In 1985, shortly after my thirteenth birthday, I graduated in the scouting ranks...from the lowly Cub to the more mature Boy Scout. Gone were the blue shirts, the blue slacks, the blue shorts, the blue socks and the blue cap. Here to stay (for a while, anyway) were the olive greens...the long-sleeved and short-sleeved shirts, the slacks, shorts, below-the-calf and knee socks and the much more handsome, military-style cut cap. Here to stay, too, were all the medals that I had earned during my time as a Cub Scout. During the next five years, I intended to earn much more.
During the next five years, too, I was going to get to meet other scouts from around the world...something I was not able to do while I was a Cub Scout. Because when you're a Cub Scout, you're too busy learning things like arts and crafts and respect for your elders...such as helping old people cross the street. But, when you're a Boy Scout, you get to attend something called a "jamboree"...sort of a hootenanny or get-together for Boy Scouts. You get to learn customs from other countries...such as eating with chopsticks, learning foreign languages (of which I was already far ahead in), and other things.
You also get to perform physical abilities...such as gymnastics and other things taught in physical education classes in school. One of my favorites was what we called the "butterfly stretch". This was my particular favorite because I got to do it while wearing my shorts and knee socks. In this exercise, you got down on your stomach with your arms at your sides. Then, you arched your arms, legs and chest off the floor. While you were still in this position, you swung your arms out so that they were stretched out before you, at the same time raising your head to look at your outstretched hands. All this time, you would be resting all your weight on your penis...and, if Lady Luck was on your side, your balls would become so agitated that you would cum in your underwear.
Another thing I learned at these jamborees was that there were other Boy Scouts who loved what I did...masturbating and ejaculating while laying face down in shorts and fornicating the back of the knees of other boys. This was the chance for us to sample what I and one scout from France called "haute echantillon"...high-class tasting of foreign "foods".
So, one day, I got together with the boys from other countries...Francois Dunois from Marseilles, France...Abdullah ibn Nazrahi from Cairo, Egypt...Zheng Quo from Beijing, China...Nikolai Popov from Stalingrad, U.S.S.R....Christian Petterson from Konigsberg, Norway...Nguyen Cao Li from Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam...Stefan Gustaffson from Uppsala, Sweden...Brian Winstead from Salisbury, England...Pieter Van Ruijven from Amsterdam, The Netherlands...Akira Takashima from Hokkaido, Japan...Aldo Ciccorelli from Bari, Italy...and Paul Gibson from Hobart, Tasmania. All of them handsome and physically fit, with legs every inch as muscular as mine...well, as muscular as fourteen-year-old boys' legs could be.
We made a pact that we would meet at a location unknown to the other scouts and scoutmasters...unless Mr. Michaels chose to join us...as well as wear our mid-thigh shorts and below-the-calf socks, long-sleeved shirts and respective caps. Each one of us was also required to bring something with which to bind our feet together. When we were hiking in the mountains, we found a secluded spot...so secluded, in fact, that not even the birds knew where it was. And it was at this secluded spot that we chose to...do our thing.
We stood looking each other up and down, admiring the quality of what we were showing off and offering to have, shall we say, tasted. Each one of us had scrubbed our legs clean prior to attending the jamboree...and we shall scrub them clean each time we shower to make them palatable for each consecutive meeting-in-seclusion.
Standing on the moss-covered ground, we dropped to our knees, after which we took the "binder" we brought with us to bind the feet of the boy whose thighs, knees and calves we would be "tasting". Then, like precision dancers or swimmers, we pitched forward onto our stomachs, our mouths making contact with the back of the legs of the boy who lay prone before us. My mouth hovered over Francois's legs, Francois's over Abdullah's, Abdullah's over Quo's, Quo's over Nikolai's, Nikolai's over Christian's, Christian's over Cao Li's, Cao Li's over Stefan's, Stefan's over Brian's, Brian's over Pieter's, Pieter's over Akira's, Akira's over Aldo's, Aldo's over Paul's...and Paul's over mine! We were all grateful that the jamboree lasted two weeks. That way...no two boys fornicated, licked or bit the same legs more than one day!
Variety was the spice of life!!! And it was also the key to our fun!
And the timing couldn't have been more convenient. After each roll call, we would sneak off into the forest to our secluded spot. That way, none of us would ever be missed. We would always have our fun...kissing, licking and fondling the exposed meat that lay before us...and be back before you would know it! After morning roll call, we would eat breakfast...and then it was off into the wood for an hour of kissing, licking and fingering the back of a beautiful pair of boy-legs. After afternoon roll call, we would eat lunch...and sneak off to our secluded spot, again to kiss, lick and touch skin. After evening roll call, we would eat dinner...and have our dessert in the forest. And, what a dessert it would be!!! We would not only kiss, lick and touch the exposed legs that lay before us...but bite it as well, leaving indelible teeth marks on our thighs, knees and calves that, hopefully, would disappear before dawn. Then, it would be back to our respective tents for lights out.
When it came time for all of us to return to our respective countries, we exchanged addresses and telephone numbers. But, we always vowed that we would return each consecutive summer while we were Boy Scouts to have our fun in our secluded section in the forest. And, we always did...for the next three years.
I don't know whether my friends went on to become Explorer Scouts. I know I did...and I had to find new friends. But, I would always cherish the Boy Scout jamborees...and the "tastes" of other countries.
Oh, I neglected to mention...Mr. Michaels never chose to join us. But, I have an inkling he knew what was going on...from certain gestures he gave me when school started again. But, I wish he would have come to our meetings-in-seclusion. He would have loved it. And, I know the other boys would have loved having him there.
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