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Old Friends & Good Time	By : highgomin Category: 1 through F > Daniel Boone Views: 1307 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Daniel Boone, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
Chapter 5

The trip was a good one. The first three days, the first three nights, they did not travel very far. They made love, long and attentively. They had sex quickly and in need. They did not set camp, or hunt, or take preventative measures for safety. The first three days were spent in discovering the new bodies in front of them - years of soldiering for John, of living in the wild for Mingo had left scars and marks. They were older, stronger even, but older.
Then, they realized they had at least three weeks together. Flesh had its limits. The wilderness required alertness.
So they rode at days, spoke of each other's lives at night, and slept in each other's arms. Rifles and pistols at the ready, camps set with precautions. Their lovemaking became just that: lovemaking, attentive, slow, and tender. Their conversations were about sharing who they were now, how they became the men they were.
"So this son of yours, where is he now?" asked Mingo.
"Back in England. He resigned his commission after the Revolution. Since he is an Earl and is the Lord of his own estate, he went back home. I have not seen him in more than a year. He is the one who travels between continents. He feels our plantation here is his true home"
"He will choose one day. I mean he cannot live on both continents." Mingo offered.
"I hope his choice will make him happy. We have always had a good relationship. We are not related by blood at all, yet to him I am his father. He is my son."

Mingo was content for John, glad that such a love existed between a father and a son. Having lived in a dual confrontation most of his life with his own blood father, he could be happy for his friend.

"Do you not think we could go to London together next year? You could visit Lord Dunsmore, as a Cherokee, according to his invitation. I could take you to my son's home and introduce you to him?"
Mingo didn't answer, John, anymore that he had answered John Dunsmore. This was an undertaking he was not sure he could make.
"What about your life within your village of Chota, Mingo?" John asked, knowing deep down he should not insist.
"It was hard when I came back home. I should have been a warrior, a true brave by then. I had a hard time speaking my native tongue after eleven years away from home. I had a dear friend, a childhood friend. He helped me. My uncle helped me. He was the Peace Chief for a long time. Daniel and the white men with him came later on; but by then I was a Cherokee man and warrior. I am a contented man. This is the life I chose, and never once have I regretted it"
"This friend of yours, he died?" John had noticed the past tense.
"Yes, he died."
John was slowly getting used to Mingo's reticence in some aspects of his life.
"Was he like us? Was he your lover? Is that why you won't speak of him?"
"No, he was not. Although he knew the man I was, so do most in my village. I found what I need by visiting other villages, other Cherokees mostly. Our villages are small, there are few like us around. No, he was married and had two daughters. They are like mine now. I am the provider of his family."

"Provider?"
"A Cherokee custom. Single men provided for widows, or orphans, and in exchange there is always food and clothing for them. I might marry her, his widow; she is very dear to me, and would accept my visiting in other villages."
"You would marry her? I don't understand if the arrangement suits all now. Why married her?"
"So I could have a son, or a daughter, too".
John himself had never felt the need to procreate; his brothers had all left children behind to carry the family's line. Mingo was alone, with him would died his duality. Perhaps that is why he could, would marry.
"Could you love her?"
"Dearly. I like women just fine. I always have. Do you not remember?"
John's laughter was a good sound in the forest.
"Oh yes, I remember. But I also remember, you could not phanthom that women refused you and wished for courtship only and never of your bed."
At that remembrance, both men started to laugh.
"Yours was the only easy bed, John Nelson, and you taught me that the white man dislikes men like us, put us to shame for our desire."
"I hope I taught you that loving was desirable and good; even if shameful in proper society"
Mingo had enough of words; now he wanted the loving.
"Come closer, John, let me show you how desirable you are", and with these words, the two men spent the last night before reaching Chota, entwined together, in desire of skin and love of the other.
***
"We'll reach Chota for the evening meal, John. You remember the customs, the greetings I taught you?"
"I do. Hopefully, I'll stand up to the scrutiny as well as you expect."
"The scars that you carry on your back and arms will do you proud when the braves scrub your white blood away. They will see the warrior that you are. They respect warriors."
The horses were walking behind the pair, a path narrower now, and the distance shorter. They were climbing a small hill when they heard people walking ahead, talking loudly, not in English.
Three tall Indians came forth, the smallest of the three greeting Mingo loudly, and clapping him on the shoulder.
All five men sat down while Mingo introduced John, in Cherookee first, than translating in English. All Cherokees braves spoke English, but it would not do to speak in the language of the one, rather than the many. John nodded and smiled, and shortly the Cherokees turned back the way they came, taking the horses with them.
"Well, John, you have no more horses now. We will need to find you a new one to head back to Virginia. Let's rest here, my friends will warn the village of our arrival. It could not have been any better than to meet these hunters on our way."
"What did they give you in that pouch?"
"Bear grease; a gift in exchange for the horses".
"Bear grease for horses? One small pouch of it. What uses do we have of bear grease here, Mingo?"
"My hair," laughed Mingo.

"Your hair? There is no grease in your hair".
"I know. Still they provide me with it, so I will use it one day. So they hope. But there is another use for grease bear, John, and they gave the pouch to you. It was your horses they took after all."
"Our horses" corrected John.
"Our horses. Our bear grease".
"They know you, Mingo? They give you bear greases for your hair which you will not use. I think I know the other use of bear grease then"
"I think you do, John, and I am willing for you to use it".
"I made a promise, Mingo, only when I offer, should I take you, not until then. You are not the young lord of your youth in awe of the blond dashing officer I was," again John laughter echoed in the forest. It was a good sound to hear John laugh, so easily, so readily.
They started to walk, slowly; there was no rush to reach the village. Their solitude was going to change soon. They reached the top of a small hill in no time at all. Mingo was ahead, longer stride, and waved to John to join him. They were above a valley; a river crossed it, a world, and a complete universe at their feet. Masters of a changing universe.
John joined Mingo, he reached for his hand and their fingers tightened.
"It's breathtaking, Mingo. Is this all Cherokee land?"
"Today, it is all Cherokee land. I have spent a decade in England, John. I know the number of Europeans, their poverties, their needs to find a new beginning. I fear for my native land, for the change to come. This is all Cherokee land today, John. I do not know if the children that I do not yet have, will own this land still."

John came closer and hugged Mingo, fiercely. Hanging on to his hand, he said "I know now it is the time of the offer. It is the time and it is the place. Mingo, will you please take me, while I look at your valley? Your love, your seed and this country of yours, it is calling to both of us."
John let go of Mingo hand and body. He reached for his top button, undoing his clothes quickly, removing his boots first, then his breeches, waiting for Mingo to follow suit.
"Now, Mingo. Make me yours and for as long as this territory belongs to your people, the memory of us will linger here."
John used his hands to clean an area near the cliff, and smoothly, without shame, knelt facing the valley, waiting for his lover.
"Mingo, what are you doing? You have not taken your clothes off".
Mingo laughed.
"John, you look marvelous. I am taking my fill of you, old friend." Mingo bent to one knee, touching John's back lightly. "Is this position comfortable?"
"I am fine, my love. The idea of you taking me, while I can watch this valley, is making me terribly aroused. Oh! Mingo, please."
Mingo put his other knee on the ground, and still fully dressed, started to touch and caress the blond Englishman. He began by removing the ribbon that was holding his hair in a tight ponytail, letting the hair cascade around John's shoulder. He then lifted John�s head, who by then was kneeling on all four and kissed the man with searing need. He removed his vest quickly and his pants even faster, keeping his mocassin on. Snatching the pouch of grease bears in his left hand, he dug his right hand inside, with a thick palm full of the stuff. He began to kiss John's lower back slowly, in circles, while he inserted the grease softly, ever so gently inside the bud of his anus.
"John, this view of you and this view of the valley means as much to me as the memory of our first night together, in your small officer room, gloomy, dark and cold, with bricks wall full of humidity. If there is pain, you must tell me right away. Our togetherness must be full of love, joy, not pain. You will tell me, John?"
Mingo's mouth was softly kissing John's right buttock, his left hand, reaching around, teasing the nipple there, and the index finger of his right hand was ever so slowly pushing grease inside John's body.
"You seem to have quite a bit of experience in this, Mingo?" laughed John, feeling quite good under all the attention.
Mingo spread John's legs apart, making sure John could keep his balance. He positioned himself behind John, still touching, caressing with his left hand, kissing or licking with his tongue. He then inserted a second finger, stretching John ever so slowly. His left hand went to John's testicle, fickling, touching, teasing, and giving pleasure to counteract the pain of the stretch.
"I will not enter you until you feel ready to accept me, John. And I will pull out on your say so, immediately"
John was reacting with a racing pulse to Mingo tender ministration; what the Cherokee was doing to him was a balancing act between great pleasure and the pain, getting slighter and farther away with the stretching motion. John had been a homosexual man all his life, acting on it when possible. He had always considered the consequences of his way, after Culloden that is, when in a bit of recklessness he had almost gone overboard. His reputation and his family's reputation had always come first. His position in the world making him less than dispose to submit, so to speak, to a lover that he was not really in love with.
He started to moan in reaction to all the caresses bestowed on him by Mingo's slow patient loving. He felt the third long finger entered him and suddenly a flare of pleasure surged throughout his whole body. He was close to coming and Mingo had felt it. The Indian started to pleasure his penis alongside with the inside caress his fingers were doing and soon John came in long spurt on the ground below him.
"Mingo, you did not come inside me at all", blubbered the bewildered satiated Englishman.
"If you can catch your breath, my love, and managed to kneel still some more, I will. Trust me to do right by you. May I enter you now, John?" there was almost a begging tone to Mingo, John realized, feeling the large erection of the native touching his trembling thigh.
"Give me just a minute, Mingo. One minute, and I'll be strong enough to hold you" John told him. Mingo was taller, larger and heavier than John. It would require all his strength to support him.
Mingo's fingers were still imbedded inside John, still tickling him lightly. He was still kissing the Englishman's back, yet it was now Mingo who was trembling with need.
John's lifted one hand off the ground, to touch Mingo's arm lightly.
"Now, Mingo. Now."
Mingo slide smoothly inside John.
His roar of victory was echoed throughout the Cherokee valley below.
John laughed and came a second time, tears streaming down his cheeks, joy, relief, and a deep feeling of sharing overtaking him as his second orgasm took him beyond the river, the wind and the forest below. John had not known himself the feeling spreading from his inside; he had given it to some partners, being a patient lover himself. But the sensation of being filled, without being submissive, was new and fresh.

They had completed one another. They were equals, in love, in sharing, in their deeper needs.
John was free of his fear, at last.
The End
- 5
- 6
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Old Friends & Good Time