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Posts posted by BWCTwriter

  1. When Fenton, a scrawny fifteen year old who had been bullied for the past two years of grade school, is at the end of his rope, he makes a wish to have a chance to be the one with the upper hand for once. He didn't understand the power of his wish, nor the danger that could come of it.

    When he gets his chance at being the Alpha Male, he finds himself falling prey to the same temptations as his abusers, taking things to a level even he thought he'd never reach. Though his intentions were not evil in nature, he wasn't sure just how far he'd let things go The Day the Tables Turned.

    Story Coming Soon!

  2. A difficult path lies ahead for two young boys, who awake to find themselves in a strange place, with no memory of who they are, and how they got there. Their only choice is to stick together, look for shelter, and try and discover the past which has conspicuously disappeared from their minds.

    Soon, their very eventful past comes to light, and they must make a choice: Deny or embrace. Each option has its own benefits, and its own downside as well, but it is a choice they must make regardless. Will they deny their hearts' desire and move on alone, or will they embrace the opportunity they've been given and forge a new future together?

    Check out the story Here!

  3. I've started a new site that I hope will turn out to be a collaborative site for gay authors of all ages and abilities to find a more permanent home for their story and their following.

    You can visit the site here: Authorskeep

    I wont encourage you to just completely ditch this site, because, well, I owe Talonrider for his kindness. I will, however, ask that you give it a look, and consider promoting your story there (non-exclusively).... I can also give anyone their own subdomain where they can build a full-featured site. I have pretty relaxed limits on bandwidth and disk space, so i wont be running out any time soon.

    If you're interested in opening your story up to new places and new opportunities, give me a buzz at admin@authorskeep.com

    Thanks for being a fan!


  4. I've been stewing over this storyline idea for some time now, completely unrelated to LT, and well, i thought it was going to be a lot harder to write than it was. Anyway, i really got into it, and until i have the work polished and posted, I'll be concentrating on it and not LT. Dont worry, you'll be able to see that and comment on it as well, but only when its ready. So, hope u enjoy whats posted so far and look forward to more!

  5. Love Transcending, Chapter 8

    My mother shook herself out of her trance and turned back toward the door. “I’m sorry I barged in on you boys,” she apologized as she left the room. “Breakfast will be ready in twenty minutes.” With that, she left the room, closing the door behind her.

    Chris and I were speechless. The fear began to set in as we slowly dressed to go upstairs for breakfast. This was a lot sooner than I had planned to have to deal with coming out to my parents. I wasn’t sure what my mother would think of us now, whether she’d be upset, and worst of all, whether she planned on telling my father what was going on, which I feared would not go well, especially since we’d been having sex in his house without his knowledge. Things were escalating faster than I had anticipated.

    Reluctantly, Chris and I climbed the stairs to the kitchen, grasping each other’s hand for support, and went in to face my mother, who was standing at the counter preparing two plates of breakfast: pancakes, sausage, and orange juice. We kept our heads down, afraid to look at my mother in the face.

    “So boys,” she started, “how long have you been together?”

    ‘Ok,’ I thought, ‘we’re still here so she is probably not gonna kick us out. I guess she does know, so we might as well be honest.’

    I looked over at Chris to make sure he was ok with me answering truthfully. He nodded, and I answered my mother. “Since the trip.”

    “But we knew,” Chris added, “since right before I left for Arkansas.” He paused to choose his next words, then continued. “How did you know?”

    “You mean besides catching you….in bed this morning?” she joked. “Well, Matt may think he’s covered his tracks on the computer, but he must have forgotten a couple times. It’s alright, Matt, Chris. I’m glad my son has found someone as sweet and caring as you, Chris. He doesn’t even talk to me about his life anymore. We used to be able to talk about anything until a couple years ago.”

    I felt guilty that I was too afraid to be honest with my mother. “I’m sorry mom; I don't even like myself for who I am. How can I expect anyone else to?"

    "You can expect me to," she retorted, "because I'm you're mother." She paused a moment, then asked, "Do you love each other?"

    I held up our clasped hands, smiling over at my love for a second, then turning pack to my mother and replied with confidence, "He's my soul mate."

    Chris held me close and kissed my neck tenderly. "And he is mine."

    I shrugged him away, nodding over towards my mother. "I'm sorry mom, we promise not to kiss in front of you." My low self-esteem was kicking into overdrive at that moment, but my mother was quick to dismiss my inhibitions.

    "It's alright honey," she said, "just keep the R-rated stuff in the bedroom."

    I blushed a deep shade of red and whined, "MOOOOooom, you're embarrassing me."

    Chris just stood back and laughed. My mother, Chris, and I sat down to breakfast, and we had a pleasant meal. Mom would smile occasionally as she saw the looks Chris and I gave to each other, the smiles, how our bodies remained in partial contact during the entire meal. I couldn't help it; even an inch of space was further a distance than I ever wanted to be from my love.

    My mother smiled at our playful antics, perhaps recalling her own memories of first love. I was so relieved that I had one more ally in this war. I hoped she’d be able to help me keep my dad from finding out, or if we were discovered, that she could keep him from killing me. I was sure he’d try and convince me that I was straight, as if no son of his was allowed to be different, a sissy, a fag.

    After breakfast, my mother left for church, alone as always, leaving us boys to tend to the house. Now, even though she left us, knowing that we were sexually involved, and seemingly approved of our relationship, I wasn't ready to romp with my lover every chance I got. Chris was pulling me towards my bedroom downstairs, but I insisted we just spend some quality time together. Though he would have preferred another round of horizontal exercise, he graciously followed my wishes, and we spent the morning cuddled together on the couch, watching TV.

    Upon arriving home, my mother announced it was time to do some school shopping, to which both Chris and I groaned allowed.

    "Now, boys," my mother declared, "this has to be done today. I have to work all week and you start school on Wednesday. Christopher, your mother has given me some money to get your supplies as well. She is very busy trying to coordinate the new move, so she asked me to help out. Now get dressed, both of you, and meet me in the car in ten minutes."

    With little haste did we untangle ourselves from the couch and go downstairs to get dressed. However, once my mother began honking intermittently, I knew it was time to speed up our efforts. We threw our clothes on, hastily and ran upstairs, and scuffled out the door just in time to hear two more beeps of the car horn.

    As we strode the mall together, my mother 30 feet in front of us, of course, we looked for our favorite apparel stores. To my mother's protestations, we refused to let her help us pick out our clothes, instead relying on the tastes of each other.

    "You look better in black," Chris commented when he saw me grabbing a pair of faded blue jeans. Taking his advice, I ditched the blue jeans, grabbed some black baggy ones, a couple of khakis, and some cargo pants.

    Chris tried on some of the same, though he had a style all his own. He seemed to like the Old Navy type apparel. I was no help; I thought he looked sexy in anything, even if they were the most hideous clothes on the planet. So, if he wanted to spare his own embarrassment, he’d have to do it himself.

    After my mother paid for our clothes, and we had a late lunch together, we stopped at a shoe store and acquired a couple snazzy pairs of shoes. We were tempted to get the same exact shoes, but figured we'd look a little suspicious walking around like that in school together.

    Finishing up our day of shopping, we purchased loads of paper and pencils, notebooks and folders, our jovial mood from being together ruined by the final realization that our summer was almost over. In less than three days, we would be in school, listening to our teachers drone on, and we would most definitely have less time to spend together. I prayed to a God that I thought still owed me for my shitty, depressing childhood that we would have a few classes together, though if we couldn't control our behavior in public, having even one class together and successfully hiding our closeted homosexuality would be a chore for the both of us.

    Once we arrived home, Chris called his mother, who would be picking him up shortly. Chris gathered his stuff by the door and we waited together for her to arrive. As the car pulled up to take my love away from me, albeit temporarily, we hugged each other behind the privacy of the front door, I opened the door for my love and he departed. I stood by the door and watched him get into his mother’s car, and did not look away until the car had driven out of sight.

    The following day, my mother had to go to work, so I was sent over to Chris' house, whose parents were still unpacking the last of the boxes from the move. We helped re-arrange the furniture to their liking, and then went to his room. He showed me his new room, which, not surprisingly, was still in boxes. If I was just "getting to know" Chris in this, the beginning of our relationship, and was inconvenienced by a move, I know I would skip as much as I could in order to free up time for my love.

    As we hung up his new clothes, we talked about this and that, nothing important really. His mother informed us that our High School registration was at 2pm, so we had just enough time to eat lunch, dress in our new clothes for the school pictures, and go to the orientation. Though I was a sophomore, and he was a freshman, there was still hope for us to be together during the school year. Our gym classes were split into two groups: freshman/sophomore and junior/senior days, so we had a shot at being in the same gym class. Then there was lunch, which we hoped would be the same. We were in the same math class together, Chris being a year ahead of me in that department, thus we were both going to be in Geometry. Those, unfortunately, would be the only classes we had even the slightest chances of being together in.

    At the orientation, we both scrambled to our perspective lines in the office, retrieving our class schedules first. We scurried out of the office and to the corner of the school lobby, excitedly comparing our schedules. To our luck, we had Gym and Math together, as well as lunch period. After finding our lockers and locating which class was where, we finished registration, had our pictures taken, and were on our way.

    Chris' mother dropped me off around 5, just in time to help my mother make dinner, and I spent the rest of the night and the following day at home, preparing for school. I called Chris later that night and we talked for a while, about which teachers we had. I warned him to watch out for one, and that another was so easy all you had to do was show up, and we continued for an hour or so.

    I never used to talk so much on the phone, but ever since I found my new BOYFRIEND, a word I loved to repeat over and over in my head, I just gabbed like crazy. I'm pretty sure he didn't mind though, as I knew he would tell me to shut up if I was talking too much. I discovered that honesty is something that I could expect from him, as he could from me, in our relationship. I wouldn't mind if he told me to shut up, I'd just be happy that he knew I wouldn’t take it personally.

    After our long conversation, which left me longing for his touch again, I decided I needed to deal with the straining erection I’d had for the entire phone conversation, so I slowly pleasured myself, enjoying a warm soothing orgasm, then drifting off to sleep, thoughts of Chris never leaving my mind.

    I wondered how school would affect our relationship, as I was not ready to be open about my sexuality to everyone who know and loved (and many cases hated) me. I was sure that my close friends would be fine with it, but there were a lot of gay jokes and accusations going around school, and I didn’t want to be any more apart of it than I already was.

    I never could defend myself physically, thus anything they threw at me stuck with little opposition. I really hated it, but, at that time, my self-esteem was pretty much at a record low in my life. I found no safe haven from the abuse I took from others, even from my own brother and sister.

    I decided to talk to my mother on Monday night about my depression, and she was very compassionate and understanding, and made an appointment to see my doctor on Friday. My mother asked me if I wanted to find a local counselor in the area, but I told her I’d ask Dr. Beck when I saw him on Friday. I was always very comfortable with his style and had no doubt that he would be serious and non-judgmental on the subject, so I just waited for the days to pass.

    Chris was stuck home Tuesday, continuing to get things organized in his new home. But we called each other all day long. My mother was getting annoyed at having to hear the phone ring 6 times that day, but resigned herself to doing nothing, not wanting to put a damper on my happiness. We were excited to see how our new relationship would develop, especially with the obstacles of school to dodge. It would be an adjustment, but we were so happy with being together at all, that it didn’t matter then.

    When the alarm sounded at 6am Wednesday morning, I was very unhappy. I loathed with passion having to get up so early in the morning, but the remembrance of what waited for me at school was enough to put enough hustle in me to be early for class, one of very few that day.

    Though I was almost seventeen, “problems” with certain officials at the department of motor vehicles left me without a license or a car that year. I remembered being so excited when I got to take driver’s education a year ahead of most of the kids in my same graduating class, as I was a year older than them. I thought I was the cat’s pajamas, being one of the only freshmen that could drive. But alas, the evil dictators at the DMV put a stop to my gloating real fast. I tried every month, but I never seemed able to convince the instructor of my solid driving ability. I hoped that the ego boost of having a hot new boyfriend would somehow make it easier for me to trust myself and pass that test with flying colors. After all, what good was having a boyfriend if you couldn’t take him around in your hot rod and spoil him to no end?

    After my MOTHER dropped me off at school, I met up with Chris shortly before Geometry was to begin. I knew I was going to loathe having math at 8am. But hey, at least I have a gorgeous boyfriend to drool over while the minutes ticked away.

    Chris and I walked off to a quiet corner and had a small conversation while we waited for the final bell. I started.

    “You better not distract me too much with your cuteness in there. I need to get good grades or my parents will kill me!”

    “Can I help that I’m THIS good looking?” he asked with a sly grin. “Well, you better not get too distracted 'cause I hate geometry. I’m gonna need all the help I can get.”

    “Wait a second,” I pondered, “you’re a year ahead of me in math, and you’re the one who needs the extra help?”

    “Well how am I supposed to pay attention when I have to deflect all your goofy stares all day?”

    “Good point,” I concluded. Just then, the final bell rang, and a herd of students filed into the classroom, where an older, white-haired gentleman stood at the front podium.

    Chris took a seat in the middle of the room, one seat from the front, which I assumed was meant for me. Lord knows if I had been sitting anywhere but in front of him, I’d fail that class for sure.

    “Ok kids, quiet down now” the teacher started, “I’m Mr. Anderson, and this is Geometry. It’s nice to see some of you back again. I hope you enjoyed your summer vacation. Now, let’s take attendance and we’ll get started.”

    On the class went, for 50 minutes, while the teacher took attendance, passed out textbooks and explained his rules and expectations, giving only one intro assignment and leaving the last fifteen minutes for free time.

    As soon as Mr. Anderson left the podium, I turned around and started talking to Chris about all the weird things I knew of Mr. Anderson. Luckily, he was one of the most easy-going math teachers on staff, so I figured things would go pretty smoothly for Chris and me.

    Once class let out, Chris and I got in our last comments, and then separated for the next period. He was headed to the technology wing for computer class, and I was going to Biology.

    Biology promised to be one of the easiest classes I’d ever taken, and I was pleased to have a funny and interesting teacher, for this year. She would no doubt put a lot of info on my plate to absorb, but I had faith that she would present it in a way that would leave me with a good foundation.

    Third period I had English, while Chris had history. English was also a fairly easy course for me, as I was a natural writer. I liked creating imaginative stories for myself and others, ones where I could pretend I was whoever I wanted to be, and throw caution to the wind, much to the opposite of what I was in real life. Hopefully, with a new hottie by my side, I would gain some courage in this crazy thing called life, and my weaknesses would cease to be of such great importance, as they seemed to be at that point.

    Chris and I met up for lunch forth period, Me bringing a sack lunch and Chris purchasing something from the dreaded school cafeteria. I had not eaten more than 10 school lunches in my 9+ years in grade school, and would continue the same behavior through my senior year. It’s hard to eat lunch from a place where you have personally witnessed several people purging their vile lunches on the floor 2 feet from where you’re standing, and not have it affect you. I mostly just listened as Chris talked about his morning classes. I always felt more at ease with letting someone else talk more, as I like to absorb their positive energy, to help make up for the negativity I had held so closely toward my own life.

    At one point in the conversation, Chris noticed I was staring intently at his sparkly green eyes, smiled, and reached under the table for my hand, to which I responded in kind. Holding my boyfriend’s soft, warm and delicate hand in mind gave me a warm thrill and a painful smile that refused to leave my face until well after lunch had ended.

    After lunch, Chris and I reluctantly parted again, he going to English, while I went to US history. Though I did manage to catch most of my new teacher’s ramblings that period, thoughts of Chris never ceased. I couldn’t wait for next period, when we’d have gym together.

    The idea of being with Chris every other day for gym excited and terrified me all at the same time. I mean, here I was, in a place where it was ok to just take your clothes off. It was ok to be scantily clothed for a few minutes every other day. It was ok to laugh and joke and play around, all while we all got sneak peeks at each other’s packages. Granted, we couldn’t stare for too long, but at least I got to see the well defined chest and arms, the smooth and silky legs, the sexy six pack of my lover, the faint impression of his c*** as he took longer than was necessary to fish around in his bag for an elusive missing item of clothing. Sometimes, I’d catch him giving me a quick wink in acknowledgement of my suspicions of his playful and erotic teasing ritual. He had me wrapped around his finger and he knew it. I didn’t mind though, I loved that boy to no end.

    We didn’t do much during that period, except go over rules and get locker assignments. I’m not sure why we even dressed down in the first place, but I wasn’t about to question our wise teachers. After all, I got 2 chances to see my love strip to almost naked in front of me. We even shared the same locker in gym. I know I sprang a boner as we got dressed at the end of class. Chris saw it too, and smiled. I hoped we’d be able to get together soon to do something about this problem of mine, but we’d just have to see.

    Last period of the day, I had a free period, while Chris had biology. I raced through the small amount of homework I had for that day, and spent the last few minutes of the period attempting to fall asleep. Most of the time, the study hall monitor let us sleep if we wanted to. I just had to be careful not to snore too loud.

    When the final bell rang, I hurriedly gathered all my books together, raced to my locker, depositing all my unneeded books for the night, and looked around for Chris. We ran into each other just outside the main entrance, and he told me that he needed to go home and do some work. I reluctantly let him go but not before looking around to make sure the coast was clear and giving him a quick hug and kiss. He blushed and ran off toward the busses, and I walked tall out towards the staff parking lot, where my mother normally picked me up.

    Five minutes later, my mother arrived, and I threw my bags in the back seat, then plopped my butt in the front seat. I made an audible sigh in awe of my new experiences with Chris. I was hopelessly entranced with the love for my boyfriend. I was almost bursting with anticipation of what was to become of our relationship. My mother looked at me curiously.

    “What’s wrong?”

    “Nothing,” I replied with a smile. “Nothing at all.”

    * * * * *

    Following another two boring days in school, Chris and I were busting to have a weekend of fun. I had been missing being close with my boy so much, that I noticeably popped wood in P.E. Some jackass pointed it out and started laughing, and got the whole locker room laughing. Fortunately, I recovered fast and followed with the ever popular teenage response.

    “Well, if you’re mother had finished me off last night I wouldn’t be so horny now!”

    I wiped the smile off the kids face with that one, and the whole locker room full of boys busted up laughing. Chris laughed and winked at me, impressed with my quick recovery. Hell, even I was impressed with my recovery.

    Having a boyfriend really was giving me quite an ego boost, it seemed. I usually just ignored the comments hurled at me day after day. I couldn’t anymore, ‘cause I had an audience of one very important boy to impress. I was still on a high from the newfound feelings of love in our relationship. I hoped they wouldn’t fade anytime soon. I dreaded the thought of us becoming like my parents some day: old and cold. I mean, I’m pretty sure they loved each other at SOME point in the past, yet nowadays they hardly ever show it. My father likes to be sarcastic, and pick on my mother, and my mother usually laughs it off, though I can see it bothers her a little. I just hope she isn’t hurt too bad by his mean spirited cracks.

    Chris rode home with my mother and me that Friday afternoon. His mother Okayed his sleeping over for Friday night, and we hoped that collectively we could con her into letting him stay over Saturday night as well. We’d call her the next morning to find out about Saturday, but for now we just wanted to enjoy the moment.

    Once we got home, my mother ordered pizzas and soda, and we had a blast watching TV and eating. My mom went out and rented a really funny movie, which we watched after dinner. My mother smiled at me as she watched us, snuggled up together on the couch, adding commentary on the movie and making jokes about the stupid parts.

    My mother would later tell me that a sparkle in my eyes that was once gone had returned that night. I just told her she was crazy, but deep down, I knew she was right. That Friday night was the night I decided I wasn’t going to be depressed about my weaknesses anymore. I knew that, even though I wasn’t perfect, everyone had weak points. Some hide them better, or learn how to cope with them better, but behind every happy face lies the pain of past experiences. In order to appreciate the good times, you must also know what it’s like to feel true depression and desperation. The key to it all is, are you going to waste energy worrying about things you can’t control or things you can?

    I finally understood what my counselors had been trying to tell me all along. Your past doesn’t have to control you, haunt you. All the bad things from my past didn’t matter anymore. I was no longer just trying to survive my situation. I was living it for myself, and for my boyfriend. I had a taste of happiness and I didn’t want to let it go. Chris brought out the best in me, and I in him. We completed each other. I knew that whatever obstacles lay ahead of us, and I was sure there’d be many, we could make it through them together.

    Later that night, after the movie was over, Chris and I retired to my room for the night. As I pulled the sheets back on my bed and prepared it for the night, Chris started goofily singing some seductive song, and sexily took off his shirt, then his pants, and socks. I watched intently as he did so. His smooth body turned me on beyond belief. His boxers were tented, as were mine. I looked down at his package, and licked my lips.

    He strode over to me slowly, then began to strategically disrobe me until I was as he was, left standing in my boxers, erection straining to break free. My need for sexual release was enormous, and I couldn’t wait for Chris to continue at his own pace, so I pulled my boxers down and let them fall to the floor, lifted one leg, and stepped out of it, then used my other foot to kick the boxers away. I stood naked and ready for my lover to conquer me. He finally pulled his own boxers off, though never once breaking the gaze he held with me. Slowly and gently, he walked over to me, placed his hands on my shoulders, and silently guided me to the bed, where we began a long and pleasurable night of lovemaking.

    Chris and I brought each other to the heights of pleasure several times that night, each orgasm more intense than the next. That night, we learned everything there was to know about each other’s bodies. Every inch of skin was explored, every pleasure spot discovered. We had had sex before, but it was this night where we learned how to make love for the first time, to express with our bodies what our souls could never do. It was like bringing truth to every sexual and sensual fantasy I’d ever imagined, and more. That night, Chris and I were one in body and soul.

    As I sat and pondered our future, long after Chris had passed out from exhaustion, I wondered where we would be in a year, in five years, in ten. I feared that maybe we would grow apart. Chris would want to go to one college, while I another. Maybe Chris would fall in love with someone else, and leave me behind, like a stepping stone in his love life. I don’t know what I would have done had Chris ever cast our love aside and sought love from somewhere else. It would devastate me.

    Realizing what I was doing, I snapped myself out of the negative spin I was putting on my future. We loved each other now, and as long as I hold onto what is in front of me, I was sure to be fine.

    The remainder of our weekend was equally exciting to the first night. Each moment spent discovering new pleasure zones of my lover brought us further into complete intimacy. I wondered to myself if I would ever tire of such activity, but one gaze at my partner in love removed all doubt from my mind. For, every moment spent in his embrace was like the first all over again.

    This chapter is more transitional than anything. I believe you will find the proceeding chapters quite different from my original style, but it is definitely for the better, so I hope you enjoy it.


    Comments and/or constructive criticism to bwctadmin@cox.net .

  6. Love Transcending, Chapter 7

    Comments and/or constructive criticism to bwctadmin@cox.net .

    After what seemed to be an unbearable eternity, Friday afternoon arrived, as did Chris, at precisely 7 o’clock pm. I had spent our day apart thoroughly cleaning my room, picking up every speck of trash, and tidying up the bed. Cleanliness was never a strong suit of mine; however my desire to impress my boyfriend overpowered my laziness.

    My mother greeted him at the door, and as he walked down the stairs to my room, I did a last minute check and sprayed a manly room freshener around to add to the atmosphere.

    Chris came through the door lazily; pushing it closed with his back, sighing heavily as he spoke. “Wow….that was the longest day of my life!”

    I laughed out loud in agreement, walked over to my love, who was still backed against the door, and French kissed him as passionately as I could. “I missed you too. So, what do you want to do first?”

    ‘I know what I want to do first,’ Chris thought to himself, ‘but it’s too early for that yet.’ “Oh, I don’t know. Got any good videos?”

    “Girlfriend,” I joked, “VCRs are out. DVDs are in!”

    Chris shot me a quizzical expression. “What the heck is a DVD?”

    “I have no idea,” I answered truthfully, “but I do know that it’s twice as expensive as a VCR.” Chris and I burst out laughing.

    “Oh and by the way,” Chris added, “you’re the girl in this relationship, and I’m the boy. Got it, ‘girlfriend?’”

    “I think not,” I responded. “Need I remind you who is better at wrestling again? Or would you prefer a demonstration?”

    Chris mocked me playfully. “That’s ok, I wouldn’t want you to break a nail or anything.”

    “Oh that is it!” I declared, attacking my boyfriend and pushing him onto my bed, where we wrestled around playfully for a couple minutes, until I had made my point and we started to get sweaty.

    “Well, now that we’ve established my clear male dominance,” I pronounced, “how about that movie?”

    Chris smiled and let the argument go for the moment, and we began searching through my limited collection of movies, settling on some cheesy action flick, which, surprisingly enough, held our attention for the duration of the feature. Well, most of our attention. We lay on our bellies at the foot of the bed, with our arms crossed under our heads.

    We glanced at each other several times during the movie, smiling affectionately each time our eyes met. It was still hard to believe that I actually had a boyfriend, something I never expected to happen.

    About half-way into the movie, Chris groaned and stretched his torso this way and that, pronouncing “Man, I can’t believe my back still hurts from all the canoeing,” as if it was just implied that I was to give him a back rub. Not that I was unhappy in the least to perform such a task.

    I sat up and straddled my legs on either side of Chris‘ body, guiding my butt to rest on his. Slowly but firmly, I massaged Chris’ back, wanting to give him as much relief as I could. Soon, I became frustrated with his clothing and gave him an order. “Take your shirt off, it’s getting in the way.”

    I helped him pull it over his head, and he tossed it aside, allowing me to continue. I relished the feeling of massaging his soft, bare skin, probing my thumbs deep into his tense muscles. It was an erotic experience, and we were still half dressed. After twenty minutes or so, I sat up and pronounced, “It’s your turn to do me.”

    Chris looked up to me and smiled. “Don’t mind if I do.”

    We switched places and I removed my t-shirt as well, and Chris started working on me. Being on the receiving end of a massage from your lover is even better than giving one, I learned. Every muscle he touched with his soft hands melted instantly, my stiffness disappearing as if it were never there before.

    When he was done, he scooted off of me, lying on his side facing me. I turned myself so I was facing him, seated the same way, and our eyes connected. We stayed there, communicating silently for several minutes. When I could no longer stand the mere inches of separation that stood between us, I pushed him onto his back, laid on top of him, and we started making out. Chris was thoroughly aroused and, to my surprise, was ready to bring our relationship to the next level.

    “Matt,” he stated softly, “I think it’s time.”

    “Are you sure?” I questioned him, knowing full well what it was he was preparing to give to me.

    Chris’ eyes said yes even before he answered. I hopped off the bed and dug through my bottom drawer, retrieving a condom and some lube. I wasn’t sure how well this was going to turn out, as I’d never done it before, but it seemed almost a no-brainer to me: put the stick in the hole. The only points to focus on were gentleness and pleasure.

    I finished dropping my clothes to the floor, my erection standing proud and unhidden, and began working on Chris’ shorts, sliding them down his legs and over his feet, leaving them on the corner of the bed. During the day we were apart, I read up on preparing yourself and your partner for your first experience, and took care to follow each instruction to the T. I feared that if I didn’t do this right, it would turn a wonderful memory into an awkward situation.

    I opened the package of lube and spread some on my index finger, looking up one more time to make sure Chris was ready, to which I received the go-ahead nod. I inserted the first finger into Chris’ tiny hole, slowly and gently pushing until it was all the way in. I probed it in and out a few times, making sure my lover was well lubricated, and then proceeded to insert a second finger to help stretch his tight orifice to make room for my manhood. I could see Chris beginning to have some discomfort, so I slowed down until he became more used to the feeling.

    I unknowingly brushed against Chris’ prostate gland, sending a shiver of delight throughout his entire body, causing his p**** to become painfully erect. After I felt he was sufficiently lubricated and would not be hurt much by my impending penetration, I fumbled with the condom nervously, applying it to myself as instructed.

    “Ready?” I asked one last time.

    “Yes,” he answered back in nervous anticipation, biting on his lip lightly while waiting for the final hurdle to be jumped.

    It was now or never, I decided. One last time, I made sure I was well lubed, and then lined myself up with his entrance, pushing against the tight ring of his anus until I felt the muscles relax and the head slide in. The hardest part was over. I looked up at Chris, who seemed momentarily uncomfortable, but relaxed as the pain subsided. I continued slowly pushing myself into him, bit by bit, until I was as far in as I could go.

    Taking a minute to rest, I gazed up at my lover, who was anxiously awaiting the fun to come. Gently at first, I pulled myself back, almost removing my c*** entirely, then pushing it back down as far as I could, slowly developing a rhythm with my lover. As soon as I picked up the pace, I could tell with each downward motion of my body, I was stimulating Chris’ prostate repeatedly. I could tell by the high pitched grunts my lover made, that I was giving him the ultimate pleasure.

    Chris c*** pulsed with the rhythm of his heartbeat, being stimulated without so much as a helping hand. As I continued humping my lover, brushing that electrifying button deep inside of him, Chris leaked significant amounts of precum. Chris had his arms over his head and eyes closed, but he gently lifted his groin to meet the thrusts of my manhood.

    The tightness of his as yet unexplored bowels caused my erection to receive ample stimulation, as his warm insides surrounded it lovingly. I had never experienced such an intimate pleasure in my entire life. Here I was, taking the virginity of my best friend and lover, whom I had dreamed of for three long years. I was in Heaven, and judging by the audible moans of my boyfriend, the thrashing of his arms over the sheets, the sweat glistening on his skin, and the pre-orgasmic fluids freely dripping onto his stomach, he was deriving as much pleasure from this experience as I was.

    The pressure of his tight anus squeezing my erection became too much for me. I felt my testicles tingle as they prepared my semen for release, and the skin of my sac pulled them closer to my body as the pressure built to its peak. I knew I was going over the edge. With the little control I had left, I sped up dramatically and repeatedly pushed on the walls of Chris’ prostate, until he could no longer hold back either. He released a powerful and productive orgasm, the contents of which shot over his head and hit the headboard of my bed. There was a trail of his ejaculate spread across his face, neck, chest and stomach, and his p**** continued to twitch madly until his flow of semen had been depleted.

    Excited by watching my lover explode in a blissful, ecstatic orgasm, I was sent over the edge, releasing an equally powerful orgasm, which made my groin tingle with pleasure. It also sent a wave of warm erotic energy to spread like an ocean wave over my entire body, pleasing every area of my torso, from the top of my head, to the tips of my fingers and all the way down to my toes. I let loose so much ejaculate that the gooey white liquid was actually dripping out of the bottom of my condom and pooling in my curly pubic hair.

    Chris lay there and took in the feeling of pleasure from both ends, experiencing my own orgasm as well as one of his own. His eyes were fixed on me, silently communicating the feelings he had experienced and the new level of intimacy we had achieved by this special act. We were now one, our bodies connected forever. I couldn’t wait for Chris to return the favor, by taking my most sacred possession, my virginity. I was so ready to share it with him, but we knew we each needed time to recover. I wasn’t a very healthy person, and this exercise wore on me once the bliss of orgasm had faded.

    We lay together for an hour or so, each trying to comfort the other, to help savor the feelings of our sexual activity. As this was fairly new to us, Chris and I did not recover as quickly as we had hoped, so we decided to put the rest of our plans on hold until tomorrow night, when it would be my turn to lose my virginity.

    The depth of my description of the blissful feelings I experienced from taking his virginity seemed to excite him even more, and he seemed to be very ill at ease with having to wait until tomorrow night. It was still hard to believe that everything we just did was real. I never thought in a million years that I would one day be making love to my first crush, a boy who I thought was as straight as an arrow, up until the night before he left my life, over two years ago.

    We fell asleep together again, each of us basking in the warmth our bodies created together. I knew then that I would never tire of Chris, and sharing my love with him. I felt so strongly of our bond, that I was prepared to use any and all means in my power to keep us together through the rocky path we would inevitably encounter in the days, weeks, months, and years to come. I’d found my star-crossed lover, and I would let nothing stand in my way.

    I awoke to see my sweet, angelic boyfriend staring lovingly at me the next morning, gently brushing the hair out of my eyes. He leaned down to kiss me, and we enjoyed a warm moment together before Chris advised that we had to get up and get moving, before my mother walked in and caught us in an awkward position. While I found this “sneaking around” thing quite annoying, I knew it needed to be done, at least for a while, until I came out to my parents properly, and that wasn’t something I planned to do any time soon.

    We made our way upstairs, showering separately, to keep our level of intimacy on the down-low. We could afford to be “good friends” in front of my parents and siblings, but anything more and there would elicit lots of questions.

    Chris showered first, while I stayed in the kitchen, cooking myself a couple of waffles and some bacon, before pouring a big glass of chocolate milk to drink. I leafed through the paper to see if there were any good movies playing that night, and was thoroughly disgusted with my choices. ‘Oh well,’ I thought, ‘I guess we’ll have to stay in tonight…’

    I had just finished up my breakfast when Chris emerged from the bathroom, his hair still wet and his body free of dirt and…other substances. I think he had also sprayed on some of my dad’s cologne, which by itself was not bad, because it was a nice scent. However, I feared that if we were to engage in any more sexual activities tonight, I might feel uncomfortable smelling the same odor that my father carried around with him every day. It just wasn’t right. I kept my mouth shut though. There was no way to deal with it then, as the damage had already been done. I thought maybe if we worked off enough energy during the day, it would be gone by nightfall.

    “Shower’s all yours,” Chris stated, patting me on the shoulder.

    With that, I disappeared into the bathroom and did my morning hygiene ritual, although I obsessed over my face more than usual. Suddenly, I realized how many pimples I had and it disgusted me. I decided to look around for some acne cream and spotted a tube that appeared to be really old. I smeared some over the effected areas and hoped there was some potency left in it, before I finished dressing.

    As I entered the kitchen, I found Chris and my mother talking about how much he enjoyed the canoe trip. “The trip was such a blast, I can’t believe that so much exercise could be fun,” he revealed. “And Matt made sure to include me on a lot of interesting games at night.”

    My mouth dropped open and I shot a shocked look at Chris, who just smiled and winked at me. I composed myself quickly, so my mother wouldn’t notice how much his statement had affected me, but silently I vowed to get him back later that night.

    Thankfully, my sometimes blissfully ignorant mother did not catch on to Chris’ inside joke, and I let out a mental sigh of relief. Shortly after breakfast, my mother left to run errands, telling us that she would be gone most of the day, and not to burn the house down, keep the doors locked, and don’t let anyone in the house. Though I often thought her instructions were way too juvenile and unnecessary, I quickly agreed as Chris and I pushed her out the door. My mother was such a nag, but I still loved her.

    Once she was gone, we were excited at having the house to ourselves. We decided to just have a chill day, as we were still recovering from the canoe trip, and the Friday night after party. We lay on our backs as close together as we could, while watching TV, holding hands the entire time.

    I couldn’t help the overwhelming urge to be in contact with him at all times. If we weren’t holding hands, then I was stroking his arm, tracing circles on his chest with my finger, or running my hands through his hair. I had always been a very touchy-feely person, but I never had anyone to practice on until Chris came back into my life.

    Chris could only concentrate on the TV for about thirty seconds before he instinctively looked over at me and smiled. I loved his thoughtful gazes. He thought I was special and made sure I knew it.

    Half way through whatever crappy Saturday morning movie we were watching, Chris laid his head on my chest and closed his eyes, falling asleep for a while. I just slowly stroked his hair with my right hand, pushing it away from his face, which looked so peaceful while he slept. I couldn’t bear disrupting his peaceful slumber, so I waited him out.

    I couldn’t believe how turned on he made me, simply by being around him. I’d never felt more alive than the last two weeks we’d been together. I had basically given up on finding love and happiness until recently, when I found out that I would be reunited with Chris again. The moments I’d spent with Chris have made me feel again. I thought I’d buried my sexual desires deep underground, where they could never be used as fuel for homophobic a******* to break me down. Things had changed. I was able to share my love with Chris, and receive his love in return. The feelings were indescribable, and I knew that, even though the road ahead would be rough, I knew we could survive it together.

    After my lover woke from his nap, we continued cuddling together until I heard my mom’s car pull into the driveway. “s**t!” I exclaimed. We scurried down to my bedroom and threw our clothes on quickly, finishing just as she entered the door. We greeted her happily, offering to help her with the groceries.

    Mom looked at us strangely as she saw our sudden eagerness to help her with something which normal teenage boys dreaded. I tried to keep eye contact with Chris to a minimum, not wanting to get caught eyeing up my supposed “friend” in a way that would tip my mother off. We were only a few days into our relationship and we were already looking over our shoulders in fear. I was not looking forward to THIS part of our relationship; though I think in some sick, twisted way it seemed to turn Chris on even more. He would tempt fate by sneaking a wink past my mother, or kissing me quickly on the cheek while my mother’s back was turned. She would look over just in time to see me blush madly, wondering why on earth I would be so nervous around her.

    While we finished tidying up the kitchen, my mother had made the rounds through the house and collected our dirty towels and such. I was surprised when she so nonchalantly placed the small used packet of lube, which I had so carelessly left on the floor of my room, in my hand, commenting, “Don’t let your father see this.” I froze, not knowing just how much she could have deduced by finding such an item in my room. Did she know that Chris and I were having sex? She could have thought that Chris and I were just “experimenting.” Or maybe she just thought I was using it for my own self-pleasure. I sincerely hoped it was the latter of the three. My mother was a Bible fanatic, and I had no idea how she would react to my coming out to her. I didn’t think she’d hate me, but I really didn’t want to hear the whole “gay people go to hell” myth that her Catholic Church likes to peddle.

    Once the groceries had been tended to, I told my mom we were going for a walk, which piqued Chris’ interest. I led him out into our large backyard, which extended about 100 feet to a creek, with a hill rising up behind it to support the train tracks running through the city. We climbed the hill and walked the tracks over the bridge to the other side of the creek, directing ourselves toward the bike path, which wound around the lake. It wasn’t a great lake by any means. I believe someone once told me that it used to be a source of clay (mining?) or something, so it had been dug out and filled by artificial means, then stocked with fish.

    We were lucky to have the path virtually to ourselves that day, so we slowly walked the path, mostly in silence. I took a chance by looking around for any prying eyes, and when I saw there were none around, I grabbed Chris’ hand and interlaced my fingers with his. He looked up at me and smiled, and then we kept walking for about three-quarters of a mile, to the point where the path ended, before we turned around.

    Everything seemed brighter that day. The trees seemed greener, the aroma of the flowers in bloom more powerful, and the wind seemed to sing in harmony with the birds in the trees. I had never taken notice to the beauty of nature until that very moment. Upon until now, it was hard to see such beauty in other things. I had never experienced them before that wonderful week in the Boundary Waters, but now that I was with Chris, they just seem to jump out at me from all directions.

    When we returned home, it was getting closer to dinner, so we sat and watched an afternoon movie as my mother folded laundry and tended to the house as was her normal weekend routine. We had pizza that night, ordered from some local establishment, which we liked better, because the food seemed to taste fresher than from the typical mainstream places. I was always a big pizza fan and my favorite activity would be sitting in front of the TV, eating pizza, drinking Pepsi or Coke, and for a change of pace, being close to my love.

    After exhausting every effort to find some engaging program to watch and failing miserably, we retired to my room for the night. I closed and locked the door after we entered, as I always did when I relaxed in my room, and we tinkered around with my computer for a while. I showed him a couple gay teen love stories I had found online, which I used often to facilitate my own fantasies. We played some computer games and chatted with some of my friends, typical teen stuff I guess. What was fairly atypical was the way we clung to each other though. I draped my arm over his shoulder for a while, then would place one hand on his thigh, rubbing gently until I noticed him responding. He gasped as I rubbed the tent in his shorts, his erection now making itself painfully obvious to my lover.

    When we decided it was safe (when my parents had gone to bed), we took out our essentials and prepared for our late night activities. Chris asked me once again, before we started, if I was sure that I was ready. I agreed that I was, so we decided to get down to business.

    He first took off all his clothes, in a goofily-seductive way, trying to imitate some of the routines we had seen on various breeder movies over the years. He rubbed his hairless chest sensuously, while grinding his crotch into his hand and moaning quietly. I was extremely turned on and couldn’t wait for us to get down to business. He knew I was eager and decided to save the cheesy p*** star bit for another day, so he kicked the rest of his clothing off, then pushed me onto my back on the bed, sitting on my stomach. He lifted my shirt over my head and tossed it into the corner, and then we kissed deeply for a few minutes, while his hands freely caressing my chest and stomach. He began undoing my pants while he had me pinned down on the bed, sliding them down past my knees, and I pulled my feet through the legs and left them sitting at the foot of the bed. We were now both completely naked, our erections touching and our smooth skin tickling each other’s. Chris sat up and grabbed another packet of lube from my bedside table, squeezing some in my hands and rubbing them together to help warm it up. I looked up at Chris lovingly, giving him permission with my eyes to have his way with me.

    He pulled my legs up and placed them on his shoulders, on either side of his head, before he carefully inserted the first finger into my backside, which caused me to release an emotional grunt. He could tell that I was enjoying the stimulation his finger evoked and he was not surprised to see my level of pleasure increase, when he inserted the second lube-covered finger into my anus. He pulled and then pushed his fingers in and out energetically, until he felt I was loose enough to try the real thing.

    He affixed the condom over his erection, and then covered it with a generous coating of KY to minimize my discomfort. Once the preparations had been completed, he lined up his erection with my backside, and looked up at me one last time, to make sure this is what I wanted. I bit my lip in nervous anticipation and nodded for him to proceed.

    After my final confirmation was given, Chris gently inserted the head of his p**** into me, an act that caused great pain and pleasure at the same time. I did what was suggested in the materials I had read on the Internet, and pushed down on my abdominal muscles, relaxing the tight muscle that kept him from proceeding. As the pain lessened and the pressure became less intense, Chris continued pushing downward until he was completely inside of me. After waiting and giving me time to adjust to this new feeling, he began his rhythmic movements, which filled my body with unbridled sensations of pleasure. The pressure of his boyhood inside of me was unlike anything I had ever felt before, and each time he hit the prostate gland, a hot pleasurable euphoria spread throughout my pelvic area.

    Chris’ body and mine were obviously straining from these activities, and we were both covered in sweat from head to toe. I couldn’t believe it felt so good to have my lover inside of me. Unable to be solely a passenger in my own sexual escapades, I masturbated in time to Chris’ work, and reveled at the awesome feelings that we were creating together.

    Each time Chris pulled away and pushed back down, I would clamp down on his erection, causing him to shudder in ecstasy, pulling him deeper and deeper inside of me. I could tell he was almost there, as he sped up and then suddenly buried himself as far inside as he could, and grunted with pleasure as he came with his erection inside of me. Just as he finished with his own orgasm, he withdrew from me, grabbed my hand and removed it from my own c***, before taking me into his mouth. Lovingly, he pleased my most sensitive organ with such great care that the feelings became too much and I could no longer restrain myself, and I came into his mouth. It was an incredible experience that I would never forget.

    They say that getting a blowjob is better than any other type of sex, but that weekend I knew that was not true. For, any sexual act between two lovers is infinitely pleasurable and I couldn’t believe how wonderful he made me feel, inside and out. I had finally lost my virginity to the first and only boy I had ever loved.

    We fell asleep still entangled together, in the same fashion as the night before, continuing to revel in each other’s warm presence.

    I felt Chris stir sometime during the night, leaving the room briefly to go to the bathroom, then returning to my bed, curling up beside me, stroking my back as I rested my tired body.

    I was too tired to notice that Chris forgot to lock the door after he returned from his late night bathroom trip. We’d soon be paying for that careless blunder.

    I awoke early Sunday morning, my muscles still sore from our lovemaking the night before. I rubbed my nose gently against Chris’ neck, which caused him to pull away, mumbling something incoherent, before he fell back to sleep again. Not even close to being done messing with him, I nuzzled my nose into the nape of his neck again, and he pulled away once more, this time saying something which sounded like, “mom, quit it.”

    I looked at him cross and decided that I was through with being subtle. I threw back the covers of the bed, which surprised Chris and his eyes shot open, mouth agape.

    “Dude, it’s cold!” he exclaimed.

    “Well then,” I responded, “lemme help you warm up….” I pinned him down with my naked body, our erections once again pressed together. I ran my hands through his hair as we made out for several minutes, our crotches grinding together with little urgency.

    As I sat up to give him a breather, I glanced over at the door and my jaw dropped to the floor. My eyes locked onto the figure of my mother standing in the doorway, a shocked expression on her face. I just sat there not knowing what to say. Chris was still humping my groin when I slapped him on the head and he screamed at me.

    “Dude, what the f**k?”

    I cleared my throat, and nodded my head in my mother’s direction.

    He took one look at my concerned mother staring in awe, and responded appropriately. “Oh shit….”

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  7. Love Transcending, Chapter 6

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    We were all up early the next morning, more than ready to complete the last leg of our journey. It was due to be an easy trip; a portage free day. We had a filling breakfast that morning, then proceeded to do our final takedown of camp for the trip.

    Some of us went off to find a private place to bathe, thoroughly sickened by our own filthy, smelly bodies. Even the normally shy scouts seemed uncaring of appearing nude in front of the others, as today was a day that we refused to spoil. Travis and Nate, Chris, and I all scrubbed our bodies feverishly, washing what remained of soil from the week’s strenuous activities. I even noticed that all the work we had done that week had caused me to lose some weight, which was surprising, considering how much I ate. Even Chris’ pecs looked more defined than they did in the beginning. We goofed around for about a half hour, pushing each other under the water and grabbing each other’s privates. No one seemed to mind, as it was all in good fun.

    Once we dried off, dressed and returned to camp, we finished breaking down camp and loaded our canoes, then began paddling the home stretch of our journey. Despite our unwillingness to leave the close knit group we had developed over the past week, we knew that all good things must come to an end. It’s not like we were never going to see each other again, but it was still hard to realize that our care free vacation was over.

    We pushed ourselves to the limit, straining our tired muscles, racing each other when we caught site of the outfitter. Chris and I were neck and neck with Travis and Nate, Mike and Jason not far behind. My resolve gave out close to the end and Travis’ canoe pulled ahead. They arrived at the docks first, climbing out onto the wooden planks, jumping up and down, waving their arms around in triumph.

    The rest of us pulled up soon after, tying up our canoes, tearing off our life preservers, and running up the dock to the outfitter. We sat around and waited a bit for the outfitters to get the canoe trailers set up, and then loaded them up one by one, and depositing our life jackets and paddles back in the supply shed.

    None of us talked much during our checking out time, as we were soaking up the events of the last week, realizing just how much ground we covered, almost fifty miles. I was ecstatic and proud that my unhealthy teenage body held out as long as it did.

    Once the gear was returned to the outfitter, we loaded all our personal equipment into our trailer then piled into the cars, strapped ourselves in, and prepared for the long ride home.

    It was already past lunch time, and we were looking at arriving late that night. Our leaders discussed the options we had to spend the rest of that day: either drive straight through, or find a hotel somewhere along the way. To be honest, I was so tired that the prospect of an uncomfortable six hour nap in the car on the way home sounded extremely unpleasant. That seemed to be the general consensus from the group, and the leaders agreed that we would drive back into Grand Marais, then stop for dinner and stay the night.

    I know Chris and I were ecstatic with the idea of sharing a hotel bed together. While sitting down to eat dinner, we agreed to partner with Travis and Nate, which left Mike, Nick, and Jason together in the other room. As for the leaders, no one cared who slept with whom, so don’t ask.

    After dinner, we drove around a bit until we found a suitable motel, with reasonable prices. They gave us a group discount, and we stayed there fairly cheap. We were advised not to bother bringing in our gear, except maybe for a change of clothes. Unpacking our gear another time seemed grossly unnecessary.

    I was the first to grab a towel and dash towards the shower, desperately wanting to feel the warm water as it cleansed my body. Once I had completely disrobed and was about to step into the shower, there was a knock on the door. I stood in front of the door, using it to shield my nakedness to whoever was on the other side. I was relieved to see that it was only Chris.

    “Hey…..is there room for two in that shower?” he asked curiously.

    I looked over at the generously proportioned shower, reached my arm through the crack in the door, and quickly pulled Chris into the bathroom. I could have sworn I heard two boys giggling on the other side, but I couldn’t be sure.

    Chris and I embraced, lips locked in a sensuous kiss. My exposed hardness pressed against his clothes, knocking on Chris’ door, asking if little Chris wanted to come out and play. With Chris’ permission, I began slowly and erotically undressing my love, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it in the corner, unbuckling his belt, unzipping his pants, and dropped them to the floor, leaving him standing there in his jockeys. I slid my thumbs underneath the elastic of his underwear, pulling them gently over his erection and down to the floor. He stepped out of his clothes and was now as naked as I was. We walked each other over to the shower and got in, closing the glass door behind us.

    Slowly and gently, we began bathing each other, rubbing soap into every crack and crevasse on each other’s body. Our hard-ons stood proud in excitement and anticipation. We loved bathing together; it was a soothing and erotic experience, but we decided to save it for underneath the covers. Not to say that we didn’t take our time showering, but if we were to get too excited, we’d have no energy left for the bedroom. After thoroughly enjoying our warm, steamy shower, we dried each other off and streaked through the bedroom, jumping under the covers quickly, putting the peep show to an end.

    Travis was visibly disappointed, but he would unknowingly be experiencing his own pleasure with Nate that night, who seemed to be in a hormonally-charged mood that would grey the line of his sexuality for the night.

    As we kissed under the covers, hands roving all over each other’s smooth bodies, preparing for a long night of sensuous love making, pronounced to his bed partner, “I can’t stand watching them like that.” He ducked his head under the covers, causing Travis to assume that he wanted no part in the night’s activities. To Travis’ surprise, Nate pulled his friend under the covers and put a finger to his lips, ushering him to be quiet. He began tugging at Travis’ pajama bottoms, slowly sliding his bed wear to his feet. He then took time to disrobe himself, and both boys were now completely naked and aroused.

    Travis had never seen Nate with an erection, and was quite surprised at its size. His c*** stood almost 7 inches, over 1 and a half inches larger than his own. He was somewhat jealous, but didn’t wish to hurt Nate’s feelings. He knew it was nature’s control.

    Both boys were noticeably nervous of how to proceed at that point, so Nate decided to guide his friend carefully, gently grasping Travis’ hand at the wrist and bringing it down to his erection, which Travis held with caution.

    Seeing as Travis appeared overcome with nervous tension, Nate furthered his assistance by gently guiding Travis’ hand up and down his own shaft, helping him create a rhythm until he was able to continue on himself. Travis took great care in stimulating his partner, as he knew this was a gift from his more experienced friend. He tried to work as delicately as if it were his own erection, wanting to share his blissful feelings with Nate.

    Once Travis got more comfortable with his own ministrations, Nate grasped Travis’ boyhood and stimulated him as well, taking the same care to comfort as Travis. The boys looked lustfully in each other’s eyes, enjoying the pleasurable sensations of mutual masturbation. Travis used his other hand to trace lines down Nate’s defined pectorals and smooth stomach.

    Their eyes shifted back and forth between their erections and the eyes of their partner as their stimulation had begun igniting pre-orgasmic pleasure. Travis began humping his friend’s hand rhythmically, deriving as much pleasure as he could. As this was Travis’ second sexual experience with another boy, he didn’t last very long, and soon grunted heavily, and ejaculated large strings of semen onto Nate’s chest. While still lost in his own feelings, Travis continued flogging Nate until he too reached a powerful orgasm.

    Travis relished the feeling of another boy’s seed on his chest. He dabbed a little on his finger and tasted it, a bitter, salty, pheromonic concoction that left Travis wanting for more. He knew, though, that getting this much out of Nate was a blessing alone, and refused to push his friend any further that night.

    Chris and I were content just to cuddle together that night, gazing over at our horny companions, happy that Travis had finally begun exploring his sexuality with someone that was willing to “show him the ropes.”

    We slept nude as was our growing tradition, sharing the warmth of each others bodies and communicating our endless love in our embrace. Though we knew that tomorrow was the day we would be returning home, we knew that the closeness we had shared would be seriously restricted due to our upcoming return to school, and dreaded the inevitable game of “hide from mom and dad” that we would have to play on the nights we would be able to enjoy together. It was a hard road ahead, we agreed, but I knew I would be fine as long as I had my lover by my side.

    The following morning, we awoke energized and excited that we would soon be home, back to our own beds, computers and televisions, all vitally important teenage necessities.

    We had a quick breakfast at a local restaurant, each paying for his own fill, then piled back into the vehicles and began our long ride home. Chris and I rode in Gene’s SUV, myself sitting in the middle of the back seat, surrounded by my friend and my lover. We were still too tired to make any interesting conversation. We shifted our focus between the radio, some magazines, and a couple handheld electronics to keep us from being overcome with boredom, but it was inevitable.

    Chris was being silly that morning, trying to sleep comfortably with his head propped up against the window. It was painful and amusing to watch at the same time. Wishing to end his suffering, I pulled him towards me, allowing him to use my body as a pillow, resting his head on the soft part of my chest. I stretched out my left arm and draped it over his chest and stomach, comforting both myself and my love as well.

    It became apparent fairly soon that my upper body was not making a good enough pillow for him, so he laid his head upon my lap, pushing his right arm behind my back and placing his left on my knee. I cherished the closeness and warmth of my love resting on my thighs; sound of his rhythmic breathing sang to my ears. Frankly, I don’t know how he got any sleep with a six inch stick poking at his head for six hours. I was so in love with the boy I held in my arms. I knew our relationship was just starting, and I couldn’t wait for it to blossom even further.

    I lost time during the ride, lost in the comfort of having my lover sleeping on me, and was suddenly surprised when I felt a warm hand gently groping my genitals over the fabric of my blue jeans.

    I looked down and caught Chris in the act; he gave me a wicked grin and said, “I’m awake.”

    “So am I,” I responded with equal mischievousness. We smiled at each other and I stroked his head lightly for a few minutes.

    When he was fully awake he sat up, yawning and stretching his tired muscles, asking in one long yawn “are we there yet?” It was so cute I had to giggle at his use of such a juvenile, clichéd expression.

    “We just passed Albert Lea,” I answered. That meant we had about forty miles to go. Travis, Chris and I became excited that home was only minutes away. I couldn’t wait to get back to civilization and start my new life with Chris.

    I knew that Chris and his father would have a lot to do in the next couple weeks, looking for a house and all, but I still hoped we could squeeze in some time together. In fact, I asked Gary if Chris could sleep over at my house minutes before we arrived back at Tony’s house, which he gladly accepted.

    It was mid afternoon once we arrived, and we decided not to bother calling all the parents of the boys, instead breaking up the group into those boys who needed to be dropped off on the west side of Mason, and those on the east side. Since Chris was coming with me, we went with Travis’ Dad to the west side.

    All I could think about was getting him alone that night, spending hours with him in the warm confines of my full size bed, which up until that point, had yet to be shared with anyone. Dozens of ideas as to how we would occupy our time flashed through my head as we rode towards my house. I didn’t want to get my hopes up, as I wasn’t sure how much “alone time” we would be afforded for the rest of the day, but I figured since I was in the basement, we would have a little privacy, should we desire to engage in any love making activities.

    When we got to my house, Chris and I lugged our gear in as quietly as possible, stumbling upon my mother in the living room. I re-introduced her to Chris, whom she hadn’t seen since very soon after we moved to Iowa, and she played “gracious host” and made some sandwiches served with chips and Pepsi for us, but not before smothering the both of us with hugs, kisses, and a myriad of questions about how our trip went.

    After gulping down our food and satisfying the house detective that we had divulged all our details, which, of course, we hadn’t, we galloped down to my room in the basement, where I showed him my state of the art (for 1997 anyway) computer system, my stereo and, the most important item, my full size bed. Chris sat down on the corner of the bed and looked around, impressed. I started my computer and babbled about how awesome it was for a few minutes. Being a techie in training, I felt the need to boast about my computer’s impressive specifications, even to someone that obviously had no reason to care. It was a simple pleasure that I got to share, amidst the voices of degradation I faced daily during my educational career.

    We watched a movie on my computer until I was sure my parents were asleep, then I yanked my lover away from the computer and started pulling at his clothes like a rabid animal.

    “Geez, man, calm down!” Chris ordered.

    I blushed and giggled. “I’m sorry, I’m just excited. You know how long I’ve waited to get you in here?”

    “Two long years,” he replied, pushing me onto the bed and climbing on top of me. He pinned my arms above my head gently but firmly, then started attacking my face with his lips, showering me with sensuous kisses. We ground our crotches into each other with no hesitation this time. My room was well enough away that as long as we didn’t scream, we would be left alone.

    We were both in our underwear, Chris sitting on top of my privates. I took him by surprise while he was kissing my chest, grabbing his shoulders, pushing back on his body, which sent him to his right, and I completed my takeover, our situation now entirely reversed.

    “You should go out for wrestling,” I teased, “so this wouldn’t be so damn easy for me.” It was my turn to attack him this time. I seductively traced my tongue over his body up his left arm, down his chest and stomach, stopping at his belly button and probing it thoroughly, leaving saliva pooled inside.

    I was surprised when Chris directed my attention to his pleading eyes, begging me to partake in the most intimate pleasure we would ever share together. “f**k me.”

    As incredible as it sounded, and as turned on as I was at that moment, I knew that we should wait until we were more prepared. I don’t know if I was ready to go through with it, taking my boyfriend’s virginity, especially without proper lubrication. “Dude, I want to so bad, but…..I don’t want to hurt you, Chris. If we do this now, without any lubrication or anything, it’s gonna be pretty painful. I can’t do that to you. Let’s just wait till this weekend. We can read up a little about it first, find out what we should use and all, then we’ll set my room up all romantic like, and we can do it then, ok?”

    Chris was visibly disappointed, but he knew in his heart that I was right. Losing our virginity together should be a sweet, romantic, and blissful experience. But if we were to do that right then and there, there would be pain, discomfort, and blood. “Well…..let’s look online for some information. You’re good at doin’ that stuff.”

    “Ok…..” I agreed, “But we can’t do anything until we take care of that…..”

    * * * * *

    We slept for a good, long time, as it was the first night of truly comfortable sleep for us in over a week. Chris and I awoke in each other’s arms the next afternoon, our sweaty bodies pressed together, evidence of the previous night’s activities still evident on our smooth bodies.

    For the sake of saving my mother’s innocent eyes (and my own hide), we threw our clothes on before venturing up the stairs to take a shower. Luckily, no one was home that morning. We took advantage of the opportunity and decided to have a relaxing bath together. I was never much into baths before, but things began to change as I became more comfortable and more accustomed to sharing my time with the boy of my dreams.

    I ran the water and retrieved our towels and face cloths as Chris relieved himself, then we climbed into the warm bath soon after. We sat together, Chris leaning on my back, my arms wrapped around his, hands holding each other’s.

    We talked for quite some time about our sexual discoveries. Each of us had our own unique stories, some exciting and funny, some were downright scary. Not every boy we came across during our youth was as excited to mess around as we were, so there were the inevitable bad reactions, and pleadings by us to the boys who held our social lives in their hands, begging them not to spread word of our homosexuality through the school. Luckily, up until that point, we were spared of the true horror of being outed publicly.

    Realizing that at some point we were actually going to have to clean ourselves, Chris and I took turns gently cleaning each other with a soft washcloth, taking extra special care of the genital area.

    Needless to say, the water in the tub was significantly dirtier than when we went in that morning. Oh well, Mom would never notice. After Stepping out of the bath and drying each other off completely, we wrapped our towels around our waists, not bothering with the silly ritual of clothing that morning. We sat down at my computer and dug into the depths of the Internet, scouring around for information on lubricants, condoms and other accessories, finding more information than we knew what to do with, including some products we didn’t even know existed. It was quite an informative experience.

    Once we knew what products we needed for best results, we had to figure out who the hell was going to buy them for us. I racked my brain as I thought who I could ask to help us out with such a task.

    Suddenly I remembered that the local YMCA offered such materials in their lobby. As odd as I thought it was at the time of discovery, I realized it would save me from the embarrassment and rejection of attempting to acquire them at any drug store. Thus, we were forced to actually put on clothing that morning, much to my discomfort. During the last week, I had become thoroughly accustomed to being naked a large portion of the time that I began feeling uncomfortable while wearing such skin coverings. ‘Blast the insecurities of the church,’ I thought. I disliked how religion made nudity seem wrong and dirty, that your body was not meant be seen by anyone but yourself. I refused to accept that decree. I was by no means a nudist, but lets get real here. Who needs clothes when they’re sleeping? If you want to stay warm, throw on an extra blanket.

    Once we were ready to go, Chris and I took off on two of my bikes, one of which was technically an asset of my brother’s. However, he was 19 and in the Navy, so I was pretty sure he wouldn’t come around asking for it any time soon.

    On we pedaled our bikes to downtown Mason City, parking our bikes on the side of the building, then walking inside and up the stairs to the main floor. We veered off to the TV room, which was conveniently empty at the time, and I saw the table with the condoms and lube. Quickly, I shoveled a half dozen of each into my pockets, Chris doing the same.

    It became apparent we were not quick enough. “Make sure you leave some for everyone else,” one of the employees said from the hallway as he passed the door.

    I turned my head in his direction and met his eyes, which were returning an accepting look. I smiled at him, and then slowly went back to the task at hand, no longer feeling shameful about what I was doing. I looked through the flavored lubes, picked a couple that I knew I’d like, and then made sure we had enough condoms to last us for a while.

    When we finished, we shamelessly walked out of the Y, The staffer winking at me as I left, as if to say “good choice.” He must have known we were together.

    Once back at my house, we dashed to my room, depositing all the little packages to the right hand corner of the bottom drawer of my dresser. My mom never looked in there. I decided, just as a precaution, to throw a couple sweatshirts on top of them. I didn’t want to make my Mom’s job too easy, in the event that she did decide to snoop around.

    We breathed a sigh of relief once the condoms were safely tucked away, and we waited for another hour, when Gary arrived to pick up his son. We immediately asked him if he would allow his son to stay the weekend as well, which he gladly accepted.

    We said our goodbyes for the moment and then I allowed Chris and Gary to take off. I trudged back into the house, already missing my love. I returned to my room, plopping myself on the bed and letting the events of the last week sink in.

    I have a boyfriend. Chris is my boyfriend. I love Chris. For the first time ever, I’ve found someone I love, that loves me back.

    I quickly retrieved one of the packages of lube from the bottom drawer, now sexually worked up, and desiring to “test” the consistency of the materials I would be working with.

    As I slowly began to work myself to release, I reveled in how different the texture of the lube was from everything else I’ve ever tried. It wasn’t as thick, but was a lot more slippery, which magnified the intensity of my self-loving exercise. I knew that I could bring Chris a lot of pleasure with this stuff, and couldn’t wait for my opportunity to try.

    Thursday. One more day until Friday. One more day until the fun would begin.

    Tip: Prepare yourselves for a very intense and romantic interlude in chapter 7

    Comments and/or constructive criticism to bwctadmin@cox.net .

  8. I've pretty much got all the way up to chapter 17 completed, but I'm very much interested in where you'd like to see the characters end up, where you would go with them if it was your story. What would make this story more "real" to you? Reply if you'd like to add suggestions, or email me at bwctadmin@cox.net with any feedback. Thanks!


  9. Love Transcending, aka Boundary Waters Canoe Trip, Ch 5

    Comments and/or constructive criticism to bwctadmin@cox.net .

    Sunday morning signaled the end of our stay at the second camp, so we once again packed our belongings up and continued canoeing on down the lake. It was the warmest day yet, and I even entertained the idea of going for a swim that day, surprisingly enough.

    Chris and I were very talkative that morning, joking and laughing, being the goofballs that everyone knew us to be. Fred and Chuck “encouraged” us to move a little faster, as we lagged behind the group most of the way. We were a little too into ourselves to get all motivated to kick a** paddling across a lake that would rather have us move lazily along, which is what I deduced from the fact that it was adamant about giving us no current whatsoever to help us along.

    Mike and Jason attempted to race Nate and Travis for a while, but we knew it was a lost cause. Nate and Trav were far better at canoeing than Mike and Jason, but that certainly didn’t stop them from trying.

    Nick and his father spent time arguing about who should have been in the bow, and who in the stern positions. Chuck often used his parental authority to make the decision, something that they could have worked out without causing as much drama as they did. Then again, it’s not like my opinion of Chuck was going to change anytime soon, so he might as well play his role. On a more objective note, I don’t imagine the canoe would go any faster with the majority of its weight in the bow anyway.

    Tony and Gene toted Dr Crowe as their passenger that day. They seemed to be having their own adult conversation which we really had no desire to relate to. What 16 year old wants to talk about the electrician business?

    When we stopped for lunch shortly after noon, Travis approached me excited. “Dude, can I please be your canoeing partner this afternoon?”

    “Geez, man,” I really didn’t know how to answer, “I’ve already got Chris. Umm…..Why don’t you go ask him if he doesn’t mind switching with you? It’s really his choice, not mine.”

    “Ok, thanks!” he stumbled over to Chris, their conversation too far away for me to hear. Mumbled hysterics and excited body movements from Travis seemed to be his way of convincing my boyfriend to hand me over for the day. When he started jumping up and down and screamed “Yes,” I pretty much knew that the deal had been sealed. He gave Chris a big hug and ran back over to me. “He said yes! He said yes!”

    “Travis, calm down. If you sink my canoe today I’m gonna kick your a**!” I playfully pushed his shoulder and he laughed and pushed me back. We started wrestling on the ground, and I became worried when I noticed someone getting a little too excited over a supposedly platonic act of goofery. I fought my way to my feet and gently pushed him away. “Ok, Trav, that’s enough.”

    I sauntered back over to Chris to verify that he was cool with the arrangement, and he surprised me with his answer. “It’ll make me even more excited to see you tonight…..” A wink was all I needed to know that he was cool with it and was even planning to “make up for lost time” later that night. I squeezed his shoulder and took my paddle and life jacket over to Travis’ canoe, giving Nate a high five as we passed each other.

    “Take care of my….” I almost faltered, “….Brother.” Yeah, that would work. That’s not suggestive at all.

    “No prob',” Nate answered in his hoarse but sweet prepubescent voice. I hate to say that I never gave him much chance in my “people to screw” list, because he probably deserved to be on it. He had a deep natural skin tone, being of Central American heritage, tight curly hair, well developed muscles from the training of the many sports in which he was involved. Even his eyes were electrifying, his lips sensuous. The damn kid was beautiful, but, he was not for me. I had my one and only and wasn’t going to do anything to jeopardize that.

    After exchanging our personal gear, we took to the water with our new canoeing partners. Chris got a chance to take the bow this time, as I had occupied that position most of the week. I was never good at the “J-stroke” which was the foundation to properly navigating the stern of a canoe. I stayed in the bow and made Travis take stern, the bastard that I was. He didn’t mind though. As soon as there was far enough space between us and neighboring canoes, Travis started asking me tons of questions about Chris and me.

    “So how long have you been in love?” “Have you had sex yet?” “How big is his c***?” “Is he a top or a bottom?”

    “Dude,” I told him, “those questions are WAY too personal…..We didn’t really know about each other until the summer he left. We…..” I paused to let my emotions calm. “We kissed the last night at camp. I didn’t know if it was love or what, but I missed him so much these past few years. I can’t believe he’s moving back up to Mason.”

    “Cool,” Travis responded. “So you want to hear my story?”

    I let Travis open up to me, telling of his first experimentations, to his failed attempts to get Nate to give him a piece of a**, to his coming out to his father and mother. His cousin never treated him the same after that. I don’t even remember his name anymore. He rubbed me the wrong way from day one, and my opinion never changed.

    I learned that day that Travis wasn’t as together as he appeared to be. He may have been a chick magnet, but that was a side effect of his good looks. He wished he wasn’t so popular with the ladies, because a couple guys wouldn’t approach him due to his apparent involvement in the breeder scene. I felt for him, and assured him that he would find the right guy one day. I don’t know if he believed me, but that’s all I really could say to support him.

    Upon arriving at our final campsite for the week, we set up camp and had dinner, then goofed around for a while. Travis, Chris, and I played rummy at the picnic table, while Mike and Jason argued over what the coolest movie of the summer was. Nick and Nate were listening to their CD players, which were supposed to be left behind. No one cared though. It’s not like we were a big touchy feely troop that sat around talking about our feelings. Everyone had their own little cliques within the troop, and that was fine with the leaders, as long as Fred got time to relax and whittle like old geezers do, Tony and Gene talk about life, Chuck and Gary ramble about the validity of the Bible.

    Travis approached us when it grew closer to lights out with a request. “Do you guys think I can bunk in with you two?” He gave me his big puppy dog eyes and desperate look to seal the deal, which I found somewhat insulting.

    He knew what we had planned to do that night, and he wanted in. My first instinct was to say ‘hell no’, but I didn’t want to send him away. I know he had Nate to hang with, but I knew that he had more in common with us, and that talking about his sexuality would help himself as much as it would help us. I agreed, as long as he promised not to try and pull any moves on us.

    Travis giggled and responded, “I promise.”

    We took his word for it and told him to go grab his sleeping bag. He dashed off towards his tent, and came back within seconds, pronouncing “I’m ready.”

    I just shook my head and pushed him inside the tent. He fell on top of his sleeping bag and pack then started laughing. He goofily threw his stuff in the corner and set up his sleeping bag.

    We followed him in, sitting on our own sleeping bag. I saw the disappointment in his eyes to see that he was not a part of our relationship. I could understand, but I would not let this situation get out of hand. Three is a crowd for a relationship, and if he were to manage his way into our lives, things would get heated.

    “Look, Trav,” I explained, “It’s not that we don’t like you, it’s just different. Chris makes me feel awesome in every way I can imagine. He lights up my spirits just by being near me. I like you too and always have, but you’re more like a little brother to me. s**t, we’re almost 3 years apart.” Travis was visibly saddened by the realization that there would be no chance for him to be in a relationship with me or Chris. I hugged him close for a minute and continued. “So, I’ve got a boyfriend. You know what I need though? I need a loyal best friend. I need a brother. Think you could pull that off?”

    “Hell yes!” he answered back. “Now….does being your brother includes any occasional ‘messing around’ perks?”

    I rolled my eyes and shoved his head away with my hand. “You wish….” I slipped into the sleeping bag with my lover, and then we disappeared under the covers for a couple minutes. I put my finger to Chris’ lips and pulled down his underwear, then quickly tore off my own. Lifting the sleeping bag from atop our heads, I saw Travis staring, as I expected, lust and jealousy in his eyes. I knew he wouldn’t do anything now that the rules had been plainly spelled out, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to be part of our intimate pleasures.

    I smiled slyly at Travis and teased him. “You want ‘perks’ do you?” I tossed our undies in his face and said “here. Have fun.”

    Chris and I started laughing hysterically at his perplexed expression, which changed quickly to one of admiration at his own cunning devilry. He put our briefs up to his nose and took a big whiff, then said “ahhhhhhhh.”

    Chris and I both sat up in shock. “Holy s**t!” We looked at each other and laughed, then looked back at our voyeur of a tent mate.

    “Dude,” I said, “that’s just wrong!”

    “So,” he retaliated, “you suck him off every night. This is the same s**t that comes out of him.”

    “Yeah, but still,” Chris added, “that’s just weird.”

    “You’re only pissed that you didn’t think of it first,” was Travis’ attempt to gain back a little respect.

    “No….” Chris retorted, “No, I’m not.”

    We all cracked up in laughter at the conversation. However sick it was, it seemed that Travis never ran out of material. We all settled down shortly after, and Chris and I snuggled up together, warm and content with our naked bodies pressed against each other. I have to admit the nights we slept naked did not rejuvenate us very well, as our erections kept us up half the night.

    At around 2:30 in the morning, I threw the covers back and sat up, Chris following suit. “I can’t sleep with ‘this’,” I pointed to my erection.

    “Neither can I,” my boyfriend agreed. Silently we decided that a quick hand job would suffice. Each of us grabbed each other’s erection and slowly stimulated our partner. I bit my lip to keep from moaning, and had to chastise Chris to keep it down, as well.

    Travis kept quiet, all the while watching us helping each other get off and silently masturbating under the covers of his own sleeping bag. We saw him the whole time, and I even tried to play up our show, rubbing my other hand over Chris’ body, kissing his neck and chest. I knew that Travis would blow his load in a second if I did what I wanted to do, so I decided to hold off on any anal stimulation. Besides, I didn’t know if Chris was ready for that yet.

    Chris and I were humping each other’s fist as we edged closer and closer to orgasm. Once again, I was producing ample precum that night, the white goo trickling down my shaft, gliding over the skin of my testicles, and dripping slowly on the bedding. Chris didn’t seem very productive right then, at least not of precum. I was really close to orgasm at this point, and my hip gyrations began to lose pace. I stopped stimulating Chris, threw my head back and viciously f***** Chris’ soft silky hand. Within twenty seconds I gave birth to a most wonderful orgasm that shook my entire body, blinding me to everything around me but that feeling.

    As I came down from my high feelings, I realized that I was neglecting my lover, who sat there patiently awaiting my assistance. It looked like he was about to take matters into his own hands when I shot up straight, pushed his hand away and went back to work, feverishly working away at his c***. He came in a powerful orgasm which I imagine was as awesome as my own. We sank into the sticky sleeping bag and embraced each other, falling asleep soon after.

    Travis was so kind as to make sure we were covered up, so as to avoid any shocking discoveries in the morning. Well, at least he wasn’t trying to sabotage our relationship. Maybe this whole “friend and brother” deal would work out after all.

    Monday morning came all too soon. Both Chris and I were still pretty tired from our lack of sleep and vigorous sexual activity from the night before. Travis, by contrast, was awake and as chipper as ever, and was dressed and out the door before I even had my glasses on.

    I groaned and stretched my arms. “Last night was great.”

    Chris yawned, “Yep…..I wonder if Travis took any pictures for the scrap book?”

    We both laughed out loud, knowing full well that any pictures of us together would certainly not end up in ANY scrapbook belonging to the troop. Although, as I thought about it, they would make a handy addition to the inside of my pillow case at home, where I could take them out if I was missing my love on a lonely night, of which I hoped there would be none.

    It was the second to last day of our trip, and we planned to cover ¾ of the distance left back to the outfitter. It was no long stretch by any means, as we had worked our butts off the past few days to make our last couple easier. We quickly shoveled our food down our gullets, barely coming up for air, then packed up our gear and got ready to go.

    We left around 9 that morning and canoed until we stopped for a late lunch at two in the afternoon. Around 3:30, we reached our last portage of the trip. It was not the longest portage by far, but we would certainly be glad when it was over. We were excited that this would be our last portage and we trekked from one side to the other in no time flat. We even ran into another boy scout troop on the way, heading in the opposite direction that we were. Pleasantries were exchanged briefly while we kept lugging the equipment across the land bridge.

    We were packed up and canoeing again in no time flat, growing ever closer to our home base. We decided to grab the closest site to the outfitter, and set up camp there for the night. We only had about one mile to go the next day to finish our journey, so this was a perfect place to stop.

    All of us boys were energized that day, goofing around and playing games before, during, and after setting up camp, and we even sat down together after dinner and discussed the good points and bad points of the trip.

    “Good friends,” Travis said.

    “Awesome food,” Nick added.

    “Portaging was fun,” Chris commented. I bonked him on the head and cracked up laughing after hearing such a silly idea. Who in this whole group was crazy enough to like portaging??

    The truth was, we all loved it, and every other second of the trip. I knew that this was something I would hold sacred for the rest of my life. To this day even, I still view that week as the week that I learned to live and to love again. I looked around the fire ring, taking mental pictures of all the people that I shared this awesome week with.

    Chuck: the overly religious but kind-hearted preacher that brought this reunion together

    Gary: the gigantic child.

    Tony: the proud father.

    Fred: the old-fashioned war vet who constantly ragged on us all.

    Tim: the brainy doctor.

    Michael: the clown.

    Jason: the techno-geek.

    Nick: the soft-spoken romantic.

    Nate: the kind-hearted and sexy stud.

    Travis: the affectionate extrovert, who could make anyone feel good.

    Chris: My boyfriend, my lover, my life.

    I knew that once this week was over, the camaraderie we shared in our tight knit group would fade, our friendships would weaken, and we would ultimately move on some day, leaving our childhood friends behind and looking to the future. Knowing the predictable outcome of such friendships, I promised myself that, despite the overwhelming odds, I would keep in contact with this, my family, as long as I had a breath in my body.

    It was another cuddly night for Chris and I. We thought that the amount of time we had left would be spoiled by any sexual activities. Instead we held each other close in bed, savoring each other’s presence, the warmth of our bodies, smell of each others breath, and the infinite depth of our eyes.

    I looked briefly over to Travis, whom we knew needed some comfort. I looked back at Chris to seek his approval for what I was going to say, Chris silently agreeing with my idea.

    “Damn,” I commented, “there’s too much room in this sleeping bag. We could use an extra body to help fill it up.”

    Travis’ eyes lit up like firecrackers, hope burning in his heart that there was still room in our relationship for him. I knew he would most likely take this to mean more than it was, so I made it clear to him before he sat down, that this was an entirely platonic gesture.

    “Travis,” I started, “I don’t want you to take this the wrong way. We like you as a friend and a brother only. I know it’s tough for you and we want to include you in our friendship. But this is where the line is drawn, ok? Don’t try and pull any funny business on us, or you’re out, got it?”

    Travis looked down at his lap. He knew he’d lost the war for inclusion into our relationship. I could see him wipe away a stray tear before he looked up and smiled, saying “I got it,” then quickly scooting in between us and cozying himself inside the sleeping bag. He lay there on his back, shifting his eyes back and forth to Chris and I as we sat on our sides, heads propped up by our elbows, each of us giving him thoughtful stares.

    I was the first to speak. “Trav, I know it’s hard for you and all, but at least you have a couple of good friends you can talk to. You’ll always be my little brother, and whatever I can do to help you through all this relationship stuff, just ask.”

    “And if you need some help finding a boyfriend,” Chris suggested, “I know a lot of girls connected to the gay network in Mason.” He winked at Travis and smiled.

    Travis was visibly less stressed after our short but meaningful conversation, knowing now that he wasn’t alone in the trials and tribulations that lie ahead. He had two advocates and a host of female friends who could help him find a boy that was right for him, teach him how to be careful, and give him support when he needed it most.

    Chris and I beamed with pride at the idea that we had taken a young cub under our wing; a boy that was reaching out for love and compassion. I hoped we could help him get what he needed from us and from whatever boy he connected with in the future.

    Just then, what should have been a fleeting thought popped into my head, and my eyes bugged out. I reached over Travis and whispered into my lover’s ear.

    “You are wicked!” Chris responded to my query. “Ok, I’ll do it. But this is the only time.

    Travis looked between the two of us with a confused expression on his face. “What?”

    I knew it was hypocritical of me to put my sudden idea into play at that moment, but I felt as though this boy needed some kind of incentive to push him outside his comfort zone, something he would have to do in the future. If Chris and I could show him what he’d be missing if he were to just settle with being alone and not even bother looking for a boy to share his love with.

    I hoped he would not take the meaning to be more than just a friendly act, but I wasn’t going to back out right then. He would have known something was up, and bugged us twice as much just to find out what it was, let alone the amount of bugging it would have taken to get us to do it otherwise.

    “We’ve decided,” Chris announced, “that we will be bending the ‘brother’ rules a little tonight. But only for tonight.”

    “What does that mean?” he asked confused.

    “This is what it means,” I responded. I sat up and leaned over him and put a finger to his lips. He froze, his eyes wide open, watching to see what we had planned.

    I started by pulling his white t-shirt out from under the elastic of his boxers, lifting it up towards his head. He silently lifted his arms allowing me to take it off. Chris then grabbed Travis’ boxers and gave them a tug, pulling them down to the boy’s feet. Chris grabbed Travis’ hand and guided it to his own boxers, and Travis happily removed my boyfriend’s boxers, then waited for us to make the next move. He knew we were in control of the situation, and lay still, waiting for the next order.

    I then pulled his hand toward my boxers, and he pulled my own off, then brought his hand to my testicles to cop a feel. I stopped him silently, as a reminder to him that Chris and I were in control of the situation. Then, we pushed Travis onto his back and began caressing his skin from shoulders down, doing our best to light his senses ablaze with pleasure. Chris worked on his nipples for a bit, while I caressed his stomach. Then we moved down to his legs, massaging and tickling his skin gently, all the while making him mad with anticipation.

    We had to remind the boy to try and keep it down a bit, as he started to moan a little louder than he should have. He did his best to bite his tongue, considering the fact that he was having the first sexual experience of his life, with two different boys at once.

    After I felt we had sufficiently tortured him, I guided his right hand to my rigid c***, Chris doing the same to him. He caressed and savored the feeling of another boy’s p**** in his hand, a feeling quite different than his own self-loving activities.

    I knew he wouldn’t last long the first time, so I decided that he would be happier to have me get him off, something he’d secretly wanted for some time, so I looked at Chris for his final approval and, attacked his hard p**** with my hands. I massaged his balls as I quickly stimulated his shaft.

    Travis’ pleasure meter hit the roof fairly quickly, and Chris actually had to cover the boy’s mouth due to his uncontrolled moaning. Within two minutes, Travis was thrusting his pelvis into my hand seconds before he had quite a powerful climax. His body spasmed during and after his ejaculation, a moderate amount of semen was released from his pulsing organ, and he was panting from the overload of feelings erupting from his 14 year old body.

    We let him cool down for a few minutes. Chris grabbed a towel and I gently cleaned him and myself up. There wasn’t much to clean, as he didn’t have much buildup time, but that didn’t lessen the boy’s pleasure any.

    “Wow,” Travis exclaimed. “That was awesome!”

    “Well,” Chris followed, “we wanted to at least break you in a little, so you’ll have some idea about how to please a boy.”

    Travis got a a mischievious grin and asked in response, “can I practice on you guys now?”

    I quickly threw my hands up in defense and replied, “nooooooo I don’t think so.”

    Travis disregarded me once he had my answer, then directed his gleeful stare at Chris, repeating the question.

    Chris got a sorrowful look on his face and reluctantly answered, “Nah, I don’t think so.”

    “Damn,” Travis responded, “you guys are no fun.”

    We looked at the boy incredulously, and I asked, “No fun? What was all that, geometry?”

    “It was really good,” he answered, “but I want more.”

    Chris and I shook our heads and I stated, “kids these days. Never satisfied.”

    Travis giggled and we shoved each other around for a few minutes, but calmed down soon after, when Gary politely instructed us to shut our yappers. I could tell that, though he was happy about the activities, Travis needed a little “patience” pep talk. It was obvious to Chris and I that he wanted love right then and there. Unfortunately for him, and as was the case for Chris and I, sometimes love takes time. We calmed him down from his playful mindset and then sat him down for a little chat.

    I was the first to speak. “Trav, I know it’s hard for you to wait for your dream boy to come along, but at least you have a couple of good friends you can talk to. You’ll always be my little brother, and whatever I can do to help you through all this relationship stuff, just ask.”

    Travis’ face turned down at the mention of his current plight. Though we wished it didn’t have to be that way, we continued.

    “And if you need some help finding a boyfriend,” Chris suggested, “I know a lot of girls connected to the gay network in Mason.” He winked at Travis and smiled.

    “Just remember,” I added to my boyfriend’s words of wisdom, “that this little activity will not become a regular occurrence.”

    “Okay,” Travis answered. “I really hope I can find someone in Mason. Thanks for tonight, guys. I really liked it, and the talk, too.”

    “No problem,” Chris replied. “Now you have a standard for your first boyfriend to exceed.”

    We all laughed at Chris’ joke. The idea that we left him wanting more was rewarding in itself. It would hopefully lower his inhibitions about approaching a boy he was attracted to. Though sex could not make the relationship, willingness to be in such a vulnerable state with someone else took a lot of personal strength; which could help him open up on deeper levels with those he pined over in the future.

    Travis was visibly less stressed after our short but meaningful conversation, knowing now that he wasn’t alone in the trials and tribulations that lie ahead. He had two advocates and a host of female friends who could help him find a boy that was right for him, teach him how to be careful, and give him support when he needed it most.

    Chris and I beamed with pride at the idea that we had taken a young cub under our wing; a boy that was reaching out for love and compassion. I hoped we could help him get what he needed from us and from whatever boy he connected with in the future.

    The three of us wound out of our deep conversation, then just started reminiscing all the fun times of the past week. There we were, on the eve of our last day at Boundary Waters, sharing our perspectives on the trip. I don’t know how long we talked that night, but it didn’t matter. We were high with happiness and anticipation of our impending arrival back into the civilized world, back with the families that missed us so, back in our warm and comfortable beds, forever cherishing the memories we created that week in august of 1997, the summer to remember.

    Comments and/or constructive criticism to bwctadmin@cox.net .

  10. Love Transcending, Chapter 4

    Comments and/or constructive criticism to bwctadmin@cox.net .

    It was Friday, and it was time to move on to our next campsite. Most of the boys had a strenuous day before, out swimming, canoeing around the area, hiking to and from other campsites, or annoying the hell out of our adult leaders, but Chris and I were wide awake and ready to tackle another day of canoeing.

    After the usual awesome breakfast, which Chris and I, as well as the rest of our patrol, cooked for our troop, we cleaned up, packed away our cooking and camping gear, and set off for another day of canoeing.

    This was our first experience with “portaging” ever. A portage was a path from one lake to the next in which we docked our canoes, emptied out all contents, and carried our aluminum canoes through a cut out path to the next lake. We made multiple trips carrying first our green packs and then our canoes over the 100+ yard path, sometimes having to climb up or down hills, due to the varying landscape of each portage. Those of us who were stronger often were designated carriers of the canoes, while the smaller gents would carry the supply packs. Each portage would normally take anywhere from thirty minutes to an hour, depending on how steep the hills were.

    Once we had finished transporting our gear from one end of the portage to the other, we then proceeded to pack everything back in the canoes and continue on through the next lake.

    Everyone was visibly fatigued from our first portaging experience, but I was impressed with the amount of teamwork my fellow scouts and I displayed. Travis and Nate carried at least three canoes over the portage that day, and even still had enough energy to go back and help the weaker scouts lug the rest of the gear over the land bridge. Our adult leaders complimented us, as well, on our swift and thorough job of portaging that morning.

    Though we were significantly drained, we paddled on for a few more hours, stopping for lunch at around 2pm. Chris and I ate quickly, then went back to our canoes to wait. As I lay on the bow, my favorite position, head on the metal frame, Chris shoved us off and paddled to the middle, where he decided to stop, so that we could be alone for a while.

    “How you feelin’?” He asked.

    “Not too bad,” I responded. “From what Tony said, this was gonna be the easiest portage of them all. We got a really long one coming up this afternoon- almost a half mile…..”

    ‘We can do it,” Chris assured me. “I can’t wait till I get you in that tent tonight. We’re gonna have some fun.”

    My eyes perked up. “Oh really? What did you have in mind? You gonna invite Travis in for a threesome?” We laughed together at the thought. Though Travis was a stunning piece of male perfection, he was also hopelessly straight. The only way we could have gotten some action out of him was to get him drunk, which wasn’t going to happen, as we had no alcohol available. ‘Mental note: ask Doug (my brother) to buy me a bottle of Jack Daniel’s for our next campout.’

    “You’ll see, in time….” Chris teased. His lustful eyes told me I was in for a real treat tonight.

    After everyone else was finished eating, relaxing, or goofing around, they all put their canoes to water and joined us, and we continued our journey across the lake.

    One disadvantage to canoeing in a lake is its complete lack of a current. Therefore, if you stopped paddling, you stopped moving. So, we were forced to paddle almost constantly every day to get to our destination. Though, at this point it didn’t really matter. We were used to the long hours canoeing and portaging, that it even became fun at some point. Who would have thought portaging would ever be considered fun?

    We portaged once more that afternoon, over a half mile path. It was hard on everyone, but we managed. Canoeing continued until around four-thirty, when we found our next campsite for the following two nights.

    Setting up camp was second nature to us at that point, so we had it up and going and dinner served by six. The food was awesome, Spaghetti and sauce, bread, and milk, even a dessert. Not one boy went hungry that night. Possibly one morbidly overweight priest of a scoutmaster, but no boys…

    Travis, Nate, and Mike did their hypothermia dance in the frigid waters again that night. Gary, Chris and I watched from the dining fly, laughing as they splashed around, willingly subjecting themselves to near freezing lake water. My pants tented as I gazed over Travis and Nate, their smooth bodies glistening with water, nipples painfully erect from the cold temperatures. Mike couldn’t get me up if he tried. He was overly chubby, deep-voiced and generally obnoxious to be around. Though he could be funny at times, I never liked working with him much.

    Chris smacked my stomach as he noticed my overly long gaze at the two young teen stallions flaunting their bodies unknowingly. “Watch what you’re doing with those eyes,” he whispered to me when I shot him a questioning look. I reached my hand under the table and into his lap, grabbing his hardness, giving it a squeeze.

    “This,” I responded, “is all I’ll ever need.”

    Chris’ smile broadened, and he squeezed my thigh as a gesture of appreciation. We stayed out there for a while longer, relaxing by the glowing brightness of the fire. Shortly after their frigid aquatic experience, the three stooges joined us around the fire circle, draping dry towels over themselves and warming their trembling hands by the radiating heat of our campfire. We talked for a while about this and that, discussing our feelings of the trip to date.

    As much fun as I was having there, I began missing my family, my warm cozy bed, and the comforts that my electronic gadgets gave. It’s a conundrum: to stay here with my awesome friends in this care free environment, or to be home surrounded by the toys of entertainment which often stole the majority of my free time. If it meant that Chris wouldn’t be there, I would have stayed on this trip forever.

    Chris pulled me off to the tent about 9:30, giggling as he guided me. We sat down together and Chris leaned in and kissed me passionately. I was erect almost instantly, my body ready for the night’s activities.

    We slowly undressed each other, taking turns removing an article of clothing until we were sitting in our tents, stark naked and achingly erect. Chris guided my head to the pillow, and positioned himself in the “69” position, pausing to wait for my signal of approval. “Are you ready?” he asked.

    I have been ready for this for two and a half years you fool! “Oh yeah.”

    Chris cupped his right hand under my balls, grasping the shaft with his other hand. He licked up and down my rod, generously coating it with his fluids, then began to take it into his mouth, sucking ever so gently.

    I engulfed his c*** and stimulated it with the same loving energy as he displayed with mine. I loved the taste of his salty-sweet skin, the feel of his balls jiggling about in my hand.

    We simultaneously sucked each other off feverishly. I thoroughly stimulated his mushroom head with my tongue, digging into the small opening of his p****. He continued performing fellatio on me as well; we both were humping each other’s mouths as we edged closer and closer to orgasm. Chris surprised me by inserting his middle finger into my a******. I clamped own on it immediately, and felt a warm wave of pre-orgasmic pleasure to wash over my pelvis. I could feel my precum leaking from my rigid c***, Chris’ ejecting its own pre-orgasmic fluids as well. My rhythm of humping began to change as I felt the pressure build up, and my orgasm took hold, sending several spurts of cum into my lover’s mouth. He willingly swallowed it all up, and continued f****** my face with his hard c***. I loved the feeling of his c*** in my mouth. I felt each pulse of his heartbeat through the skin, smelled the sweet stench of his scent. I increased my sucking as I felt him come close, and he quickly shot his load into my mouth. His face was scrunched up as he came, skin flushed with blood. My angel was on top of the world and I was the one that brought him there.

    We cuddled together there, slowly recovering from a powerful act of love making that we would remember for a long time to come. We were too hot and worked up to sleep inside the sleeping bag that night, so we lazed on top of our comfortable bedding, completely naked, bodies entangled in each other. We didn’t need the warmth of our sleeping bag anyway, for we had the warmth of each other’s love to keep us comfortable through the night.


    There was a rustling outside the tent the next morning, but I was physically unable to shake myself awake enough to realize what was happening. Outside, Travis was unzipping the tent, getting ready to rouse us from our slumber, which had extended past our required wake up time.

    “Let’s go Matt, Chris. It’s time to get…..” His voice trailed off as he popped his head into the tent to see us lying there, still naked, dried cum splattered around our stomachs, morning erections still raging. “….UP….” he finished.

    I opened my eyes to see Trav looking at us surprised, then gazed over at Chris, my lover, as naked and aroused as I. Quickly (though not quickly enough), I realized what was happening and said “s**t!” as I tried to grab something to cover myself up.

    Travis shook himself out of the surprised stare that had his eyes fixated on our naked frames. He turned away, flipped the tent flap back down and apologized. “I’m….I’m sorry guys…..Just hurry up, ok?” He quickly walked away towards the dining fly.

    “Travis, wait!” I called as I feverishly threw my clothes on. Chris was too stunned to know what to do. I looked over at him and tried to assure. “Get dressed, I’ll take care of it.”

    Chris was visibly frightened at what had just occurred. He saw what could potentially be his whole world crashing down in front of himself, and didn’t know what was going to happen. “Oh, man, oh s**t. What are we gonna do?”

    “Shh,” I put a finger to his lips, “I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry babe.” I gave him a quick peck on the lips, finished putting my socks and shoes on, then ran out to find Travis, who was eating his breakfast, sitting by the fire, away from everyone else.

    I approached him cautiously, sitting down across from him, trying not to put myself in harms way if he were to do something rash. “Travis….” I started, but quickly found that the words had left me. I was clueless of what to say. Grasping at straws, I used the famous one-liner, “it’s not what it looked like.”

    “Oh so you weren’t….” he had the decency to continue speaking at a hushed voice, “….naked in bed together?”

    My face flushed and my palms began to sweat. I was so nervous and afraid that Travis would tell our leaders, and that we would be sent home, I to Mason City, and Chris all the way back to Arkansas, neither of us ever seeing each other again. We would be branded as “faggots” to the world and would be treated with such utter disgust that depression, loneliness and fear would follow us wherever we went. “Please don’t tell anyone Travis. I’ll do whatever you want, just don’t get us kicked out of here. I just can’t lose him…..” Probably should have left that last part out, but my fear out-weighed my natural defense to keep my feelings suppressed.

    My worry, however, would unknowingly be getting a temporary reprieve from the situation at hand. Travis sighed and thought deeply over what had just transpired. He seemed to put great thought into the choice of words he was going to use. After an uncomfortably long silence, he responded to the events in front of him.

    “Good choice,” he smirked, “I’ve been eyeing him since he got here.”

    My eyes were wide open, mouth agape at what he just said. Here I was, sitting down with a friend that had just caught me naked in bed with another boy, and he tells me he wished he got there first?? “Excuse me?”

    “Dude, you’ve got good taste,” he reiterated. He winked at me and continued. “Just don’t go blabbing around. I like being a chick magnet.”

    Still surprised at his subtle coming out, I was even more confused than before. “No way, you can’t be.”

    “Am…..” he answered back. “I’ve always felt….wierd around boys. But lately, they’re all I can think about. I was so ready to jump into Chris’ pants….” He stopped when he saw I was visibly upset that he planned to steal away my boyfriend. “But now I guess I’ll have to keep looking…..”

    “Damn right,” I chided. “Touch him and die.”

    “Well s**t,” Travis joked, “Now I don’t want him. God only knows what you gave him.”

    I playfully punched him in the shoulder, and this sent us into a fit of laughs, and I got up and hugged him tight. “Thanks for not going homophobe on me.”

    “Well,” Travis responded, “now I have just as much to lose as you do…..Well, almost as much. Lucky bastard.”

    “I know, thank you,” I pushed him slightly then threw my arm over him and we walked over to where the rest of the troop was gathered, eating like pigs at a trough.

    Chris looked up when he saw us approach, a piece of link sausage hanging out of his mouth in a fairly peculiar way. I looked over at Travis surprised, and we both broke out into laughter.

    Chris scrunched up his face in confusion, giving me his puppy dog eye routine, and asked “what?”

    That just made us laugh harder. Everyone in the troop looked at us as if we were aliens from another planet. How could he NOT realize how suggestive that looked, considering we had just had oral sex the night before? Oh well, it just made him even more adorable, how he could turn me on and not even know it. I’d definitely have to talk to him about “subtlety” later. But, now was not the time. I needed to hurry up and get some food down my gullet before it was time to move on to the next campsite.

    It was a beautiful Saturday, clear skies and crisp, clean air. The trees swayed in the breeze, which unfortunately made it an uncomfortable ride in the boat, until we had some time to warm up. We were supposed to stay another day at that campsite, but figured that if we went further that day, we could take two days off in a row to really relax and kick back. I was all for a day of relaxation with my babe.

    On we continued down the lake, portaging twice that day, one short and easy portage, followed by a much longer one. I could tell that Frank, our oldest leader, was having some trouble getting through it that day. I imagine the cold air got his arthritis up a bit. I nudged Travis to suggest he help carry Frank’s one-man canoe over the portage, which he gladly accepted.

    Nick and Chuck argued briefly over who was going to go in the front. Nick didn’t trust Chuck because last time he was in front, Nick was not warned in time to avoid a large rock which he tripped over and bruised his leg, dropping the canoe and denting it in the process. Chuck scolded him over dropping the canoe, and the two got into a big argument, then things settled down. I just hoped Nick wouldn’t try and pay back his father that day.

    Once all the portaging was done, we loaded the canoes back up, then I sat down on a rock, taking a swig of my canteen and staring out onto the next lake we had to face. Chris came to sit by me, our shoulders barely touching. I could feel his presence there. I had never felt someone ignite a fire inside me from simply being in the vicinity of myself, until Chris crossed my path in life. So much love flowed from within him that I couldn’t help but be turned on. He was my love, my life, my soul mate.

    My mood went sour at the realization that this trip was more than half over. Chris seemed to sense my change and put his arm over my shoulder. Normally this would have been a comfort, but I suddenly pulled away, afraid to get to close. Here I was falling in love with a boy whom I hadn’t seen in two years, igniting a passion that I yearned to feel since the last time I saw him.

    I was afraid once we went back to Mason, our differing school schedules would pull us apart. I was going to be a junior, and Chris a freshman. The only possible ways to get together would be during lunch, gym or study hall. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that gym was out, as at MCHS, freshmen/sophomores had class on alternating days as juniors/seniors. That probably meant that study hall was out as well, as I had it opposite gym. So, the only time left would be lunch, and even then, there are A, B, and C lunch periods, depending on what class you were in at the time fourth period rolls around.

    So, here I was, analyzing the difficult road ahead, while backing away from the love standing in front of me. What is wrong with me? I can’t even enjoy the present, always obsessing about the future.

    “Earth to Matt,” Chris bellowed. “Come in, Matt.”

    I shook my head out of its daydream, refocusing myself on Chris, who stood looking at me concerned.

    “What’s wrong?” Chris asked. “Are you ok?”

    I hesitated, not wanting to get into the details of my depressed mood at that particular time and place. “Can we talk about it later, Chris? I don’t feel so good right now.”

    “Sure,” Chris responded, patting me on the back in an attempt to console me. I shifted my body away from him, and he retaliated with a dirty look, heavy sigh, and then fumingly walked away and started getting ready to continue canoeing.

    All the canoes were set up but ours, and the leaders became agitated that we had stood there doing nothing as long as we did.

    Chuck walked over to me, face visibly upset. “Don’t you think you should get your stuff ready? We’re all waiting for you two to get packed up so we can keep going. We’re on a schedule here, Matthew.”

    I hated when he called me Matthew. It annoyed the hell out of me. No one else but Chuck called me “Matthew” in the last two and a half years. The last thing I needed was for Chuck to go off on a religious tangent, explaining to me the virtues of teamwork and whatever other kind of garbage he could regurgitate in his quest to cut me down to the obedient scout that he wanted me to be. He’d never get his wish.

    “Whatever,” I responded, blowing him off and going over to my canoe to help Chris finish stocking it neatly, then put my life jacket on and pushed off the shore.

    Chris was surprised at my sudden need to hurry up, but knew that he wasn’t going to get anything out of me until later. I decided to try and use my agitation as fuel to keep pushing forward, afraid that if I didn’t find an outlet, Chris would be my next target, which I wanted to avoid at all costs.

    We pressed onward; our canoe in the lead for most of the day’s canoeing. Stopping only for lunch, we made a lot of distance that day. Our next campsite was just as bare as the one before, but our troops skills in setting up had the site up and running in two hours flat, functioning as our base of operations for the next two days. We had dinner that night, some sort of Dinty More stew type stuff. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t the most magnificent meal of the week, by any stretch of the imagination.

    Chris and I stayed close to each other, but kept our conversations superficial, and allowed no physical contact outside the tent, to keep up with the façade that we were just really close friends. We fooled everyone but Travis. I was going to have to keep an eye on him. If he tried to muscle in on my man, he’d go down fast and hard. I doubt that he would betray our friendship like that, but I did have reason to be concerned: it happened on Maury Povich, Sally Jesse Raphael, and Geraldo all the time. Topics like “I cheated on you with your best friend while you were in the next room” made lots of money and perpetuated gay stereotypes for years. No way was I going to let our relationship become a sideshow.

    After dinner and the usual evening activities, we headed to bed to rest up for whatever we were going to do the next day. I really became a fan of the “canoe a day and take a day off” schedule that our middle aged leaders followed religiously. I loved canoeing, don’t get me wrong, but it seemed pointless to just canoe around a boring lake when I could hang by the fire and play cards with Chris, or have deep conversations with Gary, Tony, or Gene. I was never a very athletic person, so things like this took a lot of energy out of me. I needed more time to rest than most of the other boys, who seemed to have one long sugar rush the entire week we were there.

    Chris and I lay in our tent together, not really wanting or knowing what to say to each other. I was afraid that if I was honest with him, I’d bring his mood down. I definitely didn’t want to do that. I could barely stand being so pessimistic myself, there’s no way I would allow myself to bring my lover down there with me.

    Chris was perplexed with the situation. He didn’t know if he said or did something wrong, or if he wasn’t being a good enough friend. I left him in the dark too much that day. I knew it was time to take that weight off his shoulders.

    “I’m sorry, Chris,” I started, “it’s my fault. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m just worried that when we go back to school, we won’t be able to see each other as much. I don’t know if I can stand being away from you. We’ll probably only get to see each other at lunch, and I don’t think I can live with that. I just found you again after two years and I can’t lose you again.”

    “You won’t lose me,” Chris consoled me, tousling my hair. I loved it when he did that. “We’ll just have to spend our nights and weekends together.”

    “But,” I interjected, my pessimism showing in my statement, “what if Dad and Gary find out? They’ll tear us apart for sure! My dad will flip and ground me for life and your dad will keep you from seeing me. I’ll kill myself if I can’t see you.”

    Chris’ heart dropped. There’s no way he was going to let me put myself in that situation. “You better not kill yourself, because I’ll never forgive you.”

    I tried to back-pedal my words. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just…..I don’t know what I’ll do if I can’t see you when I need you.”

    “Don’t worry about that now,” Chris advised me. “We’ll deal with that when it comes up. Let’s just try and enjoy this week. We still have the rest of the trip to be together. Come here.” He opened his arms and we sat up and hugged. I really needed that physical contact right then. He kissed me on the neck lovingly, teasing at my skin with his tongue. His hands held my sides with such care that I didn’t know I was worth all the love and attention he gave me.

    We slept in our clothes that night. I was too depressed to get down and dirty. I felt like it wouldn’t be as enjoyable as our last few nights of intimacy. Plus, I hadn’t showered since Tuesday night, four nights ago. I was rank and I knew it. There was no way I was going to subject Chris to my odoriferous body. We were going to be relaxing tomorrow, so I figured Chris and I could find a private area to bathe then.

    I hoped with all my heart that tomorrow would come and I would have a renewed spirit, and was able to put aside what lie ahead of us in the future, and focus on the present. Any more wallowing and I’d be seriously neglecting my lover. I couldn’t bare to do that, so I put my worries on hold for the time being.

    Once again, the following day was designated as a free day, due to the distance we covered Saturday. If we kept pushing as hard as we were, we would end up surprising the outfitters a day early. No way in hell was I going to willingly give up a day of intimacy with my boyfriend.

    After breakfast, Chris and I snuck off along the shore of the island, trekking through the weeds, bushes, fallen branches, and sticks in order to find a secluded place to bathe. I slung my shower bag over my shoulder, and Chris and I held hands while we walked. It was a very sweet moment for both of us.

    When we stumbled upon an inlet of water we followed it towards the center of the island, where it pooled into a small lake. I dropped my bag to the ground and started to undress, pulling my shirt over my head, then sat on a rock to untie my shoes and pull off my socks. Chris followed suit.

    Thankfully, the awkwardness of being nude in front of each other had dissipated completely. I was comfortable displaying my naked body in front of him. I hoped it aroused him as much as I wanted it to. Once we got home, I planned to really start heating up the relationship.

    Once completely disrobed, we jumped into the water, which was unsurprisingly icy. I could feel goose bumps all over my skin, and noticed Chris’ teeth chattering lightly. We took care of our personal hygiene first. I noticed the night before that we were no longer emitting solely normal teenage body odor. Anyone close enough to us could have picked up the smell of semen on our skin. We washed ourselves quickly but thoroughly, careful not to miss any important areas.

    Knowing how cold my Chris was, I took hold of his torso, placing my hands around his back, and he responded by throwing his over my shoulders. We stared at each other for a moment, then kissed passionately. Amazingly enough, our icy cold privates responded to the stimulation, growing erect in an instant. I felt my hardness press against his as we continued loving each other. Suddenly it didn’t seem quite as cold as it was moments ago. We were growing oblivious to the surroundings, lost in our embrace. We didn’t even notice him approaching us, wearing only his swim shorts, towel draped over his shoulder.

    “Boy you two sure are horny,” Travis commented, sending us apart faster than lightning.

    “Holy s**t!” I exclaimed. “Geez Trav, don’t do that!”

    Travis giggled like a school girl. “It’s a good thing you can’t get pregnant. Wouldn’t THAT cause a controversy?”

    “Shut up Travis,” Chris snapped. “God, I can’t believe you did that.”

    “What can I say?” he answered back. “I’m a sneaky bastard. Guess I brought these trunks for nothing.” He quickly yanked his swimwear down to the ground and jumped in with us, splashing water in our eyes.

    “Once again,” I lectured, “Manners, Trav.”

    “Yeah, yeah,” he responded. “But seriously guys, you better cool it with the PDA’s. You don’t want Chuckles or Frank to get suspicious. I doubt the other leaders would care, most certainly not my father.”

    “He knows?” I questioned with curiosity. I hadn’t even considered coming out to my parents at this point in my life.

    “Yup!” he followed. “He took it really well. He’s even going to PFLAG now.”

    “Wow, that’s awesome,” I commented. “I wish I could do that with my dad. I don’t think he’ll ever accept me for being gay. I’ll be lucky if he doesn’t kick me out of the house.”

    “Same here,” Chris added.

    Silence took over for a few moments, and we all just continued bathing quietly. Once we could no longer stand the icy waters, we quickly climbed out and dried ourselves off. I threw my towel over my shoulders and walked over to my shivering lover, rubbing my hands over the towel, helping to create some warming friction. Chris began doing the same thing, and our recently shriveled genitals began to respond to what we thought was a miniscule amount of stimulation.

    Travis shook his head in disbelief. “You guys are horn dogs.”

    Chris shot back, “You’re just jealous.”

    Travis remained silent for the remainder of our time at the pond.


    After our chillingly refreshing bathing ritual, we had to sit by the fire for quite a while to warm up. We had towels draped over our bare torsos, our arms touching slightly.

    Whatever contact Chris and I could get while still remaining “straight” to the rest of the group kept us from feeling too distant from each other. Though it would have been great to be open with our relationship, society does not make it easy for alternative couples to gain acceptance. So, we were forced to keep our feelings hidden from those we loved, at least until we felt more safe to come out, which I wasn’t planning on doing until I was out of my father’s house.

    The usual nighttime entertainment carried on that night, but most boys steered clear of swimming from then on. It was just too cold to subject yourself, and your manhood, to.

    Travis winked at us as we walked casually toward the tent that night, knowing the type of exercise we would be engaging in. He decided to be a smart-Alec and asked, “You guys need a third?”

    We looked at him incredulously, looked at each other, then turned our heads back to him, simultaneously pronouncing a “Hell no.”

    “Fine,” he responded. “I was planning on interesting Nate in a little ‘experimentation’ anyway. Oh well, your loss.”

    “Dude,” Chris spat, “you are so full of yourself.”

    “I know, ain’t it grand?”

    “Psh,” I responded. And he was the one calling me a horn-dog?

    Chris and I played around for about an hour, each of us releasing our sexual tension from the buildup at the pond earlier in the day. We were happy with our level of intimacy at that point, not needing to go beyond oral stimulation. From what I had heard, anal sex took a lot of preparation and could be quite painful at first, especially without proper lubrication, and we weren’t ready for that yet. Our love making was gentle and sweet, and it was all we needed at this point in our relationship.

    Travis never got in Nate’s pants that night.

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  11. Love Transcending, Chapter 3

    Comments and/or constructive criticism to bwctadmin@cox.net .

    Following our most wonderful night in the cabin, it was the day we were to shove off and begin our journey through the many lakes and rivers Minnesota had to offer. After we got out of bed, dressed and packed our gear, and ate breakfast it was almost time to leave.

    The outfitters supplied us with all the food, utensils, supplies and accessories we would need on our trip. The only items us boys were required to bring were clothes, bedding, and personal items. Once the bags were out, some were designated for food, others for equipment, and the rest for our stuff.

    Chuck, Tony, Fred, and Gene went through our belongings with us to make sure we left any unnecessary items at home, which would otherwise collectively increase the load we would need to carry, and ultimately cause more work for us boys, who would be repeatedly lugging the bags to and from the canoes multiple times daily.

    Once the gear was set, we headed down to the canoe equipment storage shed. Each boy grabbed a paddle that was of appropriate length for his height, as well as a well-fitting life preserver. While the outfitter staff put the canoes to water, we were busy deciding who was going to be canoeing with whom. Nick and his father would be in one, Jason with his father, Tony with Travis, Gary with Gene, and Me with my love, Chris.

    Nate was the pass-around boy, as there were an uneven number of boys to work with the 2 per canoe rule. Since he was the smallest, we figured he would be the best boy to make up the only 3-person canoe we needed that week. Everyone was really excited as we were on the brink of beginning our journey.

    Before we embarked on our jouney, the outfitters discussed with the group which route we were going to take, and we decided to take the shorter route, but spend a couple days in each area along the way, so as to balance out canoeing time with relaxing and recreational time.

    After what seemed like forever, we finally were able to board our canoes and begin our journey through the many lakes of the Boundary Waters, named as such due to their close proximity to the boundary of Canada.

    I was so excited to be with my boy Chris that I didn’t even notice how much work it was to do all the paddling in lakes without a current. We laughed and joked and told stories of what few good moments we had during the years of our separation. It was a most rewarding experience.

    Though it wasn’t the same as living those memories together, I was glad just to hear about his new life in Arkansas. I felt I shouldn’t think ill of his experiences simply because I wasn’t right there with him to enjoy them as well. The past was the past. Most importantly, we were together again, and we were damn sure going to make good use of what time we knew we’d have together.

    We moved as a group steadily for a few miles until lunch time, where we found a nice island in the lake to stop. We boys were hungry as horses. Even though it wasn’t a full day’s work, we weren’t used to the intense effort it took to propel our canoes through current-less waters. We all docked our canoes and started handing out the sandwiches in an orderly fashion, then proceeded to devour them in the most ravenous, ill mannered fashion as we could.

    After that we decided to relax on the shore for a while, the adults wanting to give us boys time to rejuvenate ourselves for the second half of the day. After all the water and juice I drank in the morning, I was ready to let loose all over the place, so I pulled Chris along with me. As we headed into the wilderness enough so we were out of earshot, I started the conversation.

    “Ugh, I can’t stand staring at you all day without wanting to jump your bones!” Chris looked comically shocked at my statement. He pushed me against a nearby tree, pinning my arms against it.

    “Beat ya,” he joked with a sly smile. He brought his lips to mine and we made out for a few minutes, our hands roaming all over each other. If it was a cold afternoon, we had no way of knowing. The heat of our passion was so overwhelming that it could have been winter and we wouldn’t have noticed.

    “Dude, I can’t wait much longer,” I stated desperately, “If I have to kick everyone out of my tent to get you alone tonight, I will. I want to make love to you.”

    Chris’ eyes watered, face blushed. His emotions were overflowing and it made it difficult to speak without his voice cracking. “I love you so much, Matt.”

    “I love you more,” I joked. He chuckled and I caught him off guard, kissing him gently on the nose. “You’re right, I can’t wait either.”

    Chris was wickedly surprised when I slowly slithered down his body to my knees, gently unbuckling his belt and pants, dropping them to the ground. Chris’ hardness was pressing against his boxers, waiting for my oral embrace. I put my fingers between his skin the fabric of his boxers and slid them down to the ground, leaving Chris exposed from the waist down. I stared at his beautiful organ, swelled and ready to burst.

    I was so nervous I was sweating bullets. Here was Chris, my one and only love, in front of me, his hardness pulsing, begging to be relieved. With a quick movement of my lips I engulfed his 5 inch c*** in my mouth, sucking gently, rolling my tongue over his red mushroom-like head.

    Chris was in utter bliss, moaning softly, pushing up his hips to meet my mouth. His wispy pubic hairs tickled my nose on each downward motion of my head. Chris gently held my head, caressing my soft hair. He bit his lip in anticipation as his impending orgasm began to build in his testicles. With every motion of my mouth around his dick, every swirl of my tongue, waves of pleasure swept over Chris’ body. I loved more than anything to please this boy god in front of me. Within another minute, Chris was achingly close to orgasm.

    “Matt…..I’m gonna……I’m…..” Chris moaned as he began releasing pre-orgasmic fluid, which I lapped up with my tongue happily, using it to further lubricate his rigid c***. Chris began humping my face, moaning harder, as I could tell he was on the edge of losing it.

    With one final thrust of his hips, Chris moaned “umph” and released his ejaculate in a most incredibly powerful and quantitative orgasm, several jets of cum I could feel hitting the back of my throat, which I willingly ate up. I didn’t think it was possible, but his ejaculate was even sweeter than his saliva. Once I tasted it, I knew there was no way I could ever love anyone else. Here Chris was, fulfilling my dream of finding love and happiness. There was no way I was going to let him go this time. Not then, not ever. Oh yea, and we were so not done playing around that day, not by a long shot.

    After Chris and I spent some time recovering from our little exercise, we fixed ourselves back up and joined the group, who had finished eating and were just milling about, talking and things. Chris and I stayed pretty close together, talking to Travis and Nate, making jokes and playfully punching each other as typical teenagers do.

    We knew it was getting to be time to keep moving, so we helped the leaders clean up all our food mess, packed up everything that needed packing, and continued on down the river. It was a couple hours before we reached what would ultimately be our stopping point for the next two days. We figured that we could go on day explorations around the lake from here, or just hang out and play cards, do some swimming, or anything else that suited us.

    It took about an hour and a half to set up all the tents, including the dining fly, and stow our gear for the night. After things were settled, Gary directed a couple of the boys to begin preparing the dinner. We were surprised how amply portioned everything was. No scout or adult went hungry that night.

    Once done eating, we sat around the fire for a couple hours shooting the s**t. Travis and Nate decided they wanted to try taking a swim, so they ran into their tents and changed quickly into their trunks, and returned bare-chested and ready to make some waves. Chris and I sat watching the two foolhardy boys freeze their balls off in the cold water. They were visibly shaking but still insisted on having fun. Travis’ nipples looked to be painfully erect, which is probably the opposite of what his young p**** was. I can’t imagine little Travis having fun being drowned in the icy water. I laughed at the thought.

    Chris peered over at me. “What’s so funny?”

    I returned his gaze, smiling back at him. “Nothing.” A wink was all it took to put a smile on my lover’s face. “Wanna have some fun tonight?”

    “Hell yeah,” Chris bellowed in a comically deep voice. He quickly shoved me in the direction of our tent, to which I gladly navigated myself. Once the zipper of the tent was closed, Chris was all over me, kissing my neck, rubbing my chest. I hated to disconnect myself for the minuscule moments it took to yank my shirt off and kick off my pants.

    He then jumped me, sitting on my legs and pinning my arms back above my head. “It’s my turn to pin you.” He continued his oral assault of my face and neck for a minute, then slowly began working his way down my body with his tongue, gently teasing one of my nipples. He continued further, probing my belly button, sanitizing it with his thick saliva. I was more than ready for what was next.

    He roughly untied and removed my shoes and socks. He then shifted to pleasuring my feet, licking each toe until it was slippery with his juices. I had no idea he could be this loving and sensuous. He licked his way up my legs; I shuddered as he stimulated my inner thigh, and just before he reached my genitals, he switched to the bottom of the other leg, where he continued bathing me with his tongue.

    I was squirming around, excited at the contact, my c*** standing proud and ready, balls hanging low and loose, little orbs filled with my seed.

    “Oh god, Chris,” I moaned, “I can’t wait any longer.” His tongue stimulations were driving me mad, and I was even producing precum, something I’ve never done when pleasuring myself. At long last, he attacked my c*** and swallowed it all, working feverishly to get me off, stimulating the head of my dick so much, I was on cloud nine. He loved the taste of my dick, I could tell. Even he was moaning at this point.

    Chris let my c*** slip out of my mouth, then moved to my right testicle, gently caressing it with his tongue, then taking the whole thing into his mouth, sucking lightly, which brought on indescribable new sensations that I will never forget.

    Then, he went to my left testicle. I was producing so much precum that I didn’t know if I was even going to ejaculate at this point. When he thought he’d tortured me enough, and I assure you he did, he finally took my aching p**** into his mouth, sucking hard and bobbing up and down rhythmically. It only took about thirty seconds with his mouth stimulating me that I could not hold it anymore. The buildup started from the lowest part of my testicles, rising up through my organs, and at long last I was at the point of no return. My entire body shook as I reached orgasm, my body was soaked with sweat, muscles twitching, and the pressure in my balls was so achingly powerful that I could not hold it for more than a few seconds, and with a yelp I exploded the most powerful and awesome orgasm I have ever had in my life. Six times I shot my seed into his mouth what must have been the mother load, because Chris barely kept up, and even let a few drops trickle down the side of his lips, which were curled up in a satisfied smile, knowing that he caused such powerful feelings to erupt from my body. He brought his face up to mine and we kissed passionately. I could still taste the leftover ejaculate that had collected in the corner of his lip.

    Chris broke the kiss, but stayed close to my face, staring straight into my eyes. “You taste like cherries….”

    We both giggled at the simile. I thought it was sweet that he found such delight in tasting me. I don’t know why, but I guess Chris was just trying to impress me more or something.

    Chris and I composed ourselves soon after, and spent the rest of the evening in each others arms, wrapped in Chris’ oversized sleeping bag, not sure why he decided to bring THAT along…..I know I wasn’t thinking that far ahead. Luckily Chris was cleverer than I. We snuggled up close and just lost ourselves in the moment.

    Holding him close to my naked body, sharing our body heat, as well as our love was a very comforting experience. Suddenly, I didn’t feel as though any of the problems I had in school in the past two years meant anything. Right there, in that moment, I was free from worry and stress. Being wrapped around my love was a completing social experience that would change my life from that moment on.

    We eventually fell asleep in that same position, content with each other’s presence to keep us warm and comfortable. I didn’t need to dream that night, because my dreams had just come true before my very eyes.

    I was the first to stir the next morning, finding my head still propped lovingly over Chris’ neck. I could smell his scent, the sweet stench of an active teenager. Fortunately, despite our late night activities, my muscles did feel rejuvenated, and I was ready to tackle another day of canoeing with my love.

    “Chris, wake up man”

    “Five more minutes, mommy,” Chris groaned.

    Feeling insulted, I slapped him playfully in the belly, which caused him to gasp suddenly, and then we broke out in a fit of giggles, Chris pushing me back in mock disgust.

    “Go away,” Chris ordered, “I do not wish to see your face today!”

    “Well too bad,” I spat back, “because you have to canoe with me all day long.”

    “Psh, what ever!” Chris responded in an effeminate manner. “Maybe I’ll go spend the day with Travis. I’m sure we could cause some controversy.”

    I pushed him away and scoffed. “If you do that, don’t bother coming back and begging to sleep with me ever again!”

    Chris grinned slyly. “Promise?”

    “Ugh,” I said frustrated with his sarcastic taunting, “get out of here! Go make me breakfast or something.”

    “Yeah,” Chris responded, “Like that’s gonna happen!”

    We broke out in laughter again, pushing each other around playfully until we noticed that our activities were beginning to escalate beyond what we had meant them to be. Our teenage hormones were at it again, getting us into trouble at all hours of the day.

    “Okay, okay, that’s enough,” I had to stop the foreplay before it got any worse. “We need to talk today, after lunch, ok?”

    “Alright babe,” Chris responded, grinning goofily back at me.

    “Breakfast is ready!” called Gary from the dining area. Realizing we were both starving, we threw on our clothes and made our way to the dining fly, sitting down with our group of scouts and leaders, each engaged with their own individual conversations with this boy or that. Breakfast was definitely better than expected, as the supplies given to us by the outfitters were far above adequate, even considering the semi-generous amount of money each boy had to pay to go on this weeklong trip.

    As expected, we stayed around our home campsite, taking small canoeing trips around the area, while leaving our equipment at our “home base.” I remember going out with Dr. Crowe (Jason’s dad) on a canoe to retrieve some water. Tim brought along with him a water purifier, as we couldn’t very well be toting large quantities around like camels. We would paddle ourselves out to the middle of the lake, sink a pail with a rope attached to it until it reached the bottom, pull it up and then proceed to feed it through the purifying apparatus. This kind of intrigued me, as I couldn’t really understand how it all worked, but was happy it did, so as to prevent any of us boys from getting sick and ruining the camping experience for ourselves and others.

    Once I returned from our water retrieval project, Chris confronted me with a request to go off with Travis and Nate for a little day trip. I was a little let down, as I really didn’t want to be too far away from my newfound love…….ever…… But I knew it was important to him, so I agreed. So, as the three havoc-wreaking young teenagers scurried off to do their thing, I hung around with Gary and Gene by the fire, talking about whatever came up.

    After the trio joined the rest of the troop for lunch, I feigned fatigue and pulled Chris off with me to the tent. Once we were secured inside, I plopped down on the ground, Chris gazing down at me. I did my best to look ill in order to gain his sympathies.

    “What’s wrong,” he queried, obviously picking up on my attempt to steal his attention. “Are you sick?”

    Now there’s an interesting question. “Yes. I’m sick of being away from you. Kiss me.”

    “Well,” he replied jokingly, “don’t mind if I do.” Chris brought his lips to mine and we made out for a couple minutes before we had to come up from air. I didn’t think it would ever be possible to be this much in love with someone. I wanted to share everything with him. I couldn’t wait for the moment where we would lose our virginity together. There was no one on this earth whom deserved it more than my love.

    “God, I wish we were home,” I thought out loud. “I want you so bad, but we have to be careful. I think Gene already kinda’ knows about me. I can tell that he doesn’t care, but we can’t take any chances. If that bible toting bastard Chuck finds out, we’ll both be on an express ticket home, that’s for sure. That means I go back to Iowa, and you go back to Arkansas.”

    “No way,” Chris retorted, “I’d never let that happen. I’ll run away if I have to. I’ll do whatever it takes to stay with you, Matt. I love you so much.”

    We embraced lovingly, I kissed his neck, and he grazed his fingers over my chest, the fibers of my shirt tickling my skin as his fingers moved up and down my belly.

    “I love you too, Chris,” I answered back. “I thought I’d lost you two years ago; thought I’d never see you again. I want to shout out to the world my love for you. I know that it’s going to be hard for us, Chris, but I think we can do it together.”

    “I’m not ready to come out yet,” Chris stated. “My dad would be devastated. We’d get kicked out of scouts for sure. I want to so bad, but I think we should take more time to strengthen our relationship first. I want us to be prepared for our coming out. I know a lot of good websites we can check out. Hopefully I can find some places around Mason City when we move out here in October.”

    I thought I had heard wrong. “What did you say?”

    Chris smiled broadly, then straightened his face out. “Oh, you mean I forgot to tell you? Oh yeah, well the old man wants to return to Iowa because the schools down in Arkansas suck, so we’ll be checkin’ out houses next week, after we drive back to Mason.”

    “Shut up!” I said in astonishment. “Dude, how could you hold that from me?”

    Chris gleamed with pride in his sneaky underhandedness. “What can I say, I love watching you squirm.”

    “Oh, you are so dead,” I threatened. Right then I tackled him, pinning him to the ground, and paused for dramatic effect. “Hmm…..now that I’ve got you trapped, what shall I do with you? I know, lets see if you’re still ticklish.” I began feverishly attacking his sides and underarms, sending him into a fit of uncontrollable, child-like giggles. “Now who’s squirming?”

    “OK, OK I give, I give!” Chris conceded, at which point I stopped tickling and laid on my back, being as calm as I was when we first sat down in the tent. “Sadist.”

    “Yes, I’ll have one order, please,” I chided. I grabbed my love in my arms again, hugging his head to my shoulder. “God, I love you.”

    “I love you more….”

    * * * **

    While we stayed back lazily from the group of canoes in front of us, doing an evening run around the lake, I felt I needed to talk further about keeping our secret during this trip. We didn’t need anyone gossiping behind our back, or accusations thrown around, parents called, or items thrown in our direction, so I suggested that we keep our displays of affection limited to the confines of our own tent, which would cut down on the chance of us getting caught.

    Chris was in agreement, but I had a feeling he’d still try and get in what action he could when no one was looking, and I was right. That night, during a campfire session, Travis, Nate, and Mike were sitting across from us, engaged in their own conversation, not really focused on anything else, and they began creating a ruckus with pushing, shoving, and raised voices. Frank, the troop’s resident social security leech, at like…..I dunno 120 years old or something, walked over to them and started ranting and raving about how he’d never be loud and disruptive when he was a kid, or something equally lame. The boys started arguing with the nearly extinct dinosaur which threatened to break up the fun they were having.

    At one point the boys were in a position which they were too centered on the heated debate to notice, and Chris took a chance and pecked me on the lips. I gasped and looked in his direction. He smiled his sly smile, seeing his daring feat cause me to turn a deep shade of crimson in embarrassment.

    I playfully pushed him, then draped my right arm over his shoulders, pulling him in close momentarily, then back to his upright position. I kept my arm there for a good 30 minutes, savoring the only contact that I thought would go unnoticed in a group full of boys. Luckily, no one asked why we seemed so close and mellow together. …..Blind fools…..

    Soon enough it was time to head to bed. The leaders shooed us back to our tents while they continued talking by the fire. Chris and I were more than willing to get inside our tent, zip ourselves in his oversized sleeping bag, and strip each other naked.

    It’s a good thing no one ever saw the inside of our tent, because I hadn’t touched my sleeping bag since we got there. There were two pillows atop Chris’ bedding, something that definitely would have drawn questions.

    As was no surprise to me, we were both painfully erect. The heat we shared in that sleeping bag helped arouse us further, and I pinned Chris down as I had done before, kissing his neck and chest, then slowly began grinding my hardness into his. I began slow at first, and we began to pick up the pace as Chris got into the rhythm. It was an intense feeling of bliss, our teenage organs stimulating each other simultaneously. We were breathing heavily; sweat dripping off my hair and onto Chris’ face. He licked the salty fluids off my face, and continued picking up the pace of his pumping, as did I, until we quickly began approaching the point of no return. I was feverishly humping my boy from above, as he complemented my movements from below. I had to bite my tongue to keep from screaming, and covered Chris’ mouth just in case, as we could no longer hold it in, and came at the same time, our seed mixing together between our sweaty bodies, coating each other with thick ropes of fluid.

    When the orgasm subsided, I collapsed to the side of Chris, draping my arm over his chest, right leg intertwined with his. I gently and quietly cleaned Chris and myself of our sexual release, and we stayed there in silence as I drew small circles around his chest with my fingertips. I figured now that we were calmed down and alone, we should start to get to know each other’s stories.

    Keeping my eyes on his chest, I started. “So, when did you know that you were…..gay?”

    Chris reflected a moment before he spoke softly. “’Bout six months before you came to Iowa. I really didn’t know what to do about it. I felt weird starting a conversation with someone ‘hey, you wanna mess around?’ I didn’t want to get my a** kicked. I had a couple online friends I came out to, and they’ve been pretty cool. They helped me decide that even though I wasn’t sure, I had to be honest with you. I have missed you ever since I left here two years ago. I was too damn chicken to say anything.”

    “Chris, it’s alright,” I comforted him. “I did the same thing.” I paused for a moment in silent reflection. “Wow, I can’t believe you waited two years for me.”

    “Didn’t have much choice,” Chris admitted. “No one likes me down there. They’re always pushin’ me around, calling me a fag and a pussy.” He paused to let a tear drop. “Why do we have to be like this, man?”

    “I don’t know, Chris.” I hugged him close. After a pause I started telling my story. “I first started messing around with my cousin Pete when I was ten, just normal boy experimentation, except I never grew out of it.” I stopped momentarily, hearing a stir from outside. “Did you hear something?” I stuck my head outside the flap of the tent and found an empty campground. I guess my paranoia was on high, due to the private nature of our conversation. I returned to our conversation promptly. “The term gay started hitting home in sixth and seventh grade. I just didn’t like girls. Boys were so much cuter to me. And when I joined up with your troop in Mason, I knew what I wanted for sure. I’ve loved you since the moment we met. You’re my one and only, Chris.”

    Chris became teary eyed, silver droplets of water cascading off his face. My lover was moved by my admission, so much so that his emotions were forced to flow out his body in the only way it knew how.

    “Matt,” Chris responded, “you’re the only one I want in this whole world.”

    We embraced lovingly, and stayed cuddled together through the night, sharing our heat, our presence, our strength and love with each other. There was no way I would ever let Chris go. My soul was his and his mine. We were partners in a long journey that was just beginning, outcome unknown, but with faith that God would carry us through it until we found true happiness and acceptance.

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  12. Love Transcending, Chapter 2

    Please send any comments and/or constructive criticism to bwctadmin@cox.net .

    Upon returning home, life began to return to normal. The summer ended, school resumed, and the Boy Scouts continued on without Gary and Chris.

    Nick's father, Chuck, took over as scoutmaster of the troop. He was a preacher at a church in town. Upon his taking the position, he promptly moved the weekly meeting place to the basement of the church. Other things had changed as well. We now began and ended our weekly meetings with the Lord's Prayer, and we would also attend church at the end of our weekend camping trips. It seemed a little tacky at first, but no one seemed to mind.

    I continued learning more new skills during the meetings and overnight camping trips as time passed. Every time I thought about Chris, I would remember the good things, such as spending time with Chris, and that incredible night, as well as the harsh reality that my love was gone forever.

    In the months that followed, meetings came and went, new Scouts joined the troop, games were played, memories created, and the overall quality of the troop improved. I was surprised that Chuck was able to turn the troop around, and help us earn the respect we deserved.

    I began to take a more active role in the administration of the troop. I had become a senior patrol leader, which is basically the highest-ranking scout in the troop. I planned and ran the meetings and activities throughout the next few months. It was a learning experience for me. I had always liked working with younger kids, teaching them a new skill, or helping them through a problem or difficult task. It is a wonderful thing to know you can affect a young man's life.

    There were a few troubled boys in our troop. They weren't bad kids, they just needed a little extra support. JT was a smart and energetic boy, with a good heart. Unfortunately, he was cursed with attention deficit and hyperactivity disorder. He had trouble concentrating during the meetings, and would often wander away from the group during camping trips. I remember spending extra time with him, sometimes teaching him a new skill which was troubling him, or consoling him when he was feeling left out.

    There were other boys, some comedians, some were the brain's, some the jokers. Some boys seemed to write their own rules, and form new groups. Until you spend time with a group of boys such as those I had the pleasure of knowing, you won't understand how much they appreciate the attention, companionship, and respect they get from a supportive group, such as the Boy Scouts.

    Here I am, on a quest to better the world again. While I was temporarily distracted from my own problems by helping boys in need, things for me continued in a downward spiral.

    You could say that the two years following Chris' grand exit from my life were a very colorful time for me; specifically red, black, blue, and gray. I was often the subject of abuse through the end of eighth grade and on into high school. Mostly, it was just emotional abuse, but that didn't mean I avoided the shoves into lockers, targeting in the gym locker room, or anywhere else.

    Some days I'd sit in class, trying to learn and live, minding my own business, when a few idiots insisted on finding ways to make my life miserable. Throwing spitballs was popular, as well as pencils, or any other object that was big enough to sting, but small enough not to attract the teacher's attention.

    Even when the teachers did notice, they hardly attempted to stall my attackers' behavior. Here I was, a vulnerable young boy, looking to my teachers for help, and they literally turned their backs on me every single day.

    To say it was devastating would be an enormous understatement. Each day that I sat there, wondering if they'd get tired and leave me alone, my spirit would break little by little. I looked to the more compassionate classmates to partner with, and hopefully draw strength from, but not many people wanted to be friends with such a big target.

    It got to a point where I truly dreaded getting up in the morning, was nervous and jittery each day I entered the commons of the middle school, rode home on the bus.

    My parents were useless in aiding my efforts to blockade the slew of abuse thrown at me each day. It got to a point when I simply lied to them, telling them I had a good day, just so they wouldn't be infected with my misery as well.

    Sometimes, I wished that something would happen to someone in school, and I could swoop in just in time to help the victim avoid disaster, and maybe gain some sort of "hero" status that would save me a few weeks of abuse, and maybe even reward me with some complements.

    One day, while I was in the hall between classes, this cute black-haired boy who looked to be an 8th grader was fooling around with a friend as he was walking down the steps, and he looked as though he was going to lose his balance, and I was mentally prepping myself to step in if he actually did lose his balance and take a dive down the stairs. He actually did miss a step and stumble a little, but he recovered fairly easily.

    He and his friends joked about it afterwards, and I mentally smacked myself for even dreaming that I'd have a moment of grace like that in my life. I really hated that those types of tactics seemed to be the only logical ways for me to gain some acceptance in school. If there were better ways, no one ever shared them with me.

    The abuse and subsequent depression really started significantly affecting my life in ninth grade. My grades were faltering, I had no one at school to identify with, and I found no solace at home. I had given up on making friends around then, as it was obvious to me that no one would ever befriend someone as weak and pathetic as me.

    The idea of suicide rarely left my conscious, from the time I got up in the morning to the time I went to sleep at night. Sometimes, even my dreams weren't an escape from the abuse. I was torn between satisfying myself by ending the pain, and pleasing my maker by making the best of it and surviving.

    I can't say that I really ever chose one or the other completely. I was scared I would go to hell if I killed myself, so in a way, I experienced what I called a "living death." I got up, went to school, came home, and went to bed, all without thinking, feeling, or doing much of anything.

    I was put on different drugs for depression during this time, most of which were useless to me. Sometimes, I would go on them for a while, and be relatively stable, then someone would push me past my comfort zone, and I would abruptly stop taking my anti-depressants, which would cause me to careen into a deep canyon of depression caused by withdrawal.

    In a way, I felt more comfortable in such deep depressions. Yes, they were terribly painful, lonely, and distracting from my school and social life. They did, however, provide me with the only constant in my life. No matter what happened, good or bad, I would stay depressed. There were no unexpected surprises which would send me deeper into depression. There were no great days which would bring me back up again, only to slide down the next day. I was depressed, but I was comfortable, secure, and stable in my own world of self-loathing.

    Not many days would go by without me longing for a connection with the boy of my dreams. We wrote letters to each other a couple times, but I felt bad about infecting him with my misery, as that was pretty much all I had to say about my life. It wasn't interesting, it wasn't exciting, it was only bleak and uncertain.

    Most of all, I just didn't want to accept that I'd never see him again. I knew he was gone, but I always held on to the possibility that some day, some way, we'd find each other again.

    I found myself comparing every boy I encountered to Chris, in my quest to fill the void in my heart that his absence created. Most predictably, none of them ever measured up to the high standard he set. Some came close, but I never felt strongly enough about any of them to pursue anything more than friendship. Plus, of course, there was that whole "them being straight" factor. It really threw a wrench in the whole process. I knew I could probably have seduced a couple boys that were "on the fence" over for a little fun, but I didn't want to be one of their regrets one day.

    Well, time continued on until it was about a year and a half since I had seen my beloved Chris. Words cannot express the feelings I felt with him, and without him. I was totally unsuspecting of a plan in the works, one that had been under consideration since Gary and Chris' departure.

    The troop was informed, one Monday night in late 1996 that the leaders wanted to plan a "high adventure trip" for the more experienced scouts in the troop. There were various options given to us as choices: a week-long canoe trek through the boundary waters of northern Minnesota, a couple of extra weekend trips to WSR, Winnebago scout reservation, a local camping ground, and a few other options which weren't important enough to me to remember. The idea of a weeklong canoe trip sounded new and exciting to everyone.

    Thus, the decision had been made, and plans set in motion for the trip to take place from the 19th to the 26th of August. You know, it's interesting that I remembered the exact dates upon which the Trip took place. Maybe it was because I knew that it would be a memorable experience.

    It was going to cost each scout six hundred dollars, so we had a couple fund raisers in the early months of 1997 to help shave some numbers off the total. Some of the real gung-ho scouts, like Travis and Nate, made a killing off their door-to-door candy and popcorn sales, and managed to cut a considerable amount off the total they would have to pay. Jason, being the brain that he was, just gave some boxes to his mother to sell at her office, and he cleaned up as well. I only knocked off about one hundred twenty dollars, much less than the others, but not the lowest amount either, so I felt okay about it.

    As it approached late May, Chuck decided to drop the bombshell, revealing his surprise that Gary and Chris would be joining us on the canoe trip. I was shocked and excited by that wonderful news. In just a month and a half, I would be reunited with the boy that I missed so much. A web of fantasy began to spin in my head; things I would say, things we would do, and memories we would create together.

    I wondered if he remembered the kiss we shared, the comfort and passion, or the feelings they invoked on that gloomy night just over two years before. I replayed that moment in my mind on the worst days of my depression, holding on to that memory as evidence that no matter how bad my life got, no one could ever take that moment away from me. I wasn't sure if our night together meant as much to him as it did to me, and frankly, I was terrified to know the truth.

    Chris and I didn't mention it much in the letters we sent each other for a few months after he moved away. I felt that if I asked him about our night together, I'd push him away. Many kids go through an "experimenting" stage, and I feared he was just experimenting with boys, that it was just a "phase" he'd grow out of, taking my chances of finding love in him with it. That, coupled with his impending departure, leaving his friends behind, and having to start his life over again in a place he hadn't been to in years, was probably too much for him to handle, and he just had to connect with someone. I mean, I really didn't know what he could have seen in me anyway. I was nothing special; just some nerdy kid with a dark cloud over my head.

    I really worked myself up about the meeting which grew ever closer with the day. I hated to do so, but I had no outlet for my frustrations, other than to stew over them and hope that something good would come out of the situation. He was my first real crush, the boy I compared all others to. I even played out a few scenarios in my head ahead of time, as to how I would confront him; how I would find out once and for all if he shared the depth of love that I had for him.

    Each day brought us closer to being re-united; each day brought more butterflies to my stomach. I got so nervous and jittery in school that the teachers had to tell me countless times to stop tapping my fingers on the desk, or grinding my teeth, or biting my fingernails. I was a wreck.

    Surprisingly, I was able to pass all my classes, despite my heavy distractions. As school finished up, and it was approaching late June, we had scheduled a weekend trip to Clear lake, Iowa, a town only nine miles away, to begin learning the skills necessary to be able to perform well on our trip. We learned how to navigate the canoe, which is not as easy as it looks. We also had to refresh our safety precautions and first aid skills, and other such activities. I was enjoying my time out on the water with my friends, on such a warm and sunny day.

    Unfortunately for me and the other fair-skinned boys, it was little too sunny. A lot of us boys had taken off our shirts in the balmy weather, and logic tells us that being shirtless in an aluminum boat on a sunny day can bring severe problems. Logic, however, never won out when pitted against emotion in a teenage mind.

    "Coolness" dictated that when it was hot, and you were working hard at whatever you were doing, you took your shirt off to cool down a little. Well, I'm not quite sure how cool I looked with my flabby stomach, but I didn't do much cooling down that afternoon.

    Several of us returned home with quite a substantial sunburn. I was one of the worst off. I was thoroughly burnt to a crisp on my shoulders, and majority of my back. It was so bad, that blisters the size of half dollars formed on my shoulders. When I got home, I had to see a doctor and get a prescription for the severe sunburn I incurred on that eventful day. To this day, I have suffered a slight sensitivity, and loss of feeling in the skin of my shoulders and upper back.

    Luckily, within a couple of weeks, the burn was gone, and new skin replaced the damaged areas. It was almost time to start our journey. Last-minute preparations included going over packing instructions with the Scouts, making driving arrangements, and other such activities.

    Finally, it was the night before the trip was to begin. My mother, who, bless her heart, is an insufferable nag, harassed me for hours regarding the equipment I was taking. I decided to use my brother's duffel bag, which he had acquired when he was in the Navy. It made me feel cool to have such a bag. Once my equipment was set, I packed it in the car, so I would have one less thing to do in the morning.

    It was a rough night of slumber, for the excitement outweighed my need for sleep. In seven short hours, I would be on my way to the most exciting week of my life.

    As dawn broke, I dragged myself out of bed, and performed my morning ritual, which included a shower, shave, and a thorough flogging of the dolphin. Once that task was taken care of, I dressed in my scout uniform, with my camouflage pants, and waterproof boots. I was ready to do battle with the lakes and rivers we were about to conquer.

    Of course, the actual canoeing wasn't set to begin for two days. But that didn't stop everyone from getting excited. We met at Nate's house, loaded our gear into the trailer, and waited for the rest of the group to arrive.

    As Gary pulled up to the house, having been given a ride by Travis's father, Gene, he and his son exited the car, and walked over to the rest of us. I was a little taken aback by Chris' somewhat dramatic change in appearance. He was obviously in the middle of puberty, having shot up in height, lost every ounce of baby fat, and taken on the traditional look of an awkward teen ravaged by the hormones coursing through his veins. Not to say that I was disappointed, but I missed the youthful glow that his face now lacked.

    I felt bad to think that my first thoughts of him upon our being reunited were negative, but I was definitely glad to see him. He was still the beautiful, charming, and intelligent boy I fell in love with.

    I walked up to him, and greeted him. "Hey, Chris, how ya doin?"

    "Hey man, what's up?" he responded. We both seemed to be a little nervous over this whole meeting, but I couldn't take another moment apart. As I shook his hand, I pulled him in with my other arm, and gave him a hug that I so much wanted to give.

    "I missed you so much..." I wanted to say more, but I felt it best to save that for a time when we could be alone to discuss such private issues as those regarding our feelings for each other.

    Being in Boy Scouts, you have to be very careful with matters concerning sexuality. Some troops apparently don't have problems accepting gay teens, but one never knows until the subject is brought up, which I wasn't planning on doing any time soon.

    I stuck as close to Chris as humanly possible while on the ridiculously long ride from Mason City, Iowa to Duluth, Minnesota, over six hours with the law-abiding citizen type drivers that were our leaders.

    Chris was busy playing with his VirtualBoy, a very low-tech VR device which was "top of the line" in the mid 1990s. It's funny how things so "revolutionary" become dust collectors in less than a year. But of course, it was the craze of the year, so we all took turns playing it. None of us slept during the ride there. We were too excited to sleep. Our car was filled with 6 of the most hyperactive 14-17 year olds with hormones surging so fast through their body that they couldn't even sit still for more than ten seconds. It was a VERY loud ride there. I tried to hang as close to my beloved Chris as I could. His squeaky pubescent voice was so sexy I never wanted him more than at that moment. "No worries," I thought, "there will be time for that."

    After the long ride all the way to the most northern part of Minnesota, we arrived at the canoeing outfitters, which would provide us with all the food, cooking utensils, and other various camping necessities we needed. Once there, our leaders checked us in at the main office, retrieved our cabin assignments, and we split off into groups of four per cabin. Here were the assignments: Me, CHRIS, Travis, and Nate. In the next cabin were Jason, Nick, and Michael in the other one, and the leaders: Chuck, Tony, Gene, Fred, and Tim in another.

    Once we were given our cabins, we unpacked all our gear from the trailer and stowed it in our cabins, then changed for dinner, and we all packed back into the vehicles and found a McDonalds nearby and had our fill.

    Once we teenage food processors finished the plethora of food we ordered, it was time to high-tail it back to camp to get cleaned up, packed, and ready for tomorrow's start.

    All of us were extremely impressed with the accommodations of the outfitter. The rooms were well heated, despite the cool climate of northern Minnesota. Once we gathered up our change of clothes, most of us walked over to the shower building to prepare ourselves for a week of shower-less conditions.

    Chris and I chatted along the way, until we entered the bathrooms, walked to the back room where the showers were, and put our materials down.

    I don't know about Chris, Trav, or Nate, but I was wicked nervous to undress in front of them. Even so, I wasn't about to be called a wuss or anything. So, I decided "f**k it", and started undressing, pulling my shirt over my head, exposing my hairless, but chubby stomach. I eyed the other two, which decided to follow one step behind me the entire way. As I sat down on a bench to untie my shoes and remove my socks, the other three removed their shirts as well. Not that I stared, but I did get a pretty good look at each boy's upper body structure.

    Chris, my love, was pretty short, as he was when I last saw him 2 years before, though he had grown SOME since then, he was thin and skinny. His chest was hairless and very light, evidence of his chronic fear of spending too much time in the sun. He had small nipples that stood erect in the cold night air.

    He continued undressing slowly but steadily, removing his shoes, socks, and shorts, and stopped, waiting for the rest of us, his smooth hairless legs looking luscious, his body smelled of male hormones, the sweet stench of a boy transitioning into a man.

    Travis was the tallest in our group, a regular bean pole. He seemed to have a natural six-pack, and very long legs, which were further revealed as he unclasped his belt, unzipped his pants and tossed them in his locker. His legs were also thin, with light blond peach fuzz covering them evenly. He stood in boxers, waiting for Nate to catch up.

    Nate was the group's smallest member. He was very short, but extremely well built. He wrestled and played other sports in school, so his body was in perfect shape, six-pack and all. I couldn't be sure of his ethnic background, but he did have very tight curly hair, and a medium brown skin that suggested his heritage came from Central America, though I can't be sure. He had thin, hairless legs that were as fit as his upper body.

    I was basically of average height, but not nearly as fit as these other boys. I was quite the pudgy one; my baby fat seemed to stick around for a few years longer than desired. I was by no means fat, but overly plump I guess. Lower body was pretty strong, legs with quite a bit of dark hair on them that gave them the illusion that I was tanned. If it wasn't for that, I'd be as white as a sheet of paper.

    Alas, it was time for us draw the curtains. Nate was the first to shove his boxers down and dash into a stall, fast enough for me to only get a partial view of his development, which contrasted his undersized frame, with clear evidence that he was well into puberty, with dark pubic hair, a good sized flaccid p**** and medium sized low hanging balls.

    As he locked himself in the shower and began to bathe himself, Travis was next to kick off his boxers. I was, once again, not at all surprised with his development. He had a good sized endowment, with medium-large testicles, which hung mid-level behind his flaccid 5 inches. As he turned to the shower stall, his lean dimpled cheeks smiled at us all the way.

    And then there were two...

    I was so completely sick of hiding my sexuality at this point that I was openly staring at Chris, waiting for him to make the first move. Chris returned my seductive stare and slipped his jockeys to the floor, revealing his pride and joy, a 4 inch limp p****, with small-medium sized balls. Though it may have been small, it was magnificent in my eyes. I had waited three years to glimpse this masterpiece that is Chris' body. Here it was, in all its beauty, Chris making no effort to hide his genitals, instead pleading at me with his eyes to reveal my own, which I did soon after.

    I was a little smaller than average, I'd say; about five inches or so, though I never cared enough to measure it. My balls were small-to-medium, with plenty of dark pubic hair surrounding my genitals. I wasn't much to look at, but what I had was definitely enough to get the job done, if there was a job to be done there, which I hoped and prayed there would be soon.

    Both of us broke our stares suddenly and turned towards opposite stalls, each of us enjoying the wonderful pleasure of the hot water trickling down our bodies. I had gotten so worked up seeing my friends naked that once I closed the door to the stall, I popped wood almost instantly. Frankly, I'm surprised little John stayed down as long as he did.

    I let myself relax for a few minutes, thinking about that last day at summer camp two years ago, wondering if it meant as much to Chris as it did to me. I could picture it in my head with sparkling realism, reliving every detail as though it was happening for the first time. Does he still love me? Did he ever love me in the first place, or was that just the result of overactive hormones? God I wished it was real. I wished with all my heart that I could find that love we lost so long ago.

    As soon as I got comfortable in the warm shower, I put my right arm up against the wall and leant my head onto it, closing my eyes and picturing my friends and my love Chris, naked, exposed, shouting to the world their developing sexual maturity. I wrapped my hand around my rigid c*** and slowly stimulated myself to a powerful climax, spilling my load onto the shower wall.

    As I recovered from my blissful moment, I heard a cough from behind me, which startled me, causing me to spin on my right heel dramatically, catching Chris staring at me intrigued. I immediately turned my back to him and sat down with my back to the door, embarrassed at being caught by the one boy whom I felt the most incredible feelings for.

    Little did I know that Chris wasn't just spying on me while I pleasured myself, but rather masturbating while gazing at me from across the room. Chris knew that I was checking him out, and was just waiting for the right time to make a move. I was excited and nervous at the same time. I had yet to have a sexual experience, so I was pretty ignorant as to how to go about finding the right moment, but I knew that in the shower house, with two hopelessly straight boys showering as well, this was neither the time nor the place for any further sexual activities. We would find the time, I knew it...

    After getting out of the showers, drying off and dressing, the four of us walked back to our cabin and began setting up our bedding to go to sleep. Trav and Nate were on one side of the room, Nate on the top bunk, and Chris and I were on the other side. I decided to sleep on the bottom bunk, with Chris above me. Besides, in my mind we weren't going to be in separate beds for long...

    The four of us chatted about our excitement to beginning our journey around the Boundary Waters of northern Minnesota tomorrow, who we wanted to canoe with, what we would do at nights when we weren't canoeing, and other various topics until fatigue finally hit us all. Trav and Nate were the first to knock off; Nate's light snoring was almost melodic, setting a peaceful mood to the air.

    I lay on my bed with my head propped up by my hand, staring at the bed above me. I tried to clear my mind and fall asleep but Chris was all I could think about, the vision of his beautiful body imprinted in my mind for all eternity. I was almost startled back to reality when Chris popped his head down from the bunk, looking at me upside down.

    "I can't sleep, can I sit with you for a bit?" he asked.

    Umm lemme think...Duh!

    "Sure, man, hop on down."

    Chris climbed down the ladder of the bunk and I sat up to make room for him. We sat with our backs to the wall of the cabin, at first not making any eye contact. I still felt as though what happened in the shower was not real, just a product of my overactive imagination, however I was about to be proved completely wrong.

    "About earlier," Chris started, "I'm sorry I caught you...you know.

    I didn't mean to..." His voice quieted down to a whisper by the end of the sentence.

    "It's ok, man," I quickly responded to help ease his anxiety.

    Chris stayed silent for about a minute, before he began again. "Who were you thinking about?"

    Who do you think, fool?

    "No one really," I replied. You lying sack of s**t.

    "Oh," Chris responded, sounding disappointed. After a pause, he continued. "I...I was doing it too..." he meekly admitted.

    "I know," I stated in a nonchalant manner. I was both hoping and dreading the direction in which this conversation seemed to be going. But I figured if this is the way it's meant to be, I better not do anything to f**k it up.

    "Matt, can I tell you something?" Chris asked meekly.

    "Sure," I responded, my mouth dry and palms sweating with nervous tension. This was it. This is where it was all going to come out.

    Chris gazed in my eyes for a few seconds, his awesome blue eyes communicating the intense love he held for me in his heart. We knew that nothing needed to be said. This was the moment when we knew for sure that we loved each other deeply. This love, this infinitely deep love, was much more powerful than a simple friendship. I was head over heels for this teenage Adonis, and he was madly in love with me.

    I took his hand in mine, squeezing gently, reassuring him, giving him the strength to take the next step. Chris pursed his lips, cocked his head to the right, and moved ever so slowly towards my lips, eyes closing a mere millimeter before our lips made contact with a lightning bolt so powerful that my heart raced, breathing sped up, and a hot tingly feeling rushed over my body, electrifying every nerve with intense pleasure the likes of which I hadn't felt for over two years.

    His lips tasted as sweet, I loved the aroma of his body, the closeness and warmth our bodies shared. I placed my left hand on his side, touching his bare skin, so soft and silky; my right reached up and held his cheek, as I attempted to slip my tongue past his lips, which he graciously parted for me, revealing even more of his delicious candied mouth. I savored the succulent flavor of his saliva, while exploring as much of his mouth with my tongue as possible.

    I broke the kiss, gazed at Chris with a mock confused look, and asked, "So, you're saying you still love me?"

    Chris and I giggled at my sarcasm, and then we settled into a deeper level of emotion. I felt Chris project his love for me through his eyes, and did my best to do the same. We brought our lips together again and returned to our passionate kissing, using our hands to lovingly caress each other's bodies while we made love with our mouths.

    I was so emotionally driven at this point that I barely knew what was happening. My entire reality was the kiss, the touch, the moment. But suddenly, it wasn't enough. I needed more. I brought both my hands down to his side, gently guiding his smooth body to the mattress. There he lay on his back, waiting eagerly for whatever I had planned...

    What did I have planned???? I have no idea, but I seemed to be doing damn good at this point.

    I continued making out with Chris, my most valued dream coming true right before my eyes. My hands ran themselves over his torso, fingertips grazing his erect nipples. As I began kissing his neck lovingly, Chris began grinding his groin into mine. As if it were even possible, my bliss jumped ten levels, to a point where I knew I would be messing up my pants within minutes. I gently ground myself into his hardness in reciprocation, ever so lightly. The pleasure continued to build as the heat of our encounter enveloped us in a shield of warmth.

    As my orgasm grew frightfully close, I knew we needed to slow down, fast. Not that I wanted to stop, far from it. But we were beginning to moan softly, and since we were not alone, I was not going to let this situation progress any further. The Boy Scout environment is so unpredictable in the way each troop deals with homosexuality, that it could have been very dangerous for us to be caught in an awkward situation. Gently I stopped my hip gyrations and pulled my lips off my newfound love.

    "We need to slow down," I whispered. "I don't want us to get caught."

    "Aww..." Chris sighed, "It was just getting good."

    "I know, baby." Baby? "But we've got plenty of time for this. Let's take it slowly and carefully."

    Chris sighed. "Ok, but I don't know how I'm gonna get to sleep tonight with this," Chris motioned towards his erection.

    "Save it for later, sexy" sexy? Where was this coming from?

    We hugged for a little longer, and then Chris gave me a kiss on the cheek, smiled at me, then climbed back to the top bunk and settled back under his sheets. I did the same, laying there still reeling from the new emotions I had felt that day.

    I knew that tomorrow was going to be an eventful day. I had a million questions to ask Chris, as I'm sure he had just as many to ask me. Until Chris came back into my life, I had given up to the idea of finding a boyfriend and being happy. I was a Prozac-lifer with no chance of parole.

    Everything changed at that moment, the moment Chris and I were joined at the lips in the most tender, loving show of affection that we knew of, a re-confirmation of the love we felt so long ago, and had held inside us for two long years.

    This was going to be an AWESOME week...

    Comments and/or constructive criticism to bwctadmin@cox.net .

  13. Talonrider, you made my day when you set this forum up for me. I am so happy to have a place to completely control the submission of my story. I had hoped to one day have a forum set up, so that i could edit, delete, or change things at will w/o having to go thru a third party to complete a task, which would undoubtedly take a lot longer to accomplish. You rock, man.



  14. Love Transcending, Ch 1

    Formerly Known as Boundary Waters Canoe Trip- Uncensored Version

    Copyright 2004-2006.

    All rights reserved. No part of this story may be used or reproduced by any means, without the written permission of the publisher.

    This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

    This story involves relationships between underage boys. If you are under the age of 18, or it is illegal to view this type of material in your country, or are otherwise prohibited to do so, read no further.

    Update 4/16/06: I know it's been forever since BWCT was updated, so I'm re-posting the original 7 chapters to allow you to re-acquaint yourselves with the story. Also, I've renamed the story to the above title, as it is more inspiring to me than the former. If you've read the story before, you will notice that some name changes have occurred, to protect the character's identities, which should have been done originally, as well as a lot more detail that i should have gone into originally. That's all for now.

    Comments and/or constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated. Send any responses to bwctadmin@cox.net

    As my parents drove me to a new Boy Scout troop on the third Monday in November, I didn't know how I was going to like it. I was nervous and jittery. I had butterflies in my stomach. To be honest, I didn't think this troop would be able to top the one I was coming out of.

    Let me rewind a little bit. One night in the late summer of 1994, as I came downstairs from my second floor bedroom for an after-dinner treat, I overheard my parents talking about my father's job. The printing company he worked for had divisions all over the United States, Hammonton, New Jersey being the one he currently worked at. He had already been transferred three times in the past: from Connecticut to Illinois, from there to Kansas, and from Kansas to New Jersey. Thus, I was not surprised to learn that he was once again being transferred, this time to a town unknown to me, by the name of Mason City.

    After overhearing that juicy bit of information, I quietly crept back up to my room and dug out an atlas, to see just where this "Mason City" was. Upon researching, I discovered there were two such cities in the country, one being in Illinois, the other in Iowa. To be honest, I didn't care which state the town was in, as long as it wasn't New Jersey.

    My heart leapt at the thought that I would finally be leaving New Jersey forever, kissing the stuck up Italians and disrespectful Puerto Ricans of that small town goodbye forever. Don't get me wrong, I was not the racist type; however, I had good reasons to despise those I encountered in Hammonton.

    Most of my classmates had a large portion of their relatives living in that same town, or very close by. Thus, those of us who did not have native ties to the town felt set apart from the rest. Every day for six years, I was constantly reminded that I just didn't fit in there, and it was hell from start to finish.

    The prospects of moving to a new state, attending a new school, and having a fresh start were the answer to my prayers. My life in New Jersey, a life of humiliation, shame, and abuse, was hell from moment one, and lasted six excruciatingly long years. I had once given up on the possibility that one day, we would move away from my personal hell, but at long last the end of my imprisonment was finally in sight.

    I was completely in favor of moving, not only because it would give my father a bump in position and pay, but because there was nothing for me in New Jersey. I had no friends, no real life to tie me down.

    Unfortunately, leaving that hell hole had one great negative amidst a sea of positives. I would have to say goodbye to Boy Scout Troop 86, a troop I had been in since cub scouts, over 4 years prior.

    We had a blast every night we met, as well as during camping trips and summer camp. The kids were pretty off the wall: some were amateur comics, some trouble makers and aspiring criminals, and some nerds. I felt most comfortable with the smart kids, as I wasn't too great about "letting loose and having fun," something that I had lost interest in two years earlier. It kept me a certain distance away from some of the most interesting boys, but I was still able to be friends with them to a point.

    My social anxiety was not without cause. That year was an especially trying time for me, as I was just then coming to the realization that my feelings toward other boys weren't just a passing phase. I knew I was missing out by not trying harder to overcome my social handicap, but at the time I had no useful coping skills, and it was hard to be around certain boys without feeling a depressing sense of longing and desire, which I knew would never be fulfilled.

    I contemplated quitting Boy Scouts altogether, simply because I wondered if it was even possible that any troop could lead me to experiences as fun and exciting as those I had in troop 86.

    Regardless of my disappointment surrounding my withdrawal from the troop, I made peace with the idea that I would find just as great a troop out in Iowa, and would make new friends and create a whole new book of memories to cherish.

    The rest of the Harris clan, my older brother and sister, was devastated upon reception of the news. Doug Jr was just into his senior year of high school, Janelle just starting her freshman year. Emotions ran high and several items were broken in my siblings' battle to stop the inevitable from happening, but in the end, they lost. My father wasn't about to halt his career advancement to settle the nerves of his prima Donna daughter and law-breaking son.

    Many preparations were made in the months that followed "the announcement." We flew out to Iowa in late august to look at houses in the area. We saw a few but were not impressed, until we gazed upon a 1-story ranch with a lot of potential. The entire family was pleased with the accommodations. The house was small, but it sat on an overly large piece of land considering the size of the house. There was a huge front yard and an even larger back yard, with a stream 50 yards down signaling the end of the property.

    Inside the house lay a small kitchen/dining room with a connecting half-bath, large living room, a tight-quartered but manageable full bathroom, and three bedrooms.

    I immediately staked out my bedroom. It was actually the largest bedroom in the house. On the downside, it was designed as a young school-aged boy's bedroom, with built in desks and bulletin boards. It was a little pre-teeny but I knew that I could make it my own with a little work.

    My brother and sister also claimed their new domiciles, my sister figuring how much room she had to stow her junk, my brother looking for ways to hide his smoking, drinking, and drug use in the basement bedroom.

    As if my parents had any choice, they decided to purchase the house, and began the long and tiresome process of setting up a mortgage and the like. The weeks seemed to drag on for me, as I was more than tired of living in New Jersey, and very eager to get a change of environment. We set our moving date to the first week in November, 1994. That meant, unfortunately, that my seventh grade year would be broken almost in half at two different schools.

    And so began another hellish few months at Hammonton Middle School in wonderful Hammonton, New Jersey. It was pretty rough for me, emotionally and physically. As I started breaking the news to what FEW friends I had there, word spread around and almost every one of the bullies in my grade made sure to give me my share of harassment before I left for good. I was constantly being called a fag, a loser, and other equally vulgar epithets.

    Being pushed into lockers was a daily occurrence at that point. I even got so upset at one point with something one of my enemies did to me that I tried to fight back, and got sent to detention the last week that I was to attend Hammonton Hell School. I remember spending those boring days sitting quietly in detention, watching the clock tick ever so slowly, eagerly awaiting my last day. I suppose it was just as well; that was three days less that I would be available to the school bullies to harass and intimidate me.

    As the bell rang on the last Tuesday in October, my final day at HMS, signaling my release from detention, I rushed home and started helping make sure all my stuff was properly packed, checking if I left anything behind, and learning about the route we would be taking from there to our new home in Iowa.

    We pre-packed most of our personal belongings before the movers showed up, labeling the boxes we intended for the movers to take, and leaving a small amount of gear out, packed in suitcases, which we would live out of during the trek to Iowa.

    Monday, we secured all that was of our belongings after the movers had finished packing up the house, and slept at the Holiday Inn, deciding to begin our trek in the morning. That was one thing I loved about traveling: the hotels. Nothing was more exciting than spending time playing around in the pool, relaxing in a hot tub, or lazing around in the sauna. I loved the idea that I got to experience an unscheduled "fall break" while other kids were stuck in school, listening to their teachers drone on about things that were virtually meaningless to 13- and 14-year olds.

    We had our share of good hotels in the three days it took to drive to Iowa. We could have made it in two days, but my father didn't push it, since he didn't want his kids sleeping in the car all night. I was glad we paced ourselves and took time to sleep in real beds. I used the extra time to relax and imagine what my new life would be like in Iowa.

    Upon arrival on Thursday at our new home in Mason City, we discovered that the house was not quite ready to move into, and therefore spent another two nights at a Holiday Inn. To be honest, I was becoming tired of fast food and cramped quarters, so I hoped the moving company would arrive soon.

    Friday morning, the movers arrived, and we immediately began unpacking the boxes as the movers brought them in. It was fun to decorate a brand new bedroom, deciding where a good place was for this, where I would put that, and deciding how I wanted my living space to communicate to me. I loved having almost two weeks off from school in this whole "settling in" process. There's nothing like an unscheduled vacation to revitalize the spirit.

    Knowing how hectic it would have been to send us kids off to school during unpacking week, we escaped another week of school to help out at home.

    On Friday following the movers' arrival, my mother reluctantly informed us kids that it was time to go look for new schools, so I went with my mother to Roosevelt Middle school in the most embarrassing vehicle known to man: the station wagon…….white, no less! Talk about social suicide! Anyway, my brother Douglas Jr (17) and sister, Janelle (15) made their way to Mason City High in my father's beloved '87 Camaro…..Lucky bastards.

    The weeks went on, and once we were settled, my father began inquiring about Boy Scout troops in the area. It was recommended by people he knew that I might like troop 41. They were a smaller group, which can be bad in terms of its exposure to more activities, but good in that the leaders could give more personal attention to each scout.

    So there I sat, in my father's Camaro, wondering if I shouldn't just give up scouting, just the same as I had done with playing the saxophone. I didn't have much time to debate both sides of the issue, as we quickly arrived at the designated meeting place.

    My father and I entered the building and followed the voices of young boys through the hallways until we arrived at the meeting room. I immediately ditched my father, to introduce myself to the other scouts, while my father talked to the scoutmaster.

    I really didn't get a good impression from the troop in the beginning. They met at the local chapter of the Knights of Columbus, in what was a small lounge area across the hall from the main banquet room. The scoutmaster was a man named Gary. He was a little less than middle aged, with brown hair and a mustache. He was a goofy guy at times. His son, Chris, was a member of the troop. There were just a few boys, but each of them seemed to fit well together as a group:

    There was Jason, the brain. He was a fairly nerdy lad, complete with frizzy hair and a geeky voice, but he was cool to listen to and have around. I came to learn a lot about computer assembly and maintenance in the proceeding years.

    Travis.....Wow, what can I say.....He was a preteen God. Tall and slender he stood, with a handsome face, and glasses that seemed to reinforce my perception that he was smart, funny, and an all-around nice guy. You can bet my eyes followed him around a lot.

    Nate was the clown. He was a short boy, with brown curly hair, with a medium complexion, one consistent with his Latin heritage. He was very amusing, and fun to be around. Nate and I spent a lot of time joking around at the meetings, which we knew we shouldn't have been doing, but that never stopped us. His father, Tony, was an assistant scoutmaster in the troop. I liked him a lot. He was a very nice man, and fun to joke around with.

    Then there was Nick: Son of a preacher man. Yep. He was quite a large lad, though quiet and soft spoken. He was very intelligent and witty at times. He wore thick glasses with quite a cheap and ugly frame, if I do say so myself.

    And how could I forget Chris? I never believed in the old saying "good things come in small packages" until I discovered Chris. He was a very handsome boy; about 12 years old at the time. He had yet to hit his growth spurt, so he was quite immature physically. He still retained his adolescent frame, had a little bit of baby fat left. It didn't matter though.

    His personality was bright and magnetic. His face was alive with a glow that I had never seen before. He seemed very down-to-earth, very "real." He never appeared to be "putting on a show" for anyone, instead living his life by his rules. I had never met a boy with such an electric vibe about him.

    In my eyes, he was delicious. Everything about him was perfect. He wasn't the typical Adonis, but he had such an alluring presence that I just couldn't get enough of him. I inserted myself as closely into his life as I could as I got to know him. Something about being around him just made me feel good to be his friend. He made me feel good about being myself, something I had trained myself not to do in the past. I found myself questioning the entire foundation upon which my self-image was based, as I discovered how well I treated others; those who actually desired to see me for who I was.

    Chris' friendship invoked feelings which I had never known before, those I wished not to know in the past, and those I hoped I would one day come to experience.

    Though I had known quite certainly of my attraction to boys, I had not developed my first infatuation until I met Chris. He was my first crush, and, I hoped, he would one day be my first love. I spent many a day checking him out when his back was turned, wishing silently that he and I could get into some trouble together.

    Though I knew then what I wanted, my damaged self-esteem kept me that small distance away from confronting Chris and myself about the feelings burning inside of me. I felt as though I had nothing to be desired by anyone, no reason to be loved. I wished the abuse I suffered over the years wasn't taking such a toll on me, but I truly felt as if the continuous reliving of those bad experiences was completely out of my control. I was broken, out of touch with myself, damaged goods.

    It was difficult some days, when Chris and I were together on a camping trip, or at a scout meeting. Though he did make me feel better about myself, I still refused to consider the possibility that I would ever be good enough to be his boyfriend, assuming he was actually gay, of course. Thus, for those few short months we spent together, I denied my nature and kept my developing love for him a secret.

    Gary ran the troop for a few months after my arrival in Iowa, but things were not going well overall. The guy tried his best, and we did do some cool stuff, but it still was never a great troop. We just couldn't seem to attract large numbers of new scouts to our troop, as there were several other well-established ones in town. Regardless of our inability to strengthen the enrollment, Gary did his best to give us 6 boys the same experiences enjoyed by the larger troops in town.

    It was at summer camp, I found out, that Gary and Chris would be moving to Arkansas at the end of the summer. I was very saddened to see Gary, a (mediocre) scoutmaster, and my crush Christopher, leave my life for what I thought would be forever. Oh how I wished I could have kissed his cherry lips just once, taste his sweet breath and run my hands along his smooth body.... But, I soon realized it was not meant to be.

    On the last night of camp, we had a traditional camp wide bonfire, complete with comedy skits and classic camp songs. It was a most enjoyable occasion for all who participated, as well as those being entertained. ALMOST everyone went back to their camp happy that night. I could tell that Chris was saddened that his life would soon be disrupted, his friends left behind, and he would have to begin his new life in Arkansas. I, too, was uncertain how I would cope with his absence. If nothing else, he was a great companion when I had so few.

    I caught up with Chris as we were entering our campsite. Now, I'm not the bravest person in the world, but I needed to say goodbye, and do what I could to comfort the boy that I was now completely sure I was head-over-heels in love with. "Hey Chris, you wanna bunk in with me tonight?"

    Chris' expression remained dark. He sighed and responded, "No, that's ok. I'm just going to sleep by myself tonight. I don't feel like being with anyone else right now.

    It was breaking my heart to see Chris in such a state, and I came over and threw my arm over his shoulder, gave him a sideways glance and gave it another go. "Come on, please? How about we stay up all night and play rummy? Just you and me. Sound good?"

    Though I was almost certain he was going to turn me down, a gloomy Chris soon lit up with joy. "Sure! Just let me go get my stuff!"

    I smiled to myself as he skipped off toward his tent, coming back moments later with two armfuls of gear.

    Chris and I dashed over to my tent, which, lucky for me, held a vacancy. He trudged into the tent with his sleeping bag slung over one shoulder, dragging along the ground as he walked, and a gym bag with his clothes.

    "Make yourself at home," I welcomed my guest.

    He threw his open gym bag into the corner and it promptly exploded, its cotton contents spilling out all over the corner of the tent. "Thanks," he replied. We both burst out laughing, then quickly quieted down.

    There was a moment of awkward silence between us. Neither of us knew where to take the rest of the night. Well, I did, but I wasn't sure Chris would go for something THAT x-rated.

    "So…." Chris sighed. "What you wanna do?"

    I knew it was a bold move to even suggest it, but I was dying to get a look at him in his skivvies, so I replied "Well, first thing's first. I'm sweating like a pig in these clothes." I began to undo my shoes one by one, throwing them in the corner of the tent, and then stripping off my rank smelling socks and throwing them in a bag.

    Chris hesitated, but soon followed suit. I continued ripping off my outerwear until I was in just a pair of cotton boxers. I didn't normally wear boxers, however it is a bit embarrassing wearing underwear on a camping trip where other boys would see me. Briefs left nothing to the imagination, and I feared such embarrassment, especially at my insecure age of fourteen.

    I hoped he wouldn't find it strange for me to strip down to almost nothing, but frankly I had good reason. It was still over eighty degrees out, and the humidity was so high you could cut it with a knife. And after all, Travis and Nathan paraded around scantily clothed all the time, and no one thought them odd.

    Chris took more time getting undressed, as he was quite bashful. After spending an inordinate amount of time fiddling with his shoelaces and taking off his socks, He finally lifted his shirt over his head, and I got the first close-up of his upper body. He was kind of stocky, but not in an unhealthy way. His chest and stomach were smooth and hairless. His pink nipples were erect, probably due to the rapidly chilling night, I thought, despite the warm day it had been. He looked away from my face as he quickly removed his pants and slipped under his sleeping bag. DRAT!

    "So, wanna play a game?" I suggested.

    "Nah, I'm not feelin' too well," Chris shrugged. He was such a gloomy Gus it was breaking my heart.

    I have always been a good-natured person, and it was tearing me up to see him like that. Uncertain if he was ready to accept a hand of comfort, I looked down at my lap and replied, "Don't worry, Chris. You'll make new friends down in Arkansas."

    "It's not the same!" he exclaimed. His face was flushed and his eyes watering. "I don't want to leave! It's not fair."

    "I know bud," I attempted to console my friend. "Please don't cry." I dug up some courage and brought my hand to his soft cheek, wiping away the tear with my thumb.

    Chris was a bit startled by the contact, then his face softened from fear to relief. He lurched forward and wrapped his arms around my shoulders, pulling me tight into him as he cried. I whispered soothing words to him as he cried himself out.

    After a few minutes, we separated, then quietly lay down in our sleeping bags, facing each other. We were ENTIRELY too close for two boys to be on a hot summer night. Our faces were inches apart. I began to feel like this was my only chance; my one defining moment. I needed it, and I thought he did too. I reached my hand over to his face, softly caressing his cheek. His eyes were alive with a sparkle I had never seen before.

    That sparkle held not only a deep admiration and friendship, but something more. For the first time since I had met him, I saw the love he had for me. I knew then, that we held that connection I had been seeking for so long. His eyes called to me, his lips begged to be kissed, his body yearned to be held. In my hands I held my true love, the boy I was meant to be with.

    I gently cupped his face in my hands and brought it closer to mine, until we were a mere quarter of an inch apart. I felt his breath on my lips, the heat from his body made me tingle all over. The stiffness in my pants began to make itself known as hormones began surging through my body at incredible rates.

    I looked into his eyes for one final confirmation that this was what he wanted, and prepared myself. I took a deep breath and brought my lips to his, closing my eyes and feeling myself become one with the boy that I loved so much. The kiss seemed to last hours. The taste of his lips was delicious, a sensual delight the likes of which I had never experienced. I gently caressed his chest and stomach as we continued our lip lock. I felt so intimately close to Chris, but soon, kissing wasn't enough. I wanted more. Suddenly, I rolled towards him, forcing him down onto his back, pulling myself on top of him. We never left eye contact the entire time.

    Chris was in shock. He had no idea what was going on. He was hypnotized by the awesome feeling of this new intimacy we shared together, the barrier we had broken, and the newfound love surging through his heart. I could feel his hardness pressing against mine as I paused momentarily, looking into each other's eyes again, then joining our lips once more for a second round of kissing.

    Chris was tight lipped when the first kiss came about. I suspect he felt inexperienced and unable to simply "go with the flow." This time though, he was ready to receive it. His lips softened, and he opened his mouth slightly. For the first time I got a taste of his sweet candy breath, his tongue brushing against mine. He moaned softly when he came up for air.

    We kissed for about ten minutes when I broke the kiss and looked into Chris' eyes again. In just that short moment, they had gone from a depressing gray, to a most wondrous shade of blue.

    "Matt," Chris began, "that was... The most awesome kiss ever."

    "I was so afraid," I responded, "that you wouldn't like it, but I just had to. I love you so much. I have since the day I first met you. I'm gonna miss you so much."

    "I don't want to leave you," Chris stated. "I have never felt this way about anyone before."

    "Neither have I," I answered back. "Let's not think about tomorrow. At least we have tonight."

    I leaned back down and resumed kissing my newfound love. Our passion was intense, for I knew this night would have to be enough to last me the rest of my life. Lightning does not strike twice, and true love comes along just as often. Maybe one day, I thought, we would be together again.

    I began softly grinding my crotch into his, to which Chris responded in kind. My mind was reeling. I couldn't believe this was happening right then. Here was the boy I loved, in my arms, returning the affection I was giving him. Soon our soft grinding began to pick up the pace, but I knew this was neither the time, nor the place. Many pairs of ears around the campsite would soon know what was going on, had we continued. I broke the kiss and put my finger to his lips.

    "Chris, we should slow down."

    He began to pout. "I don't wanna."

    "I know Chris," I replied. "God, do I know. I just…..I don't think I could go any further with you and be able to live with myself. I miss you already, and you're not even gone yet. If I took you further down that path, I couldn't bear to see you go. Its breaking my heart already. Maybe someday we'll get to see each other again."

    "I hope so," Chris wished. "I wish that you could come with me."

    "I know," I responded. My heart felt as if it had been ripped from my chest, for that was what would be happening to me the following day, when Chris and his father would get in their car and drive out of my life forever. I couldn't take the unpleasant thoughts in my head any longer. I was determined to push them out of my head and just enjoy the moment. "Let's just lay here together for a while." And we did just that. For the remainder of the night, we remained locked in each others arms, attempting to defy sleep, so that we could both cherish every last moment we had together. .

    With my last waking breath that night, I decreed: "I love you so much, Chris. I don't care what it takes, some day we'll be back together again."

    "I love you, too," Chris responded. Chris began to cry quietly as he attempted to fall asleep, my arms wrapped around him lovingly.

    I kissed his face and neck as his tears slowly faded, sleep overtaking him. He had an emotional evening, and was quite obviously exhausted. I, on the other hand, had become quite used to misery, and made peace with the fact that our little dream would end in a few short hours. I never slept that night, instead mentally recording every sight, sound, smell, taste, and sensation of the embrace.

    I took in the moment, letting it fill my heart with all the strength I felt I would need to survive however much time we would be apart, in hopes to one day re-unite and give our love a second chance to blossom. It was the most intimate experience of my young life, and I will cherish it forever.

    The following morning, I found my love still in my arms, I spooned behind him, my morning erection poking his thigh a little. The warmth of the moment was sensuous. If only we could have stayed in bed. But, I knew it was time to get going. "Chris," I gently nudged my love. "Wake up."

    "Mmmm……too early…." He mumbled.

    I thought to myself, 'I know what'll get him out of bed in a hurry.' I then pounced on his torso, pinning his arms back on the floor, my erection now pressing into his abdomen. He was now fully awake, his liquid blue eyes alive with spark and color again.

    Chris looked at me with a mock-annoyed expression and mumbled, "You rang?"

    I giggled and replied "Hey there sleepy head, you wanna take a shower?"

    Chris' morning grogginess faded almost instantly, and he grabbed the back of my head, forcing my face to meet his in a passionate, loving kiss. He broke the kiss, after first retrieving his tongue from the back of my throat, and responded "Hell yeah!"

    It was still early, and we were the first ones out of bed, which was rather odd since neither of us got much sleep that night. Though, I suppose it's understandable. It was after all the last day we'd see each other for god knew how long.

    Chris and I decided to whip up some breakfast for the scouts and leaders, putting better use to the nervous energy we held for the impending separation. Gary and the other leaders were surprised to wake up to the smell of bacon, eggs and pancakes.

    Since I despised eggs with every fiber of my being, I made Chris in charge of their preparation, while I cooked the bacon, then set it aside to stay warm, and started pouring some pancakes onto the griddle. I wasn't the fastest cook in the world, but my culinary aptitude did not go unnoticed.

    Gary, Tony, Chuck, and Fred were drawn from their tents to the heavenly aroma emanating from the cooking area, and each praised us for our excellent initiative. They then made the rounds, calling everyone to get dressed and get their mess kits to have a fresh cooked Saturday breakfast.

    Chris and I laughed and joked with each other and the younger scouts as we dished out our culinary delights. All the scouts enjoyed the hot, fresh cooked meal. Chris and I covered for each other so we could each get a hot dish of our own creation. I was pleased with our efforts, and planned on stealing a moment before we left camp that morning.

    Everyone was exhausted as we broke down the tents and kitchen area, splitting the gear into the vehicles driven by Gary, Tony, and Chuck. We all had a long week at camp, and were ready to go home and sleep in our own beds.

    Chris and I stole a moment alone before we left, each of us not sure what to say. Chris' eyes were tearing up, my own were misty as well. I looked into his eyes and fought for a few words that he would remember in the years to come.

    "I don't really know what to say," I started. "I'm…. Last night meant a lot to me. I've never cared so much for anyone as I do for you. Just…." I fought sob and continued. "Just promise me that you'll remember me. Remember last night."

    Chris was freely crying at that point, and was too choked up to do anything but smile and nod, his red cheeks and tear-tracked face illustrating the true torment this separation brought to his heart.

    I wrapped my arms tightly around him in my feeble attempt to bring comfort to his misery. We held that embrace for ten minutes, while both of us vented our overflowing emotions. I felt as though I'd never be able to let go of him that morning. It would be like me letting go of the only thing that sustained my life.

    With much pain, and a few heated bellows from the adult leaders, we reluctantly separated. I fixed my shirt with my hands, then gazed over at a distraught Chris, who wasn't moving to do the same.

    I approached him and straightened out his shirt in a fatherly manner, then smiled at my love, hoping that my smile would bring him some light, then threw my arm around his shoulder and dragged him off toward the rest of the troop.

    Though they were intent on getting on the road, no one questioned our absence, and obvious emotional release. To them, we were just two good friends saying goodbye. To Chris and me, we were saying goodbye to a piece of ourselves, and it was the hardest thing either of us had to do.

    As if that goodbye wasn't bad enough, our last scout meeting together the following Monday was even worse. I wanted so badly to kiss his sweet lips one last time, to feel him in my arms once more, but I didn't want to invoke the same type of feelings that were coming out last Saturday night. It would have been too hard on both of us, not to mention that it would freak out the rest of the scouts and adult leaders, by acting "inappropriately" as they would say, with a boy 2 years younger than myself, whom I had only known a few months. My heart broke as I looked at Chris, who was obviously distraught.

    We each politely said goodbye to each other, reminding each other to write or call, then briefly hugged and separated. I remained as straight-faced as I could when I gave Gary my farewell handshake and hug, then watched as they got into Gary's truck and drove away.

    I kept an eye on the dark blue Ford pickup until it was down the road and out of site, then walked around to the other side of the building, where I could be alone for a moment, and bawled for a few minutes.

    I knew my father would give me the third degree when he saw me so broken up. He was a "Man's man" and wasn't caught being emotional very often, save for angry. Luckily, I managed to pull myself together in a few minutes and fool my father into believing I was fine during the entire trip home.

    Once I did arrive home, I hurried myself to my bedroom, locking my door for privacy, and crawled onto the bed, seeking for the darkness of sleep to give me a few hours peace from my painful, lonesome, depressing reality.

    There I was, facing the cold truth that my ship has sailed. My one true chance at finding happiness was gone. It broke my heart to think that, but I've always been a realist. I had to stare my future in the face that night, forced to make peace with the fact that I would never find love again.

    Comments and/or constructive criticism to bwctadmin@cox.net

  15. He was a shy, kindhearted young boy with a spirited personality. I was a Depressed, bitter, aimless victim of the world around me. Each of us led our own lives, hoping one day to find love. Fate, it seemed, brought us together from completely different worlds, then tore us apart for reasons incomprehensible to us.

    Two years later, we were once again brought together by events greater than ourselves, the two of us finding in each other the love and support we had secretly hoped was there all along.

    We knew our trials and hardships would be plentiful, But we did not fear. We would be each other's rock, and do whatever it took to survive. Our love was strong. Our love was pure. Our love was transcending.

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