Pheew...can you believe that? What's up with Michael? Wiggling his wee willy at Jeremy. Does he want to play hide the salami with his bud? (Hide the cocktail wiener would be more like it). Let's listen in as Michael picks up the narration...
By Paul Schroder
Did I just hear what I thought I heard? Did Jer just tell me he'd like to play with my peepee ...my shlong...my semen pen? Yea...right. I might have perv thoughts like that but never Jeremy! I've never heard him say one thing about sex as long as I've known him. But I sure as hell heard it now! Come on Jer, where's the rest of the joke? He delights in embarrassing me and this just has to be one more trick. Only...if it's a trick, why is he just standing there staring at me? He has an expression on his face like he'd just saw his mother naked. Pure shock on his features.
You know what? This is no joke. He doesn't have a funny punch line. He just let something slip out of his mouth that he probably wishes he could suck right back in! He said he wished he could play with my dick...and HE MEANT IT!
"Oh...my..." and I couldn't finish the sentence.
Jeremy's expression has gone from shocked to frightened. I'm sure I can see his eyes tearing up. And now he's just quickly turned around so as not to have to face me. He droops his head and put his hands up to his temples.
Oh God, he is so embarrassed...so ashamed. I want to run up and hug him, wrap my arms around him...but wouldn't that embarrass him too? What can I do to relieve his tension? And then it hit me. I'll do something he would never, ever expect from me. I'll do to him what he did to me...I'll STRIP!
Now...you need to understand something right now. You probably don't know this, but I am a bit shy when it comes to showing certain of my body parts. I was probably the youngest child in history to learn to wipe his own butt and to bathe himself... just so my mother couldn't see me naked anymore! I think I've managed to hide my shyness pretty well, but that doesn't mean it isn't real. So this just shows you the respect and love that I have for my friend that I am even willing to contemplate what I am about to do. `Sigh.'
I undo my cutoffs and slide them and my jockeys down to my ankles. `Oh...God. I can't believe I'm doing this.' Then I push my clothes over my shoes. When I stand back up I am buck naked from waist to ankles! `I sure hope the hell there isn't an all girl biology class touring this field.'
I am standing there, underwear in one hand, feeling a cool breeze blowing across my you-know-whats. Jeremy has started to move, he looks like he's going to walk away. So I shout at him...
He slowly responds and turns around. He is staring at me with this hang dawg expression that, slowly, reverts to wonderment. Now he has this unbelieving look on his face and his mouth is just kind of hanging open. That's when I start to dance around and mimic what he did up on the rock.
"Somebody help me" I yelled, "Jeremy just stripped me and he is going to do unspeakable things to my ANUS", and I wiggled my butt at him. `Oh, good! His face just lit up like a boy at a circus.'
`Arggg' I just couldn't take it anymore. I dropped down to my butt and started pulling my jockeys on over my shoes. I lay on my back, and then quickly slide them up to cover my unmentionables. I glance up at Jeremy and he is just staring at me with this look of total, happy amazement on his face. Leaning over, I grab my cutoffs and, still sitting on the ground, pull them over my shoes. I hear a sort of giggling now. Using my shoulders, I arch my butt off the ground and jerk my pants the rest of the way up. The giggling has changed to full throated laughter as I am zipping and snapping my fly. I look up to Jeremy and his face is just beaming.
"Har...har, Michael. You just set a world speed record whipping off your pants and undies...then you doubled the record in putting them back on again!" He was slapping his knees. I smiled back at him and felt my face flush a bit.
"Well..." I started to say, as I stood up, wiping the grass off my butt,
"...I just don't happen to be a world class exhibitionist like someone I could name."
I was feeling pretty good. Jeremy's faux pax had faded into the background by my clowning around. The tension had been broken and we were free to continue on with our normal bantering.
"Yea, It's true...you're no exhibitionist" he countered. "In fact, I am probably the only person in history, outside your Mom, to even see your naked butt! That is, if the four second exposure could even be called showing your butt."
I was smiling back at him and I countered with...
"Listen buddy. My Mom never saw as much of my butt as you just did. I was probably the only baby in history that learned to change his own diapers to preserve his modesty" I lied.
Michael was wiping tears of enjoyment out of the corners of his eyes as we started gravitating back towards the rock. When we got there we just kind of sat down, side by side. There was a bit of awkward silence then...
"Michael" he says.
"Yea" I answer.
"Michael, what I said back there...I...er" he started.
"Never mind dude." I replied. "Don't say anything... cuz nothing happened."
There was another moment of silence. We were just kind of looking ahead, not looking at one another. I was twiddling a stem of grass around in my fingers, Jeremy had his arms folded over his knees.
"We both know what I said Michael. And I guess...by your actions and everything...you don't... hate me for it?" he asked, looking at me.
I glanced over at him.
"Don't be a dumb ass. We've been friends since grade school." Then I smiled and said..."Why should I care if my best friend is some kind of a perv meister?"
He grinned back at me. We only held eye contact for a second though, and then we were looking forward again. We were a bit embarrassed about this conversation and where it might be leading. At least I was. I was hoping we could just drop the whole thing. But it wasn't to be.
"I guess I am some kind of perv meister," he continued. "in fact for the last few months it seems like I have had constant sex thoughts. I don't remember ever thinking about sex before, and now...and now it's like all I ever think about" he tells me, rushing his sentences out.
"But the thing is..." he goes on, "they aren't regular sex thoughts." A few seconds of silence, then..."They aren't about girls" he adds, quietly. "So...you're right, I am some kind of a perv. But I don't know what to do about it. I try...but I can't focus those thoughts on girls like...like I should...I mean I try and try."
He just sort of tapers off. His confession stated, he was content to just sit there and let me absorb it all. By laying it all on the line like that, I guess, he needed to know if I could accept him, baggage and all. And I honestly didn't know how to respond to him.
Look, this is my very best friend ever. There isn't anything in the world that I wouldn't do for him. But the thing is, I didn't know if I had it in me to be as honest with him as he was being with me right now. He had outed himself by accident, and now was willing to bare his soul to me. But I wasn't outed...not yet! And I was far more frightened of my sexual thoughts than he seemed to be of his. It was like, now that it was out, he was relieved. But I was maybe even more clammed up than ever. I just wasn't ready. How could I just come out and confess to him what I was still trying to hide from myself? So, my reaction was...to have no reaction. I just continued to stare ahead. But I knew that some kind of response was expected so...I just leaned over and patted him on the shoulder. I hoped this was telling him that I heard him, that I understood what he had to say, that I felt his pain and that I was still his friend. I know...I know, it was hypocritical, but still...it was all I was willing to do right now. I needed to do a lot of thinking. I have been having sexual thoughts too. And, there aren't any girls involved in my thoughts either. Shit! And I do mean shit!
Jeremy sighed and then stood up. Looking down at me he must have seen my pensive, introspective look. He says...
"A penny for your thoughts, Mic."
That breaks my reverie, and I look up at him. I decide to go for a little levity.
"You'd probably be overpaying me Jer. I was just thinking, if you used Mr. Conard, our fat math teacher for your wanking fantasy, maybe that would scare you straight!" And I grinned at him.
He just shook his head, a big grin forming on his own face. He replies...
"Careful Mic, I just might end up putting an apple on his desk and winking at him!"
"Arrgghhhh" and I clutch my stomach, falling onto my side.
"No...no, Jer. You are not supposed to reinforce this. You are not supposed to put pictures like that into my mind".
His t-shirt is laying on the rock next to me so I grab it and throw it at him. Jeremy is on a roll now.
"Ah, yes, I can see it now. Mr. Conard," I would say, " I have this recurring fantasy about your naked globs of fat undulating and swaying as you play the pan flute and dance for me. I would ask you for a lap dance... if I had a death wish."
"Har...har...STOP it Jer! I'm serious. It will take a lobotomy to get that picture out of my head."
He's got me rolling around now. I'm putting my finger to my mouth and making gagging noises. Jer is giggling.
"I think you're just jealous Michael. I'd have some one to make out with and you wouldn't." he makes kissing sounds.
"We'd go to the movies...share popcorn...our hands would touch...then I would slide onto his lap. Oh... wait a minute...he doesn't have a lap...har, har, har!"
"Oh my God Jer...you're a sadist...stop it!" I was laughing so hard I had trouble catching my breath. I was visualizing everything he was saying and, believe me, it was not a pretty sight. Except the part where Jer slides off Conard's stomach when trying to sit on his lap!
"Oh my God, Jer. You know what you've done don't you. We are never going to be able to sit in that man's class now with straight faces."
I was looking up at him with this mock serious expression.
"Now Mic, you know full well I can't look at anyone with a STRAIGHT face. I`m not straight!" He makes this floppy, limp-wrested wave at me.
I'm laughing without sound now. He has my gut aching. He's definitely enjoying his effect on me as he sits down beside me, dropping his t-shirt onto my face.
"I don't know about you," he says "but I am certainly ready for that delicious repast, that epicurean delight, you have so graciously prepared for our consumption" as he daintily reaches for my pack.
Oh, God. He's still on a roll. I pull his shirt off my face, and lean up on one elbow to watch him. It would take a crowbar to get the grin off my face. He's lisping and making exaggerated feminine movements as he pulls the sandwiches from the pack. He delicately pulls the plastic wrap from one sandwich, his pinky fingers pointing out. Folding back a corner of the bread he announces...
"No chips on this one. This rather bland, unimaginative sandwich must be yours" and he hands it to me, holding it between one finger and a thumb, as though it offends him.
"Thank you kind sir" I reply, taking the sandwich. God, he should be on Saturday Night Live.
"Now this.." he proclaims, while presenting his sandwich with a royal wave, "is a sandwich with panache, a true gourmet meal. The Onion-Garlic chips blend with the aroma of Strawberry jam to make you absolutely drool."
"Uggh" I reply, munching my sandwich.
He sets his sandwich on his lap and reaches again for the pack. I sit up more so I can enjoy the floor show and eat.
He makes a show of rummaging through the pack while saying...
"We neglected to pack that Bordeaux Lafitte 1969...but there is a fine Coca Cola 2007, with a rather delicate bouquet. Oh dear, Michael..." as he gives me a delicate swish-slap, "you didn't even pack a single wine goblet."
I'm giggling around a mouthful of peanut butter and jelly sandwich. He hands me a Coke.
"I'm going to have to sip this directly from the container Michael. My goodness, I do hope none of our friends drop by...they will think we are such uncouth bitches."
I spray a huge gob of sandwich all over Michael! (Well hell, you try to eat and laugh at the same time.)
"Cough, cough, cough."
Jeremy delicately wipes the crumbs and bits of jam from his naked chest. The peanut butter is kind of smeared. He's picking at the larger pieces and dusting his fingers off. Then he admonishes me...
"I don't imagine you packed a single wet-nap did you deary?"
That got him a spray of Coke and set me on a coughing spell again.
"Damn it Jeremy..." when I could finally talk, "are you going to let me get any of this stuff past my tonsils?"
I tear off a bite of sandwich in mock anger and start chewing.
"Don't be a silly billy Michael..." and he makes that limp-wrested wave at me again.
"I have something to push past your tonsils my dear."
That earned him a huge, wet glob of sandwich right in the center of his chest. I was on my hands and knees now and Jeremy was slapping me between the shoulder blades - it was obvious I was about to choke to death!
Finally - "God damn it Jeremy! I guess I'll just wait until I get home to eat, you sadistic PRICK!"
"Tich...tich, Michael. How come I'm the gay one...but you're the one talking about pricks?"
"Ohhh" I groaned and stood up. I needed to walk around for a bit. My stomach hurt from laughing and I was still coughing.
"Jeremy, I - will - be - getting - even" I told him and picked up the bug net and started walking towards the creek...the sandwich forgotten.
"Oh come on Michael..." he said to my diminishing back side, "I'll let you finish eating, honest. Beside, I don`t know what you`re bitching about...I'm the one that got the jelly spray and the Coke bath!" I kept walking.
Jeremy rewrapped our sandwiches, picked up our Coke cans and walked over to where I was fanning my hand through some grasses, looking for insects. He watched me for a minute then walked over to the creek.
"I'm setting your cola in the creek Michael, to keep it cool" he tells me.
"Thanks" I reply, looking up at him.
He looks at me and I smile, to show him I'm not really upset or anything. After all, he's right, he is the one that got sprayed on. He is busy scooping up water to scrub at the jelly and peanut butter on his chest and stomach. I can't help but stare at him as he busies himself at the water. His tummy is flat and his chest has these cute, dime sized nipples. It's funny, I've not had fantasies about him before...but now...it's like some blinders have been removed from my mind. With his recent revelation to me, I feel this strong physical attraction towards him.
`Christ, it's not fair' I think. I force myself to look away. `I don't want to have these feelings...these thoughts. I want to be a Dad some day. I want to be a normal guy with a normal wife and a normal family and live a normal fucking life.'
I spend the next half hour or so wandering about, absently kicking at grasses and turning rocks. I am lost in my own thought processes...my own little world of confusion and self pity. Jeremy seems to be lost in his thoughts as well. We occasionally look towards one another and smile. Actually, this isn't really unusual behavior for us. We often spend time together absorbed in our own thoughts. We have always felt comfortable enough with each other's company that constant conversation isn't necessary.
And, to tell you the truth, I was feeling mightily guilty right now. It's a feeling like I am leading Jeremy on. I am lying by omission. I am allowing him to think that his thoughts and feelings about me aren't reciprocated. But if I were to tell him how I really feel...then there is no turning back. I would be acknowledging something that I desperately wanted no part of. To accept it would be... to give up trying to change my thoughts. Surely, I prayed, this is just a phase. I once thought I would start thinking about girls when I reached puberty...but that began months ago. Still, I can't give up hope.
I hear him call out to me. I look up and he is waving me over. He is about 50 or 60 feet away and bending over something. I abandon my own search, since I wasn't really looking at anything anyway. I wander over to Jeremy.
"Look at this newt, Michael."
He is holding this semi-amphibious creature in the palm of his hand. About 3 inches long, it is brownish black on top with a tomato red underbelly. It is the Red-bellied newt -Taricha rivularis. A truly beautiful thing. Jeremy holds it tenderly. He is looking at it in his hand and gently stroking it with one finger.
"Rinse your hands when you set him back Jeremy. You know they have a neurotoxin in their skin" I warn him.
"Duh, Michael, I think I'm the one that told you that...brainiac."
`Oh, yeah' I thought.
I find my own gaze wandering to Jeremy's shoulders. I had never really noticed that fine dusting of freckles before. And there was a little, tiny mole at the tip of his left shoulder blade. Now, how the hell can a mole look so cute? And when he shifts, his shoulder blades stick out like little wings. I could just about slip my hand between them. The little bumps of his vertebrae spiral down his back to disappear in the waist band of his jockeys. About an inch of his underwear are peeking above his pants. Their brilliant white such a contrast to his summer tan. I smiled to think of the contrast between his tan and my white, white skin. I rarely went around bare-chested outdoors. I just didn't feel comfortable exposed like that. I know its silly. It's just the way I am. Jeremy, on the other hand, seemed to have no modesty at all. I started to chuckle.
Jeremy looked up at me. He smiled and asked me what I was laughing about.
"I was just remembering something" I said.
"Do you remember...it was the beginning of summer and you were over at my house. My Mom and Dad were gone and they left Suzzane in charge?"
"Oh yeah," he responds "and Suzzane snuck her boyfriend, Freddy, up into her room!"
We were both grinning now, like whores with a clean pap-smear.
"And I said, `Jeremy, I dare you to walk into my sister's bedroom with just your underwear on.' And then...and then you did me one better and you stripped to the buff..." I was having trouble talking and giggling at the same time. Then I continued...
"You told me to gather up your clothes and wait down at the foot of the stairs and then...and then you walked bare assed into her room" chortle, chortle...gasp.
"Yeah, yeah" he continues. Then he says...
"Her and Freddy were on her bed making out. They both looked up when I walked in...then I said `oh sorry Suzzane, you said to wait until Freddy left.' Then I walked back out...Har...har...snert."
"Oh God..." I snorted back, "then you ran down the stairs and we took off to the garage. You got dressed and we disappeared until my folks got home."
Jeremy was laughing so hard he had to use both hands to set the newt down without squishing him. We were both on our backs. OH God, Oh God!
It took a little while, but we were eventually breathing normally again. We both leaned up on our elbows to face one another.
"Hey," he said, "you never did tell me what she said after you went back into the house."
"Well..." I replied, "she couldn't say anything to my folks, she wasn't supposed to have Freddy over there. She snuck into my room later on and called me all sorts of names and said she would find some way to get even. Then I asked her what Freddy had said...about her playing footsies with you."
I started chuckling again. The story had to wait a minute.
"And...and" Jeremy prompted.
"She said Freddy just laughed. He said he knew that a dick that small wasn't going to satisfy my sister!" And I was rolling again. Snort...snort...snort.
"Oh you damn LIAR, Michael." Jeremy stood up.
"She didn't say that! Now what did she say?"
I was really guffawing now.
"I kid you not Jeremy. That's exactly what she told me." and I was holding my stomach.
Jeremy was quiet for a bit and then he said...
"She had a few hours to think. She just said that because it was one way she could get even with me. You know that...don't you Michael?"
I just nodded my head. I was having trouble breathing again.
"I know Jer...I know. That's why I never told you"...snort, snort, chortle.
"I figured you wouldn't want to know" I said, grinning up at him.
Jeremy just grinned back at me and shook his head.
"That wench" he said, "I'd give my eye teeth to know what Freddy really had to say about it. Knowing Freddy, he called her a tramp and a few other choice names."
Jer reached his hand down to me. I let him pull me up. I think we had both had enough of the great outdoors for one day. He rinsed his hands off in the stream. Time to go home and play some Nintendo. Time to get absorbed in some mind numbing activity that would let the past few hours settle out. When we got to my house we filled the remainder of the day playing games and surfing the net until Jeremy had to go home for the evening.
It was later that evening, as I lay in my bed reliving the day, that my mind wandered back to Jeremy's soft shoulders. Then my hand wandered to something that wasn't quite so soft...and nowhere near my shoulders.
It seems like just overnight I have gone from this innocent, happy, carefree boy into this...sexually charged perv machine. I used to think that wanking was just the British term for winking. Now I was winking almost every single night - sometimes two or three times. I couldn't believe how much pleasure could be derived from such a simple animal act. Now I know how the monkeys in the zoo keep their sanity through their captivity. They just wank their cares away. It works for other species as well. Worried about your grades?...wank, wank. Worried about a pimple?...wank, wank. I know it doesn't make my problems go away, but for the short time that I am in sexual nirvana I don't give a horse-apple about the other stuff in my life.
Afterwards, wiping my belly with a tissue, the guilt feelings wrapped themselves around me again. Damn, this was not an activity, or the type of fantasy, that was going to help me to change. Despite that, I drifted off to sleep thinking about Jeremy's nipples.
Poor Michael. Why is it that so many gay adolescents aren't able to just go with the flow? Wouldn't this be a terrific world if they could just celebrate their feelings like a straight boy? Well, let's hope Michael gets things sorted out. It is a shame to grow up having missed an opportunity for love. But somehow, I have the feeling that things are going to work out for our duo. Trust me, I know the author.
Many of you told me you wanted to see Michael and Jeremy doing the old bump and grind in this chapter. Hey, these are sweet boys, with real problems and honest feelings. Where's your empathy? Drop me a line at firstname.lastname@example.org. Do we keep them virtuous or not?
Copyright February 2007. All rights retained. No duplication without author's permission. No posting on another web site without approval. No way Jose.