tagGay MaleIn The Woods

In The Woods


Everybody has those turning points in their lives. The spot where, depending on your choices, you can do one thing or another and either way you go your life will never be the same from that point on. It's all part of growing up, I suppose.

Mine came right before my eighteenth birthday. I was not a "good" kid. I was a two bit burglar and a petty thief. I'm not proud of what I did. And I can't explain why I did the things I did. But I haven't done anything like that since, so I guess I learned my lesson. I can justify it in my mind to being a confused teenager, but... never mind.

I got caught stealing something and hauled into court. The judge was very stern and lectured me for what seemed like hours on the error of my ways. I tried to listen to what he was saying but the rebellious teen in my brain kept sighing and rolling my eyes. Then he gave me a choice. That got my attention. Either I spent three months in the county jail or six months at a conservation camp. In the jail I would get food and a place to sleep and nothing else. In the camp I would learn a trade and get my GED. In the jail I would be in a cell all of the time. At the camp I would be free and living in a dormitory. My choice.

Fortunately for me, I chose the camp.

The place wasn't too bad, apart from being a bazillion miles from anywhere in northern Idaho. I got enrolled in welding classes for half a day and was taking tutoring for my GED the other half. We were fed well three times a day and we got evenings and weekends to do whatever we wanted. The nearest town was almost fifty miles away but they ran a bus there and back every weekend. I went to town once and that was enough. There was one bowling alley and one movie theater and that was pretty much it for town. The land the camp was on was "rented" from the local indian tribe, most of whom lived in town. They didn't seem to like us much and they made it clear. I stayed away from town after that and decided to make my own amusement back at camp.

Aside from a few female staff, the camp was completely stag. And with that many young men kept away from women for that long there was bound to be some "alternative" sexual activity going on. It was inevitable. But it was frowned on and whenever someone was caught, they were quickly transferred out to another camp before there could be any trouble. Personally, I didn't care either way. I wasn't really interested in other guys and I was more than happy to take care of my own needs myself for the interim.

For my own entertainment, I learned to play the guitar and took to hiking in the woods. I had a favorite place about five miles away where there was an an old firewatch tower since abandoned by the state with a small cabin beneath it. Most of the other guys rarely ventured more than a mile or two outside of the camp so I was assured of privacy. The cabin had no electricity and when I found it the roof leaked like a sieve, but it did have an old cast iron wood stove for heat and cooking and a usable well with a hand pump inside. I had "borrowed" a few tools and some grease and managed to get the place cleaned up and patched up and the pump working for my own use.

Several of the guys had asked me where I went every weekend when I disappeared into the woods with my guitar and I gave them some bunk about "communing with nature and writing songs". That pretty much discouraged them. Once in a great while someone would insist on joining me for the weekend. I had found an alternate place several miles in the other direction. I was jealously territorial about "my" cabin and didn't want to share it with anyone. One guy was pretty sure I had a girl stashed out there somewhere and he tried to follow me on one of my hikes. I caught a glimpse of him about a mile out and instead of going ahead towards the cabin I led him on a hard trail that led up and down and around and around for about two hours. By the time I stopped he was thouroughly lost and I had to "rescue" him and lead him back to the camp. It pretty much ruined my weekend hike, but it also kept anyone else from following me out after that.

After I had been there for nine months, I got my welding certificate and had also gotten my GED. They were making noises about me moving on and going out to get a job, but I knew as I was only eighteen that nobody was going to hire me as a welder. Besides, I was enjoying myself. I got fed three times a day, I had a comfy warm place to sleep and entertainment whenever I wanted it. I saw no reason to go anywhere else unless I absolutely had to. I talked to my counselor about getting into another training program to "expand my horizons and employment opportunities." He suggested that the heavy equipment program would be a good adjunct to my welding experience so I had him sign me up. A week later I was driving a bulldozer and learning that it was rather fun cruising around in all of that big equipment. I looked forward to another nine months of taking it easy and having fun. Since I had gotten my GED, they put me in the operators class full time. Running the heavy equipment was taxing physically, but even though I was tired when I got off every evening, it was a good tired. I didn't mind.

People rotated in and out of the camp every two weeks. Those who finished and were moving on left and they sent in replacements on the big gray bus. As some of the older guys had left, they made me a Dorm Leader. It didn't really mean very much, other than the fact that I ended up with a room to myself. That was cool. Much better than the eight man bay that I had been bunking in. They gave me a little bitty room, not much bigger than a walk in closet with a set of bunk beds and two small closets for my clothes and gear. The other bunk and closet were in case we got temporarily overcrowded and they needed to stash somebody in there. For the time being, it was all mine.

Not long after that (about a month, I think) Richie came into my life. I had seen the bus coming in as I was walking back in from being out in the field. We were building a new playground for a school in town. We were almost done and I had spent the day doing finish work with the grader. In the morning a crew would come in and plant grass and our part would be over. It felt good to be doing something nice for someone else while I was learning my trade.

Don, one of the counselors, called me as I was walking back to the dorm. Standing next to him was a scared young looking kid holding a battered suitcase. "Rex," he said (that's me, by the way, Rex Rogers) "This is Richie Drummond. He's new. We have a shortage of space so we are going to have to bunk him in with you for a few days until we can find some room for him." I snorted at this because I knew his "few days" was going to be at least two weeks until the next bus left. The kid looked a little apprehensive at the idea of having to room with me. My boots were caked with red clay and I was spattered all over with mud and grease from the equipment. The only place even remotely clean on me was the top of my head where my hard hat had covered some of my hair. I tried to smile but I was too tired to put much effort into it. "Sure thing, Don. Come on kid. Grab your gear." We made our way into the dorm.

I led Richie into my/our room and showed him where to put his stuff and told him the top bunk was his. I gave him directions to the bathroom and the chow hall and wandered off to get a shower and change. By the time I had sluiced off all the mud and felt fairly human again, Richie was gone . I assumed he went to dinner. I intended to give him the ten cent tour of the place just to be neighborly when he got back and I settled onto my bunk to wait for his return. I guess I was more tired than I thought. I fell asleep and didn't see him until my alarm went off then next morning. I was still laying on top of my covers with all of my clothes on. When I got up the kid was still snoring into his pillow, sound asleep. One of the things I was going to have to teach him was how to get up with an alarm clock!

The first week living with Richie wasn't as bad as I had feared. He was older than he looked. He was actually only a month or so younger than I was, not the fifteen or sixteen he looked at first glance. He was small for his age and had a baby face that he was trying hard to grow out of. As Richie said once when I remarked on it "All of my people are small. It's just how we are." I'm sure if there had been girls here, they would all have been after him, calling him "cute". Richie never talked much about his home life or what he did to get sent to the camp. From the bits and pieces I did pick up it seemed like he had led a pretty sheltered life until he got into trouble. It seemed to be a sore subject so I never pursued it much. He was in the GED classes in the mornings and learning to be a painter in the afternoons. I knew the guy who ran the painting program, a pretty good cat, and I asked him to keep an eye on Richie and let me know if he was having any problems. I also talked to Ms. Anita who taught the GED classes and asked her for input on what he needed the most help on. I figured the best way to get my peace and quiet back was to get this kid through the course as fast as I could.

So during the day, I went out to "work" on the big equipment and Richie went off to school. We developed a pretty strong relationship right from the start. As I was the "older and wiser" one he referred to me as "Old man" and to me he was "Young man". When we were together we goofed around a lot. Just guy stuff, mostly. In the evenings after chow we would sit down at the desk in our room and I would tutor him on the subjects he was having trouble with, or just drill him on the stuff for the upcoming quizzes. Afterwards he usually went out into the day room to watch teevee or out to play basketball with the other guys and I stayed in to read or play my guitar. Occasionally he would stay in the room and listen to me play. I'm not really all that good at it, but I try.

The second weekend after Richie arrived I packed my rucksack full of food and a few books, slung my guitar over my shoulder and took off for the cabin, intending to spend the entire weekend by myself. On Saturday morning I woke up missing seeing his face snoring into his pillow. By Saturday afternoon I realized I actually missed having the little snot around and decided to head back in. I shook my head at myself. So much for the rugged individualist! I thought that maybe if I thought he could take the walk, I'd invite him out the following weekend. That was the first time I ever even considered sharing my secret place and the idea kind of startled me. I hoped he knew how to keep his mouth shut.

I never was one of those "touchy-feely" people. Especially not with other guys. Not that I think anything about that, it just wasn't my way. I know plenty of guys that will hug an old friend they haven't seen in awhile . The most I would usually do is a handshake or a friendly punch in the shoulder now and then. But Richie seemed to thrive on that sort of contact. He would reach out and touch my arm when asking me a question. The first time we got through a particularly difficult set of math problems successfully he threw his arms around my neck and hugged me. I could tell it was a reassurance thing with him so I made sure that when he needed to be rewarded for doing good work, I would throw in a hug or a pat on the back along with the praise. When I put an arm across his shoulders and told him "Good work, Rich!" he would wiggle like a puppy.

Two weeks after Richie arrived Don came and told me they were still having some space problems but he could move Richie out into a dorm room with some of the younger kids and I would probably get one of the older guys to bunk with me. I told him not to worry about it. "He's kind of excitable" I said, "But he's not a bad kid. And he keeps his part of the room clean. I'm kind of attached to him. If you don't care, I'll just keep him there for now." Don didn't have any trouble with that and it removed the headache of having to shuffle people around for him.

I got my first clue about what was going to happen between us the following weekend. On Thursday we had gotten rained out on a job site by a big storm that rolled through but we ended up spending ten hours out in the rain trying to get our equipment pulled out of the mud. When I came in soaking wet and covered with mud Richie jumped up and guided me into the chair by the desk. He pulled off my boots, socks, jacket and shirt and tossed them in a pile in the corner where I usually put my dirty clothes. Then he opened my locker and got me my sweats and a clean t-shirt and towel and my little bag of soap and shampoo and stuff I carried to the showers every day. He handed me my stuff and told me to go get cleaned up. When I returned I found that he had rinsed off my boots and stuffed them full of old newspapers to dry and had rinsed the worst of the mud out my clothes and threw them in the washing machine. He had even snuck into the showers and taken my dirty clothes from there to wash! I barely even noticed as I came back into the room and fell into bed and was asleep within seconds.

The following morning I woke up with a serious cold. Body aches, fever and chills, the works. Called the boss and told him I was sick. Went to see the camp nurse and she told me to go to bed and drink plenty of fluids. Like I didn't know that. I went back to bed. Richie, bless his heart, raced back to the dorm at every break to check on me. Most of the times I was asleep, but when I was awake he would ask if I needed anything and if I did, he would run off to get whatever I needed. I told him he didn't need to keep running over here and he laid a hand on my arm and said "Rex, you been so good to me since I got here, I will do whatever it takes to pay you back. Don't worry, old man, I'll take care of you!" And he raced off again to get to his next class.

By supper time that evening I felt like eating something, but was too weak to go and get it myself. Little Richie went to the chow hall and got in an argument with the head cook (a great big, fierce Indian woman who secretly liked most of us) and got permission to bring me a tray in the dorm room. The kid had guts! I was impressed. The cooks name was Gloria Whitekiller. She was a huge mountain of a woman whose face almost always wore a frown. But that was just the way her face was shaped. I had discovered months ago that if you sweet talked her, you could get almost anything you wanted food-wise. She was never fooled by my slick words and always threatened to kick my ass if she caught me in her kitchen mooching food. But I always got just enough of what I needed just the same. Between her expression and that ominous name, most of the guys were too scared to even talk to her. I suspect she was lonely.

After I had eaten a bit, I set the tray to the side and looked over at my roommate. He was sitting by the side of my bed watching me eat and telling me what he had done during the day. When I set the tray down he said "Did you get enough? Do you want more? I'll go get you more if you want!" I reached out and placed my hand on his cheek. "Richie, you are going to make somebody a fine wife someday." I said, jokingly. He leaned his head gently into my palm and almost, but not quite, brushed his lips against my hand. It was a small gesture and I almost missed it. But I did see and it made me wonder. Was the kid just starved for affection? Was it a byproduct of his need for physical touch? Or was it something more? I decided I would just wait and see what happened. I wasn't thinking clearly anyway and I figured it wouldn't hurt to wait and see.

I spent the entire weekend in bed except for brief trips back and forth to the bathroom. Every time I got out of bed Richie was there putting my arm around his shoulder to help me walk and make sure I didn't fall. I was fairly certain I could have made it there and back by myself but on the other hand I was pretty weak and didn't want to end up face down on the bathroom tile, either. Some of the guys in the day room started giving Richie a hard time whenever we would stumble through. One of them, a real card by the name of Archie "Ace" Wiggins started referring to Richie as my "little nursemaid". He and his cronies would always laugh heartily after he made that remark. After the third time I heard him say that, I made an abrupt turn coming back from the bathroom and staggered into the day room where Ace and his buddies were hanging out. I walked right up to Ace, with Richie under one arm and said "Since you seem to enjoy it so much, Ace, I decided I would share with you. Maybe you can get a nurse of you own." And with that I held up my free hand, licked my palm and held it out to him. "Here, pal. Shake and share." Ace came up out of the seat and over the back of the chair so quick you would have thought I had offered him a live rattlesnake. "No way man!" he cried "You keep you germs to yourself! I don't want none of that!" The other guys were laughing at him now as he kept backing away. I just smiled. "Behave yourself there, Ace. Or I'll sneak in and borrow your toothbrush." On the way back in to the room Richie squeezed me with his arm and whispered "That was awesome!" I just smiled.

By Monday morning I was feeling better but not yet 100% and the boss told me to take another day off just in case. The job site was still too muddy to work and the crews were just sitting around doing routine maintenance. "Don't want you dying on me, Rex." he said "You are going to be my next crew chief!" So I sat around in the room and napped and waited for Richie to get off of work in the afternoon.

He had a big exam coming up the following morning so after chow we closed ourselves up in the room and I quizzed him for several hours. It was all geography and history and easy stuff but I wanted him to do good so I quizzed him hard until I was sure he knew the material. When I was satisfied and we were done I stood up and put an arm around his shoulders and gave him a big hug. "You are doing great, tiger! You got this!" He turned into my hug and wrapped his arms around me tight and buried his head in my chest. "Thank you, Rex." he said against my chest "I don't know how I would have done this without you." His right hand had slipped down to my hip and now it slid down to my upper thigh, just below my crotch. "I'd like to repay you" he said, looking up into my eyes "Any way that I can." With that his hand slipped around and gently cupped my crotch in his palm. I looked down at him and I could feel my dick starting to get hard through my jeans. The heat from his hand started to spread through my lower torso. "Do you realize what you are doing?" I asked. He gazed into my eyes and nodded. "Do you want me to stop?"

My mind said "Yes! No! Maybe!" I wasn't really sure what I wanted. Like I said before, I didn't think much about it either way and the situation had never come up before so I didn't know exactly how I felt about it. But I did like feeling him softly squeezing my cock and I was pretty sure I would enjoy it if we took it a few steps further. His hand was now slowly sliding up and down the length of my now fully erect cock hanging down my pant leg. I decided to put the ball back in his court again but with conditions. "Just so you know exactly what you are getting into here, young man." I said in the same voice I used while tutoring him in math. "If you keep doing that then very soon you are going to end up on your knees with my cock in your mouth." His lips parted to speak and I pressed a finger over them to quiet him. "And if you take my cock in your mouth you are going to suck me until I come inside of your mouth and you are going to swallow all of my come. Do you understand that?" He nodded and I continued. "And that may satisfy us for a while, but not long after that you are going to end up face down on a pillow and I am going to see if that prick of mine will fit up inside of your ass and I will fuck you long and hard and fill your tight little ass with my come too. Is that what you want?" His hand squeezed me hard and he started to slide down to his knees. "Yes Rex! That is what I want!" He went to his knees in front of me, with both hands now holding my cock and stroking me. "I want to suck you until you come. I want you to fuck me. I want to make you happy. I... I love you, Rex."

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byJustrex© 10 comments/ 27748 views/ 38 favorites

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