Bet that title's whetted your appetite and you're preparing yourself for some torrid tale about two corporals making it in the army barracks or something. Well I'm sorry to disappoint you but it's the name of a curve on the North Fork of the Payette river in the north of Idaho.

I spent the entire summer up there in a log cabin five years ago getting it on with one of my students. I went rafting several times and got to know about Jacob's Ladder and Bad Jose' and how to avoid Juicer and Cruncher and lots of other exotic sounding bends. And I risked all because I had the hots for a rugged rafter called Doug and had followed him there hoping to get laid.

The combination of Doug and the Payette Falls really got my adrenalin going. It also got my butt first wet and then busted. The water was icy cold but I persevered in the name of sport, both indoor and outdoor. The problem with me is that I always set my sights either too low and end up with some hunky woodcutter who beats even the original wham-bang-and-thanku-man or I pine over some unavailable stud and can't think of a way to get inside his pants. This story is of the latter kind.

Douglas F.F. Vale was one of my students and not the brightest of guys but he worked hard and I was determined to help him graduate. I was on an exchange visit from an English university. My subject was English Literature and Drama. The students were great but came from strictly religious homes and had high moral principles so I had to be very careful not to put a sexual foot wrong. Of course at weekends and half term holidays I could easily have flown to the fleshpots of San Francisco or Chicago to indulge myself but as I say I had set my sights on Douglas F.F. Vale.

The initials stood for Frank Freedom Fighter so there should have been three of them but anyway it gives you some idea of his family background. Also if I tell you he looked better than Brad Pitt after he had muscled up for "Troy" it should also give you some idea why I had the hots for him. One of the first things that struck me besides his looks was that he was impeccably clean. I know most Americans have at least one or two showers a day so that should have been no surprise but he positively glowed with health and cleanliness and I found that a real turn on. His hair, his teeth, his nails, his clothes. Everything about him was immaculate.

He even wrote neatly and his copybooks were a joy to read. In fact he shone in every respect except intelligence so wouldn't you know I made it my mission to help Freedom Fighter Frank improve his grades. I gave him extra stuff to do as homework and he stayed behind after school to go over it with me. Sometimes I sat at the desk next to his but more often than not he sat next to me and leaned over to see the corrections I'd made. He was a pretty physical guy so our shoulders and thighs often came into contact. It didn't seem to bother him much but I grew hard at every touch.

During the cold season he wore heavy woollen shirts but even these couldn't hide all the muscle inside. Then in summer his shirts became lighter or tighter and my dick grew bigger and brighter and couldn't wait to meet his. Of course some of these big guys often have the smallest of peckers but I was absolutely convinced that his was as long as his name Douglas Frank Freedom Fighter Vale. Hopefully even longer.

But after nearly nine months I was no further inside his pants than the day I met him and began to let myself fantasize about him. I gave him a small part in the spring production of ''Hamlet'' and made sure he wore one of those big open-chested blousy Shakespearian shirts. Naturally I took photos of the production and of course these included several horny close ups of Douglas F.F. Vale. They were digital so I could gloat over them on my pc.

I was afraid to have them printed out in case some inquisitive cleaning lady or somebody found them but I could blow them up on my laptop and take him to bed with me and examine his awesome contours to my heart's content, or maybe I should say my dick's content. As you can no doubt imagine, I jerked off several times at the sight of his terrific torso so close to my intimate parts.

Another time I got to see almost the Full Monty as he was also part of the swimming team. I didn't get any shots on that occasion but recorded every detail of his body mentally, especially the promising bulge in his swimsuit, and beat myself off several times to that too. I was only thirty-two and already turning into a regular pervert. I started going to the pool in the vain hope I'd run into him in the shower but no deal so I just pined hopelessly away for him. It didn't do me much harm either as I lost quite a few pounds and that helped keep my body in good shape. I went horse riding too and worked out in the gym. I wanted to look my best if I ever found myself naked in front of him. I had one important thing going for me though. Nature had endowed me with a good size dick. Douglas F.F. Vale might have the better body but I was sure I could compete with him there.

During one of our last homework sessions he mentioned to me that he was into rafting and had got a summer job in the North Fork. He told me he'd be happy to see me up there one day and be more than happy to teach me a few things for a change. Now was that an invitation or what? Of course I read into it all sorts of meanings that obviously weren't there but still the very next day I went out to book me a log cabin in Payette Falls. I found the whole place stunning, so beautiful and spectacular. I knew he wasn't there yet and wanted to try out my water wings before I made too much of a fool of myself in front of him. I took the rapids three times and fell in twice.

I wondered what kind of sex life he had. I'd never actually seen him with a girl friend but on the other hand I hadn't seen him with a boy friend either. In fact Idaho was such a conservative place that I got the idea most people would probably prefer a soda rather than sex any day.

I duly installed myself in my groovy log cabin. It may have been simple log outside but inside it had all the sophisticated comforts, including an enormous shower and hot tub. It was pretty secluded too in a wooded copse overlooking the river which I could hear cascading down as I lay in my mammoth double bed. Everything was perfect but for one thing. I felt such a lonesome cowpoke. Just like one of the seven brothers in that M.G.M. musical.

Next day I went in search of him and found him ushering a group of tourists onto a raft. He waved to me and told me to meet him there in two hours. That would make it nearly lunch time. I didn't know if he'd have time for lunch but I'd brought plenty of provisions with me and could probably offer him something. I wondered what kind of beer he liked or maybe he just drank orange juice or something. He was such a health freak.

I realized I knew almost nothing at all about him and wondered what the hell we would talk about but I was back in the same place in one hour and fifty minutes. He duly arrived wet from head to foot but rafters wear protective clothing and quickly dry out under the sun so I couldn't very well ask him back to my place and offer him a hot shower. Not the first day anyway. Still he was curious to see my log cabin and had forty minutes before the next trip so I took him back for a beer. He stripped down to his shorts and we sat in the sun. His big brown nipples looked like an extra pair of eyes on his tanned torso and the dimples at his hipline seemed to be smiling at me. My digital finger was itching to take more photos of him but once again I decided to cool it. I asked him where he was staying and he told me he was ''bunking down with the boys'' whatever that meant. I showed him around the cabin and noticed that he was impressed with the hot tub and shower. I didn't offer to let him use it. Thought I would wait for the right moment and hoped one would come along soon.

After nearly one year of agonizing and fantasizing I didn't know how long I could keep my hands off him. He said there was probably a free space at six and would I like to take it. I said I would and I did. It was my fourth time on a raft but this trip was particularly hairy and I was determined not to fall in this time. Doug kept shouting out instructions over the noise of the rapids and I was pretty exhausted when I got back. And wet through. I thought this might be the moment to ask him in for a shower but before I could do so he was surrounded by a group of friends and waving me goodbye.

I had a quick shower myself then fixed myself something to eat. I must have fallen asleep looking at television for the next thing I knew there was a sound like a dog scratching at my door and there was Doug saying he'd come to pay me a visit. I was probably lonely in this great big cabin all by myself. He asked me if I didn't have a wife or girl friend or something and I said no, I was gay. He said he thought so and kissed me.

Nothing could have surprised or delighted me more and it was all so unexpected. I don't know what made me tell him I was gay. It could have sent him running straight out the door. But I'm glad I did. It broke the ice. Even so he had a hard time calling me Callan instead of sir. He told me he'd come to ask me if he could use the hot tub but he didn't mind trying my king size bed out for size if that was alright only he'd have to get up early in case somebody saw him coming out of my cabin. I said "Anything," and kissed him back. It was all so easy. All so right and all exactly as I had imagined it would be. Only better. And I'd been worried we'd have nothing to talk about.

I filled the hot tub and before I could even turn round he was a flash of flesh before me. Like something out of a dream. And his dream of a dick was dancing. So was mine. I was still in my bathrobe so we were soon in the tub together. He told me that he was serious about the hot tub as his muscles ached after four trips. I took this as an invitation to massage his back and did so. I got right behind him and he wormed his way in between my legs and I could feel his butt against my dick. Everything happened so naturally. One moment I was massaging his shoulders and relieving his tired muscles (with a little help from the bath oil) and the next he was opening his ample ass to relieve my (anything but tired) central muscle with the help of no oil at all. In fact he sucked me in like a sluice gate. After a while I feared the rest of me was going to follow. All that rafting had obviously put extra power in his butt. The water frothed and bubbled and we frothed and bubbled with it. It wasn't the easiest way to make love to somebody but for me it certainly was original. I'd never come underwater before. It was a completely new experience for me. We wallowed in the surging water and in each other. It was long and slow, and so relaxing.

It gave us both quite an appetite too. After we'd dried off in front of the fire, I put some steaks on the grill and opened a bottle of red wine. Then we slipped into bed and slept. At least he did. I kept slipping in and out of sleep having erotic dreams. The only one I can remember is off my butt being beaten raw by an angry student with a huge cane. I woke with a start to find something hard as a rock wedged between my butt cheeks. Doug was already working his way in there. Once again he was surprising me. I also surprised myself. Even before my eyelids had fully opened my ass lips had been fluttering wantonly, thirsty for his cock. I gasped. I knew it was going to hurt but my hungry hole didn't care. Open wide seemed to be the operative word. I gasped again as he pressed into me. It burned. Oh God how it burned. I felt like I was being split in two. Cleft by the devil. With all the fires of hell searing my butt. It hurt and it burned but fuck how I wanted it. My stalwart student didn't say a word. He seemed to be concentrating all his mental and physical resources on prising my butt open, intent on the prize of fucking the ass off his teacher. I got a perverse pleasure out of the thought of it and relaxed a little but gasped yet again as he slid in another inch, and then another. I arched my ass to accommodate him. The sheer heat and size of him was turning my insides to molten marshmallow which began to ebb and flow and erupt around his joy stick.

He made me so hot and horny that I could feel my ass pursing its lips with pleasure. I felt like an oyster ready to surrender its pearl to a dashing young diver and relaxed my sphincter for a moment. He took advantage of that moment to slide in to the hilt, burying his hard cock into my rectum and spearing the pulse of my being. He lunged and he plunged and I took off for another stratosphere. Hell suddenly became heaven. The friction still burned but at the same time it felt so good. He remained still for a moment as if content with his prize. Then just when I thought it was all over, he began to move his cock in and out of me like a piston, making me hiss between my teeth. Sometimes with pleasure, more often with pain.

The air was filled with the sound of deep breathing, low moaning and the smell of sex. Not a word was spoken. He kneaded my butt like dough as if trying to make the perfect pizza out of my ass. I lay there trying to take it all in. I couldn't help comparing his endless dick with the long ladle the pizza guy keeps putting in the hot oven. Finally he said, "I love watching my cock fill your hole." My male pussy purred with pleasure and tightened its hold on him He brought me to my knees so I was literally sitting on his lap like the family pet. He stroked my chest and brought my nipples to full fruition. He nibbled my ear and nuzzled my neck and my ass stretched out like a lap-dancer to greet the heat of him. These moments of domestic comfort and tenderness were short lived however. Soon he began to build up speed and I was riding his dick like a fiery unbroken steed. Animal and anal images merged and morphed into one as he suddenly turned into a full horned stampeding beast and started fucking me wild and hard. In front and behind. He rhythmically fist-fucked the mushroom head of my bursting dick while his own sturdy stem ravaged me with fast, deep, powerful strokes. By now I couldn't get enough of him. I sat back to take my punishment, sinking down hard onto his even harder cock which, crowing and growing, responded by pulsing, penetrating and pulverizing my ass hole. "Fuck me you fucker," I cried as if his dick was making no impression on my ass at all. This seemed to spur him to greater heights. He let out a primal roar which almost deafened me as he buried himself balls deep in what now seemed a bottomless pit and sent me shuddering and hollering to the skies as he filled my ass with the hot creamy jets of his jizz and milked my delirious dick till there was not a drop of juice left in it.

We collapsed in a sticky heap and fell asleep, too tired to move another muscle. Even my fastidious friend didn't have the strength nor the inclination to take a shower. Next day, I was awoken by the sun shining through the window and the sound of water. It was after six. I lay savouring the smell of Doug on the sheets and on the pillow and listened to him singing under the shower. I decided to join him. He smiled a greeting as I entered the bathroom. Words were superfluous. We had said it all with our bodies. We washed each other down tenderly and became hard again instantly. He looked so beautiful with the shower drops sparkling on his body. Some instinct told me to get my camera. He seemed surprised but posed willingly and let me take some horny shots. By the time I'd finished my dick badly needed servicing. So did his. He said he was dying for some orange juice and also a little dick juice but couldn't decide in what order. His simple solution was to cover my dick with orange juice. He sucked away like a contented child and naturally wanted me to do the same to him. It was juvenile and it was fun and a perverse turn on.

I kissed him gratefully. His tongue was cool and fresh in my mouth like a trout swimming upstream. I told him so. This unfortunately reminded him that it was time to go rafting again. I made him some coffee and saw him to the door like a happy housewife seeing her hunk of a husband off to work. There was a deer outside waiting for breakfast. I fed it some cereal from the breakfast table as I watched Doug make his way down to the raft station. Then I stretched out in the sun feeling a warm wave of gratitude sweep over me. Gratitude for Doug and for my heavenly surroundings. In my relentless quest to possess him I hadn't thought for one moment that it would be more than a case of my ''getting into his pants'' as I had so vulgarly put it, but rather a case of him getting under my skin.

Things between us had gone so smoothly right from the moment I'd admitted I was gay. Everything had been perfectly natural. Conversation and our sexual juices had flowed and the seven or eight hours together had flown. I missed him already. I decided to look at the photos I'd taken. I transferred them to my computer. He was so beautiful. Not very bright maybe but so beautiful.

His wet body glistened in the sunlight and his mahogany torso and nutcracker legs formed the perfect frame for the awesome 'still life' of his mouth-watering dick and dimpled donut of a butt. I couldn't believe they were finally mine to have and to hold, not just images on the wall or in my mind. I didn't want to embarrass him in front of his friends or, even worse, in front of his employers so I decided not to go rafting that day. I walked along the river and through the wood and found a store where I stocked up on beer and easy to cook things. I prepared dinner and waited but he didn't come home. Soon I had pangs in my stomach. Pangs of fear not hunger. I knew something must be wrong and kicked myself for not giving him my mobile phone number or asking for his. Still, surely he would have called the cabin if something had happened. I really couldn't understand it.

I spent a sleepless night and went straight to the rafting station early the next day. He'd had an accident. He'd fallen out of the raft and been dashed against a rock. He had concussion and possibly a broken leg or ankle. Now I had pangs of guilt. He'd obviously been tired and lacking in concentration. That had never been one of his strongest points. I asked for directions to the hospital. It wasn't exactly near but I was there in forty minutes. The nurse said he couldn't receive visitors so I gave her both my numbers and told her I was his university professor. I asked her to have him call me as soon as possible. I returned home worried and depressed. Three long weeks stretched before me and I wondered whatever I was going to do with all that time on my hands. Already I couldn't live without him.

He called next day. Said he felt like shit and when was I coming to visit him. This time I made it in thirty three minutes precisely. His beautiful face was black and blue and he had his leg in plaster. He told me his parents were on holiday in Europe and wouldn't be back for three weeks. I made an instant decision. As his university professor I was responsible for him and I asked the doctor when I could sign him out. He said within one or two days. I signed him out the very next day and an ambulance took him to my log cabin. Once again we were together and this time it was legitimate.

There was a guest room and he was officially installed in there. Of course we had to be careful, as friends and well wishers were continually passing by, but at night I carried him back to my bed even though I could have just as easily used the wheel chair they'd left him. I wanted him in my arms and in my bed. I'd read an autobiography once by Shelley Winters in which she'd mentioned looking after Marilyn Monroe when she broke her leg while making ''River of No Return'' on the Snake River not far from where we were now. I told Doug about it and soon he was calling me Winters and I was calling him Monroe although we soon switched to Marilyn and Shelley when we were making love depending on who had the dominant position. We changed roles constantly. I loved being fucked by him and he loved being fucked by me. It was difficult at the beginning, his leg being stretched out and in plaster so I was mostly Shelley and had to sit on his dick and ride him. No disrespect to Shelley Winters. She'll always be one of my favourite actresses and I'm sure she wouldn't have minded my using her name in vain. I know she did a lot of sexual riding herself in her day and would probably forgive me. Anyway it sure was great.

We'd play a sexual version of William Tell. I'd lift my juicy apple ass high in the air and tease his dick with it and he'd use his strong muscular arms to support him while he impaled his arrow in me. Then, leg in plaster or no, he made papier mache out of my butt. Other times we played bucking fucking bronco but the effect was the same. It was usually my butt that got broken. Impossible to conceive that ten days ago I'd been Professor Smedley-Smith and he'd been Douglas F.F. Vale. They took the plaster off sooner than expected but replaced it with an elasticized bandage. It made him more mobile and flexible in bed but the doctor warned him to keep the weight off his foot and use a crutch. I needed a crutch myself after some of the butt busting sessions. During the quiet moments we'd nestle up against each other and have pillow talk and true confessions and he'd tell me that he'd set his cap at me right from the very start and that he wasn't half as dumb as I thought he was and that all that extra homework was just an excuse to be with me. It was my turn to give his ass a really good working over that night. Then I told him how I'd coveted his body and about all my devious devices to get inside his pants especially as his brain left something to be desired and he gave my ass a really good working over this time and threatened to never let me inside him again.

We talked about how difficult it was to come out of the closet in such a conservative state as Idaho and tried to decide who was gay on the faculty. Of course I asked him if he'd ever done it with another teacher and he grabbed hold of my dick and started to throttle it so I knew the answer was no and kissed him. I let my tongue linger in his mouth and my hand run up and down his spectacular body as if I was scanning it and recording it to memory. Which I suppose I was because, as the days sped by, part of me was living the moment but the other part was dreading the time I'd be without him. Jerking off in front of his photos and missing him and his body so.

I told him how I was feeling and he promised me that day would never come. But he was eighteen and not yet wise to the ways of the world and I was nearly twice that. I knew life can be a bitch sometimes. Still he wanted to make plans and asked if I could arrange it so he could come over to study languages in Europe. I said that judging from the photos I'd taken of him he had a future as a porno star. He glared at me angrily. I'd never seen him so upset or so furious. I'd obviously hit a raw nerve. "There you go again," he snarled. "Thinking of me as some dick head without a brain."

I kissed him apologetically hoping I hadn't hurt his feelings. I silently told myself that the road to happiness consisted in keeping my ass open and my mouth closed. As if to confirm that, he brought his tongue out of my mouth and down my body and was soon giving me untold pleasure. He explored every inch of me with his tongue and seemed to know just exactly where to find my erogenous zones. Occasionally he drove me absolutely wild because he would arrive at a part of my anatomy where I was particularly sensitive and hesitate a moment until I was sure he was going to miss it or go on somewhere else and my body would begin to bristle and brace and buck in a torture of frustrated anticipation. Then just when I was about to resign myself and mentally say forget it, he was there sending hot and cold chills through me. He smiled in satisfaction at the effect he was having on me and then began to bring me to a roaring climax by paying a second lightning visit to my erotic ports of call.

Once, as I writhed and squirmed in prolonged ecstasy he brought his mouth down on my dick and started sucking me off like I'd never been sucked off before. He seemed to know my body better than I knew it myself. I grabbed his head and screamed, "Don't stop, don't stop," at which he sadistically stopped. He threw my legs over my head and stabbed my butt with a venom. First with his vibrant tongue and then with his vibrating dick. He literally fucked the fucking ass off me.

I lost all control of my bones and my limbs and my senses and felt my eyes roll back in my head in absolute bliss. Afterwards, I lay there worshipping him in a puddle of our cum, I felt both like the proverbial dog who'd been given the bone and the cat that had got the cream. I loved him and adored him. Master had become slave. I was his forever.

But some animal instinct in me sensed something was very wrong. He looked at me strangely, almost contemptuously, and said with the satisfaction of a student who knows he's passed his exam, "Now tell me I haven't got a brain!"

I promised him I would never insult him again. But something told me it was too late. He never ever fucked me like that again and the joy went out of our love making. In a week or so he was on his feet and ready to go back to work and also back to "bunking down with the boys."

I went rafting once or twice and he came to visit but things were never really the same between us. Marilyn and Shelley had slipped quietly into the shadows.

At the end of the summer I said goodbye to Pectoralis Major and wondered sadly whether Doug would really join me in England for Christmas. I already saw myself sitting in front of a lonely Christmas tree looking at photos of him on my computer. Only a few weeks ago he'd promised me that day would never come ......... but never is a long time.