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Island Boi
by ???

 
Well, as usual, the "great" Dr. Wilhelmina Ehrlich got her way. The most beloved female anthropologist since Margaret Mead, she was on her way to begin a long-desired, well-financed study of the Akua people – a little-known Polynesian tribe whose home island had never really hit the fashion pages like Tahiti or even Bora-Bora. It wasn't that it was a particularly small island - it was larger than Hawai’i itself. It had just never caught the imagination of either artists or travel promoters.

Wilhelmina had loved the island from the first time she'd seen it. Full
of lush tropical jungle, it was singularly devoid of dangerous
varieties of mammals, reptiles and insects. The people were
physically beautiful (to her mind, at least) - golden skinned, with
diet and tradition leading to near-perfect physical proportions. Life
for the Akua was easy, but their customs were strenuous enough to keep them fit from cradle to grave - life was like one long athletic
competition in the more remote villages.

In the one major port city, Lahuana, Western civilization had had some impact. The natives who lived there made their livings catering to Western incursions. Although the tourist traffic was slight, it was
steady - enough to establish a tourist-based economy for at least a
few hundred people who lived and worked in the town.

Nevertheless, what Wilhelmina had seen in the small, largely untouched up-country communities had sold her on the Akua way of life. It was unique so different from any other society she had studied that she felt like a graduate student again - excited, full of anticipation, energized, as she hadn't been in years.

The only problem was her son, Gregory. He was just entering his senior year of high school, a 17-year-old with the world in his grasp. He was smart, good-looking, popular, athletic in his peer group, he
ruled. She felt him drifting into a world that she didn't entirely
approve of - a world of shallow minds and powerful egos. As an
anthropologist, she knew, for a certainty, that if he finished his
senior year in his present school, with the company he was keeping,
she'd never really be able to reach him again. Which was why, despite his anger and all the resistance he could muster, she had taken him out of school and brought him with her to the South Pacific. "Home schooling" she called it - no problem with that - with her
credentials, he would have no difficulty passing standardized exams
for his degree.

As they stepped off the boat in Lahuana, (there was no air travel to
the island), she was buoyant - everything was just as she had
remembered. However, one black cloud remained - Gregory was still in his furious teen mode. For the entire trip, he'd barely had a civil word for his mother. His life was ruined - period. And it was all her
fault. The last thing he wanted was to waste a year of his life on
some godforsaken uncivilized island, playing big bwana to the natives.

She was actually a little worried - it was beginning to look like
she'd waited too long. Her lovable little Germ had grown beyond her
reach - he was now more like some full-blown disease - unreachable and relentless in his antagonism. For the last leg of the trip - the
five-day boat ride from the nearest airport-equipped island - she had
booked them a shared cabin. She was determined to eke out as much time in the field as possible, given the finite nature of the
endowment that was financing her, and she was cutting every corner
possible to save money.

But her son was right about one thing - she was still thinking of him
as a little boy, when he had become, without her realizing it, a man.
Or nearly so, at least in body. His mind was still that of a
spoiled teenager, but he was turning into an incredibly gorgeous young man. Even as his mother, she could finally see that. In the cramped quarters of their shared cabin, she became aware of the size of him -he took up a surprising amount of space - especially in his surly standoffish mood. He was tall and had a good high school athlete’s body - narrow waist, well-developed chest and legs. In the t-shirt and boxers that he wore to bed (and obviously felt fully dressed in), she was aware of his full pecs, big biceps and muscular thighs.

On one occasion, when she'd gotten up before him (as she did every
morning), he had kicked the sheet partly off his bed, fully revealing
his morning erection, which thrust out the fly of his boxers. He was
truly huge - his swollen cock was at least 8 or 9 inches long and as
big around as a beer bottle. He was uncircumcised, but the enormous
head of his cock protruded completely beyond the foreskin,
accentuating the rigidity of his erection. She couldn't resist
staring at it for several minutes, while he moaned and thrust his
hips, obviously rapt in some erotic dream. Finally, afraid he'd wake
up to see her there, she delicately drew the sheet back over his body
and left the cabin, not returning until she was sure he'd already
gotten up and dressed. She was pretty sure he had no idea what had
happened, but for several days, she was plagued by mental flashes of that beautiful cock of his, distracting her from her work and
disturbing her sleep.

----

After several days in Lahuana, Gregory was beginning to get used to the idea that he wasn't going to be spending his senior year screwing
Angela Jordan (as he had planned).

He sulked around the cottage that his mother had rented for them, but since she spent most of her time on protracted visits to the interior,
all that prime sulking was really wasted. He finally started
wandering around the town, finding little or nothing to interest him.
The girls looked pretty good, but they were natives. He'd grown up
in an anthropological family, and natives didn't really seem like
people to him. Objects of interest, but not the kind of creatures a
guy could treat like equals. Or be friends with.

The beach was great, though. He decided he'd at least get a
scandalous tan, and decided to buy a really small bikini and spend his days lying out. He knew from past summers that his skin would turn a smooth golden tan and his blond hair would go near white from the sun.

With his mother gone most of the time, he was really starting to get
lonely. He had to admit (to himself) that he was even glad to see her
when she came back from her frequent trips. He began noticing the
young people in the town. At first, it was confusing - it seemed as
though there were two different types of natives - half of them wore
light but conventional western clothing. But the other half - the
girls wore wraparound skirts with no tops - their breasts were
completely bare. They didn't seem particularly conscious of it, nor
did anyone else. Of course, Gregory noticed. Without any sexual
outlet, he was constantly horny and the sight of those beautiful, tan
breasts had him constantly hard. As oversized as his cock was, this
meant that he finally had to give up on the scandalous tan - he
started wearing baggy shorts, with his most powerful jock underneath.

He finally figured out that the difference between the two types of
clothing was just a matter of where the girls lived - those that lived
permanently in the town wore t-shirts and shorts or skirts. It was
only those from the villages who went bare-breasted - and he only saw them when they happened to come to town, usually to visit relatives or purchase supplies.

While the girls excited him, he found the appearance of the boys his
age more disturbing. Again, the townies dressed a lot like him, but
the village boys were always completely naked. Even in town. And not just the young ones. The ones his age - with their well-developed
bodies - firm muscles, flat bellies, and fat uncircumcised cocks swaying as they walked. They tended to be smooth-bodied - very little body hair. Even their pubic hair was minimal - just the one neat patch
above the cock - the rest of the belly perfectly smooth. He noticed
that they tended to have well-developed buttocks and thighs - they
must do a lot of running. When not moving, they looked like Roman
statues. While they seemed very friendly, he was too uncomfortable
around them to carry on a conversation, let alone in French, which was the only non-Polynesian language most of them spoke.

He was just beginning to relax into the eventless life of the town
when his mother came home one evening, very excited.

"They've agreed to let us join a village!" she couldn't stop grinning
as she gave him the news.

He stuck with the aloof teen attitude, but inside he knew why she was
excited. He knew enough about her work to realize that this was a big
deal - that she could get a lot more information from the inside than
just by observing. "What do you mean, 'us'?" he asked.

"Both of us," she answered. "They know I have a son and they offered a hut and acceptance into their tribe - well, their village, actually. These things are handled on a village basis. We have to move fast. I want to be up there tomorrow. The process takes a week or two and he sooner we start the better."

"Uh, what exactly do we have to do? To join them?"

Wilhelmina was relieved. Without saying so directly, his question made
it clear that he wasn't going to refuse outright. She had to admit
she didn't know exactly what would be involved. That was part of the
process - to learn the rules and procedures.

Both of them worked in near-congenial silence for the rest of the day,
packing up everything they'd need, packaging the rest to leave it
behind until later. They took a boat halfway around the island to
get to a point that would shorten the overland trek by half.

In the morning, they hired a farm wagon and oxen, loaded their boxes
into it and started plodding up the trail toward the village. Within
half an hour, they were in dense jungle. Despite himself, Gregory was
excited - he'd never seen real jungle before - not in person. Halfway
through the day, they were met by a group from the village who
welcomed them to their part of the island and accompanied the wagon in a festive mood as it continued on its way up the slowly climbing trail. Gregory was gratified by the concern and consideration being shown them. He had not realized in what high regard his mother was held here.

When they finally reached the village, Gregory was in a complete haze he was exhausted and hardly able to keep his eyes open. He and his
mother were shown to their new home - a three-room structure that
allowed each of them a private sleeping area and a general room for
cooking, eating and study. He just rolled into bed, barely managing
to strip down to his shorts.

The following morning, he overslept - from sheer exhaustion. They had already been visited by the chieftain of the village, who gave Wilhelmina her initial instructions on becoming a villager. In a nutshell, they were to conform as completely as possible to village norms – whether any unusual requests or "outsider" items or behaviours would be allowed could be discussed (as need arose) and decided upon by the village council. But the council's decisions were final - it would be considered insulting to continue to argue for any special requests after a formal process had been gone through.

It was pretty much what she had hoped for - the people were, in
general, very reasonable and kindly, and it was actually her own
preference that exceptions not be made. Her research would be that
much more valuable if her experience was authentically Akua and not
some hybrid.

She was looking forward, with some trepidation, to Gregory's reaction
to all this. Because she was perfectly aware - although it did not
seem to have occurred to him - that he was going to have to dress
Akua-style during the several months that she planned for them to
spend in the village. And when Gregory woke up, he found himself
already clothed in the Akua style of dress for 17-year-old boys - he
was stark naked. A couple of the village boys of his age had come in
while he was sleeping and removed his boxers as part of the "removal of the foreign objects" process. All their belongings that the
chieftain questioned or outright forbade were removed and placed in general storage building. It was understood that Wilhelmina and the
chieftain would discuss some of those items, but there was no real question about Gregory's clothing - he would have none that was absolute.

Gregory woke to Wilhelmina's calling him to breakfast. He was confused at first could not figure out where he was - then he remembered the long journey they had taken and their arrival the night before. He was somewhat embarrassed when he realized he was naked - somebody must have removed his shorts. He got off the mat he had been sleeping on and looked around, but saw no obvious place where there might be clothing. He still had a morning half-hard-on and finally, out of a need to urinate, he looked around the corner of the door into the common room. "Hey, Mom, where's the toilet? And where's my clothes?"

Wilhelmina looked at his tousled head and as much of his bare upper
body as was revealed around the doorframe. "The toilet is outdoors -
at the north end of the village. There's one for men and one for
women. The men's is at the end of a short path that angles off toward
the left." She grinned at him. "And your clothes are in storage. As
long as we're here, you'll be dressing in the Akua style. In fact,
you're already dressed in the Akua style, as it happens - 17-year-old
boys wear nothing at all. Well, for formal occasions, they wear a
head band and a belt, but you'll have to make those for yourself."

He stared at her, suddenly looking extraordinarily young with his
mussed blond hair and his wide blue eyes. "You're kidding, right?"

She shook her head. "No, Gregory. Surely, you noticed the village boys while you were in town? I don't believe you weren't aware of that." Actually, she was quite certain that he hadn't thought it through right now, she was just trying to make it a pride thing - she didn't
think he'd admit being so unobservant.

And she was right. "Well, yeah," he said, making an obvious effort to
remain calm. "But I didn't think that would apply to me. They know
that that's not our custom. Surely they wouldn't expect me to be able
to go around stark naked just like that."

"Well, Gregory, you see, to them it's no big deal. I don't think it
would occur to them that you'd mind a bit."

"Well, I do mind." He sounded a little panicky. "I can't go out like
this." He sounded almost in pain. "And I really do have to go.
Right now." He was moving from foot to foot, inadvertently exposing
little flashes of naked hip and thigh around the doorframe as he did.

"Sorry, Gregory. But you're going to have to go just as you are. No
one will pay the slightest attention. Honestly. You saw how it was
yesterday. All the boys your age are completely bare - all the time.
They would only find it odd if you weren't naked." She frowned at
him. "Now hurry up - run if you want to, but just follow the path
that way," (pointing north, since she assumed he had no directional
bearings yet), "and get it over with. I'm starving and I've waited
breakfast for you, so I don't have much patience."

She could see that he wanted to argue more, but it was just as clear
that his bladder wasn't going to wait much longer. Finally, he
shuffled into the main room, trying to keep his genitals covered as he
turned to the door and then, literally, ran out the door. She walked
over to the door to watch and giggled as she saw him dash up the path such a gorgeous body he had. His ass was similar in type to the
locals - full, round cheeks, totally hairless. But now that she was
seeing it (for the first time) fully naked, she realized that it was
actually quite a bit fuller than most of the natives, especially in
contrast to his narrow, athletic waist. She was surprised to see that
his ass was a real work of art - and erotic art, at that. Most of it
hadn't seen the sun in many years, and she watched fondly as his
amazingly white cheeks jiggled and bounced as he ran.

There weren't many villagers around - those that saw him stared openly (of course - regardless of what she had told him, they were all going to be very curious about the newcomers). She noticed they all had broad smiles on their faces as they went about their business once Gregory had disappeared into the bushes.

She sat down at her desk and began working on her notes, giving Gregory the space to come back into the hut without being looked at. And a few minutes later, she heard the pattering of his bare feet as he dashed back inside. She got up and motioned him to the table. "Just sit and I'll put breakfast on." Carefully avoiding staring, she
served the local porridge-like dish with some spices and coconut milk.

He was reassured enough by her calmness and the tabletop covering him that he managed to begin eating - he was obviously starving, too.

Of course, the tabletop didn't really cover him that well - Wilhelmina
was impressed once again by how beautiful he was - his body was
classical, perfect. And his cock and balls, which were readily
visible to her as she moved around the room, were quite large. Bigger
than any man she'd ever been with. Certainly bigger than any of the
villagers, that she'd seen. She smiled. He was just going to have to
get used to being stared at - not for being naked, but for being so
goddamned hot. Even the villagers thought so - a couple of them had
commented on his looks last night, and she'd seen the expressions on the faces of those that had seen him naked this morning.

And of course, contrary to what Wilhelmina had just told Gregory, the
villagers knew perfectly well that Gregory was going to be deeply
embarrassed by his enforced nudity. They were not ignorant of
western culture and were looking forward to having a good deal of
enjoyment - at Gregory's expense.

As he ate, Wilhelmina informed Gregory that she had asked one of the boys to come by after breakfast, to show Gregory around. She also handed him a tube of the highest rated sun block she had. "Here - make sure you cover yourself thoroughly with this. The parts of you that are lily-white will burn very quickly in this tropical sun - it's critical
that you keep your whole body covered with this for the first week or
so. After that, we'll see. It shouldn't take too long."

Gregory's eyes widened a little - he hadn't even thought about that.

"Kehea will help you - you're not going to be able to do it right
otherwise. Especially on your back and backside. I've already
explained to him what to do and how to do it." Gregory's discomfort
with this idea was so obvious that she immediately went on. "One
problem is going to be that this is really a traditional village - the
people here do not speak English. You'll have to learn the language
as quickly as possible - Kehea will help you there, as well. He knows
just a few words of English - I taught him. He knows French a little
better, so your Latin might help there when you're struggling for a
word. But the best thing is just to try to learn the Akuan words and
use them as best you can." She went to her desk. "Here's a list of
some of the basics - they're pronounced like Hawaiian - pronounce
every vowel separately. You shouldn't have any trouble making
yourself understood. If you do, Kehea will be there to help."

Gregory was starting to look deeply uneasy with all this. His anxiety
level was rising by the moment. Fortunately, Kehea chose that moment to show up.

In the usual manner of the villagers, he made a small noise with his
feet outside the door, and then walked in. He walked up to Gregory and held out his hand. "Hello!" he said in a triumphant voice.

Gregory was totally panicked. He was completely naked and confronted by another naked guy his own age - in front of his fully dressed mother, no less. He froze in place, hoping to stay at least a little covered by the tabletop.

Kehea's broad smile slowly dimmed. Confused, he turned to Wilhelmina and asked (in Akua), "Does he not understand me? Did I do something wrong?"

Wilhelmina glared at her son. "Now, come on, Gregory. You have better manners than that. He thinks he's offended you somehow. Just bite the bullet - stand up, shake his hand, and say hello. That's all you
need to do. Pretend you're in the locker room after gym or something,
but do it now."

Ashamed at the way he'd rained on Kehea's parade, he gritted his teeth and followed orders. He stood up, reached out his hand to Kehea, smiling as sincerely as he could manage, and said, "Hello!"

Kehea's smile resurfaced and he reached out and shook Gregory's hand.

Realizing that much of Gregory's embarrassment was because of her
presence, Wilhelmina quickly sent them into Gregory's room to put on the sun block. "And make sure you cover every inch - I don't want to have to rush you off to the doctor for second-degree burns." She repeated the instruction in Akua to make sure Kehea understood the seriousness of the process.

Over the next half-hour or so, she was intrigued by sounds from
Gregory's room. At first, it almost sounded like the seduction of a
sorority girl, with a lot of "No!" and "Stop that!" But after a few
minutes, there was little talking - the only sound she heard was the
occasional (almost obscene) snorting sound as more cream was squeezed out of the tube.

She peeked in once, to see Gregory on his knees and elbows with his ass in the air. Kehea was carefully and methodically spreading the lotion over the other boy's spectacularly spread ass cheeks. As she watched, Kehea spread huge dollops of lotion up and down Gregory's wide-open ass crack, massaging the slippery stuff into his white skin. Without missing a beat, he massaged the goop into Gregory's tiny pink asshole. Wilhelmina could see Gregory tensing up, but it was over in a moment, and he let it go. Kehea noticed her peeking in and gave her a broad wink and a grin. She ducked away before Gregory noticed her.

When they finally emerged from the bedroom, Gregory was still red-faced and sheepish - but, clearly, very thoroughly greased up. Every inch of his body was shining with the lotion.

"Don't worry, Gregory, it'll soak in, in a few minutes and you won't
look quite so much like a greased pig."

He glared at her, obviously not much appreciating her attempt at
humour. She realized that he probably did think he looked like a
greased pig.

"Just kidding. You look fine. Now Kehea is going to show you some of the key places in the village. And remember to use your vocabulary
whenever you can. Do you see the word there for 'thank you'?"

Reluctantly, Gregory checked over the list. It was there, of course.

"So - say it to Kehea. Now."

Still looking annoyed, Gregory carefully read out the words in Akua.

Kehea's face lit up. He came back with a torrent of Akua.

Wilhelmina laughed. "He says that it was his pleasure. You have a very
fine body. You must be a good athlete."

Gregory flushed slightly, but gamely came back with the words for
'thank you' and 'yes.'

Wilhelmina could see that Gregory must have had some trouble with getting an erection. His cock was still swollen and pinker than usual. A little of his cockhead could be seen thrusting out from behind his
foreskin. She giggled (internally) - he looked simply huge. The
villagers were going to love it.

Kehea gestured for him to follow and stepped outside. Gregory looked
totally panicked for a moment, then took a deep breath and, wide-eyed, followed him out.

Again, Wilhelmina stood in the doorway to watch him off. Walking, he
was much sexier than running. His full, round ass cheeks dimpled and shifted - first left, then right. Then left, then right. It was
truly poetry in motion. Even from behind, she could see his heavy
cock swaying between his legs. Glancing around at the surrounding
huts, she could see several of her neighbours watching as well – some through their doors, some actually stepping outside. They clearly approved of what they saw. Noticing Wilhelmina at the door, they smiled and nodded at her and made the gesture that was the Akua equivalent of the "OK" sign in Canada.

From Gregory's point of view, however, everything was moving way too fast. He felt a sudden gust of warm air between his moist ass cheeks and was reminded with a shock that he was walking stark naked down the main drag of a village. He could see people everywhere they smiled and waved, but, fortunately, they pretty much kept their distance. (Wilhelmina had suggested that they give the teenager a little space in the beginning - to give him a chance to get used to things.)

But every few yards, it seemed one of the boys would come up to them and introduce himself before fading back into the village scene. Each one walked up to Kehea and tapped him lightly on the chest, then, when Kehea spoke his name to Gregory, the boy turned to Gregory and tapped his chest. Using more sign language than English, Kehea conveyed to Gregory that this was equivalent to a handshake. (Since Wilhelmina didn't want any western influences here, she had briefed Kehea in no uncertain terms that Gregory should be treated exactly like a villager no catering to his western background.) Gregory quickly learned to follow suit, tapping each youngster in turn.

Kehea had to demonstrate a couple of times exactly how to do it. At
first the native boys giggled and Kehea let Gregory know that he was
tapping in the wrong place - there was a rather small "correct" area -
on the right pectoral muscle within a couple of inches of the nipple
(but not on the nipple). And it was surprisingly difficult to hit it
(if you weren't used to it). A couple of times Gregory hit the nipple
and there was a lot of giggling.

When they got to the chieftain's house, Kehea showed Gregory the way he (and all "adult" males in the village) should be greeted -- with a fairly deep bow from the waist. And it was to be held until the man
tapped him on the top of the head.

When they entered the house, the chieftain was very pleased with
Gregory's efforts. So pleased, in fact, that he walked around the
bent-over boy a couple of times ("to admire," as Kehea told him
later). He particularly admired Gregory's white ass cheeks - he had
never seen such white skin before and spent quite a bit of time
examining the teenager's ass. Gregory was deeply humiliated by all
this - he wasn't sure if he was expected to do something (like stand
up), but Kehea's instructions were clear and he decided to stick to
them, even when he felt the chieftain's hands running lightly over his
ass. When the man finally finished his examination and tapped him on the head, Gregory was blushing deeply, but dutifully stood to attention facing the older man. His cock had puffed up a little in response to the sensation of male hands on his sensitive bottom, but he decided it probably wasn't too obvious.

There followed a long conversation in Akua between Kehea and the
chieftain. Once when Gregory looked the chieftain in the face, the older man's eyes seemed to be focussed down around Gregory's big cock, and the teenager looked away in confusion. Despite his embarrassment, he could feel his cock beginning to plump up a little more from the attention, and he tried to concentrate on other things to avoid getting a full erection.

As it happened, the conversation was in fact just as focussed on
Gregory's cock as the chieftain's eyes had appeared to be. The chieftain had asked Kehea whether he'd seen Gregory's cock fully erect and Kehea explained that while he'd been applying the sunscreen, it had gotten maybe half-hard, but definitely not a full erection. The chieftain told him that if it ever did get fully hard, Kehea should send for him immediately - he wanted to see it. It looked like it would be a record-breaker anywhere, but it definitely was the largest in this village.

Throughout the conversation, the chieftain occasionally smiled and
nodded encouragingly at Gregory. The kid had no idea that they were in fact - discussing the size of his cock. Before they finally left,
Kehea indicated that Gregory should bow again, which he did. The
chieftain took another stroll around, just to get a last look at the
kid's greased-up little pink hole (grinning and winking at Kehea as he
did), before finally tapping the Canadian boy on the forehead,
permitting him to rise and leave.

The chieftain was still smiling after they left - this opened up many
possibilities to him - many possibilities. The villages on this
island competed continually for status - and their degree of success
was determined by the success of the combatants - the young men of the village. When he heard that the anthropologist had a crack athlete
for a son, he came up with the idea of using them to enhance the
village's position - they hadn't been doing well lately. It looked
like he had made a good decision - the kid was clearly an athlete, but
his good looks and huge cock were suggesting some more interesting possibilities. The chieftain started figuring out how he could induce one of the other villages to compete with them on some new and original basis - not just the same old athletic competitions. There were precedents - everyone knew the ancient stories. It would just be a matter of resurrecting them in just the right way. He had to give it some thought.

From the chieftain's, Kehea headed right for the school. Gregory would be joining Kehea's class beginning that morning. Class was held in a medium-sized one-room hut. There were four other
guys about the same age as Gregory in the room. The teacher was a
middle-aged man in native clothing - evidently a village man, as well.
The boys sat - or rather knelt - behind low desks - only about a foot
off the floor. The desks were simple wooden surfaces resting on wood blocks. The boys knelt with their knees under the desks - they were all in the same position - knees wide, heels together, with their bare asses resting on their heels. It actually looked fairly comfortable.

Gregory and Kehea took their places at two vacant desks. Gregory found the position comfortable at first, but - being unused to it - hard to maintain.

The teacher knelt in a similar position in front of the class and
demonstrated mathematical proofs on the small blackboard, which rested directly on the ground. From time to time he had one of the boys solve a problem on the board. Since the board was so low, the usual position for working on it was on two knees and one hand - leaving the other hand free to write with.

When it came time for Gregory to do a problem, he followed the lead of the others and moved up to the board on hands and knees, picked up the chalk and began working. As he neared the end of the problem, he was running out of room at the bottom of the board and he was conscious of some murmuring among the other boys. He ignored it and concentrated on finishing the problem.

The boys were happy with his choice - they were all grinning and
whispering, all eyes focussed on Gregory's full white ass cheeks, spread wide as he bent low to write at the very bottom of the board.

The teacher, also, had moved to the back of the room to get a better
view. Gregory's knees were spread about as wide as they could go his ass in the air, the tiny pink asshole fully visible. His oversized
cock and balls swayed heavily from side to side as Gregory's weight
shifted with his writing. The sunscreen gave the teenager's smooth
skin an oily gleam. He was completely lost in the computation he was
working on.

So lost that he didn't even notice when a small tourist group slipped
into the back of the room. A French sea captain who had discovered that touring the villages was a cheap and enjoyable break (for his customers) from the island cruises that he conducted in the area led them. On this particular day, the half-dozen elderly French tourists were stunned by what they were seeing - this boy was clearly
no native - he was blond and his ass was white as snow in an obvious Speedo tan. His body was unbelievable - they stood silently drinking it in for several minutes (and taping it on their digital recorders)
before the captain - just as silently - ushered them out again.

After questioning some of the locals, the captain discovered that they
had been unintentionally treated to an unbelievably erotic view of the
bare-assed teenage son of the noted anthropologist Wilhelmina Ehrlich,
who was conducting a study of the village. The tourists, who were
thrilled to have been given a peek at the naked teenager in that
humiliating position (they all believed that the captain knew
full-well what he was going to find in that classroom), were even more
excited to learn that he was the son of a famous person.

The captain left the tourists in the care of one of the villagers,
with whom he'd arranged for them to have lunch. He wandered over to the hut of the village chieftain with whom he had a long and very
interesting conversation. From now on, they ultimately agreed, this
village would be a regular stop for the captain's tour groups.

Once classes had finished Kehea told Gregory, they were going to a
nearby meadow where the young men of the village were practicing for the next inter-village competition.

Gregory's interest was piqued - he was an excellent athlete and playing a team sport (especially if there were only guys around) appealed to his desire to go back to something like a normal life. Maybe he'd still be naked, but they didn't wear a whole lot of clothes in P.E. anyway. He found himself for the first time today actually looking forward to something, rather than dreading it.

When they got to the playing field, there were about a dozen guys
there, in total - all completely bare-ass, all around the same age as
Kehea and Gregory. Kehea had Gregory watch for a while, to get the idea of the game. It was pretty straightforward. Like football, rugby,
soccer, the idea was for your team to get the ball to the end of the
playing field. A score was evidently made by getting the ball into a
(literal) basket - there was one at each end. Once in the basket, the
ball stayed there, so the game was played with a number of balls, a
new one thrown in every time one made it into a basket. The team with the most balls in their basket (Gregory supposed) would win the game.

He didn't really see much else in the way of rules - it seemed like
almost anything goes. There was tackling, shoving, carrying the ball,
throwing the ball, kicking the ball, grabbing the ball out of someone
else's hands. It looked like you could do pretty much anything to get
possession and to get the ball to the basket.

When a basket was made, an older man (fully dressed) who stood at the equivalent of the 50-yard line almost immediately threw a new ball into the middle of the field. He appeared to be acting as the
coach or trainer. He shouted orders, advice, or something - Gregory
couldn't understand the words, but he could surprisingly often figure
out what the guy was saying.

Kehea nudged Gregory. "Understand now?" he asked.

Gregory replied (in Akua), "Yes."

Kehea smiled and took him by the arm and led him over to the coach.
Used to the custom by now, Gregory bowed at the waist.

Kehea began speaking to the coach, and almost immediately, the older
man tapped Gregory and stood him up, looking him over and sizing him
up. He spoke rapidly to Kehea as he circled Gregory, eyeing him from
top to bottom.

Kehea passed along his comments to Gregory. "He say he hear about you from chieftain. You very good . . . don't know word . . . gamer? Player?"

Gregory figured he was talking about his sports background, rather than computers. "Athlete," he translated.

Kehea smiled broadly. "Yes, yes - I know this word. Ass-lete. You
very big ass-lete."

Gregory had tried before, but he knew Kehea was simply not capable of the "th" sound in English. It still sounded a little obscene -
especially with his bare ass in full view.

The coach had no problem being physical. He squeezed Gregory's biceps, ran his hands over the teenager's pecs and abs, seemingly pleased with what he saw and felt. He knelt down and checked out his legs in some detail, gripping and squeezing each thigh in turn, and doing the same to his calf muscles.

He had Gregory run at top speed to the end of the field and back, Kehea translating the orders, which were obvious enough from the coach's motions. Running on an athletic field, Gregory was truly a thing of beauty. His full muscular buttocks flexed and bounced his
white-blond hair flying in the wind. On his return, a Canadian might
have been distracted by his huge cock and balls as they swung and
flopped with each stride, but the Akua were used to such sights and
the coach had no problem concentrating on the overall form and
strength of the Canadian teenager.

Of course, none of the young men practicing that day (including Kehea) had ever seen a cock as big as Gregory's. Concentrating on the coach's response, Gregory did not even notice that the game had slowed, then come to a stop as the players watched him run, all eyes riveted well below his waist.

With Kehea translating, the coach asked if he thought he understood
how the game was played. When he responded that he thought he had some idea, the coach said, "Good enough," and sent him onto the field to play.

He'd been wondering how everyone could tell which team was which -when Kehea gave him a two pairs of orange wrist- and ankle-bands, he looked around at the others and realized that they were all wearing either orange or green bands around both wrists and ankles. Pretty subtle, but when you were used to complete nudity, maybe even something as small as a wristband jumped out at you.

At first, he felt a little awkward, but he found that by just concentrating on getting the ball and driving it to the end zone, he could figure out what needed doing. He just had to forget about rules and regulations, fouls and restarts - just keep after the ball. He started having fun for the first time since arriving in the village.

The first time he scored a goal, he was a little taken aback by the
way the other guys on his team congratulated him. Although he
shouldn't have been surprised - it was exactly what guys in Canada
do they slapped him on the ass. The fact that his ass was bare was
the only thing that really made it different. And they slapped a
little harder than he was used to - although it may have just felt
that way because the slaps were skin to skin, rather than with a
couple of layers of clothing between.

As concentrated as he was on the game, he hardly noticed that there
were several villagers watching his every move - a few of the young
girls (who often showed up to watch their favourite guys), but also
several older women and men, including the chieftain. He was smiling and nodding - Gregory was every bit as good an athlete as he had expected. With just a little training, he'd make a big difference in
the village's rankings. And seeing that huge cock of his, surrounded
by those of other guys his own age, confirmed that he would be a
shoo-in if the negotiations with the other villages for some
"traditional" competitions worked out. Things were looking up.

Later, when he and Kehea arrived back home, Wilhelmina was delighted to see that Gregory already seemed to be much less conscious of the fact that he was naked. The conversation between the two boys was animated, if a little stilted, and Gregory paid little or no attention to the fact that his cock and balls were fully on display to his mother. She noticed that he made no attempt whatever to cover himself.

The voluptuous-sounding "Splattt!!" with which he dropped onto one of the wooden chairs underlined his bare-assed condition, but he seemed to have grown accustomed to it remarkably quickly. She was amazed. This whole experience might be worth an article or two in itself - how shallow was the nudity taboo in North American culture, anyway?

After Kehea left, though, and the two of them were alone in the hut,
he reverted to his previous self-consciousness. As soon as possible
after they ate their evening meal, he excused himself to his room and
remained there, "studying," until bedtime.

Still, she was pleased. He was managing much better than she had
expected.

That night, nearly half the village dreamed about Gregory's naked body or parts of it. Everybody was pleased he was there and plans were being made in more than one household to take full advantage of the opportunity he presented. The chieftain, the coach, the French captain, even the schoolteacher and quite a number of the village women – all found themselves unable to get images of the body of the hot young Canadian teenager out of their minds. Moreover, they had all the time in the world to enjoy it beginning tomorrow.


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