

Amazon Adventure

By Michael Alexander

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2020 Michael Alexander

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

Thank you for downloading this ebook. This book remains the property of the author and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy. Your comments will be appreciated.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.

Please know that many of the scenes depicted in this book contain explicit sexual situations that may not be appropriate for all audiences.

Cover illustration by Jacques De Loustal.

Table of Contents

Foreword

Prologue

Introduction

Trevor

Arturo

Alastar Byrnes

Graduate Students

Preparation

Gary

Lauren

Fortaleza

Belem

Christo

Departure

Endocannibalism

In the Jaguar's Sight

Attacked

Toxaris

Ambush

On A Cross

Rear Attack

Living Among the Natives

Shori

Sex in the Jungle

Spiritual Beings

Medical Wonders

The Raid

Sinaa

In the Family Way

Davi

The Accident

A Confrontation

Flight

The Amazon

Charlie

The Prodigal Returns

True Love

Foreword

Although the Ashaninka and other uncontacted tribes in the Brazilian state of Acre do exist, this novel is a product of my imagination. Where actual places, people, and organizations are mentioned, none of these have any relation to the events portrayed in this novel. Their inclusion is solely intended to provide a realistic portrayal of life in Brazil and the plight of the Brazilian indigenous tribes.

_The Amazon region is a place of superlatives. It has the world's largest rain forest, its biggest river system, its largest river island, its widest river mouth, and its biggest tributary. Many Amazonian species are under threat because of damage to their habitat._ 1

The modern forces that impact and endanger the tribes' survival do exist. Fires caused by natural events and man, logging, mining, and racial strife are just a few of the challenges these natives face. Although this tale does little to aid in their survival, I hope the reader will delve deeper into the situation that exists in Amazonian Brazil.

# Aixa Leah Jemmott-Musin2

Prologue

My public return to Central State University was greeted with no special occasion or fanfare. There appeared to be a total blackout of the expedition I had survived. I, Mark Rudding, was simply another graduate student returning from field work as far as the university populace was concerned. In contrast, university administrators who had been advised I was the only person returning from Brazil had notified the authorities. I was greeted at the airport ramp by two friendly, but insistent FBI agents and before I went through customs. Taking me by the arms in a tight grasp, the two agents hustled me through and around the other passengers. I protested that my parents were waiting for me on the other side of customs. Some passengers stared, others scuttled out of the way, and only one woman appeared to display any empathy towards me. In short, no one intervened. I was ordered to shut my mouth and hand over my cell phone as I was hustled to an elevator. Another agent had held the car, so we entered without delay or other passengers.

In the bowels of the airport, I was taken to a windowless room with a large mirror in one wall. It did not take a rocket scientist to know the mirror was one-way. When the door was shut, I was ordered to strip. Again, I protested and was told that I could either disrobe on my own or the agents would strip me. I spluttered profanities but did take off my clothes down to my underwear with my back turned. As I turned back around with my hands over my package, I was told to take off my boxers. I began to protest but shut up and complied when one of the agents stepped forward with the intention of removing my boxers himself. Although one of the agents was quite good looking in a burley way, thankfully I was not turned on. In fact, under the glare of the two officers and likely voyeurs behind the mirror my cock had shrunk. That was the least of my embarrassment as one agent pulled on gloves and ordered me to open my mouth. Satisfied I was not hiding any contraband there, he ordered me to turn to the table and bend over. Knowing what was to come next, I relaxed my muscles and his finger slid in. It was slightly uncomfortable as he rooted inside the full depth of his finger. It certainly was not the pleasurable feeling I had had the last time Valentim and I had sex. Satisfied that I was not hiding anything in my channel, I was ordered to sit in the single metal chair on one side of the table centered in the room. I asked if I could dress but was answered with a shove to the chair. I immediately felt the chill of the chair as my ass hit the cold metal.

The agents grilled me on the expedition from the day we had left the U.S. until the present day. I felt conflicted emotions about my return. On the one hand, I felt that some recognition should be given for the simple fact I had survived a harrowing, lethal adventure in the Brazilian jungle known as the Amazon. On the other hand, I was certain that exposing the truth about Trevor and my anthropological foray into that dark, forbidding world would cause the authorities to mount a rescue mission to retrieve Trevor if they knew he was alive. I knew deep down that Trevor would never be happy returning to the civilized world. Trevor had gone native. To protect him I lied to the authorities and later Trevor's father by telling all that Trevor had died along with the other expedition members. I was asked if I could detail the itinerary and our travels which was impossible since the professor had kept those records. While the families of the deceased wanted their loved ones back, they were thwarted by the simple fact that it would be impossible to locate any graves or bodies that were left in the elements without a road map.

It was not difficult to leave my sexual relationship with Trevor out of my testimony to the authorities. I simply stated that Trevor had fallen to the same fate as Professor Byrne and the rest of the party. Agent Madison of the FBI was skeptical about my accounting but had no factual basis to question my words. He suggested that I agree to a lie detector test, but I refused citing my right to get advice from my father's lawyer. The questioning continued until the agents ran out of various ways to get me to either change my story or catch me in a lie. I was more than relieved when the agents left the room before telling me to dress. My ass by that time had lost feeling between the cold metal and the hard surface. I quickly pulled on everything and the door opened as I reached it. My supposition that the mirror let anyone outside see in was confirmed.

When I was finally released from confinement and escorted upstairs, my parents met me in baggage claim. Both looked worried but held their tongues as I strode to the claim office. The agent made no attempt to hide the fact my baggage had been rifled through, but I did not want any more contact with law enforcement and did not protest. My parents drove me home all the while asking questions about why the FBI had questioned me as well as what had happened in Brazil. I gave cryptic answers for a few minutes. I finally asked them to stop the inquisition citing exhaustion and closed my eyes.

That night I gave the same story to my parents I had related to the FBI. The next day, my father took me to his lawyer's office, and I had to go over the whole story once again. In confidence, I told the lawyer that I had omitted the facts about my sexual relationship with Trevor. He agreed I should avoid a lie detector test and if the authorities approached me again about that, I should contact him immediately. The FBI did not follow up on the lie detector test but did call me in for another interview. My refusal to divulge any new information eventually convinced the authorities that my story must be the truth. I was finally released by the authorities and the inquiries ended. Family and friends congratulated me on my miraculous escape and survival which was tedious given the fact that I had to tell them the same story over and over. When the hubbub finally died down and the inquiries had ended, I withdrew from the doctoral program citing emotional and physical ailments that had nothing to do with the rigors of my experience.

For a while, I drifted from one meaningless job to another. Wanderlust caused me to move constantly. The mundane, unexciting life back in the States grated on my psyche. After all the excitement of the expedition, inconsequential employment seemed a waste of time. I buried myself in alcohol and self-pity. When my libido finally induced me to look for male companionship, I hit the bars. Relationships were short and tumultuous. None of the guys I hooked up with compared with Trevor, Toxaris or Valentim. I was mired in a self-induced miasma that colored every day since my return. Valentim was always on my mind but absent. Trevor and Toxaris were like earwigs that embedded themselves inside my brain. The cognizant recognition that claims of earwigs devouring a person's brain were fiction did not change how my emotions were affected. I needed to get the two men out of my mind to survive and have Valentim back in my life.

Valentim arrived in the nick of time after some issues with his visa. We did not care what people thought as we hugged, cried, and kissed after Valentim came through customs. The drive back to my studio apartment was punctuated by kisses and caresses at every traffic light. The apartment door had barely shut before our clothes were on the floor and we had flung ourselves onto the king bed that took up much of the floor space. Foreplay was frantic and short before Valentim begged me to impale myself inside his ass. My need for this man had me rutting roughly and hard as I fisted his rod. It took only a short time before we both yelled as our cum shot.

We laid in the detritus of our copulation caressing and kissing. The only words that passed between us were how we loved each other. When we were both ready, I raised my legs and let Valentim take my ass. This time we took our time and slowly brought each other to a climax. Sated Valentim pulled out and laid at my side. Exhausted from two rounds in a short time, we both fell asleep. I awoke hours later and teased Valentim with my tongue lapping at his nipples and swiping his cock. He slowly came to and with a smile told me we had better shower before anymore hanky-panky. I laughed at his use of the old-fashioned word. There was no reluctance on my part to shower first because I planned to fuck my man under the spray. I took only a few minutes of massaging soap in all the right places for Valentim to spread his legs. With a groan emitting from both of us, I entered and slowly fucked him. When the water began to cool, I hurried my thrusts and in no time shot my juice into his ass as Valentim sprayed the shower wall with his own cum. After drying off, dressing, and almost returning to the bed we both decided we were famished and headed out to my favorite bar. Early the next morning we fell into bed slightly inebriated and too bushed to have sex. The perfect ending to our first day and night together was kissing each other goodnight.

It was this man who met all my needs mentally and physically. His arrival brought stability into my life and it was with his encouragement that I wrote this story. Thus, this tale became the medication to rid myself of Trevor, Toxaris and the ordeal in the Amazon. By exorcising them through the following narrative, I knew I could move on with my life having Valentim by my side.

Introduction

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Mark Rudding

Every tale needs an introduction of the main characters. It provides a beginning to understand the people associated with the action contained within the narrative. So, I begin Amazon Adventure by introducing myself as the main character and the narrator. Amazon Adventure is a tale of my relationship with Trevor from idolatry to indifference, though at the time we met, neither he nor I had any inkling that Trevor would be an important character in this dark tale of violence, terror, and death. Nor could I have envisioned I would lose Trevor to both the dark, forbidding jungle and a stunning aboriginal named Sinaa. But I get ahead of myself. I suspect that many other young, gay boys of my generation were introduced to male attraction and a curiosity about primordial tribes through the pages and photographs of _National Geographic_. I certainly remember feeling a lengthening of my young cock staring at the pictures. I also remember mentally gauging how my manhood stood against that of the young boys pictured. That was often questionable as they had foreskins and I was circumcised. Nonetheless, I had a fairly good idea I had a comparable flaccid cock. I had no interest in the girls or women with sagging breasts. I did not understand why I felt attracted to the smooth, hard bodies of the boys and young men, but my body certainly reacted. The internet helped fill in the blanks on what I was feeling. Being a good Southern Baptist, I hid my sexuality from everyone until my senior year at Bishop Moriarity High School when I was outed by a frustrated, angry, agnostic fuck buddy. Jerry wanted us to be honest with each other and all our friends. He did not care one iota that the Catholic Church preferred we keep our carnal thoughts and actions to ourselves. As for the Southern Baptists, the church I attended had some specific tenets.

Resolution On Homosexuality

San Antonio, Texas - 1988

WHEREAS, The erosion of moral sanity continues to be a major problem of modern society; and

WHEREAS, Homosexuality has become the chosen lifestyle of many in this moral decline; and

WHEREAS, The Bible is very clear in its teaching that homosexuality is a manifestation of a depraved nature; and

WHEREAS, This deviant behavior has wrought havoc in the lives of millions; and

WHEREAS, Homosexuals are justified and even glorified in our secular media; and

WHEREAS, Homosexual activity is the primary cause of the introduction and spread of AIDS in the United States which has not only affected those of the homosexual community, but also many innocent victims.

Therefore be it RESOLVED, That we, the messengers to the Southern Baptist Convention, meeting in San Antonio, Texas, June 14-16, 1988, deplore homosexuality as a perversion of divine standards and as a violation of nature and natural affections; and

Be it further RESOLVED, That we affirm the biblical injunction which declares homosexuals, like all sinners, can receive forgiveness and victory through personal faith in Jesus Christ (1 Corinthians 6:9-11); and

Be it finally RESOLVED, That we maintain that while God loves the homosexual and offers salvation, homosexuality is not a normal lifestyle and is an abomination in the eyes of God (Leviticus 18:22; Romans 1:24-28; 1 Timothy 1:8-10).4

I, for obvious reasons, was horrified at the thought the members of my church and my religious peers would find out my secret.

The other result of these magazine articles was a growing interest in anthropology, though it was not until college that the interest manifested itself as a course of study. It was in the Reconstructing the Past course in my first year of graduate school at Central State University that Al, Trevor and I connected.

That was not to say that I did not take every opportunity to spy on semi-naked boys, first on the playground, then on the playing fields or fully naked boys in the shower beginning in junior high. It was one such session of voyeurism when I got caught rubbing my stiffening cock through the thin material of my gym shorts while watching the nude objects of my forbidden desire pass the locker row I sat in. What I did not see was Frank who had entered the row from the other end. Frank shouted "Faggot" loud enough for the entire locker room to come running to where I sat. Being scared by Frank had shrunk my cock in an instant, so when I vehemently denied Frank's assertions that I was playing with myself, I ripped down my gym shorts and underwear to show the assembled boys that my cock was not hard at all. I did not feel embarrassed as the throng looked at my shrunken but more than adequate cock. As I defiantly challenged them to prove I was gay, I noticed that a very few boys, including Neil, were taking an inordinate interest in my groin, while most of the boys were looking at my face. I took note of the guys whose eyes were looking at my cock with more interest than the others. Neil seemed unable to take his eyes off my groin. When I caught Neil in the shower room playing with himself under the spray a month or so later, I screwed up my courage and snuck into the shower room. I thought he would have a heart attack when I whispered in his ear that I liked what I saw. After he gathered his wits, he looked down at my hard cock and I swear his eyes bugged out seeing how big my erect dick was. Knowing that he was not going to object, I reached out and took his cock in my hand. Neil moaned as my fingers made contact. A few seconds later we both moaned as Neil wrapped his hand on my cock. It was my first yank session with my hand on a cock other than my own. Unfortunately, it was the one and only time it happened with that boy because he was the sports star of the school and purported to have had Heather Cochran behind the bleachers. Our encounter had never happened as far as he was concerned. I was a bit shocked when Jerry came up to me afterwards at my locker and told me he had watched the whole show as he rubbed his cock.

We retreated to the shower room and this time I not only watched as my hand brought a geyser of cum from Jerry's cock but also shot a second load as Jerry pumped my cock. I admitted to Jerry that getting off together was much better than a one-sided wank even though I had blue balls. We began an affair that lasted through high school though neither of us was monogamous. I was much more careful in my assignations throughout that time and had completely forgotten that one episode with Neil.

Jerry's declaration that he and I were gay came during a particularly nasty altercation he had with Neil from junior high school. Neil and I had met that one time to relieve his hormonal urges. Neil was straight, at least that was what he told himself, and our session in the shower room was nothing more than getting off for him. For me when we were in junior high, I had fantasies of Neil and me attending the same college and being roommates. Now in high school right in front of me, Jerry had propositioned Neil with the offer to blow him after football practice and was flatly refused. The two of them were dressed in nothing but jock straps before heading to the showers. Despite his rejection, Neil did not back off but stared at Jerry's crotch. Soon both pouches were straining with growing erections. I suspect that Neil would have agreed to have his cock sucked if Jerry had been a bit more circumspect. Jerry was not coy or bashful about going after a guy if he had any inkling that his target would acquiesce, and Neil's lengthening cock gave Jerry all the encouragement he needed. What Jerry and I failed to see, but Neil did, was that two other football players were in earshot of the pair though neither could see Neil's hard rod. Jerry and Neil began verbally fighting about Neil being a closet gay referring to what I had told Jerry and the fantasies I had about Neil, supposedly in confidence. Jerry was not going to back down and their argument soon became physical. Jerry held his own at the beginning in the brief altercation. which was broken up by the coach. The assembled teammates who had gathered and taken sides melted away. The coach wanted to know why the pair had fought, but neither Jerry nor Neil gave him the real reason. Jerry did not want to be kicked off the team for being gay and Neil did not want to have to admit he was turned on by Jerry's proposal. Naturally, Neil acted the way he did that day because he needed to prove his heterosexuality to the assembled team. As soon as the coach returned to his office, the other players gathered around the pair. As far as the team was concerned, Jerry and I were two fag boys which did not faze them much, but Neil, that was a different story. When the two antagonists again tangled, the physical altercation lasted just a few minutes before Neil was sitting on Jerry's hips and pinning his arms. As Neil slapped Jerry repeatedly, Jerry worked one hand free enough to rub fingers across Neil's exposed hole. Neil reacted by smashing his closed fist into Jerry's nose before rising quickly to his feet. As soon as he spat out that he was sure Jerry and I were fuck buddies, the attention immediately swung from the fight to Jerry and me.

Jerry calmly looked the assemblage in the eyes and affirmed that he and I fucked like rabbits. There was a momentary silence before all hell broke. Being thought of as a fag was almost acceptable, but two guys fucking was way beyond cool. Most of the students shouted epitaphs they had learned in Sunday school about homosexuality being abhorrent and sinful. A few of the more liberal-minded students stood up for Jerry and me saying it was none of anyone's goddamn business what we did in the privacy of wherever we met.

Until that moment, I had struggled with my sexuality and the religious tenets I had grown up with even though Jerry and I were fucking regularly as Neil had asserted. While neither of my parents was a religious zealot, we faithfully attended Bible school, services, and every one of the vigils, prayer sessions, and any other event Pastor Mordecai Ham Truett dreamed up. As I grew older, I discovered that our pastor was a cousin of George Washington Truett. _The older Truett became pastor of the First Baptist Church in Dallas in September 1897, a position he held until his death in 1944. Truett was president of the Southern Baptist Convention from 1927 to 1929 and of the Baptist World Alliance from 1934 to 1939. During World War I he was appointed by President Woodrow Wilson. One of Truett's most famous sermons, Baptists and Religious Liberty was delivered on the steps of the Capitol in Washington on May 16, 1920. In this sermon he claimed that the United States was founded on the principles of religious freedom and separation of church and state._ _5_

The Truett I was familiar with had been named after another famous Baptist, Mordecai Ham. Mordecai Fowler Ham _had a reputation for racism and anti-Semitism. He believed and preached on various topics based on classical anti-Semitic canards such as believing Jews had special access to political power and influence and that they represent a subversive social force. The targets of his preaching were often "nebulous rings of Jewish, Catholic or Black conspirators plotting to destroy white protestant America."_ _6_

My pastor whole-heartedly espoused the tenets of Mordecai's interpretation of the world and derided the view of America held by George. My pastor believed the United States should be a theocratic democracy as long as the Baptists were in control. Listening to the sermons which always seemed to include references to "those" people, meaning Jews and all other Christian denominations, not to mention the Muslims, Hindus, Buddhists, and particularly gays and lesbians, I nodded my head and said amen as a child. When my mind finally grasped the concepts I was hearing and contrasted them with the world outside of our church, I began to mentally question the pastor and congregation.

So, when Jerry announced to the whole world that he and I were (gasp) fucking homos, I found myself not denying Neil's accusation or Jerry's declaration, which naturally, shocked the assemblage. In response to the uproar, I grabbed Jerry's hand and tried to pull him away. While he did not pull his hand out of mine, Jerry also did not allow himself to be led away. Apparently, this was Jerry's Waterloo and he was determined to be the victor. Anger boiled beneath the surface, but Jerry verbally, rather than physically, attacked the "Christians" who were now over their shock. The devotees of Old Testament Biblical passages and New Testament references to homosexuality would not be dissuaded. One of the more eloquent detractors quoted Leviticus 18:22, "[Men] shall not lie with a male as one lies with a female; it is an abomination". Another strict interpreter of the Biblical truth quoted Leviticus 20:13, "If there is a man who lies with a male as those who lie with a woman, both of them have committed a detestable act." A younger student parroted, "God's word says homosexuality is detestable and an abomination.

Surprisingly, Anthony not only stood in our defense physically, he also stood up to the majority with a standard retort, "The book of Leviticus also prohibits what you can eat, wear, and prescribes animal sacrifices". "Why do you disregard those rules, but spit out the ones about two people of the same sex loving each other?" For a moment, it looked like the fellow had stumped the zealots. No one doubted Anthony's sexuality. He had gotten his girlfriend pregnant and they were getting hitched as soon as they graduated. However, our apparent victory was short-lived as one of our teachers had heard the argument, entered the locker room and joined what now had become a theological debate.

Mr. Wheaton was a non-apologetic Southern Baptist who, even if Scripture did not support his view, uttered views as if God were speaking through him. Wheaton was not a Catholic but had been hired by the diocese because of his doctrinal stance. He was well suited to teach Catechism to all grades. I had spent many hours in his classroom either internally angry or fearful as he ranted. This time, Mr. Wheaton held his temper to make his point.

"The only rules of the Old Testament that apply to us today are the rules that are repeated in the New Testament. We do not live under the old law. We live under the new law of God. The New Testament says nothing about dietary restrictions or animal sacrifices, but it does repeat the commands about adultery, premarital sex, and homosexuality. In Romans 1:26-27, Paul said, 'For this reason God gave them over to degrading passions; for their women exchanged the natural function for that which is unnatural, and in the same way also the men abandoned the natural function of the woman and burned in their desire toward one another, men with men committing indecent acts and receiving in their own persons the due penalty of their error.'

Then Mr. Wheaton went a bit off track as he attacked the liberal view of gay marriage. "The New Testament also prohibits homosexual marriage by association. Jesus talked about this in Matthew 19. The Pharisees said, 'Is it lawful for a man to divorce his wife for any reason at all?'  
Jesus answered, 'Have you not read that He who created them from the beginning made them male and female, and said, 'For this reason a man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh'? So, they are no longer two, but one flesh. What therefore God has joined, let no man separate". Jesus was saying, "If you want to know the answer to the divorce question, then let us look at God's original plan for marriage. Genesis says marriage is one man with one woman for a lifetime." By affirming God's standard, Jesus was saying that any deviation from that standard–not just gay marriage but any deviation, such as adultery, premarital sex, or divorce–is sin because it doesn't measure up to the perfect standard of God. Jesus said marriage is one man with one woman for a lifetime. "

At that moment, neither Jerry nor I had entertained the thought of marrying one another. We just enjoyed getting our rocks off by hand or inside one another. If we had thought about it, Wheaton's words would not have dissuaded us. We both disliked the man and his class. Without being outwardly rude, Jerry had pulled on his clothes forsaking a shower during Wheaton's spiel.

Jerry knew that no matter what he and our few supporters said would now persuade the "true believers". Out maneuvered, but undefeated, by Mr. Wheaton, Jerry pulled me down the hall and out the door after Wheaton left. By the time we had reached the sidewalk, our small group had disappeared leaving just Jerry and me in the bright sunlight. In a moment of true belief, Jerry turned me to look into his eyes. His words still support me these many years since. "God loves us and no words from Mr. Wheaton or those bigoted parrots can change that. This bright sun shines over all of us, straight or gay." I was moved enough to take his face in my hands and give him a passionate kiss. It was broken by angry shouting from the school door. Rather than risk having his nose bleed again, Jerry took off with me in hot pursuit.

That moment of truth that God loves all people fortified me later that afternoon when I got home. The gossip hotline had already informed my Mom what had happened at school and out on the sidewalk. With sad, but determined eyes, she told me to go to my room, do my homework, and when Dad got home, we were to have a family discussion. Jerry's kiss and hug lingered in my mind giving me the strength to push away thoughts of what that discussion might sound like and I was able to buckle down and work on the English and math lessons we had been assigned. However, when I heard the familiar crunch of tires in the driveway and heard the front door open and close, schoolwork sat untended. I fidgeted in my room awaiting the dreaded summons. Minutes went by and I started to get antsy. What was taking my parents so long to call me down? As quietly as I could, I opened my bedroom door and crept to the top of the stairs.

Below there was a low hum of conversation going on between my parents. They were talking in hushed tones behind the kitchen door, so the words were indecipherable. I sighed with relief that whatever they were saying to each other, at least they were conversing and not yelling. My curiosity got the better of me and I headed down the stairs. I did not try to step gingerly on the few steps that emitted their familiar creak because I knew my parents would recognize the sound and know I was on my way downstairs.

My Mom opened the kitchen door and kissed my forehead as she usually did. I hated it when she did that in front of my friends, but at that moment, it was like absolution. I searched her face for the disdain and perhaps anger that I expected to see. She smiled in that particular way that told me she loved me no matter what. It was the same smile I always got when I did something foolish or hurt myself not being careful. Fortified with that maternal support, I looked at my Dad. His visage was neither upset nor pleased. I could not read his thoughts by looking at his countenance. It was a little unnerving since my father always seemed to wear his emotions on his sleeve. Mom ended the discomfort by gently telling me to have a seat.

As one might expect, Mom immediately said they loved me no matter what. The tears began to form in my eyes, and I began to bawl like a baby when my Dad followed it with his own declaration of love. After I got control of myself, my parents asked me what had happened at school and whether what Mom had heard was the truth. Since I knew the gossipers had probably spiced up their story to Mom, I wanted to be as honest and forthright with what happened. I told them Jerry and Neil had gotten into a fight when Jerry came on to him without going into detail. My parents did not pursue why the two had gotten into a fight which was fine with me. I was already on pins and needles knowing I was about to tell them I was gay. I certainly did not need to tell them Jerry wanted to suck cock. I admitted that additional students and Mr. Wheaton had become involved. My Dad asked if it was true I had been seen kissing Jerry. I admitted that and the fact that I was gay. There was a pregnant pause. I could tell my Dad was surprised, but Mom did not seem to be so. I waited for their verbal reaction and broke down in tears again when Mom said she had suspected I was gay, but it did not matter. She said I was their son and they loved me no matter what my sexuality. The rest of the discussion, which lasted through dinner and the rest of the evening, hashed out the fears my parents had for me being gay in the present and the future. When I finally hit the sack, I said a prayer of thanks I had two understanding and accepting parents. From that day forward, I was able to gain strength or comfort from them when life threw curve balls at me.

It did not take long before I needed them. The very next day I was attacked in the locker room by a group of guys and girls who had heard Mr. Wheaton the day before. The football team was still out on the field so Jerry was not there to help. The few boys in the locker room who were not part of the gang scurried out in all stages of dressing as they spied girls among the them. If I had not been so scared and worried for my safety, it would have been humorous seeing a few naked butts haphazardly clad in towels that slipped and fell scoop up their clothes and run through the door. If I had not been preoccupied with the possibility of imminent physical harm, I would have given some thought to those half naked boys trying to don their clothes in the hall with any number of gawkers. Any levity in the situation quickly dispersed as the gang surrounded me as I backed against the locker door I had just closed.

I did not see where the first punch came from. It was probably a godsend that I was not wearing my glasses at the time as they certainly would have broken. Unfortunately, not being pugilistic by nature, I was not able to fend off many of the punches. It only took about a half dozen punches to the head and face before I fell to the floor unconscious. I half came out of my stupor with each kick to my stomach and rib cage, then everything went dark and stayed that way until I came to in the hospital room. My parents were sitting at each side of the bed. When I opened my eyes, my Mom took my hand and started to cry which turned on my waterworks. Dad looked relieved. Eventually, we all calmed down and they asked me what had happened. I explained how I had been cornered and then blacked out. Dad said the football coach had found me and called the EMTs. Nothing was said about Jerry or the football team. It took a full week before the doctor let my parents check me out of the hospital. My convalescence would take another few weeks, and by the time I was physically ready to return to school, my parents told me that I would not be attending Bishop Moriarity for the final semester of my high school career.

My immediate reaction was to vehemently argue that I had to return for several reasons. It would be a difficult semester as it was and more so if I had to adjust to a new environment, teachers, and student body. I also demanded to know why I was the one who should suffer just because I was gay. Unsaid was the fact that I missed Jerry immensely. He seemed to have vanished from my life completely. My Dad patiently explained that he and my Mom knew that it would be a struggle at a new school, but there was no choice. Monsignor Gregory, the principal of Bishop Moriarity, had told my parents while I convalesced that I was not welcome to return. He claimed that my admission I was gay had upset the student body and faculty. The beating I had endured had been dealt with severely in general with a rant in a student assembly, but no legal action had been taken. None of the gang had been charged as no one had been present when the coach found me. The monsignor could not guarantee I would not be attacked again. I am sure my jaw dropped as my Dad continued to say that Jerry had also been expelled for causing a "situation" that led to my beating. Gregory felt that even if I asked for forgiveness and subjected myself to gay conversion treatment, I was too much a distraction and potential troublemaker. Through my tears, I asked if this meant that I would not graduate on time.

Mom gave me a huge hug and said that they had met with the principal of Forest Vale High in nearby Derbyton. Principal Deirdre Taylor was horrified by what had happened to me and immediately reassured my parents that I would be safe at Forest Vale. Dad was a bit skeptical until Ms. Taylor took my parents on a tour of the school. Dad's skepticism ended when they got to the gymnasium and a huge rainbow flag hung beside Old Glory. When they returned to the principal's office, Mom noticed a framed photo. It was easy to pick out Ms. Taylor and easy to see the way she was kissing another woman meant she was a lesbian.

Ms. Taylor was anxious for me to matriculate to Forest Vale as soon as possible so I would not get too far behind to graduate. When we met my first day at Forest Vale, I was instantly at ease with her and the young man she had chosen to be my mentor in the first week or so. My eyes nearly popped out when Jerry walked into the principal's office as my mentor. My parents had not told me that Jerry had gone to Forest Vale. It seemed that the horrible experience I had suffered had been a blessing in disguise. Suffice to say, that last semester of high school was wonderful. The students accepted me like a long-lost brother, the teachers all supported me in my studies, Jerry mentored me not only in school but also in our bedrooms, and my being gay was no longer a fear for my parents.

Jerry and I parted company the September following graduation. He was off to Bowdoin in Maine, and I was enrolled at Central State University. We tried to stay in touch, but whether by chance or design, we never hooked up again. The last I heard from his mother, Jerry had graduated from Bowdoin and had moved to San Francisco. I was sure he had immersed himself in the gay culture scene there and was probably fucking anything and everything with a cock.

While I had harbored thoughts of growing old with Jerry as a foolish high schooler, college opened my eyes to a wide world of experiences and guys. I must admit that I was a slut those four years. Very few of the guys I hooked up with were more than one-night stands. The absolute freedom my undergraduate years afforded me was not wasted sexually or academically.

Now as a graduate student in anthropology, I still looked like a nerdy middle schooler. I probably should have been upset not looking older like the other male students. They had that rugged masculinity one often associates with anthropology graduate students. There were certainly gay guys who did not look at me twice, probably fearing I was bait in some police sting, but I have to tell you that the vast majority of guys I hooked up with were after me simply because I looked years younger than I was. I am sure my visage and body were what attracted Trevor to me.

Trevor

Anathematixs on @DeviantArt 7

Trevor Whittier was a hypnotist, a conjurer who cast a spell I and almost all gay men were powerless to combat. He was a beautiful male who bewitched others in mind and body. The always carelessly coiffed hair, piercing blue eyes, and supple lips were the public display. It was the body that held sway over me even when we were not involved in sex. The perfect mix of muscle and strength without the bulk of a weightlifter, Trevor used his physique to entice and control me. He did not need more than his hard eight inches to bring me either torture or rapture depending on his mood.

Trevor held my heart in his hands from our first encounter and while he enslaved me with sex and attention, I never once felt anything but love for him. Looking back, I am amazed this man was able to dominate me to the extent that my rather prodigious intellect was unable to recognize the control Trevor had over me. Even now after choosing Sinaa and the Amazon over me, I find I cannot hold a negative epithet very long in describing the man. Perhaps some background will illuminate how Trevor influenced me and all the people and events that occurred on our Amazonian expedition.

Trevor was the only child and heir of the Whittiers' vast fortune and lineage. His father was already a third-generation explorer who used his familial wealth and prestige to seek out and investigate native populations as well as industrial and commercial rivals. The senior Whittier inculcated his progeny with a superiority complex that, less tempered by age and experience than his parent, drove Trevor to dominate people and events. Trevor was brought up to view inferior people as either implements or impediments to his preeminence in the classroom, in sports, and especially in relationships.

During our first months together, Trevor revealed a great deal about who he was behind the façade he employed in public. As a child, he was pampered and spoiled by his mother to the point he eschewed other kids his age as immature and childish. As a result, Trevor had only one good friend, the gardener, at his family's palatial estate in Palm Springs. The older man took Trevor under his wing and tempered the overbearing influence of Trevor's father. As Trevor talked in depth about Julio, I was both enraptured and horrified by the effect the man had on young Trevor. When Trevor was a youngster, Julio provided the emotional support absent from Trevor's own father. Julio was Trevor's rock when the senior Whittier expected too much of his young son. It was Julio who praised his protégé when Trevor returned with his report cards while his father demanded superior performance. Julio was the one who congratulated Trevor after his victories on the playing field rather than his father who dwelt on the mistakes Trevor and his teammates had made the few times his father made time to attend a game. Julio never attended the games, but always remembered to ask about them. Julio was the one who let the distraught youngster cry on his shoulder when Trevor's father berated or punished the boy for poor performance or when Trevor did not meet his father's expectations.

Trevor learned much about those who were less fortunate from the gardener. Unfortunately, the lessons of his youth were often submerged by Trevor's father's influence. On those rare occasions when the young Trevor had free time and Julio was done for the day, the older man took Trevor to his home. While Julio never uttered words to indicate the vast differences between Trevor's upbringing, wealth, and opportunities and the humble home, the boy easily saw that Julio's sons struggled with and juggled school studies and jobs. Trevor was shocked the first time he witnessed the eldest son, Arturo, dividing his wages and handing half to Julio. When Trevor confronted Julio with somewhat angry words about Julio taking away his son's earnings, Julio patiently explained that while Mr. Whittier was a steady and fair employer, the wages he paid Julio were not sufficient to support his family. Trevor learned a hard lesson from his own father when he asked why Julio was not paid more. The elder Whittier matter-of-factly stated that if Julio wanted higher wages, he could look elsewhere for a job. Trevor had to quickly assure his father that Julio had not asked him to inquire about a raise. Mr. Whittier admonished his son for interfering in a business matter and for having a sympathetic streak for people of a lower socio-economic status. Despite his father's harsh words, Trevor found ways to help his friend and his sons. None of the boys was shy in taking Trevor's cash and combining it with their earnings before giving Julio his share. Trevor had money to burn since it was his father's only way to show his affection. At first Julio asked why his sons' earnings had increased and got a variety of responses, then his youngest son told him what was happening. Julio was a proud man and considered returning all the money to Trevor. When he tried to end Trevor's largesse, the boy would not take it and when truth be told, the extra cash was needed in Julio's home. Trevor would not accept the man's gratitude for reasons I reveal later. Much later when Trevor was in college, Julio finally thanked him directly. Trevor's reaction was as one would expect – he waved away the gratitude. Unfortunately, the lessons of compassion and gratitude of his youth taught by Julio were often submerged by Trevor's father's influence.

At the age of fourteen, Trevor's identification as a gay teen was fortified by a clandestine relationship between Trevor and the forty-two-year-old gardener. It began with Trevor crying in Julio's arms after a particularly bad dressing down by Trevor's father. Julio could not help soothing the distraught boy with tender caresses and a kiss or two. It was Trevor who took things a step further. The boy had already seduced some of his classmates at school and knew how to wrap someone around his finger. At first Julio resisted, but Trevor was insistent and finally demanded Julio succumb at the risk of losing his job and being accused of being a sexual predator. Even as a teenager, Trevor knew how to get his way sexually with men. After that first time, threats were no longer needed until later. Julio, to his shock, found having sex with Trevor was titillating. Trevor often spoke of Julio fondly of their intimacy in those early years and what Julio had taught him in bed, in the greenhouse, in the wilds bordering the estate, and in a variety of vehicles. However, with the ascendancy of his own father's influence over an older Trevor, the sexual relationship with Julio metamorphized into the teen's domination of the older man. Trevor used blackmail and threats, as well as his body and mind, to control Julio. The power Trevor held over Julio would be honed by countless trysts with other teens and young men, including Julio's own sons. In some liaisons, Trevor used his beauty and refined sexual talents to enthrall weaker individuals. In others, he wielded the power of his wealth and influence to coerce sexual relations. For the life of me, I could not understand why Trevor did not make a connection between his behavior and lack of true friends. His relationship with Julio soured and despite the danger, Julio refused to have sex with Trevor after the gardener caught Trevor and Arturo in the midst of Trevor fucking his son. It was Arturo who begged Trevor not to retaliate against his father. None of the boys was averse to having sex with Trevor and if Julio had interfered, Arturo was sure Trevor would get the gardener fired. Julio, for his part, let Trevor have his way with his sons when none of them seemed to object having sex with Trevor. He really had no leg to stand on after his own sexual relationship with the "rich kid".

Portraits Practice by Scyao.deviantart.com on @DeviantArt 8

Arturo

One evening we were hanging out, Trevor brought up Julio's oldest son, Arturo, on one of the few times Trevor talked about his teen years. Of the sons, Arturo was the most athletic, intelligent, and nubile of the brothers. Trevor compared Arturo to the famous statue of David. Arturo's wavy, black hair was one of his attributes that Trevor liked the most. My cock rose within my jeans as Trevor related how he would wind his fingers through Arturo's hair and maneuver the youth into position for a mouth crushing kiss, or pull his head back while Trevor bare backed Arturo just like using reins to control a horse, or double-fisted to hold Arturo in position while Trevor's cock ravaged Arturo's throat.

I asked how long Trevor used Arturo knowing full well by that time that Arturo would never have gotten the upper hand or position. Trevor laughed uproariously and then when he had control, told me that he still used Arturo when on school break. My eyebrows went up which Trevor noticed. "Don't believe me?" queried Trevor. I said that it seemed a little far-fetched that Trevor would now bother with someone in Arturo's situation. Trevor chuckled and said that a hole was a hole and Arturo was a willing fuck. I asked why Arturo was still letting Trevor have his way. Matter-of-factly, Trevor said that Arturo had taken over for his father as the chief gardener. Arturo simply did not have any way of refusing if he wanted to keep his job. While I pondered that comment, Trevor jumped from the couch he was lounging on, grabbed his laptop, returned to sit, and patted the couch. Obediently, I got off my bed and plopped down next to Trevor.

Within seconds, Trevor had opened a file of images labeled "Arturo". Just as Trevor had said, the teen and now young man pictured was indeed as beautiful as David's statue. The unblemished skin was bronze in color, the hair black as an unilluminated void, the eyes a sultry deep brown, teeth as white as a new tee shirt, and a body nicely proportioned. My eyes widened when a photo showed a naked Arturo and saw a cock that must have been ten inches hard. I could not help asking if Trevor had ever been fucked by or deep throated that cock. Trevor smirked and said he would not willingly let Arturo do anything with that monster. Then after an evil laugh, Trevor told me that every time Arturo started to get hard, Trevor would squeeze Arturo's balls so hard that the poor guy would lose his erection. It was a perfect example of Trevor's need to be superior and in total control.

In any case, I continued to stare at the images of which there were many. Most were shots of Arturo being fucked or with his mouth on Trevor's familiar cock. It finally occurred to me that the camera had to be handled by someone else. Some angles were too tilted or multiple images taken in rapid succession during a particular plundering meant that someone was shooting the pictures. Trevor chuckled and said that he had Arturo's brother, Manuel, take the photos and when Trevor had sex with Manuel or Paulo, the other brother, one of the others would be the photographer. To prove his point, Trevor placed a finger on one photo of Trevor fucking Arturo in a standing position in front of a full-length mirror. It was not hard to make out the nearly identical visage and naked body visible in the mirror with a camera to his eye. Trevor identified the youth as Manuel. Then opening two more files, titled Manuel and Paulo respectively, I saw other photos where one of the brothers was holding the camera while Trevor had his way sexually. My cock rose despite my efforts to control it when a shot showed Paulo being fucked by Arturo with Trevor's cock down Paulo's throat. My gasp prompted Trevor to say that all the brothers were gay and often had sex with each other. He admitted that he often watched two of them go at it with each other before taking the third brother himself.

That got me thinking about how Trevor so effortlessly dominated the brothers and I wondered aloud if there was ever a time when Trevor was not in control. Trevor struggled for a minute and his face lost its perpetual smile. Quietly he admitted that there was one time when he was not in command. I gently prodded the story from him. My imagination ran beyond the words that Trevor uttered. Trevor was eighteen and had just gotten his acceptance letter to Central State University. The news was not what Mr. Whittier wanted to hear and he berated his son for not working harder to get into a more prestigious school. What Trevor had not told his father was that he had not applied anywhere else. He had completed the applications to Harvard, Stanford, and Yale, but had torn them up after his father reviewed and signed them. Trevor chuckled when he said that he had also pocketed the money his father had given him for the application fees. Whether it was a silent revolt against his father's authoritarian and snobbish approach to Trevor's ambitions or simply laziness, Trevor never admitted to me. In any case, the scolding Trevor got from his Dad prompted the son to escape to Julio's home. By the time he got there, Trevor had gotten control of his emotions, but not his superiority complex. He gathered the three brothers together in the old horse barn behind the house and announced he was going to university without mentioning the actual school. His brash, condescending tones got to the assembled brothers and in a shocking turn of events, the three tackled Trevor to the ground. While two brothers held Trevor down, the third ripped off Trevor's pants and underwear. Arturo, the strongest, pulled Trevor's hands together while Manuel tied one of the nag's reins around Trevor's wrists. With Paulo still sitting on Trevor's chest and Manuel on his upper legs, Arturo bound Trevor's feet together. With Trevor secured, the brothers pulled their captive over an upturned barrel and before Trevor could react, Arturo's ten-inch cock forced itself into Trevor's unprepared hole. Trevor admitted to me in that rare honest moment that he fainted dead away from the pain. When he came to, Manuel's cock had replaced Arturo's. There was little pain at that point because Manuel's, and then Paulo's cocks were much smaller, and Arturo had opened Trevor's ass completely. By the end of the related tale, there were tears glistening in Trevor's eyes. It was the first time I had seen him emotionally moved. I suspected there was more to the story that Trevor had reservations telling, but I did not pursue it. I asked what Trevor did after he had been raped. With an evil gleam in his eyes, Trevor related he got his revenge on each brother by raping them separately in the ensuing weeks. He did not have to tell me the attacks were probably as savage, if not more, than the rape Trevor had endured.

In a return to his usual self, Trevor lightly punched me on the arm, which hurt more than I would admit to him. There was more bravado in his voice as he told me that he, in fact, fucked the three brothers every time he went home. Dependent on Trevor's threats to have Arturo fired if any of them protested, the three brothers continued to let Trevor have his way. By then, Julio held no interest sexually for Trevor, but the three brothers were a different story. We spent another hour or so, drinking and me listening to Trevor's vacation conquests when he had the "misfortune" of being home rather than aboard his father's yacht, sans father, or at one of the vacation homes the Whittier's owned around the world.

It was at the house on St. Johns in the Virgin Islands (a misnomer when Trevor was present) on the one and only time Trevor took me with him that I personally witnessed Trevor's violent side. I had been lounging by the pool when I heard cries from the master bedroom overlooking the pool. Wrapping a towel around my naked waist (Trevor always required swimming and sunbathing in the nude), I ran to the bedroom. I was half-way up the stairs to the second floor when there was a single scream and then silence. One of the maids was at the head of the stairs. Her look begged me to intervene, but I had already decided I had to see what was going on. I took the remaining steps two at a time believing that Trevor was in trouble. That was farthest from the truth as I burst into the bedroom and saw Trevor beating a naked, now unconscious, guy. Trevor was in a rage and it took all my strength to pull him away from the bloodied victim. I am certain that I was only able to subdue Trevor because he was exhausted from pummeling the young man. When Trevor calmed down, I released him and demanded to know why he had bludgeoned the guy. Trevor shrugged and said that the scum deserved it. The guy liked being tied up when he got fucked and Trevor had obliged. After Trevor had unloaded in the guy's ass without protection, the guy waited until he was untied to demand money, or he would go to the authorities. He had lied to Trevor about his age and now threatened to turn Trevor in for statutory rape. Hearing that, I looked at the guy and it was clear he was not of age from the lack of body hair and on his face that I could see despite the blood. If I had to guess, I pegged the kid's age at sixteen. Fucking an underage kid was bad enough, but when Trevor still refused to pay, the kid said he had AIDS. Trevor went ballistic and attacked the youth. Although I was shocked by Trevor's violence, I helped carry the guy out to the minivan as Trevor instructed. I became an accomplice to the crime by not calling the police and by helping Trevor to remove the body. I still occasionally have nightmares about that day, but Trevor was still not under control and I did fear for my own safety. Trevor returned to the master bedroom, showered, dressed, and then drove off. I washed the blood off my naked body from carrying the guy and waited for Trevor's return.

With the usual smile on his face, Trevor returned hours later. He joined me out at the pool where I had gone after being bored waiting for him, stripped off his clothing, and dove into the pool as if nothing had happened. Despite my curiosity, I waited for him to finish doing laps. As usual, my cock reacted when Trevor walked up the pool stairs revealing his chiseled torso and generous cock. He winked and asked if my excitement meant he should take me right there on the pool deck. I mentally cursed my misbehaving rod and said I was ready anytime, but I had a few questions first. Trevor explained that he dumped the guy off around the corner from the hospital. There was never any mention in the newspapers I scanned or radio of the kid, so I could only assume that he survived and slunk off somewhere to recuperate without going into the hospital. How the kid survived after the physical abuse he endured by Trevor's pummeling without medical aid; I could not imagine. Had the poor teen been anyone other than a homeless wastrel, that episode would have landed Trevor in jail for a good many years. I did ask what had taken him so long and he admitted that he had gone to the AIDs clinic after dumping the guy off. The teen's threat he had AIDs had unnerved Trevor enough to warrant being tested. When he had finished, he flopped down on the chaise lounge beside me and closed his eyes. I knew he was not going to discuss what had transpired in the bedroom, but I was unwilling to let it go. While he was gone, I had done some soul-searching and concluded that I was afraid of Trevor. Would there be a repeat of what I had seen with me the victim? With some trepidation, I admitted my concern. Trevor listened without commenting until I was done. His words were so sincere and by the time he finished, my fears were assuaged.

For a few days, our vacation in paradise was clouded waiting for the test results. Trevor refused to have any sex with me during this time. That did not stop him from picking up other guys. I argued futilely that he was endangering the guys, but Trevor ignored me. When he had had enough of my entreaties, he simply said that he was a Whittier and intended to do as he wanted. If he had AIDs and gave it to someone other than me, then so be it. After all, those guys just wanted sex and Trevor did not care what he did was wrong. We celebrated with an exorbitantly expensive bottle of Dom Perignon and a round of sex that left me hobbling the next day when his test result came back negative.

Trevor never treated me too roughly, laid a hand on me in anger, or made me fearful for my safety. So, I took it as a sign that what Trevor and I had was much more than another notch in Trevor's sexual conquest belt. Sure, there was the sex, which Trevor always initiated, and I always conceded to, but we also spent countless hours exploring our relationship and confiding in one another. Sexually, Trevor was the dominant partner, but in many ways, I was the rock he clung to when Trevor found himself adrift. His need for my unconditional affection and attention gave me power over Trevor that no one, other than Sinaa, had ever gained. The object of my affection was certainly an enigma.

i-vector-drawing-portraits-realistic-material-19587 9

Alastar Byrnes

Like so many introductory courses, Trevor and I were just two of at least a hundred students filling the large lecture hall dominated by Alastar Byrne. The professor looked like a miniature human from my vantage point far back in the auditorium. Luckily, the administration had the foresight to equip the professor with a quality microphone and speaker system. His voice carried clearly to the furthest reaches of the hall. Two large viewing screens flanked his lectern. On one, the professor's notes and teaching aids showed what my squinting eyes could not see looking at the originals on the numerous white boards at the front of the auditorium. On the other screen, the professor's face and body were projected. I must admit that my attention was directed to that screen more than the other. Professor Alastar Byrne was not your typical dried up academic. Professor Byrne, who Trevor and I would eventually call just Al, was easy to cast an eye on.

Al was just over six feet tall with a head of stylishly coifed dark chocolate-hued hair. The smooth skin of his visage was unblemished by the rigors of working outdoors in the field, though there was the hint of a facial hair under his patrician nose. The sensual mouth above his square-shaped jaw looked like a frown when he was relaxed, but when he smiled, the whole hall seemed to light up. The fitted pullover sweater did nothing to hide the bulge of powerful biceps. The material across his pectorals did not camouflage the expanse of a broad chest. It did not take much imagination to envision that his generous chest tapered to a narrow waist likely above washboard abs. I was a bit disappointed not to view a prominent bulge beneath his chinos when he moved away from the lectern.

Trevor would later relate the woeful tale of his attempt to seduce Al the very next weekend. Just the fact that Trevor had failed in wooing any male to his bed made me perk up with interest. The fact that it was also our professor only increased my curiosity. We had learned that Al rebuffed the advances of the young coeds and did not have a significant other in his life, either female or male. That knowledge provided Trevor with enough nerve to make a pass at Al during a party held at a local bar that I was unable to attend. According to Trevor, Al and he were tightly encased by other students on the curved booth bench blocked by a table laden with dead soldiers. Trevor had imbibed much more than his share of the beer bottles that appeared. Although inebriated, Trevor's libido prompted him to take Al's head in both hands, turn his face, and without hesitation plant his mouth on Al's. Of course, all the students around began catcalling. Al did not flinch from the kiss but moved his hands up to release himself from Trevor's grasp. In a professorial tone, Al calmly told Trevor he was not interested. With apologies to the others, Al made the students to his right let him out. Trevor hung his head only as long as it took for Al to depart. Then, as if nothing had happened, Trevor tried to make out with the guy on his left who made no protests and wholeheartedly succumb to Trevor's advances to the point that the other students told them to get a room which the pair gladly did.

I continued to stare at Al throughout the lecture. His legs strained the material making my dick jump thinking of those legs wrapped around me. I stifled the groan that tried to escape my mouth. At least I thought at first that my groan was inaudible. A tap on my shoulder made me turn my head. When my sight met Trevor's beautiful blue eyes, he smiled. In a whisper, Trevor cautioned me to control myself. His mouth turned into a grin that focused my attention on his succulent lips. The grin widened to a broad smile that revealed his perfect teeth. Trevor would later tell me how he hated the braces he barely endured through his teen years. I had to force myself to turn away, but quickly whispered I was sorry for disturbing him. A pat on my shoulder to assure me everything was fine seemed to burn through the thin, cotton polo I wore. It was nearly impossible to concentrate on Professor Byrne from that point on. My ears were attuned to any sounds directly behind me. My imagination was racing with the brief memories of the hunk's countenance. The swept-back wave of soft, dirty blond hair; the two sapphire orbs beneath neatly trimmed eyebrows; the strong jaw covered with hint of a beard and mustache; but most of all the supple lips all kept my mind occupied. I slouched down in the seat to hide my growing erection under the desk armrest over my groin.

Eventually, Professor Byrne brought me out of my reverie by launching into the material with such vigor and evident enamor that I was swept along in his ardor. Although my mind was now attuned to the front of the room, a small part concentrated on the man behind me. I probably had no chance in hell that he and I would connect. All my life, my extreme youthful appearance had turned off potential lovers. Until a guy got to know me and I could prove my age, they ran fearing I was jailbait. The man behind me was a god and I but a lowly mortal, but I had learned the hard way in high school that reticence never leads to happy endings.

##

Gordon was the most beautiful guy in the last semester of my senior year at Forest Vale High. Although gay, he was the center of attention of the female students. His gorgeous body and generous personality made all the girls want to be seen on his arm. That gave all the guys, gay and straight, a reason to gawk. The straight guys, although primarily interested in the girl on Gordon's arm, could not help but notice the fine, chiseled features of Gordon's body. The queers, like me, saw nothing in our minds but the perfect swimmer's body that tapered to his well filled bathing suit. I am sure the queers had the same daydreams I did about Gordon removing his skimpy Speedo. I would learn that despite his flawless physique, for Gordon, the benefits of being the center of attention were often outweighed by the loneliness of private, rather than public, adulation. He enjoyed the attention of the girls and guys, but at night alone in his room, he craved having one man who wanted him not for his looks, but for all of him. Of course, I would not have known any of Gordon's deepest desires if it had not been for my inadvertent dismissal of Gordon.

As a nerd, without the looks and body, I recognized that I, of all the boys in my class, had the least chance of catching Gordon's eye. It was unthinkable that I would ever get to touch my lips to Gordon's luscious lips or embrace his lean, lithe form. My unruly hair, my too wide nose, the crooked teeth, and my less than perfect body all conspired in my mind to relegate me to the furthest periphery of Gordon's aura. If Gordon was the sun, I was but a speck of dust on the far side of Pluto. So, it came as a complete shock when Gordon stood in front of me in the locker room one day.

I had just come off the pool deck after the swim coach had dressed us down good for not performing up to par. Gordon on the diving platform was not a victim of the coach's tongue lashing. As a diver, Gordon was flawless in both form and physique. It was the relay team, of which I was a member, that incurred the coach's wrath. In the locker room with my head in my hands, I was struggling to hold back the tears of mortification and despair. Every word in the coach's tirade seemed to be directed to me. As the weakest member of the relay, every practice and meet were a struggle for me, but sheer fortitude and grit kept me from quitting. Swimming was the only sport I had any aptitude for. It was important, not only for the exercise, but also for the chance to attend Central State University. The coach, that day, had been right to dress us down. The four of us had not given our best. The entire relay team knew the ultimate goal was winning the state championship. That trophy would open the floodgates of collegiate athletic scholarships. So, my consternation as I considered the coach's words was close to overwhelming me when I felt a warm hand touch my shoulder.

When I looked up warm, strong hands embraced the sides of my head and I did not pull away as Gordon gently encouraged me to look at him. My eyes traveled from the well-formed feet up the muscular lower legs. A small, threadbare white towel encased the powerful thighs and ample package that appeared to be growing before me. The narrow waist that held the towel in place soon gave way to the six-pack abs. The journey of my sight continued to the firm pectorals unblemished except for two dark, erect nipples. I was not surprised when my eyes looked at Gordon's face. His body had already been indelibly marked in my memory from the countless times I had seen him on the diving board and pool deck.

The brilliant emerald eyes looked down at me with compassion. They were offset by the curl of a smile. It was then that I noticed the silence. In my misery, I had not heard the departure of the rest of my teammates. Gordon and I were alone in the locker room. Knowing we were the only two guys in the locker room emboldened me to not avert my gaze first from Gordon's face and then travel down to his scantily clad groin. The confines of my Speedo soon stretched as my cock hardened. My hands quickly flew to cover my erection. A quick glance of Gordon's eyes to my crotch caused blood rushing to my face in embarrassment.

The words I never imagined being uttered came from Gordon's perfect lips. "There's no need to hide yourself from me. I know how you have been watching me and I know you want me," the stud said softly. My mind battled between the growing lust I felt and the need to deflect those feelings. Gordon made no effort to hide that he was gay. I was struggling more with my own insecurity as Gordon awaited my reply. Gordon could get away with his overt homosexuality because no one dared confront him. He was powerful in both body and stature in the school. I was a nerd without the brawn and courage to stand up for myself. Finally, in a voice cracking with timidity, I affirmed that Gordon was more than I could ever hope for.

With one hand cupping my chin to keep my eyes on his, Gordon's other hand reached down and landed on the bulge of my Speedo. I felt my cock pulse with desire, and I was unable to stifle the moan that caused Gordon's lips to widen into a broad smile. There was no doubt in his mind at that moment that I was now at his mercy. Rather than be intimidated and not caring that my secret desire had been revealed, I moaned again as his finger caressed the outline of my cock. His ministrations brought a flow of pre-cum from my tip that wet the stretched fabric of my suit.

I nearly came as Gordon rubbed the wet spot and swirled a finger over my engorged head, then brought his dampened digit to his nose. Satisfied with the smell, I watched as Gordon sucked his finger between his rosy, plump lips. I groaned aloud unconcerned for the lust Gordon had elicited from me. I whispered, "Oh my God", when Gordon released my chin and unfurled the towel from his waist. His cock sprang from its confines and slapped against his skin above the mat of golden hair that was carefully groomed around the perfectly shaped tool I had only imagined. I noted his shaved, smooth sack was tight. No fool, I instinctively knew I had to take that cock into my mouth. Gordon encouraged my first taste of his cock by pushing down on his rod lining it up with my lips.

We both started slow as I got used to his cock in my mouth. When I inadvertently scraped the tender skin, Gordon reminded me to cover my teeth. I had had enough experience sucking cock to know that, but this god before me completely wiped out rational thought. Slowly, he worked his rod deeper into my mouth. When his tip gagged me, Gordon pulled back only enough to stop my reaction, then began the descent into my throat. Willing my throat to relax his rod went deeper than I thought possible. My mouth filled with saliva and Gordon's slippery juices made the thrusts of his hard cock down my throat easy to take. When his hands grabbed at my head and his thrusts became more insistent, I did not back away. Instead my own hands grabbed his firm buttocks and pulled his groin against my face. His pubes mashed my face and his balls slapped my chin as he rutted down my throat.

I felt Gordon shudder and waited for a rush of cum down my throat. I groaned loudly as Gordon pushed back slipping from my hands and pulling his cock out of my mouth. Before I could protest, Gordon said that he wanted all of me, but remaining in the locker room would not be good for either of us. The coach probably knew we both were gay but having sex in his locker room would not be okay. I glanced down and saw the front of my Speedo saturated in my own juices. He was correct that even if we were not caught in the act, the slimy shine on my Speedo would certainly raise eyebrows. With a smile, Gordon helped me to my feet and led me by the hand to the shower room. I did not move away as Gordon adjusted the stream and heat of one shower head. I could not tear my eyes away from his perfect body and still hard cock.

When he was satisfied with the temperature, Gordon turned and moved in front of me. I watched as his fingers reached into the front of my suit. His fingers were warm from the water. Nimble fingers quickly untied the string and I stood still as Gordon pulled the waistband away from my still-hard rod. My skin tingled as his hands pulled the suit from my waist and down my thighs. Instead of letting the suit fall to the floor, Gordon continued to draw it down my legs as he fell to his knees. Despite his prior warning, Gordon had decided that he was not going to wait to taste my juice and swept his tongue along my straining length. He did not ask, but I figured come hell or high water, I was not going to stop him just because we might get caught.

Steam billowed from the streaming shower head. Perspiration and water droplets coated my skin heating me externally as Gordon's hot mouth engulfed my cock sending shock waves and heat through my innards. The heat from his soft, wet mouth quickly overwhelmed me and I felt my legs quiver. Strong hands grabbed the back of my thighs to steady me. Gaining my equilibrium, I stood still as Gordon worshiped my dripping cock. The hands that had gripped my legs moved to my buttocks. Although my eyes were closed and I could not see what Gordon was doing, my brain registered the gentle tugging of my ass cheeks apart. I nearly jumped out of my skin when Gordon's digit swept across the puckered skin of my hole. I was not inexperienced in being fucked since Jerry and I had been going at it for a while, but I had not expected Gordon's probing. That finger unleashed a torrent of cum into Gordon's mouth despite my desire to stretch the time as long as I could. He took every spurt and drop without removing his lips from my crown. I wobbled on unsteady legs, but Gordon's hands on my hips kept me upright. When I could stand without support, one hand stayed on my hip and the other moved across my ass cheek to again explore my hole. His mouth once again took my flaccid cock and had it rising again in no time.

Gordon was encouraged to go deeper inside me as my feet shuffled apart and an audible moan escaped my mouth. The sucking continued on my sensitive rod as Gordon pressed his finger into my chute. I felt no pain as his finger pushed through the muscle and massaged my channel. Whether it was lust or the warmth of the water, I was loose and ready to take his digits. I murmured, "Don't stop!" Gordon chuckled right after his mouth released my cock. "Like that, Mark," he foolishly asked? He got his answer when my hand grabbed his hand laid on my butt cheek and moved it back to my crack. Another chuckle escaped Gordon just before his mouth retook my cock and two fingers entered my hole.

When his foreplay was completed, I made no protest as Gordon pushed away from me, stood up, and turned me toward the shower wall. Without a thought, I got into position placing my hands against the glistening tile, bending at the knees and spreading my legs. Gordon had prepared me so well that there was only the slightest sting as his ample cock pierced my ring. Within seconds, I had to brace myself against the onslaught of his cock pounding my ass. I was so far gone mentally that I gave no thought to the fact Gordon was bare backing me and my ass was being plundered. Jerry and I always fucked with protection. I had no idea if Gordon was safe or not. I would not give that a thought until after Gordon's onslaught of my hole. Even if I had been able to concentrate on what was happening at my rear, the firm grasp and constant stroking by Gordon's hand on my sensitive rod swept away coherent thought. Gordon was such an accomplished stroker that my second climax did not happen until I felt his rod ram deep into me. Just before I came in a rush of cum that coated the shower room wall, I felt my chute fill with Gordon's juice.

His rod remained hard as he milked the last of my cum from my rapidly shrinking cock. I could only nod my head when Gordon asked if I liked being fucked. Again, he chuckled and then I felt the now familiar cock again stroking my chute. Gordon was ready for another go at my ass and I was not about to complain. I could not take his hand on my super sensitive cock again, but that freed Gordon's two hands to grab my shoulders. This time, he savagely attacked my hole with his rod, but I felt no pain. I regretted the double fucking later that night, but in the shower room all I felt was utter satisfaction. Gordon's second ejaculation was less explosive, but as he pulled out, I felt his juice escape my hole and run down the inside of my thighs. With a quick slap of my ass, Gordon stepped into the spray. He did not seem to mind the detritus of my ass and washed quickly. Moving away from the shower head, Gordon told me to wash and hurry to get dressed. We had already taken far too long leaving the locker room. Other than a hasty "see you around", Gordon made no mention of our encounter as he departed the shower room. When I had cleaned up and returned to the locker room, Gordon had already gone. I was left behind pondering what had transpired and whether the stud and I would have another tryst.

As it turned out, Gordon and I fucked two more times until he set eyes on another guy. As suddenly as it had begun, Gordon was no longer interested in me. I am certain that he had moved on not because I was not a good lay, but because I could not commit to him. I was too smitten with Jerry to discard him for Gordon. Gordon told me he wanted more than just a fuck buddy and as much as I loved Gordon's cock inside me, I was not willing to let Jerry go. I did not feel any guilt having sex with Gordon which surprised me, but I knew Jerry would love me even if he found out. Besides, he had no right to ask me to be monogamous as I knew Jerry was fucking other guys. I had been used (willingly) and discarded by Gordon. Knowing full well that I had no chance of persuading Gordon to agree to another liaison after our last hookup, I made up my mind to be faithful to Jerry. My resolve lasted only a short time and by the end of my senior year, I had left my neophyte status in sex and a single partner behind. I had Gordon to thank for that. What Jerry and I had was special, but his refusal to only have sex with me gave me the green light to be as promiscuous as he was.

##

My mind returned to the present as a cacophony of closing theme books and rising students invaded my reverie. It was the wet feeling in my briefs that alerted me to the fact my recollection had occupied the remainder of Professor Byrne's lecture. As I stood to depart, I thanked my lucky stars I had worn dark blue cargo pants. The bulky, loose fabric had not soaked up my juices from my briefs. My relief would be short-lived when Trevor later pulled those pants down and lapped at the wet spot on my briefs chuckling to himself. Rather than be mortified, I lied and told Trevor he was the cause of my drooling cock. He did not have to know about my memories of Gordon.

When class ended, Trevor fell in step with me. Gallantly, he held the door to let me through. With the memory of past encounters rolling through my head, I accepted his attention. I was not sure why this stud had any interest in me, but I was experienced enough to know I would take what he gave. It had been weeks since I had been fucked. Trevor might be a short-term deal like Gordon, but I did not care in the least at that moment.

Neither of us had class until late in the afternoon, so we wandered over to the commissary. Over a couple of lattes, we got to know each other well enough that when Trevor suggested we go to his room, I was comfortable in his company and ready for sex. I suspected from the way Trevor kept looking at me over our lattes that he felt the same way, though I still did not understand why he would be interested in me. I would learn over time why Trevor pursued me, but as he threw me onto his bed and yanked my cargo pants to my ankles, I did not have any coherent thoughts. This gorgeous man with sparkling, lust-filled eyes made me the center of his world at that moment. He did not take much time lapping and sucking my wet briefs before sliding them down my legs and his mouth wrapped around my swollen cock. Trevor took me almost to a climax before he pulled off and raised my legs. His tongue swirled around my puckered hole before pushing in. It was not long before his fingers replaced his tongue and I made no protest when Trevor moved to enter me. I was too far gone to stop him, though his entry was delayed only as long as it took for him to sheathe his tool at my insistence. It was the only time he acquiesced to that demand. I was under his spell from that first fucking and would not be released until the last day I saw him standing at the base of a huge kapok tree with his arm around Sinaa's shoulders. Shortly after our first assignation, we moved in together. I was in ecstasy believing Trevor wanted me above all the other gay guys. He would soon show me that my assumption could not have been further from the truth.

Graduate Students

I was smitten by Trevor from that first afternoon we shared his bed and remained so throughout our graduate studies. Our relationship as roommates in grad school continued to grow into what I now know was a one-sided infatuation instead of a meaningful love affair. I just could not get enough of the comely man who shared our small apartment, a passion for anthropology, and the mind-blowing sex. Trevor never let on that he was stringing me along the entire time. Perhaps that judgment is too harsh, but in hindsight now that he is not with me, I see much more clearly how Trevor used me. In retrospect, he used me just as he had used Julio and every other conquest, though the times he needed me seemed to counter-balance our relationship at the time.

I did not think much about the constant requests to copy my class notes, the papers I wrote for him, nor the many times Trevor copied my test answers. I did not even take offense when Trevor took someone else to bed, though I cannot say I was happy. His tearful apologies when I did catch him fucking another guy, for not taking his studies seriously, and his protestations that I was the only man he loved seemed to sweep away any rational responses on my part. In truth, I deluded myself and let Trevor persuade me that I was the center of his world. The adage, "Love is blind," certainly applied to me at that time.

##

There was one time that almost tore apart our relationship, but in the end, I blamed myself rather than censure Trevor. After all, Trevor had come to me asking me to consider having a three-way with one of his undergraduate students. At first, I was uncomfortable with the idea, but Trevor worked on my resistance over the course of a month. When I finally relented, one would have thought I gave Trevor the moon and it was the next day that he arranged our ménage à trois with Adrian.

I felt like the ugly duckling as the two gorgeous hunks ripped off their clothing. Adrian was as scrumptious as Trevor in appearance and cock. The two of them reminded me of Greek statuary and my unease baring my body increased until both naked men began their attack. My unbuttoned jeans were soon bunched at my ankles. At Trevor's request, I had gone commando, so my cock sprang from the confines of the jeans. Adrian fell to his knees, grabbed by cock by the base, and his tongue swiped at the bead of pre-cum that graced my tip. Trevor let Adrian swallow my cock a brief few minutes before he gripped my biceps and pushed me to the bed. I was powerless to stop them physically and mentally. As my back landed on the mattress, Adrian's mouth immediately reattached itself to my cock and sucked as Trevor roughly removed the rest of my clothing.

Stripped and lost in Adrian's worship of my cock, Trevor's mouth clamped onto mine as his fingers combed through my hair. His tongue slid between my lips and deep into my mouth. Adrian's lips came off my cock and I felt him lap the sensitive skin on my inner thighs until he returned to my cock. His tongue left a wet trail to my smooth shaved pubes. I began to squirm under the onslaught and tried to pull off Trevor's mouth to protest. Trevor released the lock on my mouth and held my head in both hands.

"You will settle down and you will like everything we do to you. Do you understand, Mark," Trevor stated? I nodded. The look in Trevor's eyes caused me to shudder and I was suddenly fearful. Trevor recognized my anxiety and smiled. The return of the familiar twinkle in his eyes calmed me. I let myself surrender to Trevor. In doing so, I gave tacit approval for Adrian to resume his ministrations. I closed my eyes and concentrated on the mouths, tongues, and occasionally teeth that caressed and nipped my skin and cock. Succumbing to Trevor's will and the undeniable pleasure of oral stimulation, I made no further protests. Trevor and Adrian took turns at my mouth and on my cock. I closed my eyes to savor the feelings.

Trevor jumped on my chest and straddled me. My eyes flew open when I felt the silk band encircle my wrist. His strong hands kept my wrists in place as Adrian bound one wrist with a silk tie to the brass headboard. I yelled out to stop but was quickly muzzled by Trevor's now freed hand clamped over my lips. Adrian quickly moved to the other side of the bed and secured my free wrist. Trevor continued to hold me down and muffled my protests with his hand. Adrian moved toward my head with two more silk ties in his hand. The first was stuffed into my mouth. My eyes pleaded with Trevor to release me. I no longer wanted to play this game. When I looked into his eyes, they were no longer smiling. The predator wanted his meat. The last thing I saw was the red-striped, blue tie closing in on my eyes.

My nose caught the scent of the poppers as one of the men brought the bottle to my nostrils. I tried to squirm but was still held down by Trevor's powerful ass and legs. My mind screamed to remind Trevor that poppers strongly affected my ability to control my muscles and thoughts. I must have screamed aloud behind the gag because Trevor leaned into my ear and harshly told me to relax. He promised that no harm would come to me and that what he and Adrian had planned for me would blow my mind.

By the time I felt fingers in my ass, I was already too far gone to care. The poppers had turned me into a sex toy unable to stop the onslaught or even protest. The cold lubricant quickly warmed as fingers circled my sphincter and pushed through. As the digits worked at and stretched my hole, the familiar, insistent need to be fucked preempted any rationality I had left. Trevor had crawled off me by then and I indicated I wanted to be fucked by raising my legs to expose my hole. Laughter filled the room. I did not have any idea which hard, thick cock entered my ass until Trevor's familiar rod replaced the gag in my mouth. Adrian's eight inches were fucking me, and I did not even know if he had pulled a condom on before plunging his ample cock into my gaping hole. In truth, by that time I did not give a rat's ass.

The activity at both orifices rose as the two men plundered my mouth and ass. At first it was a thrashing mess until they got synchronized. Then, both cocks plunged in and withdrew like a well-oiled machine. I felt my upper body and head being mashed into the mattress as the cocks strove deeper. My legs were draped over Adrian's shoulders and he held them in place as our perspiration slicked my legs and his shoulders. Suddenly, all motion ceased as two cocks spewed ropes of cum down my throat and into my channel. I could do nothing to stop the cum from leaving my hole as the cock began moving slowly in and out again. I strained to suck down every drop of cum that shot from the cock in my mouth.

I expected to be released so the two of them could fuck, but the two studs had other plans. With my tongue still straining to lick cum off Trevor's cock, he told Adrian to switch places. Trevor pulled away at the same time Adrian withdrew. Within seconds, a cock was back in my hole and another was trying to enter my mouth. The odor of cum and ass juice filled my nostrils and I clamped my lips together. Sucking cock after it had been up anyone's ass, including my own, was not my thing. Two powerful hands pried my jaw apart and I was powerless to stop the cock from entering my mouth. I tried to move my head away, but Adrian's hands held my head in place. I could tell it was Adrian by the calloused hands that held my head. He began to deep throat me as I gagged over and over. Adrian seemed unfazed that my teeth were rubbing against his hard meat. He meant to fuck me by jamming his ample rod as far down my throat as possible. I fought the urge to vomit by relaxing and succumbing to the insistent strokes of his rod. The fucking of my ass and mouth took much longer the second time as both studs had recently cum. The pain of being plundered began to rise and I could not help the tears that dampened the tie over my eyes. My moaning turned from pleasure to pain, but neither guy seemed to care. I had entered this ménage a troi willingly, but it had turned into sexual torture.

When Trevor and Adrian were finally finished with me after depositing a second load in my orifices, I was left bound, gagged and blinded on the bed. I heard both men leave the bedroom and I soon heard the splash of water in the adjoining bathroom shower. Eventually, the unmistakable sound of slapping skin assailed my ears. Although I could not see what was transpiring in the shower, Trevor shouted, "Take that stud," and Adrian moaned loudly. I hoped Adrian was feeling some of the pain I had endured. Then Trevor cried out as he came in Adrian's ass.

I was finally released in the middle of the night after enduring another fucking by both men. The only bright spot was that neither stud seemed interested in having me suck their cocks again. That was a small consolation given the pain my ass endured. Despite the pain and still being gagged and tied up, I must have fallen asleep when both guys finally let me be. I woke when I felt the gag being untied and my blindfold removed. Adrian leaned over, as Trevor began to untie my wrist restraints, and kissed me hard on the mouth. I kept my lips sealed tightly not wanting to give him any additional pleasure. Adrian just shrugged his shoulders and walked out the door. When the last tie was removed, Trevor took my hand and helped me off the bed. Pulling gently on my arm, he led me to the shower and tenderly washed away the remains of the orgy from our bodies. I tried awfully hard to be mad at Trevor, but the way he washed and dried me was tender and loving. After gently drying me from head to toe, Trevor led me back to the bed. Wrapped in the towel, I stood and waited while Trevor changed the sheets. When the bed was remade, he removed the towel from my waist and bade me to lay down. His shower-warmed body spooned mine as he cooed in my ear how proud he was of me, how much he loved me, and how appreciative he was that I had allowed Adrian to join us. I should have been hysterical at that point since I had been the one who had been violated over and over, but his soothing voice, warm body, and my exhaustion caused me to fall back into a deep sleep.

Even after everything that had occurred, the next day I still did not feel any anger towards him. In my mind, it was Adrian who was the evil influence. At that time, I could forgive Trevor just about anything. I was simply unable to detach myself from Trevor. He was the center of my world. When I was finally released from his spell deep in the Amazonian jungle, I realized that the fault had not lain at either man's feet, but at my own. Every shred of self-respect and self-worth had been diluted by Trevor's grip on my mind and heart before our journey into the rain forest.

##

Professor Alastar Byrne took a special liking to and interest in Trevor and me during our second year of graduate school. Alastar taught most of the anthropology courses concerning the Americas which were of most interest to Trevor and me. It was not until the second year when classes became more intimate and most were small seminars with a dozen or so students. The three of us got to know each other academically and sexually through that year.

Al was impressed not only with our intelligence, but also with our level of interest in the indigenous tribes of the Amazon. This field was Al's passion and our interest soon became as ardent as our professor's. Al was also a student of history and was particularly fond of Theodore Roosevelt's presidency and his travels. In 1913, Roosevelt embarked on an expedition to Brazil. " _Roosevelt described the Amazon adventure as his last chance to be a boy"_ 10 After reading of Teddy's exploits, I was gung-ho to emulate the man, but without the near-death experiences. The three of us soon were meeting after classes and on weekends discussing theories, investigating sources, and going over Al's previous excursions into the Amazonian rain forest. The three of us spent many more hours together than apart that second year in class, study sessions, and gatherings at Al's modest home.

It was after one of our many late-night sessions about halfway through that second year that Al suggested Trevor and I spend the night rather than trek back to our apartment. The lively discussions had been replaced by some hard drinking. The other students had left earlier. Neither Trevor nor I thought too much about his suggestion. We were both beat from the long day and night and Trevor was drunk. Besides, Al's small home did have a second bedroom with two twin beds. Al helped me pour Trevor into one of the twins. He offered to help undress Trevor, but I told him I could handle it and bade our professor goodnight. Al gave me a look that he was disappointed, and I thought it was because I had declined his offer to undress Trevor.

It came as a great surprise when I was awoken from a sound sleep by a wet mouth that teased my rod and found Al, not Trevor, in the faint light from the streetlamp outside sucking my cock. I was not sure how to react. Al was certainly older than me, but he certainly did know how to use his lips and tongue. Briefly, I considered the fact that this was my professor and the university would certainly not condone him having sex with a student. I certainly was not in any position to tell him to stop. He already knew I was gay and had sex with Trevor. Al also had been hinting that he was considering taking Trevor and me on his next trip to Brazil that summer. I could not very well tell Al that I did not enjoy having my cock sucked. I absolutely did not want to anger or embarrass him in case he retracted the offer to go on the expedition. So, I feigned sleep and let Al have his way.

Naturally, my cock got hard, but I did not move. Al seemed content to let me play dead for a while, though it became increasingly more difficult not to buck into his insistent mouth. A groan escaped me when his hands cupped my sack and rolled my balls. Al stopped bobbing on my rod and quietly asked if I was alright with what was happening. I whispered that what he was doing was probably a bad idea given I was his student. Al answered me saying that he did not give a fuck what anyone said about his sex life. He asked if I wanted to continue. I answered him by cupping the back of his head to direct his mouth back to my cock. We both remained silent as Al brought me to a climax. Unfortunately, I was unable to stifle the cry that erupted from me as my cum shot down Al's throat.

Trevor later told Al that it was my cry that woke him, but he only fooled Al. I had been watching Trevor on the other bed stroking himself as Al worked on my cock. As I came, Trevor rose from his bed and slid his briefs down his legs. His cock bounced as he made his way the short distance between the beds. While Al was struggling to swallow the ropes of cum that still shot from my cock, Trevor moved behind Al. He was startled when Trevor's hands grabbed his shoulders and leaned over to ask Al to fuck me while I sucked Trevor's cock. Al looked at me and asked if I was okay with that. I simply bobbed my head. As his answer, Al leaned his head back and pressed his lips to Trevor's. The two of them shared my cum as my cock rose again watching the two men French kiss. Al broke the lip lock and ran from the room. He returned moments later with a string of condoms and a bottle of lube.

I watched as Al's foreskin pulled tight over his glans before he rolled a condom on. The tip of his rod was already wet with precum and filled the reservoir at the tip. The bottle of lube was passed between them. Al used the lube to slather the condom and keep his cock hard while Trevor quickly opened my hole with lube slick fingers. Although both were busy preparing cock and hole, their mouths were locked on each other. When the two men were sufficiently aroused, they broke their kiss and Al turned on the lamp between the beds. Trevor moved to the side of the bed by my head as I moved closer turning only my head to line up with Trevor's rod. Al scooted to the end of the bed and raised my legs into the air exposing my willing hole. My legs hooked over Al's shoulders at his command. I squirmed as Al's fingers massaged my hole with more lube to enter the channel. Al asked me if I was ready after his preparation and I told him I had been ready for a while which made both men laugh. Trevor poked my mouth to begin sucking his dripping tool. My senses went into overload with the sweaty rectal odor coming from my ass, the feeling of Al's fingers plunging in and out of my hole, and the sweet, salty taste of Trevor's cock.

When Al was satisfied, I was prepared, he told me to stroke myself as he lined up his cock to my hole. I was unsure what kind of pounding Al was about to give me, but I was so ready for it. I palmed my rod and used some lube to jerk myself in time with Al's thrusts. I squirmed and shook with Al's consistent lunges and the strokes I was administering to myself. Trevor had to remind me to keep sucking him. As Al screamed, "Oh fuck!", I felt Al's cock stiffen and warm cum filled the condom. Trevor unloaded his own orgasm in my mouth as multiple ropes of my cum coated my chest and stomach and my fist. I felt depleted yet strangely satisfied even after Al withdrew from my hole.

Trevor wanted a go at one of our asses, but Al told him to get a grip and return to bed. Trevor grumbled, but did as Al requested. Al left the bedroom after instructing me to stay in bed. He returned with a warm facecloth and tenderly cleaned my torso and flaccid cock before my hole. I appreciated his tender touch that was not sexual in any way. When he finished, Al bade us a goodnight and closed the door. I did not bother pulling up the sheet or blanket knowing what was to come. Not fifteen seconds later, Trevor pinned me to the mattress and told me I was going to get fucked whether I liked it or not. I was not surprised nor was I adverse to being fucked by him. Our sex had already morphed into a dominant/submissive relationship. I had known Trevor would not listen to Al and go to bed without fucking me when Al had refused Trevor's advances.

Al pulled me aside the next morning and told me that when I shot, my ass clamped down so hard that it was impossible for him not to follow with his own climax. What he said did not surprise me as Trevor often mentioned that the death grip of my hole always elicited an immediate explosion from his cock. I was surprised when he whispered that he hoped last night was not the last time we would have sex.

After that night, Al continued to work with Trevor and me on our anthropological studies as well as having clandestine sex with me until courses wrapped up for the spring semester. Al never had sex with Trevor which infuriated him. Trevor often mentioned he wanted to plug Al's ass. I only shook my head and changed the subject before something I said or did compromised my clandestine relationship with Al.

It was easy to keep my relationship with Al a secret once Trevor was summoned home for the summer. I often felt bad that I was cheating on Trevor, but I relished the attention Al showed me based equally on sex and a genuine affection. Al was never violent in our lovemaking and treated me with respect. If I did not feel like having sex, Al went off and jerked himself. When I wanted sex, Al always came through even when he was not keen on the idea at that time. I knew Al felt much more for me than I did him, but he accepted the fact that I did not have the same deep feelings. We spoke honestly to each other about our feelings. Al was hurt that I still had feelings for Trevor, but when the summer ended, we continued to have sex though less regularly since Trevor had returned. Once we began the expedition, we stopped having sex completely. Al explained that while our trysts were spectacular, it would be difficult to maintain a professional relationship with me on the expedition if we were still sexually involved. I was relieved because I had no idea how we would have had sex and keep it from Trevor. I often wonder now what might have transpired if I had let Al persuade me he was the right man for me. Now I will never know, and my heart would not have been shattered by Trevor's behavior.

Preparation

rio-roosevelt-5_12_14-2-800x740 11

Trevor returned from his summer holiday in Palm Springs tanned, fit, and horny. I was prepared for his return knowing full well Trevor would not waste time getting me naked and in bed. Al and I had agreed to put our relationship on hold the week before Trevor's return. Neither of us had to voice words that our clandestine liaison had to end at that time. We both knew that Trevor would want me sexually and he would know I had been having sex with someone if my hole was not tight and my balls full. To continue having sex with Al would complicate the relationship between the professor and his two-star students. Trevor already knew that Al and I had spent a great deal of time with each other in his absence. I lied more times than I liked telling Trevor that nothing sexually was happening between our professor and me. I assured Trevor that the one time I sucked Trevor while Al fucked me was the only time. Neither Al nor I wanted to face Trevor's wrath if he found out about the sex we had been having behind his back. Most importantly, neither of us wanted to endanger the funding Trevor's father had promised to put up for the expedition.

Given the senior Whittier's interest in the expedition would normally have assured the funding, but both Al and I were certain that the monies would vanish if Trevor walked away. It only made sense at the time for Al and me to walk away from our tête-à-têtes. While I did not know anything about how Trevor spent his summer vacation and with whom, I did know that he would expect to pick up sexually where we had left off. Looking back, I did feel sadness leaving Al's embrace and later, regret, for allowing Trevor to force that decision. Yet, when Trevor returned, all the love I felt for him flooded back.

His first night back, Trevor threw his luggage into the corner of our bedroom and pushed me fully clothed onto the bed. The buttons of my shirt skittered across the hard wood floor as Trevor ripped my shirt apart. His mouth plunged to my naked chest and I screamed as his teeth bit my nipple. My outcry incensed Trevor to bite the other nipple as his fingers fumbled with my pant button and tore at the zipper. I whimpered as his warm tongue swept across my erect nipples while his hands pulled my pants down. Trevor gave me a wicked smile as he realized that I had gone commando in preparation for his return. My already straining cock was enveloped in his warm hand as Trevor's mouth pressed against my lips. I opened to his tongue and our ardor ramped up as our tongues battled. It was our mutual need for air that ended our kiss. As I laid there, Trevor jostled my body to remove my torn shirt and slide my pants off my legs. There was no hesitation on my part to wiggle my body into the center of the bed as Trevor ripped off his own clothing. My eyes latched onto the whiteness of his groin where Speedos had covered his long, gorgeous cock and large ball sack. His groin was a sharp contrast from the bronzed skin that covered the rest of him. The dissimilarity was quickly swept from my mind as Trevor's cock rose to its full glory. The streaming sunlight from the window fell on the drop of pre-cum that shone at his tip.

I felt that drop of moisture on my thigh as Trevor moved between my legs. In seconds, my legs were raised to the sky and I felt the wet tip at my ready and willing hole. In the midst of being forcefully pierced by that cock, I thanked my prescience in preparing my chute for his onslaught. Trevor sighed as his cock slid into me effortlessly. When he was fully seated it occurred to him that there had been no resistance and he asked why my hole was so loose. I answered that I had douched and played with a dildo before his arrival. He chuckled and then began fucking me in earnest. The fucking he gave me had us sweating and cursing in no time. When I could hold back no longer, I felt my hot cum splatter my body and Trevor's hot juice fill my insides.

Trevor remained hard and inside me as he bent down to ravage my mouth once again. My cum lathered his body as he slowly began to pump inside me. His tongue fucked my mouth as his cock fucked my hole for the second time. Although his body covered mine, I felt my own dick rise again to the occasion. Aided by my precum and the juice from my first ejaculation, my cock moved easily between us. The second fucking took much longer, but neither of us was complaining. When I came for the second time, my ass clenched, and I suddenly felt Trevor's cock pulsing inside me. It was not until Trevor pulled out and flopped down next to me on the bed that I gained enough breath to welcome him home.

###

I was awakened by Trevor's hard cock once again at my hole. During the night he had moved behind me to embrace me with his arms and lay his cock between my ass cheeks. With weak sunlight peeking through the curtain cracks, I felt Trevor's hand at my ass guiding his cock into my chute. The slick residue of our lovemaking through the night was enough lubrication to allow Trevor's cock to slide into me effortlessly. Before long, the bed was shaking with his thrusts and I was shuddering with delight as his hand stroked my own hard cock. It was amazing that either of us had enough cum left in us to shoot once again, but I again felt his warm juice flood me as my own cock spewed cum on the sheet.

As we disengaged, I thanked my lucky stars that I had stopped having sex with Al in advance. It would have been difficult trying to explain a lack of interest or cum to Trevor if I had been drained prior to his return. For although I knew deep down that Trevor had probably fucked every available guy over the summer, he would assume and expect that I had remained chaste. My thoughts left a sour taste in my mouth, but I knew that it was necessary to rekindle our relationship and protect the expedition.

A glance at the bedside clock made me jump from the bed. I felt Trevor's juices flow down my inner thigh from my well-used hole. We had only just enough time to shower, dress, and clean up the bed before our meeting with Al.

###

The other expedition members were already ensconced in the hard, plastic chairs around the large, circular seminar table. Luckily, Al had not started down the long list of preparations we would physically undergo and assemble. Fortuitously, with all heads turned to our arrival, only I saw the rise of Al's eyebrow and the quick, furtive disapproving curve of his lips. I knew that his displeasure was not due to our tardy entry, but to what he surmised had caused us to be late. I averted my eyes from Al's glower and took my seat. It was probably fortunate that Trevor's seat was not adjacent. I did not relish the thought of sitting through hours of Al's apparent jealousy and Trevor's likely furtive advances. I appreciated the chorus of greetings from the others at the table as that drew my attention away from Al.

The team was small due to Al's exacting standards. Trevor and I were part of the quartet of male graduate students. Gary and Bradley made up the other half of the quartet. Lauren was the only female. Since we all knew each other, there was no need to do introductions. I smiled at Gary and Lauren and gave Bradley a curt nod. Of the three, Bradley grated on my nerves and I would have preferred someone else on the team. Bradley was prone to complain and never seemed to smile. I hoped that once we were in the jungle that he would be a better traveling companion. Gary was always friendly though at arms-length like he was afraid of catching the gay "bug" from being too friendly with Trevor or me. Lauren was respected by all, not only for her intellect, but because she could care less what others thought of her. Her motto was live and let live.

Al ordered everyone to take notes before he listed the top eight categories of preparation. Number one on the list made my skin crawl a bit, but I knew from personal experience that insects and especially the ones that bite were my enemy. I was quite susceptible to mosquitoes in particular, and furiously scribbled notes as Al explained that it should come as no surprise that we would encounter insects in the jungle. As he got into the material, photos of insects appeared on the screen in front of us. I had to admit that many of the insects were quite beautiful in their own way. Al explained that while the biters would be annoying and some dangerous, he gave us a short lesson in etymology. No matter what species, all had a crucial role in keeping the rain forest alive and thriving by spreading and transferring plant materials, creating waste, and through their part in the food chain. Balancing those benefits, Al mentioned that insects transmitted malaria, dengue and yellow fevers. To quash the buzz that began between some of us, Al began a detailed description of how we could lower our chances of getting malaria. Two weeks prior to our departure, we would take the once weekly dose of Mefloquine. We would be required to obtain a prescription from our personal doctors. Al encouraged us to get Mefloquine rather than other malaria pills. His choice needed to be taken only once a week, was safe for women who were pregnant (Lauren blushed even as she retorted that pregnancy was not an issue.), and the possible side effects for persons with psychiatric or cardiac conditions or subject to seizures. Al chuckled and asked if any of us had any of those issues. None of us answered knowing full well that we would not be members of the expedition and had all been cleared by our personal doctors and gone through a rigorous battery of tests. Al moved to the easel set up in the corner which had a large calendar attached. Using a red marker, Al wrote "Mefolquine Deadline" two weeks before our departure. He admonished us that anyone who did not provide proof that he or she had started the medication by that date would be scrubbed from the expedition. No one had any questions when Al finished with the Mefloquine.

Before moving from the calendar, Al again wrote in red two weeks before the Mefloquine date the words, "Yellow Fever". Moving to the center of the room, Al explained that we needed to provide proof we had received the Yellow Fever vaccination. He spared us the possible side effects of receiving the vaccination. The shot was not optional Al explained even though the Brazilian government only recommended the vaccination. However, the Centers for Disease Control had recently published a bulletin outlining that Brazil was a high-risk area. While I am not fond of needles, I had no intention of foregoing that vaccination.

Finally, Al got into dengue fever. The World Health Organization recommends that the vaccine only be given to persons with confirmed prior dengue infection. Medical studies have shown that receiving Dengvaxia® prior to being infected exacerbated the disease. Al told us that he would be carrying the vaccine should it be needed. The best prevention was to avoid being bitten by mosquitoes. With that in mind, Al launched into ways we could avoid being bitten by those pests as well as other harmful insects.

The primary defense for us would be to purchase two complete sets of Exofficio Bugsaway clothing. Al had us pull out our tablets and go to the Exofficio website. I was immediately impressed (and skeptical) of the blurb that indicated "BugsAway® apparel with Insect Shield® technology is a revolutionary tool to aid you in the battle against insects that can carry insect-borne diseases. With odorless and invisible insect protection, the only way to tell it is there is that the bugs aren't biting. The built-in insect repellent Permethrin provides a carefree outdoor experience, letting you focus on your adventure, not the bugs."12 We all followed Al as he scrolled down the page, stopping at the Bugsaway Technical section. My eyes bugged out at the prices. They were more than a bit steep for my budget, but I saw Trevor mouth "No problem" and I knew that he would buy my clothing. Trevor had long ago become my benefactor whenever I could not afford something that Trevor thought I should have.

Al emphasized that we buy only the Technical line for shirts and pants. He recommended from personal experience the undershirt and underwear. As I looked at the photos for the underwear, I immediately recognized the briefs. I had seen them many times on Al's body over the summer when we had gone off into the woods to have sex. Bradley piped in and asked why we needed to buy long sleeve shirts and pants. The rest of us groaned and Bradley quickly turned red as he realized how stupid the questions was. The whole purpose of the outfit was to prevent bugs from biting us. Contrary to the movies we had seen of explorers going out in shorts and no shirts, the reality was that heat discomfort was preferable to catching some disease or being incapacitated by an insect bite.

We all wondered why Al asked the men our favorite color from the following choices: red, royal blue, black or bright blue. Trevor chose red, Gary the royal blue, Bradley the black, and I was left with bright blue. To our questioning countenances, Al explained that by having different color underwear, there would be no confusion when the garments were washed then dried by the fire. Bradley teased Lauren by saying that there would be no confusion on her underwear. Lauren, as usual, took the banter in stride. Al finished up the clothing portion of our lecture by pointing out the Lagoa jacket. He made it plain that the jacket was not optional. To my question why, he replied that the Amazon is one of the wettest spots on earth and contrary to public opinion, the jungle did occasionally have cool nights where the jacket would keep us relatively dry and warm. With no further questions, Al called a lunch break and we all trooped out of the room.

Lunch was a noisy affair, not only because Franco's Pizzeria is the favorite choice of the university crowd, but also by the give and take between the guys over what colors each of us would take for the Exofficio shirts, pants, and jacket. There were not many color choices for those items, unlike the underwear. It was finally decided that we would each select multiples of one style shirt and pant. It took another fifteen minutes to work out who got what. I was thrilled that I got the baby blue Corfu long sleeved shirt and beige Sol Cool convertible pants. The only one who diligently clicked away ordering her outfit without discussion was Lauren. Being the only female had some benefits I had never imagined. By the end of lunch, Trevor had ordered his and my wardrobe. At $90 per shirt, $115 per pant, and another $100 for underwear and a hat, my order would mean paying Trevor back in sex multiple times, which I was not averse to doing. To salve my pride, I did insist on paying for my Logoa jacket. I gave his arm a squeeze and a wink to let him know I would pay him back in ways other than monetary.

We returned to the seminar room to find Al had filled the white board with a timeline for our physical preparation. There was no differentiation for Lauren and the rest of us in the strength training or the trekking Al expected all of us to complete by the time we left for Brazil. The handout listed the exercises Al expected us to commit to in order to be in top corporeal form. None of the graduate students were out of shape, but it was obvious that all four of us would have to get to work to get our bodies up to the level Al expected. I was worried about the weightlifting to build arm and core strength and knew that the amount of running and walking would be a challenge for me. Luckily, I was a recreational walker by preference so the trekking would not be hard to accomplish over time though Trevor and I would have to explore new areas around the campus in order to do less flat walking. It was the strength training that appeared to be a problem for me. I was and am not a fan of gyms, sweat, and straining muscles. More importantly, I felt inferior to all the other bodybuilders and gym rats that populated these places. I dreaded this requirement and was only slightly mollified when Al said he had scheduled the workout room specifically for our group. With a look in my direction, Al admonished us to not be tardy and to work out the entire time we were in the workout room. I thought he should have been looking at Trevor knowing Al meant our earlier late arrival.

I had been told that I looked like a beefed-up stud with chicken legs, and really could not disagree. My lower half was decidedly weaker than my upper half. Sexually that had always been an advantage because I could raise my appendages high to allow access to my rosebud. Trevor especially liked the way I wrapped my legs around his body drawing him deep inside me.

I just had to reconcile myself to building up my leg muscles. Common sense told me that once we disembarked the boat far up the Amazon, I would have great difficulty keeping up on foot without strengthening my legs. As if Al were reading my mind, he mentioned to the group that he calculated we would be trekking at least two hundred miles in a circuitous route from and to our boat. I tried to mentally visualize that distance. Then realized that the two hundred miles was roughly the distance between the university and New York City, our jumping off point! I also realized that although that distance was manageable because of the paved thoroughfares, the Amazon jungle was far from a flat, clear path. We all had four weeks to build muscle and stamina which meant not slacking off on the rigorous regimen Al had laid out.

When Al signaled a break, Trevor and I headed to the side table laden with healthy snacks. I longed for a jelly doughnut but found only granola bars and trail mix. Trevor grabbed two of the former as I loaded a Styrofoam bowl with the trail mix. It was mainly nuts, raisins, and chunks of granola, but I had spied the minimal chocolate chips that graced the mix. Lauren gave me the eye after gazing at the laden bowl but did not say anything. I was not as lucky with Gary as he made a few snide comments about my appetite. I kept my temper in check. It would not do anyone any good starting off with animosity between Gary and me. Trevor lightened my mood by wrapping his arm around my shoulders to guide me to the coffee urn.

After our break, Al launched into the next topic – water. My stomach roiled a little as Al stated that almost all our water would come from the rivers and streams we would encounter. He did not spare details that the water would likely be muddy, brown, and contain any number of parasites and bacteria. He told us not to be surprised if our porters and the natives we encountered drank directly from the available water; however, he did tell us in no uncertain terms that we were never to drink without filtering the water first. Al did not want the expedition to falter or fail because one of us fell ill. He would be providing all the filtration equipment so we did not have to purchase our own but showed us the two methods we would be using in the jungle. The first was for our individual use and we would all be issued two. _Sawyer's 1-Gallon Gravity System with dual-threaded MINI filter_ 13 would provide enough water as we moved from one water source to another, though Al did say that we would have to conserve since water was not as abundant as we might expect. When we were encamped by a stream or river, water would be communal and treated with chlorine tablets to kill everything. My immediate thought and comment were that chlorine indeed made water potable, but it would not remove matter. Al smiled and pulled out a LifeStraw® and demonstrated its use using a bucket of water. I had wondered what the foul looking bucket had been for when we returned from lunch. When he had shown us how it worked, he went on to say that the _LifeStraw_ ®14 in combination with chlorine tablets would be just about as safe as water could be in the jungle. On the spot I made up my mind that my two Sawyers were going to be filled from the communal water supply whenever possible. Little did I know at that time that I would be drinking directly from streams and pools without any purification or filtering before returning to civilization.

Al checked off water from the list and ended our afternoon session with a lecture and discussion of our personal hygiene. Inevitably, the topic of toilet paper came up. Al admitted he never brought it on his prior expeditions. I stifled the impulse to make a childish sound. I could not envision wiping my ass with anything but toilet paper, but Al tried to convince all of us that leaves were abundant, but to always check that there were no insects on the top or bottom of the leaves. Given the looks on all our faces, Al finally gave in and told us we could add toilet paper to our personal belongings but warned us that keeping it dry would be a challenge. For those of us who chose to not utilize nature's toilet paper, Al told us to pack at least two dozen gallon size plastic bags. To our inquiring looks, Al explained that the toilet paper we used would have to be carried out of the jungle at the conclusion of our trek. At that point I made up my mind to use leaves. As much as I would prefer toilet paper, the idea of carrying used paper in my backpack was the deciding factor.

In addition, he told all of us that we were not to bring any personal hygiene products other than toothbrush and paste. Washing would be done in rivers and streams with water only. Soaps, shampoos, and other cosmetic products would contaminate the jungle and were prohibited. I admit that my skin was crawling by the end of the day. Al's final statement, "I am going to be 100% honest with you. You are going to be gross. Dirt, sweat, mud, and other unnamable jungle goos will inevitably cover your body and clothing during your stay. **You will not be winning any beauty contests there.** **"** **15** **, ended the afternoon's information.**

As Trevor and I walked from Bailey Hall where we had spent the day and out of earshot of the others, he asked if I was bringing toilet paper and plastic bags. The wink he gave me and his hand on his crotch made his question abundantly clear. He wanted me to be sure to clean my hole during the expedition. It was evident that Trevor intended to fuck me throughout the trek given the opportunity. He laughed as my face reddened. Before I could answer, Trevor immediately said that he would take plenty of toilet paper and I would carry the plastic bags. As usual, I acquiesced bowing to his hold over me.

##

Early the next morning after Trevor's plundering of my ass during the night, we began the first of many long walks and gym sessions. Each day we took a different route until we had exhausted all alternatives then covered the same routine. Trevor and I also went to the gym and did endless squats, leg lifts, lunges and step ups. On alternate days we worked on chest and arms. I had never worked so hard but would find all these exertions a benefit when we covered many miles in the jungle. I was exhausted that first day when we arrived at Bailey Hall later that morning.

The second morning of our classroom preparations was spent primarily in semi-darkness as Al presented a slide show of the likely animals, amphibians, fish, and insects we would encounter. The Amazon River Dolphin was nothing like the dolphins I had seen in the ocean. It's pink body with an elongated neck, round head, and snout were oddities of the species. That it ate crabs, small fish and turtles meant it was not a threat to us. The natives believed the dolphins were magical and did not hunt them. Their biggest threat was the motorized watercraft that plied the Amazon and its tributaries. I hoped that we would spy the creatures during our river voyage.

The next slide and discussion, however, gave me enough reason to listen carefully despite my drooping eyelids. Piranhas were not a threat to take lightly. There are twenty species of the nasty fish and the Red Bellied Piranha was the one that usually attacked humans. Usually Piranhas ate other fish, occasionally each other, and did bite humans, but human attacks almost always occurred during the dry season when water levels were low, and food was scarce. Al assured us that although they were potentially dangerous, the worst we might suffer were nips to our extremities. I saw Trevor shudder and could imagine he was thinking about his cock getting a bite. I had to stifle a laugh.

Al covered the Capybara, Giant Armadillo, Giant River Otter, Pygmy Marmoset, and Squirrel Monkey much more quickly. They were all harmless and posed little threat to any of us. Other than the Giant Armadillo, I hoped we would catch glimpses of the others.

The short discussion on the South American Tapir led to the biggest animal threat to us. The tapir is the favorite food of the Jaguar. These big cats are excellent climbers, swimmers, and hunters. Al discussed that it was unlikely we would see a jaguar, but since they hunted primarily at night, we would likely hear the screams of their prey. Reports of jaguar attacks on humans were rare, but if the animal sensed we were wounded or incapacitated, that might provoke an attack. Al also mentioned that the female jaguar would be a serious threat if she was protecting young. As much as I feared an encounter, I also hoped that I could catch one of the creatures on film. Al ended the morning session after our questions were answered about the jaguar. All of us adjourned to the dining hall to fortify ourselves for the afternoon session. I ate quickly and then left to lie on the grass for a quick nap. Thankfully, Trevor did not bother me, and I was ready for the afternoon after about twenty minutes snoozing in the warm sun.

After our return to the seminar room, Al moved quickly through the slides containing the common birds we might encounter. Many were familiar from movies, pictures and the like, but the Hoatzin was unique. The hoatzin is pheasant-sized, with a total length of 65 centimetres (26 in), and a long neck and small head. It has an unfeathered blue face with maroon eyes, and its head is topped by a spiky, rufous crest. The long, sooty-brown tail is broadly tipped buff). The upperparts are dark, sooty-brown-edged buff on the _wing coverts_ , and streaked buff on the mantle and nape. The under parts are buff, while the crissum (the undertail coverts surrounding the cloaca), primaries, underwing coverts and flanks are rich rufous-chestnut, but this is mainly visible when it opens its wings. The hoatzin is _an herbivore_ , eating leaves and fruit, and has an unusual digestive system with an enlarged crop used for fermentation of vegetable matter, in a manner broadly analogous to the digestive system of mammalian ruminants. The alternative name of "stinkbird" is derived from the bird's foul odour, which is caused by the fermentation of food in its digestive system. 16 _Al_ mentioned that if we heard a bizarre variety of groans, croaks, hisses and grunts usually in tandem, that a Hoatzin would be close by. I mentally noted that getting a picture of the Hoatzin should be added to my list of photographs I hoped to have on our return to civilization.

Al wrapped up with slides and discussion on the Black Caiman, Green Anaconda, and Poison Dart Frogs. The caiman sounded much more dangerous than Piranhas, but I was somewhat mollified by the fact that the reptile was elusive and solitary. Piranhas went back to the top of my list of water creatures I was most afraid of. Regarding land-based threats, Poison Dart Frogs shot to the top of the list.

Some species of the family Dendrobatidae exhibit extremely bright coloration along with high toxicity, while others have cryptic coloration with minimal to no amount of observed toxicity. The species that have great toxicity derive this from their diet of ants, mites and termites.17 _Their_ toxicity was a second source for Amazonian tribes to coat their arrows and spears after curare. Al cautioned us not to take chances with the diminutive amphibians. Look, but not touch was the phrase he used to warn us against them.

We took another short snack break and Al waited only long enough for the four of us to sit and then passed around another handout. This one listed the personal gear we had to acquire. Scanning the list, I was glad I had not purchased any of the gear I had perused on the REI website. It was obvious that Al's list was designed to allow us to travel lightly although I mentally questioned how comfortable the minimal clothing would be. If anything could be said about my grooming, I always prided myself on wearing stylish, clean clothing and maintaining good hygienic standards. My imagination was already in overdrive thinking how miserable I would be having only the one pair of hiking shoes and just a single change of socks and underwear!

Trevor could read me well as we studied the list. The twinkle in his eye and the smirk on his face were enough to raise my hackles, but I kept my mouth shut. No one was forcing me to go on the expedition. I had chosen to leave my comfortable life behind for the rigors and hardships of the expedition. In hindsight, I wish I had excused myself and let another grad student take my place.

Al finished the briefing by going over the list of equipment that we would be taking but did not have to provide. Trevor's Dad would provide the major equipment we would need. Al's purpose in going through the list was not to give credit to Mr. Whittier's largesse, but to inform us about the gear we would have to lug through the jungle. Given the scope and weight of the team gear, it made much more sense why Al had pared down our personal gear to the barest minimum.

The meeting broke up shortly after and Trevor and I headed to an early dinner. The granola bars, trail mix and coffee had not assuaged our rumbling stomachs. As we walked to the dining hall, Trevor rambled on about his exercise plan to get us in shape. With a wink, he ended the long list of exercises with the suggestion that we also have lots of sex to increase our stamina. I could not help laughing out loud as we passed through the dining hall doors. Heads turned at our raucous entrance, but I did not give a damn. I concurred with Trevor's plan and especially the last exercising with a hearty kiss. Trevor was a bit surprised by my boldness as I usually did not display affection in public, but he did not hesitate to enter my mouth with his tongue. "Get a room", someone shouted!

Although both of us were famished, we restrained ourselves from gorging and left the dining hall with satisfied stomachs. Trevor had decided that we should start our special exercise program that very evening. My ass and cock were sore from all the exertions, but exercising that way sure beat lifting weights or walking miles.

##

The next morning, Al handed out a list that I, unfortunately, would find to be one of the most important information we covered in our preparation for the Amazon. When I left Trevor and Sinaa and got terribly disoriented trying to reach civilization, the list, which I had laminated and guarded as if prescient to needing it, helped me survive. The list read as follows:

If you were to ever get lost or separated from your group, there are a few survival essentials that are handy to know. Here are a few basic survival tips:

  * Don't freak out. This will waste energy and increase your need for food; move slowly and cautiously

  * Walking downhill in the jungle will lead to water, and usually water leads to civilization

  * Break down whatever challenge you are faced with into small, manageable tasks

  * Obtain water. Hordes of insects often imply that there is a water source nearby. Animals will often leave trails that meet near water. If you are really prepared (or paranoid), carry a plastic trowel for digging for water beneath the surface. Ideally, boil any water you find, filter it or add purification tablets to it.

  * Never wear wet socks. Over time, persistent moisture can provoke tissue breakdown which would leave your feet at risk from fungal infections

  * Leave a trail made from torn clothing or any objects you find (the brighter the better)

  * Don't head in a straight line; weave your way through clearings in the forest

  * This is a tough one but try to gather materials to build a shelter on high ground (if possible) to protect yourself from inclement weather, veracious insects and venomous spiders and snakes. A fire will frighten away your predators and attract attention from other travelers

  * It's counter to the plan to accidentally poison yourself; only eat fruits, vegetables and nuts that you are familiar with; cashews, peanuts, starchy root vegetables and citrus fruits are abundant in the Amazon. Always consume fresh fruit or fish (if you are a dab hand at fishing) straight away as it will quickly rot in the heat and humidity.18

It did not take long to go through the list that morning, but I credit most of it for saving my life and allowing me to eventually return to the U.S.

The morning session was the last of the classroom preparations for our trip. Al would provide us with information while we explored the jungle. His parting comment was to continue with our physical training and reminded everyone to get our vaccinations.

The remaining weeks of preparation were spent at doctor's offices, at the library researching, on trails, in the gym, and on two occasions meeting with Al privately for sex. Despite our decision not to have sex with each other after Trevor's return, I could not resist Al's entreaties for "just one more time". I felt some guilt conceding to Al since Trevor had been showing extra attention to me. He had forsaken all other men for me, though he admitted that he had unsuccessfully tried to seduce Al again when I had shown no interest in sex. I did not admit that I had been with Al that same day and was sure if I had sex with Trevor that he would know from my used hole that I had cheated on him. I commiserated with Trevor to get his mind off my refusal by turning his attention to Gary. Our teammate was one good looking hunk and Trevor had mentioned on occasion that he would not mind having sex with Gary.

Gary

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19

Gary was that typical All-American boy-next-door. His passion for anthropology was only matched by his adoration of the female species. Although he was a testosterone-driven beast in bed and took great pleasure in regaling me with his conquests, we still got along well. I had given up all hope of convincing Gary that a romp in bed with me would more than meet his expectations. Once I got an eyeful of his flaccid eight-inch dick, I had day and night dreams of his monster entering me. Despite a few not so subtle hints, nothing had happened between us. I suppose that was for the best since Trevor and I were a couple, at least unofficially. I would have relished the opportunity to have Gary's ample appendage fucking the living daylights out of me but was afraid that opening that door would lead to difficulties between Trevor and me. Deep down, I was also fearful that Trevor and Gary would bond leaving me out of the picture if Gary ever decided to experiment with gay sex.

I could not compete with Trevor when it came to getting heterosexual men to bed down with a guy. I did not have the courage or confidence to approach guys unless there was not any question, they were gay. Then the issue became convincing my mark that I was not jailbait. Anyways, Trevor was such an accomplished manipulator that I would not have been astonished if he had already taken Gary to bed without my knowledge. No words or looks had been exchanged between Trevor and Gary to indicate they had carnal knowledge of each other. It was a little surprising that Trevor had not made any moves on Gary given what Trevor and I both had seen in the shower room.

Gary had taken Al's word that liquor would be hard to come by in the jungle. As a result, Gary did some heavy imbibing during more than a few occasions prior to our departure. One night was particularly notable. Gary had been out that evening with some of his buddies and had an inordinate number of drinks. Two guys, a blond and a brunette, manhandled a very drunk Gary into the residence hall and up the stairs to our floor. One of the guys bumped up against our apartment door making me run to find out what was transpiring. Gary was passed out and as the guys struggled down the hall, the pungent odor of liquor and vomit assailed my nostrils. The blond held Gary upright by sheer force of will as the brunette attempted to fish Gary's keys out of his pocket. As Gary slumped, the brunette quickly helped the blond to prop Gary up against the wall. Seeing me in my doorway, the blond asked me to get Gary's keys and open his door. Stepping close to Gary, the odor was overwhelming. I looked at the two guys and told them to forget putting Gary in his room. What he needed was a shower. Without any dissent, the blond and brunette followed me to the communal bathroom. I instructed them to lay Gary down gently on the floor and said I would take care of him. Neither objected and both preceded me out the bathroom door and down the hall. I assured them that I had everything in control as they started down the stairs. I entered Trevor's and my apartment. Trevor was snoring and draped over the bed. He was tuckered out from the bout of sex we had had about an hour before. For some reason, I was always energized by the pounding I received. I gently shook him awake and told him he had to help me with Gary.

Trevor moaned and turned away until I said, "Gary is passed out in the shower room and needs a shower bad". That sex fiend's mind immediately recognized the opportunity and Trevor got out of bed, pulled on his boxers, and followed me down the hall. By the time we got to the shower room, Trevor's boxers were tented. He grinned like a Cheshire cat when he saw me look at his clothed erection. I gave him an evil eye and told him in no uncertain terms that he better not even think of doing something with Gary. That gleam in Trevor's eye as he looked at Gary sprawled on the floor was turned to me when I told Trevor that he would be rewarded once we had cleaned up Gary and gotten him into his room. My ass was a bit sore from the beating it had taken earlier in the evening, but I would endure more discomfort if Trevor stuck his cock in me rather than try to impregnate Gary.

I had Trevor work on getting Gary's jacket and shirt off while I worked at his belt, buttons, and pulled off his pants. Even completely comatose, it was easy to see that Gary's cock was substantial. As soon as Trevor yanked Gary's jacket and shirt off, his eyes locked on Gary's briefs. I had to remind Trevor that he would forgo his prize if he started messing around with Gary. Somewhat reluctantly, Trevor remained at Gary's head, grabbed him under the armpits, and helped me move Gary into the spray. Both of us gasped as the water-soaked Gary's briefs and the true extent of his cock was revealed. No wonder the girls never lasted more than once with Gary. He was not even erect, but that dick must have been six inches flaccid.

Gary did not react to the waters spraying his body. He was completely out of it, so when Trevor suggested we try to awaken the giant beneath Gary's briefs, I could not see any harm in giving Gary a hand job. I really did not think Gary would get hard being drunk so rubbing that cock seemed harmless. I had barely gotten the words out before Trevor had ripped Gary's briefs down his legs. That monster flopped on Gary's thighs and I could not stifle the moan that came out of me when I saw that huge cut cock.

Trevor got right to work on sliding his hands up and down that rod. To both of our surprise, that snake began to rise from Gary's pubic bush. I did not think it possible Gary could get an erection in the state he was in, but there was no denying that Trevor had been able to tease that cock to its full length of ten inches. Not only was it long, it was as wide as the proverbial beer can. I watched Gary carefully to see if his erection had brought him out of his alcoholic stupor. There appeared to be no mental reaction to Trevor's stimulation.

Then to my shock, Trevor hastily slid his soaked boxers off and planted his asshole right at Gary's glans. Some soap suds lubricated both Gary's rod and Trevor's hole enough for him to sit on that monster with almost no discomfort. Trevor took almost all ten inches but had to use two fingers to keep Gary's cock upright as Trevor slid up and down. I really was astonished watching the show for two reasons. I had never seen Trevor take it up the ass and I was sure Gary should have woken up as Trevor worked on that cock. After what seemed like hours, but probably was not more than ten minutes, Trevor's cum shot across Gary's chest and chin. He pulled off and told me to ride Gary. Being the size queen, I am, I did not hesitate to take Trevor's place. My sphincter and chute were well stretched from Trevor's recent pounding, so I had no trouble sliding right down that monster. Even so, Gary's cock was longer and wider than Trevor's which I quickly adjusted to. Then, I went to town. Like Trevor, it did not take long before my cum splattered the comatose guy.

After a good ride, my legs were exhausted from squatting over Gary. Reluctantly, I pulled off and planted my ass on the shower floor to stretch my legs. Trevor quickly soaped up Gary's torso and then his cock and pubic area. The time we had spent riding Gary had washed off the vomit from his face and hair. There was still the distinct sour odor of stale liquor, but Gary was clean. Gary was still out for the count as Trevor and I grabbed hold of him and headed to Gary's room. I had to let Gary's legs down to unlock the door, then lifted them back up to get Gary to his bed. Whether by choice or luck, Gary was one of the few graduate students who occupied an apartment by himself.

Trevor and I had been in the apartment before to attend the parties Gary liked to host. All of them had become drunken orgies, so it really did not surprise either of us that Gary that night was senseless. As I remembered that last party, it dawned on me that one of the co-eds had staggered from Gary's room after everyone left. She was muttering about the fact that Gary had zonked out during her ride on that monster and his cock had remained hard right through her orgasm. Medically, it should not have been possible for us to get Gary hard being in the drunken state he was in, but we could not deny the fact his monster had given both of us a workout.

We laid Gary onto his bed without bothering to even pull on clean boxers. Let him figure out how he got cleaned up and put to bed in his birthday suit. Trevor could not resist bending down and kissing Gary's now flaccid cock before pulling up the sheet and blanket. When he rose, he winked at me and motioned me to the door. As he wrapped his arm around my shoulders, I knew that I was in for another wild sexcapade.

Gary never mentioned that night. I suspect he knew that we had cleaned him up and tucked him into bed, but Gary saw no reason to believe we had done anything else. It was Trevor and my secret. There were times in the jungle when Gary was swimming in the nude, as we all did, that I had to wait until my cock behaved before getting out of the water. That cock ride had been a memorable fuck that has not occurred since. My dick is hard again just remembering the ride.

As for the reason why Gary was part of the expedition, he was a student of sociology. His task was to study the communities and social structures of the Amazonian inhabitants. The ultimate goal was to complete the expedition and write a dissertation he hoped would be unique and therefore published. Gary was intent on either supporting or disputing the conclusions of Napoleon Chagnon's _Yanomamö_ _: The Fierce People. The book which was published first in 1968 ignited a firestorm of controversy._ _In recent years, he had become such a controversial figure for his research among the Yanomami that the Venezuelan government had prohibited him from reentering Yanomami country._ _20_

 21

_In turning the Yanomami into the world's most famous "unacculturated" tribe, Chagnon also turned the romantic image of the "noble savage" on its head. Far from living in harmony with one another, the tribe engaged in frequent chest-pounding duels and deadly inter-village raids; violence or threat of violence dominated social life. The Yanomami, he declared, "live in a state of chronic warfare."_ The phrase may be the most contested in the history of anthropology. Colleagues accused him of exaggerating the violence, even of imagining it — a projection of his aggressive personality. As Chagnon's fame grew — his book became a standard text in college courses — so did the complaints. No detail was too small to be debated, including the transliteration of the tribe's name. As one commentator wrote: "Those who refer to the group as Yanomamö generally tend to be supporters of Chagnon's work. Those who prefer Yanomami or Yanomama tend to take a more neutral or anti-Chagnon stance." In 2000, the simmering criticisms erupted in public with the release of "Darkness in El Dorado," by the journalist Patrick Tierney. A true-life jungle horror story redolent with allusions to Conrad, the book charged Chagnon with grave misdeeds: not just fomenting violence but also fabricating data, staging documentary films and, most sensational, participating in a biomedical expedition that may have caused or worsened a measles epidemic that resulted in hundreds of Yanomami deaths. Advance word of the book was enough to plunge anthropology into a global public-relations crisis — a typical headline: "Scientist 'Killed Amazon Indians to Test Race Theory.' " But even today, after thousands of pages of discussion _,_ including a lengthy investigation by the American Anthropological Association (A.A.A.), there is no consensus about what, if anything, Chagnon did wrong. 22

Gary had his work cut out for him to write a dissertation that was not a repeat of what others before him had done. I did not envy him the task. As for my own dissertation, I still had no idea what topic I would write about and figured that some time on the expedition I would find a suitable field case to expound on.

Gary would be a great addition to our group. His sense of humor was well-honed which would lighten the arduous task before us. If I did not dwell on the monster that hid beneath his trousers, Gary and I had developed an easy banter and become friends. It was Gary who would often give me the encouragement to go beyond the limits of my physical and mental exhaustion. He often lifted the spirits of the other expedition members. Yet, when circumstances dictated, Gary was also capable of holding his own physically.

When I just could not lift the machete and hack at the thick growth, Gary would silently take the machete and move in front of me. Lauren would give me that look that indicated I was a wimp, but Gary never mentioned it. Many times he would work until he was completely drenched in sweat from his exertions exposing his powerful back and buttocks. I would have to concentrate on the scenery to keep my mind from thinking about the package underneath those pants. I usually had dreamt those nights about Gary's sturdy gluteus maximi riding me until I would wake with my underwear wet and sticky. As quietly as I could I would leave the tent, strip, and use precious water to rinse out my underwear before returning to the tent. Luckily, Trevor was a heavy sleeper and was never roused from his slumber. I was not embarrassed that I had cum dreaming of Gary but did not want to be teased by Trevor. I knew that Trevor had his own fantasies and dreams about Gary, though I never caught him washing out his underwear. Trevor was not adverse telling me all about his thoughts of Gary's ample appendage either in his mouth or ass.

Gary, of course, was completely oblivious to the oogling of his companions. However, his intense disinterest sexually in the male species did not translate when it came to females.

Lauren

She is science (Cosima/Maslany) 23

The eyes that Gary surreptitiously fastened on Lauren through our seminar sessions and on the trail led me to believe she had more to worry about than I did if Gary let his cock think for him. On the other hand, Lauren was one gal you did not want to mess with. She was tough as nails and although she cleaned up well, there was no doubt she could hold her own out in the field. Her brain was also probably far superior to anyone else's on the team, other than Al's, as she held a double undergraduate degree in Anthropology and Entomology. Her master's program was a continuation of her dual studies. Although Lauren was as excited about contacting a lost tribe as the rest of the team, she had also admitted that she wanted to find a new species of bug. As far as I was concerned, she could find all the nasty creatures she wanted. If there was anything I did not relish about this expedition, it was finding some creepy crawler latching onto me.

###

The day following our last seminar, I would have swung at Trevor early the next morning when he rudely woke me if I had not been so tired. There was an ashen light that feebly filtered through the blinds. Turning my head, my eyes widened as it registered it was only five in the morning. Trevor had not finished with my ass until almost one, so four hours certainly was not enough sleep, especially since Trevor was trying to get me out of bed for our first jogging session. Although my mind was sluggish, I did thank my lucky stars that I had not drunk alcohol the night before. That had been another sacrifice to follow Trevor's plan. I certainly could not argue. We would not be finding a handy state liquor store in the Amazon. Although it would have been nice to intersperse our bedroom romps with a glass of wine or spirits, Trevor made sense. However, I did refuse to agree to pour the Tanqueray down the drain. I proposed that we celebrate our successful completion of Trevor's exercise regimen with a cold gin and tonic. Trevor thought that an excellent idea as I tucked the bottle into the far recess of the kitchenette cabinet.

Trevor untangled himself from me and the sheets. I watched as his morning wood pointed the way to the bathroom. The broad tapered back, firm ass, and powerful legs that I watched with undisguised lust strode through the bathroom door. The powerful blast of urine into the bowl prompted me to follow Trevor into the bathroom. As his piss continued to fill the bowl, I splashed water onto my face waiting my turn.

When I left the bathroom, Trevor was busy at the two-burner stove heating water for coffee. We both preferred the brewed blend at Starbucks, but Trevor decided to make some instant. Usually I take my coffee light and sweet, but Trevor handed me a cup of black. He did not need to tell me that the stronger brew would waken me in preparation for our jog. As we stood there stark-naked drinking down the bitter coffee, Trevor's resolve weakened to dress and begin our run. His cock told me that exercising in bed would soon follow. In comparing our physiques, I knew that I needed the exercise much more than my roommate, so when he suggested we have another go in bed, I answered by pulling on sweat shorts and a tank top. With a sigh, Trevor followed my example and we headed out for our run.

The early morning air was cool when we first stepped outside, but I was happy I had decided on minimal clothing after the first mile. I was keeping up with Trevor even after the second mile but began to feel the burn in my chest and legs in the third mile. Trevor seemed unfazed by the run and I struggled to keep up. Luckily, he decided that we needed a rest as mile four approached. I collapsed onto the bus stop bench. I was unable to answer when Trevor asked how I was doing. It was all I could do to suck in air.

We both spied Lauren coming from the opposite direction. Her ebony hair was plastered with sweat as well as the tank top she wore over the sports bra. Sexually, I had no interest in those pert nipples that stretched the fabric but noted that Lauren was hardly winded when she stopped and sat at the bench. With little effort, Lauren asked us whether we were on our way out or back to the dorms. I let Trevor handle the conversation. It turned out that Lauren was on her way back after completing six miles of a ten-mile run. She said it without any rancor or pride, but matter-of-factly as if ten miles was a walk in the park. I simmered in mild anger that she had run six miles with little effort. A more studly male would have made up his mind on the spot to train even harder to surpass Lauren's accomplishment, but that was not me. With a wave, Lauren took off for the dorms.

When I finally caught my breath, we turned back towards the dorm. I was relieved when I spied the entrance to the building and in a sudden burst of energy, beat Trevor to the door. There was little consolation in being the first as I struggled for breath. My reward was listening to Trevor laugh softly at my discomfort. I did not blame him or get angry. He had not made me sprint to the door.

My legs were still sore when we got into the shower. Despite the pain, I did not stop Trevor from turning me to the shower wall. His strong hands pulled my ass cheeks apart and I soon felt his cock at my rosebud. The pre-cum he had swirled over his cock head allowed his tool to enter me effortlessly. I wobbled on unsteady legs as Trevor began to pound my ass. His strong arms propped me against the wall as he pushed in and out. With a strangled cry, he came, and I felt his hot juice flood my chute. I almost fainted as my own cum jetted onto the shower wall. Only Trevor's strength kept me upright until I was able to regain my balance. With a tenderness that made my eyes water, Trevor cleaned our bodies and dried me off.

###

The dining hall was basically empty when we made it down for breakfast. At a table near the windows, Gary saw us enter and motioned for us to join him. We waved back indicating we saw him and went to the buffet. At Trevor's insistence, I piled my plate with eggs, bacon, and hash browns rather than taking the doughnuts and Danish I normally ate. A large orange juice and black coffee rounded out my meal. Trevor's plate was similar and fully loaded as we made our way to Gary's table.

I certainly did not think Trevor and I looked anything but two tired guys just back from a six- mile run, but something in our look got Gary chuckling. When I asked what was so funny, Gary smiled and said it looked like we had gotten our exercise lying down. I confirmed Trevor and my sexual exercising by turning a healthy shade of pink. That made Gary laugh louder and rather than be mad, both Trevor and I could not help joining in.

Once we settled down, all three of us laid into our meals. Between mouthfuls, Gary learned of our early run. When he asked if he could join us the next morning, I glanced at Trevor. Our eyes met as we pondered Gary's request. We both enjoyed Gary's company, but he would be a distraction especially if he wore tight shorts. With a slight nod of my head, Trevor told Gary that he was welcome if he kept up with us. That comment led to some boasting and challenges that made me wonder if I was the one who might have trouble keeping up the next morning.

When Gary suggested we meet at the weight room later that morning, there was not any good reason not to agree. With that, Trevor and I returned to our room. With my lover sitting close, we scrolled through websites on physical training. It was finally our stomachs that forced us to turn away from the computer screen to head to the dining hall. On the way there I remembered that we had promised Gary to meet him. Although both Trevor and I were upset we had forgotten, there was nothing to do but apologize to Gary either later that day or the next morning.

###

Our entrance into the seminar room for another session with Al was met with an icy response from Gary. Neither Trevor nor I wanted to make a scene, so we took our seats feeling guilty. Lauren and Al seemed oblivious to the frost between us and Gary. He kept his eyes on Al the entire time and avoided looking our way. It would have bothered me more if Al was not expounding on the aims of our expedition.

The primary purpose of the expedition was to find one of the elusive Amazonian tribes discovered by an overflight by an indigenous rights group sponsored by the Catholic Church. On March 25, 2014, their plane flew over a previously unknown native compound deep in the jungles on the upper Rio Envira in the Brazilian state of Acre.

Scott Wallace for National Geographic

April 4, 2014 24

The Envira is a tributary of the Rio Tarauaca which flows into the Amazon. Although the Envira defines the northwest boundary of the Santa Rosa do Purus National Forest, and the BR-364 highway crosses over the river, the upper reaches of the Envira are largely unexplored. There was an uproar caused by the overflight prompting the Brazilian indigenous affairs government agency, FUNAI, to prohibit further contact with the previously unknown tribe. With this sighting, FUNAI confirmed the presence of twenty-seven "uncontacted" indigenous groups living in extreme isolation in the vast Amazon region.

The exact meaning of "uncontacted" tribe is a matter of debate, but experts agree that such communities have extremely limited contact with the outside world and that they survive in nearly complete isolation from the global industrial economy. Whatever contact may occur often takes the form of violent clashes—a dialogue of flying bullets in one direction and flying arrows in the other.25

The overflight was not the only thing controversial. The photos clearly showed that this uncontacted tribe did acquire more civilized tools, though I could not help noticing that the men were all naked. Professor Byrnes continued with his presentation.

Apparently, the flight had taken place at the request of the Ashaninka tribal leaders.

The Ashaninka are mostly dependent on subsistence agriculture. They use the slash-and-burn method to clear lands and to plant yucca roots, sweet potato, corn, bananas, rice, coffee, cacao and sugar cane in biodiversity-friendly techniques. They live from hunting and fishing, primarily using bows and arrows or spears, as well as from collecting fruit and vegetables in the jungle.26

The few hundred Ashaninka living in the state of Acre had been raided numerous times by primitive tribes seeking industrial goods such as clothing, axes, machetes, and pots. There had been several reports of attempted kidnappings of women and children by the uncontacted tribes. Despite the Ashaninka's claims for protection, FUNAI had relinquished their own oversight of the area when they pulled out their own personnel in 2012. FUNAI representatives had been under attack, not by the _"bravos"_ 27 (the wild Indians, as the Ashaninka called them), but by drug traffickers and illegal loggers coming from Peru. FUNAI continued annual overflights of their own but had refused any organization or individuals to contact the _bravos_ until Professor Byrnes had wrangled an agreement between himself and FUNAI for our expedition. Unsaid by Al was the knowledge I had gained from Trevor that his father had spent a small fortune bribing FUNAI officials over the last few years.

In addition to the bribes, a lack of resources and trained personnel at FUNAI prompted the Brazilian government to seek alternative ways to contact and ultimately protect the _bravos_ seen in the overflight photographs. The overflight in 2014, followed overflight photographs taken in 2008. The earlier images showed the _bravos_ in brilliant crimson body paint, looking fierce and taking aim with arrows at the aircraft. The 2014 photos showed a deterioration of the _bravos_ site and men in questionable health. I did notice, however, that the natives were raising deadly spears in the air at the plane.

 Brazil's constitution _guarantees indigenous populations the right to the undisturbed use of their traditional lands and obliges the federal government to intervene to protect them. To that end, personnel from the Department of Isolated Indians_  undertake dangerous missions _into the deep jungle to document the presence of uncontacted indigenous groups and seal off their lands from the encroachment of outsiders, who often bring violence and epidemic diseases against which the Indians have no immunological defense._ 28

As Al rattled on about the history of and reasons for our expedition, I could not help feeling some trepidation. The Ashaninka were a known quantity. The _bravos_ were something entirely different. I was not sure what I had expected by joining the expedition. In my naivete, I suppose I envisioned the _bravos_ as a community of peaceful, food-gatherers with little inclination to harm others. The news that there had been attempted kidnappings by the _bravos_ could also mean we would encounter hostility instead of congeniality. Pointing arrows and spears at an aircraft was ridiculous, but we would not have the protection of space and plane between us and the _bravos_ when and if we met.

The remainder of the weeks conditioning and meeting in preparation for our departure flew by. When the group met at the bus that was taking us to Kennedy International for our Delta flight to Fortaleza, we had completed all physical and mental preparations. The luggage area was chock full of the gear, but the passenger compartment was nearly empty. There was plenty of room for our small group and Al suggested we spread out and rest. Not heeding his advice, Trevor and I sat together and snuggled. When the others had settled down, we kissed and fondled each other. Neither of us was sure when we might get a chance to be intimate.

The fourteen-hour flight got us into Fortaleza at 7:15am. I was glad that Trevor and I had finally decided to sleep during the flight after about an hour of fooling around. Despite our forays down the aisle of the jet to stretch our legs, we were not used to sitting for such a long time. Sleep helped pass the time. When the group met after going through customs, Al directed us to a minivan that would take us to the hotel. He had arranged that our copious belongings, except for our personal backpacks, were stored at the airport until the next flight. Our flight from Fortaleza to Belem did not depart until 3:50am for the nine plus hour flight which would get us into Belem around 1:00pm.

I groaned thinking of the ungodly early departure, but Al explained that there were very few options and this flight would get us in Belem midday rather than near midnight. Gary piped in with his usual good humor and said that this would give us time to explore Fortaleza and still get plenty of shuteye before the flight.

FORTALEZA

The plane had made a slow, steady turn to make its final descent into Pinto Martins International Airport from the south, and Gary had gotten a quick glimpse of a massive water park right on the beach. Everyone, but Al, decided on the spot to get settled in at the hotel and then head to the water park. The group quickly gathered in front of Hotel Recanto Wirapuru. The rooms we were assigned were spartan but would suffice. For $43 per night, the hotel was a great bargain. The hotel was not far from the airport but was a distance from the Beach Park. The concierge arranged for a minibus from the hotel to the water park. Al's parting comment was to enjoy ourselves, but to be sure we got some sleep before we met out front at 1:00am for our flight.

In our excitement to spend the day at the water park, the half hour drive flew by. Our driver, Manny, frequented the water park with his children and enthusiastically recommended the Kaiafrio, a half pipe ride on rafts, and Arrepius, the family friendly section with water slides and a pool. Manny was less enthusiastic about Insano and Vaikuntudo. He had tried both and found them too unnerving. When pressed on why, Manny explained that both rides were too high for his liking and the free fall was too exhilarating. The five of us immediately made up our minds to spend the day at Insano and Vaikuntudo.

That excitement was tempered as we approached the ticket window and saw the price for admission. R$215.00 was a steep price to pay even for Trevor until we realized that the cost was actually US$57. Despite our protestations, Trevor whipped out his Chase Palladium card to pay our admissions. Trevor calmed us down by casually remarking that his Dad was bankrolling the expedition and naturally, recreation should be a part of the adventure. It did not surprise me since Trevor often used the credit cards his father provided him. Mr. Whittier showed his affection for his only son through monetary means. It was a poor substitute for love, but Trevor was unfazed.

Both Insano and Vaikuntudo were everything Manny had promised. The almost vertical free fall of Insano at almost 65mph was just what the name implied – INSANE! The splash into the pool came much too fast, but that did not stop any of us from climbing up the fourteen floors many times. Our prior conditioning made the climb a breeze. Vaikuntudo was less of a climb and slower, but with five of us in the raft, we had a blast. The training we had undergone was a godsend giving us the muscles to continuously climb the stairs on both rides with hardly any effort. It was our growling stomachs that finally ended our water fun.

The Beachburguer was close to Insano and served burgers, fries, and soft drinks. We could have gone to the Wave Bar to buy liquor, but the fun and sun of the water attractions made everyone but Bradley leery of imbibing alcohol. He grudgingly agreed to drink a Coke instead. Besides, I reminded him that Manny had recommended Orbita, the hot spot in Fortaleza for dancing and drinking. Mentioning Orbita, Lauren's face turned a light shade of pink. She was reminded of Manny's salacious grin when he said Orbita was the best place for a woman to pick up one of the good-looking men. Little did Manny know that a pickup was more to Trevor's liking than Lauren's.

***

Orbita was hopping when we arrived that evening. Al had tried in vain to get us to retire early, but the five of us knew that we would soon be in the jungle and away from earthly pleasures. Trevor and I had talked in our room prior to meeting up with the others to head to the club. Trevor had made it plain that he intended to enjoy the pleasures of a Brazilian hottie if the opportunity arose. He insisted that I also pickup someone and the four of us would retire to our room for fun. I knew that arguing was futile and made up my mind that I was going to participate even though I would have preferred to be fucked by Trevor.

With my mind made up to find a guy who would rival whoever Trevor found, I quickly separated myself from the group and with a Caipirinha (Brazil's national cocktail) in hand I wound through the thick crowd to a young guy standing against a wall. He was about my height and looked as young as I did. Knowing that he could not have gotten into Orbita legally unless he was eighteen, I was not worried if he was younger. Fourteen is the age of consent in Brazil and while I had no intention of fucking someone that young, I knew that the guy was certainly older than that by the shadow on his face.

I was instantly put at ease and interested by the smile the guy gave me as I approached. Above the noise of the music and conversations, Kai introduced himself. I laughed as he told me his name meant "Most Beautiful", but there was no denying that his name matched his physique. He looked hurt at my outburst, but I quickly assured him that I found him most beautiful, too. I explained that I had laughed because I had had the same adjectives in mind as I had approached. His smile beamed and his teeth glowed in the black lights that bathed the wall. Forgiven for my outburst, Kai and I left the cacophony of the club for the street outside. It was not long after that we climbed into a taxi for the hotel. It had been far too easy to pick up Kai as I would soon learn.

With the door safely closed and latched, Kai stripped off his tee shirt exposing his chiseled torso. His bronze skin glistened with a fine sheen of sweat which accentuated every muscle of his well-developed six pack. A thin, fine line of hair traveled from his navel to the waistband of his jeans. Other than that, his chest was as smooth as a baby's butt. Reaching over, he pulled my shirt over my head and stepped back to take in my less defined physique. Without commenting or indicating that he did not like what he saw, he bent his head so he could swirl his tongue over my erect nipples. My groan encouraged Kai to suck and nip those tender spots until I was in a frenzy.

Gently, but firmly, I pushed Kai towards my bed. He left my nipples to unbutton and unzip my jeans. With a hand that slid down my stomach into my jeans, he found I was going bareback. With a smile that could melt anyone's heart, his hands freed my stone-hard cock from the confines of the jeans. Dropping to his knees, Kai tongued my cock as his hands gripped my buttocks. With my cock thoroughly wet with his saliva, Kai swallowed the entire length of my cock and encouraged me to fuck his mouth by pulling my ass towards his face. I obliged and at first slowly fucked this Adonis' mouth. Then taking my hips, Kai encouraged me to pound his throat. I had to pull away from him to prevent unloading my cum down his throat. His look questioned me, and I quickly answered, not with words, but by unbuttoning his jeans. It was exasperating that he had buttons instead of a zipper because it delayed exposing the perfect dick and ass I imagined beneath his jeans.

My imagination had not been disappointed. Kai's treasure trail ended at an uncircumcised dick that was at least eight inches long. His foreskin had pulled tight and the head was exposed and glistened with pre-cum. It was my turn to drop to my knees and worship this phallus worthy of any classical statue. Kai groaned with pleasure as my tongue swiped away the pre-cum at his slit and crown and then traveled up and down the length of his rod. Taking his shaved balls into my mouth, I sucked at each orb eliciting gasps from Kai as each ball was encased in my hot mouth. My pleasure was enhanced by the smooth, hairless sac. Trevor had the hairiest sac I knew of and caused all sorts of problems because I would not suck his balls. With Kai, I could have worshiped his cock and balls all night, but Kai had other ideas.

I did not protest when Kai told me to finish undressing and get into bed. My cock was straining for release and Kai's ass was where it wanted to be. I made my intentions clear by shoving Kai onto the bed while he tried to free his legs from his jeans. Taking the cuffs, I pulled off the jeans and as quickly stripped Kai of his silk bikini briefs. Fully unclad, I took his legs and twisted him so Kai was now lying face down. It was an easy maneuver as Kai was obviously not averse to having his ass eaten and then fucked. Kai spread his cheeks with his hands and invited me to partake of his hole. As my nose neared the light-colored rosebud, a waft of clean soap assailed my nostrils. Kai had obviously expected to get his hole plowed this evening and had cleaned himself well. My tongue soon found itself embedded in that hot channel and our combined moans led credence to our mutual pleasure.

Having my fill of tongue fucking, I leaned over Kai's back to pull a condom and lube out of the bedside table drawer. Kai begged me to fuck him bareback, but I stood firm and insisted that we use the rubber. He finally acquiesced when I threatened to end our time together. Although Kai was beautiful and was very convincing that he had no communicable diseases, I was not taking the chance. I thought I was going to shoot prematurely when Kai rolled over, took the condom, and unrolled it on my cock. Kai took the lube and slathered his hand before fisting my sheathed cock. It would take a lot of concentration not to cum before I had a chance to really enjoy that willing ass.

With cock at the ready, I moved between Kai's raised, muscular legs. That prepared hole was open and inviting. Not able to delay the inevitable, I pushed into Kai and quickly began fucking the living daylights out of him. I had prepared him well with my tongue and fingers so Kai did not even flinch when I pushed into him in one quick motion. He grabbed his own cock and began pounding his meat in cadence with my thrusts. He came seconds before I did and his ass clenching my cock in spasms undid my resolve to make this fucking last. Drenched in sweat despite the air conditioning at full blast, Kai was still the most beautiful guy I had ever fucked.

Pulling out before the condom came off my shrinking cock, I rolled off Kai and laid beside him. We both had to relax and breathe deeply to come down off our sexual highs. When Kai whispered that that was the best fuck he had ever had, I doubted that, but took the compliment without comment. Having our breath back, Kai snuggled next to me and asked if he could fuck me after we rested a bit. I certainly did not refuse his request. I had already decided that he was not leaving the room until his eight inches was inside my ass.

***

I was woken from my nap by the sound of a key in the lock. Kai was spooned at my front and I felt him wake when I moved to look at the door. As the door opened, I relaxed hearing Trevor's voice speaking with someone who was following him into the room. I took a double take when I saw Trevor's pickup. He was the spitting image of Kai. Trevor introduced me to Dai and asked if I had had a good time. I answered with a smile and the fact that Kai and I intended to make it a night to remember. Kai, who had woken up fully, said, "Hi, brother!" Dai did not seem to be surprised to find his brother in my bed. That should have been a warning sign that the evening was shortly to become memorable, but not in the way I had thought.

As quickly as Kai had been stripped to his birthday suit, Trevor and Dai were displayed to the world and I got an instant erection looking at Dai's chiseled body and a hard, uncircumscribed cock that matched Kai's. When Trevor suggested that I take Dai to bed since I had already had Kai, I did not object in the least. Dai was as compliant and willing as his twin and the noise from the other bed was incentive enough to make our sex as wild and uninhibited as Trevor and Kai's. The room filled with the grunts and eventual screams of two couples coming to a climax almost simultaneously. Once again, I drifted off to sleep to rest before Kai returned to me with the promise to fuck my ass.

While I napped, Dai slipped out of our bed without disturbing me, and the next thing I knew, I had the twins holding me down. I struggled briefly before Dai flashed a deadly knife in front of my eyes. Kai, now with an evil grin, stuffed my underwear in my mouth, and then both beauties tied my hands to the bedposts and ankles together. As I lay there fearful for my life, I saw that Trevor had been tied up, too. A shiver of fear went down my spine when the twins finished, and Kai asked his brother if being gagged and tied up was enough to keep Trevor and I subdued. Dai laughed and said, "If they don't lie there and behave, we'll just have to shut them up permanently" as the knife bounced light off its blade. Both Trevor and I laid still and silent. Dai laughed and then began to ransack our room, joined by Kai. The brothers were disappointed with the small amount of cash they found but gave a whoop of joy finding Trevor's credit card. After they finished dressing in their own clothing because neither man was interested in our clothing, Kai told us they were leaving, but would remain outside the room for a while to ensure we did not make a fuss. With that, they both gave us a wave and told us to enjoy our rest.

Trevor and I laid there looking at each other with sad eyes, not moving for about thirty minutes. Trevor decided that was long enough and began struggling with the ropes at his wrists. No matter how he tried, all he did was tighten his bonds until he finally gave up. My attempts ended the same way. We resigned ourselves to waiting until Al came to collect us for our flight.

Trevor and I heard the soft knock at the door and immediately began to make as much noise as a gagged person can. Al must not have heard us because the soft knock became a pounding. Then the noise ended, and we heard Al tell Gary to run to the office and get someone to open the door. Shortly after, the manager unlocked the door and stepped aside for Al to enter. I did not care what the manager thought finding two naked men tied up. Al, on the other hand, quickly pushed the manager back outside and let Gary in before shutting the door.

Gary could not hold back the grin that lit his face finding Trevor and I tied up. Al was not amused. Quickly they untied and ungagged us. Trevor began to rant that we had to call the police and try to find the bastards who had trussed us up and stolen our property. Al told Trevor to shut up. He went on to say that we deserved what we got and were probably incredibly lucky that something worse had not happened to us. More importantly, Al said that our departure would be delayed if we got the police involved, and that could not happen. He suggested that we dress quickly and before leaving the room Trevor should call the credit card company and put a hold on any charges before the brothers cleaned the account out.

We did as we were told and the Chase representative was helpful, but regretfully could not replace the card in time for our departure or during the short time we would be in Belem. Trevor was distraught that he would not have access to his Daddy's money, but I was just grateful that we had come out of the ordeal embarrassed but unscathed.

Thankfully, Gary kept his mouth shut and did not say anything to Lauren or Bradley on the ride to the airport. Given the hour, we all fell asleep once the plane reached cruising altitude. As I nodded off, I thanked my lucky stars we had survived Kai and Dai's assault and Gary's silence.

BELEM

The professor was not expecting our arrival in Belem to coincide with the grand re-opening of the Theatro Nossa Senhora da Paz. The Theatro da Paz was founded on February 15, 1878, during the golden age of rubber, when there was a great economic growth in the Amazon region. It was built following neoclassical architecture lines and is considered the most important culture house in northern Brazil. During its heyday, the world's most famous lyrical companies featured their presentations in the theater, but after that, it had been neglected and suffered from bad maintenance. Under the current federal administration, the Theatro finally received the necessary funds to bring it back to its glory. The festival was the culmination of that renovation.

We were forewarned by the van driver who drove us from Belem Airport into the city that we might have to walk to reach our final destination. We all breathed a sigh of relief that we were only carrying backpacks with the essentials and a change of clothing. The rest of our supplies would be trucked from the airport to the wharf for our departure the next day. When questioned, Bento, the driver, explained that the festival celebrating Belem's cultural pearl, the Theatro, had swollen the city's population and many streets were closed. The city was teeming with the affluent patrons of music and theater, crowds of onlookers straining to glimpse the rich and famous, and hordes of pickpockets, petty thieves and hardened criminals who preyed on their fellow citizens and especially tourists. True to his word, Bento dropped us off more than a kilometer away from our lodging. There was nothing to do but distribute our belongings among us and begin the trek to the Grand Hostel Belem. The closer we got to Republic Square, the more difficult it was to move forward. Our lily-white group quickly drew attention among the darker-skinned natives. Like a magnet drawing iron filings to itself, our group attracted the undesirables. I was not the only one to draw my backpack from my shoulder to my chest and check that valuables were safely tucked in with closed zippers.

Even so, there was no mistaking the touch of fingers checking my pockets both on my rear and front. I chuckled to myself when one brazen pickpocket found my stiff cock instead of a treasure when he dug into my shorts pocket. My unruly tool had reacted to more than a few nearly naked guys in the crowd. Although the crowd was primarily well dressed and turned out, there were groups of men and women attired in costumes. The women were clothed in scant bikinis with multitudes of feathers and flashy jewelry. The men wore Speedos or thongs with bracelets and armlets of colorful feathers. I was reminded of pictures of Mardi Gras celebrations in Brazil that had appeared on television and magazines. The women did not hold my interest, but the men were a different story. I turned, expecting my action to scare the would-be thief away. To my surprise, the barely pubescent miscreant broke into a wide smile and beckoned me to follow. The little bugger was propositioning me and lewdly sucked his middle finger miming what his cute little lips would do to my rod. His dirty face turned ugly when I refused his invitation and I expected to be attacked. I had about a two-foot advantage in size, but that would not do me much good against the nicked, rusted blade that magically appeared in the urchin's hand. The situation could easily have escalated into an ugly altercation, but I was saved by the sudden appearance of a burly policeman. The policial were not much better than the criminals, but Providence was on my side that day. The officer had only to raise his billy club to entice the pint-sized delinquent to vacate the scene. Instead of waiting for the customary bribe to pass between us, the officer tipped his cap and rapidly moved toward an affluent older couple who were being accosted by a small gang of ruffians.

Although my encounter with the kid lasted only a minute or two and did not result in disaster, I suddenly felt anxious. My skin crawled with each brush of another person's body. The crowd swelled confining me in a fetid cocoon. The air filled with moisture and heat, making it difficult to breathe. One moment I was lucid and hypersensitive to my surroundings; the next I found myself on the ground surrounded by the professor, Trevor, and the others. Professor Byrne was fanning my face with his wide-brimmed sombrero. My face felt sticky and wet. When I brushed my fingers across my brow, they came away red with my blood. Apparently, I had fainted and fallen face first onto the cobbled road.

I appreciated the steady arm Trevor offered me when I stood on wobbly legs. I felt foolish having fainted, but there was palpable relief on my fellow travelers' faces. I think the blood which freely flowed from my head gash bothered some of them. The sight of blood would soon elicit almost no reaction other than fear later in our travels into the jungle. Leaning against Trevor, the group surrounded me and pushed through the crowd.

I had only the briefest glimpse of the Theater of Peace. Although our passage past the neoclassical facade of the theater was cleared by the professor and the sight of my bloody visage, I could barely see beyond placing my feet carefully one in front of the other to avoid another fall. The blood was a nuisance as it flowed over my brow. Constant swiping prevented me from being blinded. I was loathed to stop and find something to stem the bleeding. My only thought was to escape the crowd and find safety in our hostel.

When our group finally reached the other side of the plaza fronting the theater and the crowd was significantly smaller, Professor Byrne called a halt to our progress. I sank to my butt with the help of Trevor and with relief. Having solid ground beneath my ass allowed me to relax physically and mentally. We were not far from the hostel, but everyone in the group knew I needed a break. I should have felt silly, but the heat, the pounding in my temple, and the constant ebb and flow of humanity around me forced a halt to our progress. I would have paid my last Real, if I had one after the night before, for a taxi to take me the rest of the way, but Avenida Pres. Vargas was closed to vehicular traffic. I took the opportunity to pull a bandana from my backpack to attempt to stem the blood.

There was nothing to be gained sitting on the pavement with my back against the Federal Savings Bank stone facade. With Trevor's help, I got back on my feet and the professor and my compatriots acted as a phalanx to part the hordes so I could pass unmolested. Some of the natives looked twice at our little juggernaut. I figured they must have thought some important personage was making his or her way without regard for others. One look at the blood-caked bandana that I now had pressed to my temple was enough for the gawkers to turn away and hurry on their way.

It was with a collective sigh of relief that the group saw our destination just ahead. The Grand Hostel was a brightly colored, well-lit establishment set among less auspicious buildings. My spirits lifted seeing the young guests enjoying beers and other libations out in front of the main doors. Amid the squalor of nearby alleys and the general malaise of the neighborhood, the hostel was the crown jewel. The partygoers parted like the Red Sea when they spied my blood-soaked head. Our group swept into the lobby with the professor striding to the front desk. I heard him ask if there was a doctor nearby as I collapsed into well-worn, but comfortable armchair. One of the staff quickly arrived at my side with a worn, but clean towel to prevent me bleeding on the furniture. With his crotch practically in my face, I found myself stiffening involuntarily. I went to full mast as my eyes traveled his body to his face. He wore stiffly creased black trousers, a brilliant white button-down shirt with the top two buttons undone. An expanse of smooth skin was exposed by his open shirt front. His face was smooth and there was no hint of a beard shadow. The lips were full and pink, a Romanesque nose separated brown eyes. A mop of black hair was long in the front which fell across his eyes as he looked down at me. With a flick of his fingers, the mop was swept back to reveal those two deep pools that looked at me.

Valentim, as I learned later, was aptly named. I had long been fascinated with the meanings of names. Valentim, a variant of Valentine, meant strong and healthy, and the bellhop was the epitome of both. I blushed when Valentim winked. He had caught me staring, but in the way of young, cosmopolitan Brazilians, he was not embarrassed in the least by my staring. It did not faze him that my gaze had lingered on his crotch. It was difficult to read his face. I could not tell if he was interested or was just doing his job until later.

The manager did call for a doctor and Valentim volunteered to help me upstairs to the rooms our group was assigned. I was glad for his assistance and I quickly found out that the young man was not averse to my holding on tight to his waist. Unabashedly, I admit I leaned into him much more than my condition warranted. The smile Valentim gave me as he guided me up the stairs bode well for some tender, loving care ahead. My mental plans for the two of us took a negative turn when we entered the room and I saw not just a couple of twin beds, but bunk beds lining the walls. The Grand Hostel was aptly named. The Grand was an inexpensive, supervised group lodging facility where privacy was not expected nor provided. The male members of our group would bunk together, and Lauren was assigned to a female room. The disappointment was evident on my face and again Valentim gave me a wink. It was not the time or place to query him on what he was thinking with the rest of the group crowding into the room and claiming their bunks. In deference to my condition, I was given a lower bunk near the window. Valentim guided me to the bunk and helped me to sit on the edge of the mattress. Once again, I was eye level with his crotch. This time, there was no mistaking that Valentim was sexually excited. It was a cruel joke that I had this gorgeous, well-endowed young man interested in me in the same way I wanted him, and I was in a room where an encounter just would not happen. I am not a prude but having sex in front of the professor given our history and the straight members of our party just was not going to happen. I knew that any sex play with Valentim would be a threesome with Trevor. Valentim must have read my mind because he gave me yet another wink and a quick squeeze on the arm before turning for the door.

The sight of his tightly clad ass moving away from me was almost too much to take. In the short time it took for Valentim to get to the door, I figured out a way I could get some privacy. In an unnecessarily loud voice, I told the professor that I was not feeling hungry and the group should go find something to eat. I knew Valentim got my cryptic message because he turned and gave me that cute wink for the final time. The questions that arose about leaving me on my own were immediately drowned with the auspicious arrival of the doctor with Valentim in tow. Although the doctor spoke no English, the waving of his arms to clear the room coupled with Valentim explaining that the doctor wanted to examine and treat me in privacy ushered my fellow travelers out the door. Valentim remained to interpret for me. The professor told me he would bring something back to eat on his return. I did not respond since I did not want to delay his departure. I was not sure how long it would take the doctor, but I knew time was of an essence. Dinner would not take all night and there would be precious little time as it was to get Valentim naked and into bed.

The doctor was proficient and efficient. With Valentim translating, the doctor told me that scalp wounds bled profusely, and the actual damage was slight. Given the location of the wound beneath my hair, the doctor opted not to suture the wound for cosmetic reasons. After removing the hair around the wound, the doctor used a pressure bandage to stem the blood flow and cover the wound. The topical anesthetic made the procedure pain-free and I was secretly glad the doctor had not given me a sedative. That would have dashed all the plans I had for Valentim once the doctor departed. I imagined that the white bandage that ran from under my chin over my scalp was not sexy at all, but it did not seem to bother Valentim. When the doctor finished, Valentim ushered him out the door, turned, and told me he would be right back. The lust in his eyes was unmistakable. In his absence, I quickly shed my clothing and laid down on the sheet Valentim had thoughtfully provided. With what I planned for the stud, I preferred not to have my sleeping bag stained or smelling of sex.

It was not long before the door opened and Valentim slid into the room. His tongue slid across his full lips and his eyes never left my erect cock as he crossed the room. He flung his clothes as he hastily removed them. As much as I would have preferred to remove each article of his clothing slowly and sensuously, we both knew that time was not on our side. He did stop moving toward me when I raised my hand and told him to slowly remove his rod stretched briefs in front of me. A groan escaped me as he pulled the briefs away from his uncircumscribed cock which was spectacular. Valentim was not especially endowed, but his cock was beautiful. The ring of black, clipped pubic hair was a perfect contrast to the light-colored rod and purplish crown that already dripped with pre-cum. Valentim did not hesitate to offer me his cock when I licked my lips beckoning him forward. By the time the group returned to the room, I was facing the wall deeply asleep and absolutely sated. I did not care if the room smelled of sex. I certainly did not care that the food the professor had brought me would go to waste. After the hour or so with Valentim, I was exhausted.

The next morning, I awoke with my head stuck to the small inflatable pillow I slept with. The bleeding had resumed sometime during the night soaking the bandage. The professor was quick enough to prevent me from ripping the pillow away and re-opening the wound. With gentle fingers, he carefully peeled away the pillow as I waited impatiently. I certainly did not want the wound to bleed again, but I smelled from the sex the night before and I was famished. Whether the professor picked up on the telltale odor or not, he did not let on. Trevor, on the other hand, could not help snicker before turning away. Once the pillow was removed, I headed to the communal shower room to hastily clean up. The group was ready to go out for breakfast and I was not going to be left behind.

Trevor entered the shower room soon after I began soaping up. I was not surprised he had followed me. Trevor flatly stated that he had told the group that he thought I should not be left alone given my injury. It was a feeble excuse, but no one questioned him. I knew the real reason he had come in. The asshole wanted a minute-to-minute description of what had happened the night before. I denied anything had happened enough times that Trevor finally gave up and left. The annoyance I felt being grilled had one benefit; I did not get aroused which helped convince Trevor that my lie was the truth.

I met everyone down in the lobby. Valentim was nowhere to be seen, which was to my liking because I did not need Trevor making lewd comments or even rolling his eyes. It was none of his damn business who I fucked or who fucked me. We were a couple, but his actions with others gave him no right to prevent me from wandering. There had been enough times when Trevor had sex with other guys, and I saw no reason I could not do so, too. What I had had with Valentim the evening before was a pleasant memory and Trevor had no right to ruin it. I believed that by the time Valentim returned for work, we would be checked out and on our way up the Amazon.

The little cafe was surprisingly clean and modern inside. I had expected far less hygienic conditions looking at the exterior of the building. The Formica topped tables and padded chairs were spotless. Even the cutlery shone without one fingerprint in evidence. Our group was lucky to find two tables and enough chairs to sit together and the mood was upbeat. We all hid our nerves well as we discussed the journey ahead waiting for our food. The fact we were no longer sitting in the professor's office in the U.S. planning and the advent of our journey into the unknown was upon us did cause some stomach flutters, but the bounty of food that we had ordered arrived and kept us from thinking too much. Brazil's famous cheese rolls, pao de queijo, were a smash. The large platter of ham and cheeses, and my favorite, the manioc crepes prevented us from talking as we stuffed ourselves. The tribulations from the day before were pushed back in my thoughts. Even the bandaging did not bother me as I gorged on the crepes. I took the professor's words to heart that this breakfast was probably the last feast we would share in the weeks ahead.

Fully sated and with new resolve, the group headed to the hostel to gather our belongings and make our way to the docks. The crowds had grown since we had entered the cafe, but we were all heading in the same direction at least for a short time. I felt myself swept along in the tide of humanity. Although our boat was not scheduled to leave until after the midday siesta, not one of us wanted to miss that boat. The professor decided we should leave the hostel earlier than originally planned. We had all had enough of Belem and the crazy crowds. That feeling was exacerbated by the tide of people heading to Republic Park making our passage in the opposite direction a constant battle. I was glad we had left the hostel when we did. Although the dock where we were headed to was only about two kilometers from the hostel, we were not making great time. My only regret about our early departure was that I was unable to spend some time with Valentim. The sweet thing had come to the hostel before work just to see me.

We both knew that there was no future for us, but it was still difficult for both of us to say goodbye. Valentim even suggested he would quit his job and join our expedition just to be with me, but I knew that was not going to fly with the professor. The guy was cool with Trevor and me being gay, but I was sure the professor would not allow Valentim on the expedition. If I was honest with myself, I also did not want Valentim to come along because I suspected Trevor would make a play for the sweet thing. That would just be too much drama given the deep-seated feelings I still had for Trevor.

By the time we got to the boat, everyone, but the professor, was exhausted and drenched in sweat. He let us grumble and groan as we settled on the wharf. When everyone was seated, the professor chided us for our complaints and told us that sooner rather than later we would really know what exhaustion and sweat were. If anyone of us had second thoughts about continuing our expedition, it was there on the wharf that the decision to not go had to be made. Not one of us chose to end our participation, though there would be many times in the coming weeks that I regretted not leaving then. I am sure most of our bravado that day stemmed from the misconception that we were somehow special. I must admit that I did feel superior watching the stevedores in their ragged clothing loading the boats tied along the wharf.

In comparison to the well-fed, well-heeled festival goers, the men who labored nearby wore torn, filthy britches that may have been white at one time, but now ranged from gray to brownish-black. Few wore a shirt. Those that did had garments in the same sad shape as their pants. I did have to admire the muscles that rippled and strained under the loads. It was unfortunate all that strength was layered in sweat and filth. As much as I admire the male physique, I felt no desire for the men. I could not even envision them cleaned up and presentable. It looked like none had bathed since the beginning of their employment. It was impossible to conceive the squalid conditions they likely lived in. All I felt was pity for them. I eventually turned away, dangled my feet off the edge of the wharf, and watched the boats of all sizes powering past. No majestic yachts or sailboats went by. This was definitely a working harbor with craft made to carry goods rather than people.

So, I was pleasantly surprised when our vessel eventually arrived. There was no doubt the boat plied the waters hauling goods given its wide girth and large flat stern. I saw my own gear among the boxes, bales, and bags that filled the stern. What made the Indiano different was the double deck of cabins that filled mid-ships and the bow. It was definitely a cross between a steamer and barge. The Indiano also stood out for the brightly colored paintwork that was obviously cared for. Our vessel stood out like a diamond among coal. My favorable opinion was heightened by the sure way the captain brought the Indiano alongside the wharf. I was impressed with the captain's seamanship and his helper's expertise in securing the boat to the dock. The young man handling the hawser was a treat for the eyes. Christo, I would soon learn, was not only gorgeous to look at, but also a closeted gay. It seemed to be an auspicious start to our river journey.

Christo

Skete-Nat-su-Portrait 29

Christo leapt onto the wharf and began loading our belongings, smiling widely and telling us that he would handle everything. He had no trouble picking up and taking even the heaviest items onboard. I was glad that I was able to watch the man work from the wharf rather than being onboard. My interest was obvious to Christo and he did not bat an eyelash, but a small smile crossed his lips as he went back and forth in front of me. As for Trevor, Christo did not give him more than a glance. I could see Trevor's reaction plainly on his face. The snub would only encourage Trevor more to break down Christo' defenses and get him into bed, though neither of us knew whether Christo was gay or not.

I had the distinct impression that Christo was coming onto me. I could swear that he was flexing his muscles as he toted the packages and boxes onboard. When all the baggage was loaded, Christo stood on deck and beckoned me aboard. I boarded and introduced myself. Christo's handshake nearly crushed my hand and the pressure must have been evident on my face. He immediately loosened his grasp and was about to say something when Al approached.

Al pulled out some Reals from his pocket and handed them to Christo. With a polite "thank you", Christo stuffed the money into his front pocket. I could swear that he purposely pulled the loose fabric tight to reveal a nice package beneath the cloth as he faced me. I gave him a big smile and determined right then that Christo was gay and interested in me, not Trevor. I did not know how we would accomplish it, but I intended to taste that cock before we disembarked upriver. Valentim was already a memory and Christo was going to be my next sex partner when Trevor was out of sight.

One would think that my love for Trevor would preclude having trysts with any good-looking guy that showed any interest in me. My defense is that Trevor fucked anyone he was attracted to without giving me a thought. In the beginning I had been distraught when Trevor cheated on me but was always mollified by the attention Trevor paid me after his conquests. Now, I took advantage whenever a guy was willing to have sex with me. After all, Trevor had not sealed his devotion to me with a ring or much of anything except sex. True, he bought me gifts and most recently had paid to outfit me for the expedition. However, the money he lavishly spent on me was not really his. That Chase Palladium card was always at the ready to buy whatever Trevor wanted or thought I wanted or needed. Some would call me a kept boy or a gold digger, but I did believe I loved Trevor even when we cheated on each other. I knew I worried more about the cheating than Trevor. He simply believed that the sex and attention he paid me was sufficient to allay any concerns I might have.

Christo remained in place. I surmised that he wanted to talk with me but hesitated because Al had not moved away. The awkwardness ended with a shout down from the bridge for Christo to free the Indiano from the wharf. Christo managed to give me a wink before he turned and headed to the stern to free the hawser.

Al's hand on my arm drew my attention from Christo's receding ass. In a quiet voice, Al told me to keep my cock in my pants and not create a problem aboard the Indiano. When I asked why he thought I might cause an incident, Al stated that he had witnessed Trevor's and my interest in Christo. He had already talked to Trevor and laid down the law. Now it was my turn. As stern as Al's words were, I also noticed that his eyes looked sad. Unsaid was the knowledge that Al still harbored strong feelings for me. As if he read my mind, Al said that he was heart-broken finding me tied up by the twin brothers. Al purposely left Trevor out of the equation. He thought that what we had shared was enough to tide my libido over until we returned to the States. There was jealousy in his tone, and I knew that I had to have a heart-to-heart with Al when a better opportunity presented itself. At that moment, I promised Al I would behave even though I childishly crossed my fingers behind my back.

A reckoning could wait until later. Al needed to know that when everything was said and done, I loved Trevor even if that was hard to understand for most folks. I knew Al would not understand why I had sex with other guys if I loved Trevor. If I could convince Trevor he did not need anyone except me, I would gladly do anything to make that happen. In reality, I knew my love for Trevor was irrational, but I could not help it. I had not been entirely honest with Al during our summer assignations. I led him to believe that Trevor did not mean much more to me than a good friend with occasional benefits. Right now, Al was angry at both Trevor and me. It was not the time to tell Al that I did care for him, but I did not love him.

Departure

I stayed above deck to watch as Christo expertly freed the Indiano from the wharf. With a wave to the onlookers onshore, Christo ascended the ladder to the pilothouse and disappeared from my view. I was frustrated because I had not been able to corral Christo before our departure. Now it looked like any opportunity would not occur if Christo stayed in the pilothouse and below decks was now unavailable with the others aboard.

With a sigh, I turned back to the wharf to wave to the onlookers. My eyes caught sight of one man who stood out in the crowd. The rest of the multitude were waving and calling out to the other passengers on deck. The man I had spied did not look in a jovial mood and once the Indiano was away from the wharf, I watched as the man began talking to someone on his phone.

João watched them embark on the river boat and pulled out his cell. In muted tones, he reported their departure to the unidentified man who answered his call. Replacing the cell in his pocket, João sauntered away from the quay. The 100 Real he had been paid meant a good night ahead at the bordello. He would worry about where he would make money the next day. There seemed to always be someone who called on him to be on watch for any foreigners headed up the Amazon.

As João contemplated the delights ahead of him, Afonso was on the phone to his boss. Duarte Ferreira listened to his subordinate; then gave instructions to his trusted subordinado. Afonso was not surprised by the orders his chefe gave him in clipped, terse phrases. Afonso had often followed the same instructions to his chefe's satisfaction and Afonso's bank account had swelled to a tidy sum. There was, of course, the danger in executing his instructions, but that bank account would ensure his beautiful wife and five children would not starve or be homeless if he did not return.

As Afonso ended the call, his wife, Mariana, knocked on his study door. She knew never to enter his study when the door was closed without express permission from her husband. Mariana chose not to question or show any interest in what Afonso did for work. She was content with the fine house and generosity her husband lavished on her and their brood. When Mariana did ponder where the money came from, she surmised that her husband's occupation was not legal. None of their social circle was from old money. Her friends were as clueless as she was about their husbands' source of income, but all the women were certain their husbands were not involved in legitimate enterprises. Like Mariana, the women either chose not to question their husbands or were told to mind their own business if they showed too much interest.

Mariana entered the study after hearing Afonso's "Entrar". Her husband was half-way to the door to greet his wife. They embraced with passion, the early morning tryst still on their minds. Afonso's hands cupped his wife's ass, pulling her close to feel the hard bulge in his pants. His ardor was insatiable, thought Mariana, but the only times she had refused him were immediately after she had given birth to each of their children. Although she was sore from earlier that morning, Mariana knew she would not refuse her husband if he wanted her. It really was not a sacrifice or chore to be loved by her well-endowed man.

Afonso let his lust take over and picked up his beautiful, petite wife. Setting her ass on the credenza, he unzipped and drew down his pants as Mariana lifted her skirts. Afonso and Mariana always donned traditional dress other than undergarments. Soon after their marriage, Afonso had demanded Mariana never wear undergarments. He wanted to imagine her privates unencumbered and ready for his cock whenever the mood struck him. It was the reason Afonso went commando. One zipper was all that came between his lust and his gorgeous mate. Even after five children, Mariana was as slender and voluptuous as the day they met.

Fifteen years prior Mariana caught Afonso's eye as he perused the wedding reception. There were many single, good-looking young women in attendance, but Mariana outshone the rest. Afonso took a circuitous route towards Mariana. Since there were quite a few females in attendance who Afonso had bedded and discarded, he had to avoid them, but his eyes never left Mariana.

Mariana's friend, Sofia, had alerted her to Afonso's approach and the two girls watched, feigning ignorance, as he advanced. Mariana and Sofia were the best of friends and had shared confidences and even boys, but that night, each wanted Afonso to choose her over the other. Both knew of Afonso's reputation with women, which only increased their agitation, and the purported length of his cock which intensified the wetness between their legs. By the time Afonso reached the pair, Sofia was giddy and nearly faint with anticipation. Mariana maintained a cool, aloof demeanor. When Afonso stepped between the two girls, facing Mariana, tears flooded Sofia's eyes. Weeping silently, Sofia left her friend to the cad. Sofia was distraught enough to not even care what might happen to Mariana.

As for Mariana, she struggled internally to calm her nerves. Although she had been as anxious as Sofia for Afonso to choose her, the reality was that Mariana was scared to death. Sure, she had had a few boys strung along, but although she told Sofia she had "done it" with the boys, Mariana was still a virgin. Mariana knew that Afonso was not going to play her games. If she agreed to go off with him, he would take her maidenhead and she had vowed only her husband would have that. The trick was to make sure Afonso remained interested in her without sticking his cock in her before their wedding day. As determined as Mariana was, the look Afonso gave her as they stood a respectable distance apart, undermined her resolve. In a flash of insight, Mariana understood why other girls went to bed with the scoundrel.

That scoundrel knew that frightened, but submissive, look Mariana gave him meant he would get his way with the young beauty. There was no doubt in his mind that once alone with Mariana, his cock would be firmly entrenched in her. How to get her out of the reception and into bed was the conundrum he faced. Afonso had already spied Mariana's father making his way across the room towards him. Afonso's reputation was well enough known that fathers often came between Afonso and the young women he wanted. What those fathers did not know was that their quest to protect their daughters was doomed from the start. The young women, who Afonso bedded, did so in direct contravention of their fathers. That was how strong Afonso's influence and allure was in getting even the most prim and proper young lady into his bed.

Mariana's eyes widened as she listened to Afonso's whispered words. Her conscience screamed to refuse, but her libido ruled her actions. She gave her arm to Afonso who escorted her in the opposite direction from her father. Luckily for Afonso, Mariana's father was waylaid by his business associate and her father gave up the chase. Afonso quickly looked back and saw he was now safely away from Mariana's father. With a confidence born of experience, Afonso took a willing Mariana to the pool house, locked the door, and as Mariana had surmised, seized his prize.

For all his carousing and womanizing, Afonso did the proper thing when Mariana called on him to say that she was pregnant. It was not really a difficult decision for Afonso as he had become smitten with Mariana. Mariana proved to be the perfect wife. She was a wonderful mother to their children, kept an orderly house, performed as a promiscuous lover, and most importantly, kept her thoughts to herself when it came to how Afonso amassed his wealth.

None of those memories were present now as Afonso rutted with his wife. With a cry from both of them as they reached a mutual climax, Afonso remained in place as he regained his breathing then slipped from inside Mariana. Demurely, she pulled her dress back into place and after a chaste kiss, left Afonso to clean himself in the private half bath attached to his study. When Afonso was done, he returned to his desk to contemplate the instructions he had been given by his chefe. He was certain that the operation would be a success, but there was work to be done to ensure Senhor Ferreira was satisfied and generous. Putting the pleasure of fucking his wife out of his mind, Afonso picked up the phone to gather his crew.

Endocannibalism

The day after departing Belem, we came upon a Yanomami village in the late afternoon. The first report of the Yanomami occurred in 1759. Obviously, these people existed before then, but they resided far from the reaches of the conquistadores and priests who encountered other tribes from about 1630 on. There are four subdivisions of the Yanomami. The Senema live in the northern region of the Yanomami region; the Ninam and Yanomam in the southeastern, and the Yanomamo in the southwestern. Even now, ninety-five percent of Yanomami avoid civilization, so the professor was quite surprised to find Senema in this village especially as they have a history of violent confrontations with outsiders. It was an anomaly to have this village located so close to Belem, but a riverside village was not unusual much farther upriver. Groups of Yanomami live in villages usually consisting of their children and extended families. The communities were often polyandrous, though polygyny was also practiced. Villages vary in size, but usually contain between 50 and 400 native people. Calling this group of people a village was a stretch as we counted only 27 natives. Given the fact that the Senema normally live in autonomous villages far from other people, we soon learned that this village had been chased off their ancestral lands by the relentless logging industry. In earlier times, the Yanomami suffered at the hands of gold prospectors and mining. Now, the logging industry was encroaching on Yanomami ancestral lands and the Brazilian government's establishment of a 36,000 square mile preserve in 1991. Bloodshed had decimated most of the males of this particular tribe who had fought the loggers. The village was composed of a few old codgers, many widows, and a horde of children varying in age from infants to adolescents.

Common sense had persuaded the matriarch to gather her clan and find a more peaceful location to bring up the children. This was quite a surprise to us because the Yanomami are notorious for subjugating their women. To have a woman in a position of leadership was unheard of and the professor would not have believed it possible until we came upon this village. A tuxawa (headman) acts as the leader of each village, but no single leader presides over the whole of those classified as Yanomami. Headmen gain political power by demonstrating skill in settling disputes both within the village and with neighbouring communities. A consensus of mature males is usually required for action that involves the community.30 Under closer visual examination, Yarima, the matriarch, bore the scars of past beatings and mutilation she received from her now deceased husband and any other male who took a fancy to beating her. In fact, most of the widows bore scars incurred from the wrath of the male members of the tribe. We were astonished that the old men in the village had accepted Yarima as their village leader. It was a testament to Yarima's intelligence and strength that she now led the village. _I_ n Yanomami culture, a woman can become a _shaman_ , but not a _headman_. This is due to the fact that headmen are expected to be peacekeepers and valiant warriors, both of which require force and violence, which women are not considered to have. 31

We soon learned that the settlement was relatively new. These Senema had not yet employed the slash and burn technique to create gardens. They were subsisting on fishing and the meat from rarely successful hunting forays by children who had not yet gained the experience the men would have imparted. In addition, the jungle near this village did not yield the bounty the tribe had found in deeper jungle. None of the children or adults bore signs of malnutrition, but there was the threat of illness down the road if their diet did not encompass a diversity of food.

Like their contemporaries deep in the jungle, these Senema had built the communal dwelling called the Shabono. Believed to be the earthly version of their gods' dwellings, the Shabono was a structure of wood and plant material with thatched roofs. Divided into sections for each family group, the Shabono had a large communal open-air courtyard in the center of the dwelling. Typically, a Shabono was oval shaped and the outer walls were the perimeter of the village. In well-established large communities, a palisade was often built beyond the perimeter of the Shabono. Each family has its own hearth where food is prepared and cooked during the day. At night, hammocks are slung near the fire which is stoked all night to keep people warm. This Shabono was much smaller than usual, the professor explained, because so many of the tribe had been killed. The professor also pointed out that the refinements expected in most Shabono were missing in this dwelling. The roof was not the elaborate two-part cantilevered structure one would normally find in a Shabono. In fact, this roof was haphazardly constructed, and it was obvious from the gullies beneath the fronds that water often came through the roof. Instead of the normal four main doors, there were breaks in the structure to allow ingress and egress. However, each family group did have their own section marked by support posts where their hammocks were hung, cooking was done in separate hearths, and belongings were stored on rickety shelves. Many of the hammocks held the surviving elders. Most of the youngest children were free to roam if they remained within sight of the Shabono. For the siblings and cousins who ranged in age from eight to eighteen, the females were employed in domestic chores while the few surviving male adolescents could be seen preparing hunting weapons and snares.

I made a mental note that the male teenagers who had survived appeared to be quite scrawny and not as sinewy and muscular as one would expect of their age group in Senema culture. So, it was not much of a surprise when one of the older women actually struck one of the youths. Instead of responding, the young man took the beating without retaliation or complaint. I could not tell what had transpired to warrant the beating but knew that no self-respecting Senema male would allow a woman to strike him under normal circumstances. It piqued my curiosity so once the woman moved away, I decided to question the youth. Not knowing the language, I had to rely on one of my fellow passengers from the Indiano. The man had been friendly on the trip from Belem and while he showed no interest in me sexually, he was more than willing to act as translator.

It was obvious from the way Mukashe responded to my presence and queries that the youth was not the virile, masculine specimen one would expect of male Senema. In fact, the way he looked at me gave me the distinct impression that Mukashe would have willingly gone into the jungle for some one-on-one sex. There was no doubt in my mind that Mukashe was as gay as I was, and I was certain that the tribe knew it as well. Unashamed, Mukashe admitted he was uninterested in females. I was glad that my translator was not a homophobe and translated Mukashe's proclamation without rancor or even a slight hesitation. I wondered if my new friend had any designs on me, but this was not the time or place to find out. Being gay would explain why the woman felt she could hit Mukashe and not face retaliation. It also explained why the other youths sat apart from Mukashe. Homosexuality was not unusual in most Yanomami villages for males of Mukashe's age. Teenage males frequently had homosexual affairs because there were never enough females of their age group. Females were often taken as wives by the men leaving the youth to find other outlets for their libido. However, with the males now outnumbered by females of all ages, Mukashe's interest in guys was no longer acceptable. Mukashe should have been interested in taking one of the young women as his wife and doing his duty to repopulate the tribe. This village's dire straits had to be remedied by all inhabitants which meant the usual adolescent homosexual relationships had to be discarded.

Because the Yanomami culture emphasizes warfare as a necessary part of life, and hunting was a pre-requisite of survival, males are preferred. It was not unknown for women to kill female infants to avoid displeasing their husbands. In their present situation, this village now had a plethora of females and not enough males to guarantee the survival of the tribe. Although Mukashe and his contemporaries spent most of their life to this point with their mothers, they already knew that there were significant differences between males and females as far as status and position were concerned. From an early age, boys were spoiled by the male members of the tribe and boys were rarely punished for lording it over their female counterparts. Mukashe had no stomach for taking his rightful place in the tribe. He simply wanted life to remain as it had been up to the tragic raid that took not only his father and uncles, but the boy who had stolen Mukashe's heart and was one of the slain.

There were other things about this group that surprised us. Unlike their brethren still in the jungle, these Senema led by Yarima appeared to be embracing modern life. While the older men and women were adorned with tattoos and piercings, none of the older children had these traditional emblems of the Yanomami reserved for children who had reached puberty. In addition, only the noticeably young were naked. The other members of the tribe were clothed in modern dress. None of the clothing articles were new and most looked like hand-me-down rags. Had we not known this group was Senema, we would have guessed they were dirt-poor Brazilians not members of a proud and often violent tribe.

In contrast to the modernity that faced us, we soon learned this village still practiced endocannibalism. The practice of consuming the flesh of deceased community members is not an uncommon practice of a number of peoples, such as the Mayoruna, Amahuaca and Wari. The Yanomami would not be considered strict adherents to endocannibalism because they did not actually eat the flesh of the dead. In the Yanomami variation, they ground up the bones of cremated kinsmen and consumed this in an act of mourning. Traditionally, the Yanomami would wrap the bodies in leaves, leave them in the jungle close to the shaman's hut, and let the bodies decompose naturally aided by insects. Burial was too slow and tedious a process in the Amazonian jungle. After 30 to 45 days, the bones would be collected and cremated. Cremation allowed the survivors to process the bones for consumption, thereby keeping the tribe member's spirit alive for generations. The ashes would then be mixed with fermented bananas to create a soup. The soup would be normally consumed by the entire village in one sitting. In the case of multiple deaths due to warfare, the ashes would be divided and a portion would be saved for the annual day of remembrance. The consumption of ground-up bones and ashes of cremated kinsmen is still classified as endocannibalism, although, strictly speaking, "flesh" is not eaten. 18

Traditionally, endocannibalism is practiced because its adherents do not believe death is a natural occurrence. The Yanomami people's traditions are shaped by the belief that the natural and spiritual world are a unified force; nature creates everything and is sacred. They believe that their fate, and the fate of all people, is inescapably linked to the fate of the environment; with its destruction, humanity is committing suicide. Their spiritual leader is a shaman.

In the case of this tribe, the arrival of the loggers and the battle that took the Yanomami men was seen as a result of the loggers' "shaman" sending evil spirits (the loggers) to kill the natives. After the massacre, the women were allowed by the loggers to collect their dead for cremation. However, given the danger of remaining within easy reach of the loggers, Yarima had the corpses wrapped in leaves, loaded on travois, and dragged deeper into the jungle. With their shaman being one of the deceased, Yarima was not certain the dead spirits would be protected, but there was nothing she could do about that.

What she did know was that the bodies did have to be cremated and the women had to consume the brew, but she was stymied. Tradition always called for consuming the dead on the night a revenge raid was planned. The ashes could not be consumed if avenging the deaths was not done. This would mean that the spirits of the dead men would be in limbo. However, Yarima knew the remaining tribe members would never mount a retaliatory raid on the loggers. How she would solve this dilemma was the question facing her and the tribe. The professor could not come up with a solution even though Yarima most likely would have welcomed a resolution even though he was not a tribal member. I could only hope that Yarima would find some way to resolve this issue without sacrificing the surviving members of the tribe.

Yarima did invite us to partake of the evening meal, but the professor decided to push on. Nothing was said outright, but it was obvious the professor did not want our group eating their meager rations. Also unsaid, but certainly on all our minds, was the fact that we were safer onboard the boat once night fell than in the village. There was no belligerence or threats made, but the way the adolescents looked at our clothing and belongings did make many of us uncomfortable. So, I was relieved when Christo pushed us away from the riverbank and the engine coughed to life. Al asked the captain to anchor in the river so we could return in the morning. The Indiano drifted a short distance south of the village until the anchor firmly set.

During the night, everyone aboard the Indiano was awakened by screams coming from shore. A few of the passengers wanted the captain to return to the village, but he refused. Whatever was happening in the village would not bode well for his charges. The screams eventually died, and our party remained on deck awaiting the dawn. It was unlikely whoever had attacked the village would remain once the sun was up, and Al was intent on returning to see what had happened to Yarima and her small clan.

The captain weighed anchor and began to slowly motor back to the village. The sight that beheld our eyes was enough to cause me to retch over the side of the boat. Along the shore stood a row of pikes upon which severed heads were impaled. To my horror, I caught sight of Mukashe's lifeless head. The more religious members of the crew and passengers crossed themselves and the captain ramped up the engines to put the gory scene far behind us. Al vainly implored the captain to put our group ashore to see if there were any survivors, but the captain resolutely refused. He argued that we would not know if the attackers were still hiding in the jungle waiting for us to disembark.

Afonso watched from the cover of dense foliage as the Indiano weighed anchor and moved towards the village. As the Indiano picked up speed and Afonso recognized that the boat would not land, his plan came apart. He had counted on the gringos to force the captain to return to the village to search for survivors. He turned to his lieutenant and rapidly ordered the man to torture the young girl they had taken captive.

The air quickly resounded with her screams which curdled our stomachs and prompted the captain to throw caution to the wind to increase speed. The solid wall of impenetrable vegetation prevented us from seeing the girl or her tormentor, but her screams were clearly audible as we passed by. It was Trevor who suddenly pointed at the riverbank and shouted he had caught sight of a man hiding. Our eyes followed his raised hand and we saw the man scuttle back deeper into the foliage. It was obvious to all that the attack the night before had not been staged by other natives, but by a nefarious Caucasian enemy. I was grateful that the captain had the foresight not to return to the village.

The Indiano continued on the journey without further issues. Occasionally, one of the crew or passengers caught sight of fierce-looking natives along the shore, but there were no altercations. One dugout did approach the boat to do some trading. The natives were friendly, and we did trade some of the hardware and cooking utensils Professor Byrne had brought along for some fresh camu camu and maracuya. The camu camu, also known as rumberry, was much too tart for my taste, but the crew mashed the fruit to turn it into juice. Adding a few dollops of sugar to the juice made it palatable. I found the maracuya, better known as passion fruit, to be my fruit of choice. The fruit was a welcome change from the normal heavy starch diet we were consuming.

It took days on the Indiano before the captain called a halt to the passage. Two days before we had dropped off the last of the passengers not in our party. The river had become too shallow for navigation. Christo and the captain ferried our equipment to the shore where there was a break in the vegetation. I watched Christo throughout the operation. I loved the way his muscles bulged as he hefted heavy packs and supplies in and out of the small boat. I had finally had those arm and leg muscles around me the night before. However, the bulge in Christo shorts was the one muscle that made my ass twitch as I watched our gear ferried ashore.

On the last night aboard the Indiano, I found Christo at the stern of the ship looking up at the night sky. Although he was familiar with the countless stars and planets in the night sky, he told me that the night sky never ceased to amaze him. There was no argument with his observation. This far from civilization, I had often looked up at night to take in the wonder of the universe sans the lights of man. We sat silently taking in the view as the rest of the party turned in. When all was quiet, Christo turned to me and with sad eyes told me that he would miss me. I was not surprised by his comment. I had often caught Christo looking at me in ways that were more than idle interest.

When Christo turned his face to me and slowly approached my lips, I willingly moved closer. His warm, moist lips kissed me chastely at first. When I let my tongue slide between his lips, we both let go and passion took over. Those sweet lips kissed my throat and his strong fingers undid my shirt buttons before his mouth took my nipples and sucked gently. My moans encouraged Christo to pull my shirt off and I let him tenderly push me back against the bulwark. Those lips continued to caress my abs and I could just barely see the question in his eyes asking if he should proceed further. I answered by unzipping my pants, slid them down my legs with my underwear, and let Christo see my hard cock. It was his turn to moan as his mouth took my meat right down to the pubes.

As Christo sucked and bobbed on my cock, I stretched my arms to pull his shirt over his head. My fingers pinched and played with his nipples. Reluctantly, Christo backed off my cock only long enough to tear off his own pants. The cock that I knew under the loose material of his shorts did not disappoint me at all. Before he could go down on me again, I whispered that I wanted his cock in my mouth at the same time he sucked mine. With a smile I could see even in the minimal light of the Indiano's running lights, Christo laid himself on the deck and patted the surface to invite me to lie down. I scuttled into the 69 position and immediately swallowed the cock offered to me. The uncircumscribed rod was just the right size for me. With matching enthusiasm, we sucked and played with each other's cocks with mouths and fingers. I would have been satisfied taking Christo' load in my mouth, but he had other ideas. Abruptly, Christo pulled off my cock and shifted his position to squat at my feet. He did the maneuver so rapidly; I did not have a chance to think twice.

Gently, but firmly, Christo took my ankles and bent my knees to my chest. I felt his warm breath on my hole and now knowing where he wanted to go, I grabbed hold behind my knees and kept my body bent. Christo did not hesitate to lower his head and I felt his hot tongue teasing the puckered skin of my hole. His tongue teased and slathered my opening raising my excitement. A single loud moan uttered from my lips halted Christo' tongue attack as he quietly told me to shut up. I clamped my lips together even though my mind wanted to moan and encourage Christo to take me. With gentle fingers, he probed my hole and slid inside me to widen my entrance.

Finally, when he concluded I was ready, Christo scooted between my legs and I felt his cock head touch my willing and ready hole. With just his spit, the cock I had been dreaming about during the voyage slid into me. Christo' preparation allowed him to enter me without me feeling any pain. I encouraged him to pound my ass by pushing against his thrusts. He complied by fucking me with short, deep lunges that increased my need to be taken completely by this Brazilian stud. As if he heard my thoughts, Christo continued plundering my hole. I did not want the fucking to end, but as is always the case, a man can only hold off so long. With a shudder that I felt down to my bones, Christo flung his head back and crushed his pubes to my ass as he unloaded his cream deep inside me.

At that moment, I felt the rush of my own cum shoot from my cock. I thought my juice would never stop as my cock pulsed many times in concert with Christo' cock. Without removing his cock from my ass, Christo carefully pushed my knees to the side so he could spoon me. I waited for the inevitable sliding out of his cock to be surprised when I felt that hard rod begin to pump once again. This fucking took much longer than the first, but I eventually felt Christo stiffen as he shot a second load into me. My own rod spewed ropes of cum onto the wooden deck. In the silence of the night, I actually heard the sloppy, wet sounds of my full hole lubricating the slow withdrawal of his cock. Unlike most of the guys who fucked me, Christo had no intention of letting his cock pop out of my ass. With the sensual and slow withdrawal of his cock, I thought I would cum again. That would have been a record third time in less than an hour, but I was drained, and I felt my cock pulse but not shoot.

Christo turned me to him, and we kissed tenderly. Gone was the urgency of sexual release. Both of us simply wanted to show our appreciation for each other believing our time together was drawing to a close. When I finally crawled into my berth, I silently cursed the fact that we had not been able to have sex during the voyage before the last night together. We had only had sex at the start and end of the trip, but I could easily have fallen for this bronze, muscular stud. As it turned out, Christo would find himself joining the expedition, which overjoyed me.

In the Jaguar's Sight

Complacency had set in over the two days we hacked our way through the thick, emerald green jungle. Like my compatriots, muscles had hardened, hands were callused, and even the sweat that poured off our filthy skin no longer bothered us. Our bodies were well-oiled machines cutting through the vegetation like a harvester through a field of corn. We took turns being the lead frequently enough that no one was exhausted by wielding the machetes to clear a path deep into the Amazonian jungle.

It is funny how the mind numbs when the body performs a repetitive task. What thoughts dwelt in the minds of my companions were not shared with me. I know that I had already shoved the memories of our encounters far back in my thoughts. I had grown accustomed to the sounds of the jungle around me. The constant bird calls high in the canopy, the skittering of small animals fleeing our noisy onslaught of their domain, the never-ending whine of insects in my ears, all were an audible blur during the day. It was at night when birds and animals settled in that the insects became a maddening nuisance broken only by the howl of a monkey in the treetops or the scream of a small animal caught by a larger predator.

E ven in the relative quiet of night, I was unable to hear the stealthy hunting of predators just as their prey failed to notice them until it was too late. The fire we kept burning through the nights was an effective deterrent in keeping the animals at bay. Our main concern was the rare and elusive jaguar. With jaws that easily crushed bone, the jaguar was a deadly hunter. Luckily, and sadly, the jaguar was endangered itself. Man's encroachment into the Amazon had drastically reduced the hunting range of the usually solitary jaguar. With clear-cutting, the land was no longer hospitable to the large cat. It was also sport hunting that was reducing the jaguar population. I was half asleep on guard duty. So, I was surprised by the low throated growl of the jaguar that had crept within yards of our encampment just before dawn. Usually the big cat avoided man, preferring to skirt encampments and lay low whenever man appeared.

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Whether it was a sixth sense or a subconscious warning that alerted me to the jaguar initially, I could not say. Suddenly fully awake, I saw the fire had burned down to coals. In that grayish light that precedes sunrise, it was difficult to make out the spotted coat of the jaguar. It was the sparkle of light reflected in the jaguar's eyes that ruined the animal's natural camouflage. This close, what I had learned about the jaguar's eyes was shockingly true. Even in the dim light, I clearly saw the golden irises. The cat's eyes were like two saucers on the head.

To see the animal so close to our encampment was unnerving. My immediate thought was the jaguar must either be very hungry or was crazed. Yes, the fire had burned down, but the tents of the expedition encircled the fire pit. There might not be flame, but the heat and smell of the fire pit should have caused the jaguar to give our encampment a wide berth. Yet, there was the cat crouching at the periphery of our campsite. The jaguar had become a silent, immobile specter. My mind raced with the implications of raising an alarm or waiting to see what the cat would do. If the animal was crazed, any sudden movement might provoke an attack. If I did nothing there was the chance the cat would creep closer and then attack. If memory served me right, jaguars went for the neck or head of its victims crushing the skull with a powerful bite that exceeded that of the lion.

I decided to move as slowly as possible from my prone position to a crouch. My eyes never left the cat as I crept closer to the fire pit. To my great relief, there was a limb that was lying half in the pit with an end that had not been burnt. Grasping the limb, I brought it to my mouth and my breath coaxed the burning end to flame. The sudden light caused the jaguar to back away, though it did not turn and return to the undergrowth. With the burning limb, I moved around the pit and began a slow approach towards the cat. It began to back away keeping the same distance away from me. Finally, the cat was back in the undergrowth and although it made no sound, I did see it turn and slink back into the jungle.

I remained in place and my ears strained to hear the cat. I could not be sure if the cat had given up on a meal or was crouched behind the dense foliage. I dared to approach the area where the cat had disappeared following the torch. The jaguar did not spring at me and I finally decided the danger had passed after waiting ten minutes staring into the jungle.

By the time I had given up my vigil, the rest of camp was waking. I saw no reason to frighten anyone so kept quiet about the whole episode. It turned out that this was the only encounter our party had with the elusive, but highly dangerous, beast.

Attacked

My two sexual encounters with Christo sprung to my mind as I followed Christo on the jungle trail. He had taken his shirt off in the humid, sweltering heat, revealing his tightly clad ass. The V shape of his torso highlighted the tight globes beneath the stretched cargo shorts. Knowing Christo as I did, he most likely bought those shorts because they highlighted his ass and package. My cock hardened at the memory of having my pubes slapping against those globes.

That night on the boat before leaving Belem was the best sex I had had in a long time even when everything went wrong the next morning. As Christo and I laid side by side in his narrow bunk, I was relishing a quiet, satisfying afterglow to a wild night of sex, but Christo ruined it all by announcing that the sex was alright. "Alright", I queried? "Yeah, it was okay", he replied. The perfect world I had envisioned came crashing down as he threw the sheet back and slipped out of bed. Despite his unflattering assessment of having sex with me, my cock sprung up as I watched his perfect ass head for the bathroom.

Although Christo had ruined my dream of repeating the night every night of our trip upriver, I decided to try and salvage my reputation and libido. Springing from the bed, I rushed to the bathroom. Christo was standing in the spray with his back to me as I entered the tiny shower stall. My stiff cock made contact with that perfect ass. Christo jumped up, hit his head on the shower head, and yelled, "Mother Fucker"! As he came back down, his ass pushed me backwards and my ankles caught on the stall rim. Screaming, I fell to the floor hitting my head on the edge of the sink. It was a glancing blow, but opened my scalp and blood flowed down my back.

Christo swore at me, but abruptly stopped mid-sentence as he turned and saw my as blood on the bathroom floor. Sprawled on the floor, my body blocked his exit from the stall. Woozy from the blow, I heard Christo telling me to get up, but it was minutes before I was able to roll over allowing him to exit the shower. The acrid smell of urine assailed my nostrils when my nose came perilously close to the toilet. The water cascaded from his body, mixing with my blood, creating a pink pool on the floor. He grabbed the nearest towel and pressed it against my head. I must have blacked out because the next thing I saw were two paramedics crowded in the small bathroom.

I heard Christo at the door explain that I must have slipped in the shower, fell, and hit my head in response to one of the paramedic's questions. I let the half-truth explain why I was naked on the floor. Even the paramedic's good physique and cute face did not excite me as he grabbed my ankles. The other paramedic lifted me under my armpits and together they removed me from the bathroom. Covered with a sheet I was quickly secured to a backboard in the narrow passageway. It was not fun being strapped down as the paramedics manhandled the backboard up through the hatch. Finally, I was bundled off the boat and strapped to the gurney on the dock and whisked to the waiting ambulance. Sometime during the ride to the hospital, I lost consciousness.

Gentle slaps to my cheek and smelling salt brought me back to the present. The doctor explained he was going to suture the gash before the nurse and paramedic turned me onto my front. I hardly felt the needle that injected the pain killer nor the suturing though I did feel some tugging of my skin as the doctor worked to close the wound. He was quick and efficient, and I was soon tucked into a hospital bed lying on my stomach. The doctor explained that they wanted to keep me overnight for observation given the fact I had blacked out a number of times. The wound was not life-threatening but blacking out was a worry for the doctor.

The next morning, I was released with my head swathed in a large bandage. Trevor and a taxi were waiting for me as the orderly pushed the wheelchair to the curb. I could have walked but was told firmly that the wheelchair was policy. I vainly searched for Christo hoping he would finally show up to see how I was doing. He had not followed the ambulance to the hospital nor come to visit me. I thought that was pretty low given our night of sex. It was when I got back to the boat and looked in the mirror, I understood why I had attracted so many stares getting out of the taxi and walking to the boat. It was a relief going back to the hospital to have the sutures removed and have just a large band aid stuck to the back of my head. Professor Byrne was happy to see me return from my second hospital visit, but the episode had delayed our departure two days. He was anxious to cast off and head upriver.

The memories of that morning receded in my mind as thoughts of sex forcefully took over. I had taken that ass with Christo lying on his back, side and front. It was amazing how versatile he was; how willing he was to be plowed; and how much he seemed to enjoy everything I did. No one would guess that he was the biggest bottom on the planet the way he strutted around campus and now on the jungle trail. Although he had treated me badly, the guy was so damn handsome, charming, and, knowing first hand, sexy that I never had the desire to confront Christo about that morning or his repeated refusal to go to bed with me again until the last night on the Indiano. It was enough to just be around him in this jungle hell.

My head was in the clouds when I ran into Christo who had stopped in response to the scout's return. Christo's head jerked around as my body and hard cock made contact. My face reddened as Christo smirked. The discreet air kiss and wink made me step backwards too quickly to notice the porter was right behind me. Like dominoes, the porters fell to the ground shouting profanities in Portuguese which I did not have to translate. They were pissed as hell at my clumsiness. Christo made the whole episode worse by laughing his head off. If it had not been for the professor coming in between Christo, me and the porters, I shudder to think what might have happened to the expedition. After a rapid-fire exchange of Portuguese, the porters calmed down, but the glares they gave me did not portend good relationships between me and them. I vowed to myself to not stray into their space or create an additional nuisance with them. Given their rugged physiques and admirable muscles, any physical encounter would not end in my favor. As it turned out, when all hell broke loose, the porters were the first to turn tail and make tracks.

I stayed close to the fire and furthest away from the huddle of porters that night. Although the tent offered more comfort, I felt safer being out in the open. My imagination overran my common sense, but as it turned out, I might have been the first casualty of our expedition. The tribesmen who stealthily crept up to surround our encampment fell upon my empty tent. While they had been silent in their approach, the two men, who entered my tent, cried out when they found it empty. That shout alerted the porters who rose as one, quickly battered their way through the tribal ring that quickly surrounded our encampment and vanished into the jungle. The tribe's wooden weapons were not much of a match against the machetes the porters used to escape.

However, those wooden clubs and stanchions were enough to subdue the rest of our party. The professor and our guide, Santiago, were armed, but in the melee following the escape of the porters, using their pistols might have injured or killed one of our party. Wisely, they stuffed their pistols in their pockets. No one meekly accepted our captivity, but a few blows of the fire-hardened clubs made defeat inevitable.

The short, and violent, encounter with aboriginals did not portend a successful expedition. That was the furthest thing from my mind as the dark-skinned natives herded us into the center of the encampment. Although we were perilously close to the hot embers of our fire, the natives did not herd us any more than was necessary to maintain control. Surrounded by the short, but powerful, tribe, none in our party made any moves to escape. The natives were dressed in a wide array of clothing and body adornments. Some of the men wore the traditional sheath that encased their cocks drawing them up and tight against their body while their balls hung below. Others wore Western clothing that had obviously seen better days. The shorts hid their privates in varying degrees depending on the size of the garment. Although I was afraid of what might transpire if the natives decided to hurt us, my eyes locked on one of the obviously younger natives. Struck not only by his beauty, the light blue shorts he wore was eye-catching. The shorts were cleaner than most of the others' garments and clearly was a bit small for the young man. His cock and balls were obvious beneath the shiny material. In any other circumstance, my cock would have hardened at the sight, but the menacing tribe held most of my attention. While I am not one to run from an altercation in most circumstances, the sharpened points of the spears kept us captive better than any bars. None of us was willing to find out if those tips were laced with curare. Quickly closing ranks when four of the natives broke off to raid our camp, the remaining men refused to answer the professor or guide's questions. English, Portuguese, and Arawak elicited no response from the men. I could tell the professor was vexed that he was unable to communicate with the natives. Even in the midst of possible bodily harm, the professor was more interested in learning from the natives than worrying about his hide.

We watched as the four natives ransacked the tents, packs, and porter bundles. Most of the goods were carelessly thrown to the ground. I could not help the small groan that came when I saw one native carelessly toss my expensive leather-bound journal onto the ground. The natives had no use for canned goods, white men's long-sleeved shirts or pants, maps, compasses, and the like. A minor skirmish broke out between one of our captors and one who ransacked our stuff over one of my boxer briefs. There was a short tussle and then the victor whipped off his sheath and donned my underwear. Many of the knives and machetes were collected, and the chief dispersed them to the other tribesmen. Our group had a silent collective sigh of relief that the ransackers missed finding all the machetes. One stout, but heavily muscled man close to me swung his newly acquired machete perilously close to my torso, which made me jump back, colliding with Gary who dominoed into Bradley. Poor Bradley stumbled and then fell back into the glowing embers. His scream brought an instantaneous response from our group as we all turned our back on the natives and rushed to pull Bradley from the fire pit. None of us gave any thought to what our immediate reactions might do to endanger us. As our attention to help Bradley focused on ripping his smoldering clothes away from his body, none of us realized our captors had vanished into the jungle until Bradley was out of danger. The gods must have been looking down on Bradley as the burns he suffered were not much worse than a mild sunburn due to our quick actions. It was Christo who was the first to realize the natives had vanished. Relief was quickly replaced by anger.

The jungle certainly had not heard the likes of the language that spewed from our mouths as we sorted the gear and clothing and returned property to the rightful owners. It was not until after we had repacked the gear, struck the tents, built up the fire, and posted guards armed with the pistols, that we all settled down around the fire to try and find some sleep. Each of us kept our thoughts to ourselves. As for me, I dozed fitfully, recalling the close call with the machete and Bradley's screams. For the first time through all the preparations, travel to the Amazon, and the two-day trek to our present location, that night brought a frightful realization to my mind. I might not survive the expedition. Yet, I also could not erase the image of one of the natives.

Although he appeared as dark as the night against the background of dense jungle; his cinnamon-toned skin glistened in the firelight. The flickering flames highlighted his toned, but slightly less mature, body. It had been impossible not to notice the conspicuous length of his cock contained in tight, light blue shorts even though the beadwork and feathers that decorated his wrists were impressive. Once my eyes had left his groin, I could not help admiring the amulet that hung from his neck. Made of macaw feathers, the adornment highlighted his torso as well as the body painting on his chest and face in green and black. Most of the designs were geometric and it was obvious that a great deal of time was spent on this adornment. Most striking were his eyes. The irises were an amalgam of the colors on his skin.

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Unlike the other tribesmen, he appeared younger and less sure of himself though I would learn later that he was as brave as any warrior. When we rushed to Bradley's rescue, I glimpsed the young man flinch and back away. His reaction went unnoticed by the others, but when our eyes connected, I could have sworn that he was pleading with me not to bring attention to his insecurity and fear. Though we did not verbally communicate, the nod of my head was all the young man needed to know that I was not going to divulge his unease. As we all assisted Bradley, the tribe and the beautiful man vanished into the jungle. Little did I know at that time that he would join our expedition and prove invaluable in communicating with the natives we later encountered. I am certain that had Toxaris not joined us, we would have been far less successful learning more about the aboriginals. I also could not imagine that the Amazonian Adonis would become my lover.

Toxaris

As the sun rose and the slanted rays shone through the high canopy, our group roused one by one to greet the new day. None of us spoke of the night's ordeal, but for an inexplicable reason, Bradley snarled at anyone who tried to engage him in conversation or assist him in preparing for our departure. The rest of the party decided to steer clear of Bradley for the time being. Whatever was eating him would not be assuaged by continuing to break through his mood.

When everyone had divvied up the supplies and equipment that were considered crucial to the expedition and our survival, we began our trek through the jungle leaving behind the bulk of our supplies. Everyone in the party cursed at least once during that first day at the porters who had not returned after the aboriginals attacked. Lauren did query Al about whether the porters would survive without supplies. Our professor responded by saying that they were better educated in surviving the jungle with nothing more than a machete and their wits. I could not see how that was possible, but there was no point in arguing the point. The porters were gone and as a result, we had left a large amount of our supplies behind.

It turned out that the professor was wrong. We did not find all the porters as the day wore on, but the few corpses we did come across portended a sad ending to probably all the porters. One of the fellows had been hacked into pieces, another lay on the jungle floor as if asleep with hardly a scratch on him other than the one incision where a spear tip had pierced his skin. The last man was the most gruesome. Gerardo had been lashed to a tree and then cut in so many places that his skin hung in folds. Given his surly nature and prior acts of violence, it was obvious Gerardo had put up a fight to merit such treatment. Whether he had injured or killed any natives was unanswerable as there were no bodies or evidence. Our vigilance increased as we made our way through the jungle. I said a silent prayer that we had not put up a fight the night before.

With a cry that startled all of us, we spun around to see Bradley at the rear of our column dragging a native out of the undergrowth. Trevor pushed everyone to the side as he rushed to Bradley and the young man. Bradley was pounding the poor native who cried out with every hit. Grabbing Bradley in a bear hug, Trevor ended the assault. Trevor's strong arms and soothing words calmed Bradley down. I rushed to the aid of the young man immediately recognizing him from the light blue shorts. The tussle with Bradley had exposed the top of the youth's bush and I was a bit surprised by the wiry black hairs against the blue waistband. Despite his youthful countenance, that sight registered in my mind that the youth was older than he appeared.

Those spectacular eyes I remembered from the night before were wiped clear of the tears that had flowed as I helped Toxaris to his feet. With a look that conveyed gratitude to both Trevor and me, Toxaris picked up his blowgun, satchel, and spear with the point towards the ground. Looking into his eyes, I was assured that Toxaris had no intention of attacking anyone. Al began to communicate with Toxaris in Arawak. Unlike his brethren of the night before, Toxaris was more than willing to communicate with the professor. Although I did not understand a word of their conversation, Al stated that Toxaris wanted to join us.

Bradley cursed and accused Toxaris of being a spy for his tribe. At the diatribe, Toxaris shrunk back, but a gentle hold by the professor on his arm prevented Toxaris from melting into the jungle. Abruptly, Al told Bradley to shut his trap. The tone was unmistakable. Al would never have left Bradley behind, but it was apparent that at that moment Al recognized that Toxaris was more valuable as a member of our group than Bradley. Bradley pushed his way to the front of the group and savagely attacked the foliage with his machete ignoring the rest of the party. Santiago slipped into the jungle bypassing Bradley to continue our trek. The rest of us fell into line. Al decided to place Toxaris behind Trevor and ahead of me which afforded me an excellent view of the young man's body. I had to concentrate on not getting aroused as that tightly clad butt preceded me. Despite my efforts, Toxaris caught me staring and to my surprise gave me a wink and then wiggled his ass as he turned back. The tight shorts outlined his round butt and I had to stifle a groan. My cock went to full mast and it was momentarily difficult to walk. Lauren, who was behind me, laughed and told me to get my mind out of the gutter. She had seen Toxaris tease me with his ass. I felt my face flush with heat above the infernal temperature of the jungle.

When we stopped for a rest, some food and especially water, Toxaris sat between Trevor and me. The native made sure his leg made contact with mine. I noticed that Toxaris had spread his legs enough to place his other leg against Trevor. As Toxaris studied the strange food in his hand, Trevor caught my eye over the young man's head and winked. I felt my cock begin to grow once again; however, I did not move my leg away from Toxaris. Trevor and I had had sex with another guy in the past and I was not completely adverse to an encounter with Toxaris in company with Trevor. That was a much better scenario than having Trevor hogging the young man to himself. I was certain that, given the opportunity, I could get Toxaris for myself. To get my mind off sex, I gesticulated to Toxaris that the food was good, and he should eat. With a smile that brightened my day, Toxaris took a first nibble of the power bar in his hand. Finding it to his liking, he devoured the entire bar in seconds and held out his hand for another. I handed the bar over and practically melted on the spot as Toxaris' fingers lingered on my hand. The heat of his touch inflamed my cock and I had to break contact with Toxaris to adjust my shorts that were tenting. Toxaris' tongue briefly swept over his succulent lips as he stared at my lap. I could tell he wanted to touch me there, but a quick shake of my head warned the youth to return his attention to the power bar held in his hand. Although our brief, but intense, connection had to be noticeable to others and especially Trevor, no one reacted in any way. In fact, Trevor had shifted away from Toxaris to talk to Gary and missed the spark of sexual energy that passed through Toxaris and me.

After the break, we continued our trek until the shadows caused by the canopy overhead darkened and it was time to set up camp. Toxaris spoke to Al before he melted into the jungle. Al explained to the group that Toxaris was scouting the entire area around our new campsite. The purpose was to find out if his tribe had followed us and if there were any apparent dangers in our site selection. Santiago looked a little miffed that the native had usurped his responsibilities and Bradley grumbled under his breath just loudly enough to say that he did not trust the little bastard. I decided to ensure that Bradley and Toxaris were never together alone.

Toxaris reappeared as silently as he had disappeared, and held a large, dead armadillo in his arms. Al was delighted and the rest of us were leery when Toxaris prepared the beast and began to cook it. I could not keep my eyes off his lithe body and especially the sight of his ass crack as he bent to arrange the coals beneath the armadillo. I caught only snippets as Al explained that many South Americans ate armadillos, and some had them as edible house pets. Al also ensured the beast was well cooked as armadillos can carry leprosy although Toxaris was miffed by the overdone meat. To everyone's delight, the meat tasted much like fine-grained, high-quality pork. I was in seventh heaven eating my share as meat was now a luxury. I much preferred the armadillo to the roasted snakes we had dined on prior to Toxaris' arrival.

Sated from our feast of armadillo, wild bananas and papaya, Al assigned watches to everyone but Toxaris, which again upset Bradley. Earlier in the evening, Bradley had complained when Toxaris went off to scout the area and now he was griping because Toxaris was not standing a watch. It made no sense. Toxaris as a guard would have been an open invitation for his tribe to again attack us. I thought for a second to argue the point with Bradley but decided to let the matter drop especially since Trevor told Bradley to shut his trap. It seemed that I was not the only one who was tired of Bradley's grievances. Because of Bradley's animosity and my own selfishness, I gestured to Toxaris that he join me in my tent. He shook his head which momentarily dismayed me especially as he walked toward the jungle, then proceeded to build a makeshift lean-to a distance from the encampment, but not too far away. When he was satisfied, he gestured to me to join him under the shelter. I was glad that I had not given up on him but had watched him expertly build the shelter. I hesitated, not because I did not want to be with him, but because I feared the bugs would eat me alive without the shelter of the tent netting or the blaze of a fire. Seeing my hesitation, Toxaris returned to me, took my arm firmly, but gently, and guided me to the lean-to. Both Trevor and Christo watched us pass and I ignored their looks. Just before I reached the lean-to, I looked back and saw Trevor and Christo duck into Trevor's tent. Obviously, neither man cared that much about Toxaris and me. I had to duck to enter the lean-to but was pleasantly surprised that he had built a lean-to for just two people which meant Trevor was out of luck if he and Christo struck out.

Toxaris seemed to glide to the ground and knelt below me. Looking down I was mesmerized once again by the gorgeous orbs that stared at me with an undisguised look of want. I dropped to my knees somewhat less gracefully to face the youth. His eyes never left mine as his hands moved toward me. With a soothing, slow touch, Toxaris unbuttoned my shirt, unzipped my pants, and waited for me to discard my protective clothing. In the seconds he waited, his eyes fell to my groin and he emitted a groan that was so quiet I almost missed it. Despite my best effort, his warm, gentle fingers opening my shirt prompted my cock to rise. Ignoring my hard-on and Toxaris' reaction to my excitement, using comical gestures, I explained that I was afraid that bugs would bite me. The intelligent native understood my body language and pulled a gourd out of the pouch that had recently been slung over his shoulder. A pungent odor emitted from the gourd which wrinkled my nose, but soon became inconspicuous as Toxaris spread the ointment onto the portion of my chest exposed by the open shirt front. His touch and the warmth of his fingers encouraged me to strip off my shirt so Toxaris could gain access to my entire torso. I had to rise to turn and felt the youth's hands landing on my hips and pulling me down again. When he was done spreading the ointment on my upper anatomy, his finger tapped my back and I saw his head nod upwards to indicate I was to stand once again. As I turned once on my feet, those slender fingers gripped my trousers at the knees and pulled down. With a look of frustration, he tugged harder, but the pants refused to cooperate. Toxaris had unzipped me but had neglected to unbutton the top. I popped the button and Toxaris again pulled, but now my hard cock caught the hem. To avoid any damage to my engorged rod, I gently pushed his hands away and removed my trousers, but not my underwear. Toxaris patted the ground to indicate I should lay down on my back. He pulled my legs apart and knelt in between them near my feet. As before, ointment and warm fingers caressed me beginning at my feet. I raised each leg in turn so he could slather the backs. His warm, silky hands continued upward, and my cock reacted by jerking to the stimulation. When he reached the crease between my thigh and balls, Toxaris cocked an eye and pointed at my underwear.

I knew the youth had noted my misbehaving tool and there was no doubt I was sexually turned on by his ministrations. My brain told me to be the civilized one and remain at least partially clothed, but the devil in me wanted to see how Toxaris would react once he got a look at my dripping rod. In any case, keeping my privates clad was not to be as Toxaris took matters into his own hands, literally, and hooked his slim fingers into the waistband. Rising up and back, the youth gave a mighty tug. My cock sprang up and slapped my pubes as the underwear slid down my legs. I had to raise my legs in turn to allow the underwear to be removed completely. I saw Toxaris lick his lips and heard a quiet groan from the native. His eyes darted from the view of my asshole as a leg was raised and back as the other leg went up. When I was naked as a jaybird, those eyes glued themselves to my cock. It was obvious he was curious about my circumscribed tool. I watched as he knelt again between my legs and tentatively reached for my wet crown. I shuddered as his thumb slid across my slit and oozed precum. The young man moved closer spreading my thighs giving him better access to my throbbing cock. His gentle touch massaged the insect repellent onto my rod mixing with my precum which flowed despite my best efforts to control myself. He was still surprised that skin did not slide up and down as his hands moved. Content that my cock and pubes were well slathered, Toxaris pulled on one hip to indicate I was to turn over. I began to comply not giving one second's thought to the fact that my groin was about to meet the ground but was halted by the youth's tug for me to get on my knees. With the same soft touch, I felt his hands rub the ointment onto my ass cheeks. I was not all that surprised when I felt his fingers dip into my crack and sweep across the wrinkled skin of my hole. I shuddered despite knowing his fingers were going there which elicited another chuckle from the youth. My cock throbbed and bobbed as he spent a few minutes rubbing that sweet spot. I knew he did not need that much time to slather the ointment there but was content to let him play at least until he gave a sharp slap against one ass cheek before pushing me to the ground. I turned my head to face him and he pulled at my leg to sweep it over and above his head so I was face up. With lust-filled eyes locked on mine, he lowered himself to lie on top of me. My erect cock was trapped between us, but I did not mind as his luscious lips dropped to give me a chaste kiss. Discarding my resolve to not ravage the youth, I pulled his head toward me to give him a proper kiss. At first his lips remained closed to my tongue as it swept across them. His groan matched my own as he relented, and our tongues danced around each other. My arms encircled his torso and crushed his body against mine feeling his hard-on against my pubes. His shorts were damp with his precum which did not let his groin slide along my skin. Breaking our kiss, I tugged at the garment's hem and he left me only long enough to strip out of it before returning to lie atop me. Our slick cocks generously coated with precum and the ointment slid alongside each other. It did not take long before Toxaris shuddered and I felt hot cum flow between our bodies. I was not far behind and another flood of cum shot between us. Toxaris slumped to my side obviously enjoying his release from the smile on his face. When I came down from my post cum high, I turned my body to face the youth, but Toxaris had other ideas. As I moved, he also moved so we were now spooned. I would have preferred to explore the smooth, lithe body of my new lover, but he wisely decided we had better sleep. He sighed as I gave him a goodnight kiss to his slender neck then snuggled to fit his gorgeous ass into my groin.

I was woken during the night when cool air replaced Toxaris' warmth. The youth had moved just beyond the lean-to's entrance and into bright moonlight. The arc of his piss sparkled in the light as he drained his bladder. Standing before me stark naked in that celestial glow, I admired his strong, virile body and impressive tool. It seemed to glow in the light accentuated by the black hair of his bush. That cock bounced as he returned to the lean-to and whispered my name. I answered softly and he laid himself on the bedding face up. He was spread before me with his cock at full mast. I needed no further invitation and moved to take that cock in my mouth. His crown poked out of its sheath and was wet with precum. Before I went down on him my tongue swiped across his slit eliciting a moan and an upward thrust of his hips. Hands grabbed at my head and fingers entwined in my hair to encourage me to fully take his cock down my throat. His hips moved up and down in cadence with my mouth. I felt the shudder of his body just before his hands went still. Thrusting his hips up, the rush of cum flooded my throat. I withdrew quickly to wrap my lips around his cock head to catch every shot of his cum. Filled to the brim, I let Toxaris come down until his soft cock withdrew. Still holding his liquid treasure in my mouth, I pressed my lips to his. His mouth opened and there was a momentary shock when he realized I was giving him a taste of his own juice. It was not long before our mouths crushed each other's, and four hands were hard at work touching every part of the other's body within reach. Whoever had taught this young man the joy of man to man sex had done an excellent job. Eventually we reached the point of no return and to my surprise, Toxaris pushed me onto my back, squatted over my hard cock, and proceeded to sit on my straining tool. I watched his face to see if he experienced any discomfort. A fleeting moment of discomfort crossed his face but was immediately followed by another wide grin. Adjusting to my length and girth, he slowly took my cock inside him. Once his ass and my pubes met, Toxaris began an excruciatingly slow up and down movement. My hand wrapped around his drooling rod and he trembled as my thumb ran across his wet slit again and again. Those sparkling eyes never left mine as we both experienced a fucking and hand job that would have put porn stars to shame. I watched as a flood of cum jetted from his cock onto my chest. The first explosion was followed by two more strong jets that coated my body from chin to navel. His remaining cum oozed out to form pools of oily spots on my groin. I had cum deep within Toxaris with the first jet as his ass clenched on my tool. I thought I would spontaneously cum again when Toxaris scooped up his spent cum from my chest and brought it to his mouth. With a wicked grin, he licked his hand clean without breaking the rhythm on my cock which had not softened. It did not take long before I came the third time that night filling the youth who bounced on my rod. I covered my mouth to stifle a cry as I felt my cock pulse deep inside his ass. Without waiting for my cock to deflate, Toxaris rose and I felt a flood of my cum run out of his well-used ass. We resumed our position with me spooning the youth. I felt the warm juice from his ass on my groin and the sticky residue of his explosion on my body but my balls ached having over-worked them with three explosions so any thought of doing anything, but sleep, was quickly tamped down. With a final kiss, we cuddled and fell asleep.

The next morning, I had to peel my chest and groin from Toxaris' back. Our cum had dried to a crust and glued us together. I felt Toxaris heave once before he let out a loud laugh that probably woke others. Once apart, Toxaris gestured that I should stay where I was before he sprinted out of the lean-to. I watched his sweet ass disappear towards the back of the lean-to. He returned quickly with a bundle of large leaves in his hands. I grit my teeth as he cleaned my body with the cool dew-covered leaves. It was not a bath, certainly not a shower, but the washing did eliminate most of the evidence from our night of debauchery.

Gary, Lauren and Bradley shook their heads and waggled their fingers in mock disdain as Toxaris and I made our way to the cooking fire. They did the same when Trevor and Christo emerged from Trevor's tent. It was Al's look that made my face flush. It was obvious he still held some strong feelings towards me. I tried to get him to talk to me after breakfast, but he told me to bugger off before brusquely ordering everyone to get a move on.

Ambush

It seemed that our trek had no ending as we continued to slowly move deeper into the Amazon jungle, not making much headway. Days became monotonous and there was more than one grumble from the party about the constant repetition of hacking the undergrowth, setting up and striking camp, searching for and hunting for fresh meat, and not finding any natives. Nights for Toxaris and me were a different story. The rest of the party, including Trevor, constantly joked about Toxaris and me being an "item" which I chose to ignore. Trevor did not have a leg to stand on since he and Christo were spending every night together. I could not care less what the others thought. Toxaris gave himself willingly to me and in every way we both knew we were falling in love. It was evident in the way Toxaris looked at me, was always by my side when possible, and tenderly made love to me. I realized one night as Toxaris lay asleep in my embrace that I loved him. What I had thought was love with Trevor had been nothing more than infatuation and lust. It sounds trite, but Toxaris was my sun and moon, my morning and night, my everything. Bradley finally gave up his antipathy for the young native which made Toxaris and me happy. Trevor bowed to the inevitable and stopped trying to force himself on Toxaris. Instead Trevor claimed Christo as his fuck buddy which did not upset Christo in the least. I did not feel one iota of jealousy that Trevor and Christo were fucking like bunnies. Both had been convenient fucks for my libido and really had not loved me which made the love between Toxaris and me so amazing in contrast. Life seemed to be a continual high for me despite the hardships of the trek. What none of us knew until it was too late was an ambush lay before us which would almost end the adventure permanently.

Afonso's patience and temper had reached an apex. He was exhausted from following the gringoes and not putting an end to their incursion into his chefe's domain. Of course, Duarte Ferreira did not actually own the dense jungle Afonso found himself in, but as far as the chefe was concerned, the land, riches, and natives that occupied the area were his personal property. Ferreira's minions had clear-cut the trees, dug up minerals and precious metals, and subjugated the natives to work like slaves, if they did not die fighting off Ferreira's private army. Afonso knew he was just a small cog in his chefe's vast machine for raping the jungle of all its riches.

Truth be told, Afonso was also horny as hell and missed his Mariana fiercely. A couple of his henchmen had relieved their libido with each other, but Afonso was a religious man and believed homosexual relations were a deadly sin. In other circumstances, he would have cut the throats of the faggots who accompanied him without shedding a tear, but every man was vital if Afonso's mission of stopping the gringoes was to succeed. So, Afonso turned a blind eye to the two el maricón though it was difficult not to hear their grunts and quiet exclamations as the two fucked.

It was after a night of listening to the two men going at it that Afonso's patience broke. Rather than take it out on his men, Afonso ordered his crew to move away from the path the gringoes had created. It would be a risk paralleling the devils in the jungle. They might hear Afonso's men hacking their own path, but Afonso saw no other way to successfully attack the other group. An ambush was the only solution. Afonso needed to get ahead of the gringoes and lay a trap that would end their foolish adventure. It would be grueling to push his men so hard, but the thought of what his chefe would do to him if he failed in his mission spurred Afonso on to demand his men do as they were told.

We were oblivious to Afonso's machinations in preparing an ambush for our party. One day when we had stopped to rest, Toxaris spoke to Al and said that he was certain that he had heard others in the jungle. Al heard the anxiety in Toxaris' voice and sent him and Santiago into the jungle to scout. Had Santiago not stopped Toxaris prematurely, the pair would likely have come across the path hacked out of the jungle by Afonso's crew. The ambush would have been averted and Christo would not have been slain. As it was, Santiago did not relish bushwhacking through the jungle after Toxaris looking for "ghosts". When Santiago had reached his limit, he pulled Toxaris back to our resting spot. Since Toxaris and Santiago had not spied anyone else and the only sounds around them in their hunt were the usual bird and insect din, the group sloughed off Toxaris' prior warning. That night, Toxaris tried to convince me through gestures and crude drawings in the soil that he was certain there were others close by. He might have won me over if I had not been more interested in fucking the native. I would wish in hindsight that I had paid more attention to his warning.

Afonso could not put his finger on why he had quickly had his men drop to the ground and go silent. What he did know was that one of the gringoes was arguing loudly with someone about ending their foolish search. Intuitively, Afonso knew that at least two of his quarry had somehow been alerted to the presence of his own group. After a long wait to ensure the searchers were gone, Afonso quietly commanded his men to continue without using their machetes. It would be more difficult to proceed with any speed, but skirting areas of impenetrable jungle growth was safer than hacking their way through it if it meant remaining undetectable. After that close call, Afonso drove his men without mercy all day. One of the men grumbled loudly about the fool's errand they were on until Afonso battered his head with a machete. The others kept their thoughts to themselves about the brutality of the death and Afonso's maniacal drive to outpace their quarry. Afonso stopped their progress only when even the moonlight was not bright enough to see his own hand in front of his face.

Afonso knew without a doubt that the small stream he had encountered the next day would be the perfect place to stage his ambush. From his scout, Afonso knew he had to set up about a quarter mile from the spot he stood at on the stream bank to ambush the gringoes. When Afonso got to the area the scout believed was in line with the other group's progress, he was pleasantly surprised when he found a large pool surrounded by outcroppings. With the care of a general, he dispersed his crew on three sides of the pool. Satisfied he had planned the perfect ambush, Afonso laid his revolver in his lap and crouched to wait for his prey.

Bradley, in the lead, hacked through the foliage and was the first to see the inviting pool. With a shout that alerted both our group and Afonso's, Bradley dumped his gear and without stripping down, jumped into the pool. Foregoing all rational thought, the rest of us quickly ran forward towards the inviting water except for Al and Toxaris. Providence was on our side that Al had not followed right behind us. It was his pistol that prevented a slaughter. When Afonso shot Christos as he emerged from the foliage shortly after Bradley, it was Al's return fire that caused Afonso and his crew to hesitate to attack us outright. The slight delay in the attack was just long enough for Bradley to scramble out of the pool and vanish into the jungle. None of us took the path Bradley had cut out but endured the slashing of sharp thorns and razor-sharp leaves that stood in our way to escape. Toxaris gestured wildly for me to follow him and he quickly got me into the safety of the jungle without too much damage to my hide. Our crew made their roundabout way to Al's side by following the sounds of his pistol shots.

Afonso was enraged. He had not expected anyone in the other group to have a pistola, much less be good enough a shot to hold off his men from rushing the gringoes. Afonso had not trusted any of his henchmen with a firearm. They were a motley lot of drifters, grifters, and low-lifes who would have been as happy shooting him as they would have been shooting the gringoes. Machete in hand, his men would have been more than a match for the others, but with that white man shooting at anything that moved, he had immobilized Afonso's crew. To Afonso's later horror, he could not see until it was too late that his men had slunk off into the jungle leaving him on his own to confront the gringoes.

Al whispered instructions to each of us even as we heard the sound of our attackers moving swiftly in the jungle away from the pool. Toxaris was tasked with following the fleeing former ambushers and dispatching them with his deadly blowgun darts. One by one we heard the screams of Toxaris' targets as they felt the sting of his darts. Although our group had split up into a defensive perimeter with Al at the center, I distinctly heard at least a half dozen men cry out as Toxaris fulfilled his mission. I suspect there were probably more, but gunshots from our attacker filled the silence between the screams. Toxaris did not have to be close to his prey. If he had a clear line of sight, his blowgun was a lethal weapon.

Afonso heard the cries of men, too, but he was under the impression that his men were dispatching the gringoes, at least until he saw one of his men stumble out of the jungle and fall into the pool beside the dead body of one gringo. With a commanding bellow, Afonso called the names of his henchmen and received no replies. He waited to hear answers beyond the time it would have taken for his men to kill their prey and finally concluded that he was on his own. Afonso was not used to being thwarted in his service to his chefe and with a growing dread, Afonso knew that returning to Belem without succeeding was a death sentence. In the silence, he clasped his hands in prayer and asked for forgiveness before placing the gun in his mouth.

The muffled sound of a pistol shot was followed by a return to the usual sounds of the jungle. None of us was certain the attack had ended, but Al took command again and ordered Toxaris to circle the pool and see if the armed assailant was still in ambush. The next thing we saw or heard was Toxaris standing on the outcrop opposite us and telling Al that the man with the pistol was dead. I lost my stomach when Toxaris held up the severed head of our enemy with the top of his skull blown away. Blood was bright red on the machete the youth held in his other hand. Al shouted to Toxaris to lower his arm and we watched as the native flung the head into the jungle. None of us had any sympathy for our assailant, but to see his head flying into the jungle was gruesome. Bradley lost his guts retching and the ever-steady Lauren went white as a ghost but kept on her feet.

When we had collected our wits and were in control of our guts, we gathered at the pool once again. None of us was interested in swimming with the assailant and Christo's lifeless bodies floating there. Al asked for a volunteer to bring Christo to shore and Trevor immediately walked into the pool. When he returned with Christo, I noticed Trevor wiping away tears which he quickly kept hidden from the others. I had thought that his relationship with Christo was just as fuck buddies, but obviously there was more to their liaison. Reverently, Trevor laid Christo at the edge of the pool. Trevor took the machete from Bradley and began feverishly hacking at the moist soil. When he had carved out a rough six-foot-long grave, I joined him in hand digging out the soil to reach a depth sufficient to bury Christo. We did not get three feet down before water began to seep into the cavity. Al, who had remained as silent as the others while Trevor and I worked, gently told us that the makeshift grave would have to do. Toxaris, who could not understand why we were burying a body, spoke to Al. After Al explained our ways, he told us that Toxaris felt it would be better to leave Christo to the animals of the jungle. I was reminded of the "dust to dust" passage in Christian burials. Unmoved by Toxaris' beliefs, Trevor took hold of Christo at his armpits and I made my way to take Christo's feet. Toxaris came between me and the body and rapidly spoke to Al. When their conversation ended, Al explained that Toxaris had interfered in order for us to strip the body of clothing and gear that might be of use to someone else. It did make sense and Trevor took it upon himself to unclothe Christo. Prepared to Toxaris' satisfaction, he allowed Trevor and me to lay a nearly naked Christo into the ground and the entire party added a handful of dirt before Trevor savagely attacked the piles of dirt to cover Christo fully.

In the meantime, Toxaris circled the pool to the lifeless body of one of our attackers. Toxaris worked at removing his dart without regard to the corpse's dignity. None of us had any sympathy for him or the others who had tried to dispatch us. Just as we had done with Christo, Toxaris stripped the body of anything he thought would be useful. I watched as Toxaris flung Reals and pesos on the ground. The native saw no use in the money and why would he having nowhere to spend it. Gathering the dead man's clothing and accouterments, Toxaris returned to the group and dumped the contents of his arms at Al's feet. After a few words with Al, the native melted into the jungle. Al did not need to tell us that Toxaris was doing the same thing with the other attackers. Eventually, Toxaris finished his task and a fairly large pile of clothing and other paraphernalia lay before the professor. Like an auctioneer, Al first held up the clothing which none of us was interested in. Toxaris claimed the shiny, gold chains and crucifixes of a few of his victims. He had no idea of their significance but liked the gleaming jewelry that now hung around his neck. I'm sure he thought his beauty was enhanced, but I thought the multiple chains and crosses detracted from Toxaris' natural beauty. Machetes and knives were divided among us as were the various cooking utensils and tools.

It was decided that Trevor would take the pistol the main man had used to fire at us. After fishing around in the headless man's pockets, Trevor was rewarded with a handful of bullets to load the gun. He would have to be judicious in using the pistol in any future encounter with hostiles, but we all felt a bit better that there were now two firearms to protect us.

After Toxaris dragged the body away from the pool to be food for scavengers, we gathered to discuss being more vigilant in the future. Al was certain there would be no other attacks by "civilized" folks, but we had to be even more aware of attacks by natives. The gunfire would either have scared away any natives or drawn them closer. Given the way and efficiency Toxaris had dispatched a gang of cutthroats, we all knew without a doubt that our party could easily end up the same way. Throughout our discussion, Toxaris squatted by my side and admired the bling around his neck. His pouch of poison darts was again full and armed as he had relathered the lethal points with curare. His light blue shorts were plumped out in the squat and I had a hard time concentrating on the discussion.

On A Cross

Two days after the ambush, Toxaris returned to Al from his scouting. Al called a break and conferred with Toxaris before rejoining our group. Toxaris had found an apparently abandoned settlement, though he was somewhat puzzled that the Shabono appeared to have been used recently. There was no sign of inhabitants when Toxaris had made a cursory circuit of the village, but he had told Al that we had better be on our guard. Bradley, as usual, immediately recommended we skirt the village and not take chances. Al quickly squashed that suggestion by reminding Bradley that the purpose of the trip was to learn as much about the aboriginal peoples of the Amazon as possible. Even if the village was deserted, there might be artifacts or other important information to be gleaned from a settlement so far from civilization. Of particular interest to Al was the fact that Toxaris reported the village was not located near any sustainable source of water. Studying the village might lend clues to how the inhabitants lived without abundant water.

Cautious, but excited, we followed Toxaris through the jungle to stand in awe at the edge of the village. The Shabono that stood at the far end of the deforested clearing was massive. The village must have contained at least 200 natives dwelling in the huge building. As Toxaris had reported, the area around the village was devoid of a flowing water source. While no one had expected a roaring river to be found, the lack of even a dry stream bed was surprising.

It was Lauren who solved the mystery inadvertently. Our resident entomologist had wandered away from the group to study a multitude of Bocydium globulare, the Brazilian treehopper. The bugs were normally found in the treetops living a solitary life on the undersides of leaves. As Lauren later explained, after her more important find, was that these treehoppers had grouped together which was unusual and bore investigating. I had an immediate feeling of revulsion looking at the specimen Lauren held in her hand. The creature was hideous and would have given any child nightmares. It did not help when Lauren explained the bug was non-poisonous and harmless to humans.
The more important find was the cracked top of a cistern that Lauren had come across. Al was intrigued as there had been no prior reports of the Yanomami building cisterns. Yet, there it was on the outskirts of the village. Attaching a drinking cup to some line, Al lowered the cup into the cistern. We watched as about twenty feet of line disappeared into the cistern. The line drew taut and Al slowly pulled the cup to the surface. The cup was full of clear liquid that had no smell. Dipping his finger into the cup, Al tested the liquid and concluded that it was pure, sweet water. He concluded that there must be an underwater water source that was moving beneath us and filtering the water.

To further investigate, Al had Trevor and Bradley carefully pull apart the clay top of the cistern to expose the approximately three-foot-wide excavation from the surface to the water. We all took turns looking down into the cistern and saw the reflection of the bright blue sky on the water's surface. There was discernible movement of the water's surface proving Al's assumption that there was a flowing water source beneath our feet. Gary was the first to suggest we fill our water bottles and water bladders as this water was the first clean, non-polluted water we had come across on our trek. Al agreed we should drink our fill and resupply but had us wait until he had photographed the cistern at every angle to bring back proof the cistern existed.

When Al had finished, the entire party drank until we were sated and had filled every available water carrier. Toxaris, as usual, seemed uninterested in our joy at finding clean water. He only drank when he came across water or when it rained and then used whatever large leaves were available to collect the rainwater to slake his thirst. Luckily for him, it rained nearly every day although this was supposed to be the dry season. Our native guide had wandered off from the group to do some exploring. We were so intent in enjoying our find that we did not know Toxaris had left until he came running back to the group.

His beautiful eyes were wide with fright and once he stopped running, his entire body quaked with fear. Our usually unflappable Toxaris was scared out of his wits and could barely utter words to Al what had scared him so badly. Giving up trying to talk, Toxaris pulled Al by the arm away from the cistern and towards the other side of the Shabono. We followed with trepidation and wariness. Toxaris would not have run from an animal or human threat. He would have called out an alarm and then used his deadly darts to fight whatever enemy he had found. However, something had frightened Toxaris badly and none of us were going to let our guard down.

Lauren was just behind Toxaris and Al and scared the bejesus out of all the rest of us with a blood-curdling scream as she spied the gruesome sight before her. Those of us behind Lauren quickly moved out of single file to see what Lauren had seen. Bradley explosively vomited at my feet and I jumped back to avoid his spew. I had to swallow hard a few times not to lose my own stomach contents when my eyes finally saw the cause of everyone's horror. Before us was the flayed body of a native. His skin had been peeled away from his torso and hung from his waist in narrow strips that reminded me of a Hawaiian grass skirt. The raw meat of his torso was a dull dark rust color with no evidence of recent bleeding. The poor bastard had obviously succumbed to an excruciating death though that observation proved erroneous on further examination of the body.

What someone had done to his body was sadistic whether the victim had been living or not at the time. Despite the atrociousness of the victim, Al took photos of the body at all angles both from a distance and close up. Something caught Al's eye within the folds of skin, and he touched the body to part two strands. The camera fell from Al's other hand and he staggered back as we all heard an unearthly sound emit from the mouth of the victim. It was beyond comprehension that the man could be alive, but with a heave of his excoriated chest, barely recognizable words uttered from his mouth.

That the man could be alive defied all reasonable thought, but there was no doubt that somehow, he had survived as his eyes opened. Toxaris dropped to the ground in prostration and was no help in translating the utterances of the devil before us. Despite my long-held atheism, only the devil would have created such a monstrosity. The abomination continued to babble as Al vainly tried to get Toxaris to translate. Giving up on trying to coax Toxaris to rise from the ground, Al told us to cut the man down as gently as we could. Bradley refused to help and disappeared around the Shabono. It fell to Trevor and Gary to hold the devil up as I cut the vine ropes that held the man upright. I could tell from the grim, tight-lipped guys that touching the man was revolting, but we all understood that whatever time this poor soul had to live, he shouldn't be left hanging from the crude crucifix that had held him fast.

We all expected the man would faint or cry out in pain when he was lain down, but he continued to babble. As the skin strands parted over his groin, there was no missing the fact that the poor guy had also been castrated and his penis removed. A gaping hole greeted my eyes and I could not hold back throwing up at my feet.

With the man on the ground, Al finally coaxed Toxaris to translate. In halting words, Al explained that the man had been mutilated because he had been discovered cowering in a part of the Shabono after a neighboring tribe had swooped into the village. The village men were out hunting, and the marauders slaughtered the women and children. The deathly silence of the village had been explained and now elucidated the smell we had all commented on prior to our grisly discovery. Trevor left our group and peered into a few the many doors of the Shabono. None of us had any doubt that what he had seen inside the door at the center of the Shabono was another example of the brutality this time meted out by the other tribe. When Trevor returned, he had trouble saying that he had found utter carnage inside. His face was as white as a ghost and even the strongest of our group had been shook looking inside. Not one of our party wanted to confirm Trevor's findings. We had all seen quite enough of the savagery of the natives.

When queried about the timing of the attack, the barely living victim told Toxaris it had been one moon since the men of the village had left him hanging for his cowardice. Al did not have to ask Toxaris to inquire why the men had left this villager hanging. Al knew that the male villagers would have expected the man to die at the hands of the marauders in mortal combat during the attack. The man had been left to die on the cross as a warning to the rest of the male villagers that cowardice was not acceptable. It was a gruesome example of the importance these people attached to manly behavior. Then, as suddenly as his awakening, the man heaved a mighty sigh and expired. This time, Al tested the man's pulse and bent low to detect any breath. Rising from the ground, Al declared the man was now truly dead.

Al had Trevor, Gary and me tie the dead man back onto the cross. He was a dead weight which made it more difficult to arrange him on the cross like we had found him. We did our best and finally the victim was tied back on the cross. Al did not need to explain that we had to leave the village without leaving a trace of our being there. If the returning tribesmen found the poor devil's body on the ground, they would pursue whoever had taken pity on him. There was nothing we could do about the shattered cistern, but it was likely the villagers would attribute the damage to the attack.

With our attention now centered on Al, he told us to gather our gear and full water vessels. There was no telling when the tribe's menfolk would return, if ever, but Al wanted to be far from this village by that time. Leaving the poor devil to die so horribly most likely meant the surviving war party would not be amenable to our presence or any attempts to study them. Al did not have to tell any of us twice to hurry. If what the victim had said, the tribe might return at any time having already been away a day. We all ran back to the cistern, giving wide berth to the center door of the Shabono.

When all was ready, Al directed Toxaris to take a route perpendicular to the obvious path the tribe used to pursue the attackers. We used one of the paths that led away from the village that did not appear to have been used recently. When a fair distance had been covered, Toxaris led us back to the same direction we had been on originally. Al was not going to be deterred from continuing into the jungle, but he had no desire to meet the returning warriors.

There was a huge difference in encountering a village in our quest to study the natives between tribes who might be amenable to our arrival and the highly probable violent reception we would receive meeting the returning war party. Had the village we just left contained live women and children; Al might have taken a chance staying. However, he knew instinctively that when the men did return, they would not only be blood thirsty from their raid on the other tribe, but also angry that their kin had been slaughtered. It was better not chancing an encounter and moving on.

Rear Attack

Eventually when it became too dark to continue, we made camp and posted a guard throughout the night. Although we knew that we had not covered many miles away from the Shabono due to the thick vegetation, it was idiotic to continue in the near total darkness. A torch could have lit the way for us to slash the undergrowth, but outside that circle of torch light, we would be blinded to dangers that crawled, stalked, or attacked in the darkness. We were not fearful that the war party would come upon us, but that a panther, Lancehead viper, or Forest Pitviper might decide to make a meal of one of us. Panthers and the Forest Pitviper often attacked their prey from the overhead branches of trees and there was little warning. The Lancehead Viper was a ground dweller and blended in with a forest detritus. Day light was the best defense against these predators since they were unable to hide as well.

Toxaris and I were not in the mood at all for having sex. The sight we had seen at the village still preyed on our minds. In a day or two those memories would not be as vibrant, and then I knew we would be back screwing like rabbits. I tried to talk to Toxaris through hand signals and gestures about why he had been so affected by the poor devil on the cross, but Toxaris just shook his head and then turned away from me. I could have asked Al to translate, but it was apparent that my young lover had no desire to articulate his thoughts about the gruesome sight we had witnessed. I decided to ask Al to teach me at least a rudimentary collection of Arawak phrases so I could communicate with Toxaris. I remained still physically, but my mind rehashed the episode over and over. The brutality of what the natives had done to their own brethren was difficult to comprehend. I was also bothered by what Trevor had tried to do before Toxaris and I had turned in.

With Christo lying beneath the damp Amazon soil, Trevor had decided that there was no earthly reason not to propose to Toxaris that he, Trevor, was a better sex partner than me. I truly was not surprised Trevor had made the overture given his nature, though it did hurt. Although I no longer loved Trevor there was still a deep-seated emotional attachment I could not shake. However, any fond feelings were sorely tested when Trevor caught a naked Toxaris around the waist and chest from behind and began to kiss him on his neck. Toxaris had just come from the small stream having washed himself and his tight blue shorts. The grip by the larger man pinned Toxaris' arms to his side effectively disallowing him to use the blowgun or spear he held. Trevor was still clothed, but I knew from past experience that the man could easily unbind his cock and shove it forcefully into Toxaris. Toxaris also realized his situation and dug his teeth into Trevor's arm. The ferociousness of the brief attack sent Trevor reeling as he rapidly withdrew to a safe distance. For a second, I believed I would have to place myself between the two men as Trevor loudly swore, he would make Toxaris pay for biting him. Toxaris made no attempt to pursue Trevor, but the emphatic negative shake of his head was not enough to persuade Trevor that Toxaris had no intention of having sex with him. As Trevor moved back towards Toxaris, the native raised his spear pointing it at Trevor. That did do the trick and Trevor moved away to have his bleeding arm tended to. It was the first and last time Trevor tried to have sex with Toxaris.

The rest of the night passed without incident. Bradley had stayed awake during the last watch unlike other times but complained bitterly about how tired he was. Without any direction from Al or even Bradley asking, the grouch fell back to the end of our line when we got underway. Despite our slow progress, the distance between Bradley and the rest of us increased. It was obvious he was stopping to rest and then would move ahead before too wide a gap formed. As it turned out, the gap that formed between him and us was certainly one of the reasons I survived to tell this tale.

It was Bradley's scream that alerted the rest of us. In those few seconds, his cry allowed us to fall into a defensive circle with Al and Trevor pulling out their revolvers instantly. Lauren tried to break free of the group to rush to Bradley, but Gary latched onto her. We watched in horror as Bradley appeared on the newly hacked path with a spear jutting from his belly. His hands were clasped around the shaft and he frantically attempted to pull the spear through his body. Given the length of the shaft, it was an impossible task, but the spear head was barbed and would not return the way it had come. It was not at all difficult for the man behind Bradley who shoved him away with his foot while firmly holding onto the spear. We watched as the barbed end tore through Bradley's flesh. Freed of the spear, Bradley fell forward from shock and we stared incredulously at the man who brandished the spear at our group. It was like a slow-motion film as I saw the man raise his arm and prepare to launch his spear. Then like a good movie stuntman, the native spun from the impact of a bullet that Trevor's pistol expelled and spiraled to the ground. Almost immediately, the jungle erupted in a cacophony of screams from the direction we had come. Al yelled for us to use our backpacks as shields when he saw one of the natives raise a blowgun. I felt the impact of at least two darts as they dug deep into my backpack. Once again, our group backed up to each other to form a protective circle.

Another tribesman launched an attack with his deadly spear aimed at Trevor, who was facing the onslaught. Another bullet put that man down before he was able to throw his spear. The ear-splitting retort of Al's pistol laid another attacker face up on the path. We watched as the remaining natives retreated and melted into the jungle. Toxaris spoke rapidly to Al who told us to be on guard. Toxaris believed the tribesmen were not retreating but were surrounding us to attack from all sides. Without another word, Toxaris sprinted to the cover of the jungle. I suddenly felt mortal fear for Toxaris and us as Al and Trevor would not be able to fire their weapons at attacks from all sides. As if my thoughts were expressed aloud, Trevor ordered us to sit on the ground with our backs to each other with him and Al in the center to reduce the target for an attack and to allow him and Al to shoot over us.

Toxaris was right on the money with the tribe's attack plan. Suddenly, spears and darts were cascading onto us. Our backpacks were punctured many times but using them like the Roman legionnaires used their shields, the backpacks shielded us. Al and Trevor withheld fire until they could actually see the men launching their deadly weapons. Only when they had a clear shot would each of our protectors shoot. It felt like an eternity, but soon after the attack commenced, the deadly missiles stopped flying. None of us knew if the attack had ended and the tribesmen had decided we were too formidable a foe or that they were regrouping for another onslaught. As we waited for the attack to resume, there was a scream from the jungle. We tensed believing a native was about to launch himself at us, but no one emerged. Then, another scream shattered the silence, followed by another about ten minutes later. One of the attackers called out and Al quickly translated. The leader was calling for a retreat and return to their village.

There was elation among our group, but we remained in position until Toxaris emerged from the jungle. In his hand were three dart blowguns, pouches and a spear. He did not have to explain that the attack had been called off because he had slain three foes. Once again, we owed our lives to Toxaris' skills as a warrior.

The group rose from the ground and examined our backpacks. Mine had five darts embedded which I removed gingerly to avoid touching the poison at the ends. Toxaris held out a pouch, one by one, to collect the darts from us until all were safely stored in the pouches. He then handed me a pouch and blowgun. I understood that he wanted me to help defend us from another attack. Gary and Lauren got the other two weapons. Al translated that when we set up camp that night, Toxaris would teach us how to use the blowguns. Trevor got the spear since we all knew that he was now down to just four bullets and would not be able to use a blowgun and fire the gun. Unlucky for us, Trevor's Colt could not fire Al's bullets because the bore was too large.

We used precious time to dig a shallow grave for Bradley after collecting his gear and divvying it among us. Al stuffed Bradley's ID and other personal items in his backpack to deliver to Bradley's parents. I noticed the tears on his face but left Al to grieve in his own way. There was no doubt that Al was taking Bradley's death badly. In all his treks, Al had never lost a team member. This was a new experience for the professor, and he was taking his responsibility hard. After a moment of silence, we buried our teammate and Lauren took Al aside. None of us heard what she said to Al, but when they returned to the group, Al looked a bit better. It was good we had a woman's touch to call upon to get our professor back on track. We were further delayed in continuing our trek while Gary used needle and fishing line to patch his backpack. In the fracas one of the straps had torn loose. Al used the time to query Toxaris about the face and body painting of the dead natives. Toxaris explained that the designs were intended to frighten foes rather than adorn the body. He surmised and Al agreed that the attackers were probably from the village we had recently departed. It was now unlikely the warriors would return, but it was imperative that we push on and get as much distance away from there as possible.

When Gary finished, we hoisted our packs and continued hacking our way away from the area. Everyone was on guard as we could not be certain that the tribe had not resumed stalking us. I was assigned the rear of the column and often tripped walking backwards. There was no way I was going to be caught off guard like Bradley had been. Of course, it was silly and outright dangerous giving an attacker a target without the benefit of a protective backpack, but I felt better keeping my eyes on the trail we had blazed.

Living Among the Natives

The pursuing tribe had obviously given up trying to decimate our party as there were no further incidents from our rear. We had continued for another two days without any sign or attack of our former pursuers. Nonetheless, we were all on high alert through those days and nights. None of us wanted to lose another member of the party. So, when we happened upon a well-worn trail, there was both excitement and unexpressed fear that another settlement was close by.

Al sent Toxaris ahead to scout the situation and make contact if he believed the tribe might be open to our approach. Our intrepid scout returned with an ancient man dressed in a fabulous array of feathers and beads and adorned with body paint that outdid Toxaris' own ornamentation. Following the pair were an entourage of warriors and womenfolk, but none of us were afraid seeing the huge smiles on both Toxaris and the old man's faces.

 34

Solemnly, Toxaris introduced the old man to Al. Krihisiwa was the shaman of the tribe and in charge due to the chief being absent hunting with some of the male tribesmen. Many words were exchanged between Toxaris, Krihisiwa, and Al in what sounded like an elaborate show of deference by the professor to the older man. When their discussion ended, Al explained that the tribe had been contacted by other white strangers in the far past who had comported themselves well. Therefore, the tribe was amenable to our presence and welcomed us to join them in their village for as long as we wished.

Krihisiwa turned and his tribe respectfully parted to allow him and Al to proceed down the trail side by side. Toxaris followed immediately behind as prompted by the shaman. Other tribal members fell in step with each of our party with the bulk following behind. I was latched onto by a young, naked lad who continually looked up at me with a huge smile as he pointed at the eyeglasses on my nose. The boy could not have been much older than ten or eleven given his hairless body and groin. When he took my hand to cross a stream over a rickety wood and vine bridge, I gave him a huge smile in return. After crossing the stream, I pointed with my other hand to my chest and said "Mark", the lad whispered "Shori". I repeated his name louder to be sure I had heard correctly and was immediately set upon by the man walking behind me. A sharp blow between my shoulder blades stunned me and Shori cried out. Al immediately turned and ran back to where I was lying on the ground. With hands raised, Al spoke rapidly to the man. Although Al's Arawak and the man's dialect were not fluent, the man did back off. I did not get an apology from my attacker, but rather a quick tongue lashing from Al. The tone was harsh for the tribe's benefit, but the words explained why I had been attacked. " _Traditional Yanomami names, which are nicknames and frequently pejorative to one degree or another, cannot be pronounced in front of a person or his/her close relatives— "to insult" is a synonym of "to name" in Yanomami._ "35, Al explained. Apparently, the man was Shori's uncle and had taken affront to my using Shori's name especially as an outsider.

When the hubbub died down and I had bowed to the uncle to show my apology, Shori returned to clasping my hand as we entered the village. I was smitten with the lad, not sexually, but by the way he took an interest in me. Our relationship was a godsend in many ways, and the fact that Shori knew some English from the tribe's previous encounter with foreigners enough to communicate with me was a highlight. Instantly, we became friends which portended a relationship that would have a profound effect on my life, though at the time I had no idea Shori would save my hide.

Sinaa, the headhunter, returned with Rerebawa, the chief, and the hunting party late that afternoon. Following directly behind Rerebawa, Sinaa hefted the front end of a stout pole loaded with the carcass of a wild boar. These men, as well as the others who had not gone hunting, were dressed in nothing more than a string made of vine to which they tied their foreskins. Trevor's eyes betrayed the lust he felt seeing Sinaa's member. The man was more than well-endowed. In fact, there was not another tribesman who could compare. Trevor made no attempt to hide adjusting his own cock in front of Sinaa as he passed by. There was a flicker of interest in Sinaa's eyes that Trevor replied to with a wide grin. I saw the corners of Sinaa's mouth turn up slightly in response and I knew it would not be long before Trevor and Sinaa were naked together. Of course, doing so for Sinaa would mean a loss of face in the tribe given their expectation that grown men bedded women, not men. As for the male adolescents and eventually Shori, homosexual relations were expected, though not encouraged, until they reached maturity at around age twenty. With a scarcity of females and the fact that a girl was usually married when she began to menstruate, the poor lads had no other outlet for their libidos other than their hands or another sexually frustrated guy. It was a strange arrangement since both teenage guys and gals were sexually active, but not heterosexually.

Lauren and Gary were paired with a teacher to learn the language. Shori insisted he be my teacher and I was not arguing. Everyone saw the need to end relying on Al and Toxaris to translate. Gary paired up with a handsome tribesman, named Sopai, who had no interest in Gary sexually, which suited Gary just fine.

We soon learned from Gary's boasting that Sopai was not averse to sharing his three wives with Gary. All three women were horny as hell as Gary would confide to me. Sopai had been having a hard time satisfying his wives and Gary was more than willing to be his surrogate. Given the way the women adoringly looked at Gary, there was no doubt that they found Gary's cock to be heaven sent. Lauren, on the other hand, was constantly changing teachers.

In the Yanomami culture, _by the time girls reach puberty they have already learned that their world is decidedly less attractive than that of their brothers_ 36. _Women are regularly derided and beaten not only by their husbands, but also male relatives including adolescents. "Many Yanomamo women show the effects of brutal treatment by men: They are covered with scars and bruises from violent encounters with seducers, rapists, and husbands. By displaying their ferocity against women, men show other men that they are capable of violence and had better be treated with respect and caution._ 37 Interestingly enough, only related males were allowed without repercussion to physically chastise their women. We saw firsthand what our predecessor, Chagnon, had experienced. A man outside the family circle who accosted an included female was considered a threat and often found himself in combat with the alpha male. Most fighting within the village stemmed from sexual affairs or failure to deliver a promised woman, or out and out seizure of a married woman by some other man. _Among men, violence and reproduction merge into a single variable....Through violence a Yanomamo male seems to enhance his reproductive success and that of his kin: he becomes "fitter"._ 38 One particular altercation led to internal fighting and conflict of such intensity that our village eventually split up. The split was not amicable and there were numerous raids between the former friends and relatives at each other's villages.

Yanomami women learn from an early age that they exist for and at the pleasure of the men. Horrifyingly, I would learn just how important men were and how worthless females when Sopai's pregnant third wife smothered her female newborn right in front of me.

While Al continually admonished our group not to interfere in the beatings, it was difficult to watch. Shockingly, the more a woman was beaten by her husband, the more she seemed to adore him. The attention from her man was worth the physical abuse. She also could take pride that her man was macho enough to protect her from unwanted advances by others. The beatings were something we could not stop until it came to Lauren. She had been warned by Al long before our adventure that she was at a disadvantage being a female. Lauren had bristled with rage when Al said this as she believed he was questioning her abilities just because she was female. He had explained that the Yanomami culture had a much different view of a strong woman and we saw that exemplified many times during our stay with the village.

It was Lauren's fourth language teacher who was finally suitable to pair with our headstrong gal. The first three had been privately humiliated when each one had tried, unsuccessfully, to beat Lauren when she did not perform correctly. Not one of the three was prepared for the ferocious counterattack Lauren launched in retaliation for the beating each man tried to land on her. Unknown to all of us, Lauren was proficient in Tae Kwon Do. They all had excuses for Rerebawa when asked to be absolved of the responsibility of teaching Lauren, but none was willing to lose great face saying she was capable of turning the tables on them physically. Even the first three teachers did not say anything to the next because of their shame. To be bested by Lauren was a direct assault on their manhood and status in the tribe. We only found out when Lauren returned after her sessions and ranted to us about these savages who had no respect for women.

"The Yanomami have been referred in the past by Chagnon and Sanday as ' _one of the most aggressive, warlike, and male-oriented societies in the world_ '.39 Throughout our stay with Rerebawa's tribe there were many incidences of aggressiveness among the men. One episode sticks in my memory due to the violent nature of the altercation and the death of one of the combatants. I learned of the incident from the warrior after the fact. A clandestine liaison between one man and the other's wife went terribly wrong when the jilted husband caught the two fucking in the jungle. The Yanomami couples often had sex with other partners, but only in secret and by following carefully planned entanglements. This unlucky pair had believed the husband had gone off with the hunting party that morning. In fact, he had started out with the hunters, but had injured his foot stepping on a thorn. Hobbling back to the village, the man had returned to his section of the Shabono to find it empty. Questioning one of the women working in the garden, the man took off in the direction his wife had gone. With his injury and injured pride increasing with each step, the man finally came upon the offending couple in the act.

Instead of rushing in, the man crept up to the couple. His wife had mounted the man and was bouncing on his cock with abandon and did not hear her husband approach until it was too late. The woman's shoulder was sliced open by the machete her husband attacked her with. The woman would be saddled with the injury until the day she was finally dispatched by her husband for failing to perform her chores satisfactorily. As for the man beneath her, splattered with her blood, immediately sprung up and confronted the husband with nothing but his hands.

The husband quickly swung his machete severing the left hand of his nemesis. Blood spurted from the mutilated wrist and before the husband could react, the man sprinted past him towards the village. Shock and loss of blood quickly wore the man down and the husband overtook him. With a mighty swing, the husband decapitated the offender. In a final assault, the husband cut off the penis that had caused such carnage. When the husband returned to the village with the severed head and penis held over his head in victory, there was an immediate reaction from the women and children. The women wailed in grief for the fallen victim while the children pranced in a victory dance around the victor. When someone died, there is mourning, singing, and chanting. Usually the body will then be burned by the men in the village. After the body is cremated, the men gather and crush the bones that are stored in gourds. After a year, the villagers gather and have a ceremony called a reahu. The people mix the ashes of the loved one in a soup to be consumed. This shows respect and love for their departed one ensuring the soul of the dead will travel to hedus, the paradise in the sky. None of the women needed to be told that the adulterer would not be afforded this respect. His body would be left where it had fallen to decay or be devoured by predators. Thus, the women were particularly demonstrative and the children frantic in their dancing. Both reactions came to an abrupt halt when Rerebawa came out of the Shabono.

The chief and the husband held a quick conference after Rerebawa shouted at the throng to shut up and go about their business. The women and children rapidly dispersed though I noted that the boys were gesturing to each other mimicking beheading each other. At the conclusion of their discussion, Rerebawa clapped the husband on the shoulder in praise of his achievement. The husband left to return to his dwelling to deal with his errant wife. Rerebawa waved to us and then retired to his hammock tied between two trees.

This incident was the only time a jilted husband took revenge while we were in the village, but there were almost constant daily brawls among the male children. From the time they could stand, the boys had been taught to play warriors and to handle disagreements with their wits and strength. Even boys as young as five were often battling each other to get across a point or to prove their manhood. Particularly nasty fights erupted on a consistent basis between the youngest male adolescents who were having sex with each other. The tacit understanding that homosexual relations were predictable and accepted to keep the teens' libidos in check did not mean these trysts were without combat. Often the argument was over who was to top the other. Once a boy subjected himself to a stronger partner, he quickly became the "woman" for many of the other boys. So, the adolescent male population was divided by their sexual prowess into dominant and subordinate citizens of the village. The dominant boys would then lord it over their conquests and anyone else they deemed unworthy, particularly the females (though mother was always sacrosanct at least until the boy reached maturity).

Even among the dominant teens, there was a pecking order that was created, altered, and maintained by the teens constantly proving their manhood. The boys who were deemed especially superior were rewarded by their male elders with hand-me-down blowguns, and spears. The honored boys were the first to be taken into the jungle on hunting forays. They usually returned and celebrated the hunt by forcibly taking a weaker boy sexually. However, any of the select boys could see his preeminent position taken away if he faltered in hunting or combat. Every male was on constant guard to maintain or to improve his position in the tribe. Although we were exempt from proving our manhood, I was often exhausted trying to keep the hierarchy straight.

Even Toxaris was not exempt from proving his manhood although the entire village had accepted that he was my "companion". Not that I always topped. On the contrary, Toxaris was often on top and I encouraged him to fuck me both for my pleasure and to give him the illusion that he was more powerful than me. I encouraged him to boast of his prowess to the tribesmen to reduce the number of times Toxaris had to prove his manhood. As for me, the men did not think much of me as a man which was a blessing. I would have been bloodied and perhaps permanently injured if I had had to fight.

Before you get the impression that life in the village was a constant conflict, the members of the tribe also enjoyed life to the fullest. In the evenings, particularly, the villagers and eventually their visitors enjoyed each other's company. Altercations were rare in the evenings as if there was tacit agreement that this time was reserved for camaraderie and enjoyment. There was a direct correlation between the cessation of hostilities and the use of ebene. Ebene is a hallucinogenic drug made from the Anadenanthera peregrina, commonly known jobo tree. Ground into a fine powder, the men of the village used thin, hollow tubes to blow the drug into each other's nostrils. The high was intense as I can attest from partaking a few times, but the aftereffects were often vomiting and intense pain in reaction to the drug. Despite the downside, the male villagers inhaled ebene on a regular basis. Gary and I both indulged a limited amount of times, but our professor was addicted to the stuff. Lauren had no desire to partake which was good since females were not given the option to get high and then puke their guts out later.

For the men, who either found ebene to be too toxic for their digestive systems or simply did not want to partake on a particular evening, there was tobacco. Tobacco was allowed to be chewed or sucked by the women and children, too. Rerebawa tried smoking an unfiltered crudely made cigar Trevor had fashioned from the tobacco leaves, but the chief coughed violently on his first inhalation. It was his first and last attempt to smoke and the rest of the tribe refused to even try smoking or so I thought. The first evening I witnessed the tribe using tobacco I was surprised the plant even existed. Shori explained that the white men who visited long before our party had brought tobacco seeds with them. Those men had shown Shori's tribe how to cultivate the plants to become a cash crop in the hopes that the tribe would settle down and become civilized. Instead Shori's ascendants found they liked tobacco for their own use. Besides, they were not interested in becoming civilized and in any event, once the soil was depleted, the tribe moved on as these people had for hundreds of years.

I had never been a smoker and had no interest in tobacco, but Shori pressed me enough times to join him that I eventually became accustomed to chewing a tobacco plug on many evenings. Unfortunately, it is a habit I continue to follow here at home, but it was worth it to be considered a member of the tribe, at least as far as a white man could be. Trevor, on the other hand, regularly rolled crude cigars to smoke and even got Sopai to indulge. So, many evenings were passed with men strung out on ebene and the remainder of the village chewing and sucking away on tobacco. As disgusting as this may seem, the peacefulness often gave me the opportunity to learn many things from the villagers. Of course, I had to approach the drug users early in their evening snort in order to learn anything of value, but the tobacco users were more than willing to answer my questions and indulge my curiosity using either Toxaris or Shori as a translator before I became more proficient.

One of the first queries I made was how in the hell these people avoided the bugs that always swarmed around me. I was using the chemical bug repellent recommended by Al but was still plagued by the pests. The ointment Toxaris had used on me did work, but the smell was awful. I was fed up with the inefficacy and potential health risks of the chemicals. Toxaris' brew was repugnant. The villagers seemed to be immune to bug bites and even clouds of flying insects that usually hovered over me. It did not take long for one old woman to explain they used a brew made from the Tauroniro tree, though she did have to take me to one since she had no word for the genus. I only learned the name of the tree when I returned to the States with a photo of the tree and leaves to compare with a pictorial dendrology in the university library. The old lady graciously slathered my head, neck and arms with the brew. She tried to get me to remove my shirt to do my chest and back, but I demurred. I had noticed her ministrations were observed by one of the burly men. I had no desire to provoke the man although the old woman was not his wife. Almost instantly, the insects flew away, and I was blissfully free of them. The next day I had one of the younger women show me how the brew was made so I did not have to rely on the generosity of the villagers to remain bug-free. This skill was immensely helpful when I left the village and traveled through the jungle to return home.

Even more importantly, the villagers were willing to take me along on the hunting trips to teach me how to use the blowgun, make the poison for the darts, and where to shoot the animal to minimize the metabolism of the poison into its flesh. We hunted peccary, monkeys, and tapir. To everyone's delight, and especially Shori's, I was a quick learner and found I was a fine shot. The underlying disdain the menfolk felt for me originally as a man-woman was replaced with grudging respect. I would not reach the level of proficiency the villagers and Trevor had, but I held my own hunting. Although hunting accounts for only 10% of Yanomami food, amongst men it is considered the most prestigious of skills and meat is greatly valued by everyone. I learned that no hunter ever eats the meat that he has killed. Instead he shares it out among friends and family. In return, he will be given meat by another hunter. So, it was important that I be able to contribute to the hunting party's haul.

The monkeys were the easiest prey and while these did not yield as much meat as a wild boar and tapir, the monkeys were much easier to find, shoot, and retrieve. Monkey meat will never become a restaurant delicacy, but in the jungle, one consumes protein in whatever form it takes. I preferred wild boar to monkey, but monkey is probably healthier because it is lean meat. I enjoyed eating the ribs the most because there is some fat to garnish the chewy meat. Trevor and the others did not seem to mind eating the area around the groin as it also contained fat, but I usually stuck to the rib area. Although the meat was lean, it was greasy and reminded me of goat meat that I had eaten on a trip to Greece with my parents.

Our group, other than Lauren had by necessity to learn how to hunt like the villagers or in the case of Toxaris and Al to hone their skills. Lauren was not at all happy being excluded, but a united front by the hunters prevented her from even tagging along. Although we were welcomed into the village, we were expected to be self-sufficient. Toxaris and Al had hunted during our trek to supplement the protein bars and drinks we had relied on, but as our stay in the village lengthened, the need to hunt became critical to maintain our health. Al had known this all along but was so confident we would find a friendly tribe that it would not be a problem waiting until we could learn from the jungle experts. Prodded by the smell of cooking meat around us, Gary and I took on the task of learning to hunt to heart.

Rerebawa had moved us into a section of the Shabono recently inhabited by an ancient crone who had passed away of natural causes. Because the old woman had relied on her neighbors for food, we had to rebuild the fire pit in front of our area. The single hammock that she had occupied was in terrible shape, so we discarded it and we all took a lesson from Shori on how to weave a hammock of our own to get ourselves off the ground at night. Al had forbade us to use our tents. The purpose of our trip was to immerse ourselves in tribal life. Once Lauren had learned how to create cooking and eating tools from the other women, we gave up our modern pots and utensils. Lauren, at first, was miffed that she had been assigned to do this "woman's" work, but Al convinced her that she would be more fully accepted into the tribe if she would bend a little.

The women cultivate cooking plantains and cassava in gardens as their main crops. Men do the heavy work of clearing areas of forest for the gardens. Another food source for the Yanomami is grubs37 and Lauren took particular interest in searching for the slimy things.

However, Lauren continued to draw a sharp line on allowing herself to be beaten by any man or boy. The village soon learned the hard way that Lauren was not to be trifled with. Some of the men had a difficult time reigning in their wives and daughters who attempted to emulate Lauren. As much as we wanted to assimilate, there were certain limitations that had to be accommodated by the tribe. Gary often reminded us that Chagnon had been ostracized voraciously for interfering and changing the Yanomami during his stays in the Amazon jungle. We all agreed that we had to watch what we did and to observe and learn rather than intrude; however, we supported Lauren defending herself.

Another significant event almost cost Lauren her life not at the hands of a man, but by two of the women. After a strenuous day cultivating tobacco, Lauren had returned from the fields and squatted in front of the Shabono to splash some water on her face. Suddenly, a woman standing opposite shouted to another woman. The two women ran to Lauren and attempted to grab her by the arms. Lauren fought their clutches and demanded to know why she was being accosted. The women reacted by beating Lauren with their fists. She fought back, but it was difficult because the women attacked her from opposite sides. By then a large group of villagers and our own crew had encircled Lauren and her tormentors. It was Sinaa who took command by hitting the two women with his blowgun. Both women shouted simultaneously in a rapid, staccato vein making it nearly impossible for Lauren and me to understand.

We learned that the women had seen Lauren had bled from her vagina and her shorts were soiled. Lauren was mortified that she had not realized she had started her period. She had thought that the dampness between her thighs was from sweating profusely. It was embarrassing, but certainly did not seem to warrant an attack from the two women. The situation turned uglier as Al tried to explain that Lauren was not afflicted by demons. The women would have none of his protestations. It was Rerebawa who bellowed for silence. The chief called Krihisiwa to take Lauren to his sacred circle to treat the myriad scratches inflicted by the women and ordered everyone to disperse. The few women who were not happy with the chief's immediate solution to the altercation were quickly subdued by their husbands.

Because of my closer relationship to Krihisiwa, Al asked me to go with the shaman and Lauren. Al knew from his prior experiences that the Yanomami had some awfully specific ways of dealing with menstruation, but there was not enough time then for him to advise me. Al filled in some details after I returned with Lauren from talking with the shaman. In Yanomami culture, the onset of menstruation signals the end of childhood and a girl is expected to marry once her initial period is over. During the time from the first bleeding until the end of her period, the girl is excluded from participating in any tribal function, is secluded, and cannot even partake of meals. _Due to the belief that menstrual blood is poisonous and dangerous, girls are kept hidden away in a small tent-like structure constructed of a screen of leaves. A deep hole is built in the structure over which the girls squat, to 'rid themselves' of their blood. During the week of that first menstrual period the girl is fed with a stick, for she is forbidden from touching the food in any way. While on confinement she has to whisper when speaking and she may only speak to close kin, such as sisters or her mother, but never a male._ 40

It became clear that the two women who had accosted Lauren were reacting to her menstruation within the strictures of their culture. They had no animosity towards Lauren in any other way, but they had seen her talking to one of the male teens while she splashed her face, had witnessed Lauren's stained crotch, and believed Lauren should be removed immediately before she contaminated the males with her "poisonous" blood. Although Lauren was significantly older than the normal girl reaching puberty in their society, this was the first time she had menstruated during our stay. For the women of this tribe, menstruation was extremely uncommon after they birthed their first child. Frequent pregnancies, nursing, and strenuous labor resulted in an almost non-existent reoccurrence of menstruation.

Lauren also refused to bare her breasts like the village woman and absolutely would not wear the string skirt that hid nothing. She did acquiesce to wearing my tank top undershirts over her sports bras and her own shorts rather than the long sleeve shirts and full-length pants we usually wore prior to living in the village. As for the men, we also did not follow the male villagers' outfit of a string around the waist with foreskins pulled and tied at the waistline. Rather, we wore just our underwear until they wore out and bared the rest of our bodies. When the last of our underwear threatened to expose our genitals, we followed Toxaris' example of wearing a thong made of beaten fibers and sewed with twisted vine. The light blue shorts I loved seeing Toxaris in had been discarded for the more traditional thong to allow him to assimilate better. In reality, the shorts were so threadbare and worn that much of his ass and groin were on display. Only young boys went around naked so Toxaris had little choice giving up his cherished shorts. The thong was as far as the "civilized" would go in dressing like our hosts. Besides, it would have been impossible, even if Trevor and I wanted, to dress like the male villagers. Both of us were circumcised.

Shori

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Shori and I became inseparable from that first day. Shori was the son of Rerebawa, the chief of the tribe, and thus had the respect of the tribe which meant that I was treated with more deference than my compatriots. Unlike many of the youth in the tribe, Shori was always decked out in feathers and face paint as befitted his position. Like most of the tribe, Shori had piercings. He explained that there was not any special significance to piercing the nose and mouth. The Yanomami pierced themselves for decorative and ceremonial purposes. Also, unlike his peers, Shori took great care in his appearance. He bathed at least once a day and more if needed. The other children took less care, were often dirty, and smelled of perspiration. I had been lucky that Shori had picked me to be his special project.

Only Trevor seemed to mind the special attention I received. It was somewhat surprising since Trevor had never indicated he was into young boys, but there were times when I was not sure Trevor would not do something stupid. He quickly forgot my exalted position and Shori when he finally hooked up with Sinaa. I admit that seeing Sinaa's tool the first time raised my own cock, which I had to adjust surreptitiously, or so I thought. My reaction was noted by Shori's hand touching my groin after which he chuckled only loud enough for my ears. I gently removed his fingers from my growing erection and shook my head negatively. Shori just shrugged but did remove his fingers. But I knew sex was still on his mind when I saw his rod lengthen. He seemed totally at ease having a boner in front of everyone, but it seemed only I was shocked by the display. It was not the last time I would have to admonish Shori not to touch me there. I would find out that Shori was not ten or eleven but thirteen. The lack of body hair especially around his groin belied his actual age though his erect cock certainly was more than ample for a boy of his age. He was definitely not a "shower" but "grower". Old enough to be horny, but too young for me to have sexually according to my Waspish upbringing. In time, Shori would try to arrange a threesome with Toxaris and me, but my civilized, law-abiding psyche forbade me to have sex with Shori. It was the only negative thing that came between us.

I would learn from Shori that the Yanomami saw perfect sense in having their young males wait until their twentieth year to take a wife and then leave their homosexual activities behind. By twenty, a young man would have learned all the skills needed to support and control his wife, or wives if he was high on the pecking order. He would also have demonstrated his proficiency as a warrior to protect his spouse and the village. Shori also confirmed that by twenty, a young man had learned all he needed to know about satisfying a bed mate. Toxaris had already demonstrated those skills which I could personally attest to. However, Toxaris was beyond the age of maturity at twenty-two. It made perfect sense that he had joined our party even before he knew I was hot for him. While not banished for his homosexual proclivities, the constant admonishment from his tribe to take a wife was more than irritating. Shori wouldn't have the opportunity to follow Toxaris' example being Rerebawa's sire. Shori would be expected to prove his manhood and take at least one wife once he reached maturity. Until then, the little bastard (and I label him that affectionately) would try on many occasions to get me to relent and have sex with him. I admit I was sorely tempted more than once by his large tool but did not acquiesce. Toxaris, on the other hand, had no compunctions and often took Shori into the jungle alone. I always knew when the two had sex as Shori would return to me walking awkwardly and at times with spent cum dribbling down his slender thighs. In time, Toxaris would occasionally return with a well-used ass which usually meant I was in for a raucous fucking of my own. Nothing was ever discussed about Toxaris wanting to fuck me after he had Shori's cock up his ass, but I instinctively knew that Toxaris had to take me to prove to himself that he was a man.

As the chief's son, Shori was constantly tested not only by his peers, but also the men of the village. Being the chief-in-waiting did not exempt Shori from proving his manhood and skills as a warrior even at thirteen. I did notice that his peers appeared to be a bit more deferential to Shori and often any physical tussles ended in a draw. The men had no such compunction and while Shori never won these contests, his performance was often praised after he had been defeated. The men recognized that the teen still had not grown the strength and learned all the skills to be victorious but considered his efforts to be worthy of respect. After the first beating Shori received from one of the warriors when large bruises appeared on Shori's back and arms as a result of the pounding he had received, I did my best to protect the boy. The men reacted to the attention Shori received and he was constantly challenged the following days until I realized I was the cause. Shori took it all in stride, but I was horrified that my care resulted in further injury. I refrained from interfering which lessened the beatings. Shori always took his defeats manfully and never complained. When I finally fled the village with Shori, my boy had become a man in his own right. It was a shame that he would never return to his village to take his rightful place as chief, but I get ahead of myself.

Shori took it upon himself to teach me his language no matter the circumstance, which was a variant of Arawak, so I would be fluent. Toxaris had no trouble understanding the dialect and the two of them constantly prodded me to learn as much of the language they could impart. It was not before long that I acquired a decent proficiency in communicating with both of my pals. Life became infinitely easier.

During the initial hunting forays I participated in, Shori patiently taught me how to construct a blowgun, craft darts, prepare the curare and arm the darts, and then use the blowgun to bring down prey. As the chief's son, Shori could go on the hunts even though he was only thirteen which did cause some animosity with his peers left behind, but there was nothing I could do about that. He embarrassed me several times with his effusive praise in my accomplishments though I had to admit that I was proud of myself. It was Rerebawa who finally admonished his boy to stop praising me. After all, the tribe's survival depended on all adult males shouldering their fair share of hunting. I was not exempt.

I also learned from Shori what dangers lurked in the jungle from the smallest bug to the largest animal predator. On one day, Sinaa, Trevor, Toxaris, Shori and I went back into the jungle to continue Trevor and my lessons. On our return from the hunt the evening before, Sinaa had pointed out an animal trail to Trevor that had recently been created most likely by wild boar. There had not been time nor an inclination to explore that trail the previous day. The hunt had been extraordinarily successful, and we had been laden with monkey carcasses. However, with plenty of meat to feed the village, Sinaa had called for a day of rest for the hunters. While the other men lounged around the village, the five of us headed into the jungle to track down the boar.

Sinaa explained that we were not going out to hunt, but to track the boar, discover where they bed down, and then observe. I asked why we should not just hunt and bring the bounty back. Toxaris reminded me that there was plenty of monkey meat to feed the village until the next day. To kill the boar now would mean it would go bad before it would be consumed. In that moment, I realized that the village never stored meat. When I asked why, Shori shook his head and gave me a look like I was an imbecile. It was Trevor who asked me the obvious question, "How would the villagers store the meat and prevent it from going bad?" It seemed to me that there must be a way to store surplus meat, but without refrigeration and vessels to contain the meat, I was stumped. There was no ready source of salt so that was out, too. I already knew from observing animal remains that it took no time at all for insects and maggots to invade. It finally occurred to me that smoking the meat might do the trick. Rather than continue the conversation, I kept that idea to myself and vowed I would try that method on one of the monkeys I shot on a future hunt.

Silently, we made our way back to the new animal trail and as quietly as possible we followed the broken path and obvious tracks of boar. Many times, we were on hands and knees. From the number of large and small hoof prints, it was obvious even to me that a family of boar had made their way through the jungle. I imagined a roasting piglet on a spit in front of the Shabono which did nothing to calm me as we tracked the boar. I wanted Sinaa, who led our party, to move faster and I promised myself that if a young boar came within my sight, I would shoot it. Even if no one else wanted some roasted pork, I would bring home the bacon, so to speak.

We all came to an abrupt stop when Sinaa raised his hand and halted his forward motion. Looking over his shoulder, I could see a bright blue sky which meant a clearing in the canopy was in front of us. Sinaa's experience told him that it was likely the boar family would be in that area. Though it seemed impossible, we moved forward even more quietly than before. As we got to the clearing, my ears were filled with a blood-curdling scream. Sinaa sprang up closely followed by the rest of us and we burst into the clearing. As abruptly as we had moved forward, we all stopped on a dime when we saw the large jaguar with a piglet in his mouth. The boar family was in full retreat not only because of the cat but also our appearance. This cat was much larger than what one would expect. All the while, the piglet shrieked as the jaguar violently shook his prey in his powerful jaws though the yellow eyes of the cat never left us.

Sinaa raised his blowgun but did not shoot a dart. Trevor also raised his weapon, but Sinaa quietly told him to lower it. Trevor did as he was told but asked Sinaa why we should not take down the cat. Keeping his eyes trained on the jaguar, Sinaa told us that the animal's size meant that it was most likely a devil's spawn or an amahi-teri with magical powers. Attempting to kill it might bring misfortune to our group and to the village. Sinaa would only shoot if the cat made a move towards us. Shori whispered that the cat must be magical as jaguars did not normally hunt during daylight, preferring the cover of darkness to attack.

The piglet's skull was finally crushed once the jaguar tossed its body in the air and caught it with his powerful jaw. Having dispatched his prey, the jaguar turned its back on us. With a flick of its tail, the big cat melted into the jungle. We stood silently in the same spot for a few more minutes to allow the cat to remove itself from our vicinity. It was very unlikely that the cat would attack especially since it now had its meal. Sinaa lowered his blowgun and told us there was no sense in continuing to locate the sounder of boars. The remaining animals had fled in terror at the jaguar's attack. The unfortunate piglet simply could not outrun the jaguar. Opposite the clearing I could see the trampling of vegetation that laid proof to the fact that there was a stampede. I asked why we should not continue and Shori matter-of-factly told me that while the trail was easy to see, the boars would be hyperalert and our approach would simply stampede the sounder once again. He went on to say that it would make more sense to return the next day with the hunting party when the sounder was less skittish. I could not argue with his statement and we all returned to the village.

Sex in the Jungle

The first time Shori saw me naked when we went to bathe, he reacted in shock seeing my missing foreskin. I assured him that my equipment worked just fine without the extra skin, but he challenged me to show him that I could "be a man" without a foreskin. Back home I would have been incarcerated for wanking myself in front of Shori, but it did not seem strange to get off while the teen watched. Heck, sex was going on all through the Shabono at night and there were no obstructions other than hanging hammocks to block the view. Even if I could not see anything, the sounds of sex filled the night air. Getting off in front of Shori was just a natural thing, not dirty or perverted. It did not take long for my cock to harden especially since Shori had joined me in pulling at his own cock. In any case, when he saw my white cum jet from my cut cock, he just shook his head in amazement and then jumped in the stream to bathe his own spent cock.

In deference to the sensibilities of the tribe, Toxaris and I fucked far from the Shabono. We did not fuck in front of the others simply because at our ages, it was taboo to have homosexual relations. I do not really think we fooled anyone claiming the two of us were going hunting on our own. Whether it was the way each or both of us walked after a fuck session, or the smell of sex, or just the big smiles we had on our foolish faces, all but the youngest villagers had a good idea what we had been up to. Although what we were doing was unacceptable in their society, they simply accepted Toxaris and I were not like them. The women were the folks who shook their heads the most which usually embarrassed me. For Toxaris there was much less acceptance. He was one of them even if he was from a different tribe. His natural beauty and thong-covered cock had attracted me and now made him a target. Unlike the men of the village, Toxaris had not pierced himself. His unblemished skin was smooth and supple compared to the ruggedness of the villagers.

The more randy of the women made numerous attempts to entice Toxaris away from me without success. Although a sexual encounter with Toxaris was potentially dangerous if the husband caught his wife with him, the women pursuing my native were willing to take that chance given the obvious size of Toxaris' cock beneath his thong. Toxaris had to walk a tightrope not offending the women by turning them down and the jealousy of the husbands.

Toxaris also had to fend off the attentions of the unattached adolescent males who were just as enamored with his cock as the women. This problem became pronounced once the adolescents learned that Shori and Toxaris were having sex. I also received attention from these libido-driven studs almost as much as Toxaris. My having sex with Toxaris was no secret and these youths figured that what was good for Toxaris must be good for them. Toxaris reported overhearing a conversation among three young men that they were betting each other who would be the first to fuck me. Given the attention I was getting, it was obvious that I was fair game. However, it took only two aborted encounters for the young men to be more circumspect in approaching me.

A teen I nicknamed "Peacock", for the way he strutted around, followed Toxaris and me into the jungle on one of our fake hunting trips. Peacock thought he was undetected as Toxaris and I went deeper into the jungle. Toxaris leaned toward me and whispered that we were being followed, but suggested we pretend we did not know. He wanted to see what Peacock intended to do once we found a suitable spot for our tryst. I was not sure that it was a good idea, but we had not had sex in a few days and my mind was in the gutter. It was not long after that we found a clearing just off the less-used trail created by a wild boar's rutting. Toxaris maneuvered me so we each stood on one side of the trail rather than in line with the path.

Toxaris encouraged me to wait to allow Peacock to get in position close to our chosen spot. I did not have a problem with that as our tongues fought each other in a passionate kiss. Then after withdrawing and with a wink, Toxaris slowly untied his thong and exposed his already hard rod. I did the same with the same condition. We took each other's cocks in hand and slowly began to wank each other making sure Peacock had a good view. Out of the corner of my eye I could just make out Peacock's arm moving in rhythm with our own. Toxaris let go of my dick and drew close to plant a wet smacking kiss on my lips. With hands roaming each other's bodies, we French-kissed and rubbed hard cocks between our bodies. I finally could not take the foreplay anymore and dropped to the ground so Toxaris could top me.

I got down on all fours with the side of my body in full view of Peacock. I knew Peacock easily saw my rod cock drooling precum onto the ground. My native took his time entering me to give our voyeur time to move closer. While we waited for Peacock to get closer, Toxaris slowly fingered my hole preparing it for his ample rod. I did not have to fake the moans coming from me as his fingers stretched my opening and fingers entered one by one. Toxaris always knew how to prepare me well enough to slide his cock inside me without pain. Suddenly I shouted "fuck me" in Arawak when Toxaris hit my prostate. As I whimpered in anticipation, Toxaris rubbed his cock with our precum before entering me in one swift movement. I repeated "fuck me" and then "harder" in Arawak to speed up the tempo. I was delirious with lust, but Toxaris had not crossed that threshold. Unexpectedly, he popped out of my hole and jumped up.

Peacock tried to scramble away, but Toxaris was faster and caught the youth. As strong as the boy was, he was flung on the ground face down. Toxaris straddled his legs and raised the boy's unclothed ass. Peacock screamed as one of Toxaris' fingers forced its way into the boy. Removing his finger and with his cock still hard, Toxaris poked between the boy's ass cheeks with it as if he were going to forcefully fuck the lad. I jumped up and moved to the side of Toxaris and the prostrated Peacock. I could not hear what Toxaris whispered into Peacock's ear while his cock was poking the boy's unprepared hole. As suddenly as he attacked, Toxaris sprang up and slapped Peacock's ass as the boy rose to his knees. With a yelp, Peacock was up and running.

When the boy was out of earshot, Toxaris told me he had warned Peacock to stay away from both him and me. He further warned Peacock if Toxaris caught him again trying to have sex with either of us, the boy would regret it by being raped. Toxaris wanted to resume where we had left off, but I was no longer in the mood. I really was not reacting to Toxaris' threatening behavior with Peacock. It was simply because I had cum spontaneously watching Toxaris tease Peacock. I was ashamed of myself for cumming at Peacock's expense.

Our second encounter with one of the lascivious lads was more violent. Toxaris had spied the Hulk, as I thought of him, creeping up on us as Toxaris was fucking me with my legs draped over his shoulders. Toxaris whispered that he had seen Hulk, and did I want him to do something about it. I did not have to think about it since I did not want a repeat of what had happened to Peacock. Instead I whispered back that we should give Hulk a show he would not forget. With a smile as broad as his face, Toxaris went at it fucking me with wild abandon. I reacted with shouts of encouragement to increase the frenzy. My shoulder blades were digging into the moist soil, but I hardly noticed until after Toxaris came inside me with a blood-curdling scream of his own. My own explosion occurred simultaneously, and our combined loud profanities echoed in the jungle. Suddenly, Hulk barreled into Toxaris sideways knocking him out of me and onto the ground.

Hulk grabbed my leg closest to him and tried to get between my legs as I dug my elbows in to scramble away. Hulk's precum smeared my leg as he struggled to fuck me, but Toxaris' arm was soon around Hulk's neck wrenching the lad off me. Hulk was physically larger than Toxaris, but my man was stronger. Hulk went flying into the foliage. As soon as he landed on his back, Hulk sprang back up and rushed Toxaris just like a linebacker with his shoulder leading the way. Toxaris sidestepped the onrushing youth who slipped in the ground's detritus. I watched as Hulk went headfirst into a tree. Hulk crumpled like a leaf which got me on my feet and rushing to the prostrated lad. After I flipped Hulk over, I gently slapped his cheeks and was rewarded with his eyes opening. Apparently, the hit was not enough to injure the boy and he shocked me by wrapping me in a bear hug.

Caught in his arms, I struggled to free myself until Hulk went slack when Toxaris hit him with a stout branch. This time, Hulk was out like a light and I had no desire to rouse him. We left him knocked out but not before Toxaris gave him a swift kick in the groin. Hulk was so far out that the kick did not rouse him, but I am sure when he woke up, he would be clutching his family jewels.

After Hulk returned to the village, the rest of the sex-driven teens backed off trying to follow us, but Hulk's failure did not end the unwanted advances that still came my way. I had to be careful not to get caught away from the village alone. I most feared being cornered by a pair or group of sex-crazed boys. I was taller than the teenagers, but less skilled in hand-to-hand combat. I figured I could hold my own against one guy but was certain that more than one attacker would end up with me being raped. Toxaris was no longer of interest to the adolescents. His strength and abilities to fend off any advances whether he was alone or not was enough to dissuade the youths. I would regret not having that confidence and skill towards the end of our stay in the village.

Spiritual Beings

Our villagers were practicing animists who believed all life has a spirit they called xairipe. Spirits could be contacted through hallucinogens. Our shaman, Krihisiwa, often called upon xairipe to protect the village from outside tribes, increase the success of a hunt, and provide a bountiful harvest. Krihisiwa was revered by the villagers due to his success in bringing about favorable outcomes. Whether it was his faith or simply luck, the shaman had an enviable record of success. I decided early during our time with the village to learn as much as I could from the old man.

I was thwarted in my initial attempts to learn from Krihisiwa due to my deficiencies in Arawak, but with my acquisition of language skills and help from Toxaris, I learned from Krihisiwa that they believed in a god called Omama. Omama blessed the people with the forest, trees, and animals that surrounded them. Animals had once been humans long ago but had been transformed because of bad deeds they had performed. On a higher level, the universe consists of four levels or parallel layers. The highest level was a wasteland formerly inhabited by ancient beings that dropped to lower levels. The second level was roughly comparable to heaven as I believed it existed. This level, hedu ka mis, was inhabited by the spirits of the dead. It is a lot like earth, but the beings are superior. The third level was Hei ka mis and was where we lived. Beneath the earth was the hei ta beb or underworld. This was where the amahi-teri lived who brought misfortune and harm to the inhabitants of Hei ka mis.

Krihisiwa shuddered when he spoke of the amahi-teri. He was old enough to be wise and canny, but the underworld denizens scared the shaman more than being attacked by a rival tribe. When a small child was bitten by a viper, Krihisiwa rushed to the victim in full regalia to ward off the evil spirit that had entered the child. From the viewpoint of the shaman, the yopo he inhaled would give him heightened spiritual power to manipulate the xapiripe spirits. That power would heal, and conversely harm enemies. As one would expect, all the sacred smoke and incantations did not heal the sick child. It looked like Krihisiwa's record was about to be broken.

Al could not stand by and watch the child die. Gently, but firmly, pulling Krihisiwa away, Al quickly doused his knife with purified water from his canteen. The child screamed as Al cut a crisscross pattern over the fang marks. Luckily, Trevor was there to corral Krihisiwa so he could not interfere as Al bent over the bite and began to suction the poison out with his mouth. It was a blessing that the child fainted which ended the screaming that had attracted a crowd. Al suctioned until he believed the venom was removed. It would be a few hours before we would know that his efforts had saved the child. When Al rose, Krihisiwa immediately resumed his chanting over the child. He kept at it for the hours it took the child to revive. The villagers were ecstatic, but their praise was for their shaman who had fought the amahi-teri and won. They saw no connection between what Al had done and the child's recovery.

Krihisiwa, on the other hand, called Al, Toxaris and me to his sacred circle once the child was out of danger. Toxaris translated the conversation between the shaman and Al for me as they spoke rapidly, and I could not keep up. The old man had recognized Al's efforts were what had healed the child. The shaman wanted to know if Al was a healer in his tribe. Al immediately perceived the benefit of not dissuading Krihisiwa that he had healing powers. Al had no interest in usurping Krihisiwa's position or gaining tribal eminence but knew the rest of the tribe would treat him with more respect if they believed Al had spiritual powers. Although we had been welcomed by the tribe, they were still reserved and reticent to share their knowledge. Al hoped his newfound esteem would open the tribe up. That respect would ultimately result in Al's demise, but we did not know that when Al acknowledged he was a healer. Al did not dissuade the shaman that he had powers beyond normal humans., but he quickly assured the shaman that he sought no accolades or favors for healing the child. Al had seen the narrowing of Krihisiwa's eyes indicating the shaman felt threatened.

When we returned to the communal area, the mother of the child fell upon Al with a bear-hug embrace. She thanked Al profusely, all the while praising his healing powers. Krihisiwa stood stoically by Al's side, but did not deny that Al did have powers the shaman did not possess. The rest of the tribe in attendance began to chant and it was clear they had accepted Al as a healer and shaman although they would stop short of giving him the higher level of respect they showed to Krihisiwa. Shori later told me that the tribe was ecstatic they had two powerful shamans to watch over them.

I continued to study with Krihisiwa to learn as much as I could about the tribe's religious beliefs. Of course, they did not have religious services or set aside time to worship. Their religion was a constant, consistent belief in gods and spirits. The highest power was wielded by a supreme god named Omame. Omame was the creator and controlled all gods and spirits in the three levels of the Yanomami universe. Krihisiwa was certain that the world would eventually come to an end because we and our predecessors do not listen to Omame.

Krihisiwa had witnessed the destruction of the jungle by non-believers throughout his life. Plant and tree spirits had been destroyed. The air, itself, was polluted with smoke and strange fumes. The shaman was certain that eventually Hutucara, the sky spirit, would create a great wind that would clear the air. Krihisiwa claimed there had been numerous great winds throughout his life that did sweeten the air, but one day Hutucara would wipe out all people but the true believers. It was only a matter of time.

One day, Krihisiwa mentioned that as a child he had witnessed a mining operation, though he spoke of it as men breaking rocks. The noise and pollution of Hei ka mis frightened the young shaman-to-be and caused upheaval for his tribe. The tribe pulled up stakes and retreated far into the jungle to escape the white devils and their raucous mechanical beasts that destroyed the earth's spirits. The Hurburibi were underground spirits that once released caused disease among his tribe. Krihisiwa claimed that he was spared from the hurburibi because Omame had chosen him to be a shaman. Unfortunately, Krihisiwa's parents and siblings, as well as the majority of the tribe succumbed to the bad spirits they had tried to escape by fleeing into the jungle. Their brief contact with outsiders infected the tribe with measles. The shaman accurately described the symptoms of red rashes, spots, high fever, and conjunctivitis. While some of the adults had survived, scores of children succumbed to the disease. The ineffectual efforts of their shaman resulted in his suicide opening the way for Krihisiwa to become shaman as he miraculously did not succumb to the disease at all. His story explained why the tribe had moved into this remote area and also why there were so few elders. The adults we lived among had been the children who had survived.

Medical Wonders

With a little prodding, the shaman described what had happened to his kin. His younger sister was the first to develop a "fire under her skin" that remained inside her even as her breath "exploded from her mouth and ran from her nose". The fire caused her eyes to turn red and weep as the evil spirits took control. Three moons later, red spots appeared on her face and then traveled down her body until she was covered in one red, angry mass. In the meantime, his other siblings, mother, father, and his father's other two wives began to display the symptoms at various times and intensity. It was not difficult to understand that Krihisiwa was describing a measles epidemic. How the shaman had not contracted the disease was miraculous, but the old man had a simple explanation. In a dream the xapiripe had visited his mind. He described them as pinpoints of bright light like the stars in the sky. Yet, despite their size, Krihisiwa could see they were beautiful beings decorated in feathers and body paint. Their dancing and singing in his head calmed the young boy. Krihisiwa woke with the conviction he had been spared to become a shaman and to honor the xapiripe from that point on. I did not try to dissuade the old man of his belief by pointing out that he likely had a strong immune system which most likely fought off the virus before he showed symptoms. I asked him why he did not fear our presence would bring the "fire" and "red skin" to his people. He gave me a sly smile and told me that we had not released the Hurburibi by breaking rocks and warned me to not do so. I assured him that we had no intention of bringing any harm to his people. That assurance was backed up by the fact that all of our party had been vaccinated.

Krihisiwa took a special interest in me because of my respect for him and his beliefs. Had I been one of his people, I was confident he would have trained me to become a shaman. I was soon exempt from hunting and gardening to spend time with the shaman. We spent many days wandering through the jungle in search of the special spirits that gave the shaman the power to heal his people. I would not learn of the Latin names of the plants that Krihisiwa collected until after my return. The detailed drawings I created of the plants in my worn journal would aid in their identification later.

On our first excursion, the shaman took me to a vine called Cat's Claw. The vine was called that because of the curled offshoots from the stems. The bright yellow flowers were my first erroneous guess to provide the "spirits" that healed. Krihisiwa stripped the flowers from the vine and quickly and expertly wove them into a necklace he offered to me. I was flattered by his offering and vowed to myself to learn how to weave flowers into adornments to show my appreciation to him and other tribal members. Getting back to the task at hand, the shaman sawed at the vine with a fire-hardened, honed stick and then uprooted the specimen he had chosen. We returned to the village and he showed me how to turn the vine's spirit into a brew. Krihisiwa had no medical terms to explain what the brew cured, but showed me by pointing at my stomach, joints, some baby feces, and by wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. I noted these on the drawing and later learned that Cat's Claw treated stomach ulcers, arthritis, dysentery and fevers.

Cinchona, a tree, was something I already knew about before Krihisiwa took me to a specimen. In our training back in the States, Al had explained how to use the bark to produce an extract to prevent and treat malaria. We still had plenty of the medications to ward off this disease, but it was good knowing how to produce the extract in an emergency. The Cinchona contains quinine. There were times when I had wished I had some ice and gin with quinine so close at hand. The shaman shook, wiped his hand across his forehead and held his head in both hands moaning. He exhibited the symptoms of malaria through his antics.

Leaving the Cinchona behind, Krihisiwa brought me to another tree. I sketched the specimen while the shaman waited patiently. He surmised that it was important to me to draw the tree but asked me why I needed a drawing when all I had to do was look at and memorize the tree when I wanted to return to it. I could not adequately explain to the shaman why I needed the drawing for identification purposes back home. Although I am sure he thought it was a waste of time, he did indulge my desire to accurately record the Croton lechleri tree. When I was done, he scored the bark and a thick, red liquid oozed out. Krihisiwa spread a small amount of the liquid I would later call Sangre de grado onto a small cut on my forearm. I had brushed against a thorn on the way to this tree and the cut still oozed blood. Bidding me to sit at the trunk, the shaman waited until the red liquid dried. The next day, the dried liquid bandage fell off and I was astonished to see that there was hardly any evidence I had cut myself.

On another trek into the jungle, the shaman brought a youth along with us. Krihisiwa and I followed the boy over a well-worn path. Our destination was the site where the natives collected the bark of Strychnos toxifera. The boy nimbly climbed a large tree to reach the woody vine that clung to the upper reaches of the tree. Using one of the machetes we had brought with us to gift to the tribe, the boy made quick work of felling a good size branch of the vine. I went to pick up the fallen limb and was sharply pulled away by Krihisiwa. I had no idea why we had collected the specimen if we were leaving it on the ground. I made a move again to pick up the branch and the shaman again grabbed my arm. By that time, the youth had clambered down the tree. Neither had a word to describe the vine was poisonous, but the clever boy mimed using a blowgun, a dart, and pointed to the end of the dart. I reflexively stepped back from the vine realizing that this vine was the source of the poison, curare. The boy wrapped the limb in a large leaf, and we returned to the village.

Carefully, Krihisiwa prepared the curare, with the larger portion stored in a large, hollowed-out gourd. The remaining portion went into a small gourd and was stored with the other plant medicines the shaman had prepared. I certainly understood the purpose of the larger supply but had to ask Toxaris to translate what Krihisiwa said he used the curare for. In minuscule doses, the poison was used as a muscle relaxant. While I did trust the shaman, I had no desire to have curare administered for relaxing any sore muscle.

Over the weeks tutored by the shaman, I learned of the many plants that comprised the Yanomami's medicine cabinet. On my return to civilization, I shared my journal with a medical researcher friend of mine who became overly excited with one particular entry. From my friend I learned the abundant botanical resources of tropical forests have already provided tangible medical advances; yet only one percent of the known plant and animal species have been thoroughly examined for their medicinal potentials.42 I knew Krihisiwa had an arsenal of medicinal concoctions, but was naïve when it came to the fact that many of his remedies were still unknown to modern medicine. He was very coy about it, but I learned later that my friend used my information to secure a place for himself with a prestigious biomedical research firm. Apparently, the plant I described as well as its efficacy was a potential cure for cancer.

The Raid

Life settled into a routine. If I was not spending time in the jungle hunting, exploring, or following Krihisiwa I helped the women in the fields. The men chided me for doing women's work but did not make a big deal of it. I would never be fully accepted by the tribe for my sexuality and interest in what the men considered unmanly behavior, but my relationship with Shori and Krihisiwa prevented any hostility between me and them. My relationship with the entire tribe was almost torn apart during one episode that still gives me nightmares.

The day had started like many others with the tribe waking to the sunny dawn. Rerebawa had ordered a hunt the night before. We had plenty of food for another day without hunting, but the chief had decided the village would hold a feast in honor of his son's prowess in besting two peers in a mock combat. It was unusual for the chief to decide to honor his son for what many considered a normal occurrence. After all, the male youth of the village were constantly sparring and testing their physical skills among themselves. I guessed Rerebawa just could not contain his pride since the contest had been won by Shori after so many defeats. My young friend had used a few of Lauren's Tae Kwon Do moves which gave him the advantage. There was some grumbling among the adolescents about this special treatment and I suspected that Shori would be challenged by one or more disgruntled teens in the future. As much as I wanted to protect Shori from harm, I knew that I could not interfere as that would simply antagonize the men and result in Shori losing face. Besides, Shori was learning more defensive and offensive tactics as time went by.

After a breakfast of plantains and nuts, the men gathered their weapons and followed Rerebawa into the jungle. Shori followed right behind his father in the place of honor relegating Sinaa to third in line. Sinaa did not look happy about that, but there was nothing I could do to diffuse his displeasure. As usual I took my place towards the rear of the column. Although I had acquitted myself by successfully bringing back a fair share of the meat on previous hunting forays, my position in the tribe as an outsider relegated me to the back of the pack.

The day went by quickly and the hunting was good for everyone including me. We had come upon a sounder of boars and a pack of monkeys. The feast promised to be a great success with the number of piglets and monkeys the hunting party killed. Everyone was in a jubilant mood as we hauled our booty back to the village.

We had come within earshot of the village when I saw Sinaa push aside Shori and Rerebawa and run towards the village. Shori and his father dropped their booty and took off after Sinaa with the rest of the men quickly following. As I was towards the end of the procession, I had no idea what was going on. One of the youths grabbed my arm and shouted for me to drop the monkey slung across my shoulders and hightail it to the village. He did not know why the tribe had taken flight but surmised that something bad must have happened in the village. As I ran towards the village the sounds of keening assailed my ears.

By the time I got to the village, the men had surrounded a group of women who were wailing in grief. Rerebawa bellowed for silence and when two of the women ignored his command, their husbands beat them until they settled down. Rerebawa's wife was the first to speak but was quickly drowned out by the women all speaking at the same time. Again, the chief ordered the women to be silent which was accomplished without any of them being beaten by their husbands. Bushika, Rerebawa's first wife, choked on her words but was able to tell the assembled men that two of the women had been abducted by warriors from the village of natives who had broken away from our village while the women were tending the fields. Bushika had recognized the pair of abductors even though their victims were thrashing and fighting to prevent their seizure. The missing women's husbands wanted to pursue the offenders immediately, but the chief ordered them to calm down. This affrontery would be dealt with severely, but a plan had to be devised to successfully return the abductees to their husbands and teach the other tribe a lesson. It was bad enough they had resorted to kidnapping; it was the effrontery of attacking their former village which angered the chief the most.

With the skills of a battle-seasoned general, Rerebawa laid out his plan to the assembled men that evening after we had retrieved our bounty from hunting and eaten a sparse meal. The attack on the village put the planned feast on hold. Shori was a bit disappointed he would not be honored but knew there would be plenty of celebration for all once the tribe returned from attacking the other village. I had no idea what lay in store, but my whispered words to the boy that I had not forgotten his achievement made Shori smile before he turned his attention to his father.

The plan was simple in design and relied primarily on approaching the other village with stealth and cunning. A frontal, noisy attack would alert the enemy so Rerebawa planned to surround the village silently in the late afternoon the next day. When all his men were in place, the chief, Sinaa and the best fighters would attack drawing their opponents' attention once their evening meal had begun. As they engaged, the rest of the men and adolescents would attack from the rear and sides hemming in the opposition. Al chimed in that our crew would not be taking part. Trevor immediately spoke up that he was going and the look of determination on his face silenced any rebuttal from Al. I noticed Sinaa smile and knew that he was proud his man had volunteered. I did not argue with Al but determined that I was going along. I had no intention of participating in the attack but planned to observe. One might surmise that my interest was prurient, but my interest was in ensuring no harm came to Shori if I could help it. Toxaris was not asked to participate because he was not a member of the tribe, but he still planned to go. He knew his position in the tribe would be enhanced if he acquitted himself well. He agreed to accompany me which strengthened my courage and resolve. With Toxaris beside me I knew between the two of us we could protect Shori. If that meant participating in the attack, I would do so but only to save Shori from harm. What Toxaris did was up to him, though I worried that he might be injured or killed. I resolved to protect both of my guys.

The village settled in for the night without partaking of their normal evening pleasures of ebene and tobacco. I could not sleep and tried to engage Toxaris in conversation, but he sealed my lips with a kiss and then told me to sleep. He knew that we needed our sleep rather than talk or sex. With his arms around me and our nearly naked bodies pressed together I finally drifted into slumber.

Toxaris' arms grabbed me in a tight hold later than night when I thrashed about in the throes of a nightmare. I had dreamt that I watched helplessly as Shori was hit on the head by a wild, maddened enemy wielding a club. Rooted in shock in my dream, I watched as the man bashed Shori's head repeatedly until all I saw was Shori's blood and brain smashed beyond recognition. Toxaris whispered soothing words as I calmed down. He asked what I had dreamt about, but I was unable to tell him without remembering the horror. Toxaris held me until I drifted off to sleep again.

The following day the men gathered their weapons and bade the village farewell. Unsaid, but understood, was the fact that it was unlikely all the men would return. The women who I expected would be wailing and demonstrative were silent. They knew it was imperative the men restored their honor and reclaimed the abducted women. Otherwise the opposing tribe would deem our village weak and further attacks would occur.

Before the men headed off into the jungle, I told Al that Toxaris and I were going off to hunt. Although I thought Al was not buying it, he did not argue but told me to be careful. Toxaris and I went into the jungle on a path opposite of the war party only as far as being out of sight and then bushwhacked towards the path the men would take. It was not long before we met the war party and almost lost our lives as the tribe whirled towards our approach with blowguns raised. It was Trevor who shouted to the men not to shoot. My fear of being struck down was obliterated by seeing the war party lower their weapons on Trevor's command.

When the war party continued their trek, I fell in behind Trevor and mentioned I was grateful for the tribe's immediate response to his command. With his usual haughtiness, Trevor answered by saying that the tribe no longer considered him an outsider. I was not all that surprised since over time it had been apparent Trevor was highly regarded by Sinaa, the chief and his men. Trevor often sat with the men in the evening partaking of ebene, sparring with others, and had even forsook all Western clothing and shoes. He still wore a thong since he had no foreskin to tie to a waist string like the natives, but often went naked in the village which I could see drove Sinaa wild at times. The women were not far behind in their admiration of Trevor's cock and balls, but knew they had no chance being fucked by Trevor. It was unusual for a man to be naked letting his cock flop about, but none of the tribe objected. Al finally gave up trying to convince Trevor that it was against policy to assimilate and unbecoming to go around naked. He tried to shame Trevor by saying Lauren was offended by his nakedness, but that backfired when she overheard Al. Lauren saw no harm in Trevor's immersion in the tribe and told Al to back off. She did not care one bit if Trevor wanted to exhibit his junk, but her lack of interest in his genitalia made me wonder on more than one occasion if she was not a lesbian or asexual. She never made overtures towards the other women at least as far as I knew and always told the men to fuck themselves if they tried to persuade her to have sex.

I did not even try to discuss Trevor's assimilation with him. At first, I was as bewildered as Al was with Trevor going native, but knew it was futile to argue with the man. I was surprised that I felt no jealousy when Sinaa made sexual overtures and brought Trevor's rod to attention even in the midst of others. Sinaa's position in the tribe appeared to entitle him to take liberties not allowed by others. In hindsight, it was my relationship with Toxaris that took my mind off what had been between Trevor and me. Each time I began to react, Toxaris was there to talk, touch, or take me into the jungle for sex.

Trevor then turned his attention to my participation in the war party. He knew me so well that if I said I was going to fight the enemy; he would scoff and tell me to turn back to the village. So, I told him the truth of why I had misled Al and intended on going to the battle. To my relief, Trevor did not comment on my attachment to Shori, shrugged, and then turned his attention back to following Sinaa and the others. I wanted to ask Trevor if he was going to protect Sinaa but kept my thoughts to myself. Trevor was not one to be sentimental. Most likely he believed it was his duty to follow the tribe especially since they had accepted him as an equal and expected him to protect the honor of his adopted people.

As we continued toward the enemy village, I pondered over Trevor forsaking our expedition for the tribe. He had become close to Rerebawa, Sinaa and the other warriors. They had accepted him as one of their own due to his strength, skills, and especially his participation in the nightly male rituals. Trevor partook of ebene almost every night. Until my disdain became evident, he told me of his hallucinations. In many of his tales Trevor saw himself as one of the tribe and rising in stature to equal Sinaa. The last story I listened to had Trevor and Sinaa taking control of the tribe pushing aside Rerebawa and Shori. He saw himself growing old with Sinaa after they secured their role as co-chiefs. I would later realize that Trevor's hallucinations, at least in part, would come to fruition.

In any case, my attention was drawn back to the task at hand. Our progress had slowed, and everyone had grown silent. Every step forward was done as quietly as possible. The few of us wearing footwear removed them to reduce the chance we stepped on a branch and alerted the enemy. Toxaris told me to discard my sandals rather than carry them. I did not argue as they had become worn and needed to be replaced anyways. As we continued through the jungle, I eventually realized that my feet had toughened up sufficiently to have little discomfort walking without the cumbersome sandals. I decided then and there that being barefoot the remainder of our stay with the tribe was preferable. I did not give any thought to the potential of harm or of catching a disease. After all, the tribe often walked bare-footed. If I were injured, I knew that Krihisiwa's remedies would heal me.

The tribe came to a halt when Rerebawa raised his hand. Faintly I could hear some women off to the left singing and surmised that they were tending the crops ahead. Silently our party split into three groups following the hand signals of the chief. To my horror, I saw Shori remaining with his father and the frontal attack group. It was with great relief that I witnessed Rerebawa cuff his son across the head and point to the left. Shori took the blow but did not move. It was a harder blow from his father that got my young friend finally moving to the left. Without hesitation I followed with Toxaris in tow.

As we made our way towards our objective, I felt much better about Shori's safety. Our path would take us to the fields where the women were toiling and behind the village rather than where the men were likely returning to camp from a hunt. Their attention would be drawn to the frontal attack. Of course, the timing of the attack would need to be perfect to draw the men away from our group, but I had confidence in Rerebawa. My only trepidation was centered on Trevor who would be in the thick of the heaviest fighting, but I turned my mind to the task at hand of silently encircling the village.

With Shori on one side and Toxaris on the other, we waited for Rerebawa's shout that would begin the attack. Lying flat on the ground between my friend and lover, I watched the women as they toiled in the fields. The light was fading but they would not head back to the village until the young child who acted as the lookout spied their men returning from the hunt. The plan called for the attack to begin once the enemy were eating their evening meal. All we could do was wait.

After what seemed like an eternity waiting for the signal, suddenly all hell broke loose. Rerebawa's war cry was heard and then the shouts of the enemy were heard. I knew the silence that followed meant the men were locked in mortal combat, but my attention was drawn back to the sudden surge of warriors bursting from the jungle to attack the village from the sides and rear.

The women shrieked and ran pell-mell towards the village. A brave, but foolish soul ran towards us brandishing her digging tool. I watched as Shori calmly raised his blowgun and sent a deadly dart into the woman's breast. She tore at the dart in a vain attempt to dislodge it and prevent the poison from entering her bloodstream, but she dropped to the ground convulsing. To my surprise, Toxaris cuffed Shori across the head and berated the boy. Shori was momentarily stunned but ran off following Toxaris and the other men. I later learned from Toxaris that he had turned on Shori because women were only killed if they could not be subdued and captured.

I followed Toxaris and Shori after the women. One by one, the women were brought down by blows and the strength of our party. Not one of their men came to their rescue and I surmised they were all engaged in combat with the other factions of our war party. My fear for Shori's safety had been groundless, but I kept a careful watch on the boy. He had tackled a girl not much younger than him. She tried to escape by scratching at his face, but a powerful punch to her face ended that altercation. With as much skill as his elders, Shori soon had the girl bound at the wrists. When she revived, he roughly pulled her to her feet and marched her into the village.

By the time we entered the village, the others had rounded up the young and old into the center of the Shabono's courtyard. There was no sign of any able-bodied men which got our captives wailing. Their outburst resulted in the frightened children crying and screaming. A few of the boys tried to escape the encirclement to run to their mothers but were brutally brought down by machete or club. That silenced the children and women at least temporarily.

I saw Trevor among the men coated in blood but standing tall beside Sinaa. I felt a surge of emotion flow through me that he had survived until I saw him split the skull of a youngster who had risen from the ground and tried to reach his mother. The kid could not have been more than five years old and Trevor showed no emotion as he hit the child with a club. My gratitude he had survived turned to revulsion as my mind recognized that Trevor was no longer among the civilized. However, that repugnance was quickly turned towards all the war party except Shori and Toxaris.

Sinaa strode to the group of women we had captured and quickly culled out all but the younger, nubile women. The less desirables were shoved into the mass of children and oldsters. The women Sinaa chose were kept in a separate group guarded by Shori, Toxaris and a few warriors. I remained with them as instructed by Toxaris. He quietly suggested that I turn my back and face out into the jungle. It suddenly struck me that a massacre was soon to take place and Toxaris was trying to protect me from seeing it. Despite his warning, I stood facing the captives surrounded by Sinaa, Trevor and the others.

Suddenly, our men began swinging their machetes and clubs at the defenseless natives sitting on the ground. Blood and brain matter flew through the air as the men waded into the group. Some of the older children and the most able of the older folks tried to rise and fight back, but it was useless. I witnessed Sinaa tear an infant from one grandmother's arms and fling the baby into one of the Shabono's support posts. Without glancing if the child had met its fate, Sinaa hacked off the old woman's head with his machete. I turned my back to the carnage and emptied my stomach in waves of vomit. I could not turn back until the last of the screams died away. I knew the scene would make me sick once again, but my stomach was empty. I had shown weakness in front of Shori with my reaction to the massacre and needed to redeem myself if there was any hope of retaining Shori's respect.

The boy's eyes showed me compassion rather than disdain when I turned towards him. That strengthened me and I was able to keep things under control when I finally faced the center of the village. Our men were covered in blood and gore as they hooted and laughed uproariously. Even the men surrounding the captured women joined in on the celebration. As for the women they stood crying but mute. If any of them felt relief in surviving, none showed that emotion. Almost every one of them resigned themselves to their fate. They had been chosen to become the wives of the victors or enslaved until they were old enough to be a wife. The only two women who were not bound had joined the men in the celebration. The tribe had secured the release of their abducted women, but the price was hard to bear in my mind.

In small groups, the warriors went off to the spring to clean up. Those of us who had not participated in the carnage guarded the prisoners. I stood near a young teen who despite her fear whispered to me to come closer. As she was bound hand and foot as well as to the other women on the ground, I did not feel any fear moving closer to her. In words only loud enough for me to hear, she begged me to choose her when the time came. I was shocked at first that she expected me to be among the men who claimed a prize. She laid my surprise aside by telling me that she knew I was a gentle man who would treat her better than the others. I resolved to try my best to secure her as my prize though deep down I was sure that I would lose in any hand to hand combat if someone challenged me.

One by one the captured women were brought in front of our warriors. Night had fallen and torches lit the surreal scene. Our men were relaxed after bathing and eating the village's food. They had stuffed their bellies without offering any food to the captives. I had thought to feed the girl who had begged for my attention but knew such effort would result in trouble for both of us. Instead I squirreled away some fruit in a plantain leaf for her if I was lucky enough to win her.

There was minimal squabbling as each man chose his prize at first. Rerebawa, Sinaa, and Trevor were the first to choose according to rank and all three chose sturdy women of child-bearing age. I knew Trevor's choice was made to benefit Sinaa. Trevor may have become a member of the tribe, but he was still homosexual. Sinaa, on the other hand, was bisexual and wanted women who would bear him sons. The other men made their choices according to their stature in the hierarchy and the remaining women who could produce heirs were snatched up. The bickering began when the younger men began to choose the younger women and girls. Their skirmishes were brief, and selection continued until the girl I wanted was chosen by Hulk.

He made a move to claim the girl not expecting any resistance from the other adolescents. He was shocked when I stood and called out that I wanted to claim the girl. Almost all the men and youth were as surprised as Hulk, but I stood my ground and demanded the girl. Hulk gathered his wits and strode to the cleared area where others had fought to claim their prize. Shori grabbed my arm and tried to prevent me from confronting Hulk. Toxaris made no such move knowing that I would lose face if I did not follow through with my challenge. Since my standing with the tribe was already sketchy, Toxaris and I knew I had no choice. I had challenged Hulk for the girl and now had to face the youth. I was certain that Shori also understood the consequence of not fighting Hulk, but he was as concerned for my safety as I was.

Nevertheless, I had been chivalrous and now hoped I was not hurt too badly by Hulk. It would take wits rather than brawn to best the youth. I had no time to plan a defense as I shook off Shori's hand and walked to the combat area.

I ignored the smirk on Hulk's face but kept my sight on his eyes. I knew at the same instant what Hulk planned to do as he dove for my knees to knock me down. I sidestepped his lunge and watched Hulk land hard on the ground. There was an audible whoosh of air from Hulk as I landed hard on his back. I hooked my arm around his neck and taking my own wrist in the other hand I squeezed the youth's neck. Despite a lack of air, Hulk rose on his hands and knees with me astride his back. Balancing on his knees and one arm, Hulk's other fingers dug deep into my arm in an attempt to dislodge my stranglehold. I did not relinquish my grip even as I felt his nails ripping at my skin. The pain shot up my arm and I was not sure how long I could bear it when suddenly Hulk collapsed with me on top of him. I had choked off his air to the point where he had gone slack. Not wanting to end his life, I pulled my arm from around his neck. I distinctly heard the inhale of breath as Hulk revived.

I was about to slide my arm back around his neck when Rerebawa called an end to our combat. I rolled off Hulk's broad back and got to my feet. I felt blood flowing down my arm and became woozy. Shori rushed to my side to steady me as Rerebawa declared I had won the contest and the girl was mine. Trevor looked stunned and I imagined his surprise stemmed not only from me besting Hulk but also for wanting the girl. I was surprised I had come through the ordeal with limbs intact but knew that I had saved the girl from a doomed life with my combatant. I was not exactly sure what I would do with the girl but would figure that out once we all returned to the village.

Sinaa

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From their first glimpse of each other, it was obvious Trevor and Sinaa were infatuated with each other. When Sinaa had returned from the hunt that first day we had arrived at the village, Trevor had whispered to me that he intended to bed that "hunk". Before I turned to reply, I caught Sinaa staring at Trevor. The look conveyed a challenge that I could not tell at the time was physical or sexual. All I knew was that the two men were slated to meet in a physical contest.

I believed it would be a macho contest given the fact that Sinaa was greeted by his three wives. It was very unlikely, Sinaa was interested in Trevor other than challenging his prowess. As a lead hunter and warrior with a bevy of women and children, I believed Sinaa would be reckless if he had a sexual relationship with Trevor. I said as much to Trevor when he had declared his intention to have sex with the hunter. Trevor ignored me and I worried that our stay in the village would be short-lived.

It turned out that Sinaa was interested in testing Trevor's prowess both as a hunter and a fuck buddy. The very next day, Trevor was invited by Sinaa to join the hunt. Trevor acquitted himself well by bringing down a monkey with his borrowed blowgun. Sinaa bested him by bagging three monkeys, but Trevor had proven himself able to provide food, so he passed Sinaa's first test. The two would become hunting partners over our entire stay, and I suspect are still wandering the jungle in search of prey if they survived.

Trevor wasted no time telling me how he and Sinaa ended up being fuck buddies after a few days in the village. On the pretext that Sinaa had to teach Trevor how to track wild boar, the two men left the village mid-morning. When they returned Trevor sought me out and, in more detail, than I needed to hear, proceeded to give me a blow-by-blow account of his day with Sinaa. Sinaa did not waste their time pretending to follow boar tracks or to hunt the beast. The only thing on the native's mind was to fuck Trevor and as it turned out to be fucked by Trevor in return. Trevor found out that despite the demands by Sinaa's wives the man had a libido which was not satisfied with just fucking Trevor once, but twice during their first outing in the jungle.

As time went on, the two men went into the jungle on a regular basis without returning with meat to feed the tribe. Their trysts were finally too much for Rerebawa and the other men to ignore and one day, Trevor and Sinaa were set upon by the others. Shori had been sent to reconnoiter and report back to his father where the two men were. Shori burst into the village, ignored me, and conferred with the chief. Sharp orders from Rerebawa gathered some of his men and the lot followed Shori into the jungle. Not long after, Trevor and Sinaa were brought back to the village with their hands bound behind them. Our group was rounded up and brought to the center of the village.

I did not have any difficulty following Rerebawa's indictment of the two men's activities. They had been set upon by Rerebawa's men soon after Trevor fucked Sinaa. With so many witnesses, Trevor and Sinaa made no pretense of their actions. Sinaa's wives wailed as their husband admitted that he liked having sex with the white man. The rest of the village were either shocked into silence or called for both men to be punished. Homosexuality was condoned by the tribe for unmarried males, but not for Sinaa. As for Trevor, he was assailed by the crowd as an agent of the Hurburibi who had corrupted their chief hunter. Krihisiwa was consulted and the shaman declared that Trevor should be tied to a stake and left to die. It was the only way the shaman believed the devil could be defeated before he contaminated the rest of the tribe. Krihisiwa did not see any correlation between the fact that I and Toxaris were also guilty of adult fornication simply because neither of us was a member of the tribe. What Toxaris did was no concern of the tribe if he did not have sex with anyone but me.

Al immediately came to Trevor and Sinaa's defense saying that they had a right to prove their manhood and not die even if they had had sex with each other. Al argued that after all, Trevor nor Sinaa had not seduced any of the women. Sinaa was an adult who knew the consequences of having sex with a man after he had reached adulthood. Al asked what the chief would do if Sinaa had had sex with another tribesman instead of Trevor. After all, Trevor did not know it was taboo, an assertion that made no sense to me, but the chief seemed to accept that explanation. Rerebawa heard Al out and then declared that the culprits could acquit themselves by fighting the rest of the men to prove their manhood. If Trevor and Sinaa were not killed, the matter would be closed. The rest of the men considered their chief's words and nodded in the affirmative when the chief asked their opinion. Fighting was the primary method for resolving disputes among the tribe's males. Trevor heard the verdict and did not object, but he did demand that when Sinaa and he were victorious that Rerebawa and the tribe would accept their relationship. The chief and shaman conferred and Rerebawa declared that this would be acceptable. I was sure that the chief gave his consent to Trevor's demand only because Rerebawa did not believe Trevor would survive the contest.

Al and our group believed that Trevor and Sinaa had a good chance of surviving until it was evident that the two would not be fighting one man at a time. Their hands were unbound and Sinaa was led a short distance away from Trevor. Almost immediately they were both surrounded by separate groups of men. Separated from each other, they could not face their attackers back-to-back. Trevor took a boxer's stance. As soon as the man in front of him lunged to attack, Trevor lashed out with a quick uppercut. The native's head snapped back, and he crumpled to the ground. The remaining men in front of Trevor stepped back to avoid his reach while the men behind moved swiftly to strike Trevor from the rear. The man directly behind Trevor tried to wrap his arm around Trevor's neck. Fast as lightning, Trevor grabbed the man's arm and flung the smaller statured native over his shoulder. The other men behind Trevor pressed in, raining blows to his back, but they were not boxers and most strikes were flat-handed and ineffectual. With a roar that briefly stunned the attackers, Trevor whirled around and knocked another man flat on his back. Moving quickly, Trevor lashed out at the encroaching men and created a hole to escape through. The crowd was temporarily surprised that Trevor had escaped their trap, but quickly took after him thinking Trevor was heading to the jungle.

Trevor made no move to run into the jungle but bowled over a couple of men who had surrounded Sinaa. Shouting above the din, Trevor told Sinaa that he was at the native's back and to fight without fear he would be attacked from the rear. Trevor's jabs and roundhouse punches were making quick work of the attackers at his front while Sinaa was holding his own. Almost as suddenly as the men had surrounded the pair, the attack was over. Rerebawa was shaken but kept his word and told his people that Sinaa and Trevor had been victorious. Left unsaid was the fact that whatever the two did sexually was no longer a concern of the tribe. Sinaa's wives were not as willing to let the fighting decide the matter and again wailed in discontent.

Sinaa, bruised and battered, laid into each wife with a limb from the wood pile. One poor woman was slashed across the face and began to bleed profusely. She immediately went to her knees in subjugation. The other two women received several blows before succumbing to Sinaa's will. That was the last time he had to beat them over Trevor. They accepted that Trevor was just another "wife" for their husband, though at first watching Sinaa fuck Trevor in their section of the Shabono was hard to swallow. It took them longer to ignore Trevor fucking Sinaa. Sinaa would later become the beneficiary of Trevor's tutelage of the wives in how to satisfy their husband other than using their vagina. Eventually the women were initiated into the finer points of sex both with Sinaa and Trevor as well as each other. Under Trevor's guidance, Sinaa learned that he did not need to beat his wives to subject them to his sexual will. All he had to do was to choose one willing wife or Trevor to satisfy his need. Trevor taught Sinaa how to satisfy his wives whether he was fucking them or performing cunnilingus. Trevor explained to me that anytime Sinaa had the urge and none of the wives were not into it, he stood in for the wives. It was a chore that Trevor had no problem performing. Of all the familial groups in the village, Sinaa's was the happiest. That created some friction because other women wanted the same joy, but Rerebawa forbade Sinaa's wives from teaching the others how to avoid being beaten and enjoy sex. The chief knew that once the other women became emancipated from their husbands' autocratic rule, the balance of society would be upset. Some of the other men who were always having to subject their wives to their will had a more difficult time, but the status quo for everyone, but Sinaa's cabal, was maintained.

The only person unwilling to accept this new arrangement was Al. Trevor's sexual relations had adversely affected the normal cultural and sexual relationships the men and women had with each other. The purpose of our rendezvous with the Yanomami was to learn from them, not change them. Al had quite a few arguments with Trevor within earshot of Sinaa which would prove catastrophic for the professor.

For obvious reasons I was not happy about Sinaa and Trevor's relationship. Although I was having sex with Toxaris and should have been satisfied with that, I still had feelings for Trevor. I felt pangs of jealousy watching Sinaa enjoy Trevor's attentions in the darkness of the Shabono at night. I recalled the nights when Trevor brought me to those sexual highs Sinaa now experienced. It annoyed me that Trevor obviously loved being fucked by Sinaa when he had been so stingy allowing me to fuck him. After one particularly noisy night of the two men having their way with each other, I confronted Trevor and let my feelings about his relationship flow from my mouth. Trevor stood there as I spouted off. To his credit, he did not laugh at my emotionality. When I had run out of words, he calmly told me that I would always be someone special to him, but Sinaa had stolen his heart. Tears flowed from my because I still loved Trevor all the while falling in love with Toxaris. In the special way he had, Trevor enveloped me in his arms and soothed me until I gained control of my emotions.

When I was calm, he continued to talk to me until I could not stand it anymore. I pushed him away and stalked off into the jungle. Behind the curtain of foliage, I broke down again. I realized at that point that I had lost Trevor to Sinaa at least while we were in the jungle. My distress abated when I convinced myself that our relationship could be repaired once the expedition came to an end and we returned to civilization. Sinaa would be left behind in the jungle and I would do my utmost to become Trevor's one and only love once again. As for Toxaris, our love for each other was wonderful, but we both knew that our relationship was temporary. Even if Toxaris and I both wanted him to return to civilization with me, I knew that Al would never have allowed it.

In the Family Way

Life took a strange turn after we returned to the village from the raid. I had led the captive girl bound at the wrists from her village like the other men. Over the march I ignored her as my mind struggled to figure out what I would do with her. I had no intention of making babies with her. That thought sickened me. Frustrated, I asked Toxaris what he thought I should do. Ignoring the fact the girl was right behind us, Toxaris went into a litany of things she could do for me if I used her as my slave. I had to admit that having someone cook my meals, wash my meager belongings, fetch water and firewood, and attend to my every need did sound fine. On the other hand, my conscience fought against the idea of enslaving the girl. Toxaris reminded me that I would eventually be leaving the girl and him behind when the expedition came to an end. He promised that he would wed the girl after I had gone though he would refuse to impregnate her. The girl heard it all but remained silent. His promise helped assuage my deteriorating aversion to enslaving the girl, but reminded me that I would be losing Toxaris, too.

He read my thoughts and squeezed my arm briefly. Before he let go, he whispered that I would have a night to remember after we reached the village. That brightened the rest of the trek back to the village and I put the girl out of my mind though I held the tether in my hand. As for the girl, she made no sound and walked a respectful distance behind me without tugging on the line that connected us.

Our return to the village was a joyful occasion when the women and children spied the two formerly kidnapped women. They had run ahead to the embrace of the villagers. The mood turned more somber as the men followed with their captive women. The village broke up into the familial groups around each man. Most of the young children sired by the man hid behind their mothers, the daughters of about the same age as the captive challenged the woman with their eyes while the wives sized up the captive as either a rival wife or as slave material.

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The girl tethered to me gathered many stares from the assembly and especially from Al and Lauren. Everyone knew I was gay, and the villagers thought there was no good reason to waste the girl's ability to produce children on me. Both Al and Lauren asked me in varied fashion what the hell I was thinking of. That raised my hackles and I pointedly said that the girl had begged me to choose her and I complied. They shook their heads and Al was about to argue when Toxaris joined the conversation. He told them that he would take the girl off my hands when the expedition returned to our homes. That assuaged my compatriots and no more was said. As for the villagers, a few had overheard Toxaris and still thought it was waste since Toxaris had, by his actions, shown he was interested in men. They and I would later be surprised by Toxaris' attention to the girl.

When the women moved to prepare the meal and the men took their customary spot at the center of the village, Toxaris ordered the girl to prepare a meal for me and him. Her bonds were released, and she rubbed her wrists, but made no complaint as she gathered the necessary implements and food. In little time, she had cooked our dinner and served us before taking any food for herself. She moved from the cooking fire to sit behind us, but I elbowed Toxaris to move over and indicated she should sit between us. There was a flicker of surprise in her eyes, but she obeyed me. After taking a few bites of our delicious repast, I asked her what her name was. She refused to answer believing, as all Yanomami did, that giving her name would bring bad fortune. I did not press the point but asked Toxaris what the word in Yanomami was for "beauty". He replied "Tohiti" and that became the name I used for her. Again, a flicker of surprise passed her eyes, but she also demurely smiled.

When we finished the meal, Tohiti asked if she could go to the stream to clean the utensils and bathe. Toxaris immediately jumped up and said he would accompany her so she would not run off. I thought it was unnecessary to worry Tohiti would flee. Her village had been decimated and she certainly was better off with us than on her own. That enigmatic smile told me that she was pleased Toxaris would go with her which, at the time, did not strike me as strange. After all, she was newly arrived and still had to find her place in the tribe. The two of them made their way to the stream as I settled down with some tobacco to ruminate over the last days.

I wondered what was taking the two of them so long to return and rose to search them out when I spied the pair coming down the path towards me. Tohiti carried the utensils with Toxaris weighed down with banana leaves. Nothing seemed out of place, so I settled back down. Toxaris joined me in chewing tobacco as Tohiti sat weaving a mat for sleeping. I mentioned to Toxaris that we should have Tohiti weave a hammock for herself, but he said that that might cause problems as the other women always slept on the ground below their men in hammocks. That was an unusual arrangement for the Yanomami but worked for the village. I understood Tohiti's place in the village as a newcomer paired with two gay men, so I relented and made no mention of it again.

The week that followed fell into a routine and I admit I enjoyed having Tohiti do the woman's work. She worked hard to please both Toxaris and me. She began to associate with some other young women in the village and I occasionally noticed two or more of them looking in Toxaris' direction with smiles on their faces. It seemed a bit odd, but I did not give that much thought. But it was a shock when I discovered why Tohiti had been accepted so readily and the women's interest in Toxaris.

About a week later Toxaris and Tohiti had gone off to bathe and time went by. I began to worry that they might have gotten into trouble or injured so I made my way quietly to the stream. If they were set upon by another tribe, I had no intention of letting the assailants know of my coming. My blowgun was at the ready when I reached the bank of the stream but fell from my hands when I spied Toxaris and Tohiti. She was on her back with legs raised and Toxaris was between them with his cock pumping into her. I stood watching in shock that the man I had sex with was now going at it with a woman.

Toxaris withdrew quickly when Tohiti called out to me. She had seen me standing in shock and knew instinctively Toxaris had to stop and go to me. He nodded his head at the girl and walked rapidly toward me. His cock was still hard and bounced from side to side. It was too much for me and I turned and fled back to the village. My eyes filled with tears when I realized that Toxaris was not behind me. When I reached the Shabono, I slid onto my hammock and buried my face in my hands.

Toxaris placed his hand on my back and soothed me as silent sobs wracked my body. I knew that our relationship would eventually end with my return to the States, but his fucking Tohiti was a betrayal. I had been faithful to him the entire time and believed he had been likewise other than his trysts with Shori. Now with Tohiti he had jilted me in the most heinous way. He had had sex with someone else and it was not even a man. As much as I would have been upset if Toxaris had sex with another man, it seemed horrendous that he had cheated with a woman. Trevor had cheated on me more times than I could count, but at least it was a man he fucked. In reality I had no leg to stand on myself as I had cheated on Trevor, but I had never cheated on Toxaris. I certainly had the opportunity to fuck and be fucked with numerous adolescents in the village. In every case no matter how my cock reacted I had been faithful to Toxaris. I angrily told Toxaris to leave me alone and he wisely obeyed. I heard his hammock stretch as he went to bed but kept my head averted. Eventually I fell asleep.

The following morning the meal was a strained affair. I still had not gotten over what I had discovered and refused to converse with either Toxaris or Tohiti. When Sinaa called the men together to hunt, I grabbed my blowgun and joined the men. Toxaris followed silently behind. He made no effort to speak with me as the day wore on. My mind was not on the hunt and I had no meat to bring back when we gathered to return to the village. Toxaris, on the other hand, had three monkeys slung over his shoulders. In the usual fashion I took my place towards the end of the line for the walk back. Toxaris squeezed into the line just ahead of me.

Not far from the village, Toxaris let the monkeys slip to the ground preventing me from going any further unless I wanted to bushwhack through the jungle. He turned to face me, and I stopped in surprise at the look he gave me. We remained in place as the other men continued down the path. When they were out of earshot, Toxaris made it very plain that he was upset with my reaction to finding out he and Tohiti were having sex. We argued for a few minutes and then before I could fend him off Toxaris leapt at me. His arms went around me, and we came face-to-face. He professed his love for me before his lips crushed mine.

I tried to keep my lips sealed but succumbed to his ardor and felt my cock rise. Toxaris held tight as he forced both of us to the ground without once unlocking the kiss. We laid on the ground entwined in arms and legs as our tongues battled further increasing my need for this man. Having reached my limit, Toxaris willingly allowed me to roll him onto his back. My knee parted his legs and he raised them which gave me access to his hole. I spit into my palm, rubbed my saliva onto my hard rod, and with no preparation shoved my cock into Toxaris' channel. He stiffened as the pain rippled through him but made no effort to stop me. I felt his sphincter clamp down trying to keep my cock from going any further and I came to my senses long enough to stop to allow him to adjust. With a sigh, Toxaris relaxed and opened up to me. I fucked him silly with both of us uttering words of love until we both shouted out as his cum splattered his chest and mine shot into his body.

After I withdrew, we laid side-by-side recovering. Turning to me, Toxaris looked me in the eye and told me that he loved me totally and that Tohiti meant nothing to him romantically. I scoffed and told him that he appeared to be quite happy fucking her when I caught them. Toxaris turned serious and told me that although we loved each other we both knew that there was an end to our relationship when the expedition left. I could not argue with that and felt a deep sadness that this man would not be a part of my life beyond the present. Toxaris went on to say that once I was gone, he had to solidify his place with the tribe. In order to be fully accepted it meant he had to take a wife and sire children. Again, I could not argue with the truth of what he told me. He told me that he had been muddling through his future in his mind for a while. He admitted that he had thought of fucking one or more of the young men, but while that would have satisfied his libido it would not have gotten him any closer to acceptance. He quickly assured me that he also controlled himself thinking of what that might have done to our relationship.

When Tohiti came into our lives, Toxaris realized that she was the solution to his dilemma. He stated categorically that he did not love her but would have sex with her to satisfy the tribe's mores. His stature would greatly increase if he produced a son. I expected to see sadness in his eyes, but they were clear and unexpressive. I realized he had accepted he had no choice once I was gone. I did feel sadness for him. He would be suppressing his God-given sexuality for a life that was barren of true love. When I said much the same thing to him, he smiled. I asked him what was humorous, and he cautioned me not to be upset before he told me that he found he enjoyed fucking Tohiti. Toxaris suggested that I try it with Tohiti, but I firmly told him that would never happen. We talked about that for a few minutes with me thinking that I could never enjoy fucking a woman. He admitted that it was a different entering her vagina, but once he got past that, there really was not much difference in shoving his cock in and out.

He shocked me by asking if I might like to fuck him as he fucked Tohiti. My immediate reaction was of revulsion, but as I thought about it, I had to admit to myself the ménage trois held some fascination. Toxaris climbed on top of me and my legs went up on his shoulders to allow his cock to enter me. All the talk of sex had loosened me up enough that there was only a twinge of pain as I felt Toxaris' tool slide into me. By the time we finished with a second outpouring of cum in and on my body, I was ready to do a threesome after some recuperation.

We returned to the village with Toxaris' bounty and added it to the communal haul. As was usual, our meat went to others and we received meat for our meal from another hunter. Tohiti took our share from Toxaris and I saw her raise an eyebrow in his direction. He nodded and a big smile crossed her face. It was certain that the two of them had conferred before the hunt and I had willingly fallen into their trap. After our dinner, Tohiti demurely suggested the three of us go to the stream to bathe, but I begged off saying I was too tired. Tohiti was disappointed but Toxaris jumped up and the two of them went off. That man of mine had a libido that never seemed to waver. I suspected that Tohiti was in for the ride of her life since Toxaris had been successful bringing peace to our little household.

The next evening Tohiti again asked us to bathe and there was no hesitation on either Toxaris' or my part. The night before I had dreamt of fucking Toxaris as his cock slid in and out of Tohiti. If my dreams were any indication of what I was about to experience, I was eager to try it. As much as I wanted to, I did not run down the path to the stream which slowed the others. I was sure that my excitement was shared by Toxaris and Tohiti without saying a word. When we reached the stream bed, Toxaris took the lead and we traveled a short way in the water downstream.

I followed Toxaris out of the water and climbed a sloped grade to find an amazing place for our tête-à-tête. At the top of the bank was a clearing of the brightest green moss I had ever seen. In the center was a moss-covered fallen tree of large girth. The canopy above was split by a circular hole that seemed to be perfectly created to allow a shaft of warm sunlight to fall on the tree. My amazement showed on my face which caused Toxaris to smile before he said that he had recently found this place and thought it perfect for our threesome. By explanation, he told Tohiti to lay on her back on the log, raise her legs and then he hovered over her body with his arms holding him up. That position put his ass at the same height as my cock which rose as I envisioned how we were going to have sex work. My excitement was shared by the others and Toxaris and I both went to work preparing orifices for penetration.

Tohiti's moans and whimpers as Toxaris used his fingers and mouth to open her up excited him and his squirming on my tongue and fingers drove me to the brink of cumming before even entering my lover's chute. I begged them to slow down which they did briefly before Toxaris' cock drove itself into Tohiti's cunt. It did not take but a few seconds before my own cock slid into my man's hot, wet tunnel. There was a moment of minor thrashing until he and I got into a fucking rhythm that matched each other.

Again, I felt the pressure building to let cum fly and begged Toxaris to slow down. He continued to keep up a steady pace until Tohiti told him to stop. Obediently he complied and the three of us took a breather with two cocks still embedded. They moved once again when Tohiti pushed her groin up and Toxaris and I found our mutual rhythm once again. He and I continued to pound holes until we both let out a cry as we pushed deep into the body impaled on our cocks. I could feel the pulses of his cock as he unloaded into Tohiti which increased my own ejaculation. It seemed forever before my spurts finally ended and I had no desire to withdraw from Toxaris' ass. Reluctantly I pulled out when my man flatly stated that his arms ached from hovering over Tohiti and supporting himself from my onslaught.

Toxaris pulled out of Tohiti right after my cock left his well-used hole. He flopped down on his back on the soft moss beside the tree. I made to join him but before I could lay down, Tohiti told Toxaris to move away from the tree so she could lay on one side of him with me on the other. Toxaris did not need to be encouraged to move and made room for her. As soon as he was in place, I laid down on his other side. Tohiti and I both laid on our sides facing Toxaris' body and we both caressed the man we cared for with our fingers and lips. Our light touch did not prevent Toxaris from falling asleep. The girl and I both chuckled when Toxaris snorted in his sleep. Our ministrations and his exertion had caused him to slumber but that did not stop his cock from hardening.

Tohiti asked if I minded her sucking his cock which I did not if she allowed me to do it, too. She smiled and whispered that she had no problem with that. Together by turns we kept our man's tool hard and both tasted the precum that sprang from his cockhead. Toxaris pretended to sleep until he could not resist pushing his cock into my mouth. Tohiti wanted to take over, but I gently pushed her away. She did not protest, and I was able to finish off a second load from Toxaris' rod. From that time until I left them behind for good, Toxaris enjoyed being fucked and sucked by me as well as fucking Tohiti when she was not sucking his cock. As for another threesome, sadly that did not happen.

Tohiti took over the gardening, gathering of wood and food from the jungle, as well as all the chores familiar to the womenfolk of the village. I found myself with time on my hands since I no longer had to ensure Toxaris and I survived. I did not spend the time in leisure when I was not out hunting with the men. Instead, I rededicated myself to the scholarly study that had been my original purpose for joining the expedition. Al was pleased with my renewed efforts to observe and record the village and its inhabitants. In all honesty I did not learn much of anything new but took the time to write in my journal all of what I had witnessed. Since the journal's blank pages were finite, I took to writing in a shorthand I devised to cram as much information onto each page. In my haste to flee the village later, I did remember to grab my journal which assisted me in recalling much of this adventure.

With Tohiti's arrival, Toxaris also found time on his hands. Without having the task of scholarly research, he grew tired of the monotony. Hunting was not a daily occurrence and Toxaris had little interest in joining the other men lounging around. One night he laid on the stream bank again between Tohiti and me and said he was returning to his village. I sat up abruptly in shock and started to argue that I would not allow him to go. Toxaris let me rant about the dangers and foolhardiness of going back until I had run out of breath. Calmly, he explained to Tohiti and me that he had to go back and fetch his younger brother. Having a sibling had never come up in our conversations about his past life so I was as surprised by that as his desire to go. Toxaris disclosed that his brother, Davi, was gay just like him. They had not had sex with each other as that was taboo, but before Toxaris had left his tribe, Davi admitted that he had willingly been taken sexually by their uncle. Toxaris and Davi talked about gay sex and it was apparent that Davi liked it as much as Toxaris at least in the beginning. However, Toxaris confronted his uncle after learning his brother had been hurt inside by the older male relative. The uncle denied the relationship in public and Toxaris had been punished by his father for spreading lies about the uncle. Toxaris told us that the sex between Davi and the uncle continued and was often abusive. Davi no longer wanted to be used by their uncle and tried to avoid being alone with him. Shortly before leaving his tribe Toxaris learned from Davi that the uncle had raped him. The uncle denied, their father sided with his brother, and once again, Toxaris was beaten for standing up for his brother. This second beating left Toxaris with serious injuries which thankfully healed without deforming him. With shame in his eyes, Toxaris admitted the reason he fled his tribe and joined the expedition was due to his inability to confront the uncle and end the abuse. It had seemed easier to flee and forget, but Toxaris had not forgotten and it weighed heavily on his mind that Davi was at the mercy of the uncle and their own father's refusal to protect him.

The time away from the situation had hardened Toxaris' body, honed his fighting skills, and given him the courage to now return and rescue his brother. Tohiti accepted Toxaris' decision understanding that he wouldn't have any peace until Davi was brought back. I found few arguments I could express especially since doing so probably would be taken as me questioning Toxaris' manhood. It was Toxaris' turn to argue when I gave up trying to dissuade him to go and stated that I would go with him. Adamantly refusing to give in, I wore Toxaris down and he agreed to let me accompany him. With that decision, the three of us returned to the village for the night.

I woke the next morning to find Toxaris was not in his hammock and Tohiti was nowhere to be found in the Shabono. I did not think much about either of them missing. Toxaris and Tohiti were early-risers and he often went out to the fields with Tohiti to keep her company when there was no hunting scheduled. Wiping the sleep from my eyes, I left the Shabono and headed to the fields in search of Tohiti. I was a bit miffed that she had not left behind a breakfast for me as she normally did. My bad mood turned to outright anger when I found Tohiti tilling the soil, saw no sign of Toxaris, and then learned from the girl that Toxaris had left for his village during the night. I am ashamed to admit that I lost it, grabbed the digging tool from her hands and beat her a few times with it. She cowered but took the beating in stride. After all, it was the way the Yanomami men administered punishment for their women's misbehavior. Despite her stoicism Tohiti was unable to muffle a cry after a hard hit which ended my abuse. My anger evaporated and I grabbed the girl in a hug. Her tears ended as I apologized for my behavior and begged her forgiveness. She looked at me strangely since she had never experienced or witnessed a man admitting he had done wrong. Quietly she explained that Toxaris had threatened to beat her if she woke me as he stole away.

I asked her when he had left, but her answer was vague. Keeping time in the jungle was dictated by the rising and setting of the sun. No villager had a timepiece and really no idea of the intricacies of time like minutes or hours. All she could say was that Toxaris had left after he was assured, I was asleep. So, he had anywhere between shortly after I had shut my eyes to early that morning. I had to assume he left as soon as he could which meant there was no way I would catch up with him. Since I also had no idea of where his village was, I was clueless on how long he would be gone. Suffice to say, his absence was a constant irritant to me in the ensuing days.

Davi

  45

My irritation soon turned to dread when Toxaris did not return in what I assumed would be a reasonable amount of time. Tohiti did her best to reassure me that Toxaris would return unscathed and with his little brother. She was able to keep her spirits high for a while, but then also worried when two weeks passed. I had nightmares of my man being attacked by a predator, falling into the hands of a rival tribe, or worse. There was also the possibility that his own tribe turned against him for running off with the expedition or that his attempt to free his brother had met with disaster.

I should have had more faith in Toxaris, but my fears overwhelmed me. I became a zombie letting myself go physically and mentally. Trevor tried to get me out of my funk by trying to have sex with me, but I wanted nothing from anyone other than Toxaris returning to me. Tohiti did her best to persuade me to at least eat something, but the desire to live withered as the days went by. When I was not imagining all the dangers Toxaris faced, I found myself weeping uncontrollably. I realized that my feelings for Toxaris went far beyond what I had told myself prior to his departure. Trevor had a place in my heart, but that was just a fond memory. Toxaris held sway over my entire being.

When Toxaris emerged from the jungle, Tohiti saw him first. She screamed at me to get myself out of my hammock. At first, I ignored her as I thought she was simply trying to get me to move. When she slapped me and yelled, "Toxaris", I leapt from the hammock slightly twisting my ankle. I pushed through the pain and ran to Toxaris. Nearly bowling him over, I hugged him tight and whirled him around like he was a rag doll all the while planting kisses on his face. When I finally stopped, his face was red with embarrassment. A crowd of men had gathered and witnessed my less than manly welcome. I noticed that more than a few had scowls on their faces. Toxaris saved us from any altercation by loudly saying, "This gringo is such a woman who deserves a beating". One man chuckled and then the lot of them started laughing. I heard enough comments about my lack of masculinity and should have been riled, but Toxaris pulled me away. It was then that I noticed his younger brother, Davi.

Davi had wisely remained at the outskirts of the settlement and was hardly noticed by anyone. Properly chastised for my behavior, I waited patiently while Toxaris fetched his brother. Many of the villagers watched as they approached. Davi walked tall and proudly beside his brother. His demeanor exuded confidence rather than swagger. I noticed the villagers react in various ways. The older crowd admired the young man while the younger crowd fell into two groups. The teen girls looked at him coyly and their eyes flirted with him. The males of his age group were not threatening, but it was plain they were not happy with a new competitor for the females. No one accosted or interfered with Toxaris and Davi as they headed for the Shabono. I followed a few steps behind.

As we walked away, I wondered what the tribe thought of the bright red mask on his face. None of our villagers sported such elaborate decoration and Davi was not pierced like the young of our tribe. Around our cook fire I sat across from the boy who I surmised might be twelve or thirteen. I was struck by his beauty. He and Toxaris had been blessed with clear skin, good teeth, and a handsome body. I had no interest in Davi sexually as he was much too young, but the gay in me could not help admiring him. He noticed my staring and gave me a dazzling smile with the hint of seduction. I knew I would have to watch out or the little bugger might try to seduce me. I had no doubt he knew what to do with his guile and equipment if Toxaris' stories about Davi and his uncle were even half true.

My attention was drawn away from Davi as Toxaris told Tohiti the story of his return to his village, the ease of stealing Davi away, and their narrow escape during the trek back here. The part about Toxaris' journey back to his village was uneventful. Without the aid of compass or maps, Toxaris still successfully traversed the jungle from this village to his former home. I was struck by the inherent skill he and others had in traveling through the jungle without difficulty. His story became more interesting when he told of his stealthy arrival outside his family's village.

"I really had no idea what reception was in store for me with my reappearance. My mother would most likely have welcomed me with open arms, but my father likely would have been belligerent and even hostile. His son had left behind his family and village in secret. Not even the best warrior would have been able to survive on his own for all the time I had been away. This meant that I would have joined up with another tribe which was exactly what happened. Being a member of another tribe could potentially portend a raid following my return. My father would have, at minimum, tried to beat me and then ask questions later. I am certain that I could have bested my father but had no heart to fight him. I decided to lay low and observe the village until I was able to meet Davi when he was alone. As much as I would have loved to see my mother, she is of a traditional mind and after greeting me would have told my father of my return.

I had already made up my mind that I would bring Davi back without my family's or the tribe's knowledge. I knew that our family would never allow Davi to willingly leave and I was not even sure that Davi would want to. The tribe would have turned on me and probably killed me. As I lay in the jungle watching the village I wondered if my desire to save Davi was not really to save him but to fill the hole in my own heart. My doubt was washed away when I finally met Davi at the spring at dusk. I was in luck that the rest of the boys had left the spring ahead of Davi.

Davi whirled towards me when his name was quietly spoken. The gourd filled with water tumbled from his hand as he threw himself at me. We bear hugged each other silently until I felt my brother's tears on my chest."

Davi protested that he had not cried and Toxaris did not argue, but Tohiti and I both new that Toxaris had not told a lie. Toxaris had his faults, but he had never lied. Toxaris continued with his tale.

"Gently prying myself from Davi's grasp, I whispered I had come to take Davi away. I expected some resistance but was surprised by Davi's response that every day he had wished I would return and help him escape. He wanted to tell me how our uncle still abused him and that our uncle had forced Davi to have sex with another man. Anger flooded me and although I now wanted to kill both my uncle and the other abuser, I knew it was more important to get as far away as possible. On the spot we began the trek back to my adopted village.

Unfortunately, neither of us had seen the young girl hiding at the far end of the spring's clearing. I suspect she had hid not knowing if I was friend or foe in the scant light when I approached the spring. She could not hear what we whispered about, but when we started off on the path away from the village, she must have known something was up. She was not sure who I was in the dim light but knew of Davi's brother's disappearance and now wondered if Davi was also escaping their village. She decided to follow us to learn more before likely running back to the village to alert the men.

Despite the desire to run as far and as fast away from the village, I knew that haste could mean the difference between disaster and a safe passage. What little light had been present when we reunited, had waned and now the dappled moonlight through the canopy was our only light. We walked slowly taking care of where we stepped and because of our caution, we both heard the girl following us. There was nothing else to do but take off despite the danger. The girl would hear we bolted and would return to the village. It was likely the men would pursue us once they got organized. I knew Davi and I had to put as much distance between us and the men as possible.

We traveled as fast and far as we could in the darkness. The night was both a hindrance and a blessing. Having to watch our step and be alert for any dangers prevented us from fleeing hastily. On the other hand, the darkness also made it difficult for any pursuers to follow our trail and catch up with us. I knew that once dawn broke; our retreat would be clearly seen as we made no effort to hide our tracks. It was imperative that we take more care moving through the jungle if we were to elude the villagers behind us. Neither Davi nor I wanted to be caught and I did not want them to discover this village.

As soon as there was enough light, I made the decision to slow our progress and take more care in hiding our route. We came upon a stream and although it was not heading in the right direction, we entered the water and moved rapidly downstream. Our splashing would have alerted any pursuers close by, but I reckoned that we still had enough of a head start that no one would hear us. Davi kept up and I was proud of him. He is much younger than me and is not as tall, so he had more difficulty moving through the water.

We continued down the stream until the sun was high in the sky. I suppose that we did not have to travel in the water for such a long distance, but I did not want to take any chances. My former tribe was adept at tracking, and they would have traveled up and down the stream looking for our exit."

Davi interrupted his brother by telling us that he thought he was not going to make it. Their slogging through the stream had exhausted him. At one point he had tripped on a rock and gone under. It was only Toxaris' grasp of his arm that had pulled him out of the water to stand upright again. I saw the admiration in Davi's eyes as he described his rescue. Toxaris picked up his tale once again.

"After I righted Davi, I decided we had gone far enough and needed to rest. We continued downstream a short distance more and found a large, flat rock still in the water, but high enough to let us lie down without drowning. Davi fell asleep almost as soon as he laid his head down. I tried to keep my eyes from closing but lost the battle. I was awakened by Davi gently prodding my arm. Hunger had wakened him and as soon as he said he was famished, my stomach growled.

I left Davi on the rock and stepped into the jungle. I followed the sound of a troop of monkeys that were close by and brought down an adult. Triumphantly I returned to my brother. He looked at my prize across the water and jumped off the rock making his way to the opposite bank. I called out to him to ask what he was doing. He called back that he was going to collect wood to build a fire to cook the monkey. I told him to return to the rock because we were not going to build a fire. Davi looked sheepishly at me when he realized that a fire would produce smoke which could alert our villagers or another tribe to our location.

After I returned to the rock, I skinned the monkey and split it open. The meat would be too tough to eat, but the guts were easy to chew. We both relished the nourishment and sated our stomachs enough to continue our journey. If our pursuit were still tracking us, they would see the trail I made in my search of food, so I decided to continue downstream in the water until nightfall. Then after a short rest we would leave the stream and head in the right direction back here. When we finally left the water, dusk had fallen but there was enough light for us to be able to cover our tracks away from the water. I suspected that we were no longer being followed, but I wanted to take no chances. It turned out that my caution proved valuable.

We had not made it far into the jungle when Davi and I both heard heavy splashing coming from the stream. Immediately, we both dropped to the ground and listened to the sounds of the men continuing downstream. Davi grabbed my leg when we heard our father's voice. I felt Davi tremble in fright. I stilled my own panic. I had to be strong for my little brother."

Davi broke into the narrative and admitted that he was scared to death when he heard his father but Toxaris' calm stilled his fears. A tear formed in his eye and I was again struck by the love this youngster had for his older brother. Davi wiped away the tears and smiled at Toxaris which prompted my friend to continue.

"Davi and I remained flat on the ground until the next morning. He had wanted to move further away from the stream under the cover of darkness, but I knew we had to avoid creating a trail or making a sound. It was likely we would hear the men returning especially since they would be moving against the current if they stuck to the stream. On the other hand, they could also return by land along the streambed. We might hear them on land, but there was no guarantee. I was slightly anxious that we had not moved far enough away from the stream if the men came back on our side, but there was nothing to do but hope we were hidden. We both slept fitfully taking turns on watch and once dawn broke both of us were anxious to be on our way. We moved slowly taking great care to hide our tracks. The tribe must have given up trying to find us because we did not hear or see them after that night. I suspect that only our father wanted to find us. His position in the tribe would be diminished having two sons leave the village. I am sure that it was not love that prompted his pursuit. He had already shown me through his actions that he did not care about Davi nor me. The other men would have followed him but only for so long. Most likely they were happy that I had not returned and Davi was gone because we were gay. It is likely they believed that Davi was the perpetuator and by evil magic had caused our uncle to have sex with him. Finally, we found our way back without further incident."

As soon as Toxaris finished his tale, I rose and hugged the man I had grown to love. Shori beckoned Davi to stand and wrap their small arms as far around us as they could. Tohiti joined our group hug and I realized that I now was the head of a family. Despite all my failings, these natives had cast their lot with me. I needed to step up and take responsibility for all of them. Shori and Toxaris were more adept at hunting, Tohiti was a better gardener and cook, and I was a neophyte in the jungle, but I was the oldest and therefore the head of the family.

The Accident

Life settled into a routine with my little family. Shori, Toxaris and I joined the hunting parties and brought home our share of the bounty. As was the custom, our spoils were given to others and we received an equal share of meat from others. One could argue that we should have been able to keep our share to ourselves, but that was not the way of the natives. In times of plenty, the sharing of the hunt was in equal measure. It was when the hunt was not as bountiful that the native way of dividing and sharing the largess made all the sense in the world. Although each family was expected to be self-sufficient, that was not always the case. At times, the members of the hunt were not as successful as others. Men suffered illness and injury preventing them from hunting. Raiding parties would have left the raiders without meat on their return. Whatever the reason, the tribe took care of each other by sharing the food both from the jungle and the gardens. In times of reflection I often thought that this communal support transplanted to the civilized world would have solved the hunger felt by the less fortunate.

Tohiti and Davi toiled in the fields with the other women and children. At first Davi had protested that gardening was women's work. He had tried to join the hunters before they left the village and was laid flat on his back by Sinaa when Davi refused to leave the group. I explained to Davi that although he was skilled as a hunter, his place in the village had not yet been secured. He had to abide by the rules of the village and wait until Sinaa decided he could hunt. Although Davi sulked for a good day or two, he eventually acquiesced to the wishes of the tribe and me. I certainly did not want to upset the villagers by insisting Davi should be welcomed to hunt. After his displeasure dissipated, Davi found gardening to be more his forte. The youngster had an innate green thumb and our section of the garden became the envy of others. Davi also confided in me that he really enjoyed Tohiti's company. The way he talked about her and the look in his eyes led me to believe that he might not be as gay as he and Toxaris believed.

That supposition was proven true when I caught the two of them making out at the pool. I spied them kissing, which was innocent enough, but the way Davi played with Tohiti's firm, young breast was a different story. It was not the touch of innocuous exploration, but intentional pressure on Tohiti's breasts to make her moan and press her body against Davi. It was easy to see the boy was aroused but did not yet wear a thong or tie his foreskin to his waist string. The little bugger was well endowed for his age and it was his turn to squirm and moan when Tohiti took his member in hand. I felt guilty watching them get it on but did not slink off. If Davi had reached his sexual maturity proven by his cumming, then it was time for him to leave the fields and hunt. I needed to know as other villagers had remarked numerous times that Davi was not pulling his weight as a male. So, I watched Tohiti jerk that cock for all she was worth. When Davi cried out as his climax took hold of him, cum shot from his cock. Even in the dim light I could tell there was not a lot ejected, but he had cum and that meant he was ready to take his rightful place. It was obvious the boy looked younger than his peers, but he was mature enough to join the hunt. Although it was embarrassing, I would later relate what I had seen the next time someone questioned why Davi wanted to join the hunt.

While that revelation appeased the men, unfortunately it amped up the verbal and physical torment Davi experienced from the male teenagers and older children. It was bad enough that he was an outsider, Davi also suffered because of his gardening skills and innate beauty. That comeliness attracted the more aggressive adolescents who, on occasion, forcefully fucked Davi when he did not take care to be in the company of our little family. Although I was incredibly angry each time it happened, there was nothing I could do. The acceptable custom was for male adolescents to fuck their peers until they reached manhood. Normally that happened when two teens agreed, but rape also occurred when a weaker adolescent was overpowered by a stronger opponent. Since Davi was slight in stature, less muscular, and not as skilled in fighting, he had little chance of preventing being accosted and forcibly taken. Toxaris did intervene several times but Davi suffered more by being beaten by the assailants. Davi finally persuaded his brother not to fight on Davi's behalf. Reluctantly, Toxaris confided to me that he felt immense guilt not protecting his brother. I reminded Toxaris that my intervention on Shori's behalf had had the same result. As hard as it was to stand by, our interference only exacerbated the situation. Davi would have to stand up for himself. As time went on the attacks intensified and Davi finally succumbed to the inevitable. He became an unwilling, but compliant, recipient of the tribe's virile adolescents. The best I could do was to talk with both Toxaris and Davi and get them to realize that Davi's suffering would end sooner rather than later once he learned to fight and bested his opponents.

During a heart-to-heart conversation after he had suffered yet another sexual attack, Davi admitted that he was not attracted to boys at all despite what he had believed previously. I thought part of it was because of the fucking he endured, but also knew that he was attracted sexually to Tohiti and she to him. I had caught the two of them kissing and fondling each other on numerous occasions. It was obvious all the innocent exploration of each other's bodies had been replaced by normal healthy touching. Davi had even fucked Tohiti although he was still not shooting bullets. Davi felt miserable now, but in time I believed that he would have the acceptance of the tribe much more than Toxaris. My lover had no intention of turning straight and I knew that his sexuality would make life difficult for him once I left. I envisioned Davi growing up, claiming Tohiti as his wife, and being a respected member of his adopted tribe.

After our talk, I resolved to train Davi in some self-defense skills. He might not be able to overcome the strongest and oldest adolescents, but he did not need to succumb to the younger ones if he could stand on his own. Toxaris convinced Lauren to tutor Davi in Tae Kwan Do. Using that skill, Davi was able to fend off some of the adolescents, but it would take age and bulk before he could defend himself fully. Shori and Toxaris helped me teach Davi how to better defend himself in other ways. My lover and friend pantomimed fighting each other with Davi observing and me critiquing their techniques. They had infinite patience with Davi who was slow to learn. In time, Davi gained the skills he needed to ward off some of the teens. Life improved for him after that. With their success in teaching Davi how to defend himself, Shori and Toxaris took on the task of teaching Davi how to hunt.

Davi was overwhelmed with emotion when his brother presented him with a blowgun and arrows at the conclusion of their instruction. Davi had acquitted himself well using Shori's or Toxaris' weapons and the three of us agreed Davi was ready for his own. I was so proud of my three guys. Davi was still too young to be considered to join the hunt, but by the time Sinaa allowed him to accompany the men, I had no concern that Davi would be an equal among the men if not be more proficient than some.

My young "son" and Shori often wandered off into the jungle with Davi's blowgun to practice after work was done for the day and before night fell. At first, I worried like an old woman, but Shori convinced me that Davi was responsible and skilled enough to be allowed to go. Since Shori accompanied him, I was confident that Davi would not be attacked or raped. Not one of the adolescents would attempt taking Davi sexually against his will with Shori in attendance. After a few forays without incident, I worried less. I should have been more protective as it turned out.

Davi went off after eating the dinner meal with my permission to practice his hunting. He did not tell me that Shori could not accompany him. None of our family saw Peacock leave the Shabono heading in Davi's direction. Had we known Peacock was stalking Davi we would have given the teen a beating he would never forget, but none of my little family knew until Davi ran back to the village screaming for help. At first, I was frightened something had happened to him. When we met halfway, I saw that Davi was not injured and immediate relief flooded through me. Toxaris took control and asked Davi what had happened.

Davi had to pause to catch his breath and a crowd gathered around us. When he could speak, he urged us to hurry back into the jungle to help Peacock. Others began shouting asking what had happened to Peacock, but I told Davi to follow behind me as I pushed our way outside the circle of natives. Davi took off on a run with me and some villagers following close behind. We did not have that far to run before we came upon Peacock lying face down on the ground.

Sinaa, as the senior member of the group, ordered everyone back. When there was room, Sinaa turned Peacock over and we all saw the dart embedded in his shoulder. The poison-dipped dart had done its job and Peacock was deader than a doornail. At this point, Davi began to wail. Toxaris grabbed his brother and shook him hard to end the keening. Tears flowed from Davi's eyes as he haltingly told the group what had happened.

Unknown to Davi, Peacock had followed and had remained hidden from Davi's sight. Unsaid, but understood by all was the fact that Peacock obviously intended on forcing himself on Davi. When Peacock finally decided the place was right, he had sprung from the jungle with a whoop. Davi had been facing the other way and on hearing what he thought was a war cry had spun around. The dart had already left the blowgun before Davi recognized Peacock. Tears flowed as Davi said the look on Peacock's face would haunt him forever as Peacock felt the dart pierce his skin. Davi swore he had run back to the village as soon as Peacock fell to the ground, but I had a niggling feeling that was not true. I resolved to speak with Davi later in private.

When Davi was done explaining what happened, Sinaa took the boy by the upper arm. We followed the pair back to the village and into the presence of Rerebawa. Davi recounted the story to the chief and I was happy there were no discrepancies. The chief mulled over what, if anything, should be done to punish the boy. Shori left my side and whispered in his father's ear. Rerebawa's eyes went wide and he pulled Shori away from the assembled group to talk privately. When they returned, Rerebawa decreed Peacock's death was an accident and Davi would not be punished. However, Davi would not be allowed to hunt for the foreseeable future.

Back in the Shabono, Davi complained bitterly that it was not fair he was prohibited from hunting. After all, it was Peacock's fault for following Davi and springing out of the foliage, he claimed. I listened patiently and then questioned Davi. I was certain that Davi's account was false. What I had seen that apparently no one else had was that Peacock's foreskin had not been tied to his waist. His cock hung loose meaning he had intended on using it. I was not surprised when Davi finally admitted that he knew Peacock was stalking him. He also knew that Peacock intended to rape him. Peacock had not sprung from the jungle but had walked right up to Davi with his hard cock pointing the way. Davi had reacted not by laying down his weapon and fighting but decided to end Peacock's assaults once and for all. In response to my surprised reaction that there were many assaults by Peacock, tears flowed again on Davi's cheeks as he told me that Peacock raped Davi every chance he could.

Davi fought Peacock each time, but the older, bigger assailant always ended the contest with his cock inside Davi. I asked why Davi had never told me or Toxaris and instantly regretted my stupid question. We had both told Davi he had to fight his own battles as our interference always ended badly for the boy. I could not condone Davi murdering Peacock but did understand why he had resorted to violence. David did not argue when I told him that he could never again kill an assailant. The tribe was convinced it had been an accident, but the next time would probably result in Davi's own demise.

Confrontation

It was more than a month after Peacock's death that was the turning point for our stay in the village. Al had gotten wind that Trevor was secretly talking with some of the women to explain why Sinaa's wives were happy and contented. This was in direct contravention of Rerebawa's orders and Al's own admonishments. Al knew that if he were hearing of these clandestine conversations that it would not be too long before the chief heard of them, too. Al knew he had to do something, but before he corralled Trevor, Lauren was embroiled in an altercation with Sopai.

Sopai, Gary's pal, had beaten his oldest wife for a minor infraction. The club he used had caused the woman to lose consciousness. Despite the incantations and remedies Krihisiwa applied and Al's ministrations, the woman did not regain sensibility. We did not interfere when the woman was taken into the jungle to die. The shaman had declared that she was inhabited by the Hurburibi for not subjecting herself to Sopai's will. The woman had fallen into a coma and we had no remedies. Al would have tried to intervene, but the balance between tribe and our group was always delicate.

Sopai took no time to mourn but decided his wife's demise was a sign that he should have a replacement. We knew he had had an unhealthy interest in Lauren from what Gary had told us but were unprepared when Sopai set his sights on getting Lauren to be his new bride. Keeping with his cultural upbringing, Sopai intercepted Lauren as she was returning from a foraging trek. Sopai confronted Lauren brandishing a club. Our gal fought valiantly but was knocked unconscious. Sopai draped her over his shoulders and returned triumphantly to the village. Our group heard of the abduction when we returned with the hunters.

We rushed to Sopai's section of the Shabono and found Lauren completely naked and trussed like a pig on the dirt floor. She was gagged and her eyes were wide with fear and shame. From the bruises on her thighs and genital area, it did not take any imagination to know that she had been raped by Sopai. As for the culprit, he faced us brandishing a spear in one hand and the club in the other. Rerebawa and Krihisiwa followed close behind us. The chief elbowed his way past our group and stood between us and Sopai.

Speaking rapidly to Sopai, Rerebawa learned of the abduction and Sopai's claim on Lauren. The native pointed to Lauren's vagina and told the chief he had claimed the woman as his wife. Unsaid, but understood, was the fact that anyone who contested his claim would have to fight Sopai. To emphasize his point, Sopai stood over Lauren who tried to squirm away, but was rewarded with a lightning-fast blow to her head. The poor girl went out like a light.

As Sopai swung back to face us, Al laid a linebacker's block to the man. Sopai, being off-balance, crashed to the floor just missing Lauren. As Al attempted to subdue Sopai, the native shot his leg out and up just as Al rushed his adversary. As luck would have it, Sopai's foot connected with Al's groin dropping the man. Our professor was unable to stop Sopai from jumping up. Quick as lightning, Sopai grabbed his spear which had been knocked out of his grasp by Al's initial attack. I shouted as Sopai's spear pierced Al's side. Blood spurted from the stricken professor and I rushed to his side with raised hands toward Sopai to let him know that I was not attacking him.

In the melee, Gary had scooped up Lauren beneath her armpits and was dragging her away. Realizing I was not a threat, Sopai turned his attention back to the throng and saw Gary trying to rescue Lauren. With a blood-curdling scream, Sopai threw his spear which went deep into Gary's chest. Sopai was furious that his friend had interfered especially since he had shared his wives with Gary.

Gary staggered and tried to pull the spear from his chest. I yelled for him to stop knowing that the spear blocked Gary's blood and guts from spilling out. My warning was unheeded and to my horror, I watched Sopai spring at Gary and shove the spear clean through my friend. The two men looked at each other briefly before Sopai pulled the spear from Gary's body. With a look that I would remember the rest of my life, Gary fell lifeless.

Despite direct pressure on Al's wound, the blood flowed through his ripped shirt and my fingers. I yelled at one of Sopai's wife to bring me a woven mat hoping to use that to stem the blood. She stood there ignoring my pleas all the while keeping her eyes on Sopai. I knew instantly that there would be no help from any of the villagers. Davi ran towards our living area but was prevented by one of the men from returning with one of my shirts. Sopai had made his claim and won the battle to keep Lauren as his wife. None of the natives were interested in challenging Sopai to win Lauren as the prize. Even Shori stood stoically by his father's side. My young friend had his own position in the tribe to consider and while I was angry at the time, I did understand in time.

On the other hand, my anger and hatred towards Trevor grew. The man I had loved and given so much to, was no help at all. He stood by Sinaa and made no effort to help Al or Lauren. With no help from the villagers and our own crew either dead, dying, bound or purposely uninvolved, I tried valiantly to save the professor. I watched as the light of life faded from Al's eyes and the professor died quietly. I bowed my head for just a brief minute and then sprang up to confront Trevor.

Sinaa leaped between Trevor and me and I had to vent my anger over his shoulder. Trevor calmly stood taking my verbal abuse. When I ran out of epitaphs and breath, he nudged Sinaa aside and took my upper arms in his hands. Looking directly in my eyes, Trevor explained that he no longer felt himself a part of our now decimated group. He had chosen Sinaa and the tribe to live with and had no intention of returning to the States. I was struck silent by his admission. Here was the man I had once loved deeply with a world of opportunity ahead of him if he returned to the U.S. and he had gone native. When I tried to argue with him about the folly of his choice, he asked that I respect his wishes. I scoffed when he suggested that I choose the Yanomami over my family and friends. Shaking my head in disbelief, I asked Trevor to release me. No one attempted to stop me as I left the Shabono for the jungle to plan my next move.

There was nothing I could do for Lauren at that time. I was woefully inadequate to challenge Sopai and knew that none of the villagers would aid me. Even the rapport I had with Krihisiwa was of no use. Shori was unable to help me. He knew I would eventually leave, and he had to ensure his place as heir apparent. Toxaris also knew he could not interfere and Davi would be of no help. I had to come up with a plan to free Lauren and get both of us away from the tribe in one piece.

Flight

That night I crept to Sopai's section of the Shabono. It was long after midnight and the village was blissfully unaware that I intended to talk to Lauren about my escape plan. She was still bound and gagged, but at least was now tied to one of the Shabono supports rather than tied up like a pig. Although she could not shout out with the gag in her mouth, I still gently placed my palm against her mouth to prevent any noise. She struggled briefly until I whispered in her ear that it was me, not Sopai.

The man had treated her brutally. I could tell by the raw skin around the bindings he had fashioned at her arms, hands, chest, and legs. I could not imagine the pain she must have been feeling. There was blood caked on her inner thighs and I knew she had been raped repeatedly. Despite the pain and humiliation, Lauren listened intently to my plan and shook her head affirmatively when I asked if she thought we had a chance. In her predicament, I would have agreed to anything to escape, even if the attempt were unsuccessful. Unlike Trevor, Lauren wanted to return to civilization and the sooner, the better.

When I returned to my hammock, I almost cried out when I felt a hand on my arm. In the flickering light of the cooking fire I saw Shori standing beside me. He gestured for me to get up and follow him out of the Shabono. I trusted Shori had no intention of harming me or putting me in danger, so I crept out and we headed to the pool where we had enjoyed each other's company swimming and talking. The moonlight lit the pool's surface and I could clearly make out Shori's face when he asked me to sit.

He explained that he had seen me sneak out and go to Lauren. He was not able to get close enough to hear what I had said to Lauren, but he was able to glean that it was about escaping. When I did not deny it, he shook his head sadly. He was sure that Lauren and I would perish in the attempt unless he helped. I told him that I thought we had a good chance of escaping given the things he had taught me without involving him. He smiled at that but was unswayed in his opinion that the only solution was to help me. I could not in good conscience ask him to endanger himself and I argued that he would not be able to return to the village after helping us. My arguments fell on deaf ears. Shori was determined to see us safely away from the tribe. As for his return, he had his own plan for that.

I listened as he explained he would tell his father and the tribe that he had seen us sneaking away from the village. He would say that he tailed us to see where we would rest for the night. Then he would run back to the village to lead the tribesmen to us. I pointed out it would take us more than one day of traveling to put enough distance between us and the village. Shori just shrugged his shoulders and told me not to worry about him. That was easy to say, but I decided that Lauren and I would escape without Shori's aid. I hated to leave Toxaris behind, but it could not be helped. He had been accepted into the tribe and would be better off in the long run. I knew that I could not have him return with me to the States and he would not be happy living in civilized society.

Before Shori and I returned to the Shabono, he begged me to have sex. I was sorely tempted but he was only thirteen and I was not a pervert. I liked sex as much as any healthy male did, but even here in the jungle, there were some civilized taboos that I could not shake. I settled the boy's insistent looks with a less-than-chaste kiss. His hard cock rubbed against my thigh and my resolve wavered. Shori wanted me and my own cock hardened as we kissed. I felt Shori's hand rub the thong I wore. My cock throbbed with desire, but when Shori tried to undo the thong I stepped back and broke our kiss. His sad moan tugged at my heart, but it was wrong for me to take advantage of the boy. Reluctantly we parted, and stealthily snuck back to the Shabono.

I did not sleep well the rest of the night. I was worried about Lauren and our planned escape. In the morning, I went about my business as usual. There were some natives who treated me with disdain as I was now viewed again as an outsider, but the majority simply accepted the fact that I was not like my dead companions. Success in escaping depended on maintaining a non-threatening demeanor and actions. I knew that Lauren and I had to escape that night. Lauren would not willingly allow Sopai to continue fucking her, and I was certain she would not have the strength to escape if she were subjected to his brutality very long. She was safe and unmolested during the day with Sopai out with the hunting party. I just prayed that when he returned, Sopai would be too tired to have a go at Lauren. I guess my prayers were answered as Sopai did not attempt to fuck Lauren that night before he turned in for the night.

All day I had been planning our escape and surreptitiously collecting water and food. Since using our backpacks would have been too obvious, I ascertained that we would only be able to carry our canteens and only enough food we were able to carry in our hands. The thought of trekking through the jungle for days without ample supplies would have frightened me in the past. With my new skills and knowledge of how the natives found water and food, I was certain we would survive. There were no guarantees, but removing ourselves from the village was the only sane course of action. There was no certainty the men would continue to accept me, and Lauren would never submit willingly to Sopai.

I stayed awake until the entire village had fallen asleep. Rising from my hammock, I crept to Shori. His eyes were closed, and his breathing was steady. I was sure he was asleep and would not impede my escape. Employing every stealth skill I had been taught, I collected my blowgun, darts, a machete, the two canteens, water purification tablets, and stole Shori's machete I had given him. I momentarily felt bad I was taking the boy's prized possession, but all the other machetes had been given to the men who I dared not wake. With the tools and water, I left the Shabono and located the food I had cached away. With care not to make any noise, I divided the implements, food and water into two piles. I did not want to think what might happen if Lauren was unable to carry her share. I would just have to deal with that situation once I had her untied and back at the cache.

My heart leapt into my throat when Sopai suddenly turned over in his hammock. I had entered the Shabono to get Lauren without any problem. As Sopai turned, I stood still as a statue and bit my tongue to prevent crying out. Until then, I had not been scared. I was so intent on the escape plan that I had not given any thought to what might happen to me if we were caught. I was certain that Lauren would be beaten badly, but Sopai would have kept her alive for his satisfaction. I, on the other hand, most likely would end up dead for attempting to steal away Sopai's "wife". The tribe would have followed custom and brought me back to the village alive. After all, punishment for stealing a man's wife was to fight the injured party. I knew that fighting Sopai would end in my demise. I simply was not strong enough or trained well to best Sopai.

After what seemed an eternity, Sopai settled down. He had Lauren tied both to a pole and his own wrist. I needed to release the binding from Sopai's wrist without awakening the man. There was plenty of slack in the plaited vine between Sopai and Lauren, so all I had to do was untie Lauren's binding and retie the vine to the pole. It was a simple maneuver and with Sopai still sleeping like a baby, I made quick work of freeing Lauren. The first thing she did was to pull on one of the wives' woven skirts. Her own clothes had long vanished, so she was unable to cover her breasts. She rose unsteadily and leaned on me as we exited the Shabono. With the cooler air and the prospect of escape, Lauren seemed to gain energy and stamina as we moved to the cache.

She was able to carry her share of the cache and we moved silently, but quickly, away from the village. There was no way to run with the jungle being so dark, but we used one of the beaten paths the village used to move through the dense foliage. I had no idea how far the path would go as it was one rarely used, but I was certain it went in the right direction to lead us to the Amazon. How many days it would take to cover the distance from the village to the river was beyond my knowledge, but if we could stay ahead of Sopai and the villagers the first day or so, I was confident Lauren and I would find the Amazon.

We had gone perhaps a mile when Shori quietly called out and appeared behind us. He was standing in a pool of moonlight that shone through a break in the overhead canopy. His blowgun and dart bag were slung over his left shoulder. On his right shoulder, he had slung a heavy-laden bag that would prove to be food. Both his hands were held outstretched to his sides; the sign that he meant no harm. At the moment I caught sight of the boy, warring thoughts crowded my head. On the one hand, I was afraid for him if and when he returned to the village. On the other, I knew Lauren and my odds of survival had increased exponentially with Shori's help.

When I reached Shori, he brought his arms around me and raised his lips to mine. I saw no harm in giving the boy an ardent kiss. Instantly, I felt my cock lengthen so I broke the kiss and stepped back to separate us. Lauren watched the whole brief episode and made no comment. Whether or not she thought my action as perverse, I would not know as she never mentioned that kiss or the others that occurred during our escape.

After that greeting, I made a feeble attempt to persuade Shori to return to the village before he was missed. The boy told me to fuck myself in his language and side-stepped me to stride further down the path. Lauren and I had no option other than to follow. With eyes more accustomed to the dark jungle than mine, Shori moved quickly along the path always ensuring that Lauren and I were close behind. From the heavy breathing coming from Lauren, I knew the pace was too hard on her and I bade Shori to slow a bit. He turned to argue but heard Lauren's distress. Both Shori and I knew that the beatings and rapes she had endured had sapped more of her strength than she was willing to admit, but she needed us to slow down. After that, we moved at a steady, but less rushed pace.

As the sun began to filter through the canopy, Lauren seemed to gather more energy from the light, and we moved swiftly down the path. I did notice that the path was less worn, and the jungle growth was encroaching on the sides. I knew we would soon be hacking our way through the foliage and by mid-morning, I was striking the vegetation with the machete Shori had stolen. During our march, Shori had made it plain that he wanted his machete I had given him. There was no difference between the two machetes, but obviously Shori attached more importance to the machete I had given him. It made me feel bad that I had stolen it from him, but Shori did not make a big deal of it. He simply held out his hand and asked for his machete.

We finally stopped when the sun was directly above to rest and eat some of our meager supplies. There was not enough time to hunt or gather food, so we dipped into the food we carried. With Shori's presence, I knew we would not starve, especially when Shori said that he had no intention of returning to his village. His declaration pretty much guaranteed Lauren and I would survive the trek to the Amazon, but what of Shori's fate. No matter how I argued with him that he could not return to the States with me and he would be safer back in his village than wandering around as a homeless native along the Amazon, the boy refused to listen. I thought if Shori returned to the village then his story about following us to learn where we went would protect him. When I finished ranting at him, Shori calmly told me that his betrayal in assisting us would result in the tribe turning against him. Perhaps if he had returned earlier that day, he could have talked his way out of the inevitable. Too much time had passed for that possibility. Even his father would not be able to dissuade the tribe, and especially Sopai, from physically punishing Shori. Sopai would not be satisfied with anything less than Shori's death. Shori had participated in stealing Sopai's wife and that meant a fight to the death. Shori did not need to say that such a fight would not go well for him.

Lauren had gone into the jungle to relieve herself during the argument. She was just emerging from the foliage when she screamed. Her hand flew to the dart embedded in her exposed left breast. She yanked it out but the three of us knew that the poison was already making its way into her bloodstream. I started to run towards her, but she yelled for me to run away. There was nothing I could do for her and I darted back to the pile of gear we had been carrying. As I scooped up the canteens and the bag of food Shori had brought, I looked back to see Lauren braced against a tree with a blowgun to her mouth. I suspected that her aim was off as the poison took over, but she was blocking for our retreat. With a shout between shooting darts at our attackers, Lauren bade Shori and I to run.

I still hesitated, but Shori yanked on my arm and we took off. Behind us we heard Lauren scream one more time. Her attackers had obviously finished her off which prompted us to crash through the foliage. Shori took much of the brunt of slashing leaves and bone numbing branches being in the lead. We knew it was only a matter of time before our pursuers would catch up. They had the advantage of following our crude trail. Over his shoulder, Shori told me to continue running along the path. The boy darted into the foliage on the side of the trail. He did not have to tell me he planned to ambush our foes. I knew that he would be outnumbered, but also believed the element of surprise might give him a chance to succeed. I kept running until the trail petered out and I faced a wall of foliage.

There was no sense in hacking my way through the dense under-growth, so I turned and raised my blowgun to my mouth. I was not as skilled as Shori, but if I was going to die, I was going to do my best to take as many of our attackers as possible. Then, to my surprise, I spied Shori running towards me. He flung himself at me giving me a bear hug that took away my breath. I clung to my savior and when Shori raised his face to me, I planted a less than chaste kiss on his lips. After we broke our kiss and embrace, Shori explained that he had waited until the two men had passed him. Emerging from his hiding spot, two quick puffs through his blowgun sent darts at the men. One had wheeled around and tried to fire a dart at Shori, but the man's aim was off just enough for Shori to sidestep the dart. The second man was dying, but Shori was able to get him to say that the two men were the only search party on that trail the man knew of. With so many trails out of the village, the men had split up to cover them all.

I took the lead after Shori had rested a bit. It was unlikely that we would be followed given what the man had said. If there were more men coming behind us, they would be far behind and they would find Lauren and their dead companions. That would give them pause and Shori believed they would give up the hunt. It was unlikely the villagers would want to chance losing any more warriors over a dead white woman who had been nothing but trouble. As for me, they would most likely count me out as dead. They had no inkling that Shori had joined Lauren and me at least up to that point in time. The dying man had been shocked to learn it was Shori who had dealt him his death blow. When the village finally surmised that Shori was missing, Rerebawa would be heart-broken, but it was unlikely any of the other men would shed any tears. It was never any secret that any of the dominant males would grab the chance to be chief if Rerebawa or Shori were killed. Chief among those men would be Sinaa and Sopai.

My worry was for Shori. During the monotonous task of slashing the jungle growth, I had plenty of time to think. Shori had made his choice between remaining with me and returning to his village. I was now responsible for the boy. If we survived and got back to civilization, Shori would be unable to come with me to the States. He had no identification to travel. Even if my family or I could adopt him, there would be a significant time period before the adoption and necessary documentation could be accomplished. What would Shori do or where would he live during that time. I knew he would not survive in a foster home placement and I would never place him in government care. As for leaving him alone in the jungle or in some village, the former was out of the question. Shori had skill and the smarts to survive for a time, but he needed companions to help garden and hunt for the long run. The latter had its own problems. Females were always welcome in the villages, but a male was deemed a threat in almost all cases. Shori would have to prove his manhood to be accepted and I could not in good conscious, put him in that position at his age. The boy was a crack shot with the blowgun, but in hand-to-hand combat, he would be at a distinct disadvantage. He had held his own in his own tribe, but a lot of that had to do with the men showing some deference for the heir apparent. A new village would not give him that slack. Then there was the issue of Shori being gay.

I had abstained and laid down the law with Shori that he and I were never going to have sex. That did not stop him from trying. For a time, I had believed Shori was simply following custom and having homosexual sex like his peers until he found a wife. Over time living in the village, I wondered that Shori was not just getting his rocks off with Toxaris, they were in fact lovers. Toxaris eventually admitted that fact shortly before all hell broke loose with Lauren. Both of my guys knew they could never be a couple and would have to take wives, but Toxaris told me that they had pledged their hearts to each other. Life would be difficult for them, but with each other and the right wives, they would survive. If the village did not accept them, they planned to leave and create a new village that would accept adult homosexuality. I thought they were two star-struck lovers ignoring reality, but if any two guys could accomplish that dream, it was most likely Toxaris and Shori.

There seemed to be no solution to the present situation and eventually I gave up thinking about the future. I was driving myself crazy thinking about the future. The task of surviving took precedence.

The Amazon

It took Shori and me over two weeks of hard work hacking the jungle and making our way south. Due to the jungle growth and our decision to follow animal trails when they presented themselves to us, our route meandered. If a trail led too far away from south, we turned into the jungle and continued using the machetes. If my compass read a southerly direction, I did not much care if we were traveling due south. With significantly less gear to carry than my trek into the jungle, we made decent time for the distance traveled. I always took over the lead when the sun was directly overhead until we stopped for the night. Shori needed to be rested to forage and hunt when we made camp. Food was not a problem, but good water was an issue. Rain happened sporadically which was unusual. Every night Shori created catch basins from large leaves to capture meager amounts of dew. When a stream or pool appeared, we drank our fill and filled the canteens. The filters had long outgrown their effectiveness and I tried not to think what contaminants were in the water. Dying of thirst was not an option so I closed my eyes and drank. In the beginning, I suffered mightily with diarrhea and vomiting, but my system finally adjusted and allowed me to keep the liquid down. I did not dwell on what lasting effects might occur inside me.

When the mighty Amazon finally appeared, it was not all that majestic being so far from its mouth. Nevertheless, it was a welcome sight and neither Shori nor I could resist throwing down our meager gear, stripping to our birthday suits, and jumping into the river. Washing away the accumulated sweat and grime from our bodies was heavenly. We cavorted like two children, splashing and dunking each other. Shori grabbed me from behind, pinned my arms, wrapped his legs around my waist, and brought his chest and hard cock to my back. He began to rut, rubbing his rod against my skin. My cock rose and grew hard as Shori pecked kisses on my neck. I let my morals flow down the river and briefly reminded myself that the age of majority in brazil was fourteen. I allowed him to rub against my back until he came with a shout. Although we were partially submerged, I still felt the hot spent cum create a silky feeling on my skin. As he pulsed, I let myself go and strands of cum shot from my own rod and swirled in the slow-moving water in front of me. My resolve not to have sex with the teenager had been shattered, but under the circumstances I was not going to deny Shori this one time. After all, I convinced myself that we really had not had sex. It was simply a need released after such a long time. I felt guilty even so once we were spent.

Tired from our trek, swim, and getting off, we climbed out of the water and stretched out on the sunny bank. Neither of us wanted to get back into our soiled thongs so we laid side-by-side naked as jaybirds. Fatigue took over and I fell asleep until my sleep-deprived mind recognized that my cock was enveloped in a warm, wet mouth. When I sat up abruptly and pushed Shori's shoulders, the boy looked up at me with lust in his eyes. Our earlier masturbating was one thing. Allowing Shori to suck my dick was another matter. In a stern voice I told my companion that he was not to suck me ever again. He argued and then stomped off into the jungle when I refused to reconsider.

While he sulked just beyond the edge of the jungle, I walked a little way down the river to search for suitable materials to make two new thongs. I made sure that I did not go any further than the boy could see me. I did not want him to think I was abandoning him just because he was a randy teenager. He was simply following his cultural upbringing and God-given sexuality. He had enough challenges in front of him as a gay, homeless youth. A solution to his predicament still alluded me, but I was not going to compound the situation by allowing myself to have sex with him. I cursed myself for allowing Shori to hump me in the river. I could not take that back, but I could refrain from any sexual contact until I flew home.

I fashioned the two thongs and by the time I was done, Shori was squatting by my side. He thanked me when I handed him his thong and I was certain that any bad feelings had dissipated. He had obviously been thinking about our situation while he sulked and waited. I hoped that he would cease any attempts to get me to have sex with him. I hated being stern with him and seeing his angry reaction.

As he tied his thong, he explained that we would make much better progress if we used the river instead of trekking along its banks. I could not agree more, but I pointed out that we did not have a boat. Shori smiled and said that we would just have to build one. I am sure my face betrayed what I thought of that idea. I could not imagine how we would be able to build a craft large enough for two of us. Shori was not deterred by my negativity. Using a pointed stick, he drew in the river bank the craft he expected us to build.

It was a crude raft not much larger than my frame. I pointed out that the raft would not accommodate both of us. Shori explained that only one of us would ride the raft at a time. The other would hold on and either kick to propel the craft or be carried by the current. It would mean long stretches being in the water for each of us, but the alternative of walking was much less desirable. His idea made sense, but my critical mind saw one major obstacle. "Where are we going to find the materials to build even a small raft?", I asked. Shori laughed and told me to have faith he knew how to build a raft. He saw incredulity on my face and further explained that his tribe had once lived near a river and made rafts all the time.

Using the same skills we had employed in the village to weave vines into rope, we lashed layers of branches into a crude raft. It took two days to construct the craft and it did not take any prizes in boatbuilding. However, when I tested it, the raft held together and got me basically out of the water. Shori, being smaller and lighter, was high and dry. At the end of that second day we celebrated with a feast of monkey, fish, wild bananas, and papaya.

The following day we set off on the river as the sun rose. Every hour or so, we switched places. At midday, we went ashore to dry off in the sun. I did not want either of us to get sores from being in the water too much. Shori once again tried to entice me to have sex, but I firmly told him that it was not going to happen. He again stomped off likely believing I would eventually give up my obstinance. I could not deny the teen was physically appealing and from Toxaris I knew was an accomplished lover, but he was too young, period.

About an hour after returning to the river, I noticed that the current was picking up. I did not have to kick as much for the raft with Shori aboard to move through the water. Eventually, we heard rushing water grow louder. Without knowing what was ahead, I kicked the raft to the riverbank and Shori helped pull it out of the water so we would not lose it.

The two of us made our way along the riverbank with the sound of water becoming a roar. Suddenly, we found ourselves at the edge of a promontory. We stood in silence due to the deafening sound of the water cascading through a narrow channel in the rock walls. I surmised that our raft and bodies would be battered making a trip through the rapids. We would have to either abandon our raft and hopefully build another beyond this point or take our chances riding the rapids. I gestured to Shori to return to the raft so we could talk. As we made our way back, Shori shouted and pointed to our raft which was gaining speed. The raft had obviously not been pulled high enough out of the river and was now making its way towards the rapids. Quickly, Shori told me to go back and grab our belongings while he ran alongside the raft. My feet flew first to collect our things and then to catch up with Shori. Just in time I grabbed Shori's arm before he made the attempt to leap into the water. When he realized the raft was now too far away, the boy ran back to the promontory with me close behind. We arrived just in time to see our raft tumble through the rough waters, but miraculously survive. We realized that we had to get downriver fast in order to catch the raft and continue our voyage.

Ignoring scrapes and cuts, we bulled our way through the foliage and over the rocky shore until we were beyond the channel. We had lost sight of our raft in our pursuit, but when we emerged in the area of calmer waters, there was the errant craft stuck on a fallen tree. Shori jumped into the water and snagged the raft before it had a chance to get away from us again. When we secured it to the base of the tree, we inspected it for damage. A few of the vine ropes had parted, but the main structure was still sound. We congratulated each other on fashioning such a sturdy raft before plaiting more vines into rope. By the time we finished the repairs, dusk had settled, and we decided to make camp. Shori tied a vine rope securely to the raft and his own wrist. As he lashed himself to the raft, I had to stifle a laugh as Shori explained that no devil was going to steal our raft again.

We were off again at sunrise with faster water beneath the raft which made it easier for the person in the water. Rather than kicking to keep forward momentum, the guy behind just had to hold on and be carried along. We took turns as usual being in and out of the water. The river was not moving at breakout speed, but we both could see we were making much better headway as the jungle passed by. After a stint in the water I had traded places with Shori and decided to take a short nap.

My sleep was suddenly interrupted by a splash ahead of us and then an animal scream that caused the birds to become mute. A Peccary had jumped in the water to cross the river not knowing that a shoal of piranhas was waiting for a meal. The water frothed in red as the fish attacked and ate the pig. I was entranced by the spectacle, but Shori had the presence of mind to kick hard for the opposite shore before the raft and he floated into the massacre. Shori scrambled onto the riverbank and held the raft in place for me to dismount. When I was safe ashore, I took in hand the loose vine we used to secure the raft and pushed the raft back into the flow. When it was floating free, I followed Shori as he made a path through the foliage along the riverbank. The raft floated right over the shoal of piranhas without agitating the fish. When we figured it was safe, I had Shori get on the raft to rest and took to the water. I admit that I was scared even though I knew piranhas usually do not stray far. Luckily for us that was our only encounter with the deadly fish.

We continued to float down the river noticing it was widening and slowing. We passed one village along the way. Their reception was less than cordial. They did not bother throwing spears or shooting darts but stood on the riverbank shouting at us. One did not have to understand Arawak to know they threatened to do us harm if we landed our raft. I was the one in the water at the time and kicked hard to go past and beyond the village. The villagers had been satisfied to just shout at us threatening bodily harm, but I had seen dugout boats on shore.

We decided to continue through the night taking our chances with obstacles and wildlife as we wanted to ensure the villagers were not following. Both of us made sure that we clung to the raft without kicking letting the water itself propel our raft. We did not want to alert any alligators, caiman, or piranha. Our ploy acting like just another piece of flotsam appeared to work and we finally went ashore when the sun rose. We were exhausted from being awake all night and I admit being scared much of the time that I would become some predator's meal. Despite my exhaustion, I took the first watch and bade Shori to sleep. The youngster did not argue and was soon dead to the world. I stayed up much of the day letting my companion sleep. When Shori finally woke, he looked at the position of the sun and told me I should have wakened him earlier. I was so tired, I did not argue with him but flopped on my back, closed my eyes, and was comatose in minutes. We took turns sleeping and keeping watch for the hostile villagers through the rest of the day and the night.

Refreshed, we returned to the raft and let the current push us along. The next village greeted us with a completely different reception. Children jumped into the water to swim to the raft. Laughing, they pushed us to shore where the women immediately set upon us, though their interest was primarily on me. My initial guess was that they had never seen a white man wearing a Yanomami thong and nothing else. When one woman placed her hand on my package, my face went red as my cock rose. That created a wave of laughter from the assembled women and children. Satisfied that I was just a man and not some white devil, all but one woman drifted away. The children remained encircling us, but we had no fear.

The woman who remained asked Shori many questions. She had become impatient with me because I could not keep up with her dialect and rapidly uttered words. I chose to observe the women at work, the children who had not entered the water, and the village itself. Other than the naked children who had waylaid our raft, the rest of the villagers were dressed in western-style clothing. None of the items they wore were new and many had tears and holes. However, it was clear that these villagers had come in contact with civilization. When Shori and the woman were done talking, she led us to sit by a makeshift lean-to where she fed us some plantains and baked maize bread. Both were relished as we had not eaten either for quite a while. While we ate, Shori told me of the conversation he had had with the woman. For the most part, she was simply curious where we had come from, why a Yanomami youth was traveling with a white man, and finally why that white man was dressed in just a thong. Shori assured me that he was circumspect in his answers. There was no reason to tell the woman the entire story and we had every reason not to tell her why and how we had escaped Shori's village. The story she accepted was that Shori had volunteered to travel with the white man to get him to safety and then return to his village way to the north. He told her that I had been set upon by gold miners who stole everything and left me to die defenseless and naked in the jungle. Shori had been out hunting and came upon me. His village did not want the white man to stay, so Shori volunteered to take him down river. It was a plausible tale and satisfied the woman.

When Shori and I had eaten our fill, we thanked our hostess and bade farewell to the villagers. Once we heard from the old woman there was a town only a day away, I was anxious to be on our way. I did notice Shori was not keen on leaving, but he followed me down to the raft and made ready to push off into the river. Rather than push the raft from behind, I held onto the side and talked with the boy. I asked why he seemed reticent to leave the village. He replied that he felt comfortable among the villagers. I asked him if he wanted to return to the village. He thought about it for a few minutes and then said that he really did not want to stay there. He said he had hesitated because he was nervous thinking about entering a town. I knew his past encounters with outsiders had been fraught with danger and disease. He could not be faulted for being fearful. I did not dissuade him about the possible repercussions of going with me into town. His hesitation gave me the perfect opening to attempt to persuade him to return to the village. It was not the best situation for him since the village was poor and had little to offer, but better than dumping him in a town which I was loath to do. Shori bristled when I continued to prompt him to stay with his kind. He finally stomped off to sit on the riverbank and told me to leave him alone. When he returned, he emphatically said that he was not staying with the villagers and was continuing downriver to the town. I thought I should argue with him, but I could tell from his demeanor that he had made up his mind to continue traveling with me no matter the consequences. He was happy when I did not argue and pushed the raft out into the river. Rather than one of us riding and the other trailing behind, we both held onto the sides so we could converse.

With civilization so close, we needed to discuss what Shori would do when we arrived at the town. Unsaid, but understood, was the fact that Shori would not be able to return to his village even if he physically made the journey on his own. He had helped me escape and killed members of his tribe. The tribe would never forgive and if he were not killed outright, he would be banished which would be as deadly for the boy. So, even if I could have found a companion to accompany Shori back, that option was out of the question. I was not sure what to do with the boy. Unwisely, I suggested once again that he return to the village we just left. An emphatic no was his reply.

No successful, vibrant Yanomami village would want a fourteen-year-old male. Had he been a female, that would have been a different story. I again suggested that he return to the village we had just departed as they certainly were friendly and accommodating. Shori nixed that idea by saying the villagers were not faring very well. He had noticed the ragged clothing and general malaise of the village. The kind woman had shared her meager supply of plantains and bread, but it was obvious she would go hungry because of our gluttony. I really could not argue his point. Contact with civilization had not been kind to the tribe. They seemed to be in between a rock and a hard place. They longer were proud warriors and also not accepted as equals by the "civilized" folk.

Shori declared that he would give up the jungle and learn to be a white man. He did not like my retort he was too young to live on his own in a town likely filled with men who would not take kindly to an orphan Yanomami boy. My fierce, competent companion immediately told me he would survive without me, though I did notice his eyes seemed to say differently. There was a modicum of fear behind his bravado. He continued by saying if he could not be on his own, then obviously it would be better if he live with me. In his earnestness to promote that plan, he told me that he would willingly get fucked and fuck me better than Toxaris. Both of us being gay just added another complication for a solution on what to do with him. As for living with me, I briefly mulled that over and shamefully admit I considered it taking into account the sexual angle. However, it would mean giving up my life back in the States, seeking work illegally as I did not have a work visa, and committing to caring for Shori until he was old enough to be on his own. For my own selfish reasons, I did not want Shori to live with me. We continued to argue as the raft continued toward the town.

We were no closer to resolving the issue when Airão came into view. We had come around a bend expecting another expanse of river but found ourselves on the outskirts of the old town. Airão, I found out much later, was founded in 1667, by Portuguese Jesuits. It was not modern by any means, but the buildings, for the most part, were well-kept. Of interest to Shori when we went ashore were the trucks and automobiles that went past on a well-maintained road. Shori was fascinated and not afraid of the mechanical contraptions so I had to grab him before he ran in front of a truck. Shori was virtually ignored by the traffic and the pedestrians while I was the object of everyone's curiosity.

I had no idea what to do or where to go until we were accosted by an indignant older white woman. She told me in no uncertain terms that I should be ashamed of myself exposing my body in such a flagrant way. She completely ignored Shori since he was nothing but an uncivilized native. When she finally took a breath, I gave her a piece of my mind and a synopsis of my story why I had no clothes on and looked like something a cat dragged in. I got through to her by sheer will and when I had no breath left, she asked my forgiveness and offered to get me clothed and fed. I was ready to go with her until she told Shori to "skedaddle heathen". He, of course, did not have a clue what the woman said, but I certainly did. It took only a sentence or two telling the woman what I thought of her "Christian" attitude and sickening superiority complex for the woman to turn her back on us and walk briskly away.

Charlie

 46

As I turned back to Shori, I heard a man laughing from his seat in front of a saloon before clamping a large cigar between his lips. It was the only appropriate way to describe the establishment which looked like it had been there for more than a hundred years. Despite its age, there was relatively new paint on the window frames and doorway. The glass in the windows was rather clean and a heavenly smell made it to my nose. The man called us over, stood and shook my hand, identifying himself as Charlie, not Carlos. From his pronunciation, it was evident Charlie was not a native Brazilian. He sounded like an American with a touch of Spanish inflection. I introduced myself and Shori. Shori followed my lead of shaking hands with Charlie though he looked puzzled why. Looking into Charlie's brown eyes, I was immediately at ease and did not hesitate to take Charlie's offer for a drink and a meal inside his saloon. I had already established that I had no money simply by spreading my arms wide showing off my thong. Charlie whistled during my pirouette which was a good sign my kind was welcome. I asked if Shori would be welcome inside expecting a negative response, but Charlie laughed and said no one was ever turned away from Charlie's Cantina. He put me at ease when he draped his arm over Shori's shoulder and ushered him into the saloon.

After we entered, Charlie removed his arm from Shori's shoulder and held his nose. Although we had both been in the river water off and on, there was no doubt both of us stunk. Even though I was famished and was sure Shori was, too, I did not argue when Charlie suggested we bathe before we ate. He also explained that while he was not averse to seeing two practically naked males in his establishment, other patrons might feel differently.

Charlie and I each grabbed a bucket of hot water from the kitchen and proceeded up the stairs to his private quarters. The buckets did not fill the ornate claw and ball tub even half full, but it was enough to have a decent wash. Although the porcelain was cracked and missing in places revealing its metal body, I noticed it was clean as a whistle. When Charlie parked his butt on the chair in the room, I turned away, shucked off my thong, and sunk into the deliciously warm clean water. I had expected Charlie to excuse himself while I bathed and Shori waited his turn, but the man sat in the bathroom chatting about his life as his pungent cigar perfumed the air. Charlie explained that he had once had a wife and son. I offered my sympathies when he told me that his wife had died after being bit by a rabid bat. His son had drowned in the river not long after. The poor man had had his share of bad luck. When I had finished washing the grime off me, Charlie grabbed a towel from the shelf beside his chair and brought it to me. Held just out of my reach, I had to stand to get it thus exposing myself to this stranger. Charlie's eyes fell to my groin which thankfully remained flaccid. I had instantly liked Charlie but had no desire to have sex with him as he was not my type. He made no overtures which was a relief. If he had indicated he wanted to have sex, I would have gone through with it simply because Shori and I needed a friend right then. After I stepped out of the tub, Charlie pulled the plug to empty the tub. I decided I did not want to know where the rubber hose dumped the filthy water.

I dried myself while Charlie refilled the buckets downstairs. Charlie was bigger than my size and after a real bath, I dressed in some of his larger clothes he brought in after Shori had gotten into the tub. I did not have to explain to Shori how to bathe as he had watched me while I cleaned up. I noticed that Charlie took interest in seeing Shori in the buff as he stepped in and out of the tub, but I kept quiet. After all, Shori was a good-looking kid and Charlie had sired a son, so I did not think he had designs on the boy. His interest might be prurient, but Charlie had been more interested in me. Besides, it was important that we get Charlie's help if I was going to return to the States.

Shori was outfitted with clothing Charlie had dug out of an old trunk in his rooms above the bar also after bathing. Bathed and clothed, we followed Charlie back down to the kitchen behind the bar. Charlie got right to work frying some eggs and bread. When he placed the meal in front of me, I dug right in. Shori was timid never having had cooked eggs, but then wolfed down the food when he found it appetizing. As we ate, we heard men entering the bar and Charlie left us to tend his customers. We watched as the man moved quickly back and forth between the bar and the kitchen. As Charlie laid a thick steak on the grill, I asked if he had any help. Charlie said that while he survived on the business proceeds there was never enough to hire help. His wife had been his business partner which allowed them to run the business without employees. Now that she was gone, he struggled to keep up. With a wry smile, he said that it was both good and bad that his cantina had an excellent reputation.

After our exchange, I thought a lot about Charlie's situation and Shori's future. As the noon crowd cleared out, Shori and I washed dishes while Charlie cleared and cleaned tables. When everything was squared away, Charlie offered us a beer and we dragged two more chairs out to the porch. Shori, at first, sputtered when he took a large swallow of the beer, but then developed a taste for it. I nursed mine since I did not want to impose any more than we had on Charlie's generosity. When Charlie offered another, I told him that I could not take anything more from him at which he scoffed. He let me know in no uncertain terms that whatever we needed he would try to provide. After all, it was not often that he had the opportunity to do a good turn for someone. The wink he gave me led me to believe he really meant doing a good turn for a white, gay guy.

When he said that, I gathered my courage and laid out a plan I had hatched while doing dishes. I started with the obvious fact that I had no money. When I asked Charlie if he could front me the money to travel to Manaus, he did not hesitate to agree. My plan was to call my folks from Manaus to wire money so I could make my way back to Belem. There I would be able to pick up my belongings, including my return flight ticket, at the Grand Hostel. I told Charlie that I would send money back to cover my trip from Airão to Manaus. He replied that he would be in no hurry and whenever I was settled, I could send him the money. Airão did not have a bank, but did get mail, and he would cash a check or money order when he went to Manaus whenever it suited him.

With that settled, I timidly brought up my second idea. I began by saying that it was obvious Charlie could use some help around the cantina. He did not disagree. I then suggested that Shori could help in exchange for room and board without pay if Charlie agreed Shori would attend school during the day. Shori and I had already discussed my idea over the dish washing. At first, Shori would not entertain any plan that meant parting with me, but Charlie had treated him so well, he gave in. Now he watched for Charlie's reaction with a little trepidation in his eyes. Charlie did not answer right away and said he needed some more beer. Charlie gave my proposal thought as he re-entered the bar for another round of beers. When he returned, he asked Shori to stand and then stuck out his hand. Shori clasped the man's hand and the deal was sealed.

Shori and I worked the kitchen that night with the boy being shown how to take orders and serve food out in the bar when the cleaning slowed down. When the last of the dinner things had been cleaned, I sat myself down at the bar. A beer immediately sat in front of me and Charlie whispered that he was "mighty glad" Shori was staying. His new ward was also smiling widely when he came from the kitchen, so I was happy things were working out.

The only thing that weighed on my mind was that look Charlie had when Shori had been bathing. I was convinced Charlie would refrain from molesting the boy. He did not seem the type to force himself on anyone. How he would react when Shori came on to him was another story. Shori had already tried to get me to have sex multiple times and I was sure if Charlie expressed any interest, the two of them would be in bed together. On top of that, the age of consent was fourteen so Charlie would not be in legal trouble if they were caught. Charlie was certainly a renegade and when it came right down to it, this part of "civilized" Brazil was anything but enlightened. Airão was very much like the towns in the west when they were first settled. Even after centuries of being founded, the town was a wild place. Charlie did not strike me as a guy who would put up with any shit from the townspeople. I was more concerned with Shori's fate if it was discovered he shared Charlie's bed.

When we finished our beers, Charlie showed us to his son's former room, set up a cot for Shori, and bade the two of us a good night. I spent a restless night thinking about my decision to leave Shori here at the cantina. Charlie had been a married man and sired a child, so he was more likely heterosexual. I was not so daft to believe a heterosexual could not have sex with another male and had no problems which sex Charlie bedded. Yet, the looks Charlie gave me and Shori while we bathed led me to believe he was at least bisexual if not a former closeted homo. Again, that did not faze me until it came to Shori. The boy and I had been extremely close since the day we met. I felt like he was my son especially after we had been a family with Toxaris, Davi and Tohiti. I did not want Shori to be molested by Charlie if the man had such designs and Shori was not willing. Being fourteen Shori could have sex with whomever he wanted. I was sure Charlie was aware of the age of consent so legally he could bed Shori. Whether Shori wanted it was really the question and I wondered how to bring that subject up without making a mess of things.

When Charlie knocked on the door and told us breakfast was ready, Shori jumped up, covered his naked body with the clothes Charlie had lent him, and bounded downstairs. I came down at a slower pace after washing and dressing and found Charlie and Shori laughing in between bites of the breakfast. I was shocked hearing the two of them speak in Arawak. The night before I had translated most of the conversation. In the same language I asked Charlie why he had not used Arawak the previous evening. He winked and said he wanted to find out if what I translated was giving Shori a true account. I could have been upset he did not trust me but realized that Charlie also did not know if he could trust back.

Charlie gave me a look that indicated he saw I had something on my mind but held his tongue. Shori finished his breakfast quickly and Charlie asked him to go out to the bar and sweep the floor. Even though Shori would have refused to do a woman's work in the village, he left the kitchen happily intent on fulfilling Charlie's directive. Charlie had been very succinct about what duties he expected Shori to do if he were to stay. As much as Shori wanted to be with me, he had come to realize that it was impossible for him to return to the States with me. Both Charlie and I had finally gotten through to the headstrong youth. It did not hurt that Shori had taken an instant liking to Charlie. Although he was just a teenager, Charlie treated him like a man.

Charlie asked me point blank what was on my mind. I took a deep breath and then told the man what had kept me up most of the night. Charlie heard me out and then, without any animosity, told me that he did find Shori incredibly attractive. He also admitted that he had always been gay but had no regrets he had married and had a son. As for wanting to have sex with Shori, Charlie pledged he would not force himself on the boy. What happened after that was really none of my business. I nodded my head in agreement. It was none of my business whether Charlie and Shori had sex at that point. My moral compass might not allow me to do it, but I had no right to challenge Charlie's. Charlie asked me if I had had sex with Shori, to which I replied "no", deciding that Charlie did not need to know about the river episode. The look Charlie gave me indicated he did not believe me, but the man let it go. I would have to settle with Charlie's promise to refrain but decided to talk to Shori before I left. After all, it was Shori who would most likely make the first overture.

Shori listened to my short, pointed lecture. He agreed to keep his libido in check only after I explained that having sex with Charlie might bring a heap of trouble down on both their heads. I specifically did not mention Charlie could legally fuck Shori. I did not want to give Shori any encouragement. I pressed that point by explaining if the townspeople found out Charlie was bedding Shori, Charlie most likely could weather the abuse, but Shori was a native with little rights. His life would be hell outside the protective circle of the bar. Shori had to go to school to better himself and be able to move on from the cantina if and when he wanted to. It would be difficult enough going to school. He did not need the likely abuse he would suffer from the other teens. That concept was difficult for Shori to understand. After all, homosexual activity was encouraged by the Yanomami for adolescent males. So, I rephrased by telling the boy it was the same as if he fucked one of the girls he was not married to in his village. This got through to him and he promised me that he would not proposition Charlie. I had to trust the kid and Charlie to keep their word especially since there really was not anything I could do from afar.

With my mind a bit more at ease, I left the cantina and walked to the train station. I bought my train ticket to Manaus with Charlie's money splurging for a closed carriage and assigned seat. Charlie had encouraged me to pay extra. I did not quite believe his description of what I might encounter in one of the other carriages. I would find out what he meant the next day. The three of us closed down the bar that night and sat on the porch deep in our own thoughts. Charlie rightly figured that my departure was not something to celebrate. Shori and I had only been there a short while, but Charlie could tell we had strong feelings for each other. When we turned in, Shori stripped and begged me to have sex with him. He knew this was our last night together and wanted me to remember him in that intimate way. I did not give in to him although I was sorely tempted. Instead I gave him a fierce hug and kissed him chastely. Slapping his bare ass, I told him to get to bed and behave. He crawled between the sheets and turned his back to me. I laid in my own bed listening to his quiet sobs until he finally fell asleep. I remained awake once again rehashing my decision to stay or leave.

After a quiet breakfast, I boarded the train, and made the trip to the city. The departure was extremely difficult. Although I knew there was only one sane course of action to be taken, leaving Shori behind was harder than I had imagined. The kid had really become more than a companion. He was a friend and in truth, my savior. I was confident I would not have survived the ordeal after my escape from the village without him. My departure was made even more difficult by Shori's sobbing body clinging to mine. I was thankful we had decided I should say my goodbye in the saloon. Onlookers at the station would have had quite an eyeful if Shori had kissed me on the train platform as he did in Charlie's place.

The ride from Airão to Manaus was a blur not only because of my weeping eyes, but also from my recollections of my adventure. In truth, most of my tears were about Shori. I realized that what I had thought was love between Trevor and me was nothing more than my infatuation with the man. He used my mind and body to his own ends. With Shori, all I felt was love. Although I knew my feelings for the boy were not socially acceptable, I could not stop imagining what life might have been once he reached maturity. We had shared an adventure relatively unscathed by relying on each other, but our relationship went deeper than that. The way Shori looked at me, held me tight through the nights, and constantly tried to have sex with me meant more than him being a randy teenager. Although love is a term the Yanomami find incomprehensible, what I felt for Shori was returned in equal measure. The conductor's call that Manaus was the next stop had me wipe my eyes and pull myself together.

I joined the bustle of passengers making their way from the platform to the station exit. A kindly old man gave me directions to the telephone exchange and refused the pesos I offered for his help. My parents were ecstatic and relieved getting my reverse charge phone call. They wanted to ask me more questions than I cared to answer on the phone. I finally got them to calm down enough to ask them to wire money to Banco Belem to repay Charlie and have some money in Belem until I could get my open return flight ticket changed to the next available flight to the States. I knew I would get the third degree when I got home when I still would not answer their many questions on the phone. I finally got them off the phone by telling them I had to catch my train to Belem. It was good that I had bought my ticket before leaving the station as I had barely enough time to enter the third-class coach for Belem. I immediately regretted my decision not spending more of Charlie's money on a second or even first-class ticket.

Third class was bedlam. In addition to couples with large broods of children, there were traveling salesmen toting large cases, farmers jostling their loads of produce and live animals. It was not long before I had to stick my head out of the open window in order to breathe anything close to fresh air. The laughter of the child sitting beside me had me turn towards the youngster. I laughed as he pinched his nose with his fingers. I surmised that I was not the only one who found the air unappetizing. Without thinking, I grabbed the boy, sat him on my lap, and we both stuck our heads out the window. I am sure that under different circumstances my actions would have resulted in some negative action by the parents, but they just smiled and thanked me. Their son had not been the best-behaved passenger and my action had calmed the kid down.

The train ride to Belem seemed to take ages, but I arrived in the city right on time. I got lost twice making my way from the train station to the Grand Hostel but was lucky to find helpful strangers who set me back on track. The desk clerk gave me an evil eye until I told him I was a member of the expedition that had been there months before. He asked if I was checking in and asked for my identification. I told him that all of that was in my backpack in storage. He rang the bell on the desk, and I was ecstatic when Valentim showed up. His eyes took in my disheveled appearance and ill-fitting clothing, but only nodded at the clerk when asked to fetch my backpack. When I got my wallet there were more than enough Reals in my wallet to check into a single room that night. As the clerk checked me in for the night, Valentim whispered that he was off duty at 9pm. We exchanged a glance and I knew a night of wild sex was in store for me. That thought stayed on my mind as I climbed the stairs to the room the clerk had assigned me. I had wanted Valentim to usher me to the room, but another party had shown up and Valentim was delegated to help them with their luggage. The room was a single, but still shared the communal shower down the hall. I posted the amigo sign on the door to keep out the ladies and shucked Charlie's ill-fitting clothing to shower. Remembering the last time Valentim and I had had sex had me jerking off under the spray. Luckily, there were no other guys showering as I cried out in relief. Showered and dressed in my own clothing, I headed to the consulate. Armed with a map from the desk clerk I had no problem finding my way.

As promised, my parents had wired the money I needed to the U.S. Consulate. With my passport and visa in hand, there was no problem receiving the cash. I was the last person out when the consulate closed for the night. I decided as I walked back to the hostel to see if Valentim could eat a late dinner with me. I did not relish the idea of being alone after having Shori by my side as company. Valentim would be off at 9 so I would have to wait, but the day had been a long one so a rest before would be smart. Luckily, my parents had wired more money than I had asked for, so I did not have to count pesos.

Valentim was busy herding a horde of Japanese tourists when I returned, so I plunked myself down in one of the lobby chairs and closed my eyes. I was exhausted from my long trip on the train and fell asleep until Valentim's voice broke through and asked me if I was up for a night of fun. The leer on his face when I opened my eyes got my cock rising. He was standing directly in front of me. My eyes traveled up his body and I could not help but notice the hard outline of his cock in his jeans. When our eyes locked, I could see the hunger he had and then my stomach growled loud enough for Valentim to hear it. He laughed and I suggested that perhaps dinner should be first in our plans for the night.

We returned to the same restaurant the expedition had enjoyed. Luckily, Valentim kept up a lively banter which kept my mind from remembering my fallen friends and the ordeal I had been through. Valentim did not press me about what I had been through which was a relief. He seemed attuned to keeping the conversation light and regaled me with stories of some of the guests he had suffered through in my absence.

We ate slowly enjoying each other's company before we returned to my room. He had suggested we do some clubbing, but I begged off saying I was tired. On the way to the hostel, he asked if I wanted him to come up to the room. As exhausted as I felt, I saw the look in his eyes and my cock reacted. I told him he was welcome though I warned him I might not be up for a wild night of sex. He scoffed as his hand pressed against my hard cock and his lips met mine. Two guys with their arms around each other told us to get a room. We both laughed before we entered the hostel. Valentim grabbed my arm and hustled me past the lobby desk. I caught him winking at the girl at the desk and she gave him a high five. Valentim did slow down a bit as we made our way upstairs in deference to my exhaustion. However, as I opened the door, Valentim spun me around and locked his mouth on mine. My lips opened to his tongue as he kicked the door closed. His kiss energized me. Our fingers worked at the buttons of our shirts which was much too slow for Valentim. I heard the buttons of my shirt clatter on the floor as Valentim tore it from my body. I was too far gone to care. As he pulled my shirt from my body, he guided me into the room with our mouths still locked. With a shove from the man, I landed on my back on the bed with my feet on the floor. I watched as Valentim unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans. With a heave, he yanked my pants to fall at my feet and fell to his knees. I saw his head dive towards my already dripping hard-on. Nipping at the cloth covering my cock and sucking the wet stain on my boxers, I fell back to let him enjoy my cock.

The material got wetter as his tongue slathered my rod until he growled, stood, and then ripped off my boxers. My cock sprang from being confined and I saw the ravenous look in his eyes as Valentim hurriedly tore off his own clothing. I would have liked to strip him slowly but was not given the chance. He did not need any encouragement to join me on the bed as I slithered sideways onto the bed. He straddled my legs and lowered his mouth back to mine. As we kissed, he began to slide his cock up and down along mine. The precum from our cocks lubricated the skin between us increasing Valentim's need. It was too much for me and I cried out as my cock pulsed and shot globs of cum between us.

Valentim pushed his body off mine and his knee pushed my legs apart. Taking my cum in hand, he lubed up his straining rod and dove for my hole. Pain shot through me as Valentim pushed into my unprepared hole. I relaxed my chute and felt Valentim's cock sliding inside the dark, wet tunnel. It did not take long fucking me with wild abandon. Valentim was encouraged by my moans and my own body in sync with his thrusts. With a shout, Valentim's cock pulsed and his hot cum filled my insides. When he stopped shuddering and pulled out of me, he flopped down at my side. I turned on my side, hooked my arm and leg over his body and we both fell asleep.

We fucked again in the middle of the night but much slower than the first coupling. Valentim was a gentle, considerate lover once his initial ardor had been assuaged. He had the next day off and I considered remaining in bed with him, but I needed to arrange my flight home. Valentim briefly argued that we should fuck all day, then suddenly changed his mind and said he also had things to do. We showered together once again pumping out another load that splattered our bodies, dressed, and then went our separate ways. Valentim was very secretive about his errands which piqued my interest and we agreed to meet up for lunch if I was done at the airport in time. If not, we would meet for dinner and then another night of sex. We both were intent on getting in as much sex in as possible before my flight.

I was both elated and depressed when the airline was not able to book me until the following week. The delay meant I would have more time with Valentim. It also meant that I could travel back to Airão. I wanted Charlie to have the money back with him being strapped for cash. I also wanted to check in with Shori to be sure he was happy. On the other hand, I was also anxious to get back to the States before the fall semester. Little did I know that the reception on my return would be less than cordial and I would not be returning to school to begin my doctorate.

I knew my relationship with Valentim was treading into dangerous waters. I was falling for him and the reality was that there was no future for us being together. To have to wait a week would be troubling if he were feeling the same way. Yet, I left the airport and urged the taxi driver to step on it so I would get to the restaurant before Valentim gave up hope that I was going to be there. The taxi did get me there in time and I joined Valentim at the curbside table he had chosen. The smile that greeted me was just the pick-me-up I needed and dispelled all my negative thoughts. After I sat and we ordered Caipirinhas, Valentim took my hand and placed an envelope in it. I immediately noticed the official seal of the U.S. State Department, but it did not register what was inside until I read the insert. Inside was a visa for Valentim to visit the United States beginning the next month. I looked at him with surprise written all over my face. Sheepishly, he returned my gaze and then in faltering words asked if he could visit me after he arrived. I totally went berserk and said he could absolutely visit. Our excitement was tempered by the arrival of our drinks and the look the waiter gave us.

We decided on the spot not to eat, gulped down our potent drinks, and headed back to my room. The desk clerk, a woman I had not met, watched the two of us cross the lobby and gave us a high-five. Apparently, she had no problem with Valentim's sexuality either. Our excitement ramped up as we made our way to my room, and once again, our coupling was frantic and amazing. When we woke, the sun had long gone down, and we were famished. After a leisurely shower in which we minutely explored each other's bodies yet again, we headed to another restaurant to have dinner. I was worn out from all the sex we had enjoyed, but that did not stop Valentim from giving me another spectacular blowjob before we fell asleep.

The next morning, Valentim reported to the front desk for duty and I headed to the train station. My man, as I now thought of him, was chagrined that I would be away for two days, but my resolve to repay Charlie and see Shori had not faltered. Valentim and I could endure a night apart I believed or there would not be any future for us.

The Prodigal Returns

Shori ran into my arms when he caught sight of me as I entered the cantina. His fierce hug and sudden tears immediately got my mind thinking he was unhappy he had been left behind. However, when Charlie came in from the kitchen, Shori let go of me and went to Charlie. The protective arm over Shori's shoulders, the smile both guys gave me, and the effusive greeting Charlie uttered set my mind at ease. In my short absence, the two had become close. But, from the way Charlie protectively draped his arm over Shori's shoulder, it was plain to see that there had been no sexual contact between them. I was relieved.

Charlie accepted the repayment all the while protesting that I should not have returned it so soon. I waved away his protestations and told him he had literally saved me. Coming back to repay him was the least I could do. I also confided to him that I wanted to check that Shori was happy. He laughed and said the boy was bending over backward to ensure he would not be rejected. My look at his choice of words got Charlie chuckling and he assured me that nothing had happened between them, though Shori had begged to join Charlie in his bed the very night I had left. Charlie had relented but had told Shori in no uncertain terms that sex was out of the question, at least until he was sixteen. They had shared the bed each night without any contact other than when one turned over and accidentally nudged the other. It was an innocent arrangement, at least for the time, and while likely not acceptable to some, I had no problem with it.

That night while Charlie was tending the bar and after Shori had finished cleaning up in the kitchen, the boy and I sat on the porch and talked. Shori admitted he had wanted to join Charlie in bed to have sex but understood the consequences if they were caught after Charlie had explained them. The age of consent might be fourteen but the townspeople in this rough and tumble town fell into two camps. On one side were the white, Christian folks who in their religious zeal would most likely burn the cantina down and string Charlie up if they discovered him fucking a child. The other side were the "civilized" natives who eschewed everything that reminded them of their past. Youthful homosexuality might have been acceptable in the villages, but now was objectionable as much as man-to-man sex was taboo. How the town would react in two years was anyone's guess, but I was confident that by that time, Charlie would protect Shori with his life. The little sexpot confided in me that abstaining would be exceedingly difficult. He had watched Charlie while he bathed the night I had left and told me that Charlie's tool was much bigger than mine. The kid was so excited describing what he planned to do with Charlie in two years that his loose shorts tented. When I noticed, Shori's face turned red and he excused himself to take care of his problem. There was loud laughter from the bar, and I imagined that the patrons were relishing Shori's discomfort.

Charlie left the bar to come out and ask me if I had been behaving myself and then it was my turn to turn red. I assured him that I had not encouraged the boy at all, and Charlie's cock was to blame. Then it was Charlie's turn to be embarrassed.

The three of us sat on the porch after the bar closed and let the night envelop us without speaking. The three of us were content and the only sadness we felt was the fact that in the morning I would again be on the train leaving them behind. Before we turned in, me to the son's bedroom and the two of them to Charlie's bed, I promised that I would visit again in a year or two. Tears formed in Shori's eyes, but the hug Charlie gave him reassured the boy that two years was not a lifetime. Charlie got a chuckle from Shori when he said that the two years would fly by with the amount of work Charlie planned to fill Shori's time. Shori had already learned that Charlie was more bark than bite.

Our parting after breakfast was gut-wrenching. This time I would not be returning in a few days' time and we all knew it. Even after the train left Airão, my eyes were still moist. It was not until I had transferred in Manaus and could look forward to Valentim's loving arms that I came out of my funk.

True Love

The remaining days before my flight departed went by slowly as I had little to do and Valentim was working. The evenings flew by with all the sex we enjoyed. Then, the day came when I had to return to the airport for my flight. I expected tears to flow between us, but the thought of Valentim soon taking his own flight to the U.S. was enough to bottle our emotions. I flew off knowing that no matter what else happened, Valentim would soon be with me. Through Toxaris, Shori and Valentim I had learned what true love was. Everything I had believed I had with Trevor was a sham in retrospect. It was all that really mattered, at least until I found myself back at the university.

# The End

Footnotes

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  8. (p. 17) Portraits Practice by Scyao.deviantart.com on @DeviantArt

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  18. (p. 42) Sylvester, Phil, World Nomads, 9 April, 2019 https://www.worldnomads.com/travel-safety/south-america/brazil/preparing-for-the-amazon

  19. (p. 43) http://bit.ly/2MPDVE9

  20. (p. 46) _The New Yorker_ , October 9, 2000 P. 51

  21. (p. 46) Hames, Beierle, Raymond B., John. "Culture Summary: Yanoama". New Haven, Connecticut. Retrieved 10 December 2013.

  22. (p. 47) _Eakin, Emily,_ _The New York Times Magazine, February 13, 2013._

  23. (p. 48) http://thescienceandentertainmentlab.com/stem-women-tv/

  24. (p. 51) Wallace, Scott, _National Geographic, April 4, 2014._

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  26. (p. 51) https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ash%C3%A1ninka

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  35. (p. 94) https://name-archive.fandom.com/wiki/Yanomami_names

  36. (p. 95) https://www.dhushara.com/paradoxhtm/warrior.htm

  37. (p.95) https://www.dhushara.com/paradoxhtm/warrior.htm

  38. (p.95) _Sharon W. Tiffany and Kathleen J. Adams,_ NWSA Journal, Vol. 6, No. 2 (Summer, 1994), pp. 173

  39. (p. 96) https://www.dhushara.com/paradoxhtm/warrior.htm

  40. (p.101)https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yanomami

  41. (p. 102) Good, Kenneth, with David Chanoff (1988) Into the Heart. London: The Ulverscroft Foundation.

  42. (p.111)https://amateriadotempo.blogspot.com201604a-mundividencia-dos-yanomami.html

  43. (p.118)https://www.adventure-life.com/amazon/articles/medicinal-treasures-of-the-rainforest

  44. (p.122)https://www.xapuri.infoetniageneropovosindigenasdaniel-munduruku-a-milenar-arte-de-educar-dos-indigenas

  45. (p.128)https://medium.com/social-environmental-stories/courage-beauty-truth-and-other-words-that-i-learned-with-the-yanomami-e17a2e11eb51

  46. (p.148)https://www.deviantart.com/dr-benway/art/Kennedy-Loves-Bondage-10-105840564

Other Titles by Michael Alexander

Behind Bars

Saving Adora

Tale of Two Boys: Senior Year

Tale of Two Boys: Love is Hard

Galius & Spiuso: Among the Barbarians

Galius & Spiuso: Civilization

Hott Stuff Trilogy

