Chapter Three
According to my dad, love was something that was highly overrated.
So phooey on him. I was closer to my mom anyway. Even if it wasn't quite like “How Green Was My Valley” or anything like that, I could talk to her. When my best friend since kindergarten moved across the country halfway through the second grade, she was the one who assured me that I'd find another friend, maybe not the same as Dustin, but possibly as good or better in other ways, and it turned out that she was right. Only from my experience, good friends were constantly moving off to some place else. I'm not feeling sorry for myself – or at least I don't think I am - I'm just stating the way things had always been.
But it was also my mom who once told me that I was too young to know what love was. I was twelve then, so maybe she was right. Even if when we had that little talk, I didn't go into specifics about who the person who'd broken my heart was. And actually, I wasn't so much broken-hearted over Sean as I was pissed off because he'd turned out to be such a chicken shit.
I guess I can understand how he might have gotten stressed out after reading that story he found on the Internet, though. It was about a thirteen-year-old in Maryland who found himself under arrest not long after reading one of those “what's happening to me?” type books. This book said that sexual experimentation between boys was perfectly normal, so armed with that information he'd experimented with a younger friend, only his friend's parents found out and the next thing the thirteen-year-old knew he was in juvenile, on the verge of being a registered sex offender for the rest of his life, unable to live at home any longer because of there being younger siblings in his family... and my initial reaction was: “They have lost their minds! Totally!”
But while Sean thought so too, now he was afraid that he could be arrested because of our experimentation.
So I assured him that I wasn't going to breathe a word to anybody and I wouldn't have because I wanted to experiment some more. But noo. I couldn't believe it, but from then on, no more fun. Shit!
I didn't mention any of that to my mom, though, I was just talking in general terms about things because, after all, she'd said a few months earlier that it was okay if I was gay – even if I might grow out of it – but if I was, well, I was. It wasn't the end of the world or anything like that. So of course I was glad to have all that settled, but my next question was...
Well, in general terms, how long was it likely to be until I'd be able to do any of the things gay boys usually do?
Only if you're limiting yourself to generalities, you shouldn't be expecting a direct answer. But okay, my ultimate goal was to find someone to love, someone who would love me as much as I loved him, and that much hadn't changed, I was still looking for that one boy.
Even if I knew from experience that there were a lot of boys that I could have fallen in love with. I was in love with a boy about my age playing an electric organ on a street corner for almost a week. I never knew his name, but if I could have found some way of talking to him it might have been something wonderful. And in a story I made up, it was. I was thinking about sending it off, but I didn't because actually I sort of borrowed some stuff and only rearranged the facts a little. I really liked it, though, because we got to the good parts in a hurry!
Some of my favorite stories were set in English boarding schools. I have the impression that what once went on in some of those schools no longer does nearly as much because the adults in charge are less likely to look the other way, but back in the sixties and seventies... OMG. Just boys, living together with their hormones running amok and not a girl in sight. Most of those boys would probably end up getting married – not all of them, but most – but what we had in those stories was sex without any guilt, because that's just how things were.
And I hoped that was the way things could still be. I'd find love eventually, but until then playing around with boys I liked would do very nicely.
Like with Carlie, for instance. We finished watching “Jurassic Park” around 11:30, about an hour after his dad got in and said he was calling it a night. As for me, well, my attention was starting to wander because I was thinking ahead to when we'd be going to bed. I didn't know if there was going to any more to it than us being naked again, but I was still looking forward to it. And besides, you never can tell.
Only once the movie was over, he said, “Let's go downstairs for a little while. Want to?”
Well, since I hadn't been in their basement yet I shrugged and answered, “Yeah, I guess.” I wasn't sure if I caught a hint of impending kinky behavior in his voice, but at least it wasn't likely to involve another ride in his car. (Cars like that don't get good gas mileage. Six mpg, he said. So until he could find a way of making a little extra or got his next allowance, “Thank you, Jesus.” He really was a good driver and it was fun once it was over, but...)
But we went downstairs and he asked, “Ever wrestle?” and there it was, a wrestling mat, out in the middle of the floor.
So yes!- but I answered, “Yeah, a little.”
Carlie said, “I'm going out for wrestling next year, and if you're still here, maybe you could too, because I don't think they got anybody in your weight class, so I can show you some good moves.”
So of course I said okay and he let me take the offensive position first, which meant he was kneeling on the floor with his hands and knees spread apart. Then I knelt beside him and wrapped an arm around his waist. All he had on was shorts (along with his socks, but still no underwear), and that's all I had on as well. And we were going to wrestle!
“Now put the palm of your hand up against my navel,” he instructed.
I was a little shaky, but I took a deep breath and said, “You mean like this?” I hadn't felt his navel before. Or his lower abdomen. I could almost feel the heat radiating – or was that me? - well, whatever – but I could also feel myself starting to get hard again. So I was wondering if I should mention it.
Carlie giggled and then he said, “I got a boner. Maybe because I haven't ever wrestled like this before. But anyway, ready, set, go!”
So there wasn't much warning on that deal either, and he pinned me on my back in about five seconds. But what I mean is, he'd pinned my shoulders to the mat. So match over, right? That's how it was in P.E., but no, he just plopped on top of me, right between my legs. And my knees were drawn up, so I think that's called the missionary position. And he had a boner all right, but I was a bit disconcerted.
Well, actually, I was a lot – because it was unexpected and because I wasn't sure if I was supposed to let on about how interesting it was – but he laughed and said, “You got one, too.”
I managed, “Well, you're not helping it any.” I'm sure I sounded shaky, but he was looking right into my eyes. So if going soft was supposed to be the objective, that didn't help either. And beyond that, I was trying to send some signals back. I hadn't tried with my eyes before, at least not consciously, but I guess it worked because he said, “Oh yeah? Well, let's see if this helps,” and he reached inside my shorts and grabbed my dick! First time Sean wrapped his hand around it, ZOWIE! It was like an electric shock. Only this one felt even better. It's hard to compare, honestly, but I think the one Carlie gave me just about topped everything. (I'd felt a few shocks with Stephan too. We had our boxers on, but...)
Well, who knows, but I squeaked, “Oh, so that's how you want to play!” and I grabbed at the front of his shorts, pulled down and yanked on his dick like it was the handle on a slot machine.
And I came close to hitting the jackpot.
Well, I must've, because a shocked look crossed his face and he squeaked, “God! You almost did it!” But he didn't look to be particularly upset about it. He did let go of me, though. Slowly, but he did and of course that wasn't really what I had in mind.
He rolled off and I was... well, like I said, I was still mostly in foreign territory. So even though he started it, I didn't know what I was supposed to do next. But I was still trying to send some more eye signals, so I rolled over on my side facing him, grinned tentatively and asked, “So you want to some more? You didn't give me time to get ready last time. ... And you do outweigh me” - (like this was really about wrestling) - “but let's do it again. Want to?”
“Well, all right, but this time I start out on top, and... you want to wrestle naked? That's how the ancient Greeks used to do it, so you want to try that?”
That's when I knew for sure. I didn't know how far we were going, but it's like I said, you take the thrills that are available. Thing was, though, I got the impression that he thought he was leading me on, that now he had a boy he could play some sex games with...
So he'd caught me and we wrestled some more. Only this time it didn't take long to figure out that he was only pretending to wrestle – so I pretended I was – because basically, we were just feeling each other off. He kept trying to keep me under control, but now the main objective was to touch as many interesting places as he could. It really felt good, so of course I didn't try too hard to extricate myself. I could say that I didn't try at all, but it seemed like we were supposed to keep pretending that we were wrestling. It got tricky at times because, needless to say, he had some interesting places as well. But it felt like the most wonderful thing in the world. I'd done stuff like that with Sean and Stephan, but I still couldn't quite believe what was going on: it was like, “Oh my God”... and it kept getting better, because it wasn't long until we weren't bothering to pretend, we were just feeling off each other big time, and I could tell that he was liking it as much as I was, so that made it even better!
Except maybe he was still pretending... to um, pretend – so when I started pulling on his dick – and it did feel looser than mine or Sean's – but when I started doing that, in a breathless, husky tone of voice, he said, “Uh, I think that might be... against the rules... oh... shit.”
And that's an exact quote. So I could tell that he didn't care if it was against the rules of interscholastic wrestling or not and I just kept pulling.
Then he started pulling on mine, so I knew he wasn't concerned about anything except what I was doing to him and what he was doing to me – and I was proud of myself because I was the one who'd taken the initiative – but then he managed, “Hey... you want to make... time out a second, okay? ... Don't let go, but... I got an idea, okay? So let's hit the pause button, okay?”
So I did. “Yeah? What?”
He took a deep breath. “That feels good! ... But anyway... let's make it like a contest and see who can make the other one shoot first, okay?”
Well, that sounded like a cool competition and with another “on your mark, get set go” we were off to the races again. Only once again it was an uneven contest, because it took me longer to get my pump primed. But it didn't take him any time at all. Five or six strokes, I think. So I was thinking I was going to be the big winner, because I'd be flexing my toes and writhing in ecstasy for ever so much longer, but right after he popped, he pulled his hand away and said breathlessly, “Looks like I won. ... But I'll give you another chance tomorrow, okay?” And the thing was, I was getting close, but it wasn't there yet. So I was feeling let down and was also starting to entertain some dark fears of having just been used.
And I must have looked it, because after a short pause he said, “I'm just kidding.”- snicker - “Now let's see how much longer this is going to take.”
It was awesome. That doesn't come close to how it really felt, but at any rate, I was in love again! It might not have been real love, but it was close enough.
So now I was in love with two boys. Or at least I thought I might be. Carlie and Stephan. I couldn't forget Stephan just like that, there was no way. Not even if we were 1850 miles apart.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I'd only known him for three months, and the only reason was because his father probably had the most money invested in my dad's scheme. So that put me in an awkward position. You knock on their door and, still in shock, his father or his mom opens the door, and “Oh, it's you! How's life treating you, Nathaniel? I'm afraid we've seen better days, ourselves, but never mind all that.” Followed by a short pause, and then, “We're ruined, Nathaniel, all because of your father! And you have the nerve to show up at a time like this? Well, Stephan isn't here, he's either out begging on the streets or he's at a homeless shelter, so just leave!”
I didn't know about them being ruined until two days later when I was already in Orlando and I saw his mom being interviewed on TV, though. But I tried to call him. I wanted to tell them I was sorry, only his cell phone had been cut off. Then I tried emailing him, but he never answered. It didn't get bounced back, so apparently he still had his account, but...
Stephan Traffanstedt was nice and well-mannered and so was I. We'd been brought up that way. First time I saw him was at a party my dad was throwing for his best customers, and I noticed him right off. And, thankfully, he noticed me too, so not long afterwards he walked up and introduced himself and then he laughed self-consciously and asked, “Are you as bored as I am? I hate these `little get-togethers', don't you?”and just like that, we hit it off.
Being nice and well-mannered and from a good family has its drawbacks, though. It's not the same as being royalty or a Rockefeller, but it's at least remotely close. So if by chance, you meet a boy about your age from a family like that, you're going to be cautious at first. Even if he's friendly it doesn't necessarily mean anything because chances are, he's just being polite, that's the way he's been brought up. So you aren't going to try pulling his pants down when you've only just met. You aren't going to try anything, not until you know him a lot better, and the problem is, you'll probably never get the chance, because it simply isn't done.
Well, that's how most boys seemed to act around me: I was too well-bred to even think of doing what everybody else was probably doing.
That's why meeting him was so great, because we were almost equals. (So hopefully, while losing a few million is nothing to sneeze at, it only means they're about half as rich as they once were and not that they're sleeping in their car until it gets repossessed.) But we were both cautious at first. We were interested in a lot of the same things, though, so there was lots to talk about, then we found out that we were both geeky book worms and into movies, and...
Well, with him, it wasn't so much what did happen as what could have happened.
He was one of the nicest boys I'd ever met, so I just assumed that he was too nice to be interested in playing sex games. Everyone seemed to assume that I was, and I did almost the exact same thing in his case.
At the start of summer vacation, I was invited to go with him and his parents up to their summer cottage in the Adirondacks. It was only for three days, but I was in heaven. We were sharing the same room. It had bunk beds, but I thought it was great. We talked about everything... except sex. That hadn't come up yet. But I saw him naked when we changed into our trunks to go swimming (the cabin was on Big Moose Lake) and even if just seeing someone naked several times doesn't make for much of a story, I thought it was wonderful. For one thing, he's uncircumcised as well, so even though he was a late bloomer and not even close to starting, it didn't matter, because it was him!
It was hard for me not to stare, though. He was so lucky!
The last night we were there, we watched “Murmur of the Heart” in his room. And that's also the night we camped out. The tent was in sight of their cottage, but it was on the beach and once the lights went out, we decided to go skinny dipping. We almost froze our butts off, so we didn't stay in long, but we were doing something his parents might not have approved of. If they'd found out, they probably would have only laughed, but still, it was our secret. Nice boys skinny dipping! Whatever would people think!?
Like I said though, we didn't stay in long, then we dried off, pulled our boxers back on and ran back to the tent. I thought that was cool, too, sitting on a big log in front of our camp fire in our undies – and once he got up and pulled the back of his down real quick, you gotta warm your buns, you know – so then I did it...
Then we were in our sleeping bags talking about being naked in front of a camera and how it might feel, and before long that led to wondering what Laurent and that younger boy had been up to, and I guess that's when I realized that we were really talking about something else.
It's almost always there, I think, that funny hitch in your voice when you're trying to get your nerve up to try something you've never tried before – or at least something that you'll not be telling your parents about – but I never thought until it happened that it could ever be that way with him.
Almost in a whisper he said it. “Hey, Nathaniel? Why don't we... well, if we share my sleeping bag, we'll be warmer, you know? ... And I think I know what they might have really been up to that night. I'll show you, okay?”
So after mentioning that all that talk about being naked had given me a boner – and after he'd said that it had affected him the same way – I was on top of him and that was heaven.
We weren't like that for long, we were just taking our first tentative steps, but to me it was heaven on earth. I thought we had all the time in the world. We both thought so. Just before we broke it off, he almost put his hands down the back of my shorts. I just knew he was about to, but then he pulled back and he said, “Well maybe... maybe we ought to cool it for... well, for right now, I guess. Some other time... we'll try some more stuff. Okay? ... But it's nice, being together like this. It really feels nice. ... Well, not on top of each other, but keeping each other warm, that's cool... don't you think?”
I couldn't think of anything better. At that moment, it was all I could ask for.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Then before Tuesday was over, I was starting to think that I was in love with a third boy. Earl. Even if at first it didn't seem possible.
And if our first meeting had gone off the way Carlie had planned, it probably would have been a month before he would have talked to either one of us. If I was naked, it would be my privilege, especially on my own property, but I wouldn't appreciate my friend showing up with a stranger. I'd be embarrassed to death if somebody I didn't even know walked up on me if all I had on was my rabbit head. Even if I'd also be embarrassed if I was dressed from head to toe in a rabbit suit, and apparently that didn't bother him in the least. But even so, it's still not honorable to walk up unannounced on a person who could be working in his garden naked.
As it turned out, though, the first time I saw him he had on a pair of jeans and scuffed up tennis shoes. No shirt, but also no bunny rabbit stuff. Only this was because he showed up at our place first.
He was down at the garage with his grandpa. Thankfully John just banged on the door of our room and said they were down there. Thankfully, because we were about to have another jerk off contest. So we were a little put out, but we hurriedly yanked our shorts on and went down to see what was going on.
Well, Abe had bought a pickup. One of the junkiest looking pickups I have ever seen. Not that I was an expert, but that Ford Ranger had to be special. Even if for $150 you couldn't expect it to look like much and you also couldn't expect it to be in good running order. But some guy who lived down the road from them sold it to Abe. He slipped out of the house without saying anything, gave the guy the money, drove it about two miles, then it died in the middle of the highway. So Abe walked back to his place and told Earl about it. So Earl (who'd just crawled out of bed) said, “What truck? You don't have one, remember?”
So his grandpa said, “Well, how much you want to bet on that? You get your clothes on and I'll just show it to you!” (Earl told me all this once he started talking to me later on.)
But eventually they called John and had him tow it in and when we walked out John was saying to Earl, “Well, it's a bill of sale all right. Says here he bought it. So what do you want me to do with it?”
Earl shrugged hopelessly and asked, “Can you bury it somewhere?” It seemed like he was completely serious.
Then Abe started up. “It's my truck, I paid good money for it and I want it fixed right! I gotta go get my boat.”
Earl exclaimed, “Boat? What's that got to do with anything? Even if the truck worked, you couldn't get to it, and the damn thing leaks-”
“It's my boat and I'm gonna go get it!” cut in Abe, “Somebody stole it! Or they tried to, so I'm gonna get it back! I know where my boat was and it's not there any more!”
So John was still wondering what to do with the truck and Earl was trying to argue with his grandpa about the boat and as for grandpa... well, he was still talking about his truck – which he wanted fixed – and his boat – which he wanted back, one way or another – but somehow he also managed to throw in the fact that he'd been to see Old Faithful and how he used to work at a 3-C camp back during the Depression, which led to a Model T Ford, which led to him and a buddy hopping a train down in Albuquerque right after Pearl Harbor so they could enlist, which led to how many grandchildren he had, which somehow led to him seeing Niagara Falls... and so on. And so on some more. John said Abe would talk to a fence post. It might not make any sense, but once he got going, all you could do was nod your head and say, “Well, that's nice, but... well, that's nice too, but...”
But eventually, all that led to this: Carlie would see what he could do with the truck. Partly to placate Abe and partly because he thought it would be a challenge and partly because he wanted me to get to know Earl better. John still had some work to do on Gustafson's truck - which they might ought to bury too - but as long as Fred was paying for it, he'd do what he could. Abe finally decided to stay with his truck because he saw a bunch of empty beer cans he could load in the back. So at least he wouldn't be endangering himself too much and to make sure of that not happening – at least not on that day – Earl finally said, “Well, damn it, I'll go get the boat myself! If you'll just stay here, I'll get it, all right?”
So that's when Carlie said, “Nathaniel can help. ... Oh, I haven't introduced you. Well, this is my cousin Nathaniel. He's from New York, but he's going to be staying with us for awhile. And Nathaniel, this is Earl.”
I looked at Earl, then said cautiously – and a bit reluctantly, because I don't like being rushed into things - “Well, I guess I could. ... If there's anything I can do, I mean.”
Earl shrugged. “Don't guess you'd hurt anything. I might need help getting it ashore. If we find it, that is. So yeah, come on,” and with that, he started walking away fairly fast.
I was going to put some more clothes on, but by the time I'd run back upstairs he would have already been out of sight leaving me standing around looking awkward again, so if Carlie could run around the way he was I guessed I could too, and I finally caught up with Earl after about half a mile. He glanced over at me, but didn't say anything. And I couldn't think of anything to say, either. So it seemed like we were off to a great start.
But after about a minute he said, “He's crazy, you know that?”
“Well, he's just old,” I managed.
“Yeah, he is.”
And that took care of conversation until we reached his house when he said, “Wait out here, I'm going to change.”
So I almost said the hell with it, I was going back and I was going to tell Carlie that obviously Earl didn't want any help from me – I was right on the verge...
Except then he came scampering back out in his bunny rabbit suit, ears and all. “How do I look?” he asked cheerfully.
“Um... well... unusual.”
“Yeah, that's what most people seem to think. But you don't mind, do you?”
“... No... I don't guess.” It was amazing. Dressed normal, he was almost rude, now he was entirely different.
He tossed a can of Cutter Insect Repellent my way. “You better spray yourself down good, because there'll probably be mosquitoes where we're going. About bet on it.”
So I sat down on his front steps and once again, it occurred to me that I was almost naked. Soccer shorts, Nikes and that's all. I'd been acutely aware of how I was dressed while I was trying to catch up with him and now, with him standing a few feet away...
But he didn't let on. Once I was finished he just said, “We're about two miles from the lake, so follow me. And watch out for the cow patties.”
So away we went, still at a brisk pace, but this time I was determined to keep up. I didn't want to get ahead of him, though. One obvious reason was that I didn't know where we were going, and the other was that I didn't want to be tempted to stare. I noticed soon as he came bouncing back outside, that he still wasn't wearing anything underneath and it looked even more interesting than it had on the video. Only walking behind him was also proving to be a problem because of his fluffy white bunny tail. So I couldn't help it, I was on the verge of cracking up. After about a minute I managed, “You know, this is almost surreal.”
Then as soon as that popped out, I thought, “Shit! Now he's going to think I'm being a smart ass!”
Or not. Or at least I wasn't expecting his response. “Surreal. That's a good word, Nathaniel. Having an odd dreamlike quality. Well, I guess that sums up North Dakota. ... But you're saying it's different in New York?”
... “No... not really. ... Lots of things turn out to be imaginary.”
“Such as?”
I was being interrogated by a rabbit, so I was definitely struggling, but finally I managed, “Ever hear of Wall Street?”
“Yeah. Paper millionaires. You're not one of those, are you?” Then we topped a rise, and thankfully, “Well, here's our lake, and I think I see the boat. On the other side. See it?”
Not at first. I was expecting something more than a half-submerged row boat.
“Now you see why I said it wasn't worth the effort?”
“Yeah, I guess I can.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Almost any way you want to look at it, it wasn't worth it. Lake White, as it turned out, wasn't much of a lake. I would've called it a pond, myself, because it was less than a hundred yards across even if it was close to three miles long. We were almost at the middle, but still, if we went around, it was about a mile and a half to the end, then a mile and a half back to the boat, except some places were going to be swampy, so we'd have to walk up then back down around those areas, so it was going to be a long hot walk. Unless...
“Well, I could swim across. I think that would be the easiest way,” I offered. And mind you, I said I as in me, not as in we. If he wanted to swim over too, I wouldn't try to talk him out of it, but I was trying to be generous. And helpful. And honorable as well. No, really...
Well, we'll just go with helpful and I was acting like I didn't want to get him out of his bunny rabbit suit, but I was leaving it up to him. If he wanted me to swim out by myself, then I would've.
Even if I was hoping he'd go with me. … And I was pretty sure he wouldn't want his fur getting matted up. It would probably start falling out then, and his ears would get droopy, so no, that would never do.
But it was still his decision, of course.
Just like it was his decision to put that suit on in the first place.
So he thought about it, and then he said, “Well, you probably could just wade across. As low as it is now, I bet it doesn't get much deeper than three, maybe three and a half feet.”
Oh. Plan B, then. “Well, okay,” I said considerately, “dragging it up on shore and then dumping the water out and then towing it back, well, I guess by myself it'll take a lot longer than it would if we both went, but... yeah, I guess I can manage. ... It'll take awhile, though.” Then I sighed. Just barely loud enough for him to hear.
“Oh, I'll be helping you. What? You think I was going to let you do all the work?” Well, I would've. Honest. “But I'm not getting my suit wet. If I did I'd probably start shedding.” Now that he mentioned it, that too. “So... you ever go skinny dipping?” Me?? In broad daylight? Why me?
Because otherwise, I'd look like a wuss. And he might have changed his mind about it too.
He was working on his shoes. He was dressed from head to toe in that suit, but still, shoes were a necessity, so first he had to get them off, then he could get his bottom piece off. The top piece had already been tossed aside. But apparently, the head was going to stay on. Yeah, this was going to be pretty surreal all right.
Of course in my case it didn't take any time at all. ZIP, and my shorts were clearing my shoes, and shortly afterwards I was in the water, a little past my ankles. I was hoping it would be deeper, like well above my waist, because while it doesn't pop up hard every time a cute boy gets naked, it has been known to happen and it had just happened again. It didn't happen with Stephan, though. Not at first. And it hardly never happened in gym, so maybe it just senses things. Maybe it reacts to weirdness. Even if I didn't catch anything funny in his voice, maybe...
“Looks like I just popped one,” said Earl nonchalantly. It's got early warning! Doppler!
“Yeah, well, don't feel bad, it happened to me too.”
“Oh? Lets see what it looks like, then.” It came out without the slightest hitch, almost matter-of-factly, like he was wanting to compare boo boos. But that's how it was with Carlie until we reached the nude wrestling stage, I can't say that I caught anything funny in his voice, either. Not that I was complaining, but was there something in the water around this place? I mean...
“It's not like I'm going to laugh at you... You don't laugh at me, I won't laugh at you. So...”
... But from the start, Carlie was persistent. There was something in the water!
And I sure wanted to see his, so I shrugged, turned around, and he said, “At least you got some hair. I figured I'd have some by now. But we're still about the same length.”
“No,” I answered, “I think mine's really longer – not by much, but...”
“Oh yeah? You want to see for sure?”
... “How?”
“Simple. We hold them side by side,” and with that he started wading out towards me. So I fainted.
Well, I didn't really, but one thing was for sure, while I'd been trying to be as matter-of-fact about it as he was, it was no longer possible.
He waded up until he was... well, about four inches away. Or maybe it was a little closer because mine wasn't sticking straight out in front of me like his chubby was. Mine was reaching for the sky again, but his was just barely above horizontal. It was almost as big around as Carlie's, but it was short and stubby. His balls were kind of plump, and...
“Hold still. This isn't going to hurt a bit,” and just like that, he had mine and his pressed right together. So it didn't hurt, but I got another one of those shocks. Big time.
Earl giggled. “Feels good, doesn't it?”
... “Uh... yeah... you might... say so.”
“Yeah, I might. Now let's see here... It keeps wanting to jump, but it looks like... I'll give you an eighth of an inch more. Max. ... But mine's bigger around.”
Then he let go and moved away. Not too far, but he'd still broken contact. So I said, “Maybe we ought to measure again. Because I'm sure it's more than an eighth of an inch.”
“Yeah, right. ... But we need to go get the boat. Later on, who knows? But let's go get the boat now. Or at least try to. But first, let's get our clothes. We'll hold them up over our heads. You can't ever tell, we might need them, so we better take them with us. And you better take the Cutter along too. We'll probably need some more.”
So I was thinking, “I cannot believe this, I really can't,” but I was coming back down a little – my dick wasn't, but I was - so I said, “Yeah, well, I think I can carry my clothes with no problem.”
“Yeah, I noticed.” Then with his rabbit parts in hand, he waded back out.
So I followed him. And his ass wasn't bad either. Very plump. A little high-cheeked, I'd say. Perky?
Well, whatever, I liked looking at it, and I guessed since he'd mentioned the way I'd been dressed, I could safely ask him some other questions. “So if you don't mind... okay. What's the deal with the rabbit suit?”
“It bugs people. Does it you?”
“Well, it takes some getting used to, but I don't guess so. Not now.”
“And I like the way it rubs me, too.”
“The way it... oh. Between your legs, you mean.”
“Yeah. It just gives me... well, it's not a major... at first it felt fairly unique, but now, it just feels... well, nice, I guess.”
“That's pretty much how going commando feels. I might not change shorts all summer. At least not around here. If we go to Dickinson or out to eat, I'll dress up, sure, but around here? I'm going to see how long I can go. … It's a statement.”
“Oh? So what's the statement?”
“Well, let me think. ... Undies are a tool of the establishment. How's that?”
“It sucks.”
“Well, I'll think of a better one later. But what kind of statement are you trying to make?”
“You really want to know?”
“I just asked, didn't I?”
“Okay. What kind of statement am I trying to make? I don't know.”
By then, we were about two thirds of the way across. The water was getting deeper, but it was still just barely above our waists. So it looked like he was right about being able to wade across, and beyond that, I'd gotten used to looking at his butt, so I was almost at ease again. My dick was, and so was I.
Then out of nowhere, he started, “Do you know... well, roughly... what the estimated percentage of gay... Shit!”
Then he went under. He'd just found a place too deep to wade. Way too deep. Then seconds later, he came thrashing back up, and sputtered, “I can't swim!” Then he went back under again.
But fortunately, not only could I swim, I'd even had life-saving classes. So even though there's a major difference between saving someone who's only pretending and someone who's in an honest-to-God total panic, I pulled him out.
So finally we got to shore, right next to that stupid boat, and Earl was retching and shaking all over, and I was trying to calm him and myself down, but we were going to be all right.
Only our clothes were gone. When he started thrashing, there went his bunny suit, and when I went after him, there went my shorts as well. Once we made it to shore, it was awhile before we thought about anything except being alive, and then when I did dive for them, nothing. That place he stepped off into was deep! And also very murky, and apparently once flannel gets waterlogged it goes to the bottom. And while I would have thought that my shorts would've floated back up, I didn't see a sign of them, either. We still had our shoes and Earl had his rabbit ears, but that was it.
So I have a cliffhanger after all. A three-pronged one in fact.
Were Earl's bunny ears going to be droopy forever? That's one. (It didn't look good.)
Two: Our clothes. Even if in Hill County... well, we might get out of this okay.
And three was this: Just before Earl went under, his voice had started sounding funny.