Tatawaw

©2009 Herb Cat. Do not reproduce or distribute this story without the author's permission.

As an author, I welcome feedback from readers. Please send any comments about this story, positive or negative, to Herbcatwriter@yahoo.com. Thank you.

.oOo.
Chapter 5 - In the mood for action

I feast on eggs and toast and Canadian bacon, as the two boys watch me, gobbling syrupy pancakes and drinking soda. The brothers from India go running by in their red parkas, but stop to greet me. Hermie already knows their names. "Buenos días, Kumar, Tito."

Kumar is 8, Tito 13. "Hi Hermie! Having lots of fun?"

Paul brags, "I just teached Hermie how to suck cock. He watch me sucks Larry."

"Wow. That's cool. Sorry, we gotta go." And just as fast, they were gone.

"So little Hermie's already learning the ropes." Shumba walks in. "Ropes of cum, I mean," he snickers. Several superlatives apply to Shumba. At 15, he is now the oldest boy in the house. Also the boy who's been here the longest, and the darkest, having emigrated from South Africa nine years ago. And the one with the largest cock, nearly eight inches of black steel. Shumba is wearing his own jeans, with deliberate rips in the knees and ass, and a leather vest, open to show off his adolescent chest rug, and work boots. A typical teenager, he considers himself too grown up to parade around in official garb. He doesn't get too many requests from guests, mainly those who want a big black young hunk to make bottoms out of them. I've had his handsome thick ebony cock up my ass a few times and it never fails to satisfy. Shumba keeps busy helping out around the house, and preparing for his high school exams. He's planning on going to Selkirk College in British Columbia to study hotel management. Most of our graduates end up in some branch of the tourism industry, capitalizing on what they've learned here about satisfying visitors. "Oh, I almost forgot. Paul, Dr. Yam wants to see you before he leaves."

"Shit, Shumba, why didn't you tells me!" Paul scampers away, his kimono flying.

"I just did." He steals a toast off my plate and winks at Hermie, who giggles. "Come on, Hermie. Let's let the old man eat his breakfast." He takes the boy's hand.

"Where are you taking him?"

"To the gym. I'm gonna teach him to play basketball."

"Like that?"

"Do I look like a fuckin idiot? We'll change into our gym clothes, right. Hermie?" The younger boy smiles and nods, not knowing what the hell was said.

I head back to my room to send Fr. Ricardo an e-mail. Tell him how well Hermie is adjusting to his new home and new family. The good priest will be pleased.

A few hours later, I am properly dressed in my official clothes, but my cock is calling for attention again, so I decide to see whatever tight young ass is available. I head for the security room. Marshall is on duty. "Hi, Marshall. Who's free now?" We scan the monitors together. I see Shumba and Hermie still playing in the gym. "Has Shumba taught him anything other than basketball?"

"No, Chip dropped by before and asked him if he wanted a fuck but Shumba said no."

"Well, I do. But Chip and Shumba are too old. I need a tight one. Too bad Hermie isn't broken yet."

"Yeah, we're all looking forward to using his ass. Let's see, Paul is still with Dr. Yam. They finished fucking, oh, ten minutes ago." Right now they're enjoying a loving hug and kiss. "You want me to rewind?"

"No thanks. I'm in the mood for my own action. What's Vasily doing now?" I think about that night last week.

"He and Glenn went cross-country skiing with a couple guests. Probably won't be back 'til suppertime." Glenn, age 10, came from Montreal last year. "And Kumar and Tito went Christmas shopping with Jerry."

"Yeah, they seemed to be in a big hurry when I saw them earlier." Jerry teaches math. "Among other gifts, I know Tito will be looking for something to give his boy friend. Since the start of the ski season, he's been seeing Harold, a nice young man from the ski patrol. When he's not entertaining one of our guests, Comley lets Tito go off premises if he wants, to spend the night with Harold up at Marmor Basin. It seems to be serious.

"Ah, yeah, here's little Juan. He's just getting started with that guest from Germany. But there are five others in the rec room watching TV. See? One of them should do the trick." Marshall suddenly realizes his unintended pun and we both laugh. I thank him for his help and head briskly for the rec room.

None of the preteen boys are really involved in the show on TV, some lame sitcom. Janek, the eight-year old from Poland is competing with Travis on the Wii. Whenever one of them scores, they start punching each other good-naturedly.

Adrian, a Chinese lad from the Philippines a year younger than Travis, is studying. He is a quiet boy, extremely obedient to his elders. He is not the most popular boy, regarded by his peers as a Miss Goody Twoshoes.

Finally, Chitto and Bullie are telling private jokes and laughing their asses off. These two brothers come from the Cree nation. Over the years, a number of Cree boys have gone through our training. "Tatawaw" itself is a Cree word meaning, "Welcome," which Comley thought was an appropriate name for this unique establishment. Chitto ("Brave One") is eleven and his little brother, Chebona Bula ("Laughing Boy"), who is known to everyone as Bullie, is six. Once a week, they attend a Cree language lesson by satellite to maintain their heritage, so they're often jabbering away in their own private tongue.

Janek stops playing when he sees me come in. "Hey, Larry! Did you have a good trip?"

Travis pipes up, not waiting to hear about my travels. "Hermie is swell. I like him a lot. Comley caught me talking to him in Spanish and told me not to."

"Yes, he needs to learn English. Can any of you fine boys spare me an hour? I can see you're all very busy."

Adrian laughs at my droll wit. "What do you need, Larry?"

"I need a nice tight boy ass to fuck. I've gone a whole week and I need one bad!"

Travis, Janek and Chitto laugh and start chanting, "Larry needs a fuck! Larry needs a fuck!"

"Shit, Larry, if you're all that desperate, I suppose I can give you some time," says Chitto like he is granting me some huge favor, the cheeky little redskin.

"No! Fuck me! Fuck me! I want Larry to fuck me!" Dear sweet little Bullie, jumps, his shirt half out of his pants. He isn't yet jaded. Men have been fucking the little six-year old for only a couple months and he still thinks it's the greatest thing since wampum. He grabs my leg and starts petting my package. "Please, Larry, Please?"

I look down at his straight black hair, still long in back and gathered in a pony tail. "You bet, Bullie! You know you're my favorite." I look at the other four. Adrian has already picked up his book. Chitto and Travis sneer at me, and Janek sticks out his tongue.

.oOo.

As an author, I welcome feedback from readers. Please send any comments about this story, positive or negative, to Herbcatwriter@yahoo.com. Thank you.