Warning... this story contains depictions of gay sex and could be offensive to some, if this subject offends you, stop reading now. If you are not supposed to read this, don't. Either way, be responsible. Thanks, Marcus
Windfort Resort Chapter 6 Being a Kid Again
I woke early that morning, the open sky above me. Still the hint of the night's stars fading out in the sky. Brad was spooned in beside me, his warm flesh pressing against mine as the cool morning dew drifted over my face. I always felt most at home sleeping under the stars. Nature always brought comfort to me throughout my whole life.
Laying here I remember Paul and Scott, friends from back when I was a kid. I grew up on the edge of a forest, so all my friends families were either loggers or forest workers of some sort. We all had that link to the trees and all somehow had a love are respect for the nature around us.
Paul was my best friend back then. His mother would tutor me after school three days a week, when the lessons were over we would be set free to play until dinner. We were always the most diligent students, just waiting until she said we were done. His house was on a small farm. Once set free we would run out the back door and through the gate into the first pasture. It was always a race to see who could make it across to the second gate first. Paul usually won, probably because of his long legs, but not because I wasn't trying.
Through the second gate we would usually walk, panting, until we got to the hedgerow that ran down the center of the pasture. Crossing through we were at the freedom point. Paul had done a great deal of research and found that from all windows in the house and barn, this was the furthest point anyone could see. It was also the point where we would strip, folding our clothes and placing them on a platform we had built in a small oat tree in the hedgerow. Unencumbered by our shells, usually only wearing our shoes, we took off running again through the second pasture and into the woods beyond.
I always loved that run the most. The feeling of the wind across my body, the feeling of exposure to the world, that is where I truly was free, myself and free.
About fifty feet into the woods ran a stream that was usually our play zone.
On hot summer days we would spend time at a natural swimming hole about a mile up the hill. At other times we would act out all kinds of games, from gold miners, to explorers, to the traditional cowboys and indians. You know, neither of us ever wanted to be cowboys though, I guess they wore too many clothes. Sometimes we would just lie in the sun at the edge of the forest and watch the clouds go by. It was quite a childhood.
The best time ever though, was when my parents had to go to California to visit an Aunt who was very ill. It was summer and I got to stay at Paul's house for those two weeks. I was only two months from turning fourteen that summer. Paul, who had lost a year of school because his family had moved around so much when he was younger and had just turned fifteen. We were both at that awkward age in our life where nothing really made sense, but we knew our parents were the most confusing of them all.
My parents dropped me off on their way to the airport. There were the usual instructions and orders to be good, goodbyes, and motherly tears, but finally they were off. I had stayed over a Paul's house before, but only overnighters where we usually slept in a tent in the yard. This time there was a cot set up for me in Paul's room and room for my stuff made in one of his dresser drawers. That day we stayed around the house and helped his mom out with some chores, had dinner, then played a game of monopoly. After my winning the entire board we turned in for the night. Paul's parents required that we keep the bedroom door open, Paul explained it had to do with an older brother who had died in his sleep. They felt they could have heard that there were problems if they had left the door open. I was creeped out at that point, and tried to get used to the light funneling in from the hall. As we lay there we started talking about what we were going to do over the next two weeks. We plotted that if I helped with Paul's morning chores we could get his mom to pack us a lunch and then take off for the woods until suppertime and evening chores.
The next morning we bridged that idea with his parents, who agreed and was happy I was helping Paul out with chores, but that I didn't have to. Paul then ask his father if we could build a fort along the creek. The rules were laid out as to what trees we could cut down and what we could and could not do. With all said, we took off and hurried through the chores. Dividing them up we were done in a half-hour then back in the house to gather our stuff and then off we went. Loaded down with supplies we didn't run that morning. We brought a shovel, Paul's new ax he had gotten for his birthday, our BB guns (in the event of cowboy attack), tarps, ropes, twine, first aide kit (his mother insisted), and a pack with water and lunches. At the hedgerow we followed the routine and stripped, laying our clothes on the platform and headed off into the woods.
Paul led us to where he thought the fort should be. After putting down our supplies we walked through his idea. The area was a flat space, elevated from the stream about four feet with a great view up and down the stream, in the event of attack that is. We were hunched down drawing the specifics of the construction on the forest floor when I noticed that there were hairs growing at the base of his penis. I also notice some under his arm as he drew his idea for the entrance. I was totally fascinated as I felt a twinge run through my stomach. I made some suggestions about the roof construction that I had read in a western book, and then we started out to gather the logs.
Following his father's instructions we would fall small trees, limb them, and drag the logs back to the site. Basically Paul's father was using us to thin the weaker trees along the stream, allowing the stronger trees to grow faster. We cut down at least 40 trees that day, building a pile of four to six inch logs for the fort. By mid-afternoon we were filthy and hot so we headed up toward the swimming hole. Splashing and horsing around felt good after all the labor we had done. Once refreshed we lay out in the sun of the pasture to dry off and rest before heading back. As we lay there Paul had his hands behind his head as he rested with his eyes closed. Taking the opportunity I turned over onto my stomach and really studied his new hair. The tuft under his arm looked so soft and warm. As I stared at the patch above his cock I watched as his penis moved in the sun, growing bigger, then shrinking a bit. We lay there quite a while that day, with me spending every moment studying his changing body. I acted like I was asleep when Paul rolled over and ask if I was ready to go back. We agreed, stashed our supplies, and headed back to the hedgerow. That evening we were both tired and went to bed early after watching some television.
The next day started much the same. When we go to the fort we began construction. Paul's father loaned us a hatchet for me to use as well, making our task go much faster. With the walls up I began mudding the cracks from the inside. I mixed mud from the stream with moss we had gathered to shove in all the cracks between the logs. While I did that Paul worked on the roof structure. The entrance to the fort was going to be from the roof, so we had to make sure it could support our weight. As I sat cross-legged, mud dripping over my legs and cock, I continued filling between the logs. Many trips were made back down to the stream for more mud as I climbed up and down a ladder we had made. I was almost finished when Paul ask me for some help lashing down one of the roof logs. As I got up and turned to help I found Paul above me, his knees spread apart resting on roof supports, his cock was larger than normal and dangled down toward me. I couldn't help it, staring was all I could do.
"Is the view any good from down there?" he cracked, breaking my trance.
I quickly started helping him lash down the log, embarrassed that I was caught and pissed that I had to stop staring. When we were done we decided to call it a day and go clean up. Covered in mud I decided that was probably a good idea. After climbing out of the fort, we ran toward the swimming hole and both jumped in creating quite the splash. We had only just started cleaning up when we heard the bell from the house. That was Paul's mom's way of calling us if we were suppose to come back. I quickly rinsed the rest of the mud off and we ran toward the hedgerow, then back to the house.
As we came up to the house we saw Paul's mom sitting on the back porch waiting for us, it looked like she had been crying. After asking us to sit down she told me that my parents had called and my aunt had died. She said they would be calling me in a few hours. I had not known my aunt very well, so did not know what to do or say. After my parents called, and we cried a bit, it was decided I would just stay here for an extra week while my folks arranged the funeral and then tied up the loose ends there.
Not really feeling well, I went up to bed early that night and drifted off to sleep thinking about how final death was and how I never would get to know my aunt. It was dark when Paul woke me up.
"Brian, are you ok", there was a real concern in his voice as he placed his had on my shoulder.
"Ya" I said, dozily coming out of sleep.
"I am just worried about you. You don't seem to be upset or anything." Paul said with a genuine concern in his voice.
"I'm ok. I'm glad I don't have to fly down there and sit around being sad all week." I turned to look at Paul. As I looked into his eyes I could see him get uncomfortable.
He tussled my hair. "Ok, just worried about ya" he said before turning and crawling into his bed.
I just lay there watching as he snuggled into bed.
I had been asleep for quite some time again, lying on my side facing the wall, when I felt my blanket rustling behind me and Paul crawling in next to me. He put his arm around me and hugged me tight. I think he is more concerned about my aunt's death than I was. My thoughts were on his penis that had to be pressing on my ass through our multiple layers of pajamas and underwear. We said nothing, just lie there and fell asleep again.
When I woke the next morning Paul was gone. The alarm did not go off and I could tell it was late in the morning. I got up, dressed, and headed down to the kitchen where I found Paul and his mom sitting at the table.
"You didn't wake me," I told Paul.
I just let you sleep. "I missed doing my chores alone" he teased.
After breakfast we headed off to start working on our fort. We walked out to the hedgerow without saying anything. After tucking our clothes onto the platform we continued on. I noticed that Paul's penis was larger this morning though. Something I could not help but continue to stare at.
At the fort we set right to work. Paul began building a platform on the roof... the lookout we called it, while I went down to the stream and gathered more mud to finish stuffing the cracks.
By lunch the walls were done, inside and out. Paul had just finished the railing on the lookout so we were almost there. After eating we lashed a small tarp to the roof and began hauling limbs to cover it with. Finally we began gathering moss to build beds inside the fort. When we left that afternoon we were really excited about the fort and the job we had done building it.
It was almost midnight when Paul crawled in behind me again, snuggling behind me as his arm pulled me closer. It felt so nice to have him lying beside me that I drifted back to sleep. Just before the alarm went off Paul eased out of bed and pulled on his clothes. Minutes later I heard his mom poke her head in to tell us it's time to get up. As I got out of bed Paul left the room, heading out to get started. I joined him and we rushed through chores. After breakfast Paul gathered some things he wanted to take to the fort; an old table, some candles, an old trunk from the barn, and an old bucket. We loaded this all on an old wagon and headed off to the fort.
We got all the stuff put away and cleaned up around the fort most of the day. I was inside the fort setting up a shelf with our ammunition (bb's and large pine cone grenades) and candle supplies when Paul cried out.
"Man the fort, we're under attack." I heard a thud as he pulled up the outer ladder and stuck his head down the porthole. "Toss me my gun. There is a regiment of Union Calvary headed this way." I did as he ordered and grabbed my gun as well. I stood on the ladder while Paul and I mowed down the attacking Calvary. But just as the last solider retreated Paul was shot in the shoulder. Collapsing on the lookout platform he wreathed around in pain. I quickly started administering first aid, when more shots rang out.
Using my leverage on the ladder, I quickly pulled him to safety before pulling out my gun and plugging off a few more shots as the last of the Calvary retreated again. I lit a candle and looked at Paul's wound. I had to get the bullet out. After splashing some water on his arm, I made an incision with a stick, pulling out the bullet with my fingers and tossing it away with great drama.
"Whiskey" Paul whispered. I handed him the bottle and told him to drink up.
"Will I survive Doc?" he said, water dripping down the side of his mouth and onto his chest. "It is feeling colder," he said, his drama getting very real.
"You can't die on me, it would take me days to dig the hole out here." I said and we both cracked up laughing.
"Then let's go swimming" he said, jumping up and climbing up the ladder onto the roof. After blowing out the candle I followed him up and we headed up stream to the swimming hole.
Climbing around the woods that summer unencumbered by clothes was the most energizing time of my life. The feeling of the ferns brushing against my thigh or the sun tanning my naked skin began shaping who I am today. These feelings helped me realize that I am part of the whole earth and that clothes were a way of shielding ourselves from that world around us, and even ourselves. Paul taught me those things that summer, but more than that though, he taught me to love myself and how to love others.
The few days flew by. There were battles that we won, forest that had to be explored and conquered. One afternoon we made it all the way up to the top of Rantiff Hill, hiding from enemy scouting parties in high fern thickets, or pillaging mining camps that had long been abandoned. Each night Paul would wait until his folks were asleep and crawl in bed behind me as I slept. We never discussed this activity during the day, but both enjoyed the closeness at night.
One morning Paul ask his parents if we could sleep out in the fort that night. Paul's father was fine with it, but wanted to come see what we had done first to make sure we would be safe. So his mom packed us food. We grabbed sleeping bags and a few more supplies, loaded it in the old wagon then all four of us headed out to the fort. Paul and I glanced at each other as we passed through the hedgerow and trudged our way through to the stream. We were so proud when Paul's father praised us for the wonderful craftsmanship. They both even climbed up and squeezed into the porthole to get an glimpse of the interior.
We were both glowing with excitement as they walked around seeing all we had done. Then Paul's father ask us how trustworthy we thought we were. Agreeing that we could be trusted he helped us build a fire ring and told us we could have a campfire tonight if we promised to keep the fire within the parameters of the ring. Handing each of us a box of matches he tussled Paul's hair and they both set off back to the house.
Excited about our new freedom we both began unpacking the wagon and setting up camp. It wasn't long though before Paul popped up out of the fort minus his clothes and began finishing the chores. I followed suit stripping and placing my clothes inside the fort as well. We used the wagon to help gather dried wood from the forest floor for our fire tonight. We built a kind of backrest near the fire where we could relax and enjoy our fire. After we had a supply of wood large enough for a weeks worth of fires, we headed off to the swimming hole. The afternoon was spent horsing around in the water and laying in the sun.
It was getting toward dinner when we headed back toward the fort. I lit the fire and Paul set out to make hot water in a kettle we had packed. Settling back we ate dinner and watched the flames. We made tea with the water, but decided we didn't really like tea. It was more just begin able to cook something over the fire.
As it got darker we decided we should attack something tomorrow, thus we would need to do a war dance tonight in preparation. Building up the fire we gathered some mud from the stream and painted our faces and chest with streaks of mud. Paul began dancing and whooping around the fire while I beat out a war dance on the bottom of the kettle. Periodically he would shove a stick into the fire sending up a circle of sparks around him. When he got tired I would take over and the whooping would continue. After several hours we were both exhausted. Sweat was running down our bodies as the mud marks streaked down our chests. We sat watching the fire die down before agreeing to turn in. Inside the fort was pitch dark. I had done a really good job sealing the cracks. I lit a candle and we unrolled our sleeping bags on the moss-covered section of the floor. It was quite comfortable with the soft springy pad beneath us.
Paul blew out the candle and we lay back staring at the ceiling. The tarp let through streaks of light from the dying fire that danced through the branches on top of it. Soon our eyes had adjusted to the darkness and I began drifting off to sleep. Just as I was about asleep I felt the familiar nudge of Paul as he unzipped my bag and slipped in behind me.
I was electrified by the feeling of his skin on mine. The feeling of the warm flesh pressing against mine, the grittiness of the dried mud on his chest on my back, the comfortable warmth of his penis as it pressed into the crack of my ass, then the embrace as he put his arm around me, pulling me tight to him. It was a feeling I would never again feel, a blissful inclusion of such power. I could feel his chest as it rose and fell behind me. His fingers as they softly caressed my chest and the warm feeling of his breathe on the back of my neck.
We lay there for quite some time, not moving, not even saying a word, just enjoying the closeness of each other. Then Paul found one of my nipples and began swirling his finger around it, ever so softly. Just then I could feel his hips begin moving, his groin pressing against my butt. It was a slow rhythm as I felt his penis hard against my skin. Slowly his hand made it's way down my chest to my stomach, slowly making swirls across my skin. Then in a leap of energy he found it. My penis, so rock hard as it had never been. His fingers slid up its length, then he grasp it, encircling the whole thing with his fingers. Just then he gave out a groan and I felt his penis jerk then a warm wetness filled my ass crack. Paul just lay there, panting into my ear as his penis continued to spasm in my crack.
Slowly he began to move again. His penis mingling with the wetness provided the most exciting feeling. As he continued to work my crack his hand was sliding up and down my penis, faster and then faster. The feeling was too intense. Then my penis began to spasm, I felt wetness fill his hand that he then rubbed into my penis. I moaned, perhaps scream is a better term, either way I released such an expression of joy that Paul began to giggle behind me. Then he began to moan as his penis massaged my butt crack faster.
Paul finally let go of my penis and gently pushed me over onto my stomach as he lay on top of me, his penis still pressing firmly against my butt. He continued the movement more wildly as his cock slipped up and down my crack.
I could feel has his head brushed over my ass hole. The feeling when it came in contact was again electrifying. Then, without any intention to do so, Paul's slender penis broke through my ass hole and entered me for just a second. I screamed, then moaned, causing Paul to stop. It hurt, but felt so good.
"What's wrong" Paul ask. "Did I hurt you?" We were so innocent.
"No do that again," I said.
Slowly Paul started back again, sliding his penis up and down my crack until it came in contact with my hole again. His head darted in then back out, then up and down my crack a few more times before in and out again. I was on the edge of feeling so much power, I thought I would blow up right then. Just then Paul slid in a little further, then back out again. Then again, back in.
"HOLD IT" I hollered and he stopped, his penis still just inside me. "Oh, yah, that feels good."
"Oh ya" he said, slowly pushing a little further before slowly pulling almost out then pushing back in. We both started moaning as he began moving faster. It wasn't long before we both came again, almost in unison. Sweat lubricated our bodies as Paul lay on top of me and we both drifted off to sleep, his penis still buried in my cherry ass.
I woke just as Brad plowed his load of cum into my ass, our bodies exposed to the morning air and the feeling of at least one load of cum between me and my sleeping bag.
"God that was awesome" Brad said as he collapsed beside me, his cum covered cock pointing straight up toward the umbrella of hemlocks and pines that moved in the breeze above us.
As we lay there exposed to this beautiful morning I thought of Paul again. The rest of that summer we conquered the forest several times over. We never had sex during the day, but at night we would do as much as we could get away with. It was the cover of darkness that was for sex back then. The day was just for being natural.
Soon after my folks came home we moved down to California to run the family hotel that my aunt had been running all this time. Paul and I wrote back and forth for a while, but eventually lost touch. In one of his last letters he said he and Scott had been manning the fort. I wonder how much manhandling they were doing.
Isn't childhood great... the innocence... the freedom. Thanks for reading, if you have comments, please feel free to send me a note. More adventures will follow... pnwhikerguy@hotmail.com