Date: Tue, 20 May 2003 14:23:22 EDT From: Manbklyn11218@aol.com Subject: SKINNY DIPPING AT THE FALLS SKINNY DIPPING AT THE FALLS By: Mischa Kosov On this July morning, 1943, each and every one of my mom's knick-knacks was meticulously lined up on the shelf in front of her ruffle curtained kitchen window. The dark blue porcelain percolator pot, with a little glass dome, was brewing the morning coffee and the pan of old-fashioned Irish oatmeal, dad's favorite, was simmering on the gas stove. Even though everything seemed to be perfect order in my family's world, I wasn't. I couldn't stop bouncing my right leg under the table. It was one of my nervous habits. "Stop fidgeting, James, stop it now," chided my mother. Everyone else calls me Jimbo, but not my mom. The name means I'm big like "Jumbo" and it's combined with Jim--so you got Jimbo. Made sense to me. When she called me James, mom must have been thinking I was going to grow up to be a preacher or something pure. That sure wasn't me. I acted and looked like a Jimbo. I was just a big, goofy kid who liked to have fun. Damn it! I wanted to get out of the house early this Saturday morning. Sometimes I struggle with being on time. It was 7:30 A M and I was gulping my milk, wolfing down a bowl of corn flakes and chomping on my toast. I'm sure eating so fast was going to bring some serious morning farts. I had to meet my buddies up by Handy's Diner in 30 minutes. A bunch of us were going on a bike ride to Seven Falls out in the county. That's about 3 miles from the city line. It was great place to bum around and go skinny dippy in the pond at the bottom of the falls. I didn't want to be late. The morning weather on the kitchen radio reported it was going to be sunny and in the mid 80's--perfect for bike riding and naked swimming. But over and over my mother kept nagging at me. "Don't eat so fast you'll choke--tuck your shirt in--you look like a wild Indian--walk your dog before you leave--you promised to take care of him when we got him for you and I'm not going to do your job." On and on she went--it was a pain in the place where the sun don't shine. "Yes mom. You're right, mom. I'll do it right away, mom." Something had to be said just to keep her quiet for the moment. All of the unnecessary things were done first and finally I walked King, my 14-month-old German shepherd. Then I quietly snuck into the kitchen, avoiding my mom, and grabbed a bag of food from the refrigerator. I loaded the grub in my Boy Scout backpack and quickly got out of the house. I tossed the small backpack in my bike basket and jumped on. As I started to ride off, King started to howl like moon-struck wolf--he wanted to go with me. When he was little, I'd stuff the pudgy pup in my basket and we'd ride together to the falls. He would romp in the woods, peed on as many things as possible and dog paddled in the pond. He'd sniff scents from small animals and maybe chase a squirrel that whizzed by him. But today I had too many things to do with the guys, so I just couldn't take him along. King was going to be a K-9 monster. He was pure mean muscle and already weighed 80 pounds. He could put his paws on my shoulders when he stood on his hind legs and was one a hell of a watchdog. Nobody could get close to our house without him barking to warn us. He was the John Wayne of the Dog World and if he could have talked, he probably would have said. "Listen up, Pilgrim, if you stay out my territory, I'll stop biting your ass and pissing on your flowers. You understand." When King snarled furiously, he was terrifying. Now he sadly stood with his paws on the top of the backyard fence and kept yapping as I pedaled down the block. Mom stuck her head out of the back porch door and scolded, "Quiet King, you'll wake all of the neighbors." The dog just kept barking. After a few blocks, I hit the Bradley Street Bridge and crossed over the Sunflower Electric Railroad tracks down below. The Sunflower was a very special little railroad. It was only seven miles long, shortest railroad in the state of Kansas, and ran from the city's Waterworks Power Plant to the Lansing State Penitentiary, where the prisoners dug coal at the Lansing mine. The coal was used to fuel the steam generators that made electricity for the city. The railroad ran right behind my house. When I was pissed off at my dad, I threaten him by announcing I was going to hop a freight car at the back of the house and run away. He'd laugh and jokingly said, " When you're ready let me know. I'll give you a few bucks so you won't starve to death. You're not going to get too far, Jimbo and watch out for those prisoners when you get to Lansing. They say they're nasty. When King gets a whiff of your 3 day old, smelly sox, he'll track you down. " After hearing dad's version of me skipping town, I'd laugh too and our quarrel would end. Dad had a good sense of humor and thank God, or he would have killed me when I was at my worst. One of the pranks the guys liked to pull on the Sunflower Railroad was to run behind the electric train and jerk the trolley from the overhead power line. The train would slowly grind to a stop and the furious engineer would get out of his cab cursing. "You little bastards I'm going to kick your bony butts---you ain't got nothing better to do than ruin my day. I'm goin' to catch all of you and tell your dads. Then they're goin' to whoop your asses till they look like rare buffalo meat." He kept muttering to himself as he put the trolley back on the overhead line. Then he climbed back into the train, threw the power switch and started her rolling again. At that point we came out of hiding and started pelting the back end of the slow moving train with small rocks we had gathered. We all howled with laughter as we bombarded the train. All we could hear above the noisy turning of train wheels and the sound of rocks bouncing off the rear end of the train was, "You little bastards I'll get you! I'll get your asses!" The engineer suddenly blasted his air horn and the wheels screeched. The loud horn scarred the crap out a jackrabbit that was crossing the tracks just ahead. With one giant hop, the rabbit jumped from the middle of the tracks and didn't get creamed by the train. This time he was lucky and escaped the vultures, which were always circling and ready to swoop down from the sky like a killer tornado. Mr. Jack scurried up a hill with a thick covering of heavy weeds and disappeared. I traveled a few more blocks and passed by Rosedale High, the school I would attend in September. It was great it was so close to my house. I was looking at the football field on my left and the running track that circled the field. The large, u-shaped red brick building was very pretty and was built in the 1930's under what was called the WPA: a work program started by Franklin Delano Roosevelt, our 32nd president. My dad told me times were very tough during what was called the depression. So many men, who were out of regular work, had to work for the government to make money, they built many great schools around the USA. Rosedale had a lot of great facilities like a big gym, baseball field, swimming pool, chemistry labs and a huge auditorium for plays and assemblies. I was looking forward to being a freshman at Rosedale. Enough said about my new school. I was now pumping hard to climb the long Bradley street hill. It's a steep one and I finally made it to the top. I was now at Main Street and hit a red light. Sweat was running down my face and my T-Shirt was wet, so I stopped and rested. Straight ahead there was a small, scenic valley. On the right at the bottom was the old Indian burial ground. Lots of history and mystery were connected to that graveyard. Indian chiefs and brave men and women were buried there. The Huron women, children and the elderly came down the Missouri River from Ohio to Kansas in 1843 in 2 steamboats. The able-bodied men rode across the plains to Kansas on horseback. Over the years, hundreds of Huron Indians were put to rest in this hallowed ground. The Hurons were not allowed to remain in the home they had established in Ohio; close to what is now Cincinnati. They went to court to fight for their rights to the Ohio land, but lost the dispute and were forced to migrate to the Kansas Territory. When they arrived in Kansas, they were just dumped off the steamboats by the captains. No land was provided the Indians to settle on, even though the US Government promised them ground. With no other place to go, they had to camp on the banks of the Missouri. In the spring of 1844, one of the worst floods in Kansas's history swept over the banks of the Missouri. It had rained for 40 days straight and disaster fell upon the 800 Hurons settled by the river. About two hundred died from drowning, famine and sickness. After this catastrophe, they kept carrying their dead to the high ground, about a mile from the river, and buried them in what is now the Huron Cemetery. They lost almost 25% of their population. To this day, this burial ground remains a National Landmark. Much of the city's heritage is based on what the Indians brought and accomplished this area. The Hurons were made US citizens in 1855, and for that right being granted, they gave up their claim to land they had purchased from the Delaware Nation. The cemetery is now directly behind our main public library and a little sitting park. I loved to go there to read the tombstones and be quiet by myself. One weathered gravestone was engraved with the following words, "CURSED BE THE VILLIANS THAT MOLEST THESE GRAVES". That was a quote from Helen Conley a self-proclaimed Indian witch. A few years ago I was walking with my dad on Main Street and we saw Miss Conley. Dad knew the woman and introduced me. She was very bent over, had a hump in her back and her face was deeply wrinkled. Miss Conley, who never married, had on an odd dress made from printed flour sacks, a long single braid of gray hair hung down the center of her back like an uncoiled snake and she wore tattered, black, high-top canvas tennis shoes with no socks. Miss Conley seemed to be very nice witch, nothing like a spooky witch--that must be so because she gave me a piece of wrapped hard cherry candy from the pocket in the front of her sack-dress. I hoped it wasn't laced with poison or some potion made from bat dung or something similar. I sucked away on the piece candy till the last sweet drop and survived. The Indian witch lived a very long life, and with her special powers, cursed many enemies of tribe. Her death came when she was 93, and all kinds of people---white--black--red--traveled from far and wide to attend her funeral. The blacks were important to the Hurons because they came as Christians to Kansas. Their minister, Mr. Steward, came with then from Ohio and he was a black man. Very curious combinations of people were related to this tribe that came to Kansas. Throughout her life, Miss Conley had been the self-appointed guardian to watch over this hallowed ground. It was said the spirit of her dead grandfather, Chief White Wolf, came to her in a dream and told her she had been chosen to defend the honor of her tribe and the sanctity of the burial ground. She followed her mission with unyielding devotion. She was buried as a Christian and had taught at the Methodist Sunday School for a good part of her adult life. The town folks would always remember old Helen as one memorable character--tough, outspoken and very courageous. By now you must have figured out that I was a history buff. Loved to know about things from the past as well as about what goes on from day to day. Some times when I was sitting in the little park next to the Indian cemetery, I would read a book I checked out from the library. Lately I had been reading about wars because the United State was dab blast in the middle of World War II. My dad, Joseph, served in World War I and was stationed in France. He was a bugler and called the troops to battle or to chow or to whereever they were needed. He enlisted because he had come from Eastern Europe to the US as a young boy. By enlisting in the army, he could earn his US citizenship in less time. Dad became a citizen when he came back from the war. He still had his army bugle hanging on the wall in the basement recreation room. When Joseph was a little drunk, he'd start to sound off about his past army days and would toot the bugle at family parties. Everybody laughed when he blew it and his cheeks would puff out like a Chinese blowfish. A Chinese blowfish--that's a hard one to swallow! I would try to blow it, but the only thing I could do was fill it full of spit. Shortly after the bombing of Pearl Harbor, my brother, Henry, enlisted when he was 18, and was shipped to an island in the far Pacific. He was serving as a munitions specialist in the US Army Air Force. Along with a bunch of his buddies, he signed up because all of them were stinking mad at the Japs for attacking Pearl Harbor and the Germans invading Europe. These guys all loved America and our democracy. They wanted to defend our country. No Hitler or Asian Emperor dictator's military was going to defeat the United States. That was for sure. "Jimbo, we're going to win," that's what Henry said before he shipped out to the Far East. I missed him a lot and hoped he would come back home safe and sound. Friends of my parents had already lost sons in combat and it broke their hearts. One mother was overwhelmed with grief when a telegram arrived notifying her of her son's death. Most friends of Mrs. Callen believed she never recovered from that shocking event. The trauma affected her for the rest of her life Her Melvin, just 20 years old and brilliant in math, was a bombardier on a B-17 and his plane was shot down over occupied France when returning from a bombing raid over Germany. His body was never recovered. Enemy anti-aircraft guns blew his plane out of the sky, as it was about to cross the English Channel. They were just 75 miles from their home air base and a safe return. Nothing was ever found to bury except a memory. A stone was engraved and placed on a grave with Melvin Callen's name. His mother's and father's hearts were filled with nothing except a never-ending emptiness and sorrow. Life can be cruel. So in my opinion, there was never a good reason not to have fun when you're a kid. Life is a delicate balancing act that is sometimes performed without a net. The unexpected can always be waiting just around the next corner. I was feeling guilty right now because Henry had sent me a Hamilton watch from a PX store. Some little bastard stole the watch out of my locker when I went swimming. I hadn't told him I lost it. He was good guy and I know he wouldn't be mad at me, but I felt bad that it was gone. I was going to write him a letter tomorrow and tell him about the bike trip to the falls. I wouldn't tell him everything--I'd leave out the intimate details. I wasn't the religious type, but I always prayed for my brother every night. A car stopped next to me, I looked over and asked the lady driver the time. "7:55 AM young man. You have fun and be careful today." I looked at my watch--it read 7:55, too. "Our watches are synchronized, just like in the army." I saluted her. "Thanks and you be careful, too." It was a bit out character for this middle-aged woman, but she saluted back and smiled. I smiled at her and we headed our separate ways. Now I had to pedal my ass off--only 5 minutes to get to Handy's. I looked at my watch again. Dad was a time freak--I must have taken after him. I had to move it. But I was not as punctual as he was. Suddenly something bumped into my rear balloon tire. I didn't know what hit me and turned around quickly. A giggling kid was looking at me with shit-eating grin on his face. It was Mickey, one of my biking buddies. "Jimbo, somebody better jolt your butt. You dilly-dally more than anyone I know." "And you're a pain in my ass more than anybody I know. You got more smarts in your ass than you do in your head. That's why you're always sitting on your brains " "And your brains are in your dick--and it's really small. You know what my sister, Betty, told me about men? "No." Betty asked me, "Do you know why a man has a hole in the tip of his penis?" No. "To get oxygen to his brain. With the size of your prick, you must be brain-dead." I shot back, "Screw off lard ass. Let's race to Handy's." He accepted the challenge. I thought to myself, my cock is not that small? It's a 6 incher and that `s not bad for kid who just turned 13. But Mick had told me he had a 7 incher. I'd seen his soft prick in the shower room at school. Maybe at the falls when we're skinny dipping, I`ll get a chance to play with it and feel grow to its full size That would be real nice. My dick jumped in my pants with that nice image of a hard cock. I adjusted my crotch and got ready to race. So we started to battle with our bikes for the last two-block stretch to the diner. Mickey had just pissed me off for what he said about my cock, and I beat him by at least 25 feet. I slammed on my breaks when I was right in front of Handy's, screeched to a stop, did a 360 degree wheeler with my bike and faced Freddy and Barnie, the other two guys riding to the falls. Mick charged in right in back of me. "Morning assholes. "You two jerks finally made it." "Jimbo, did your mommy make you wash her panties--that's why you were almost late. Did you finish all your chores? " "So you think your big brother Henry is tough because you found nicotine stains in his shorts? Did he smoke a cigar out of his asshole?" "Henry got more guts in his little finger than your "4 F" dad has in his whole body, Barnie! He was not even good enough to get drafted. At least my brother enlisted." "Hey, hear anything from your brother. Is Henry O.K.? Did he shoot any yellow-face Japs? Is he working on machine guns on P-40 and P-38 fighter planes?" "Hey guys here this one? It's from my little sister. It goes like this...One-one, three-three, four-four. Why was the ballerina naked? Anybody no why? Give up? She was missing her TWO-TWO." "What a puke joke." "Don't blame me--it's came from my little sister. That was followed by some semi-hard laughter. Speaking of semi-hard--I was still a little stiff because of thinking about Mick with a 7-inch boner. This back and forth joking went on for a few more minutes, but it really meant nothing to any of us because we all cared for each other. That was the bottom line. The crap flying back and forth was just guy-to-guy bullshit. "Lets cut the B.S. and head out to the falls," said Barnie the tallest and skinniest in the group. "I got to get a couple of things in Handy's. My pop is working for the government and the eagle must have shit or something because he gave me a buck this morning," chubby Freddy said happily. He always was munching on something. He went into the diner's candy counter and bought a few goodies. When he came out he gave each of us a piece of Bubble Gum. "Hey Freddy, you blow anything else besides Bubble Gum?" "Sure, if you pay me enough." "The little bastard has become a whore. He does licks and tricks for money," snapped Mickey. "How much for a blow job, Freddy?" "You ain't got enough money in your entire college fund to pay for my services." "Well, when I do graduate law school, I'll at least be the "blowee", not the "blowor". Mickey was already talking like a know-it-all lawyer. Everybody started to open his piece of Fleer Bubble Gum. Even though it chewed like rubber and had little flavor, everyone loved it because of the printed cartoons, riddles and jokes you found inside. `Oh, here's a good riddle for Freddy," said Mickey with a twisted smile on his face. "Freddy, what kind of Gum does a whale like to chew? There was silence. " It's BLUBBER GUM, FREDDY! " Everyone belly-laughed except fat Freddy. "It's a joke. Fred. Don't take it so seriously." I said that to break the mood that got cloudy because Freddy's feelings were hurt. Freddy spoke right up and said, "This one is for Mickey. What's a carnivore's favorite game...well Mick, what's your answer?" "I don't know." "SWALLOW THE LEADER--you prick." Everyone roared and moved in close to Mickey and blew big bubbles right in his face and then doubled up with more laughing. "Good one, Freddy." "Hard to top that one." "That singed the hair on his balls." "That's the way to kick ass, Freddy" It was the best comeback Freddy ever delivered. Everyone let him know he was winner. He appreciated that. Then Barnie chimed in, "This riddle is for Jimbo. Why did the boy eat his homework?" "To stop his case of the trots." "No, because his teacher said it was a piece of cake." "Rated from 1 to 10--that's a 4, Barnie. I always do my home work," I said that with a lot of exaggeration. "And you lie a lot, too," was Mickey's comeback. With all the riddles and ribbing out of the way, we lined up single file chewing gum, belching and blowing bubbles. Mickey was bike number one as we pulled away from Handy's. I was at the back protecting everybody's ass. I blew the expected big fart from gobbling the morning breakfast. The blast topped all the belches. Pee-Yew! Lucky I was outdoors. Even so, it was a killer and flowers started to wilt as I rode by. With farts like these, I could become a secret weapon in the war. I could just hear the news: US SOLDIERS ADVANCE! SUPER FART strikes again on the German front. Hundreds of enemy troops fall ill from potent one-man gas attack and are captured." The president commented on the morning news by saying, "It smells like a victory to me." A newspaper picture showed the commander-in-chief flashing the two-finger "V" sign with his right hand as he pinched his nostrils with two fingers on his left. We all headed west on Main Street and in a few blocks it became High way US24-40. So far traffic was light. The main part of the trip would be on county road 32 and we would intersect that road in about a mile. All of a sudden the traffic started slowing down and Mickey looked up the road to see what was happening, He finally saw what was going on. An army troop convoy was heading east. There must have been at least 50 trucks transporting a thousand soldiers, 25 Jeeps, Military Police vehicles, 15 smaller trucks towing howitzer canons and some officers riding in sedans painted army green. As we got closer to the trooper carriers, all traffic came to a halt. We stopped on the gravel on the off-road shoulder. Some guys in a truck leaned over the side to talk to us. "Hey bikers, where you heading today?" shouted one private dressed in fatigues. "We're heading out into the county to have some chow and go swimming." "Sounds like fun--I did that when I was a kid in Pennsylvania. "What different states are you guys from?" asked Mickey. The states began to be shouted out: "New Jersey, Virginia, South Carolina, Texas, Idaho, North Dakota, Montana, Colorado. Hey! Brooklyn, New York, here and many more were called out. "Hey kids, dessert," the soldier with the Brooklyn accent tossed 4 candy bars down to Freddy. "Don't you eat all of dem, kid--share dem with your gang." He sounded like one of the Bowery Boys. "I will. Thanks for the Snicker bars. They're my favorite." "Mine too. You bums kick ass and keep your noses clean." "You guys be careful, too. When I write my brother tomorrow, I tell him we met a bunch of soldiers on Highway US 40. My brother is in the Air Force in the in the Pacific. Where you heading?" "Camp Chaffee, Arkansas--a God forsaken dump up in the Boston Mountains. We're going to train on the canons we dragging down. Then we're going to ship out to a places unknown?" The MP's whistles blew and our visit was over. "Move it out. Move it out soldiers! Let `em roll." The whistles blasted again. The stopped truck's horn honked and there was a lot of yelling and cheers. It doesn't take a lot to get men or boys to make noise. The convoy started to move again. Many good byes and good luck wishes were exchange by everyone. "Roll `em out, bikers, roll `em out now!" yelled Mickey. "Lets get to the falls--I'm already hot," said Barnie. "I'm ready for a naked swim," I called out. Everybody chimed in: " That sounds good." "Lets move it." "Last one to the falls--first one in the pond. After biking through, by and over cow dung, horse manure. chicken droppings and run over, flattened raccoons and other assorted small dead animals, we arrived at Seven Falls. Next to the falls area was an old abandoned rock quarry. A dilapidated, rusty, steel conveyor belt stood in the middle of a field strewn with boulders and lots wrecked cars and assorted junk. The path, next to the field, that led up to the falls was twisting and rough, so we had push are bikes up the hill by hand. The last guy to arrive was Freddy, the slow poke, so he'd have to strip first and plunge into the ice-cold ball-shrinking water. Maybe our nuts will shrivel, but I was hoping our cocks would get hard. We got to the falls and the pond was full and clear. The spring water was flowing nicely. We put our bike to the side and unload a few blankets and towels. Everyone prodded Freddy to get out of his duds and get into the water. Freddy seemed to be bashful and wasn't moving very quickly, so we all attacked him and stripped him down. He stood there naked and put his hands over his crotch and hid his cock and balls. Freddy was really embarrassed to show what he had. "What's wrong, Freddy--don't want to show your manhood," nastily said Mickey. "I never been swimming naked and I'm embarrassed. I got a tiny cock," Freddy said timidly. "O.K., we'll all undress together and jump into the water together. How's that sound?" I said that to make him feel better. Freddy nodded a yes and we all started to strip. We took off our last pairs off jockey shorts and T-shirts and stood gloriously naked. Cocks to the wind! We joined hands and I started to count, "One, two, three! Junp!" We all plunged into the water. "Jesus Chrysler." "Holy shit." "Cold enough to freeze the balls on a brass monkey." "I'm turning blue." Everybody started to splash, move around and swim to warm up. "Wow, that's better," I said. "Let's play a game and swim through each other's legs under water. We'll form a line--first guy spreads his legs facing forward and the next guy swims through his legs and then you go to the back of the line and we do it again. O.K.? I'll be the first guy to spread his legs." I spread my legs and Mick was the first to swim towards me. I could see him in the water and when he reached my spread legs, his back rubbed against my balls. Boy!! I didn't feel as as cold anymore. All the guys went through and now it was my time to swim through big cock Mickey's legs. When I almost reached him, I put my right hand on his cock and squeezed it. I stayed under water a little longer and tickled his balls. Then I swam away. My body was on fire. Now I was at the front spread eagle and Mick was swimming towards me. He reached up with his hand and grabbed my cock and gave it a squeeze. I guess he got my earlier message. We finished a few more legs–through swims and we were all feeling a lot warmer. Yeah, a lot warmer! We separated and just started to play and splash. Mickey and I began to wrestle. That brought us very close to each other. I got a bear hug on Mick and brought him in even closer. I was pleased and excited too feel his hard cock on my thigh. I was hard, too, and let go of him. I reached down into the water and found his stiff prick and grabbed it. My wish had come true and I had his 7-incher in my hand. I reached down with my other hand and found his firm, shriveled balls and gave them a nice squeeze. "Hey buddy that feels real nice," he said as he reached for my hard cock. He found it and wrapped his fingers around it and started to jerk me. "Oh, Mickey that feel so good," and I started to jerk him harder and faster. "I`ve wanted to hold your cock for a long time. Every time I see your cock in the shower, I get hot and want to grabbed your monster right then and there." "And I wanted you to hold my cock, too. I wanted to jerk you also. With each of us stroking the other, I moved my face closer his and couldn't resist kissing him on the lips. My cock jumped and a wonderful sensation stirred in my balls. Mick kissed me back and shoved his tongue into my mouth. We kissed deep and hot. I separated from the hot kiss and then dove under the water. I found his hard cock and then brought it close to my mouth I sucked in his cock-head underwater. I sucked and sucked as long as I could and then had to take his beautiful prick out of my mouth and come up for air. "Wow," said Mickey. "That's the best. Jimbo. I think it's better than my mom's home made apple pie topped with ice cream. Could you suck me more--I'd really like that." "Let's go spread out the blanket and get comfortable. I'll suck me all you want. Maybe we can get the other guys into this game and we can have a circle jerk or something." Mickey agreed and the two of us got out of the water. Freddy and Barnie jaws dropped wide open when they saw our two hard cocks. "Wow," said Barnie. You guys got boners. How'd that happen?" "Our cocks got zapped by a bolt of lightening, bone head. We were jerking each other's cocks and you can see what happened. You want to lay down with us on the blanket and have some fun, too. You're welcome to join us. Both of you know how to jack-off--don't you?" asked Mickey. Both guys nodded yes. We took towels to the blanket and dried off. Mickey and I scooted down on the blanket next to each other and we motioned for the other 2 guys to lay with us. All four of us were now very close to each other. I reached over and jerked both Barnie's and Freddy's cocks. Just to get them in the mood. As I jerked both of them, their cocks began to rise to the occasion. I was getting them hard so they could start to jerk each other. Mickey was now stroking me fast. I was so hot as I lay on my back and Mickey leaned down and kept kissing me and we sucked each other's tongues. The kisses were driving me crazy. I couldn't resist anymore and I had to have Mickey's cock. . I separated from the hot kiss and moved my face down to his hard nipples that had been made erect by the cold water. I pinched each on of them and then sucked them one at a time. I moved lower and swiped my tongue across his stomach, which had a little patch of hair by his navel, and then I put my nose in his pubic hair. Finally I reach his hard cock and I sucked in the big head. Oh what a pleasure to engulf his large boy-cock. I sucked in another two inches and held his balls in my right hand. I jerked and sucked him at the same time. Mickey was just moaning and saying how good my mouth was. Mickey was so hot he twisted himself around to face my cock. He wanted to do a 69 and I was so happy he wanted to suck me, too. He was a bit tentative and licked the head of my cock first. He swished his tongue round and round on the head. It got slick and hot with his saliva. I was sucking him at the same time. We were both getting so hot--I didn't know if we could hold back from cuming. I took as much of his cock into my mouth as I could. I struggled, but his head reached the back of my throat. Mickey was sucking me deep as well--faster and faster. I grabbed and squeezed his ass. Then I put a finger in his crack and massaged his anus. Then I wiggled the finger into his ass. I was finger fucking his ass hole. Mickey started bucking his hips and fucks my mouth. He pushed his hips forward and a hot gusher of cum shot into my mouth. It was salty and a tasted a bit strange. Never tasted anything like it. I just started to swallow and enjoy this wild erotic explosion. I couldn't hold back either and started to cum. Mickey pulled his mouth away from my cock and a geyser of cum erupted towards the sky. Most of mine landed on his chest. We were quivering and trying to catch our breath. I never had experienced so much pleasure in my life. I leaned over and grabbed Mickey and pulled him in close to me and kissed him deeply. I thought to myself--I don't know if I'll ever suck another cock, but this oral experience will be hard to beat. I will never forget it. We sat up, grabbed our towels and wiped cum from our cocks and bodies. At this point Freddy and Barnie were going at it like bobcats in heat. They were in a 69 positions and each moaning with pleasure. They were completely unaware that we were watching them. I guess they saw Mickey and me and got the hang of how to do 69. Freddy's little sausage, a 4-1/2 incher, was stuffed in his buddy's mouth and Barnie's, 5 incher, was being blown with a lot of attention. The whole cock was in his mouth. Definitely a SWALLOW THE LEADER move. Mick and I each took sandwiches and juice out of backpacks and enjoyed the sex show. "Oh Freddy your mouth feels so go on my cock, Suck me, suck me deeper," groaned Barnie. "Lick my balls, Buddy. Make me cum. Mmmmm... Oh. Freddy you're such a good cock sucker " He went back to sucking Freddy's boner. They seemed to be having a hell of a time. They both shot loads and then fell back exhausted. We applauded their performance and they were very surprised and somewhat embarrassed that we had been watching. "Great blow jobs, guys," I said as I congratulated them. "That was some good sex." said Freddy as he toweled himself down. "Barnie you're good, too. I loved your wet, hot mouth. We finished our lunch and went back into the pond for another swim. We played a new game called the "Fish are Nibbling." While in the water, you'd reach out to find the tip of a pecker, and then squeeze it with your fingers. When you got nibbled, you called out, "the fish are nibbling," and then you'd go fishing for a cock to squeeze. It was fun. It kept our cocks hard for a while longer. We got dressed, packed up our stuff and got ready to ride home. Skinny-dipping at Seven Falls had been a very memorable day. We got on our bikes and pedaled our asses home. Everybody had a big smile on their face.