Chapter I
I was 19 years old when my father gave me "The Gift."
At that time I didn't know what it was and didn't know what to do with it, but it didn't matter. I respected my father and did what he told me to do. We were an unusual family, my father was a full-blooded Seminole Indian but didn't live with my Anglo mother and myself in Jacksonville, Florida but he visited frequently. When I was in school he often came during the day while I was away. Once in a while he came on the weekend and usually stayed overnight. My mother was deeply in love with him and, on these occasions, became giddy as a schoolgirl and beamed for days afterward. I know he took very good care of us and sent my mother quite a bit of money every month. While I was in high school, I learned that he was a very powerful medicine man and a key figure in the Seminole tribal council in South Florida.
He had met my mother while they were both students at Florida State University in Tallahassee where he had been an outstanding athlete. If she had gone to live with him after they were married, it would have been on the reservation in South Florida so they decided that she would live in Jacksonville, close to her family. She opened a small bookstore to keep herself busy and I worked there part time after school and on Saturday. We were closed on Sundays.
Although I was a big, handsome fellow, I was very slow to mature. My voice didn't begin to change until I was almost seventeen years old and by the time I turned nineteen I still hadn't seen the first hint of a whisker. My mother attributed it to my Native American heritage but I was aware that I was just not as masculine as my friends. Like my dad, I played football but was not as good as he had been.
On my nineteen birthday in early summer, just a few months before I was to start college, my father came to visit, bearing gifts. The strangest gift of all was a small, sealed container of what looked to be tea leaves.
His English was as good as or better than most so-called Americans but because of his involvement in Indian affairs and what the tourists expected, he had adopter a curt, very basic way of speaking. From his use of the language, you would never guess he had a PHD and had written numerous acclaimed books on Native American Culture, Medicines and Customs.
We were sitting at the kitchen table when he gave me the little canister and said, "My son, this gift is a powerful medicine that every young man needs. You are to make a hot beverage from the leaves every day. Although it is a little bitter, it is very good for you and will give you powers well beyond those of other young men. Be careful to take a cup every day and let me know when you need more."
Later, when I told my mother about this, she just smiled very knowingly and said, "Pay attention to your father, he does know what he is talking about. You should do exactly as he says. You will be much better for it."
The very next day I started my "tea" regimen. Within weeks I began to notice a very gradual change in my body. My hair, which was already long and black, became shinier and easier to take care of. My pubic hair and the hair under my arms became a little coarser. My voice deepened and I even noticed the first vestige of whiskers. There was a definite bulking out of my muscles. I assumed that the tea was some sort of a masculine tonic but I was soon to find it was far more than that.
Not long after I began to become aware of the changes, I was asked to be an usher at the wedding of one of my friend's older brother. The wedding went off without a hitch and I was having a good time at the reception in the hotel. One of the bridesmaids, Heidi, a girl I knew from school and thought was a hot number, dragged me up to dance with her. I'm not much of a dancer but we bounced around for a couple of fast numbers so I was relieved when they started a slower tune. I took her in my arms and was really getting into it, her body was soft and yielding and her perfume was intoxicating.
She seamed to enjoy the closeness and wilted into my arms, but suddenly, she stiffened and pushed away from me. She had a strange look in her eyes and her face was flushed. "What... What are you doing to me? I… I don't… I can't handle this!" Without another word, she ran off the dance floor leaving me standing there with half a hard on.
Dejectedly, I started off the floor only to be grabbed from behind by an older woman that I thought was the bride's aunt. With a chuckle in her voice she said, "I saw that! What did you do to that poor girl? Did you rub up against her? Come on, you can do it to me, I like it." With that, she grabbed my arm and twirled me back onto the dance floor.
Although she was much older than I, perhaps 35 or so, she was a very attractive, well-proportioned woman. She was tall, almost as tall as my 6' 2" in her heels. Her light brown hair framed a beautiful face, highlighting her rich tawny eyes and full red lips. She wasn't one of the bride's attendants but I had noticed her because she was wearing a gown similar to the rest of the wedding party. She wasn't kidding about the rubbing except she was doing it to me! She ground herself into me until my poor 19-year-old cock was hard as a hammer handle. She couldn't help but notice.
"Wow! You are something! Do you get like that every time you dance with a girl?" She hooked her arm into mine and headed us toward the patio. "Come on, let's get some air. I'm Alice, Joan's cousin from out of town, what's your name?"
