Date: Sat, 8 Sep 2007 07:14:45 -0500
From: J.J. <jjjanicki@gmail.com>
Subject: Understanding Sex-Part 7

The following contains sex involving two boys in their early teens.
Honest! So if reading about this is illegal either due to your current
place of residence or your age, please do not continue.


                     Understanding Sex-Part 7
               The Day I Got Kicked Off the Course


First, a brief summary might be helpful. Monday, August 17th was the day
of the deluge and Tallis deciding to take a shower out on the course. I
wouldn't say that afternoon was quite as momentous as waking up in
Colorado Springs, but it was interesting all the same. But then I was
just an observer.

TUESDAY, August 18th was the day Matthew didn't show up at the course
period. So you know what took place after that.

Which brings us to Wednesday, August 19th. A red letter day if ever there
was one. Not that it started out very promising, when I woke up I felt
like I was in the middle of a Stephen King novel. As in what had I DONE?

But fortunately, soon afterwards I came to the somewhat bemused
conclusion that I was overreacting a bit.

And so after thinking about not even GOING to the course, I finally
decided I would, but it should come as no big surprise to learn that as I
walked over, I was awash with conflicting emotions. Part of me hoped I
wouldn't see Ray Kohle. And another part of me hoped I WOULD. And if I
DID, an encore would be awfully nice, I'd even let him do it for free!
THEN I'd feel bad about thinking that.  Because, you know, he'd really
been cool about it. At which point I'd think, "Well then, maybe I'll just
RETURN the favor!" (GASP!) (BOING!) And by now you should pretty much
know which part of me went GASP and which part went BOING. But it WAS
almost the first time such a thought had ever occurred to me. Which at
least for awhile I blamed on being high. (And the "almost" will be
explained in just a little bit.)

But as it turned out, Tuesday was the last I saw of Ray Kohle. So who
knows, maybe HE was having second thoughts as well.

Anyway, I showed up at the course around quarter to ten and there was
Matthew along with Austin, Russell, Steve, John and four other turkeys
who didn't make the all-star team about to start a quarter a stroke game,
dog-eat-dog. But I was cool. Icy cool. Because after all, I reminded
myself, that damn girl would probably call the course wanting to know if
Matthew was around, then he'd go running up to the clubhouse and start
talking to her, and right after that, he'd be gone again. It had happened
the week before. He hadn't been there thirty minutes, then APRIL called,
he started talking to her and he talked and talked until finally Martin
told him he had to quit tying up the phone, and that took care of that.
No more Matthew.

Only like nothing had ever changed Matthew went, "Hey, I tried to call
you twenty minutes ago. Stephanie sounded pissed like I woke her up or
something but she said she didn't know WHERE you were. Where WERE you?"
(Stephanie belongs to Aunt Esther. She's a pain. And that's all I'm going
to say about her.)

"I was on my way here. I had to walk" I said.

"Yeah well, you're usually here when the place opens." (I usually had my
aunt drop me off on her way to work.)

Coolly I said, "Well I was thinking about doing something else but I
guessed I might's well see what was happening around here first." Then I
shrugged like I didn't care one way or the other.

But before long I was putting my troubles away. I mean I was in KILL
mode. Totally, grimly focused. And burning it. SEVEN under after nine! I
was thinking after the game I'd have a Seafood Supreme Platter over at
the Happy Heifer. I might even leave a tip.

So while we were totaling up the front nine (one of the turkeys was 4
OVER, so there was $2.75 right there) I casually asked Matthew how April
was doing.

"Shit if I know." He shrugged, then added, "I don't guess it's going to
work out between us."

"Oh" I said sympathetically.

"Hey, you want to go over to my house later on? We can go swimming."

"Yeah sure, that sounds cool. Anything good on tonight?" I assumed I'd be
spending the night because that's how it almost always worked out.

But he said, "I don't guess you can spend the night because we're leaving
early tomorrow morning for Hawaii."

"HAWAII?!? What you mean?" I blurted.

"We're going on vacation, that's all. I'll be back in a week."

"Well, in a week I'll be back in Atlanta!" I didn't WANT to sound upset,
but one moment I'm thinking, "Yes! For three days at least, it'll be back
to like it was before" then an instant later I find out he's about to go
to fucking Hawaii and he hadn't even mentioned a thing about it, (like he
probably told APRIL), and I wouldn't be seeing him again until MAYBE next
summer and it just wasn't FAIR!" I didn't SAY all that though.
Fortunately.

"Well don't have a damn cow over it, OK? We can still goof off. Nobody's
going to be home until around ten. That OK?"

So it finally dawned on me that I was acting weird, so I said, "Well,
yeah, that's OK I guess."

And then I took a three on #10. And that was my next to last hole of the
summer.

Hole 11 on course one sits at the end of a long gradual incline, except
it gets steeper two feet from the hole. It's a good ace hole, but if you
miss, your deuce putt is going to be treacherous. REALLY treacherous,
which is why some older chicken shits don't even go for the ace, they
just lag up in front of the hole for a safe deuce, and if you DO go for
it and miss, then EVERYBODY lags up for a safe three. I heard once in a
qualifying tournament some PRO took a 17 on that hole. SEVENTEEN. If
you're not putting from the tee mat or from right in front of the hole,
you've got a LONG putt at an almost impossible angle because it breaks so
much and unless you really firm the putt it'll NEVER stay on line, but if
you hit it hard enough to stay on line then it'll probably not stay in
the cup. But I had been practicing those putts and I had a shot. I banked
it. Although it WAS risky. So I hadn't tried it in a tournament. Or when
I was playing for money, for that matter.

Well, when I started by jerking it off the mat so BAD I almost nicked the
right rail, I should have KNOWN better, but everybody was laughing and
giving each other high fives and low fives and making cash register
sounds, so naturally I was pissed, so I thought, "Just wait till they see
THIS."

Damn. You should've seen it. People were laughing so hard they were
rolling on the ground. Actually rolling around on the ground. Austin,
bless his heart, was doing his dead level best not to laugh, but I know
(now) that it was impossible.

Matthew managed, "J.J., what in the fuck ... are you trying ... to DO?

Seeing as how my ball had gone airborne when it hit the rise, jumped the
rail and was right then headed for the parking lot, that was a good
question, I guess.

So. I was lying three. (One stroke penalty for going out of bounds. Place
ball one clubhead length from the rail at point of departure from the
playing surface.) Except the ball wouldn't stay THERE, so just play it
from where it rolls to. Which was behind a pipe. Kind of hard to do much
of anything from there except tap it out, (four) so you could then lag
up, (five) so you could then tap in. But then on this hole, tap-in was a
somewhat relative term. And I 360ed and ended up behind ANOTHER pipe.

Now one of the cardinal rules of dog-eat-dog is everybody HAS to stay in
for eighteen holes, no matter HOW bad it gets, unless you're totaled
before that, then you might be able to beg out. But if you have to resign
due to insufficient funds, it's going to be humiliating, you can bet on
that. Like, "Well, if you didn't have enough money to play, you should've
never got in the game, you fucker. You really suck, you know that?" That
sort of thing. It never happened to ME, I HAD the money, but like who
wants to be sent home to get it? And anyway, my nerves were just really
and truly shot to hell, so I wound up like an Olympic hammer thrower and
HURLED my putter into the parking lot on one bounce off the clubhouse
roof.

Leo Duane happened to be working behind the counter that day and he
totally HATES JPPNAs. So at the least little infraction, he'll just kick
your butt off the course.

"Janicki, you're gone! Don't come back until tomorrow!" he said over the
p.a. system. Leo's a short round thirty-something person, has at least
ten years of college and works on the loading dock at some warehouse. His
job at Putt'n'Putt was only part-time.

"I'll be right back, I got to go get my putter" I said to my fellow
JPPNAs. I didn't want it to get run over. And I really DID feel better.
So I retrieved my putter and returned to the patio in front of the
clubhouse so I could find out how much I owed. Which should have only
been $3.75, but then the people who were still owing me were bitching
because I hadn't FINISHED. Which was a valid point, I mean had I actually
finished the hole, there just ain't no telling WHAT I might've ended up
with. So fine, they didn't owe me anything then, so in that case-

"Janicki, I said leave! NOW!" Leo was still on the p.a., which was hardly
necessary since I was not more than ten feet away. I guess he wanted to
impress the folks at The Happy Heifer with his new get-tough policy.
(BEFORE the playoffs, Leo kicked a few of us off, but he knew he was
wasting his time because soon as Ray Kohle came on duty, he'd let us come
back. But now JPPNAs were dropping like flies. Already Tallis, Josh and
Michael were gone; not for a day, not for a week; but for the rest of the
summer and possibly even FOREVER.) (Even if it's doubtful anyone was
REALLY gone forever. Except for Josh. See, his PARENTS found out about
it.)

As much as was possible, I ignored Leo and continued paying up. Then all
at once I felt an oppressive presence right behind me breathing on the
top of my head, so I turned around and there he was, glaring away. So I
couldn't help it. I started laughing. Sensory overload I think. But that
only made him madder.

"I said you're gone! You are no longer welcome here!" he roared. "Did you
hear me Janicki? Two days!" (TWO days?) "I did NOT say after you pay up,
and as a matter of fact, none of you are even supposed to be gambling!"

Well, not openly, no. It says so in our official rule book. Page 23. "No
player shall openly gamble, openly exchange monies or in any other way
display conduct that could infer gambling." And in case you're still
interested, it also states that we "shall not use profanity or display
temper, rudeness or ungentlemanly acts." As a member of the JPPNA, I had
pledged myself to support and uphold those rules and regulations. And
furthermore, I had agreed that under no circumstances would I ever
degrade myself or my organization by playing at any Putt'n'Putt golf
course without first paying the appropriate greens fee and being properly
uniformed in my official JPPNA shirt and white sun visor.

So ok, I lied. (Although I did pay my greens fee.)

Still snickering a little and with a shrug, I turned to finish paying up.
That's right, I was going for kicked off for the summer. I mean it was
like a merit badge.

Then suddenly I was picked up bodily at the waist and seconds later he
almost effortlessly deposited me in the parking lot. He didn't just drop
me on my butt, but his glare was downright malevolent. And he continued
to glare, mutter in a foreign language (German, I think), and scowl at me
even after he returned to the clubhouse as I finished paying up in the
parking lot. And the parking lot is Putt'n'Putt property as well, but no
mention was made of that. And I hadn't been kicked off the course for the
rest of the summer either.

So I mooned him. Bingo, I had my merit badge.

Not long after that, Matthew and John, standing atop hole eighteen
TOTALLY mooned him, so they were gone too. Matthew said he guessed he
might as well if they couldn't play for money anymore. He also said later
my moon didn't really count because I did it so fast. Well, whatever, it
was good enough to get me kicked off.

But anyway, we went over to the Happy Heifer and I had a hamburger. (I
finished $237.05 ahead for the summer after deducting greens fees and
expenses not taken care of by Aunt Esther. That's how I ended up. Pretty
good, huh?)

(I didn't really start playing for money until late June. Which is when
my stroke average dipped under 28.) (And by the end of the summer it was
getting close to 26. Honest.)

So OK. First the thing that happened was walking over to his house he
kept trying to show me what a real moon was. And the first couple of
times I appreciated him doing that, because for the week or so I'd been
thinking I might not ever see it again. Up close and personal, I mean.
And he did have a nice one. Had a few bumps on it, but I still liked
looking at it. Unless we were out on the damn sidewalk. So after the
second time I really DIDN'T want him showing it any more, not with all
those cars coming I didn't, so I just crossed to the other side of the
street and pretended I didn't even know who he was.

Matthew said come on back, he'd stop doing it.

So I crossed back and of course he did it again.

"Damn it, cut that out" I said.

"OK, I will if you just show me one real good moon yourself."

Shit, he was almost starting to sound like the Matthew of old. Not that
it necessarily meant anything, even if I did all at once feel a tingle.
And it also didn't mean I was going to moon him, not out there I wasn't,
but since I wanted him to stop doing it to me until we got to his house,
I struck a counter-proposal.

I said, "Well, if you'll keep your pants up until we get to your house,
we'll go skinny dipping, OK?" He'd tried talking me into that a few weeks
before, but I was scared. But I guessed I might as well get as much out
of our last day as was possible. Even if I was still a little nervous
about it.

And so we did. And I thought THAT was wonderful as well, or least I did
until I jumped in. Bet you think I popped a woody, right?

Well guess what. I didn't. In fact, I think it shrunk. And I think
Matthew's did too. Because basically we were freezing our asses off out
there. Seriously. It was just barely in the sixties that day. And windy.
So I hated it, but enough was enough and it wasn't long until all I could
think about was getting my butt under a hot shower. Only Matthew kept
wanting to stay in just a little longer. But finally I could stand it no
more and I told him I was going in. He said he'd be in a little bit, he
just wanted to make a couple more dives.

"Fine with me" I thought, "That means I don't have to wait until he gets
out of the shower." which I would've if he'd left when I did because see,
I don't have a dominant personality. Actually, there are several showers
and baths in his house, but I never considered using any besides the one
in his room. And apparently neither did he. Anyway, I hadn't been in for
more than a minute or so before I heard him come in and I could hear his
teeth chattering.

So for his benefit I said, "Ahhh!! This feels GREAT!"

"I'm not standing out here freezing until you get out, so just move your
ass over" he yelled and ZAP he was in there with me.

Well, I was taken aback. No, really, I WAS. I wasn't expecting THAT at
ALL.

"Shit, we're both boys" he said almost apologetically.

Well, I KNEW that. And it wasn't like I'd never been in a shower with a
boy before; I'd been in with at least fifteen at Spring Creek, but this
was different. Matthew's shower wasn't hardly the size of a phone booth,
so we were like cheek to cheek in there. Literally. And I LIKED Matthew.
So I liked some of the guys at Spring Creek too but this was DIFFERENT.
And sure enough, I started getting stiff.

I turned my back and glanced down at myself. Well, it wasn't THAT bad,
just about straight out but barely even noticeable. It hadn't even
lengthened much, it was just sticking out, that's all. So I said, "Well,
then you gotta scrub my back, OK?"

"Fair enough" Matthew answered, "you want me to wash your hair too?"

"OK" I said.

"You got to wash mine too, OK?"

"OK" I replied. Meanwhile I felt myself becoming very noticeably aroused
indeed. Possibly by some miracle it would go back down before I had to
turn around, but it didn't seem likely.

"Man, it was COLD out there!" he said as he scrubbed the living hell out
of my head. Shit, he was about to rattle my teeth together.

"Hey!" I said sort of brokenly, "Take it easy, OK?"

"Oh sorry" he said and he eased off a few notches. "That better?"

"Yeah" I said. And it did feel good. My eyes were squinched shut, of
course. I didn't want to get shampoo in my eyes.

He didn't say anything for maybe a minute or so, he just washed my hair
real good, rinsed it out and shampooed it again. Then, while he was
trying to position my head just so in order to rinse, his penis poked me
in my ribs. And of course if it hadn't been hard, it wouldn't have done
that.

He jerked back and stammered, "Oops. ...Sorry."

Stammering no less than he, I said something like, "... That's OK... It
just... happens. Sometimes... I mean... I am... too."

He didn't immediately say anything in reply, just kept scrubbing on my
head. I was going to have the cleanest hair in Minneapolis. I mean maybe
he was just nervous and lost count, but I will be damned if he didn't
shampoo my head a THIRD time, but at long last with a barely perceptible
tremor; in fact almost casually; he asked, "So you want me to wash you
all over then?"

"Yeah... I guess so" I replied tragically. (Just kidding.) (But maybe I
should stop doing that. I mean this is starting to get serious.)

"And then you do me, OK?... And we'll keep it to ourselves, OK?"

I managed, "Yeah, I guess-" then he reached around in front and latched
onto my boner. Just for an instant. While it hardly should have been
unexpected, under the circumstances it caught me completely by surprise
and I gasped.

"Just checking" said Matthew.

"Umm" I think I replied as I blindly reached behind me. It wasn't all
that difficult to locate. And it certainly did seem to be very stiff.

But he pried my hand loose and said, "You can do that later. You BETTER.
Now just hold still, OK?" He seemed to be much calmer.

I kept my eyes shut the whole time. Well, for one thing, he didn't rinse
my hair out till last, but I liked it that way because everything seemed
to be more focused. It was sort of like being a little kid. And of course
it also was like something else entirely. When he started washing my
bottom, was he going to goose me? (No, but later on when I washed him I
was going to goose him anyway, but when I started running my finger down
into his crack, I guess he had an idea what I was about to do and he told
me I'd better not even THINK about it, so I didn't.) He never said all
that much really, just washed my back (AND my butt, and my legs; I mean
he was very thorough) then he turned me around and started washing my
face. It felt good. He washed under my arms. Which tickled. He washed my
arms. Which was only so-so. He washed my chest. Which was the first time
I ever knew my nipples could get stiff. It felt good for awhile, but then
they sort of hurt so I told him so.

"Well, they're clean" he said, then he moved down to my stomach. THEN he
started washing between my legs. I think if I could have shot off back
then I would have lost it right there and he hadn't even got to my penis
yet.

But then he DID reach it and he took it between his fingers and he soaped
it and he shampooed it and he CREAM RINSED it until it started jerking.
It had a FIT! It sure beat doing by myself. It even beat the blow job I
got the day before. Since for one thing I didn't last very long with Ray
Kohle. And while I thought Ray Kohle to be a cool dude, this was MATTHEW.
This was more than I'd ever even DREAMED of.

And then it was his turn. I mean it just kept getting better and better.
But even so, there's no need to get repetitive, so I'll just say that I
followed the same sequence, except after I got through with his backside
and turned him around he wanted me to rinse his hair out so he could
watch. And he also wondered if I'd noticed that he'd finally started
growing hair. Down there.

I said, "Well, I do now. I THOUGHT I saw something when we were in the
pool, but... well, damn! You HAVE!... I was starting to wonder if you
were ever going to get around to it."

"You were wondering? What do you think about ME? I was just about to give
up hope! ... You know, you're the first person besides me to ever see it.
That make you feel special?"

"Yeah, I guess" I replied. And if I sounded a bit noncommittal about it
all; well, that's the way I wanted it to sound; but it made me feel very
special indeed. Because that damn girl DIDN'T get to see them. And she
didn't get to feel them either. But I DID. I guess one thing about being
as blonde as Matthew is that when you first start sprouting pubes it
barely even shows up, but really, all at once he had more than I could
count. Although if I had to guess, I'd go with about thirty of them.
Little fine wispy hairs.

But ANYway, it wasn't long until all he could manage was "Oh shit!" and
"OH FUCK!!" and "Oh MAN that feels good!" and then nothing beyond "AH!
AH! OOH!! OH BOY!! AH!!!" and so on. Which REALLY made me feel special.

Of course his orgasm was different from mine. Because he COULD shoot off.
It wasn't real thick like Ray Kohle's, but when he popped I soon enough
knew what was going on. But I didn't see when he started because I was
watching his face. At first I just wrapped my fingers around his dick and
pulled, but after awhile I started getting creative. Which would be when
the really good sound effects started. So when he lost it I was just
stroking his penis lightly, like I'd start at the base and let my fingers
slide it's length and on off and then it would bounce up and whap into
his tummy. It wasn't difficult to slide it like that because that cream
rinse made it slippery. I wonder how STP would work? Well, anyway, I was
just doing that over and over and had gotten hard again just listening to
the noise and watching his face when all at once it started jerking.
Pretty violently. So the first thing that flashed through my head was,
"Why is he hitting me?" Because that's what it felt like, a little iron
pipe whamming up against my palm. Then I looked down and, SON of a BITCH!
Go baby, GO! And it sure did.

And THEN it got better. It was SORT of better when we were gently
toweling each other off after getting out of the shower. Was it the
gentle part or was it the fact that we were still basically feeling each
other off? Well, no matter, it was nice. Very close to that almost
ineffable ideal I was searching for. LATER I could wonder if I deserved
that feeling, taking into consideration what I'd done with Ray Kohle the
day before, (not to mention WHY), but right then it didn't matter. (And
whether it's because I'm good at rationalizing or not, for the most part
it STILL doesn't matter.) (But while I'm thinking of it, exactly who
DOESN'T rationalize? If a belief or whatever is important enough to your
sense of self-worth, then you will find a way to make it work.)

But meanwhile, back in the bathroom Matthew went, "Damn! I think you STAY
hard!"

"Yeah, well as long as you keep rubbing on it like that, it ain't too
likely to go back down, either."

"So you want me to stop?"

"You want the truth? ... No, not real-"

"Damn! Did you just do it AGAIN?"

"Sort of FELT that way, didn't it?" (But it was a bit more subdued than
the first one. Still felt nice though.)

Although to my way of thinking, feeling Matthew's noodle soft was almost
as interesting as feeling it hard. But then feeling it start going from
soft to hard again was even better. (So as you might surmise, one part of
our anatomy was going to be dried very thoroughly.)

And then it got even BETTER. Matthew asked, "So you want to practice
making out awhile?" See, I TOLD you it could get better. And I just LOVE
the way he put it.

"What? You mean kissing and stuff?"

"Nah. I don't think I could go THAT far, but we could just get on the bed
and grope each other for awhile. You know, practice for when we get to
girls and shit. So you want to?"

"Yeah, that sounds like a good idea." I didn't care WHAT rationalization
he used.

But how do you describe total absolute bliss anyway? I mean without
getting repetitive? Because I liked everything ABOUT it. LIGHT petting
was feeling each other's asses. Heaven was having my thigh up between his
warm soft thighs. And then of course there was the heavy petting. Not to
mention just grinding against each other. But eventually we had to cut it
out, I mean we just HAD to. I have no idea what might have been going
through Matthew's mind, either while we were at it or afterwards, but I
was getting to the point that I just couldn't TAKE anymore.

It was fun GETTING to that point though. I discovered that area between
my legs behind my balls was awfully sensitive. (And apparently Matthew
was still in the process of making new discoveries as well, including
THAT place.) His balls had dropped nicely (mine were getting there) and I
quickly discovered the actual balls inside his scrotum and how if you
were to make like you were playing marbles, you could SQUIRT them...

Matthew was more than just a little startled.

And I wasn't really that dumb either. No, I DIDN'T try to squirt them.
But one time when I was ten Stephanie DID try to squirt mine... But
that's an entirely different story. Although I will say that I was quite
startled.

So back to Matthew. I was wondering how far I could bend his boner up at
that little upward curve it made. (Further than expected.) Since he often
enough squeezed my bulb, I felt safe in following suit, but what would he
do if were to pull his pee hole open? (His breath quickened.) Open and
shut, open and shut. COOL!

"Better..cool..it" he gasped.

"I was making it wink" I said.

Then after a few deep breaths he added, "But we don't have to stop. ...
Let's cuddle awhile longer."

Which soon led to even MORE discoveries. At that time I had no idea my
anus was an erogenous zone. Really, I didn't. But when he pulled my
cheeks apart, all at once I DID know. And then when I pulled his cheeks
apart, he squirted. And we never even TOUCHED our holes.

But right. He squirted. Even if it wasn't the "big one". But I thought I
felt something wet and sticky on my abdomen, so I pulled away and there
it was. "You just squirted again" I announced.

"No, that's just precum" said Matthew informatively, "The big one hasn't
happened yet." He rolled over on his back. "You ever wonder what it
tastes like?"

I'm pretty sure my eyes widened. And I had no idea how to answer.

"It don't taste bad really. It doesn't hardly taste like anything. Well,
maybe just a little... well, I don't know, but it don't taste bad, see?"
and with that he rubbed the little dab off my abdomen with his first
finger and put it his mouth. And SWALLOWED. Then he wondered, "So you
want to try it?"

No, the little dab I wiped off his tummy didn't taste particularly bad.
It's a bit difficult to compare the taste to any items you might find in
produce, but I didn't find it at all bad.

"So you want to try one more thing? Just once? ... We'll probably never
do it again, but I just wonder what it's like, that's all. So you want
to?"

"Yeah, I guess" I answered somewhat uncertainly. It's weird. Right then I
thought I knew what was about to happen, but just as with Ray Kohle the
day before, I was thinking, "He COULDN'T mean THAT, could he?"

But he took a deep breath, hovered over my midsection, (over IT), shut
his eyes and down he went. Then came right back up. Well, he DID give it
pretty good suck, but just once. Just to see what it was like. Which just
barely scratches the surface, but it's the gesture that counts, right? In
the absence of anything FURTHER, I guess it'll have to do, and his case
it certainly was a very SIGNIFICANT gesture. And I wasn't about to leave
him out on a limb. Only I couldn't go all the way down. But I went far
enough.

Well OK, it should also be noted that I gave him TWO sucks. And as it
turned out it was the second that caused the big one to erupt.

"Sorry" he stammered, "I didn't mean to... You OK?"

I thought about it. "Yeah, I'll live. ..."And it really wasn't all THAT
bad."

Well, one does have to keep up appearances.

Matthew admitted I might have gotten the short end of the stick. Which of
course depends on just exactly how you look at it, but he added that he
MIGHT make it up to me next summer. Which now is only a few hours away.
But we were just experimenting, he said. Which I guess we were. And it's
really not that uncommon. And I know it's also not uncommon for it to be
nothing MORE than just a phase. Which is why I said the deal with Aaron
was the biggest rush I'd ever experienced, because at that moment I was
thinking it was going to continue, even if it came nowhere NEAR what
happened with Matthew. But see, I knew no matter what, after that day at
Matthew's, it was over until at least this summer and possibly it would
never happen again. And as far as that "ideal" is concerned, well, maybe
I'll never find it. But God, for just a little while we came awfully
close.



Comments are still welcome. What, do I have to beg? I love feedback. I
LIVE for feedback. Well OK, I wouldn't quite go THAT far, but often
enough it does give me a quick thrill. And quickies can be pretty nice.
jjjanicki@gmail.com