Chapter Seventeen
July 23rd is Mosquito Day. The 24th is Marvin the Martian's birthday. (Elliott started this.) The 27th is Take Your Houseplant For a Walk Day and Throw Barbie In a Blender Day, a celebration of free speech and freedom from lawyers specializing in copyright infringement. And I was all for that, but what I was really interested in was finding a good day for our next big step.
And Stephan was looking forward to it as well, only he thought an event that momentous should be put off until at least August. Then he brought up the bit about anticipation making it that much better again. And besides, we needed to prepare ourselves first.
So: “You know, we aren't really all that big, Stephan.”
Only in reply, “I'm aware of that, but still, just having you inside me will be awesome! And it'll probably hurt at least a little. At first.”
... “Well, actually...” and I was about to say that I wanted him to do me first, but he was looking so hopeful, I had to give in. I wouldn't even mention it. Although...
“Well, okay then. We'll wait until August, all right? So now we need to find a good day for it.”
So okay. August 5th was National Underwear Day, August 7th was Particularly Preposterous Packaging Day, August 9th was International Day of the World's Indigenous People...
But that sounded too serious. And not only that, it was more than two weeks off, and I didn't want to wait that long.
So next I googled Bulgarian holidays. But unfortunately we'd already missed “Bulgarian Education and Culture and Slavonic Literature Day” (May 24th.)
(And it does sound ponderous.) Only, the next Bulgarian holiday was Unification Day on September 6th, soo... Uzbekistan then.
So now I was picking countries off the top of my head, but even though The Festival of Namangan Apples and Namangan Flowers sounded more interesting, it wouldn't start until August 25th. So next, I tried Kyrgyzstan, but I fared no better. Nothing until their Independence Day, and that was on August 31th.
Well, Kazakhstan then. (Next holiday, Constitution Day. August 30th.) “Shit!”
That's when Stephan sighed theatrically and said, “Well, Natty, why don't you try the Feast of St Peter?”
“That's a religious holiday, Stephan.”
“Like you care. But it's also known as Lammas Day, which just happens to fall on the same day as Lughnasadh. So why don't you google that?”
“Spell it and I will.”
So he did, and oh my god. In Anglo-Saxon times, it was called “The Feast of the New Fruits”. So aren't cherries fruits? And not only that, it's celebrated on August 1th. Just nine days off!
“So what do you think?” asked Stephan.
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So that was the second interesting happening on July 23rd. (In case it's been forgotten, the first was just after midnight, with me and Stephan blindfolded and on our knees in celebration of National Hot Dog Day.) The third wasn't particularly auspicious, but it was still interesting. There were squirrels in the attic! We'd heard them, but until around nine that morning, we were assuming that they were scampering around on the roof, not inside the house. Because see, squirrels gnaw on things like electric wires and that can lead to a house fire. About 15,000 times a year, it happens.
Only, “They've been up there for at least three years,” said Earl. “That's probably why some of the lights aren't working now.” Squirrels had been gnawing on his wires for at least three years, and he wasn't even worried!
But we were, so it was off to Carlie's so we could google how to remove squirrels from your attic.
The most common answer was that we should call a professional pest removal expert, only the nearest one used to be in Dickinson. “Used to be” because his phone was no longer in service. And the next nearest was in Bismarck, so...
So finally Stephan and I went in together and bought a Squirrel Evictor, only that was another on-line purchase and it would be at least Monday before it arrived. But if the house didn't burn down before then, it sure looked like a 175,000 candle power, high-intensity strobe light pulsing 92 times per minute would make the squirrels leave and never come back. In a testimonial, Mrs. S of Pennsylvania said she'd paid thousands of dollars over the years trying to get rid of squirrels, but they always came back until she wisely purchased a Squirrel Evictor, so there you go.
Only, now we were worried about the house burning down that night, so after finding some do-it-yourself instructions on how to get rid of them until the Squirrel Evictor arrived, all five of us were off to the nearest hardware store (in Dickinson) in the Ford Ranger.
While we were riding in the back with Elliott, though, we – Stephan and I - weren't thinking about how hot it was going to be inside the attic that afternoon, we were seeing how far we could see up each other's shorts. Unless we had our legs just so, Elliott couldn't see all the way up ours, because we were wearing something decent, but...
I yelled, “Hey, Elliott, when did you decide to start going commando?”
You had to yell because of the wind noise, so he yelled back, “They said I have to for as long as I'm here. ... But it feels great!”
So I said, “Well, you'll probably be all right in Dickinson as long as you don't sit down.” He was wearing cut-offs that would have been in style back in the Seventies, so you can just imagine.
But then he added, “In case you're worried, it'll be awhile before I can get hard again, because they almost wore me out last night. I still can't believe it.”
“What did they do?” wondered Stephan.
“They put a rubber band around my dick, and then they took turns.”
“Took turns? What do you mean?” I asked.
“They were practicing deep-throating,” Elliott answered tiredly. Then he shook his head and finished, “I never would have believed anything like that could ever happen to me.”
Stephan gave him a half-smile, then said, “Actually, I found some step-by-step instructions on-line on how to deep throat. ... Just out of curiosity, but it kept talking about having to fight off your gag reflex, so I'm not sure if I'm ready for that.”
“Me neither,” I agreed. All you have to do is mention gagging, and if it's in front of me, I probably will.
“Well, I guess it's my turn next anyway,” said Elliott. Hopefully.
“Maybe,” I said.
“Yeah, we might work something out later on,” added Stephan.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
According to the do-it-yourself instructions, all we needed to buy at the hardware store was some hardware cloth and Eeeek!!® squirrel repellent.
We thought hardware cloth would be some sort of super heavy-duty cloth, only it turned out to be wire mesh. It comes in rolls, and we had to cut it into pieces two inches bigger than the holes in Earl's attic. Then you staple the pieces into place. (Our industrious squirrels had created seventeen holes.)
Eeeek!!® turned out to be a different matter, though. (It's called something else, but because there was a trademark symbol tacked on every time the actual name was mentioned, I'm guessing that their lawyers might object to my mentioning it in this story.)
Only after reading all the precautionary stuff - including the fact that Eeeek!!® wasn't intended for human consumption because the taste was extremely bitter and very unpleasant - we discovered that it also wasn't to be used indoors. Our do-it-yourself instructions plainly stated that we were to spray the entire attic, only now Eeeek!!® was saying we shouldn't!
So, thoroughly confused, we asked a clerk about it, and he said he'd tried it outside in hopes of keeping the varmints out of his flower bed and it worked for about two days. Then his cat started rolling in it. And then his cat came into the house with that horrible smell, and he couldn't get the smell out of his cat or his house either.
So we decided on plan B, which was a teaspoon of Tabasco sauce mixed with a quart of water. Carlie was sure he had some at home, so we made the trip just to get some wire mesh and a plastic spray bottle.
But since we were already in Dickinson, we guessed we might as well go by the Post Office so Carlie and Earl could pick up their passport applications.
That part was easy, but it wasn't long until we discovered that getting a passport without their parents being with them was almost impossible. Stephan and I went with our parents when we got ours, but we'd never once considered the fact that until we were sixteen, they had to be with us. Not just one, but both along with proof of our citizenship, proof of our relationship to them and proof that they were who they said they were.
Only Earl said his parents were unavailable and he wasn't sure if his grandpa was his legal guardian or not.
So if Earl couldn't go, obviously Carlie wasn't going either. But if not for that, he'd still need to appear with his dad, and he'd also need a notarized written statement of consent from his mom. Right then, she was the manager at a Red Lobster in Las Vegas, but...
Carlie shrugged. “It probably doesn't matter, because school starts back in four weeks.”
Squirrels, passport problems, and now this. I'd never asked when they started back, but I'd assumed that it would be after Labor Day. Whoever heard of starting back in the middle of August? In Seattle it would be September 8th, so I'd soon be discussing that with Stephan, but I'd been thinking in terms of facing it in two or three weeks, not right away.
But think about it. Stephan couldn't start back to school in North Dakota and I was sure my mom wasn't going to allow me to start in Seattle. I'd entertained a few wild ideas, but I knew I wasn't being realistic, so I hadn't mentioned any of them to Stephan. For example: One afternoon in early September, I'd just follow him back to his sister's. So he'd say something like, “He followed me home. Can I keep him?” Then (after his sister and her boyfriend said, “No problem”), I'd home school myself. It probably wouldn't be that difficult on-line and I could always study what Stephan was studying...
But no, there was no way that could ever work and it was stupid to even think about it. That was the point, though, I didn't want to.
Only, now I could hardly think of anything else. It took precedence over our aborted road trip, our squirrel removal project didn't seem nearly as important - in fact, for awhile, I couldn't even think about sex!
Fortunately, while Stephan was feeling the same way at first, apparently he's not as likely to be paralyzed, because he suddenly brightened and said, “Well, we'll think of something. In fact... Okay. I'm not going to say anything more until we can check on-line, and then we'll have to talk about it, because I still have some questions, but I have an idea, and it just might work.”
So whether he wanted to say anything more about his idea or not, I was anxious to hear about it. Right then.
“Later,” said Stephan. “Tonight, but not until then, all right?”
“Well, does it involve hang gliders or us running away?”
“Just wait, all right? ... But it doesn't involve either of those two. ... But did you notice that thrift store when we were coming into town? We ought to stop there. See if we can find anything interesting, you know?”
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History is full of blunders. Some of the most notable were made by otherwise brilliant military leaders who in the heat of battle made one fatal mistake. So just as I'm sure that during his last days on St. Helena, Napoleon Bonaparte thought of lots of better ideas, ideas that were almost certainly fail-proof, I also think that eventually I would've come up with the plan that occurred to Stephan that afternoon. I'm sure I would've within a day or so, but not that afternoon, because I was still stuck on simply making the best of a situation that I thought was beyond our control.
At least I was trying to make the best of it, though. There was no sense in being down in the dumps for the rest of the summer, that would have ruined everything. I could just imagine what I'd later be thinking had I not come to my senses, that I'd wasted all that time feeling sorry for myself, so I just had to look on the bright side. I had four... no, seven weeks. Because even if I had to start back to school on August 18th, Stephan didn't, so he just needed to stay out of sight... no, wait...
(A better idea.) Like Earl, I could get myself suspended. Not for the rest of the school year, but at least for two or three weeks. Except I'm not sure if I could get on the school bus dressed like a rabbit. Not even if it's Frank the Rabbit, but...
(An even better idea.) Who says I have to start when they do? I'm from New York, so if I want to say I was with my mom and I had no idea school started in the middle of August...
Then we could take off with Elliott on a three week road trip. Assuming that he wanted to wait a few more weeks, we'd go with him to Vancouver, then after a few days, Stephan and I would go on to Seattle, and that way, we'd have until Labor Day. I'd be his guest. And not only that, I could fly out for the Thanksgiving break, and again come Christmas vacation, and again whenever our Spring Break was, and we'd be in touch almost every night in between all those times until next Summer... and at that point... It might not be perfect, but it could be worse. So carpe diem!
So when we happened across some burgundy choir robes inside the thrift store, there wasn't a doubt in our minds, not even when the store's proprietor said we couldn't buy just five, no, either we took the entire lot off his hands (two dozen) or nothing. But we could have them for $15, so why not? Stephan later admitted that he'd every once in awhile fantasized about being naked beneath his robe, not that he wanted to be sacrilegious, but he'd always thought it would feel interesting.
So I admitted that I'd occasionally watched boy's choirs on YouTube and fantasized about them being naked underneath their robes - or better yet, being a member of that choir myself... even if I didn't want to be sacrilegious either...
Only then Elliott scoffed and said he didn't care if he was being sacrilegious or not, and that once when he was one of the Three Wise Men in their Christmas pageant he had been bare underneath his bath robe and not only that, Larry (another Wise Man), and Dwight (one of the Shepherds) were bare beneath theirs... throughout the entire Christmas pageant, they were like that, and...
Then he admitted the truth, which was that he'd kept thinking that it had to be the dumbest thing he'd ever allowed himself to be talked into. They were going to get caught, he just knew it! Dwight might pull the back of his robe up in front of the entire congregation, for example. (Apparently by then, he was prone to acting without thinking.)
So Stephan and I wanted to hear more about Dwight. The morning before he'd been barely introduced, and that was when he was eleven and didn't really count. Later on, though, apparently he did, and after hearing about their Christmas pageant shenanigans, we had to figure that we'd finally reached the part that counted, and that we wanted to hear about.
Only Elliott said he'd tell us about it once he didn't have to yell. So in other words, once we were back in Oxmar and after our squirrel problem was taken care of.
So back to where we were then: in the back of the Ford Ranger on our way home.
A few miles out of Dickinson, we stopped, pulled all our clothes off – in the middle of the highway – then we hurriedly got into our burgundy choir robes and resumed our trip back home, only now wind drafts were interesting events. Two of the more interesting ones involved trucks passing us going about ninety miles an hour, but the most interesting of all was the eighteen-wheeler that for some reason, followed us for several miles before finally deciding to pass, and there were times when it looked like he was about six inches away. That's when we weren't having a problem with looking prayerful, even if our prayers were mostly being directed at the truck driver. “Will you get off our back bumper? What are you, some kind of a pervert? You're probably fantasizing about us being naked under our robes... I bet you are. God! That is disgusting!”
Thursday was an interesting day. But since we looked like choir boys, we decided to act the part and sing. Elliott and I were ignorant when it came to most hymns, so we sang whatever came to mind. “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer”, “Your Cheatin' Heart”, “All I Want For Christmas Is My Two Front Teeth” and “I've Been Working On the Railroad.”. Stuff like that, but Elliott later admitted that he was thinking about “Nearer My God To Thee” when that eighteen-wheeler was behind us. He never could quite get up the nerve, though, because all at once, he was thinking that it might not be the best time to flirt with being sacrilegious.
Fortunately, though, it wasn't long until Carlie decided to get off the highway and onto a dirt road, and even more fortunately, the road was mostly straight, so that's when I decided to crawl up under Stephan's robe. That's something else I'd occasionally fantasized about. The choir boy would be singing “How Will I Know” and I'd pull his legs open and then under his robe I'd go!
So he missed a few notes. Then he missed some more, and finally he just gave up on trying to sing at all. (Soon as we were both finished though, I asked him to sing all of it and he sounded almost as good as Whitney Houston.)
But there I was underneath Stephan's robe. So it's not like Elliott could see much, but I'm sure he could imagine. Only I guess it wasn't long until he wanted to do a little more, so he pushed the back of my robe up and started rubbing on my butt. He said it was very nice.
And I was glad he thought so... and it was certainly adding another dimension to the proceedings... but I thought I should make sure Stephan didn't mind, so I pulled away and in a slightly muffled tone of voice I said to Elliott, “Do you mind? I'm trying to nurse here!”
“I'm only trying to help,” said Elliott. “You know, like when a baby is nursing, you pat him on his back, right? ... So I'm thinking your butt ought to work just as well.”
“Well, I think...”
“Will you hush and start nursing again? Long as he rubs my butt when I'm nursing, I don't care if he rubs on yours.” (So of course that was Stephan.)
So beneath his robe I shrugged and trying to direct my answer to Elliott – which isn't as easy as you might think, “Rubbing's okay, but poking is still off-limits. Deal?”
“Deal,” said Elliott happily.
So cool. Everybody was happy then.
But I was starting to wonder a little about our new sex toy. After that first day, he'd said almost nothing about his Markus, so putting myself in his place, I supposed it was possible that he was thinking that four in the hand was worth more than one in Vancouver.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The do-it-yourself instructions suggested starting by mid-morning, when it was only getting warmer, not in the middle of the afternoon when it was 97°, but at least we didn't need to worry about any squirrels being up in the attic then. They might not be all that intelligent, but they have enough sense not to be inside an oven. It was like about 150° up there. It had to be!
So we took turns. Somebody would climb up the fold-up stairs, find a hole, then dripping with sweat, climb back down and after being hosed off, (the stairs were on the back porch), he'd report the hole's approximate size and location, and after a suitably large piece of hardware cloth was cut, whoever was next would climb up with that and the staple gun.
It occasionally went like this: “God damn it, where is that hole? It's not where you said it was, and I'm about to die up here. Shit!”
Then once Earl came back down, weakly cussing up a storm, and he said to me, “I can't find it. So since you know where it is, you go find it.”
“But I've just been up there,” I protested.
“I'll go,” said Stephan bravely.
“Well, shit, let's both go,” I said.
It didn't take long to surmise that the best idea was to work naked, though, and it was only interesting well after the fact. It was hot!
Carlie put on some goggles and sprayed the attic down with the water and Tabasco sauce mixture once we had all the holes covered. He was up there almost ten minutes and we kept yelling up, “You all right? ...You sure?”
Then when he was staggering back down he sputtered, “Start hosing me down now! ... You know what? Tabasco sauce and sweat don't mix too good!”
We dumped a wash tub full of water on him and he was very grateful.
But that took care of the squirrels. Or at least, we hoped so.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Elliott was running low on money, so he decided he'd take his chances with the old engine. So that evening, John was helping Carlie get everything put back together and Earl was an interested observer. Elliott offered to help, but after being assured that it would go faster without too much help, Stephan and I were once again left entertaining him.
We started out fully clothed this time. We weren't even going commando, but that was because we were planning on having a strip poker game. We'd never played before and it makes no sense to be half naked before you even start.
Even if in another way, being practically naked before starting would have been better, because once a player was naked, he didn't stop playing: no, next there would be penalties, and that's when everybody wins.
But first, we watched the video of Earl in his bunny suit and we all thought it was interesting. I'd watched it five times, and I still thought so, it was the second time for Stephan, and he still thought so, and Elliott's initial reaction was almost the same as mine had been. “I can't believe it,” he said, “I just cannot... could you run that by me again?”
So if nothing else, he was intrigued. He never said anything about how he'd like dressing up like a rabbit, but apparently he liked the idea of others doing it, so if we could talk Carlie into it, then we could put it to him this way: “If you want us to, then you have to.”
Only, then Elliott went on to say that he wished he could see Earl pedaling his bike down the street in nothing but his eleemosynary oryxes shirt, and we had to admit that it was an interesting thought as well, but...
“You know, sometimes I still can't believe all this is really happening,” he finished.
“Well, it is, so don't worry about it,” I replied.
“Oh, I'm not. After all that's happened since I've got here... It's...” (he shook his head)... “It's unreal, but it's great! So no, I'm not worried, Natty. ... But you want to hear my story?”
So after we said yes, we did, he started,“Well, okay, then. ... `Cept nothing much ever happened as far as me and Dwight was concerned. ... Like I been trying real hard to talk half proper ever since I first laid eyes-”
“As far as we're concerned, you talk proper enough, so quit worrying about it and go ahead and tell the story, all right?”
And that was Stephan, but as for me it was: “Well, I was sort of hoping you would start talking Southern.”
So after a pause, he drawled, “Well, `zackly how Southern does you `uns want me to talk? I can take a quick shar after changing my flat tar and-”
“Unless it's remotely connected to sex, I think it would better it you didn't try to talk Southern,” cut in Stephan.
Only I had to add, “Well, I reckon that thar would depend on `zackly what he did in the shar, now wouldn't it? ... `Shar'. That means `shower', right?”
“Yes, it does, Natty. ... That's very good. You're like... cognizant. And as a matter of fact, there actually was a shower incident-”
“Now he's trying to talk like you,” interrupted Stephan.
Only, I decided to ignore that, because...”Does this incident involve more than one person?”
“Yes, it does,” replied Elliott, “Dwight.”
So... “Okay, go.”
“Okay, I will, then. ... First thing you have to understand about this entire incident, though, is that until I was past sixteen I couldn't even begin to accept that I was gay, even if there were some good hints that I was. From the time I was eleven, maybe?
“But that doesn't matter, except that I sure as hell didn't want anybody else thinking I was, and that included Dwight, because I had a crush on him from when he was twelve and he tried to jump from a tree in his back yard onto his roof and didn't quite get there. He made to the rain guttering That didn't work out and he ended up in the hospital for two weeks. But that's when I knew how much I liked him, when he almost killed himself. He was like, hyper.
“And that almost has something to do with sex. I'm getting there. Slowly, but surely. See, he broke his right arm and because he was right-handed, I started helping him with his homework. And I fantasized about having to help him get dressed or... helping him with his bath... that would have been good, but-”
“Silver Bullet!” blurted Stephan.
“Hush, Stephan. He's getting warmer.”
And he was, because: “That's right, Natty. I'm getting there. Except to explain one other thing: Dwight was shy, so I was doing good to see him in his shorts, even. I'd never seen him completely naked, until...
“The Christmas pageant. When I was fourteen and Dwight and Larry were thirteen and Larry said he'd go naked underneath his bath robe if we'd do the same. It was the stupidest, dumbest thing I'd ever done in my life... up until then... but when Dwight said he would if I would, I had to. Because I was dying to see him naked.
“So we did.”
“Natty wants to know if Dwight had any hair and how big it was,” cut in Stephan.
“Did I say that?”
“You were at least thinking it.”
“And you were too, Stephan.”
“Well, actually...” then he was about to crack up, but after taking a deep breath, he informed us, “He'd just started growing some, and he was a little bigger than you are right now, Natty. How's that?”
“Sounds good.”
“Yeah, I liked it too,” said Elliott. “But that's-”
“Stephan wants to know if Larry had hair and if anybody popped a boner,” I cut in.
So... “You know what? That's another good question, because I noticed that and I think he was a little bigger than Earl is right now and he didn't have any hair. Not that I noticed, but that might have been because he had a boner. It was straight out. ... But me and Dwight did not have boners. Speaking for myself only, that was because I was too scared to have one. But Larry said he was going to the bathroom to take care of his, and while he was gone, we were saying stuff like we bet we knew what he was up to... like we were real sophisticated, so we didn't do that-”
“Then you're going in the wrong direction, Elliott,” I cut in again.
“Stephan wants Natty to quit interrupting all the time,” said Stephan.
“And Elliott does too,” continued Elliott, “because I'm about to hit the home stretch.”
Then, after taking another deep breath: “We survived the Christmas pageant without being exposed and, once back home, I had a totally awesome jerk off. I thought it was thrilling as shit.
“But for awhile we started being almost like brothers. I guess it was because we'd done something way stupid, but we got away with it, so it became wickedly cool.
“And furthermore, he stopped being so shy... but unfortunately, he'd started liking girls. I was hoping it was only a phase. It wasn't like he was going out on dates yet. And lots of times we'd still rough-house. Wrestling on the floor. You can get some good feels that way. Sometimes he'd grab between my legs too – real quick like – so I hadn't given up hope. ... Even if I still wasn't admitting that I was gay.
“I wore glasses back then. I wear contacts now... bet you didn't know that, but I do... but back then it was glasses and... this is important... we'd been playing basketball, so he was hot and sweaty, so he decided to take a shower. He had one adjoining his room, see. This was in late April, by the way. So anyway, it was getting bigger and he had a half-decent bush. ... Just figured I'd save both of you the trouble. But he was gorgeous!
“So not long afterwards, here he came out of the bathroom drying himself off. Then he started popping me with his towel. And he was still naked. So I grabbed his towel and I started trying to pull it away from him, only he was pulling on his end and it was bouncing around like you wouldn't believe and we were reeling each other closer and closer to each other, and then...
“I'm surprised I didn't have a heart attack, because he jumped on me and started wrestling!
“So I grabbed his dick. It was kind of fat and soft and wiggly. Only then he yanked my glasses off and said if I didn't let go he'd break them.
“So that night I was thinking that I'd messed things up royally and maybe now he was going to start thinking I was a queer, so I didn't have a good jerk off session. Even if I did a few days later when he went home with a girl to study. It's weird how that worked out.
“Because it wasn't long until he was studying with that girl almost every afternoon, so we stopped hanging out together because it broke my heart. Then not long after that it got weirder when Larry started walking to school with me. There and back, too. Maybe he saw an opening.
“For awhile I wasn't interested, though. He wasn't bad looking, but he was kind of prissy and occasionally creepy. I swear, he could even make taking a leak sound dirty, and not only that, he was as clueless as I was. So I was resisting his charms, until right before school let out. We were arguing about something. I can't remember what it was about, but he wouldn't let it drop, so finally I said, `Well, why don't you just suck my dick, then?' It was supposed to be an insult, but Larry said, `Well, I will if you will.'
“So I told him to go to hell. But I started thinking about it. I started wondering what it would feel like.
“So.” (Deep breath.) “Two days later, I brought it up again. See, his father was always at his church office then. So I asked, `If I suck your dick, then you'll suck mine, right?'
“And he said, `You really want to?' I could tell he was getting hard, and I was too!
... “Except, I had a surprise for him, because what I said was: `I will once. But we'll flip for who goes first. If you call it right, then I'll do it first, otherwise, you go first. So you still want to?'
“And here's what sucks. In a bad way, because I bet he didn't care if he lost or not. He would've gone first. I'm almost positive, but whatever, he called it right.
“But I was still looking forward to it... and to answer all your other questions before you ask, it was decent by then. Size-wise. I didn't measure it, but I'd say five and a half easy. And fatter than Dwight's and he had hair. So it was okay, even if I was still more interested in getting my blow job in return.
“We were in their kitchen. He was sitting at the table with his pants down at his ankles, and I was underneath the table and it wasn't horrible except for him talking dirty. I should have gagged him, that's what I should have done. But I had it in my mouth when we heard a car door slam outside. In their driveway.
“So we freaked. I banged my head on the bottom of the table and Larry was going, `Oh god, oh god, it serves us right, it serves us right' and he jerked his pants up so fast he almost gave himself a wedgie, so we didn't get caught by the lady from the church who was dropping off a stupid cake... and she knocked, it's not like she barged in on us...
“But aside from a knot on my head, I almost pissed myself. And I also didn't care much for that 'us' shit.
“But he kept acting like he was having a nervous breakdown right into the summer, and he was sitting in church with some girl who looked like a cow... and I don't want to know what they did together, even if it never went beyond them holding hands and mooing.
“I didn't try with anybody else. Not anything. I was still trying to tell myself I wasn't really gay, you know? But last fall, that's when I first met Markus on-line. He was the first boy I'd ever met who could just say it. `I'm gay,' you know? So...” (shrug)... “maybe this time, it'll work out. … I hope so.”
Then he finished with, “But whatever, you want to start our strip poker game now?”
So we did, but as it turned out, he was cheating, because he was still going commando. And not only that, I think he was trying to lose.
So naturally, he was the first to lose his clothes, then when he lost the next hand as well, it was time for a penalty. Only one, as it turned out, because...
Well, we wondered if it was possible, and as it turns out, it was. Stephan and I were facing each other close enough that our dicks were touching – and that in itself was a nice feeling – but he did us both at the same time! At times, it was awkward, but... whoa!
I can assure you that “whoa!” did not mean “stop!”, though. It felt like our dicks were caught together in a washer.
Elliott said we were perverted.
So in reply, we said he was too.
Next chapter: Stephan's master plan.