Date: Mon, 31 Oct 2022 23:53:31 +0000 (UTC) From: James Breitbart Subject: Skinnydip Creek Chapter 10 The next, and as it turned out, final meeting of the creek committee was held at Uncle Jack's law office, where Uncle Jack presented us with copies of the deeds to Skinnydip Creek and Buford Falls, the newly designated skinny-dipping spot for girls, made out to the Wray County Nudist Trust. "I assume your committee will be doing most of the actual management of the creek." The Trust's primary purpose was to satisfy legal requirements and keep up the payments for the liability insurance. My parents didn't want to be tasked with cleaning up the creek or resolving any disputes among its users. "Actually," Lucy spoke up, "I was thinking we might want to separate management of the creek from the First Frost Club. It'd be more inclusive of public school students." Everyone agreed that was a good idea, and Uncle Jack provided us with some advice on organization. "You can either set it up as a separate club, or as an auxiliary to the Trust. From a legal perspective you're better off to do it as an auxiliary, because you'll come under the Trust's liability insurance." "Do we want to set up one auxiliary or separate ones for boys and girls? Adrian asked." "Most of what we'll actually be doing will be cleaning up the creek sites," Faith pointed out, "so it would be better to have separate boys' and girls' auxiliaries, so we don't have to be on each other's sites." With that it was decided that Faith, Emma, Lucy, and Lizzie would be the inaugural members of the Girls' Auxiliary of the Wray County Nudist Trust and Jimmie, Adrian, Erik, and myself would be the first members of the Boys' Auxiliary. The Committee on Welcoming New Day Students and Protecting Skinnydip Creek voted to recommend that the Steering Committee dissolve it and transfer its welcoming new day students functions to the Committee on Recruitment and Orientation. Faith and I would draft a letter to the other members thanking them for their service, which they could use in their college applications. Our first official act was to stage a cleanup of the creek, as far as anyone knew the first in its history. Jimmie graciously lent the use of his truck, and the four of us descended on the creek with trash bags early the next morning. Other boys pitched in as they arrived at the creek, and by lunch time Jimmie had taken four truckloads of trash to the dump and back, and the creek looked as pristine as anywhere you'd see in the national parks. We, on the other hand, were dirty and sweaty, and I was thankful that we'd stripped before getting to work so I could wash myself under the waterfall before going over to meet Matty. We met in front of the counselor's office and walked over to Dolly's Ice Cream Shoppe, where I ordered two scoops of butter pecan and Matty ordered one of raspberry sorbet and one of chocolate. We sat on a bench on the square to eat them, and I rubbed my bare foot against Matty's; a gentle gesture of affection that I hoped wouldn't be noticed by any homophobes who happened to pass by. Matty was quiet at first but livened up as he decompressed. "Have you thought any more about getting your ears pierced?" "You know, in all the commotion, I'd totally forgotten about it. Do you want me to?" "Only if you want to." The rush of blood to my penis was telling me that I did, indeed, want to. "I'll talk to my parents at dinner and see what they say. No point doing it if they make me take it out." I waited to bring it up until Dad had finished telling us about his day at work. "How was your day, Sam?" "Good. I got ice cream with Matty. We talked about maybe getting my ears pierced." "Is this a new idea?" "Not really. Faith Crowder pierced Sophia's at one of the sleepovers, and I was going to ask you about it after the Fourth, but I got distracted with everything else that was going on." "I'm sure Faith's careful, but I'd prefer you to get it done by a professional. We tried to pierce one of my fraternity brother's ears in college with a thumbtack, and he ended up having to take it out when it got infected." "The hairdresser's does ear piercings," Mom offered. "Hmmm." I had gotten a haircut just before the Fourth of July to ensure that I looked neat in Uncle Cecil's campaign literature, which meant that my next scheduled appointment wouldn't be until we got back from vacation right before school started. "Or we could go to the place in the mall." It was shrewd bargaining on Mom's part, but I took it. We invited Matty, both to document the event with his camera and so that we could buy him some decent church clothes at Brooks Brothers before the interminable slog through Ann Taylor, Coach, Eddie Bauer, and J. Crew. Mom wanted to take care of back to school shopping and buy everything we needed for our vacation at the same time (We took two vacations every summer: the first week after school let out Dad, Uncle Jack and I went camping while Mom took a romantic getaway; and sometime in August Mom, Dad, and I took a trip somewhere edifying. This year we were going to the Olympics in Greece). The actual piercing was the second to last stop. While the `piercing artist' marked my ears, I discreetly slid my feet out of my sandals and rested them on the tops so that I'd be barefooted in the pictures Matty was taking. He got a nice shot of me wincing as she drove the first needle into my right ear. I was more excited about the whole thing than I expected and found myself surprisingly giggly afterwards. I selected small gold piercing studs (Mom having nixed the large fake diamond studs that were starting to become popular as overly garish) and admired myself in the mirror. Even though it was a small change, I felt it made me look more grown up and in charge of my own appearance. Our last stop was lunch at the pizza place in the food court, and we got home around 3:30. We immediately went upstairs to take some more pictures of me wearing only the earrings. Earlier that summer, I had dragged an old full-length mirror out of the attic and positioned it in my bedroom so that I could admire myself before bed and so that Matty and I could watch ourselves having sex. Matty experimented with positioning me so that my backside was reflected in the mirror while my front faced the camera. After the pictures with just the earrings, we added a cross necklace that I'd gotten as a confirmation present and an anklet I'd bought to match Matty's to the wardrobe. Things started getting frisky, and when Matty had taken all the pictures he wanted to, we lay across from each other on the bed for a session of mutual toe-sucking that evolved into me experimenting with something I'd seen in porn. I pressed Matty's penis between my soles and gave him his first foot job. It produced the desired effect and pretty soon my feet were sticky with his cum. Matty reciprocated, aided by some lotion applied to his feet as lube for my circumcised penis. Matty came over again the next day to give me the pictures, bound in a cheap photo album along with some of the other pictures he'd taken over the course of the summer. Most of them were of me, including close-ups of my feet and a really great shot of my head in profile wreathed in marijuana smoke from our second sleepover. There were also a couple of outtakes from Matty's photo session with the Fritzes. After finishing the formal portraits, he'd taken some nude shots of Adam and Austin, including one of them peeing off the back deck. I didn't think it was a sexy as Adam did, but it was definitely worth a laugh. Saturday, I had no time to play with Matty, as Mom insisted that I accompany her and Dad on a formal visit to the Atkinsons. They'd taken excommunication pretty hard, especially Robbie, who seemed to blame himself for the whole thing. "It's not your fault," I tried to reassure him, "I know as well as anyone you can't help being gay." "I could have been more careful," Robbie muttered, "I should have never let them take that picture of me." Chelsey stared off into space. "We've gone to church every Sunday that I can remember, and now it's just...gone." "Y'all are welcome to come to church with us," Dad offered. This was the primary reason for our visit. We knew they'd be miserable sitting at home on Sunday morning and thought an offer to visit our church while they considered their options would make things easier. It took some convincing, but they took up our offer. Sunday morning, Dad knocked on my door as I was dressing. When I told him to come in, he presented me with a small wooden jewelry box, which I opened to find a pair of emerald stud earrings. "Those are real emeralds," Dad explained, "from the Bolen mine. I got them when I was living in Atlanta to remind me of home, and your mother thinks they'd be more appropriate for church than those cheap piercing studs." I put the earrings in and hugged my father. "Thanks, Dad. They're beautiful." We met up with the Atkinsons in front of the church after Sunday School, and I noticed that Robbie had taken his earring out. I was a little disappointed but not particularly surprised. I was more surprised to see the Sandersons walk up toward us in their Sunday best. They were Adventists, so they should have had the day off, but it turned out that Mom had invited them to church with us too after a late night phone call from Mrs. Sanderson. "The whole sermon yesterday was about how homosexuals are doomed to eternal hellfire and can't be tolerated in the church," she explained, "I know Matthew's headed that way, so I thought we'd get out now before they kick us out." Reverend Whaley's sermon also focused on homosexuality, beginning with a reference to a controversy over ordaining gay bishops that had caused some trouble for the Episcopalian Church the previous year. He explained that the Bible passages that condemn it were actually talking about practices in ancient Greece and Rome where adults would take advantage of young boys or slaves (I had actually been reading up on ancient Greece in preparation for our vacation. The stuff about older men getting with boys my age was a little off-putting, but the nude athletic events made up for it). The actual focus of sexual ethics in the bible is preventing exploitation. According to Reverend Whaley, God wants us to share sexuality with one another as an act of mutual love. What's sinful is using someone for your own pleasure without caring for them, and Reverend Whaley pointed out that that can happen just as easily in a church-sanctioned marriage as at a gay orgy. I looked around me in the pew to see how the sermon was going over. Both Robbie and his mother had moist eyes, and Matt Sanderson looked up at his father for reassurance. Mr. Sanderson put an arm around his oldest son as though to signal acceptance, and after Reverend Whaley greeted him on the way out of Church, said. "I'll sure rest easier at night after hearing that sermon." Reverend Whaley was able to explain the theology of homosexuality in greater detail over Sunday dinner. Mom had made King Ranch chicken ahead of time which just needed to be heated in the oven before serving and invited the Kochs. Mr. Koch had been my confirmation mentor and made sure to mention that confirmation classes for both youth and adults in the fall. His oldest son Stephen, who had graduated from Chapel Hill the year before, was openly gay, and his middle son Trevor (16) wasn't officially out but was an active participant in the sexual activities at the creek. The youngest son, Brandon (12) was straight but accepting, so we figured it'd be a good family to introduce Robbie and Matt Sanderson to. After lunch, the kids were politely shooed upstairs while the adults, including Robbie and Stephen, continued discussing theology around the table. Matt Sanderson had clearly been dying to get me away from the adults. "So, are you finally going to show me what you did to Jimmie Clements' feet?" "Sure, take your shoes and socks off." He did as instructed and I began sucking his slightly sweaty feet. Bored by our performance, Mike Sanderson began leafing through the album Matty had given me. Brandon noticed and admonished him. "Hey, don't get in to Sam's private stuff." "There's lots of pictures of Sam naked in here." Mary Whaley went over to confiscate the book, which was open to one of the pictures of me with the mirror Matty had taken Thursday. "This is actually a really good picture." "Thanks," Matty blushed. "He does family portraits," I announced, taking the book from Mary and placing it on a high shelf before Mike found the pictures of illegal activities, "Y'all should see if your parents want some."