in the past few decades in the Cherokee Nation, after male pregnancies started occurring, for situations where the pregnant person was a guy.
I wasn't looking forward to having to give birth, but then, if I hadn't had sex with Paul, I wouldn't be in this predicament in the first place. So I agreed with it. The "traditional birth" was that the birth should be as natural as possible, with as few technological or otherwise artificial assistance as possible, and would occur in a long hut specifically built for pregnant males to give birth. (There was modern day medical equipment there, but it was only to be used in case of emergency, and it was located next to a regular modern-day hospital.) The pregnant guy would be completely naked while giving birth, and he would lay against another guy (usually a family member or close friend) who would serve as a sort of coach during the birth. This other guy, and all other guys in there (with the exception of the medicine man, who'd also be a fully trained doctor by the current standards of the world, and the two or three others who'd be assisting him) would also be naked.
I talked with Paul about it, and he wanted to be there for the birth of his kid, and so I invited him along. I told him that the "being naked" thing really only applied to those who were Cherokee, and that he didn't have to be naked if he didn't want to be, but he said that he would be, to support me. His two younger brothers (Sam, age 12, and Ryan, age 10) were also invited to be there when I gave birth, and they were excited to be invited. I also invited my brothers to be there as well, and they all agreed to be there to support me. I asked Alex to be the one to be who would be my coach, and he agreed.
At the end of July, we headed off to the reservation. Tom drove us down, since he was on summer break for another month and both our parents and Paul's really felt they should stay home to handle their own work and other obligations (since they hadn't been invited in to watch me give birth).
We got to spend some time doing things that we normally didn't get to do off the reservation. For some weird reason, Gage and Caleb particularly enjoyed running around in just breechclouts; while Tom and Alex also went around in just breechclouts, they didn't act all goofy about it. I had a breechclout on, too, but also wore a Cherokee shirt because I felt a bit uncomfortable showing the slight but noticeable bulge in my abdomen. (Paul, Sam, and Ryan went around in their regular clothing.)
Eventually, early one morning I was woken by cramping in my abdomen. I rubbed it for a while, but it kept on happening. Then my eyes widened as I realized I'd gone into labor. I managed to wake up Paul, who was sleeping next to me.
"It's time!" I gasped out.
He quickly got up and went over to where Sam and Ryan were sleeping on the other side of the room. He'd gone to bed wearing only his briefs, and I wish I could have checked him out better, but the cramping made it hard to do that. Paul woke his brothers up and they quickly got dressed. Ryan was then sent to wake up my brothers, who were all sleeping in another room.
I pulled my shirt on (I'd worn only my breechclout to bed), and soon Alex came in, and he and Paul helped me out to the SUV for the short drive to the hospital. After our initial check-in, we were soon ushered into the longhouse, where we found the doctor/medicine man and two assistants setting things up.
"I'm Dr. Deerfield, but you may call me Flying Eagle," the doctor/medicine man said. "Those who are Cherokee, strip. Those who aren't Cherokee do not have to, but may if they wish."
My brothers all dropped their breechclouts, and Alex started helping me out of my clothes. I watched Paul strip, and was a bit surprised to see his brothers stripping, too. Soon we were all naked, and I was amazed to see that Sam and Ryan didn't seem to mind in the slightest.
"All right," Flying Eagle said, "will the coach and expectant mother get into position, please?"
Alex laid down on the delivery table, a sort of bed that was inclined at a noticeable angle. He spread his legs apart and put the soles of his feet on the bed, pointing his knees up at the ceiling. I sat down right in front of him, in between his legs, and put my legs in the same position he had, before leaning back onto him.
I moaned out as another contraction hit, and Alex put his arms around me and gave me a quick hug. "It'll be all right, lil' bro," he whispered to me. "It'll be over soon."
As I nestled back against Alex's muscular chest, Paul took my hand in his, and our brothers gathered around and turned their attention to my dick. Gage and Sam stood next to each other, and for some reason I couldn't help but glance down at their crotches and notice the few pubic hairs each boy had. (Tom and Alex each had nice bushes, and while both Ryan and Caleb had hairless crotches, Ryan was the slightly more well-endowed of the two).
One of Flying Eagle's assistants gave me a herbal concoction to help with the pain, and a few minutes later, Flying Eagle got down next to my crotch. "All right, Logan, I want you to start pushing."
I pushed and relaxed as he directed. Alex held me and whispered encouragements to me as I worked to give birth. I soon felt the baby moving, and after a few moments I yelped out as I felt the base of my dick start to expand. I clutched Paul's hand and continued to cry out as the baby moved through my dick. It hurt so much! I kept pushing, and I vaguely remember Alex continuing to encourage me. Finally the pressure in my dick went down, and a few moments later I heard crying. I looked down to see Flying Eagle holding a baby.
"It's a boy," he said as he cut the umbilical chord.
Everyone cheered, and Alex told me, "You did good."
The baby was taken to be cleaned up, and Alex got out from under me, gently getting me settled on the bed. A few minutes later the placenta was pulled from me. Then I was handed the baby, and we cooed over him.
"So, Logan, what's his name?" Tom asked.
I glanced at Paul, who nodded. I said, "His name is Denali."
After a while, Denali was taken away to the nursery at the hospital, and Alex and Paul pitched in to get me cleaned up in a shower in the back of the long house (since I still felt weak, Alex held me up while Paul washed and dried me off).
After we were through, Flying Eagle gathered us all together and told us as everyone else got dressed that sucking my dick would help it to recover sooner. He told us what to do, and for how long. We all nodded and thanked him. Heading back to where we were staying, I was put to bed, and quickly fell asleep.
When I woke up several hours later, I was surprised that not only was Paul going to suck my dick, but that our brothers were, too. They would be going in order of age, so that evening Tom came in. I stripped and sat down on a stool, spreading my legs apart. Tom got down between my legs, took my dick into his mouth, and started sucking, his nose in my pubic hairs and his chin pressed up against my balls. He sucked for the allotted time before pulling up.
The next morning, it was Alex's turn, and it wasn't too different from when Tom sucked my dick. Then that evening it was Paul's turn. The next morning, it was Gage, followed that evening by Sam (who was a few days younger than Gage), then Ryan and finally Caleb before Tom started the cycle all over again. Every one of them had his nose in my pubic hairs and his chin pressed up against my balls. Ryan and Caleb had a little harder time of it than the others did, being smaller, since my dick was just big enough that it filled up their mouths.
For some reason, Gage and Sam seemed to enjoy it a little more than I thought they ought to, and a few days later I fond out why. I was taking a short walk, and came across Gage and Sam having sex in a secluded spot down by a local creek. They didn't see me, and I admittedly watched for a couple of minutes. Gage was on top, plowing Sam's butt. Sam had his arms and legs wrapped around Gage and was obviously enjoying the whole thing. I then turned around and quietly left, leaving the two horny boys to finish their coupling in private.
We headed home after a couple of weeks. It took about a month and a half of sucking before I got an erection, while Ryan was sucking. I was a bit embarrassed by it, but he didn't seem to mind.
Paul and I decided to get married when I turned 16, and our parents agreed to sign the necessary papers. It would be a while off, still, but I didn't mind waiting. Sam and Gage continued to have sex with each other. When they admitted to Paul and me what they were doing, we congratulated them, and I told Gage he had a good taste in guys. He grinned somewhat shyly.