Are You Scared Yet?
by J J Janicki
Chapter 20
My mom knows lots of things. For example: the night before my first visit to Six Flags I was almost scared to death. I wasn't too worried about not surviving El Toro or Kingda Ka... or any other ride, but I was worried about throwing up. Doing it just before getting on would have been the worst - I don't think I could've ever lived it down - but I also didn't think it would be a good thing if I was 456 feet up in the air or if we were traveling 128 mph. Only, mom to the rescue. Number one: don't eat anything for at least three hours before. Number two: breathing exercises. And number three: Equate Motion Sickness tablets! Safe for children... anti-vomiting (I particularly liked that part), so...
I wasn't worried about it nearly as much. Or at least, not about throwing up. Wetting my pants... well, possibly...
But that didn't happen either.
So that brings us to the Desperado, which is no longer the tallest, fastest or steepest in the world, but it's still pretty tall. And fast and steep. It's all relative, but when you first see it looming up out of the desert... oh boy. Both Carlie and Earl started looking nervous. Yes!
But I didn't tease them. Not even when we were about a mile away and all at once, Carlie said, "Stop the car. Now! I'm going to throw up."
Well, I might have looked a little smug once he was back - as in, "I told you so", but the way I saw it, better then than while he was on the ride. Because there's potential blowback and then there's projectile vomit.
So that's why I offered him an Equate, and he took two. And even though Earl had listened to me and not eaten only an hour before, he decided to take one as well, just to be on the safe side.
But my i-Kams worked great! That first drop, Carlie was screaming! Earl had his eyes shut, but the expression on his face was priceless. Only the rest of us weren't putting on acts either. I mean, if you're falling from a thirty story building, it's not likely that you'll be thinking that it could have been higher. That first drop was 255 feet at a 55 degree angle, and I couldn't even see the track below, so for a moment...
Well, just for a moment, but it did cross my mind that it had jumped the track.
But no one threw up in spite of several instances of zero-gravity, and once it was over, everybody wanted to go again. Everybody. Once I got used to it, it was really cool.
So getting "used to it" should explain one of my reasons for not getting on Carlie's case right after he lost his lunch. It was the perfect opportunity, and he deserved it, but the problem was I was taking some deep breaths myself. Stephan and I had been acting like we were old hands when it came to roller coasters, that we weren't scared at all, but the closer we got, the more I was wishing everyone else would chicken out. Or possibly just Elliott. He could've said: "No way!" I'm not about to!" and that would've taken care of that, and I wouldn't have said anything more about it until...
Once we were in Oregon, maybe.
But aside from that, I had another reason for caring about Carlie's ego: I was hoping he'd take my fear of camping out in the Mojave Desert into consideration later on. As though there was a chance of that.
But it was supposed to be the night Stephan and I took our last big step, and I really wanted it to be in the comfort of a motel room with a nice convenient bath, and I also didn't want anyone else knowing about it until afterwards, and then I was thinking that we'd let the rest know as much as I was comfortable with. So I didn't think much of heating water for our... hot water bottle over a campfire. Because if it only got down to about eighty that night, then we didn't need one and I was sure they'd figure out the rest soon enough.
And we were also going to keep our tent closed all night, so we'd probably sweat to death, because as it turned out it finally got down to eighty a little before daybreak. At ten that night it was still almost a hundred!
So we would've sweated to death, there's no doubt about it. But why didn't we want our tent a little more open?
Overlooking Gila Monsters, wolves, coyotes and scorpions, I can still think of six more reasons: speckled rattlesnakes, red diamond rattlesnakes, sidewinders, Western rattlesnakes, Western Diamondbacks and Mojave rattlesnakes. If bitten by a member of the speckled, red diamond or sidewinder variety... you could die.
But then there's the Western rattlesnake. Its venom is extremely toxic, and it's irritable. Not shy and reclusive like the Prairie rattlesnake.
The Western Diamondback is responsible for more human deaths that any other snake in the country, and there were supposed to be a lot of them in the Mojave.
But the most dangerous snake in North America is the Mojave rattlesnake. It's aggressive - not at all shy - fairly large-bodied and its venom is ten times more toxic than that of any other rattlesnake in the country. One bite is sufficient to kill a human, so...
We'd surely sweat to death, but we'd also be worried about the possibility of one of those snakes chewing its way inside, and that's distracting. Whether it's likely or not, it still is.
But of course Carlie was poo-pooing us tenderfoots. Even after I didn't say anything about him losing his lunch, he was still saying stuff like as long as we didn't pitch our tent in the middle of a brush pile, there was nothing to worry about, and they weren't even going to bother with a tent, they were going to sleep under the stars... along with the scorpions and the bobcats and the mountain lions and the wolves and the coyotes, so we (Stephan and I, along with Elliott) were going to be sleeping in the car, so that meant our next big step would have to be put on hold...
Unless maybe we wanted to mention it to everyone else. Not that I had much hope of that working either, because Carlie and Earl had never done it in the middle of the desert, and they were looking forward to it. Damn perverts...
Well, all right, I would have given in eventually. We were supposed to be camping out on our trip and more often than not it was going to be in the wilderness. I was still hoping we could sort of ease into it, but I would've - probably that night, because lots of people do camp out in the Mojave National Preserve (not that I noticed any other tents that night) - but we'd already looked it up along with all the wildlife and people do camp out in the desert. It's not like it's crawling with poisonous snakes and scorpions and wolves and God only knows what else, and it really would be awesome to go to sleep under all those stars. (Although I still had my doubts about doing it naked because of what you might find in your shoes or clothes come daybreak.)
But even so, watching the sun come up over the desert could be almost a mystical experience, and I'm sure my mom would be all for it. Or at least some of it, but...
Before that could happen we saw Squeak and Alexander out on the highway.
Actually they were on the side of the highway, watching the traffic go by, apparently looking for an opening. Only on I-15 between Las Vegas and LA, there aren't many of those. Those poor little cats would be flattened! So we had to stop.
So they scampered up and then Squeak put a paw up as though he was begging us, and he squeaked. He didn't meow, he squeaked, so that's how he got his name. And Alexander (short for Alexander the Cat) was rubbing up against my leg, so we picked them up. Only Alexander wanted to be put back down. Squeak didn't seem to mind, though. He was soo cuddly... and seriously, if he wasn't run over, a rattlesnake or a coyote would get him, sure as the world, but we were wondering if Alexander wanted his butt saved or not, because he wanted to be put back down.
But we couldn't just leave them there. We couldn't!
And that's why we didn't camp out that night, because we couldn't leave them out in the open and we also couldn't keep them in our tent because with the flap closed, they'd suffocate. And if not, they'd still be getting in our way. We were pretty sure of that.
The simplest thing would've been to have to gone back to Vegas, but we knew we'd never get them past the security cameras, and even if we did, we'd never be able to sneak them onto an elevator. And we weren't taking them to the pound because number one: it was almost certainly closed for the night, and number two: they'd probably just put them to sleep anyway. So... no... way.
So the next town heading west was Baker, home of the world's largest thermometer and not very much else. There were a few motels but, flea bags or not, they were all full, so after stopping at a convenience store for some cat litter, something that would pass for a litter box, a plastic bowl and some cat food, we headed on to the next town, which was Barstow, sixty miles away.
Speaking of fleas, though, they had flea collars that still worked and they also seemed to be housebroke. Or car broke. A few miles beyond Baker, Squeak started pawing at the side window. Then he looked at me and squeaked softly, so...
They were breaking us in quickly enough. We stopped, they jumped out, did their business and then jumped back in.
And it didn't seem as though they minded our music. I think they liked our latest find, HEM, (their "Rabbit Songs" album), quite a bit. It is a very laid back album.
In Barstow, we finally found a motel with a vacancy sign, only by then it was past ten, (one in Orlando), so calling my mom was out of the question. She might've still been up, but she also might not've, so...
"Maybe I can talk us in, " I said. "Probably not the cats, though. So I guess me and Stephan..." (sigh) "well, we'll spend the night in the car... long as the manager doesn't mind, but anyway... we're from St. Cecilia's and we- "
"Saint Cecilia! I've heard of her, " cut in Elliott excitedly, "she's the one who had her head chopped off three times.... Or so they said. I never could figure that out, but-"
"She's the patron saint of musicians and it wasn't chopped off three times, they just tried three times, " explained Stephan.
"Oh, " said Elliott. So-"
"Or so they say, " added Stephan, "but anyway, what's your plan, Natty?"
Well, I was hoping that someone other than me and Stephan would volunteer to stay with the cats, but... "I'm glad we finally got to that, Stephan... and Elliott..." then after taking a deep breath, I continued. "We're from St. Cecilia's in... we'll say New York, and we're on our way to East LA. See, we're going to be doing some volunteer work... and once my mom volunteered for a week and I went along, so it's almost the truth, except I'm rearranging the facts a little... but to save money, we've been mostly camping out, but we saw the cats, right? So we couldn't just leave them out there, so we've got money for emergencies, and this is one, and I could wake my mom up so she could talk to the lady, but she's asleep and has to get up at 5:30-"
"I think St. Agnes would be even better, " interrupted Stephan.
"Well, what did she do?" wondered Elliott.
"She's the patron saint of chastity.... And virgins.... And gardeners, " said Stephan.
Elliott started, "Gardeners? What has that got to do with-"
"I'm going to stick with St. Cecilia because in the fifth grade, she's the one who ended up costing me a week's allowance, " I cut in. "So, Elliott, you're the one with a driver's license, so let's see what we can manage here."
But I realize that St. Francis of Assisi would have been more fitting. Or St. Gertrude, the patron saint of cats .
Or perhaps St. Jude, the patron saint of lost causes, because we managed better than I ever thought we would, almost to the point of it being downright miraculous. I had a good feeling about it when we walked into the office and were greeted by two of the lady's cats, though. And since she was obviously Hispanic, I figured the bit about St. Cecilia would go over pretty good, but we ended up with two rooms, and after she saw our cats, (and their flea collars), she said we could let them stay inside too! As long as we kept them in the bathroom.
So okay then! Except for one problem, and that was, apparently Squeak had adopted Stephan. So that was two problems, because if Squeak was staying in our room, then Alexander was too, he made that plain enough. I liked those cats an awful lot, but... this was supposed to be our night. The night.
But oh well, they'd be safe and in no danger of suffocation in the bathroom. We fixed them a box with two towels in the bottom, so they could sleep in that. After all they'd been through, they probably needed some sleep. (And by the way, those were our towels, not some that we'd ripped off from the motel.)
But first it was time for Stephan's enema. Since he insisted on being fucked first, he'd get the enema first, it was that simple. Or, at least, the part about who was on the receiving end first was simple enough, but beyond that, no. Not with two inquisitive cats watching our every move and wanting...
There's not a delicate way of putting this. If we'd run some water into the tub first, it probably would've kept the cats out, but we didn't think of that, and soon as Stephan pulled his legs up, the cats were checking him out. You would have thought I'd lubricated him with Cat Chow. But we have our limits, so no. As in no... way!
Although we did think it was funny.
But it is true that Laurent (in Murmur of the Heart), tried something with a kitten. It was off-camera and left to our imagination, but I think his idea was to be licked off...
That might not have worked too well.
But... yeah, Laurent Chevalier was very seriously horny all right... but anyway, soon as we could stop laughing, we decided on another position. From my standpoint, it looked to be equally vulnerable and even more inviting, but at least he wasn't as much of a target for the cats. After disconnecting the business end of the enema tube and clamping it, Stephan got out of the tub, knelt, lowered his head and chest forward until the left side of his face was touching the floor, and... !!!!
It didn't take two quarts, though, he was ready long before that. I sure didn't want to overfill him. And that's all I'm going to say about it except for the fact that Stephan at least has some modesty, because once it was time for him to sit and expel, he wanted me out and I could close the door behind me. And he also wanted those cats out: I could just hold them until he was finished.
I was relieved, because I didn't want him watching me either.
So. That gets us past the enema part, and then Stephan was on his tummy on the bed with a towel underneath him just in case. He was lubricated and so was I. We were about to do it! Really do...
Well, except for those cats again. They didn't care what the lady behind the desk said, they did not want to be shut up in the bathroom, they wanted to be with us! So they were scratching on the bathroom door and meowing and squeaking, and that's still distracting. We wanted our first time to be just about us, together in a way that transcended... cats!
We were going to have to do something about those cats, that's all there was to it, but right then, we had to let them out. Into the room. So they could hop up on the bed. And God only knows what else...
So we'd do it someplace else, then. There are lots of different positions, and we intended to try as many as possible. Eventually, you betcha. But first, after giving the cats some more cat food to keep them occupied - hopefully - Stephan leaned over one of the two chairs in the room, spread his legs a little... and then a little more, and I started feeling light-headed. But I shuffled forward, got everything centered, took a deep breath, and it was all good.
There was some resistance at first, but I was expecting it. Actually I was expecting a lot - because I've heard that the first few times, that sphincter can be stubborn - but A: we were both lubricated, B: it's still a fact of life, it's slender, (although it's much bigger around than a pencil), C: I'd already had two fingers in and D: he pushed back hard as I pushed forward, and all at once... right up the chute. Not as far in as I could go - I'm guessing I was at about the three inch mark, but it honestly was like a warm, slippery glove... a velvet tunnel... a squirming-
"Push!" panted Stephan.
So obviously there was no point in asking if he wanted me to pull it back out. I wish I'd had a little more time to savor it all though - 'cause you know, there's only one first time...
But practice makes perfect, I guess. Next time it would last longer. Next time, I'd give his button a workout, I'd drive him right over the edge, I'd just keep slowly sawing in and out, in and out, a little to the left, a little... in another direction... but the first time didn't last long. I almost felt like it shouldn't even have counted, that's how long it didn't last, but I got excited. I don't think there was any way I couldn't have been excited. But then once it was over with, I was let down. And other than we'd technically done it, Stephan said he was let down too. So no, he certainly wasn't driven over the edge.
"Sorry, " I managed, "but... once... I... well, once... eventually... you... humping back... will be good... it'll be real-"
"Don't go anywhere, " he cut in quickly, "gotta go, but soon as I get..." (he was headed for the bathroom), "...we'll see how much you like getting it up your ass!"
Well, I liked it, but... you've probably guessed already... Stephan became too excited even sooner than I did. Well, the even quicker part might not have been guessed, but the problem was, my sphincter muscle was more stubborn than his. I was pushing back as hard as I could, but we were starting to wonder. One of those misguided patrons against sexual temptation had surely locked my door, but finally the gap was breached. Just barely, but it was in there, so, "Push!" I implored. But it hurt a little, so I had slightly mixed emotions. Meaning: I didn't want it to hurt a whole lot more, but I did want it to hurt some. I'd heard that you can quickly become addicted to that sweet pain, and I was certainly looking forward to it, but...
Not this time. Two times he hit my button. Only two times, and just barely.
So after our first time, we weren't in a position to make many comparisons, but if you're on the receiving end of a blow job, the other person is in control. Mostly. He can pause, he can move it around in his mouth, all sorts of wonderful things, but...
In the pantheon of sex acts, fucking is at the top of almost everyone's list. That's why we saved it for last, after all. So we were definitely going to try some more, and the next time would probably last longer. A lot longer. We had faith.
Squeak and Alexander behaved themselves admirably: they curled up on our bed and simply went to sleep, by the way. And when we decided to crawl into bed ourselves, they didn't bother us too much. Although when we woke up, they were resting comfortably on top of us, purring contentedly. So that was nice too.
Except for wondering how we were supposed to get rid of them. Eventually, we had to... I guessed...
But not right away.
Elliott wanted to experience LA traffic, but we didn't want to experience it with him, so we didn't stay on I-15 - no, just beyond Barstow we hit State Highway 58 towards Hinkley, Four Corners and Edwards Air Force Base, and if it hadn't been for the cats, we would have visited the Flight Test Center Museum. It would have been interesting. There's the X-1, the X-15 and a good many other planes, but obviously we couldn't leave the cats inside the car.
So at Four Corners we headed north on U.S. 395. There was quite a bit of traffic, some headed for Death Valley, some for Yosemite, but we'd already decided not to risk Death Valley because the air conditioner seemed to be on the verge of giving up the ghost. As it turned out, it just needed more freon, but we didn't know that then. All we knew was, the Mojave wasn't very much fun if the air conditioner wasn't working like it should. We had no idea how they managed in the olden days, and none of us was keen to find out. One of these days, maybe, but not right then, because it was way too hot.
And much as we hated to, we also decided to pass on Yosemite. I'd visited there once, and it was bumper to bumper. It's beautiful, but the problem is, too many people want to visit.
So just north of Pearsonville, home to 27 intrepid souls and 80, 000 hubcaps, we decided it was time to take a road less traveled. We were headed off on J41 into the Inyo National Forest and possibly on the Giant Sequoia National Monument or at least into the Sequoia National Forest, but somehow, we got off onto another road, and this road was not designed for station wagons. It was a very rough road with huge ruts, but until we could find a place to turn around, Stephan and I decided to make the best of it. So it might help if I were to first explain the situation.
We got hot and bored on 395, so we decided it was time for some more performance art, and even though we didn't have to, we let Carlie and Earl use our Frank the Bunny masks, leaving us with only those silly-looking Bugs Bunnys. At first, Elliott swore he wasn't going to join us, but he finally gave in and put on Earl's floppy rabbit ears (the originals), because if you're chauffeuring four others wearing rabbit heads, then you're going to look unusual no matter what, even without pink long johns. Long johns were out, and so were the jump suits. I mean, we weren't in Death Valley, but we were in still in the Mojave Desert. So we opted for the choir robes. We figured we might as well take them with us, because we couldn't see John ever having any use for them. So no, we weren't naked from the neck down. Later on, maybe, but not on U.S. 395 in the middle of the day. (We still got some interesting looks, though.)
But there was hardly any traffic on J41, and then once on that other road, there was none. So we were tempted, but we were also bouncing around. Earl and Carlie were both up front and after a particularly bone-jarring bump, Earl said slyly, "Hey, Carlie, want to sit in my lap for awhile?... We'll just talk about whatever pops up." That's when it hit us, (as in !!!!. again), and so, giggling as quietly as possible, in no time at all we'd found the little green can. The audacity! We were going to do it without them even knowing!
Well, think about it. Were we wearing anything beneath our robes? Of course not. But we could surreptitiously reach up inside our robes and apply the goop, right? (We managed.) And then Stephan climbed into my lap. (He'd already whispered that it was his turn again. And he hoped it lasted longer than take one.) So okay, I had to quickly hike my robe up to my waist just before, but nobody up front was paying any attention. And of course, Stephan also had to hike his up in back, but once settled in, he let his robe fall, so unless you looked close, you couldn't tell what was going on...
Except maybe for the expression on our faces. Because with me guiding him with my hands on his hips, we centered iton the first try, and we both gasped. If not for our music, it would have been a very audible gasp, because if you sit on it, then you can just forget about easing it in. As in: whomp... "GASP!... Oh boy."
But we'd gone down on each other just before leaving the motel that morning, so now we could last longer. And also, Elliott was by then just creeping along, because he didn't want to knock something loose underneath, so the bumps weren't as bone-jarring, but there still were some. As in: WHOMP! "GASP!!!... oh god. (We were still trying to be quiet about it.)
From my end, it felt... well, there aren't any words to convey how it felt... but needless to say, it felt good. Unbelieva bly good, and I hardly had to do anything! I was stuck!
Stuck in you
I've got this feeling down deep in my soul that I just can't lose
Guess I'm on my way...
Well, sorry, but I sure wanted it to be a long trip. It was awesome!
But as far as Stephan was concerned, it was nearly sublime.. at first. It was a little painful, but he knew my dick couldn't go too far in because, after all, it was still connected to me. And it did feel good. He was occasionally wishing it was bigger, but until that happened, we'd have to be content with the way things were. But every single time his magic button was rubbed, he was wanting it to happen again. So if we'd been in a jeep or on the back of an ATV, we could have been going much faster and bouncing violently, but it wasn't long until slowly easing along was leaving a lot to be desired, so he placed his hands on the seat - one on each side of me - and started pushing up and down... so we were both feeling better and better... and forgetting everything else. As in, "Oh shit shit shit shit, " and so on. Happy, blissed out sounds. He barely even noticed that Squeak had climbed into his lap, and I didn't either. (I think he was enjoying the ride though. In an innocent, non-sexual manner of course, but he's the braver or the two. Alexander still wasn't too sure about our rabbit heads.)
Then: "Oh... my... God!" exclaimed Elliott, "are you doing what I think you're doing?"
... "What?" I asked. I think that's what I said, but I'm not sure.
"Shit!" I think Carlie yelled, "Back up, Elliott, back up! We gotta go down this road again!"
"I can't back up, " said Elliott plaintively. That, and breathlessly - I suppose - but I also think he was starting to feel a little left out again.
Oh shit shit shit shit!" said Stephan moments later, and with that, it felt like his insides clamped down. You can feel it! He was orgasming and I was feeling it!
So just as soon as that squirming, slippery softness let go of me a little... I actually saw stars. It was soo awesome...
We didn't even feel embarrassed once it was over. Of course, everybody else was asking us questions about what it was like and whether we enjoyed ourselves, so finally, I managed, "Yeah... quite... a bit... actually."
"Yeah, " said Stephan dreamily, "but you better stop. I think... I have to go, again."
So we stopped, and I looked smug.
The fact that we decided to go at it in the back seat while were bumping down a dirt bike trail wasn't all that weird, because Carlie and Earl had already gone at it in front of us, so why not? It was simply too good of an opportunity to pass up.
Carlie and Earl going to it as soon as we were underway again also wasn't so weird. Under the circumstances, it would have been weird only if they hadn't.
So Elliott having to stop - on a steep downgrade - wasn't weird either, because in lieu of anything better, whacking off made perfect sense. If we were unhinged, then he could be too. He could do himself with one hand and Carlie with the other! He was beside him, so again, why not?
In fact..."Suck it, " said Carlie in a hurried tone of voice.
So I think Carlie came out best - getting fucked and sucked at the same time - but it all made sense.
If you think about it long enough, then this entire story makes perfectly good sense. It's simple. I saw an opportunity with Earl, I went for it, and then one thing led to another, just like dominoes.
Well, except for stumbling across Elliott at the fertilizer factory... that was strange, but it's pretty much like I told him when he said he was still having some trouble believing it all: it had happened, so there was no point in him worrying about it.
But having said all that, open or not, gay boys are still a distinct minority, so...
So how was it that we kept running into them, then?
I have no earthly idea, but I'm still not going to worry about it.
It started like this: Five more miles or so on down that goat path, we happened upon a calm part of the South Fork of the Kern River, so soon as we saw it, we were all thinking: skinny dipping! Only, as we drew closer, we saw some tents, and then we spotted eleven Boy Scouts, and they were skinny dipping too! Eleven! (We knew they were Scouts because of their flag. Troop xxxx, it said.) (So no, I'm not about to blow their cover.) But if not for the fact that we'd just lost our ability to get hard for awhile, we probably wouldn't have joined them, because we were still assuming that they were all straight as Scouts could be.
But they were also naked and some of them were... well, cute. And it wasn't like we were planning to hit up on them or anything, so after changing into regular clothes - shorts and shirts - we parked above their campsite and Carlie hollered, "Care if we join you?" and with that, everybody but Elliott started walking down. Elliott decided he'd stay with the cats. (We didn't know what the official BSA policy was on shaving off all your body hair, but we guessed they probably weren't entirely in favor of it.)
So we weren't very far away when two Scouts nonchalantly waded in, and one of them who looked to be about my age said, "You can if you want to, but we're skinny dipping." Then he added, "But I guess you already noticed, huh?"
So if not for being in love with Stephan, I think I would have smitten again right then and there, (and I still couldn't help blushing), but I managed, "Um... it's a little hard to miss."
"Yeah, I guess it is, " laughed Dan. He was the older of the two - sixteen - and as it turned out, he was also their leader. Not quite my type, but still okay.
"It's the only way to go!" said Carlie. And I was glad of that, because I was feeling a little shy all at once.
But Carlie wasn't, so soon enough, we were out of our clothes once again. Only, as I was stepping out of my shorts, I glanced up, and the boy about my age had plopped down in the water. It was no more than three inches deep, and he calmly sat down propping himself up with his hands with his legs open. And he looked to be very interested. As in curious. About us. And he didn't seem to be embarrassed about this. "The guy up in your car: is he like shy or something?"
"He's staying with our cats, " explained Stephan.
"Oh." Then he seemed to be deep in thought for a few seconds, but finally, "Well, unless you're afraid of them running away, you could bring them down here.... They'll be all right, I'm sure."
We road warriors were still sitting on the bank. Somehow, it just seemed proper.
Well, that's not it, exactly. Since we were already naked, I'm not sure why, but it seemed as though we shouldn't just jump in, we should talk a bit first.
For example: we could explain why Elliott was still sitting in the car with his door open. He was wearing shades and looking cool enough... except he really wasn't looking all that cool... probably...
I cleared my throat. "Well... that's probably a good idea about the cats because our air conditioner isn't really working, but you see... well, the thing is... not long ago, some of his friends played a prank on him, and now... he's sort of embarrassed because..."
And then I trailed off, because...
Just as friendly and matter-of-fact as he could be, Dan said, "You'll have to overlook Todd. He's only thirteen and he gets excited sometimes."
"That's because the way he's trying to explain, it's starting to sound a little weird, " said Todd nonchalantly. Almost, because his penis was still slowly rising and getting larger, so feigned or otherwise, that makes nonchalance a little difficult.
Only, I wasn't sure if I was supposed to be interested in it or not. I was. (of course): it wasalmost Carlie's size and he had a small rectangular brown bush, but finally I managed, "Yeah, sometimes we get excited too. But anyway-"
"We got too excited not long ago, " cut in Stephan.
"Oh, I see, " said Dan. So apparently he'd caught Stephan's drift and wasn't put off, but-
"But what happened to Elliott was, some of his friends tied him down and shaved his pubes and everything else off and so far, it's not growing back any, " explained Carlie.
And that seemed like a good explanation, so I added, "So that's why he's embarrassed right now."
"Sounds interesting, " said Dan. He sounded bemused, so I wasn't sure how well he was taking that bit of information, but...
"Tell him we won't laugh at him, but we want to see what he looks like, " said Todd, and with that, he stood up - still hard as could be - and after running out a bit, did a quick surface dive. He swam out a few yards, then he looked back and started making like he was jerking off. Then he started back towards the others. They were still out a ways, but they were also looking interested. We could only see their faces, but...
"You and Stephan go talk to Elliott, " said Carlie, "and hurry. Because we're going swimming!" and with that, he was in the water. (And Earl started cautiously wading in.)
It's probably been guessed by now, but in case it hasn't, Elliott was wearing my i-Kams and he still had them trained on our most important parts as we were walking up. I guessed that was just as well, though, because I'm sure we were looking a little uncertain. Carlie had just told two complete strangers that he - Elliott - had all his body hair shaved off... and then I'd backed him up on it.
So I wasn't too sure how he was going to react, even if Todd (and the others) did want to see what he looked like. Was he an exhibit at a freak show? Jeez!
But then on the other hand, he was recording the Scouts. Naked. So even if it was our idea in the first place...
"I can't believe that kid popped one right in front of you, " said Elliott excitedly, "but I swear, it almost looked like he didn't care!"
So even if it was our idea, Elliott was obviously enjoying it.
I couldn't believe it either, " I said, and you're right about something else: it didn't seem to bother him at all! He doesn't even know us!... So I have no idea where this is going... and it's not like we care, because before long we'll be on our way again, but... do you want to see where it's going?... Just out of curiosity, that's all."
Elliott snickered. "Oh, I do, but I probably need your camcorder. Only, I'm not sure if I can get away with it."
So he was feeling no guilt whatsoever, then.
Only: "For awhile, we probably should forget about the camcorder, i-Kams, the whole bit, " I said.
"Yeah, I guess, " started Elliott, "but... God. I'm almost tempted to go in... but I don't know how I'll explain it. You know..."
"Hair?"
"Yeah. That, " said Elliott. He was looking for an excuse, though, it seemed obvious enough.
So before much longer, he had one.
Then it started really getting weird! So much so, I think it deserves all of the next chapter, and after that...
More?
Probably so.
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