Jordan in Okarito
by Kiwi
Chapter 11 - Jordan and Gene - 2
Then a strange thing happened. Jordan had been waiting for hours, watching the minutes tick past with agonising slowness. Ever since Gene had said that they could 'do stuff' in bed, he'd been
longing to get there and do just that.
There was no way that he could concentrate on the old Playstation games that they were playing and Gene cleaned-up, bigtime. All Jordan could think about was how gorgeous the sexy boy beside him was – every last little bit of him! - and what he was going to do with him when they got naked and in bed together.
He didn't know that his dick could stand so rigidly to attention for such a long time.
It happened at last, they slid into bed, stripped their undies off, threw them out and they lay naked, side by side. He knew that he could do, pretty much, everything with Gene, except anal, and – he didn't want to!
His body agreed too – his rampant erection turned into a limp sausage. That was not normal for an ever-horny teenager, and he couldn't understand it.
Gene wasn't helping, he obviously didn't know what was going on any more than Jordan did and he lay there, on his back, like he was waiting for something to happen – and nothing was!
So, why? He didn't know, it just didn't feel right.
"Something wrong, Jordie?"
"Mmm? No, I was just thinking. It's late, Gene. It's late and I'm tired. Let's just go to sleep." He reached up and turned off the overhead light.
"To sleep? But that's not what you . . . Okay, let's go to sleep. G'night, Jordie."
""Nite, Gene."
They turned on to their sides ands lay back-to-back in the dark, but neither of them was sleepy now. After a couple of minutes, Gene rolled on to his back. "Jordan, what's wrong? Don't you like me or something?"
"Oh, Genie!" Jordan rolled over as well. "Of course I like you, I like you a lot – love you in fact, very, very much."
"Why don't you want to do the sex stuff with me then?"
"Because, well, because I do love you. Yes, that's it! That's what's wrong here – I do love you and I don't want to make you do anything that you don't want to. You're my mate, my good friend, that's precious and I don't ever want to lose it. You love me too, I know you do and that's why you'd have sex with me even though that's not what you'd really like."
"Yes, I admit it – you're right. I was only doing it because you wanted to and I do love you – heaps!"
"So – are we okay?"
"Oh, yes! We are very much okay. Now come here and cuddle me because I really do want that."
"Not a problem." Jordan rolled onto his side and put an arm across Gene's broad chest. "I totally want that too. Don't stop loving me, Genie."
"Never! Don't you stop loving me either."
"Not in this life."
Arms around each other, they relaxed into sleep.
Gene woke in the morning, he opened his eyes and the first thing he saw was Jordan, lying there studying him." 'Morning. What time is it?"
"Good morning to you, and it's still early – just after 7am. Sleep all right?"
"Idid. How about you?"
"I had a great sleep and now I'm going to have a great day, with my mate. Thanks for coming to see me, Gene."
"I came because I wanted to see you. Thanks for having me here. What's for breakfast?"
"Whatever we can find, but maybe we'd better put some clothes on first."
"Sounds good to me. I tried frying sausages in the nuddie once, it was not fun! Never again."
"Why's that? Did you stick the fork in the wrong sausage?"
"I did not! But fat spits and splutters."
"Umm, yeah. I think we'll stop talking about that now. So, are we okay, Gerne?"
"We are very okay, Jordie. Better than ever. Now let's see what today brings. You've got a town to show me."
"Best get moving then."
They ate – toast, muesli and fruit. Well, you have to eat something healthy, sometimes. They cleaned-up the kitchen, which didn't take long – there was a dishwasher. It was always best not to leave a mess for that bloody Steve to moan about.
There was no-one else around, Sis was still in bed and Jordan's Mum was at work at the Diner, so he locked the door when they left. They walked down the street in the early-morning sunshine.
"It's a nice day. I thought it'd be raining all weekend."
"Well it's not. You struck it lucky."
"I did, didn't? It rains a lot here, doesn't it?"
"Way too much,"Jordan sighed. "It doesn't really rain here any more than it does in Brownsville, but when it does, it's hard-out. None of that sissy drizzle stuff that they get in Christchurch."
"Right!"
"So where do you want to go to?"
"I dunno. You're the boss, we'll go where you want."
"Oh – okay, back to bed? No? We'll go down to the beach then."
"Right. Good beach, is it?"
"No, it's crap, more pebbles than anything, but it's famous for the surf and good fishing too – so they say."
"They say all sorts of things. We're not surfing and we're not fishing, so – of course we'll go to the beach."
"You see penguins down there sometimes. They're pretty cool."
"Yeah, you'd like penguins – they're shorter than you are!"
"Zip it, Genie."
They saw no penguins on the beach, just pictures on signs warning people to keep their dogs away from them. There were some surfers out where the waves were breaking, but they were so far out they were hard to see – just little black-suited figures way out there. There was no-one else on the beach.
They walked all the way along to the rivermouth where the lagoon drained out to the sea. It was hard walking on the loose pebbles but got easier as they went because there was more sand close to the river.
The old town was hardly visible from there, it was mostly hidden behind the scrub at the back of the beach. There was a couple of people with surf-casting rods out, but not much was happening.
The rivermouth was flat and not very wide, but it was way too deep to wade across. So they gave up on that and walked back up to the old wharf.
The river-port was busy once, but it was hardly used anymore, apart from a few small fishing boats. Most of the old wharves had been demolished but there was one small section left and one of the sheds there was being used as an office and reception area for the kayak-hire business.
They both had sand in their shoes, so they sat on a seat outside the wharf-shed to clean them out. A few people were milling around, inside and out, a group of kayaks was coming back in and a couple more were going out.
They sat watching, enviously. One day, they agreed, they'd do that, when they were richer.
A long, squat, broad and dark-coloured boat, something like a covered barge, was coming down the lagoon behind the kayaks coming in.
"Isn't she a beauty?" A teen boy sat on the wharf in front of them.
Jordan had seen this guy around a few times. He was famous in the school because he only turned-up when he felt like it. No-one else would get away with that but this kid did because he was super bright. It seemed like there wasn't much they could teach him anyway.
"Isn't who a beauty?" Gene replied. "Do you mean the boat? Looks pretty ugly to me."
"Yes the boat. She's called The Lady. She is not ugly, she is a thing of beauty – long, low and elegant and perfect for what she's built for."
"Oh yeah?" said Jordan. "What was she built for? Scaring the locals?"
"No way," the boy smiled. "The exact opposite actually. She is designed to get up close to the birds out on the lagoon without scaring them off."
"Why? Going to eat them?"
"No! We're going to be taking tourists out on sight-seeing trips around the lagoon."
"Okay. But isn't that what the kayaks are all about?"
"Sort-of, yes. But, in The Lady, they don't have to do any work, they're out of the weather and they'll get a running commentary from the guide."
"Okay," Jordan shrugged. "That'd suit the lazy old buggers, I guess. Not as much fun as paddling yourself though."
"Maybe not, if you're fit and strong. Not everybody is. Anyway, it's a new venture for the Kayak Kompany. We're launching it next weekend. Today we're just trying her out – sorting out the routes, times and turning points and so on. She'll be going out again in a few minutes, would you two like to come for a ride?"
"Yeah, right! Like we can afford that!" Jordan scoffed.
"Jordie's right," Gene nodded. "It looks like fun, but we're just schoolkids. We can't afford that."
"There's no charge. I'm offering you a ride for free. So, do you want to? It'll take a couple of hours."
"Don't think so," said Gene. "Thanks but no thanks."
"No? Why not? It's perfectly safe. If The Lady did sink, which she's not going to, the water is so shallow, she could sit on the bottom and the roof would be high and dry. Nothing to be afraid of."
"Yeah, c'mon, Genie. Don't be a wuss!" said Jordan.
"I'm not a wuss! That's not what worries me."
"What then?"
"When something looks too good to be true, then it probably is too good to be true. Why would a total stranger offer us a ride on his boat for free? All seems a bit too suss to me."
"Hey!" the boy laughed. "I'm not suss. My sister's piloting the boat and there'll be about a dozen more people on board."
"Why are you offering us a ride then?"
"To fill up some seats. A photographer's coming out to take some shots for publicity brochures and stuff. You're a couple of good-looking kids, especially Blondie here, and you'll make our adverts look good. All you've got to do is sit there and smile and wave. You get a free trip. What do you say?"
"Free sounds good," Jordan nodded. "Seems legit, Gene. They just pictures of your handsomeness."
"You want to do it, don't you? Okay then, we will, but there'll be no taking off of clothes or anything like that."
"Of course not. That's not what we're doing. Anyway, have a look at some of these people here – that'd be disgusting!"
Jordan looked at the group, milling around and waiting for the boat to come in. Some were old and wrinkly, some were real fatties. One kid, about 8 or 9 years old, was a right little blimp! "You got that right," he grinned. "Clothes are good."
"Sometimes they're real good," the boy agreed. "I'm Bevan, by the way. I've seen you around, you're new in the school. Who's your mate?"
"This is Gene. He lives in Brownsville, where I used to live in the good old days. I'm Jordan."
"Okay. Hey, Gene and Jordan. Here's The Lady now. Jump in and take a seat. Sit near the back, if you can. You'll be closer to the camera there."
Bevan went off to talk to some more people who'd just got out of their cars.
"Busy place," said Gene. "Didn't you say that this is a new business?
"I did. They must be doing all right if they're expanding already, they've only been going a few weeks."
"Yeah, they must be. Let's get on board then."
It was a good way to pass a couple of hours, having lots of photographs taken of them and being informed and entertained by the girl called Cassie as they cruised around the lagoon and into primeval rivermouths. Out on the water, the lagoon looked even bigger than it did from the shore.
It was almost lunchtime when they got back to the wharf and Jordan led the way downtown. "Hungry yet, Genie?"
"Hungry enough. This is the way we went last night. Have you got more vouchers for pizzas?"
"Nope, they've all gone. Sally kept the lot of them."
"Where are we going then? I could buy something, I've got some money."
"No need. We'll go and see Kim, he lives in the pub where the pizza place is."
"Right. We're not scrounging for food, are we?"
"No, we won't have to. Wait and see, Mrs Springer tries to feed me something every time she sees me. She thinks I'm too little and Mum must be starving me."
"But she's not. You eat heaps – more than me, probably."
"Probably. I need it for the energy. Mrs Springer's trying to fatten me up."
"Oh? For Christmas, like a turkey?"
"No. I'm not a pig either – Don't say it! Mr Springer is a big guy and she's not little and she thinks that everybody should be like them. Except for Miss Clayton of course. She's a skinny little thing and no-one's trying to fatten her up."
"Why not?"
"Because she's Miss Clayton – you'll see. So, there y'go – Okarito in the sunshine. Have a good look, it's not often like this."
"Looks good in the sun."
"Better from a distance – the more distant the better. In this way now." He walked through the open front-door of a hotel. They went down the hall to the owner's flat at the back.
"Oh, hello Jordan." Mrs Harrison looked out when he knocked on the door. She had her painting overalls on again. "You're looking for Kim? He doesn't live here anymore."
"He doesn't? Have you kicked him out, Mrs H?"
"No," she smiled. "Not yet. He's moved back up to his room on the third floor, much to his delight. You know where that is, don't you?"
"Sure do. So he's up there now? Thanks, Mrs H. Come on Gene, this way now. Oh yeah – Mrs H., this is my mate, Gene, from back home. Gene, Mrs H., she's Kim's mother."
"Hello, Gene."
"Hey, Mrs H. I, umm . . gotta go I think!"
Jordan was already on his way up the stairs. Kim was coming down, he met them at the foot of the top flight. "Hey, Jordo. Up to?"
"Not much. We're bored, so we thought we'd come and see you."
"To use Mrs Brown's catchphrase – 'that's nice.'" (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JddNDtC-Yrs )
"You're learning! Will you be going back up again?"
"Later, yeah."
"We'll wait for you. We'll go and admire the view from the balcony up the top."
"No, don't do that. Come down and say hello to Mrs Springer. You know you want to."
With his most innocent look, Jordan said, "Oh? Is it lunchtime?"
"You know it is!" Kim grinned. "Come on, then she won't try to make me eat everything. Hey, Gene. Keeping Jordo in line, are you?"
"Hey, Kim. Not a chance."
"He's not gay, Kimbo. Don't go getting your hopes up."
Together, Kim and Gene said "Shut up/Zip it, Jordo/Jordie!"
Authors deserve your feedback. It's the only payment they get. If you go to the top of the page you will find the author's name. Click that and you can email the author easily.* Please take a few moments, if you liked the story, to say so.
[For those who use webmail, or whose regular email client opens when they want to use webmail instead: Please right click the author's name. A menu will open in which you can copy the email address (it goes directly to your clipboard without having the courtesy of mentioning that to you) to paste into your webmail system (Hotmail, Gmail, Yahoo etc). Each browser is subtly different, each Webmail system is different, or we'd give fuller instructions here. We trust you to know how to use your own system. Note: If the email address pastes or arrives with %40 in the middle, replace that weird set of characters with an @ sign.]
* Some browsers may require a right click instead