This story is still intended for mature audiences. And I also don't want any mean people reading this story.

Oh, and one other thing: Oj, då! Nu åker han baklänges!

I'll translate later, all right?



Are You Scared Yet?

Chapter Seven





Stephan's email took my mind off Carlie and Earl a little, but it was still difficult not to be wondering what they were up to right then – or how long they'd be up to it - or if either of them would then be inclined to tell me what they'd been up to...

And I was also wondering if I wanted to know in the first place.

But aside from all that, answering Stephan's email still might have taken more than an hour, because I wanted to say things just right.

I started out just being chatty. Like for instance, telling him where I was. (“You might not believe this, but I'm in the middle of nowhere!)

Only then I assured him that North Dakota was an interesting place to be. Carlie's driving – that was interesting, and I went to some lengths about it, including how fast we were going and how he'd almost scared the shit out of me that first night. But I decided that for the time being, I wouldn't say anything about being scared out of my clothes or any of the other activities.

But I had to mention how I'd saved Earl's life, because that's awfully good newsletter material, and in this case I decided I could also mention that since there aren't many people living around here, we'd decided to take our clothes off and just wade across. Only when Earl went under, we lost our clothes and so we had to walk back to his house naked! To me, “naked” is an important keyword, so I wanted to get it in somehow. Because, after all, even though well-bred boys like Stephan aren't always inclined to getting naked in front of their webcam at the drop of a hat, I had to think that he was at least considering it.

Only then I was stuck again, because I trying to think of a way of making sure that Carlie and Earl weren't going to be around for at least an hour or so Friday night.

In fact, I was thinking that really, their being elsewhere for the entire night might be the best idea, but that brought up another question, and that was how long it would be until John started wondering why Carlie was leaving me by myself.

Right then wasn't much of a problem though, because I'd already come up with some good reasons. One, Carlie got up a little too early for me. Two, I needed to get caught up on my email anyway. And three – and this was the best reason - I was expecting some big packages that afternoon, because my mom had shipped my DVDs, the all-region player, my camcorder and my Nikon by UPS.

But as for why I felt like I needed an excuse to be by myself, it's simple enough. John didn't seem to be all that judgmental, but still, there was no way of knowing how he'd react if he were to discover that his son and Earl were having sex. Sooner or later it was likely to come out, but my guess was, they still wanted it to be later. How much later I didn't know, but almost certainly not right away. Because, come to think of it, whether my mom could accept my being gay or not, I still wouldn't want her to know I was actually doing it until later on. Doing something your parents might not approve of – even if it's only because they think you're too young – well, that just makes more fun!

So that's all settled, then. Or at least I hope so, but if not... well okay, most parents also accept masturbation as a part of growing up and have no problems with you doing it, but you're still not likely to be doing it in front of them, they're not likely to want you to be doing it in front of them, and in fact, you're not even likely to discuss it with them, now are you? Once past the birds and bees talk, that's pretty much it. (I never had to endure one of those talks, though: my mom just gave me a book to read.) Although it is true that she once walked in on me because no one was home when I got in from school. But she closed the door real quick and then a little later when a bit red-faced, I saw her in the kitchen, she just said, “Don't worry about it, but next time, close your door, all right?” and then she laughed, and that was all there was to it.

So at least now the first part of my reason for wanting an excuse to not always be hanging out with Carlie should be clear enough, but the second part was, there were a few things he was interested in that I wasn't. Like fishing, for example. He'd brought it up before, but I just shrugged and said I'd just as soon not. I never saw any point to it, not from the time I gave it a try in Florida and all I ended up catching was blow fish. That, along with clumps of seaweed and a rubber boot, but nothing you'd think about eating, so from then on, I'd had my fill.

Carlie's also an avid hunter, by the way. He could barely wait until August 15th, because that's when goose season starts. Then September 1st, it's okay to blast mourning doves. Doves! But what he was really looking forward to was October 3rd, when he could start shooting at pheasants again. I'd like to see some game birds, but I have no intention of shooting them. But once again, I digress.

Well, sorry, but at any rate, Carlie and I at least had some cultural differences, so every once in awhile, he'd be off doing his thing and I'd be doing mine, it was that simple.

But that's why it took me so long to finish answering Stephan's email. In closing though, I told him that he was the best friend I'd ever had. I wanted to say it more than once, but I didn't want to sound like a wuss. Although I did preface that by saying that I was just as capable of being one as he was. Even if he only was a little, I didn't mind as long as he didn't care if I was one, too.

And if you think about it, that's a good hint.

Or, at least, I hoped it was.


0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0


But I finally hit the send button, sighed, and went downstairs. So I was out on the front porch swing idly swinging, thinking about life in general and wishing UPS would show up with my stuff when John walked out, and.... well, I just have to write about this. I have to, all right?

Because it's really interesting. It started out with John saying, (without sounding like he was upset about it or anything), “So, Carlie's run off and left you huh?”

So of course I shrugged and answered, “No, not really, it's just that he got up a little too early and I needed to get caught up on my email anyway, so...”

And so on for a little bit, but anyway, after him saying he guessed Oxmar was a big change from New York, he wondered if I wanted to ride along with him while he took Abe's truck out for a test drive, just to see if Carlie really had it fixed. So I said sure.

Well, for ten miles or so it seemed like it was running all right, but then we hit a hill and the truck began to cough and sputter. So before much longer we were pulled over to the side of the road with the hood up. John was messing around with the carburetor or the choke or something and I was behind the wheel giving it gas whenever he wanted me to. That was a another first for me, and it was fun imagining that, between the two of us, we'd get it running right.

Well, I was really was helping, you know, and after ten or fifteen minutes, we had. Until something else happened, but at least we made it up the hill without any problems. So having just been behind the wheel giving it gas got me to thinking about learning how to drive a little, so I was watching closely while he shifted gears, just to see how it was done. Push the clutch in, shift to the next gear, let it out real quick. Push the clutch pedal in – all the way to the floor – then shift real quick to the next gear. And there was a diagram on the gear box showing where the different gears were. 1st. 2nd, 3rd, 4th and R. It looked pretty simple. But that's all I was doing, I was only watching to see how it was done, when he glanced over and asked, “So. You want to learn how to drive this thing?”

So of course I was looking at him pretty doubtfully at that point, but he quickly added, “Oh, I don't mean out here on the highway, I don't think either one of us is ready for that yet, but we'll take the next turn into Atkins... it's a ghost town, so don't worry about that... unless you run over one of the ghosts... but they generally behave themselves, so... want to give it a try?”

Atkins is an interesting place. There was an abandoned church, four houses (still standing) and what used to be a gas station. That was it. John said he thought the last family moved out sometime in the 50s. I definitely wanted to visit there again, when I had some time to look around, but...

Right. Driving. Well, after a few minutes of grinding and clashing and then suddenly sputtering to a stop, I really was. First, back down the little hill. If you're getting used to a clutch, it's easier going down than up. But then we turned around and I went back up that hill. Then I dragged Main. Then after a minute or so, I got it into reverse. It was either that or run into the old church, and then I backed up – although I was weaving a bit at first - but I did it without running off the road. But I still could see where some more practice on getting it into reverse and backing up was in order, and so I did for at least fifteen minutes until I almost had that part down. And the whole time, John was very patient except for sometimes cracking jokes about it. He's really cool.

But of course I also practiced going forward, and it seemed like I was a lot better at that than I was at backing up. I drove for at least thirty minutes, including back on the road taking us to highway 85. I didn't drive on the highway, but I drove right up to the intersection and sometimes I was going over forty miles an hour. Funny thing, if someone else is driving, forty seems awfully slow, but if you're driving, it seems a lot faster.

I only almost went into a ditch once.


0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0


Then when we got back, my packages were sitting on the front porch. No sign of Carlie and Earl – and I did think about that briefly – but then I shrugged inwardly and thought something like: “Well, apparently it's going pretty good. Wonder what they're doing right now?”

But no matter, because now I had something else to do. Only I suppose that story-wise, I should stick to a condensed version of my chase scene editing.

So let's just say that it kept me occupied for better than two hours, and I was barely getting started. John seemed to be very interested in what I was up to, so I hooked everything up downstairs. Some of the scenes were pretty cool. Like for example: Well, just one, okay? There's a car chase in “To Live and Die in L.A.” where the two guys being chased eventually end up going the wrong way down a freeway. It's from one of Carlie's movies and I have no idea what's going on, and I also don't care, but at any rate, first the guys being chased lose the ones chasing them by cutting in front of a train. Then they plunge down an embankment and into the L.A. Spillway and the guy in the back seat says, “I think we lost the muthers!” and he's very happy, but...

Well, I thought he was cussing too much. Normally, I have nothing against it, but in his case, it was getting on my nerves, so I replaced the sound track with the opening credits from a Lone Ranger show. William Tell Overture and everything. Bang bang! “Hi-yo Silver, away! ... A fiery horse with the speed of light, a cloud of dust...” bang bang bang! “The Lone Ranger rides again!” bang bang...

So they just think they've lost the muthers... but then back to the original until even more rogue Federal agents magically appear - except apparently none of them can shoot very well...

So okay, then I abruptly cut to a scene from Star Wars I – The Phantom Menace where young Anakin has just flown into the bowels of the enemy mother ship and is trying to stop, then I cut to “Oops. Let's get out of here!” (fire ball) then back to Live and Die...

Until they were going the wrong way down the freeway and the guy in the back seat was yelling at the oncoming traffic, “Get out of the way! Get out of the way!” That's really helpful. So after the second “Get out of the way” I decided it was time to replace the sound track again. Just a lot of crashing and horn blowing and yelling anyway, so I found “The Pilgrim's Chorus” from “Tannhäuser” on YouTube, and I let them crash and dodge oncoming traffic to that.

And so on. And I could go on with this, to great lengths...

But I shouldn't. So I won't. Not ever again. Except for maybe...


0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0


But I worked on the project for awhile longer, then we went to the restaurant to get something to eat. John and I did, still no sign of Carlie and Earl. So I didn't worry about it.

We drove the truck again – it was about three blocks – except they don't have blocks in Oxmar – but, at any rate, I talked John into letting me drive back. So I wheeled into the driveway smooth as can be and there Carlie and Earl were at last. They both looked surprised, so I honked at them.

Only, now they were being circumspect. Although when a little later I whispered to Carlie, “So, how did it go?”, he grinned and gave me a quick thumbs up sign. Right then, Earl was looking up places to camp out in Montana and Wyoming, so I mouthed back, “That good, huh?”

Carlie nodded almost shyly, and then motioned me outside into the hallway. So I was thinking I was about to get some of the juicy details, but he just whispered that he'd be staying at Earl's that night.

So I had some mixed emotions, but that also reminded me that I didn't really want them around Friday night either, so I mentioned that along with his excuse for it.

Carlie shrugged and said, “Yeah, well, we were thinking about it anyway. I mean, neither one of us wants to leave you out, and we won't, I promise, but right now, we're getting to know each other.” He paused, then added significantly, “I mean really know each other.”

I was on the verge of asking him if he meant that in the Biblical sense or not, but I thought better of it. I mean, I certainly didn't want to be nosy...

Except that I did too. So I looked at him and I managed, “So... you want to go into any more detail? Was it fun?”

“Yeah, it was,” he answered. He was trying to be enigmatic, but he wasn't all that successful because of that wicked grin he had on his face.

So I tried to act cool about it. “Sounds good,” I replied knowingly.


0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0


When I woke up Friday morning and remembered that Carlie wasn't there, for awhile I was feeling pretty glum even if I'd only spent four nights in the same bed with him. But thankfully I had another email from Stephan. It was short, but he assured me we'd talk more that night. Or, at least, we would if I was going to be by myself. So that by itself sounded interesting, and coupled with the remark that he wanted to know more about my walking back to Earl's naked, I could see some potential. Because, after all, the only other time we'd discussed nudity, we'd ended up in the same sleeping bag.

And he also mentioned that he'd be wearing his kilt again, so that gave rise to even more questions.

We'd done the video conference routine before, but then we were always just talking about things in general. Usually, it was about school work, so unless you want to count a few jokes and a small amount of cussing, there'd never been a hint of impropriety, not even when he was in his Black Watch (Royal Highland Regiment) of Canada regalia.

Well okay, I'd had some improper thoughts, but up until then I'd kept them to myself. And really, he almost had a good reason for it. The summer before, while on vacation in Canada, he'd seen them perform, and right then he decided he wanted to learn how to play the pipes. (There are some pipers in New York, and they also wear kilts when they perform. It looks more authentic that way.) But after hearing Stephan play...

Let's just say it was horrible. I googled the subject not long afterwards and you can't simply pick bagpipes up and start making music, it's a complex task. There's a lot to do at the same time, but once you inflate the thing and the reeds start sounding, either you can or you can't, there's no middle ground to it. He said he was playing “Scotland the Brave.” So what I told him was: If that tune was of any importance to the Scots, they'd shoot him.

He said his mom had already threatened to do that. He's good-natured, that's probably what I like about him the most. Although his opting for a practice chanter didn't hurt either.

But I really did think he looked awfully nice in his kilt, so I also googled “What do Scots wear underneath their kilts?”, and even though I'm still not sure if they're serious, the most common answer was: “nowt.” While engaged in battle, it's easier to relieve yourself if you don't have buttons and a belt to undo first. So traditional kilt wearing does not involve the use of underwear. Although, of course, I'd always assumed that he was wearing something underneath – while we were discussing school work...

Well, whatever, I fired off a quick answer, assuring him that I'd be by myself and I'd answer any questions he might have. Then I added that I'd send him a few good North Dakota photos in a little while, although these would all be G-rated. At least for now, they would be. And that was a another good hint, I thought.

But see, I was hoping John was around and if he wasn't too busy, maybe we could take the Ford Ranger out for another trial run. So what I really had in mind was some shots of me driving. And maybe we'd have time to look around Atkins a little more – lots of good photo opportunities there – but when I went downstairs there was a note on the kitchen counter saying he'd be gone for most of the day.

So I guessed I'd just take a few pictures of Oxmar. I took some from the front porch, then I wandered back to the garage and took a couple of the Ford Ranger. That, plus the Hemi Plymouth. I even opened the hood to get a shot of the motor. It probably wouldn't mean any more to Stephan than it did to me, but it still looked impressive.

Then down the street a ways, I took one of the First National Bank, opened in 1913. That's what it says on the front. Although now it's boarded up, and it has been since 1960, I think. But human interest, that's what I was after, so I also took one of the old Senior Citizens’ Center (the roof's caved in, so it's no longer in use either), then there was the train depot (also long since boarded up) the railway bridge over the Little Missouri (I walked out as far as I dared, because it's deteriorating as well), then I got one of the ice machine in front of the restaurant (because somehow, it just struck me as interesting), and a few of the Lutheran Church. Every other Sunday morning they still have services there.

I was sure no one would mind as long as I didn't bother anything other than the pigeons, so then I climbed up into the steeple and took a few panoramic shots of the town and surrounding countryside. You could see Lake White, and on wide-angle, I could get all the way from there to Earl's. There's almost no way anybody could have been up there with a pair of binoculars when we were making our way back that day – Earl and I – but even so, just knowing, was a bit unsettling at first.

But then when I thought about adding a white line showing Stephan exactly the way we'd been forced to go – naked - that's when I started getting another boner. From my vantage point up in the steeple it looked like we'd been right next to the highway for at least fifty yards, so there was almost no way we hadn't been seen by whoever was in the cars that passed by us. At the time, we were running as fast as we could and whether it's rational to think that just because we were afraid to look over at the two cars passing by, in turn, those passers-by would somehow not notice us...

We really didn't want to think about it at the time, but when it dawned on me that there was no possible way we hadn't been seen, I started getting stiff again.

I didn't do anything about it up there, though. I wasn't even tempted, because like I said, I wasn't going to bother anything.

So I waited until I got back home. Actually, I was hoping that I could put it off for several hours, because I was hoping I could tease myself for a very long while. Or at least, for a little while, just gradually making myself hornier and hornier. That would have been a great way to pass the time. I really enjoy looking at myself. I'm not sure if that makes me a narcissist, but I've performed quite a few strip teases in front of my mirror.

Well, maybe all thirteen-year-olds are narcissists, but at any rate, Carlie had given me a pair of cut-offs he'd outgrown, only I hadn't worn them outside because they were a little large on me. Not a lot, but it still wasn't difficult to see up my legs.

So I put those shorts on and, after setting the timer, I placed the camera between my legs. Then after a bit I put it on the floor between my legs for a few more, and if everything went the way I hoped, I'd be sending them to Stephan soon enough.

Only thinking thoughts like that shot “slow and gradual” all to hell, because all at once I wanted to be truly daring. It was the first time I'd ever taken any pictures of me poking myself while jerking off, and it sure looked interesting. Just thinking that I might send those his way. Although once the inevitable conclusion had been reached, I was thinking no way, I couldn't conceivably send him anything like that.

Unless maybe he wanted to perform a similar act on himself. Then I would.


0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0


Of course once I'd shot off a lot sooner than I'd hoped when I first started thinking about it, I was let down. But if you're drained, well, you are, and that's all there is to it until the next time. So now the question was: what else could I think of? It wasn't even noon yet!

It really was a long day, but I watched one of my movies again, and at least that took me into the afternoon. Then I went to get something to eat. Then I went out looking for some more good local shots. Then I tried putting together some more car chase scenes, but I wasn't into it very much, so after sending most of my G-rated stuff and after making sure for at least the tenth time that my webcam was working properly, I finally gave up and just channel surfed for the rest of the afternoon.

I did up until five, and then I started getting nervous, because finally, it was time. (It was seven back in New York.)


0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0


The first thing I was worried about was that because of having a new ISP, somehow something was going to mess up, but I needn't have, it went off without a hitch.

I'd thought long and hard about how to dress and I finally decided on those cut-offs, but with a pair of Loony Tunes boxers on underneath. And it wasn't a case of my chickening out, either.

Well, maybe just a little, but I was still playing things by ear, after all. And it wasn't like I couldn't get out of them, if Stephan wanted to get naked, then I would too, but I didn't know if this was going to happen or not, so I opted for casual and cool. No shirt, no shoes or socks and no belt, so sitting down, my cut-offs came down about an inch below the waistband of my boxers. Cool, casual, and open to suggestions, but not gauche, you know? Certainly not.

Only I wasn't sure if Stephan was being gauche or not. I didn't mind, but as promised, he was in his kilt. And he also was wearing grey knee socks, so below the waist about all I could see were his knees, but above the waist, he was shirtless. He had a blue and green plaid sash slung over his left shoulder, but I thought he looked stunning, slightly sunken chest or not. Stephan's around 5' 3'', only he's about my weight, so he's definitely not ripped either.

Stephan cleared his throat and pretty soon we were into all the customary stuff, followed by several questions about my new life out on the frontier, but finally (and without much warning) he offered, “Well, you certainly look informal enough. Even if by now, I figured you'd probably being going commando.”

So that was a fairly intrusive question and I was glad one of us had finally managed to get his nerve up. Although really, I didn't even catch a hitch in his voice. At least, not at first. As for me, I'm not sure, but I shrugged as nonchalantly as I could and said, “Well... believe it or not, I've been doing that some. I don't know, they're just not very civilized around here.”

“But you think I am, right?” He sounded disappointed.

“Well...”

“I used to be,” he continued, “but... maybe I'm not so much now. Civilized, I mean. You know, proper. I don't really have to be any more, you know?”

And that's how it started. It was pretty lame, I guess, but I knew right then that things were about to get interesting again. I was on a roll! So... “Don't go anywhere, I'll be right back,” I said hurriedly and with that, I moved off-camera, shoved my cut-offs and undies down and off, then pulled the cut-offs back on. If he wanted me to go commando, then that's what I'd do. I'd never played peek-a-boo with anyone before, but I'd played it with myself often enough, and usually, I was imagining someone else being just as interested. Well, apparently, he was! So after all that, I have no idea why I even bothered trying to act cool and nonchalant, especially since I now had a small tent to contend with. I glanced down at myself, and if you knew where to look, it was obvious enough.

And it's also difficult to feign indifference if you're blushing and I'm almost sure I was doing that as well. But at any rate, “Well, I'm back,” I announced, “and I decided to take your advice and get less civilized.”

“Yeah, it sort of looks that way.”

“Yeah, I guess so. ... So... Well, okay, I'm just curious, is all, but when you said... well, that you weren't as civilized as you once were, well, exactly what-”

And then I stopped in mid-sentence because he grinned shyly and put both of his feet up on his desk. So just like that, I was looking up his kilt.

It came as a shock. I honestly wasn't expecting it right then and there, I was thinking he'd wait until I finished my question, even if it would have been awhile before I finally reached the end of it. But after a sharp, involuntary intake of breath, I managed, “Um... that's pretty uncivilized, Stephan.”

I mean, I was still in the process of putting it all together. So I wasn't trying to scare him off, I was just saying the first thing that came to mind.

Although really, my first thought was: “I just saw his boner!” In only a few days, I'd seen Carlie's and Earl's and now his. Of course I'd done more than look at Carlie's and Earl's, but they're interesting, you know? Stephan's sure was. Soft, he's not very big, so even though I thought it was cute, I was also thinking he wasn't close to starting, but hard, it was about three and half inches and as big around as mine. But then my next thought was, “It doesn't even look like he's uncircumcised. What happened?

Well, it was all a surprise, but because he'd never done anything like that before, he thought I was trying to put him down. So he quickly put his feet back on the floor and after a few seconds, he started, “Sorry. I didn't think-”

Fortunately, I was more experienced than he was. I'd never been flashed on webcam before, but since it seemed like I didn't have much to lose, I cut him off with, “I didn't say I was upset,” and with that, I put my feet up on my desk. It's nothing more than a table, really, but still...

Stephan glanced up and after a brief pause, he said, “Well... about all I can see right now is a butt cheek. Camera's not positioned right.” (I had an inseam, he didn't. Plus, my dick was pointed upwards.) “But,” he continued, “you know, what we're doing... or trying to do... it's not uncommon. It's doesn't mean we're weird or anything. Honest, the way I've heard it, it's almost normal. ... I mean, I haven't ever done anything like this before, but-”

“First time for me, too,” I assured him. I thought it was sort of funny, how now he was trying to encourage me to... do what, exactly?

“So... Well, I've heard... some interesting things... about webcamming, but...” and I trailed off, because I wasn't quite sure how I should put it.

So finally I gave up on putting it into words. I just stood up and started working on my cut-offs, easing them down, slowly, inch by tantalizing inch. It probably would have worked out better if I'd ever seen a strip tease before, but I gave it my best, even if I only had that one piece of clothing to start with. But first, I quarter-mooned him. Then a half-moon. Then oh, what the hell, a full moon. Then I jerked my pants back up, turned around and said, “Sorry. I don't know what came over me.”

“Oh, I didn't mind.”

“Really? Nice ass, huh?”

... “Yeah, it was okay, Nathaniel.”

So I started easing things down in front and I still had his attention. I guess so, because all at once he exclaimed, “Hair! You got some hair!

“Well, I had some when we were at the lake, doofus.”

“Yeah, I know, but I didn't think I should let on about it then. ... I might be starting to get some too.”

... “You're kidding.”

“No, I think it's about to start. ... You can look for yourself, but... well, go ahead and get totally naked, all right?”

So that took care of the bump and grind routine. I still had to mention that I had a boner, though. I just thought I should.

Only he said, “Yeah, I've been aware of that for quite some time, Nathaniel,” and then he started trying to put me at ease again, I swear to God, he did.

“It's normal, okay? We'll probably grow out of it, but lots of boys our age goof off the way we are. So let's not worry about it, all right?”

So I started to mention that I wasn't quite as ignorant as he seemed to think, but I caught myself at: “Yeah, well, I...” because it suddenly occurred to me that Carlie had been leading me on as well. Or at least, he thought he was. And come to think of it, Sean thought he was too and the truth is, I like being surprised.

And I was. First, because I had no idea how sexy Stephan was going to look wearing nothing but his knee socks. Although later on when he was wearing nothing but a shirt (naked from the waist down), well, that was even sexier, but he's sexy no matter what. It's not his looks so much as his personality, and when you mix that with him thinking he was being a little bad and leading me on, as far as I'm concerned, it's about as sexy as it can get.

Although I was still wondering where his foreskin went. Only I wasn't sure how to phrase it without looking dumb, so first, we congratulated each other on our magnificent erections. We tossed in some obvious over-statements coupled with adjectives like turgid and rampant, but eventually we went looking for his incipient hair. I'd ask about his foreskin later. And I could have just taken his word that that wispy blond fuzz he pointed out really was the start of it, but not surprisingly, I wanted a closer look.

And so I was happily looking when Stephan asked, “Um... so you can sperm, right? A little?”

Yes! “Ah... yeah. It's not really mature yet, but-”

And I was going to ask him about his foreskin, whether it sounded dumb or not, but he cut in again with, “I'm not sure if I can or not. Sometimes when I wake up, I'm a little damp, but-”

“I think you need to get yourself another book on growing up,” I interrupted. “If it's wet sometimes, then you're on your way. Really!”

“Well, maybe I need to get one that's written a little more down-to-earth, but the way I understand it is: It's different for everybody. Everything is. But... well, you want to try it? Now?”

At that moment, I couldn't think of anything better. And so in a remarkably calm tone of voice, I allowed that it seemed like a very good idea.

I never did have to show my ignorance of foreskins though, because soon as he pulled up on it... well, there it was again. In fact, he even pointed it out. As in: “See? Now I look almost like you do.” (He'd pulled down. But then he pulled back up, and...) “But now I don't. Cool, huh?”

Yeah, it was. So while there never had been any doubts as to whether I was going to save our session, now I was also going to make some back-up copies. Several, in fact.


0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0


There's a scene in “Midnight Express” where Billy Hayes is being visited by his girl friend for the last time. So he's on one side of the glass and she's on the other and he asks her to show him her breasts and then he masturbates, but as you might expect, they're both crying while that's going on.

I'm not saying that our webcam session was like that, because after all, I wasn't looking at a life sentence and neither was he. It could have been sad if we'd let it be, but it never was, because I always felt some hope. We both did.

Although I was having some trouble not thinking stuff like, “If only I'd known!

But oh well, the past is gone and the future doesn't exist yet, so...

I have trouble accepting that simple fact of life sometimes, but no matter because right then the present was more than decent. There was no reason to rush, so we were just leisurely stroking ourselves and giving each other pointers on how we might maximize things.

I asked, “You ever rub on your nipples like this?” and with that, I started slowly rubbing around my right, then my left. “It feels weird,” I added.

“Well, I have, but... I think mine are a little too... sensitive. ... Or at least, they can get that way, but...” and he decided to at least give it one more try.

But it wasn't working as well as it reportedly works for others, because I'm a bit sensitive there too, so then I wondered if he'd ever messed around with his balls while he was at it. “It's a really good erogenous zone,” I assured him.

“Well, no shit, Sherlock... Yeah, that's a good place, all right,” and we started massaging away. Of course it was difficult not to think about how much I would have liked to be doing that to him – his balls are definitely getting plumper – but all at once, he opened his legs and his free hand slowly moved down...

To there. “You ever rub down here?” he wondered. Oh my...

There's nothing unique about his hole, but when he opened his legs and I saw it for the first time, if I'd been as bad off as Carlie, that would've done it. In regard to having a hair trigger, I mean. One second, my ass.

But, “Yeah, that works good, too,” said I and I pulled my fingers away, quickly spit a little on one and...

Stephan giggled. “You know...” (spit) “there's a school of thought that... ohhh!” (He was. We both were.) “says... some people... say this is... ohh... isn't... normal!”

Forthrightly I replied, “Yeah, well, I think if you got a button, you have every right to push on it if you can find it.” (Actually, there were a few more pauses punctuated with ohhs and ahs in my reply, but it doesn't serve any additional purpose to include them, so I won't.)

“Damn right,” said Stephan.

Then several breathless minutes later he said,“I think I'm getting close.”

“Me too.”

It was awesome.

And by the way, once finished, the tip of his softening penis was a little wet. And I produced... well, let's just call them small jets. Two of them. Two jets and a dribble. Or maybe two dribbles – except dribbles generally ooze out all together, so it's not like there's any singularity to them - but whatever, it was nice.

Only believe it or not, it was about to get better. Just as long as I could avoid all the “God! If only I'd known!” thoughts, it was beyond my wildest dreams.

Well, actually, I fantasize about all sorts of things, so okay, it wasn't beyond my wildest dreams, and while we're off into semantics here, it also didn't matter if I'd known about it beforehand or not, because either way, it still was.

So how about beyond belief then? Based on how I'd perceived him prior to that night, it honestly was.


0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0


Because once we'd gotten off, we didn't bid each other good bye, no way. We had all night.

So we talked. But we didn't stay naked the entire time, we did some modeling. Stephan had a small collection of shorts he'd outgrown and I have a feeling there were a few more he'd picked up at a Thrift Store or something. But the idea was always to provide some nice distractions. “Oh, I don't think you'd wear that out in public” - “Well, I might. You never can tell”... and so on... like for example: a jock strap, but it was both distracting and entertaining. There was a lot of giggling and snickering, and needless to say, we also managed to get ourselves aroused again, so that was cool. Watching his glans slowly sliding back out into the open was way cool. It was taking us awhile to recharge, but proceeding slowly was utterly fantastic. Almost always, we were talking about sex, though. Occasionally we'd be on other subjects for awhile, but we always got back to the main subject. Of course if you're sitting there with your bits out in the open more often than not, sex is probably going to come up before long anyway, but still, at first it seemed like we were basically trying to assure each other that we weren't really gay. I intended to tell him that I was eventually - but not right away.

Only it wasn't long until it was more like we were saying that we weren't necessarily gay. Or if we were, it still didn't mean that we'd stay that way for the rest of our lives. So at least I was making progress even if I was still trying to sneak up on it.

Only it seemed as though he was as well. So for instance, he still wanted to know about my naked walk back from the lake. Everything, including whether I popped one while I was walking in plain view of the highway. “I mean, that would be the worst!”

We weren't walking, I told him, we were running as fast as we could, but... “Well, actually, I did.” So I was embroidering things, but I also got the impression that he really wanted to hear that I had popped up stiff, so I figured why not?

“Really? You did? ... So... well, tell me about it. What happened? Did Earl pop one too?”

“It's contagious,” I answered, “so yeah, he did. But you know how it is, you start getting hard, like in class or something, well, you can try wishing it back down, but once it starts, it's going to happen no matter what. It was straight up! And bouncing around and all... but... well, it was embarrassing, but... well, now that it's over, at least it was interesting.”

“Yeah,” Stephan giggled, “it looks interesting now. ... I like watching it. ... It's cool.”

“So's yours,” I answered.

“So I guess that's a bad sign, huh?”

... “Depends on how you look at it, I guess.”

“Yeah, I guess so too. ... I almost had something like that happen to me last summer when we were visiting my grandparents in Pennsylvania. My dad's side of the family. Ever hear of a town called Womelsdorf?”

“No, I haven't.”

“It's near Reading. But it's a nice little town and my dad was thinking about us moving down there. Slower pace of life. Nothing came of it – obviously – but anyway, I have a cousin down there. Zach. He's a year older than me and apparently he'd made some enemies because one morning when I was with him, we were ambushed by five of them. So Zach took off running. Only problem was, he took off into some woods and I didn't know where he'd gone, so they caught me instead. And I could make this into a longer story, but they pantsed me. Totally. I was naked from the waist down and one guy had my arm twisted behind my back and they were marching me back down to the Tulpehocken. ... That's the name of the creek. Want to know what tulpehocken means in German?”

“Um, okay, I'll bite. Because it looks like you're going to make it into a longer story anyway. So what does it mean?”

“I'm just trying to give you a little background information, Nathaniel, but it means tulip squatting. That's what Zach said it meant.”

“Well, maybe the settlers were sitting on their bulbs. ... You know, like a hen? But meanwhile, you've been captured by five locals and they're marching you butt naked down to that creek, so...”

“Well, I was only twelve, but I could still see that there could be some more problems, only Zach rescued me. He was far enough away so that they couldn't get him, but he popped out and what he said was: if they wanted to end up in juvenile until they were eighteen, then they should go ahead and do whatever they wanted to do to me, but what they didn't know was, my dad was a U.S. Attorney. So once I'd recovered from the part about them doing whatever they wanted to me, I had to admit that it wasn't a bad bluff, because it worked, they let me go. And Zach had my clothes because they'd just left them on that path we were on... but wouldn't you agree that that was a traumatic experience?”

“Oh, definitely. Even if it could have been a lot more so.”

“Yeah, I imagine it could have been. But this is where it gets weird, because I've dreamed about it a few times. Only once, instead of it being in Pennsylvania, I was cornered down in the subway station and this time they stripped me naked. Totally. And I had the impression that I was about to be raped, but in the end, they left me, so I'm just embarrassed as shit, but for some reason – you know how dreams are – I got on the train that way. Naked. That's when I'd wake up, dreaming that I was standing there with everybody pretending not to notice when I knew there was no way they couldn't, and I was getting a stiffy in front of everybody on the train, and when I woke up, well, I had one. I was hard as a brick. ... So that's weird, huh?”

“Well, damn, Stephan, dreams are almost always weird.”

“Yeah Sigmund, I know that. But... okay, I'm going to tell you something else, okay? Sometimes... sometimes I actually fantasize about it, you know?”

And I swear, he was looking at me sort of entreatingly, so I admitted that I'd popped one when I started thinking about sending him that picture, so maybe we were just exhibitionists.

“Yeah,” he laughed, “we probably are. ... And it seems like we're really enjoying it right now, huh?”

“Well... yeah.”

“So what else to you fantasize about?”

“Um... well, I don't know... if you're having a fantasy, almost anything is permissible, you know?”

“Sometimes I think about being locked up in juvie. I can't imagine why I ever would be, but... well, it's hard to explain, really.”

... “Well, again, I...”

And I was about to mention some of stuff I'd read about in some of those books of sexual fantasies. Including the fact that some of them were gross, but in the end, I didn't bring it up that night, because right out of nowhere, he asked me, “So... you ever hear of a site called Nifty? ... It's a story site. You ever hear of it?”

For a few seconds I almost froze. I wasn't the only kid in New York who knew about that site, you have to figure that much is a given, but it never occurred to me that anyone at my school would be aware of it, and certainly not my best friend.

But under the circumstances, what did I have to lose? So I shrugged and said, “Yeah, I go there all the time. ... So how long have you known about it?”

“About a year. So you know what... shit. I'm not any good at this. But... Okay, dumb question, then. You know what those stories are about, right?”

“In some cases, I know what they're about by the first paragraph. Yeah, that was a dumb question, Stephan. Because there's no way of not knowing. So... what's your favorite section?”

“Young friends... some of them... sci-fi's cool, high school works out sometimes... how about yourself?”

“Definitely young friends, and... well, I go to the prolific writers and sometimes they'll have stories posted in sections I might not normally go to, but if they're good writers, I'll probably check it out, but... well, what I mean is, are you saying...”

“I haven't ever come out to anyone before, Nathaniel. ... But I guess I am.”

I grinned and said, “Well, me too. By now, it seems likely But you probably guessed that much already. If I'm always going to Nifty, that's a pretty good hint, right?”

He laughed a little shakily. “Yeah, I'd say so.” Then he rushed on, “But I'm so relieved right now. I didn't know if I could say it to you or not and I'm not sure if you were here now, I could've ever gotten up the nerve, but... well, now, I really do wish you were here.”

Needless to say, right then I wished I was too.


I was going to wait until reaching the end of this story before mentioning this, only as it stands now, the end will not be reached until October or possibly even November. I'm hoping that not too many readers are thinking that this is a bad thing – my story going on that long...

But nevertheless, that's how it is, so instead of waiting until then, I think now would be a good time to say thanks to my friend, author of The Nexus and primary proof-reader, David Clarke. This story wouldn't be what it is without his help. I'm certainly not saying it's the greatest ever, of course not, but trust me, it could have been worse.

If you're at all into sci-fi with a gay undertone though, then soon as possible, check out The Nexus, which is to be found in gay-sci-fi. I think you'll enjoy it a lot.

Oh, and I almost forgot. “Oj, då! Nu åker han baklänges! That's Swedish, (in case you're interested) and translated, it means, “Oh, no! Now he's going backwards!”

But I'm hoping that now you understand why this story almost has to go backwards for awhile. Even if the Swedish bit is probably more in reference to traveling backwards in an automobile.

Well, whatever, it will not go any more backwards. It might take awhile for things to reach a full boil again, but look at it this way. Once the pot's boiled over, then the story's almost over too, right?

So for better or worse...

Next chapter, more details.


jjjanicki@gmail.com


Copyright 2010: all rights reserved. Please do not reprint, repost or otherwise reproduce this or any part thereof anywhere without my written permission.

J.J. Janicki