remember that time in the teepee?

scottie stood in the teepee with his parents
listening to the attractive
half-naked native-american man.
scottie's dick was tingling.
scottie had just turned 13. he
was tall, skinny, blond, and
rather good-looking, in a skinny, blond,
good-looking, boyish kind of way.
scottie was getting a hardon.
scottie stood there dreamy-eyed
between his parents staring at
the attractive half-naked native-american man.
scottie watched the lips of
the attractive half-naked native-american man.
scottie listened attentively to the voice of
the attractive half-naked native-american man.
the attractive half-naked native-american man
had a nice voice, deep, and tranquil.
his chest was smooth and sexy, and he had
nice little pink nipples.  scottie listened
attentively as his big dick
throbbed with the force of
what seemed to be vast and
unlimited gallons of blood, rushing into
blood vessels and capillaries and
veins and arteries and anywhere else
down there it could possibly rush, pushing every which
way it could possibly push. and,
when the attractive half-naked native-american man
asked if there were any questions,
scottie thought of at least 25,
but didn't say a goddamn word.
much later, though, when his parents
asked scottie how long he'd known
he was gay, scottie said,
"remember that time in the teepee?"

--Carl Miller Daniels