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Subject: Milkweed Island – Part 6 Disclaimer: Persons under 18 should stop reading now. This series depicts a tribal society in fictional world with social norms, and biological and ecological realities different from anything that exists in our world. Events and persons are completely fictional. This story belongs to the author. Do not copy, adapt or repost outside this website. The Nifty Archives have provided a venue for many years, however, this cannot be done for free. Please consider a fty/donate.html. You can contact the author with feedback, encouragement and inspiration at ail. -Akota- That afternoon, Akota and Gep followed the stream close to where it met the river. It was a place that the nine-year-old boys didn’t often go to because the current grew heavy upstream and the rocks to walk along grew scarce. Akota hoped the scramble would keep them from having to talk too much about the events of the morning and of last night. After Gep dry came from Akota licking his ass, he had grown quiet and thoughtful. Gep sometimes got like that after cumming, Akota knew. Also, this was a new experience for both boys. Akota had sucked the cocks of many men, family and friends and drank their seed, but licking a butthole for pleasure seemed like a strange, taboo thing to do. He knew Gep was thinking about it too. Near the river, the boys found a bend where the water slowed and lots of milkweed grew. The bright green delicate fronds unfurled among the moss. Their stalks and flesh pulsed with white sap. A musky odor hung in the air. “There’s so much of it,” Gep squeaked. Akota’s little hooded prick stiffened in an instant. The smell of the milkweed sent a pulse of heat from his undescended balls through his entire naked brown body. “Let’s pick it,” Akota whispered. Akota and Gep scrambled over the rocks along the bend, picking the fresh, bright green, curling shoots that grew up in the in the middle of the darker, more mature fronds. These shoots had the milkier, more potent sap that filled men’s bodies with a soothing energy and filled men’s balls with rich sweet seed. Once they gathered as much as they could carry, the boys laid the fronds on a big flat rock in the sun. “It won’t dry here,” said Akota. “There’s too much shade.” Milkweed was best after it had been dried in the sun, ideally on a loosely woven straw mat and for several days. “We could take it back to your house,” said Gep. “I don’t want to go home yet. Father will make us do chores.” Gep thought for a minute. “We could give it to the woodsmen.” “Are you sure you want to do that? After that Bo peed on you yesterday?” Gep winced at the comment. “It’s ok. It was just a joke, right? If I can laugh at their jokes then that means we can be friends. Let’s give it to them. They will be happy and it will fill their balls with seed.” The smell of the freshly picked milkweed and the thought of the young woodsmen’s heavy brown balls swollen with cum sent an ache through Akota’s hairless cock. He agreed and the boys scooped up the fronds and carefully hopped over the rocks back towards the woodsmen camp. When they arrived at the clearing, the men were sawing a fallen tree into sections. Akota spotted Mako and Bo on either side of a huge log. Mako was squatting down, pushing and pulling the saw. His back muscles rippled beneath his brown skin and his sweat-soaked loincloth had gathered in the crack of his sinewy butt. As they did the day before, Akota and Gep hung back until the young men took a break. The afternoon sun cast long shadows and the woodsmen seemed like this might be the last break of the day before heading back to their nearby camp. The woodsmen camp was filled with second and third sons, men who would never marry or have children. The girls they might have married ended up as tributes to the Ulungu or, a few, as second wives to the Chief. On the entire island, only the Chief practiced polygamy. That was the law. Akota approached the lounging woodsmen sprawled out among the stumps and logs, their loincloths loose and sweaty. The boy’s thin brown arms were full of milkweed shoots. “We brought you some fresh milkweed,” he said. Bo, the bearded woodsman who looked about 20-years-old, smiled. “You should have dried it first, or smoke cured it would be even better. Do we look like we have time to do that?” “Fine, we will do that for you and bring it back,” Akota said scornfully. “Bo, don’t be so ungrateful. These boys are giving us a gift even after you peed on them yesterday,” laughed Mako. The other woodsmen chuckled too, but also murmured in agreement. Mako walked over to the boys and plucked a shoot from the clutch that Akota was holding and put the sticky oozing stalk between his lips. “I actually like it fresh, he said, ruffling Akota’s mop of hair. “Put it down over there on that stump and we will take it home with us.” Akota and Gep placed the milkweed on the stump. Then Mako came up behind them and placed his arms around the boys. His broad chest was hot from work. His sweaty armpits squished against the boys’ necks. He turned his head back and forth, looking at them with a wide smile. “Akota, son of Mora, how many brothers do you have? Four? Five?” Akota answered, “Five.” “Five! Unheard of. And you are not the first, or even the second, I believe. You will become a woodsman one day, I hope, and be our brother. We will live and work together. We will cook each others’ meals and tend each others’ wounds. We will share seed every day, and we will grow old together just like a man and his wife.” Mako’s lightly sour breath was hot on Akota’s face. His dark lively eyes stared deep into his own. “The seed I feed you today will help your body grow big and strong. It’s power will flow down into your balls and make them swell and drop and become covered in hair. Then, when you join us, you will feed us, your brothers, from your young nuts and return the strength we gave to you. By this time Akota had stopped breathing. His penis was furiously erect and he felt a strong desire to wrap his arms around the young man’s neck and give him a hug. Then Mako turned to Gep. “And you, little one, I’m not sure I know your name. You are the son of Yuma, who lives down that path, right? His only son?” “Yes, my name is Gep.” “Gep. One day, Gep, you will get married and have a wife, yes? If I give you my seed today you will take my woodsman’s strength into your body and use it to grow you balls too. And one day you will spill your seed into your wife and make a son or two. And, maybe, when that time comes and you are a father and I am an old woodsman, you will send your young sons to me to fill my toothless mouth with their powerful young milk. Then you will have returned the power that I lent to you today, yes?” Gep stood there silent with his bucktoothed mouth open. Akota felt a pang of jealousy. It was the second time today that someone had mentioned the different futures in store for him and his friend. He didn’t like feeling lower than Gep. Mako turned back to Akota. “I think the first bet has better odds. I always favor my fellow woodsman, present and future. Would you like me to share seed with you Akota?” Akota nodded then looked at Gep to make sure his friend was not offended. Gep smiled. “I can help.” “Sure Gep,” Mako said, cleaning a spot on the forest floor. “Lie down here and suck on my balls. Akota, you get on all fours and suck my cock.” “Alright,” laughed Bo. “This will be a good show. Let’s see if these puny boys can make Mako squirt.” Mako got on his knees and straddled Gep’s head, lowering his hairy, unwashed nuts in to Gep’s upturned mouth. Mako’s sac was heavy and loose and covered in long sweaty hair. Akota saw Gep’s face wince at the taste as one of the big nuts filled his small toothy mouth. Mako’s cock, which had been limp, began to move. Akota could see the cockhead traveling down the length of dusky unfurling foreskin. He knelt down to take it. The smell hit him while he was still an arms length away. It was rich smell of fresh musk pierced with a sharp fishy smell of smegma emanating from under Mabo’s heavy foreskin. Akota decided to take the big hardening cock in his mouth without skinning it back to try and reduce the stench. After a few sucks it would all be cleaned away and only the musk would remain. Akota stretched his nine-year-old mouth as wide as he could to take the woodsman’s hooded cock deep inside without skinning it back. Once he had as much cock as he could take, he closed his mouth around the brown shaft and began bobbing up and down. The grip of his lips peeled back the skin from the cockhead in his mouth, filling it with a sharp rich flavor. Akota knew he was not as good of a cocksucker as his brother manisa escort Betsu, but being a boy with three older brothers, he figured that he was better than most boys his age. Also he had Gep helping him, nursing like a piglet on Mako’s nuts. As he bobbed up and down, Akota’s drool ran down the root of the woodsman’s manhood collecting the musk in his bush and carrying it down to Gep’s suckling mouth. Akota’s chin was near Gep’s forehead. He imagined that if he could take the cock deep enough then he could bonk his friend’s furrowed brow. Gep would be totally surprised since he currently has his eye clinched shut. Akota wondered if Gep would remember to try their plan and move down to Mako’s asshole. He wouldn’t get a better chance than now. Several woodsmen had gathered around to watch. Bo was stroking Akota’s back approvingly. Occasionally he would reach a rough hand between Akota’s legs and pinch the flag of skin sticking off the young boy’s prick. Another lankier woodsman was stroking his veiny hooked cock. Akota wondered if he might be able to get two loads out of this. Two loads from young woodsmen who had been chewing milkweed all day would be enough to fill his belly. It would certainly help make him strong and manly. His hairless cock twitched at the thought. Mako’s dick oozed a constant stream of sweet precum with the distinctive flavor of milkweed. Akota did his best to pleasure him even though the cock was too big for his mouth. He barely noticed that Gep had scooted down and was now licking Mako’s hairy taint. “Oh yeah,” Mako growled. “Gep is clever. He knows the secret. Seed is made in the balls, yes, but the rest of it, all of a man’s milk is made in that place behind the balls. He is teasing out a great load for you. You’d better be ready.” Akota increased his rhythm. He could tell from his voice that Mako was close. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Gep hunch his neck down a bit and go in. He knew he was going for Mako’s ass. Mako yelped in surprise and thrust forward. As he did, a wave of cum came pouring from his dick. Akota started to choke but the load had nowhere to escape. It was impossible to cough with a cock the size of his wrist crammed in his mouth. He forced his throat to open as the hot bitter milk filled his gut. “The kid licked my asshole!” he heard Mako say as Akota tumbled back on the forest floor sputtering and trying to retrieve the seed that had squirted up into his sinuses. “Did you like it?” Bo laughed. “Obviously I did.” Everyone laughed. Akota sat up. He noticed that Gep was still lying on his back. “You shot it too far down my throat. I couldn’t even taste it,” Akota said. “I swear. Give you kids a smidge… I just shot one of the biggest loads of my life down your whiny gullet, despite having emptied my balls in old Bo’s mouth just this morning, and all you can do is complain?” Mako said in a teasing tone. Bo nodded in agreement.The lanky woodsman was still absently jerking his cock. “Choa, can you give this ingrate the load you are working up there? You certainly don’t have to on my account. It’s up to you,” Mako said. Choa shrugged and padded over to Akota placing his big rough left hand on Akota’s forehead and unceremoniously pushing him back to sit on butt with a thump. Choa kept pushing until Akota’s head was craned back, his mouth upturned and wide open. The entire time, Choa never stopped lazily stroking his curved, hooded cock. Then he placed his cock on Akota’s outstretched tongue and gave a few more tugs. With the final tug, his hot red cockhead emerged halfway from its foreskin. The lips of the foreskin were covered in a translucent white webbing of dried smegma. Then the piss slit opened up and hosed six strong blasts of thick white cum. Akota clinched the back of his throat shut to keep from swallowing the seed. Once Choa was done he craned Akota’ head down a bit so he could look the young boy in the eye. Then traced his thumb down Akota’s cheek and pried his mouth open. Akota drew back his tongue and cupped his mouth so that the thick pool of cum wouldn’t spill out. It barely fit. The taste was sweet, bitter, and acrid at the same time, and opening his mouth filled head with the sharp scent of it. Akota remained frozen while Bo and Mako both peered in to see the white pool floating in his pink mouth. “I think he’s finally got enough,” said Mako. “At least you found a way to shut him up,” joked Bo. “You can swallow now,” said Choa. It was the first time Akota had heard the sinewy woodsman speak. He swallowed. He could feel all the hot seed that had collected in his belly. His cock screamed for attention but now was not the time. “You mind if your friend cleans me off?” asked Choa. He seems pretty eager. Akota looked at the seed gathered at the end of Choa’s already softening cock. The woodsman had milked out the leavings from his shaft and it had collected in the folds of his foreskin. Then he saw Gep squatting nearby, fully recovered, hungrily eyeing the cum. Akoto nodded, and Gep leapt forward wrapping his bucked-toothed mouth around the cream. Even the unflappable Choa seemed shocked at his eagerness. “Easy boy. Leave me a cock and I might give you a load of your own next time.” Akota’s head spun in contentment. The forest canopy never seemed so bright. The rich, bitter taste of man milk filled his mouth and throat. He squeezed his furiously erect prick. “Wait a second, little Akota,” said thick hairy Bo. “Don’t pull out a dry cum just yet. I want you to help me give a load to Gep just like he helped you.” Bo called Gep over. Despite the reassurances, it was obvious that Gep had not forgotten yesterday’s trick when Bo had peed in his mouth. He approached bearded woodsman slowly, but once he was in arms length, Bo wrenched him over and pushed him down on all fours. Then he motioned Akota to lie down in front of Gep with his head pointed towards him. Bo brusquely squatted over Akota’s head and pulled Gep’s head onto the exposed pink mushroom head of his hard blunt cock. Bo sat on Akota’s face like he would a stool. His wet hairy taint smashed into Akota’s nose. For a moment, Akota’s thought he felt blood, but it was just hot musky sweat. A full day’s work worth of musk had collected here. Just below Akota’s mouth a sharper stench was radiating off Bo’s tight pink butthole. Akota remembered that despite Bo’s looks he was probably only ten or eleven years older than him, probably twenty-years-old. He still had the pink asshole of a boy, even though it was nestled in a thicket of coarse black hair. Akota was relieved to see that it was just sweaty and not dirty. Islanders usually washed in the water after pooping but Akota knew that woodsman got busy during the day and might only wipe with leaves if they couldn’t make it to the stream. There was no `dirt’ around Bo’s ass, just sweaty fur and a few flecks of sawdust. Little Akota pushed through the initial wave of nausea caused by the musky smell and began lapping on Bo’s taint, trying to make a game of cleaning off every inch with his tiny pink tongue. Beneath the hair, Akota found that Bo had a ridge of raised skin running from his ass to the base of his balls. He ran his tongue down the length of the ridge and then made a new game out of skipping his tongue tip back a forth on either side ridge as he work his way towards Bo’s asshole. Under the taint skin, Akota felt the hard root of Bo’s cock. This, Mako had said, is where the milk was made. As Akota’s tongue neared the ring of coarse hair surrounding Bo’s asshole, Bo thrust forward into Gep’s mouth bringing his sphincter right to Akota’s lips. This was the time. Akota ignored the smell and the sweet metallic tang and plunged his tongue into the woodsman’s butt. Bo moaned with pleasure and thrust his hairy butt hard into Akota’s face. The boy’s tongue drove deeper, past the sickeningly sweet pucker and into the woodsman’s ass. His tongue burned with the strain of keeping straight and firm. Bo made a low growl deep within his chest then grabbed Gep’s shaggy head and forced it on his musky blunt dick. Akota knew from the pulsation of his asshole that the husky woodsman was pumping a big load of cum down his friend’s throat. He withdrew his tongue and scrambled out from under Bo. “Gods! Who taught these boys to lick a man’s asshole?” he shouted, prying Gep from his cock. “None of you ever do that for me!” The woodsmen laughed. Gep rolled over onto his back. His pink phimotic cock stood furiously erect. Akota crawled over to his friend, got in the 69-position, and began sucking him off. They both needed to orgasm, but more importantly, Akota needed something in his mouth to take away the taste of pungent ass. In maraş escort no time, the little boys were dry cumming into each other’s mouths. The woodsmen gave them some approving chuckles, a few pats on the head, and then went back to their late afternoon work. Akota turned himself around and lay on Gep’s thin outstretched arm. Akota whispered, “His asshole tasted terrible.” Gep looked surprised. “Really? Mako’s butt wasn’t that bad. He isn’t as thick and hairy as Bo. He’s younger. Maybe that’s why.” Gep looked thoughtful for a moment. “They liked it a lot, didn’t they?” “They definitely came a lot,” said Akota. “Yeah. I like to make them cum,” said Gep, still looking of into the distance, into the treetops. -Betsu- Betsu walked along the path to the beach. His pale naked body moved through the jungle like a ghost. His head was full of thoughts of the future. His father and uncle had determined that he would become a priest. The priests of the island communed with the ancestors and maintained the connection between the life force of the island and the power of its people. They conducted elaborate rituals in front of the little shrines that each family had in its house. They lived together at one of the five temples on the island. They received offerings of seed from the men of the island and they also shared seed with men, often loners and the elderly, who had gone too long without consuming it. The priests said that a man should at least consume seed once every ten days or lose vitality and the favor of the ancestors. The priests also led the four annual ceremonies with their fires, feasts, costumes and music. At these ceremonies, there would usually be a boy or two attempting to prove himself a man and receive a loincloth. The boy would have to perform various trials and make declarations of piety and devotion culminating in him cumming on a bright green banana leaf. Then the priests would gather around the thin white streak, looking, sniffing and gently licking it, before convening to decide if he boy was worthy to be called a man. It was a uncommon, and very embarrassing, to be rejected at a ceremony, but it did happen. Betsu was sure it would happen to him. His cum was still thin and watery and his rail thin body was not manly in any way. This thought brought him to his deeper concern. Was any of it real? Did a man’s seed really have power? If so, why had that power not come to him in the form of a brave heart and a strong body. He drank several loads a day, much more than his brothers. He had organized his lonely, listless days around finding cum to eat. Could he really dedicate his life to all that if, in his heart, he didn’t believe in its power? At the Great Festival, which would be coming in a few weeks, all the island gathered at the Great Temple in the Chief’s Village. The music was louder. The dances were crazier. And after the induction ceremonies the adult men gathered under the temple’s great pergola, wrapped in curtains and performed the most secret and sacred ritual. Betsu knew from rumor that this involved all the men of the island giving the priests their seed, but how this worked he wasn’t sure. He had grilled Pecha after his first time leaving the ritual but Pech had been quiet and even a little shaken. Betsu was dreaming of what it would be like to drink your fill of seed, to drink gulps of seed from a vessel like you would drink water from the stream. The smell and the taste would be overwhelming. Even he would surely gag. Also, he would miss the fun of getting the seed out in the first place. Unlike many men on the island, Betsu liked making men make seed. He liked jerking and sucking a man’s cock, even an ugly man. No matter how ugly the man was, his cock and balls were beautiful. Gradually the jungle gave way to dunes and beach. Betsu admired the shimmering sea then followed the shore north towards the fishermen’s cove, a village of about ten households. Betsu did not plan to visit the village where he was sure he wouldn’t be welcome, but nearby there was swampy brackish place where a stream met the ocean and a lot of milkweed grew. He thought he might gather some for his uncle Mabo and the other priests of Mabo’s temple. At the little swamp nestled on the outer edge of the fishing village, the jungle came right up to the sea. Betsu pushed through the undergrowth to a bog covered in bright green milkweed. A smell like boy’s cum, soapy and pungent, lingered in the humid air. Across the clearing was a tall, dark brown boy stooped over to pull something out from under a large tree root. Island custom required that Betsu greet the stranger, but he did not really want to. The boy was almost certainly from the fishing village and the people of the fishing village were notoriously prickly. Still, not introducing himself would only make matters worse so he made his way across the clearing, avoiding the thorny brambles and muddy pools. As he approached the dark boy, Betsu was surprised at how close he was able to get to him without the boy hearing him coming. He must be very focused on his task. The boy was laid across the big tree root with his dark brown butt sticking up in the air. Betsu was now close enough to see that the boy was not wearing a loincloth even though Betsu guessed he must be at least fourteen years old. It was strange for a boy who had received his cloth to still go around naked. Most newly clothed boys were proud of their cloths and some even wore them swimming. Betsu got close enough to see that the boy was struggling to pull something out from under a tree root. His butt waggled in the air as he pulled. His dusky asshole pulsed in and out with the effort. Two thin trails of fine black hair ran down either side of his ass and met at his taint. The hair was hard to see because the boy’s skin had been burnt so dark. His heavy balls swung side to side in his long loose sac. Then Betsu saw his cock peeking out from behind his substantial nuts. His cock drooped down but it appeared to be partially erect. That was not so strange given the effect of the smell of milkweed on men’s cocks. However, at the tip of his cock Betsu noticed that his foreskin had been cinched shut with a blade of grass tied around the nipple of skin that protruded beyond his cockhead. Betsu had never seen this before. Suddenly the boy wretched free the thing he was struggling with and spun around, his arms and chest covered in mud. When he saw Betsu standing behind him he startled and drop the large lustrous black rock he was holding into the ankle-deep water. “I’m sorry to scare you,” Betsu explained. “I wanted to see what you were doing. My name is Betsu.” The boy looked confused. Betsu repeated his name more slowly and pointed to himself. “Bechu?” the boy repeated in a deep slurred voice. “Be-TSU.” “Betsu,” said the boy, still slurring a little. Betsu wondered if the boy was a little off. “My name is Japa,” the boy said. “Japa?” Betsu asked, having never heard such a name. “CHA-pa,” said Chapa. Then he pointed to his ears and made an “X” sign with his fingers. “Oh, you’re deaf,” said Betsu. Chapa nodded. Betsu looked over Chapa’s tall sinewy body. The boy from the fishing village was lean and very tanned. His long shaggy hair obscured his gaunt pimpled face. His body was hairless except for a small patch of pubes. His limp cock looked oddly swollen and stood straight out from his body. The blade off grass fluttered off the end like a bright green flag. Chapa saw Betsu looking at it. “It’s to keep my juice inside,” Chapa said. Betsu leaned in to get a closer look. Chapa’s foreskin nipple was sealed tight. Even so, some precum had escaped and gathered on the nipple making it glisten. Betsu’s mouth watered. Almost inadvertently he leaned over and stuck out his tongue. “No. My juice is for Papa,” Chapa shouted, turning away. Betsu pulled back. “I’m sorry. It’s just, you look like you are dripping.” Betsu said, mouthing the words dramatically for Chapa to read his lips and cocking his chin towards the ebony boy’s cummy foreskin tip. Chapa thought for a second, then said, “Ok, you can clean it but don’t suck it. It for Papa.” Betsu knelt down and gently took the brown foreskin nipple into his mouth and licked it, being careful not to suck. He could smell Chapa’s musk and the faint sour fishy smell of smegma. The taste of the slime-coated skin was rich, salty and sweet. Chapa cooed. After a few seconds Chapa snatched the foreskin from Betsu lips and indicated that he stand up. “You should come see Papa. You took my juice. It his. He want your juice for that. You should come,” Chapa slurred. His words were a little difficult to understand. “Can you make juice?” Chapa asked. mardin escort “A little.” “You should build up some. Papa doesn’t like a little. Lemme help you.” Chapa came around behind Betsu, towering over the scrawny boy two years his junior. His bloated cock brushed against the small of Betsu’s back. Chapa reached a muddy arm over Betsu’s shoulder and down to his hard hairless cock. Meanwhile his other muddy hand reached under Betsu’s butt and lifted it up, forcing Betsu to arch his back. Then Chapa wiggled his fingers between Betsu’s thin thighs and began massaging his taint. Betsu leaned forward, submitting to this strange boy. Chapa’s muddy fingers gently tickled and danced over Betsu smooth taint and balls. His other hand plucked at Betsu small cock until it was furiously hard. Betsu was rarely impressed with another boy’s skills at giving pleasure since their’s usually paled in comparison to his and all he could do was focus on how he could do better, but Chapa had real talent. Here was a boy who loved giving pleasure as much as he did. Betsu looked up to see Chapa smiling down at him. The tall boy was missing one of his front teeth which gave his smile a mischievous look. Betsu’s body became flushed. After a moment his purring turned to soft moans. Then, just as he felt his cock begin to twitch, Chapa stopped. “That’s enough for now. Let’s go to beach and wash off and I help you make more juice there.” Without waiting for a response, Chapa put the heavy chunk of obsidian he had found in Betsu’s bony arms, gathered up the milkweed he had collected and trudged through the bog towards the beach. Betsu followed behind. At the beach the two naked boys dropped their armfuls in the sand and ran to the water. Betsu couldn’t help but laugh at the way Chapa’s limp swollen cock swung heavily from side to side as he ran. Once they had washed off, Chapa grabbed Betsu’s wrist and led him to the warm sand. There, Chapa had Betsu stand facing away from him and spread his legs straight and wide. He pushed Betsu down at the waist so that he was doubled over spread-eagle with his head and hands in the sand. Betsu liked the way that Chapa pushed and pulled him around to avoid having to talk. Then Chapa sat crosslegged behind Betsu and began licking and sucking his tight hairless balls. Betsu hummed with joy. “You make more juice,” said Chapa. Betsu’s knees buckled and he shoved his salty crotch into Chapa’s face. His mouth was even better than his fingers. After a moment, Chapa stood up, grabbed Betsu by the waist and laid him in the sand. “You suck my balls. Make juice.” “You’re full?” said Betsu, indicating Chapa’s precum-filled foreskin. “Almost. Balls are tender. Lots of juice. Be gentle,” he leaned in with mock seriousness, smirking. Chapa straddled Betsu’s head in a 69-position and lowered his prodigious black sac onto Pecha’s hungry mouth. Pecha could see the boy’s fine new scrotum hairs already fried frazzled by the sun of the open sea. Betsu could tell from their size and the way that they sat heavy in Chapa’s ample sac that they were painfully full of cum. As Chapa sucked like a suckling pig on Betsu’s small hooded cock and balls at the same time, Betsu gently cradled one of Chapa’s big nuts with his tongue. He applied almost no pressure, letting the precious egg wash in the juices of his young mouth. He nestled the ball against the roof of his mouth and marveled at it’s weight and electric power. Betsu thought back to the day of Pecha’s induction ceremony. Pecha was nervous that his seed wouldn’t satisfy the priests, and he wouldn’t get his cloth. He had all his little brothers nurse on his balls all afternoon in preparation; Betsu, Akota and even little Kala, who was barely more than a toddler at the time. Even back then Pecha’s balls were beautiful, perhaps even more beautiful then because his pubes hadn’t yet grown bushy and trailed down to his sac yet. Betsu had sucked on his older brother’s big tangy balls that day with as much love as he could muster, hoping that the ancestors would see his devotion and bless Pecha with a virile load for the priests. Pecha walked to the ceremony that day with his swollen sac swinging between his smooth lithe legs, shiny from the dried spit of his three little brothers. Now Betsu gave that same sweet attention to the dusky balls of this fisher boy. He felt the power of the white seed growing inside those balls. Looking down he saw Chapa’s erect cock straining against the walls of his foreskin and the expertly tied grass blade. White dried precum flaked off the foreskin tip like glue. “Ok enough,” said Chapa suddenly. Plucking his sac from Betsu’s lips and brushing the sand off of himself as he stood. “Let’s go home.” Chapa walked with Betsu side-by-side to the fishing village. The village didn’t have a proper name. People just called it the fishing village. The word village was generous. It was a collection of seaside shacks protected by a small cove of volcanic rock. The canoes that the fishermen used were in much better shape than their houses. Naked babies sat here and there. The people in the fishing village paid less attention to the Chief’s attempts at population control and relied more on accident and starvation to keep their numbers in check. Pecha realized in thinking this that he was thinking like his older brother, Simal, and not his father, who only ever considered things in religious terms. The fishing village had not named a priest in several years and they had no temple. This, his father would say, was the source or their problems. Chapa pulled Betsu into a darkened shack, took the obsidian stone from his hands and sat him down in front of the hearth across from a lean stern-looking leathery man. He dropped the milkweed in the corner and came alongside the seated man who Betsu assumed to be his father. The man placed his lips around Chapa’s foreskin tip and undid the knotted grass. He gave an audible slurp and he cleaned the flesh casing of silky teenage boy precum. The man then proceeded to suck Chapa’s cock into his mouth and work it expertly, all while remaining seated and looking disinterested. Chapa motioned for Betsu to come help, so the willowy boy came around the hearth and began sucking on Chapa’s tiny mahogany nipples. Betsu had found Chapa’s weakness. In seconds the boy was bucking his narrow pelvis into his father’s mouth spurting, what Betsu assumed to be, a white hot thick load. “Thank you for your help boy,” said the man as he brusquely lowered his weak-kneed son to the floor. “My sons give me great gifts of seed. My brothers and my nephews too. Also my friends. Have you come here to be a friend?” The man was burned nearly black and his skin was leathery but he was not ugly. He was a plain-looking man nearing 40 years old who the sun, hard work and hard times had reduced to a tough wiry thing. “Be a good boy and squeeze it into my mouth. I hate to work on something so small.” Betsu let the insult go and shuffled nearer to the man while pulling on his tan foreskin. The man was scary and he was afraid he might not get hard. Then Chapa came up behind him and began lightly kissing his neck. Immediately Betsu was hard and groaning. Chapa’s rippled stomach pressed against his back. Across the room from a dark corner he spied a boy about his age watching from the shadows. It must be one of the man’s sons, one of Chapa’s brothers. Once Chapa’s mouth reached Betsu’s ear and began sucking, Betsu completely lost control and began to cum. His cock barely reached the man’s mouth in time before three little spurts shot out, followed by a series of intense dry convulsions. “Not enough to wet my tongue. Ack,” the man scoffed. Then looking at Chapa and gesturing as he spoke, “Take your friend and get out of here and don’t come back until you’ve prepared my canoe and you have another load for me. No seed no dinner.” Walking back out into the sunlight, Pacha put a friendly arm around Betsu’s shoulder. Betsu’s heart jumped. “It was nice meeting you, but you should go now. I have to fix nets.” “Yeah, I need to collect milkweed to give to the priests. I’m going for my cloth at the Great Festival,” Betsu replied. Chapa nodded and then dashed back into his house. For a moment Betsu thought he might not return, and he felt a weird and sudden anguish. Then the boy came around from the back of the shack with his arms full of the milkweed he had picked earlier. “You have it. Papa don’t need it. He never shares seed anyway. Just takes.” Pacha was grinning. “Thank you,” Betsu said. “Can we meet again?” “Sure. Come to beach tomorrow around this time,” Pacha said with a wink. They agreed, then Betsu walked out of the village with his arms full of sticky sappy shoots. All the way home he had a smile on his face. How wonderful that Pacha could be so cheerful coming from that place and living his life in total silence. Betsu admired the boy. He wanted to know more about him. He could hardly wait until tomorrow.

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